This is something I had saved from the Richard Bach website, which unfortunately is not around any more. I am posting this for Soul Pickle and all those of you who believe in soulmates.

Each of us discovers our own definition for "soulmate." These range anywhere from "A Meaningless Concept" to the pronouncing of our Significant Other's name.

For me, a soulmate is one with whom we've made a mutual decision before the beginning of any life experience, with whom we have an agreement to meet in spacetime and demonstrate for each other the best we know about sharing love.

In the highest sense we're all soulmates, one to another, we're all reflections of one light. But the highest sense renders the word impractical on our worlds of make-believe, and I resolved to lower the vibrations of my definition to embrace at least one and at most a very few soulmates in any focus of consciousness I call a lifetime.

Soulmates are not images of religious custom or cultural institution, of age or gender. Marriage does not define a soulmate, nor divorce dissolve one. No earthside connection affects that bond. We recognize each other when we meet by signals arranged at a time and place we half-remember from old dreams. The curve of a smile, fragments of shared memories, a phrase that two minds speak at just the same instant. And then we begin the dance we asked of each other before the music of time was written, and enter upon the lives we've customized for our education and our delight.

© 1998-1999 Richard Bach

I was so damn thrilled to get her email this morning. Of all my blog friends, I think I have the most in common with her - that is as far as roots and stuff like that go.

...and somehow she brings back memories of Bahrain, and the 'wonder years' as I like to call them. Old school magazines and class photos are all I have to remember those times. I try not to look at them too often; what's the point? - its the here and now that we've got to live in.

I'm listening to 'Time after time' by Cyndi Lauper - like the class photo, this song brings back so many memories. I remember Cliffy, Trini, and myself trying to transcribe the lyrics by listening to the cassette over and over again. And the only place we could watch the video was on this British TV programme called 'Chart Attack' on Dubai Channel-33, where the reception was terrible; but in spite of that, we never missed it. I wonder If I'll ever see those guys again.

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I type this, so I better stop here.

This is for you m. Don't go away again.

Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick, and think of you
Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new
Flashback, warm nights; almost left behind
Suitcases of memories; time after time

Sometimes you picture me; I'm walking too far ahead
You're calling to me, I can't hear what you've said
Then you say: go slow; I fall behind
The second hand unwinds

If you're lost you can look and you will find me, time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting - time after time

Time after time.

The Fox

A fox looked at his shadow at sunrise and said, "I will have a camel for lunch today." And all morning he went about looking for camels.

But at noon he saw his shadow again-and he said, "A mouse will do."

Remember the class nerds I talked about - the one's who would suddenly shock everybody by coming to school one day in baggy pants, LA Gear sneakers etc; or the Chutney Mary who'd walk into class with her hair cut short in a fancy new style?

Like I said - that must have taken guts - real guts.

Because we were mean kids - very mean. We laughed, we ridiculed, we kept names - "look at this dickhead trying to be mod!!"

But the joke was on us. The last laugh belonged to them.

You see, they decided to change; re-invent themselves; get rid of that mould; shed that outer layer of skin which held them back from doing what they wanted to do, going where they wanted to go; and worst of all - which stopped them from being what they wanted to be.

Never let anybody or anything prevent you from being that person you want to be. We owe it to ourselves to let go; to be free.

I owe it to myself. And I love surprises!

Peace, love, and the wonder of You.

You know how sometimes you read something somewhere and you go, “oh, I knew that.”

But it often happens that in spite of knowing it, we forget, for whatever reason. Or we choose not to remember.

Until someone reminds us. Like she so often does.

I wish I knew my way around the English language better, so I could say something to her.

When you’re at a party and there’s this girl you know who’s looking ever so gorgeous in that stunning new outfit; your first reaction is to tell her how lovely she looks. You know what to say, you’re programmed.

I wish I could say something to her.

...but what would she like to hear?

***

Sometimes you know nothing, yet subconsciously you feel you know everything. And at other times you’re sure you know it all, but strangely, you can't remember a thing – you go blank.

I remember in school, how after exams, there was always someone who would say something like - “I knew all the answers, but I just went blank.”

…and even then I could never understand this – how the hell do you go blank?

I never went blank. If I didn’t know something, the reason was simple - I just hadn’t studied that.

And I tell you, God would’ve had to send some of his toughest angels down from heaven to save me from the thrashing I’d get from my dad if I came home after an exam and said “I went blank”.

You cannot go blank.

***

It’s all there. In our heads somewhere. What Don Juan called “silent knowledge”.

Peace, love, and the sound of one hand clapping.

There are times when you realize that your best friend is You.

You don’t need anybody else to be complete, to find that fulfillment and contentment we crave so much.

I need to go home for a while; walk alone on the beach at sunset - watch the waves go about their business - never ceasing, never resting.

But I need a rest.

That’s why I want to go home.

***

Private Blues to see you, Sir.

What is it Blues?

Sir, the men tell me you’re an atheist. I thought I was an atheist too, but then this morning I suddenly found myself praying.

Well, you can pray all you want, son, but the only one who’s gonna get your ass outta here alive is You – you’re a fool if you think there’s anybody looking out for you. That’s why I've never believed in no God - I believe in myself!

I use to say the same thing, Sir, but today I realized I do believe in God; its just that I don’t believe he can or will do anything for me.

