Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Real Love

Real Love
The Love We’ve All Been Looking For — Unconditional Love

We've heard songs about it, seen it in the movies, heard it talked about on Oprah by relationship experts, and read about it in thousands of self help books. But, what is unconditional love? We all want to feel loved. We think about it, hope for it, fantasize about it, go to great lengths to achieve it, and feel that our lives are incomplete without it. The lack of unconditional love is the cause of most of our anger and confusion. It is no exaggeration to say that our emotional need for unconditional love is just as great as our physical need for air and food.
It is especially unfortunate, then, that most of us have no idea what unconditional love really is, and we prove our ignorance with our horrifying divorce rate, the incidence of alcohol and drug addiction in our country, the violence in our schools, and our overflowing jails.
Our misconceptions of unconditional love began in early childhood, where we saw that when we did all the right things—when we were clean, quiet, obedient and otherwise “good”—people “loved” us. They smiled at us and spoke in gentle tones. But we also saw that when we were “bad,” all those signs of “love” instantly vanished. In short, we were taught by consistent experience that love was conditional, that we had to buy “love” from the people around us with our words and behavior.
So what’s wrong with conditional love? We see it everywhere we look, so what could be wrong with it? Imagine that every time you pay me fifty dollars, I tell you I love you. We could do that all day, but at the end of the day would you feel loved? No, because you’d know that I “loved” you only because you paid me. We simply can’t feel fulfilled by love we pay for. We can feel loved only when it is freely, unconditionally given to us. The instant we do anything at all to win the approval or respect of other people—with what we say, what we do, how we look—we are paying for the attention and affection we receive, and we can’t feel genuinely loved.
A New Definition of Love: Real Love
There’s only one kind of love that can fill us up, make us whole, and give us the happiness we all want: unconditional love or true love. It is unconditional love that we all seek, and somehow we intuitively realize that anything other than that kind of love isn’t really love at all—it’s an imitation of the real thing.
Unconditional love—true love—is so different from the kind of love most of us have known all our lives that it deserves both a name—Real Love—and definition of its own: Real Love is caring about the happiness of another person without any thought for what we might get for ourselves. It’s also Real Love when other people care about our happiness unconditionally. It is not Real Love when other people like us for doing what they want. Under those conditions we’re just paying for love again. We can be certain that we’re receiving Real Love only when we make foolish mistakes, when we fail to do what other people want, and even when we get in their way, but they don’t feel disappointed or irritated at us. That is Real Love (true unconditional love), and that love alone has the power to heal all wounds, bind people together, and create relationships quite beyond our present capacity to imagine.
What we Do Without Real Love: Imitation Love
If we don’t have enough Real Love in our lives, the resulting emptiness is unbearable. We then compulsively try to fill our emptiness with whatever feels good in the moment—money, anger, sex, alcohol, drugs, violence, power, and the conditional approval of others. Anything we use as a substitute for Real Love becomes a form of Imitation Love, and although Imitation Love feels good for a moment, it never lasts and never gives us the feeling of genuine happiness that Real Love provides.
Most people spend their entire lives trying to fill their emptiness with Imitation Love, but all they achieve is an ever-deepening frustration, punctuated by brief moments of superficial satisfaction. All the unhappiness in our lives is due to that lack of Real Love and to the frustration we experience as we desperately and hopelessly try to create happiness from a flawed foundation of Imitation Love. The beauty of Real Love is that it ALWAYS will eliminate our anger, confusion, and pain. So how do we find this universal cure?
Finding Real Love
Finding Real LoveAs people learn the principles of Real Love, they almost uniformly ask how they can find and feel the real thing. They want to feel the actual power of Real Love.
Fortunately, there are so many course of actions we can take to find Real Love and experience its healing power.
1. Study. Read the book Real Love. Watch the Essentials of Real Love online or on the six-DVD set. The more we study these true, lifegiving principles, the more we tend to feel the power that emanates from them.
2. Participate in the chat rooms and forums offered here on RealLove.com. There you can tell the truth about yourself and feel the acceptance from those who can see, accept and love you. At pre-specified times during the week you will have free access to trained Real Love Coaches in the chat rooms. This service can cost over $100 on other websites, while we provide it to you, FREE. We want everyone to experience the life-changing benefits of Real Love Coaching. This unique benefit will help you find the answers to the important questions in your life and relationships.
3. Participate in the weekly Live Video Chat with Greg every Tuesday night at 9 PM EST for one hour, and every Thursday night at 9 PM EST for one hour with a Certified Real Love Coach.
4. Hire a Real Love Coach. Many people have found the guidance of a professional coach indispensable as they learn and apply the principles of Real Love. You can learn more about coaching at RealLoveCoaching.net.
5. Join a Real Love Group. If one is not available, take the steps to form one. Share the Real Love book or the Essentials DVDs with friends, and as you do that, you will naturally find people who express an interest in the principles of Real Love. Gradually, you can ask these people if they have an interest in joining you in a Real Love study group.
6. Gradually accumulate a group of people that you can communicate with by phone or in person every day. Make a habit of communicating with at least one person every day who is capable of loving you unconditionally. You will find these people as you take the steps described above.
7. Attend the Real Love seminars you find listed on the website under Events and Seminars .
As you take these steps, and tell the truth about yourself to other people—especially about your mistakes, flaws, and fears—they can finally see you as you really are. They can accept you and give you unconditional love, as indicated in this simple diagram:
Truth Right pointing arrow Seen Right pointing arrow Accepted Right pointing arrow Loved
When you feel enough of the unconditional love of others, you'll have the most important treasure in life. The wounds of the past will heal—wounds caused by insufficient Real Love—and you'll feel whole and happy. As your emptiness and fear are eliminated by Real Love, you'll simply have no need to use Getting and Protecting Behaviors. Without those behaviors, you'll find relationships with others relatively effortless and will begin finding the happiness you've always wanted.
We have now seen the powerfully healing effects of Real Love in the lives of tens of thousands of individuals. Impossibly unhappy marriages now thrive, angry and rebellious children now turn to their parents for love and guidance, singles are finding partners interested in a relationship based on Real Love instead of trading in the sure disappointment of Imitation Love, and divisive and unproductive corporate cultures are become nurturing and supportive. Visit RealLove.com daily to get the relationship advice and tools that will help you replace your anger, confusion and addictions with peace, confidence, and happiness.

