The Little Giant of Porbandar

Today is the birth anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi, a towering Indian, a world citizen and a relentless voice for humanity. On this day in 1869, our civilization welcomed an individual who went on to inspire the world with ahimsa (non-violence) and satyagraha (truth-force). When we were children, we learned about his life and his great stature as a leader of the people. But it's only when you are an adult and you've dealt with the various vicissitudes of your lives, that you realize the forces that he was up against, the difficult decisions that he had to make and the strength of his will, against all odds. I am sure that he made some grave mistakes that he regretted and there were moments of self-doubt and hesitation, but what he accomplished in the 77 years of his life is simply astounding...

Bapu (father of the nation), as he was known to those who loved and revered him as beacon of a secular India, was partly inspired by Henry Thoreau and in turn, inspired other proponents of non-violence and peaceful civil disobedience, such as, Martin Luther King Jr. and Nelson Mandela.

On the fifth year of the unilateral and illegal occupation of a sovereign nation, Iraq, by the Bush regime, these words by Gandhi ring true, once again:

"What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty and democracy?"

And here's a pic from BBC Day in Pictures from Amristsar, India...Little Gandhi's in a march!

Guru GlobalAnanda's Globalogues

"Be mindful that you are not oblivious to the most obvious."

- Guru GlobalAnanda

Agreement of the Verb with the Subject?

Now, here's a very special candidate who is protected by the enormity of her ignorance. A perfect score for free-associating with gay abandon in an interview with Katie Couric.

Ode to the Pope

You say you breathe
the fire of the Lord,
you walk the way that
He would stride
and talk the way
He should be communicating

You say you have
the keys to joy and bliss
and yet all you can offer
is the door to hate and
the path to the bigot's lair

When you stand in the front of the mirror
shorn of your sequined garb
and your silken linings,
do you see the face of your Father
or do you count those
wrinkles that bear the weight
of your spite and wanton rantings
on what is right or what is wrong
as you would see
as you would decree

When you stare at yourself
do you think of how
the son of the Lord would opine
on your riches, your marbled edifices
your golden tiaras and Prada steps
your bullet-proof Mercedes and
your mile-long retinues
your trail of sycophants
the confetti and the sheep of your cult
those showers of praise and
adulation...do they make you that
you're greater than thine Father in Heaven
and do you really need Him more
than He needs you

When those long and stately hallways
grow longer still
when the giant windows that
frame your sheep grow dimmer still
When your feet finally yield to
your lifelong burden of deception
Will your soul step up and teach you
a few common courtesies that you denied
your world...like a little humility, brotherhood,
love and tolerance of the other.


"It's your mother, Lord...did you forget her birthday?"