Headline, March20, 2014



THE SAMURAI  - AND  many, many global students often write and communicate, so many beautiful things. Every time it becomes impossible not to acknowledge and not be overwhelmingly touched.

My problem is that having a heart of a poet, I always suffer from an acute case of   "'Seasonal Affective Disorder"'.  Worse still, I am affected by all four seasons.

As a younger man, I would, when asked, always proffer forward autumn as my favourite season. And I am not sure, you can  "proffer forward".

I suspect you can only  "proffer" , but it sounds nice and it's too late now to think about going back and deleting. "Which is your favourite season?" they would ask and I would reply with no discernible hesitation :


To me, it was the choice of a mature mind, the choice of a poet, choice of an artist; dare I say a very sensitive one.

You can imagine my discomfort then, when it was pointed out to me by an elderly relative that my choice of season actually spoke volumes about my immaturity.

I was a young man and autumn, she said, was the choice of the young man, impervious as he is to its accompanying message of death, intoxicated by its bright fresh air.

For the older man,  autumn  -beautiful, russet hues aside   -is a sly reminder that death is checking it's got its key in its pocket before leaving the house and setting off in your  direction.

It's air is not fresh, there's s definite chill and its colours are far from russet, they are several shades of crap. This is why the Americans call it  "fall".

My elderly aunt was of course correct and now at the age of 65, which is, quite frankly, the oldest I've ever been, I find myself ticking  the  box  marked "spring" :

With its smorgasbord of growth trumpeting its youth and vitality with every new bud.

In spring, the only way is up. Spring is  "first hit single"  of the seasons, its momentum carrying summer high up into the charts until dropping off exhausted into,  you guessed it,   autumn.

At the risk of coming over all poetic, I have of late, but wherefore I know not, been noticing the seasons and nature in general much more than usual. I think it's just another  by-product of my slow-but-sure evolution into being:

"Quite different to how I used to be".

A dear old friend, who had a wonderful holiday last summer, in the Armagnac region of France, talked of : glorious countryside with vineyards a plenty and more  sunflowers  than he thought existed.

But I know that when it comes to flowers, the sunflower is a bit obvious  -it is, let's face it, the simpleton's choice. But,  he added, you should have seen them! Field after field after field after field.

And yet, and yet,........Here too, the double-edged Mach-4 Turbo razor sword of nature is lurking.

There's nothing on Earth like, like  a uniform row of tall, healthy sunflowers on a hot summer's day, heads turned skywards towards the sun with scant regard for their eyesight:

To reaffirm one's faith in   ^human endeavour^    like  !WOW!  and the vitality of our species like,  all the World Students,   and like >  Rabo, Dee, Ali, Hussain, Haider, Mariam, Malala, Talat,  Zeba, Vishnu, Ehsan, Shahzaib, Ahsen, Salar, Hamza, Mustafa, Armeen, Hazeem, Zaeem,  Hannyia, Meriam, Sannan, Danyial, and Rahym  

But there's also, a mile or so down the road, nothing like a row of withered, shrivelled sunflowers, eyes fixed in failure to the floor: Like,..........?!

To remind us all of the  "'futility of existence"'  and the slow road to inevitable death on which we all hitch.........?...........!

Some of us with the misfortune to be picked up by the passing camper van of disease sooner than the others. Like  "'Student Shahzaib Bajwa"', in the US. His wings clipped by fate's shears: And with what logic?!

Or like the Malaysian Flight??

Lovely, lovely, they all say to me: The wise, the foolish, the young, and the mysterious and even the idiots.

This be only and only:

"The Lottery of Life."  "' !!!  As it should be  !!! "'.

With respectful dedication to all the Students of the World. See Ya on !WOW!  the World Students Society Computers-Internet-Wireless:

"'The Honour Index"'

Good Night & God Bless!

SAM Daily Times - the Voice of the Voiceless


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