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Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Junaid Jamshed

Junaid Jamshed

 Junaid Jamshed is a famous Pakistani recording artist who came to the limelight as frontman of the pop group Vital Signs in 1987 with the hit song "Dil Dil Pakistan" and remained in demand through the 1990s. In 1994, he released his debut solo album Junaid of Vital Signs which also quickly became a national hit, followed by "Us Rah Par" in 1999 and "Dil Ki Baat" in 2002. Since then he has focused on religion and concentrated on singing hymns. His debut album Jalwa-e-Janan in 2005 was followed by Mehboob-e-Yazdaan in 2006, Badr-ud-Duja in 2008, and Badee-uz-zaman in 2009. All three of his albums have been available for download. All 3 Nasheed Albums]. He also runs a boutique with the name "J.", read as "Jay Dot", which has several outlets all over Pakistan.

Early life and Family

Junaid is the son of Jamshed & Nafeesa Akber Khan. His father was a Pakistan Air Force officer. Junaid Jamshed studied in boarding school before joining UET, Lahore. Though he applied for the Pakistan Air Force but could not qualify due to eye sight weakness. His siblings include: Humayun Jamshed, Omer Jamshed and sister Muneeza.[1]

Devotion to Islam

Junaid Jamshed has currently given up singing songs with musical instruments. The use of musical instruments other than the voice and the drum is an area of strong debate in Muslim jurisprudence, considered harām and this is the primary reason Junaid has given for retreating from the pop music spotlight. The Secondary reason is the concert incident with the sister of Junaid Jamshed which made him feel guilty and responsible for other women. He now limits his singing to songs that praise God, and focuses on the practice of Islam and its pious personalities - somewhat along the lines of former Cat Stevens now famously known as Yusuf Islam.
Junaid is now an active member of the Tablighi Jamaat[2] (The phrase "Tablighi Jamaat" translates to "Preachers Group"). He frequently travels the world and inspires Muslims to improve their practice of Islam.
He is also noted for opening a clothing store selling Khaadis (a fashionable form of Kurta Shalwar). This business venture has not fared too well in the economic climate surrounding 2008, and is through to be in talks for liquidation.

