Lost to you, is you, the true you.
You will know if you stop, pause, and listen to your own thoughts for a second
Ever occurred, you have lost yourself, and lost sense of time and reality
You have lost yourself to
Your insatiable greed, love of goods and money, gadgets, shoes, foods, celebrity gossips, social media, false sense of achievement, entitlement,TV, screens, feeling superior and satisfaction of putting others down
Slave to love of ‘God’ – that mythical figure who will figure it all out for you,
who will wash away all your sins, give you everything you pray for,
But instead, you pay for it
with your soul, your identity, your respect and beliefs
all given away blindly.
Deep beneath, you know it is all fake, and myth.
Ever thought, why?
Life is short
And the one you need to find, is yourself in you.
Your holy grail is not outside, its inside you,
there to be discovered
Deep inside you, buried in the pile somewhere,
is the child that is you, the true you that you have always neglected
waiting for you to find
waiting for you to un-slave.

I miss the mountains, I want to travel, says the He bird.
She bird: Mountains aren’t going anywhere, just stay put.
He bird: I want to see the city of London, Lights of Paris, cobbled stones in Rome.
She bird: London, Paris and Rome aren’t going anywhere.
Yeah, thinks the he bird, I can always go later. Lets make life first.
Then life spuns the net, takes flight, there is no way getting out.
Body is starting to crumble, wings are getting creaky
Still youthful, and full or heart to spread the wings, but can’t really leave.
Life changes everything, everywhere, brings COVID.
Earth starts to recover, feel lighter with so many dead and burnt.
Paris is no Paris of his dreams anymore, beauty has given way to fear.
London is no lively, but barely living. Rome is buried.
The He bird is still dreaming of the mountains,
somewhere near, some far, some in his homeland.
Life spuns, you go where you want to go,
before you can not get unstuck.

Son to parents: Lets get out of the track..I can hear the train coming.
Mother: Where? I don’t hear anything. We are not getting off the track.
Son: Sit still and listen, put your ears to the track, you can hear it.
Father: Yeah, I can faintly hear it, but its not coming our way.
Moments later, train is in the sight.
Mother: Yeah, I can see it now, too late I am stuck to the track.
Lets see if I can dodge it
Father:Let us just just hope that it stops in time, or changes lane. It is up to God now.

A potato is dreaming..
He got home dirty,
All covered in mud after a day of play with friends.
He showers and wipes himself dry.
Looking at himself in the mirror,
all clean and shiny yellow now,
admires the view.
He walks into the bedroom, lies down in his big bed.
Then the knife falls..and chop!

From my old blog in 2008 Gone Fishing: ANZAC day (ravitandukar.blogspot.com)

On a TV program this ANZAC eve, there was
a short report containing an interview with a frail
eighty something year old. His casual but humble
and honest expressions matched his watery, sad
looking eyes. On an occasion where he was explaining
how he and thousands of his mates were tortured by
the Japanese in Thai Burma rail works during the
World war, the interviewer asked him if he felt any
repulse of the Japanese today. This was at the back
drop of the event he was referring to, the Allied
PWOs, numbering around ten thousand, mainly from
Australia, UK, US and surrounding local countries,
were made to work almost eighteen hours a day, for
nearly two years thru the thickest forests. Most died
of diseases like malaria, open ulcers, hunger,
dysentery and anything imaginable that can kill.

There are picture of these POWs lying like skeletons,
resembling jews in Hitler’s chambers in Auschwitz.

Thousands of mates of this old soldiers perished,
the brutality they were inflicted were
horrendous and unspeakable, like in China or wherever
Japan invaded. He came home at the end of the war,
lost and poor, shattered both physically and inside.
At the end, the Japanese surrendered, the prisoners
were now the masters.

He held back tears and remembered an incident that happened
in the jungle after the Japanese surrendered. He asked
a mate of his if he wanted to give the surrendering Japanese
the payback, the same torture and brutality, after all,
they had it all within their grasp now. He chocked for
couple of seconds, before recalling what his friend replied,
if a digger were to do the same, what’s the difference,
between him and them, it was stunning, untainted greatness of a man.