You’ve been here a long time, son. This place can do crazy things to a man. I hope to God we all get to go home soon.

Did you just say …’God’, Sir?

Tiring day. I still have some energy in reserve though …must be the exercise.

Playwin Super Lotto jackpot is around 10 crores today; but I didn’t bother to buy a ticket.

Sad to hear about our woman weightlifter Pratima Kumari failing a drug test at the Olympics. But is it really such a terrible thing to bring shame to a country that gives you little by way of encouragement and support? I think this incident might actually end up being a good thing in the long run because our sporting authorities will now be forced to get off their backsides.

She says I’m a cynic. I guess she’s right. So does the world need cynical farts like me?

I ain’t no macho man, Manu. We all know it’s a tough world and only the strong survive. The strong in mind, that is.

Losing it is not an option. Winning it – that’s what its all about. I’ve always wondered why Anita’s blog is so titled.

Peace, love, and a large dose of nandrolene.

You know, I just realised that all our local television news channels have stopped giving us their hourly updates on the hostage situation in Iraq. Now all attention seems to have shifted to Athens 2004. NDTV's Olympic Special on India is called 'Gunning for Gold'. I think 'Battling for Bronze' would be more appropriate.

'Pathetic' is the only word to describe India's performance till now. That air rifle shooter Bindra was in bronze medal position after the first 2 rounds but then slipped to 7th place. I guess Leander and Mahesh are now the only ones who can salvage some pride for our great nation.

But what about our three truck drivers in Iraq? I'm sure a month at least has elapsed since they were taken hostage. Even the newspapers don’t seem too interested in updating us on their fate. Those MEA guys and the government's Crisis Management Unit must be breathing a great sigh of relief.

So what does this tell us about the press then? I don’t know about you, but it tells me that they don’t give a rats ass about Antaryami and his two comrades; just like they don’t give a damn about anything or anybody else that makes the news.

It's a business for them, and their stock-in-trade is real people.

It's sad, but that’s how it is. The mandate of the mass markets, profits, and value for advertisers money has evolved a news culture that seeks to entertain rather than educate, to distract rather than instruct.

So, do you think it would be fair to call our presswalla’s a bunch of frauds?

…I guess there will be three fingers pointing back at us.

BFN.

I was watching women’s weightlifting at the Olympic Games on TV last night. That Turkish girl Taylan who won gold is really something – with a body weight of 47 kilos, she managed to lift 97.5 Kg. in the Snatch and 112.5 Kg, in the Clean and Jerk. Is that amazing or what? – more than twice her body weight!

The sweet taste of victory - how it eludes us for much of our lives. How it eludes me I should say.

Independence day today. I blame the fact that I spend most of my growing years in a foreign country for my total lack of patriotism. Days like these mean nothing to me; and I wonder how much it really means to you guys. There should be a reason to be proud of something, and I don’t seem to find any such reason to be proud of my country.

Those brave men of the freedom struggle would be appalled to see what we’ve done with the freedom they fought so hard for. It’s like giving an expensive toy to a little boy - he’s going to take it apart no matter how many times you tell him how much it costs. And when its broken, he won't be getting another one. He’ll have to make do with the pieces.

Like us. We exist here because we have nowhere else to go. This is our home – or what’s left of it.

Peace, love, and nothing left to lose.

"The Perfect World" from: The Madman by Kahlil Gibran

God of lost souls, thou who are lost amongst the Gods, hear me:

Gentle Destiny that watchest over us, mad, wandering spirits, hear me:

I dwell in the midst of a perfect race, I the most imperfect.

I, a human chaos, a nebula of confused elements, I move amongst finished worlds - peoples of complete laws and pure order, whose thoughts are assorted, whose dreams are arranged, and whose visions are enrolled and registered.

Their virtues, O God, are measured, their sins are weighed, and even the countless things that pass in the dim twilight of neither sin nor virtue are recorded and catalogued.

Here days and night are divided into seasons of conduct and governed by rules of blameless accuracy.

To eat, to drink, to sleep, to cover one's nudity, and then to be weary in due time.

To work, to play, to sing, to dance, and then to lie still when the clock strikes the hour.

To think thus, to feel thus much, and then to cease thinking and feeling when a certain star rises above yonder horizon.

To rob a neighbour with a smile, to bestow gifts with a graceful wave of the hand, to praise prudently, to blame cautiously, to destroy a sound with a word, to burn a body with a breath, and then to wash the hands when the day's work is done.

To love according to an established order, to entertain one's best self in a preconceived manner, to worship the gods becomingly, to intrigue the devils artfully - and then to forget all as though memory were dead.

To fancy with a motive, to contemplate with consideration, to be happy sweetly, to suffer nobly - and then to empty the cup so that tomorrow may fill it again.

All these things, O God, are conceived with forethought, born with determination, nursed with exactness, governed by rules, directed by reason, and then slain and buried after a prescribed method. And even their silent graves that lie within the human soul are marked and numbered.

It is a perfect world, a world of consummate excellence, a world of supreme wonders, the ripest fruit in God's garden, the master-thought of the universe.

But why should I be here, O God, I a green seed of unfulfilled passion, a mad tempest that seeketh neither east nor west, a bewildered fragment from a burnt planet?

Why am I here, O God of lost souls, thou who art lost amongst the Gods.