Vital Signs

Though the Vital Signs were launched in early 1986 in Rawalpindi by Rohail Hyatt and Shahzad Hasan (Shahi), it was a while later when Junaid, then a young engineering student from Lahore, joined them as their lead singer. Though their hit debut single "Dil Dil Pakistan" skyrocketed them into fame, the song's success was not seen by him as something that would turn him into a professional musician. Junaid who wanted to become a professional engineer, initially didn't want to have anything to do with music other than just treating it as a hobby. However, Rohail and Shahzad soon managed to convince him otherwise.[3]. In 2003, BBC World Service conducted an international poll to choose ten most famous songs of all time. Around 7000 songs were selected from all over the world. According to BBC, people from 155 countries/islands voted Dil Dil Pakistan was third in top 10 songs.[4]

Haamd-o-Naat Albums

Discography

Music videos

Play Acts

Vital Signs

  • Us Rah Par
  • Woh Kon Thi
  • Hum Rahay Raahi
  • Chhupa Lena
  • Dil Maangay
  • Sanwali Saloni
  • Hum Tum
  • Yaad Karna
  • Aankhhon Ko Aankhhon Ne
  • Hum Hain Pakistani
  • Mere Dil Tu Hai
  • Na Tu Aaegi
  • Tu Hai Kahan
  • Tum Door Thay
  • Tumhara Aur Mera Naam
  • Qasam Us Waqt Ki
  • Chehra
  • Ye Shaam
  • Aaj Phir Chalein Dosto
  • Ab Jiya Na Jaaye
  • Aik Sapna Kho Gaya Tha
  • Aitebar Bhi Aa Hee Jaayega
  • Baatein Purani Baatein
  • Do Pal Ka Yeh Jeevan Hai
  • Gore Rang Ka Zamana
  • Guzre Zamane Wali
  • Jal Na Jaana
  • Mera Dil Nahin Available
  • Oh Meri Raaton Ke Pehle Sapne*
  • Tere Liye Hai Mera Dil

Solo

  • Dil Ki Baat
  • Us Rah Par (directed by Shoaib Mansoor)
  • Qasam Us Waqt Ki original name Junaid of Vital Signs

 

Hit Singles

www.junaid-jamshed.co.uk

External links

 
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Sunday, August 23, 2009

The Thief of Bagdad (1924)

