All that is gold does not glitter…
read moreAll that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
The second half of the chessboard
According to the legend, King Shihram was a tyrant who oppressed his subjects. One of his subjects, a wise man named Sissa ibn Dahir, invented the game of chess for the king to play, to show him that a king needed all his subjects and should take good care of them. King Shihram was so pleased that he ordered that the game of chess should be preserved in the temples, and said that it was the best thing he knew of to train generals in the art of war, a glory to religion and the world, and the foundation of all justice.
Then King Shihram asked Sissa ben Dahir what reward he wanted. Sissa answered that he didn’t want any reward, but the king insisted.
read moreMan often becomes what he believes himself to be.
read moreMan often becomes what he believes himself to be. If I keep on saying to myself that I cannot do a certain thing, it is possible that I may end by really becoming incapable of doing it. On the contrary, if I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning. — Mahatma Gandhi
So, jus what is a jiv?
To one, jiv(a) was a nickname given from a teacher to his student. To many, jiv(a) describes:
read moreThere are dreamers and there are realists in this world.
There are dreamers and there are realists in this world. You’d think the dreamers would find the dreamers and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not the opposite is true.
‘Carpe Diem’
Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi
Finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios
Temptaris numeros. Ut melius quidquid erit pati,
Seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,
Quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum: sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi
Spem longam reseces. Dum loquimur, fugerit invida
Aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.
by Quintus Horatius Flaccus
Translation:
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The perfect heart
by Priya Sher
A young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it
But an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said,
“Your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.”