The Thief of Bagdad (1924) **½
     Swashbuckling has been rather out of fashion for a couple of decades, so I can’t think of any really recent examples, but for a great many years, the world of Arabian legendry was one of the most popular settings for Hollywood adventure movies. The ones my readers are most likely to remember are probably the Ray Harryhausen Sinbad films from Columbia, but the phenomenon stretches back much further than 1958. Indeed, the earliest of the bunch appears to have been the 1924 version of The Thief of Bagdad, written and produced by Douglas Fairbanks for United Artists.
     Those who know Fairbanks only as the action hero par excellence of the silent age may be surprised to see his name in two of the key behind-the-camera credits, but Fairbanks was always much more than a pretty face and an admirable physique. Indeed, together with Charlie Chaplin, D. W. Griffith, and Mary Pickford, he was one of the founders of the United Artists studio, and so it is actively to be expected that he would play a major creative role in the company’s productions. By 1924, he had already played Zorro, Robin Hood, and one of the Three Musketeers, and he wanted his next project to be something extra-special. Reputedly inspired by a segment from Paul Leni’s dark fantasy, Waxworks, Fairbanks concocted a sprawling epic derived from the 1001 Nights, involving everything from flying carpets to fire-breathing dragons to magic spells that can create tens of thousands of pikemen out of thin air. And despite UA’s position as one of the weakest of the major studios, Fairbanks did not intend to make his movie on the cheap. The total reported cost— $2,000,000— was probably the greatest in history at the time, and it has been said that The Thief of Bagdad was the first film ever made with a seven-figure price tag. All that money bought a new kind of adventure film, and for once Fairbanks’s stunts and swordsmanship would take a backseat to spectacle of an altogether more fantastic strain.
     Fairbanks, inevitably, plays the thief of the title. His name is probably Ahmed, although that may be merely an alias he adopts when he attempts to pass himself off as a prince— we’ll get to that a bit later. Right now, we’re going to spend a reel or two watching Ahmed roam around Baghdad, lining his pockets with other people’s wealth by means of a seemingly endless repertoire of tricks and stratagems. He picks pockets; he panhandles; he cat-burgles. At one point, he even sneaks his way onto the underside of a rich man’s litter, and steals a golden ring right off of the sleeping occupant’s finger. Nor does Ahmed limit himself to coins and jewelry. If he can carry it on his person, he’ll swipe it— it’s all the same to Ahmed. For instance, no sooner has he taken advantage of the muezzin’s call to noontime prayer to relieve a fakir of his magic rope than he uses the instrument’s incredible power in a ludicrously penny-ante gambit to pilfer a handful of couscous from a cook-pot on some stranger’s second-floor balcony. Indeed, one gets the impression that Ahmed steals less out of greed (although he’s certainly got plenty of that) than for the thrill of the taking itself. Whatever his true motives, Ahmed has no use for the strictures of religion or morality as put forward by the mullah (Charles Belcher) of a mosque in which he finds himself while dodging some of his more irate victims, and he can be counted upon to take instead the advice of the somewhat older and even sleazier thief (Snitz Edwards, from The Mysterious Island and The Phantom of the Opera) with whom he shares his secret lair in a tunnel leading off from the main shaft of one of the city’s wells. (Incidentally, Ahmed’s behavior at the mosque is easily the most glaring “don’t try this at home” moment in the entire film. Apostasy was a capital offense in Abbasid Iraq, and telling a mullah to his face that “Allah’s just a myth” would have gotten you decapitated so fast you’d need a helper standing by with a bicycle pump in order to finish the sentence.) Then one day, Ahmed unexpectedly acquires some real ambition. It dawns on him that his snazzy new magic rope has opened up a whole world of thieving possibilities, and in the middle of the night, he attempts to rob the palace of the caliph (Brandon Hurst, of White Zombie and Murders in the Rue Morgue). He gets distracted from his treasure seeking, however, when he hears the sound of three slave-girls singing the caliph’s daughter (Julanne Johnston) to sleep. Ahmed sneaks into the harem, and the moment he lays eyes on the princess, he knows he simply must have her. Now if you’re asking me, this renders Ahmed’s taste in women highly suspect, for the one Mongol slave-girl (Daughter of the Dragon’s Anna May Wong) is incalculably sexier than her mistress, and might realistically be attainable, but that’s never how it works in these things. After a bit of goading from his roommate, Ahmed resolves to abduct the princess as soon as possible.
     He isn’t the only one with designs on her, either. Far to the east in Ho Sho, Chang Sham the Great, Prince of the Mongols (Kamiyama Sojin, from The Bat and The Unholy Night), is plotting the conquest of Baghdad, and when his most trusted advisor (Kunihiko Nambu) mentions that the caliph has announced the opening of his palace to suitors for the princess, Chang Sham decides that the engagement competition will offer him the perfect chance. On the princess’s birthday, Chang Sham is there in Baghdad, vying with princes from India (Noble Johnson, of She and The Most Dangerous Game) and Persia (Mathilde Comont— and you know, it occurred to me while I was watching that the prince of Persia had awfully big tits, even for a gigantic fat guy) for a position as the Caliph’s heir. Ahmed too hopes to exploit the call for royal suitors. With a little assistance from the other thief, he cobbles together an assumed identity as Prince Ahmed of the Seas and the Islands, a deliberately vague title that should keep unanswerable questions safely unasked, while simultaneously going some way toward explaining why a prince of the Orient would be traveling about with one lousy retainer— when you live on an island, riding in at the head of a caravan of elephants is pretty much out of the question. At first, Ahmed has it all his way. The princess has nothing good to say about any of her other suitors, and she falls in love with him at first sight. There are two problems, though. First, Ahmed gets all mushy on us once he’s had a chance to spend a few minutes in his target’s company, and decides that he can’t go through with the abduction after all. Second, and more seriously, Chang Sham recognizes that there is something fishy about this “Prince of the Seas and the Islands,” and that gorgeous Mongol slave-girl possesses enough national sentiment to want to help make sure the khan gets what he came for. Before Ahmed knows what hit him, his secret comes out, and only the clandestine intervention of the princess saves him from being thrown to the caliph’s pet ape.
     It would seem, however, that the princess is as wily in her way as Ahmed himself, for rather than submit to marrying one of her loathsome legitimate suitors, she stalls for time in a way that might just put Ahmed back in the running. The princess has her father announce that each of the three suitors will have seven months to seek out treasures of stupendous rarity; whichever brings back the most glorious prize will have her hand in marriage. Word of this development gets back to Ahmed, and with a little advice from that mullah he treated so rudely earlier on, the soon-to-be-former thief concocts one last, epic burglary with which to elevate himself to nobility. In order to achieve his goal, he’ll have to parley with a hermit, brave the Mountains of Fire, battle his way through the Valley of Monsters, seek assistance from a talking tree and the Old Man of the Sea, resist the blandishments of a tribe of seductive mermaids, and tame a flying horse, but the mullah assures Ahmed that the treasure to be gained from this arduous adventure is truly beyond compare. It had better be, too, because the competition is stiff indeed— just imagine the strutting and posturing back at the caliph’s place:
Prince of Persia:
  “Check it out— I’ve brought you a magical carpet that flies!”
Prince of India:
  “That’s nothing— with this crystal globe from Kandahar, you can see anything going on anywhere!”
Chang Sham:
  “Yeah? Well I’ve brought you a golden apple that counteracts poison, cures disease, and raises the fucking dead. Beat that, suckers!
     Furthermore, it might not matter how impressive anybody’s presents for the princess are, because Chang Sham’s advisor has been very busy in Baghdad during his master’s absence, smuggling in soldiers disguised as traders and couriers. The khan has 20,000 troops within the city right now, and the caliph’s forces aren’t prepared to hold the palace against an enemy on the inside of the city walls. Of course, we haven’t had a chance to see what Ahmed’s treasure can do yet.
     Whatever else you may say about it, The Thief of Bagdad is an often gorgeous film that realizes a fair percentage of its extravagant visual ambitions. No fantasy film on this scale had been attempted in the United States before, and even worldwide, credible competitors (such as the German Siegfried or some of Italy’s more grandiose historical epics) were both few and relatively little-seen in this country. Modern audiences might laugh at the fire-breathing dragon (another early example of the ubiquitous Custom Gator), the giant bat, or the monster sand flea (both of them full-scale puppets), but they must have been pretty incredible in 1924. The flying carpet sequences in the third act, meanwhile, still look good, and the animation effects used to represent the power of one of the magical items Ahmed picks up on his quest are charming, if also a bit hokey. The extreme stylization of the set design doesn’t always work (the caliph’s palace looks cheap and phony), but in the more fantastic locales (the Mountains of Fire, the sirens’ underwater palace, etc.) the effect is evocatively dreamlike. There is an unfortunate side to The Thief of Bagdad’s emphasis on images of the strange and wondrous, however; the film has a pronounced tendency to wander, and never manages to accumulate much momentum. This isn’t so bad when we’re following Ahmed around on his increasingly complicated quest, but it becomes a real problem when he’s just wandering the streets of Baghdad, stealing shit at random from every Fuad, Malik, and Selim.
     Perhaps surprisingly, I think it’s the performance of Fairbanks himself that hurts the movie most during its less adventuresome segments. He looks great in a sword-fight and it’s practically impossible to believe that he was already 41 years old in 1924, but his acting style, with its heavy emphasis on static poses and declamatory gestures, was old-fashioned even back then— notice that nobody else in The Thief of BagdadThe Unholy Night, for example), his prospects in an all-talking Hollywood were probably pretty bleak. Nevertheless, he’d have been the ultimate Fu Manchu, and his turn here as Chang Sham gives some indication of how much his presence could have improved the Yellow Peril movies of the following decade. Considering the imbalance in charisma between hero and villain in most subsequent “Arabian” fantasy films, maybe it’s only fitting that Fairbanks should have to struggle as hard against Sojin for audience attention as Ahmed does against Chang Sham for the hand of the princess. is doing that sort of thing to nearly the same extent. Odds are you’ll rapidly find yourself thinking, “Yes, Doug— we see it’s a treasure chest. You don’t have to do a double-take. Just swipe the key off that eunuch’s belt and open the fucking thing already.” Fortunately, the excesses of Fairbanks are counterbalanced to some extent by the supporting players, particularly Kamiyama Sojin and Anna May Wong. It isn’t for nothing that Wong would rise to become Hollywood’s only Asian leading lady during the early 1930’s. Beyond being stupefyingly beautiful, she has a way of making odd body language look graceful and perfectly natural, and she conveys the impression that nobody could ever put anything over on her. As for Sojin, it’s a shame he moved back home to Japan in 1931, although given the extremely heavy accent he revealed in the few talkies he made in the States (
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Tuesday, August 18, 2009

love stories



& Other Love Stories
by Judith Bronte

Chapter One
No Longer a Child

"For a small moment have I forsaken thee;
but with great mercies will I gather thee."
~ Isaiah 54:7 ~

A hot Japanese sun shone through the white curtains of Izumi Mizukiyo's bedroom. She turned over in bed, ignoring the sun's call to wake up. Not to be ignored, it shone into a mirror standing on the right side of Izumi's futon, reflecting a bright glare onto her sleepy eyes.

"Okay, I'm awake," she said groggily, sitting up. Satisfied with her acknowledgement of the new day, the sun dispersed it's reflection, leaving Izumi to rub her stunned eyes. Though she wanted to move the mirror, the glare served as a useful alarm clock. Sitting up in bed, she began brushing her black hair in the small mirror, talking to the reflection as to a familiar friend. "Did you enjoy my graduation?" Not waiting for a reply, she continued, "I'm so glad you could come! My parents meant to be there, but something came up. I'm sure they would have come, if they could." Her face fell a little, but brightened upon the next thought, "Mrs. Tanaka, our teacher, called us 'young women' at the ceremony yesterday. She never called us that before," Izumi added quickly, as if Mrs. Tanaka's address to her students was proof enough of her womanhood. Izumi picked up her diploma, and read it again, savoring every word.

The Tanaka Young Ladies School hereby certifies that Izumi Mizukiyo has fulfilled the requirements needed to graduate. Izumi has honored her teacher, Mrs. Natsumi Tanaka, by finishing first in her class.

She ran her finger along it's edges lovingly, for this small piece of paper represented long hours of tedious work. A satisfied smile parted her lips. "They will be proud of me now."

Izumi
Izumi Mizukiyo is pronounced
'E - zoo - me Me - zoo - ke - o'.

Izumi's bedroom was not actually a room at all. Wooden partitions fenced off a small square of space from a larger room, making up three of her walls. The bedroom was just big enough to comfortably accommodate a futon and a small mirror given to her by Mrs. Tanaka. The partitions stood up against the wall, encircling the only window in the small apartment. Izumi loved to set her room up around this window, for at night, she would stare dreamily out and imagine herself strolling through a Japanese garden, inhaling the fragrant honey of the nearby flowers. She would keep this picture in her heart as she slept, and would dream of it as a baby craving for it's mother. A peaceful smile would often creep across Izumi's face, making her look beautiful and serene. What a pity that her parents never noticed this nightly transformation!

Izumi carefully folded up her partitions, taking care to do it quietly. Her parents slept in a partitioned room against the opposite wall.

Quietly, she put away the futon and placed her mirror on the window's ledge. Izumi tiptoed to the kitchen, and knelt next to a small stove with one burner. It stood solemnly beside a tiny refrigerator that sat on the tatami floor. Unstacking some containers in the corner, she pulled out a bag of rice. Izumi measured portions of the white grain into a pan, carefully rinsing it in the kitchen sink. She quietly set the pan on the burner, and turned on the fire. She then went to the closet, and slid open the thin wooden door. Behind the clothes, Izumi pulled out a small table, about a foot tall. Placing it in the middle of the room, she arranged the bowls and tea things on it.

Chapter Two
A Rebellious Daughter

Mrs. Anna Mizukiyo sat down and began eating the rice Izumi had so lovingly prepared. She took no thought to thank Izumi, or God, for her meal. Anna had noticed the omission, however, for the voice of her childhood in America came rushing back, as if it had been yesterday.

"God bless this food ... (in a whisper) did I say it right, Daddy?"

How happy were those memories! Then her mind sped to the day she announced to her parents that she was getting married.

"Guess what? I'm getting married!" Her parents' faces turned grave though, when she told them who she was going to marry.

"Anna, he's not a professing Christian. We forbade you from ever seeing him again. And not because he's Japanese, (her father added, seeing the words on Anna's tongue), but because he openly defies God by his speech and actions. He 'is loud and stubborn;' his 'feet abide not in [his] house.'" (Proverbs 7:11)

"But Daddy, I love him! and he loves me, I know he does! He wouldn't have asked me to marry him if he didn't!" Anna's father sat down on the sofa beside her and looked into the blue eyes of his only child.

"Anna, what did Christ say true love was?" He picked up his Bible and turned it to John 14:15 and 24. "If ye love Me, keep My Commandments... He that loveth Me not keepeth not My sayings: and the word which ye hear is not Mine, but the Father's which sent Me."

"Daddy, where does it say in the Bible that I can't marry someone who isn't a Christian? Where?" Anna's "where" had an unmistakable ring of defiance in it. Her father patiently read Second Corinthians 6:14.

"Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness?"

There was a pause of silence before he spoke again. "Anna, you know this verse by heart. I'm not reading it to you for the first time. To marry a non-believer would be sin. For 'To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.' (James 4:17) You know better." Anna shook her head.

"I don't see how it's sin to marry someone I love!" As she said this, Anna left her parents' home, and turned her back on everyone who truly loved her. The next day she got married and left America, to live with her husband in Japan. Anna tried to suppress these painful memories, but they came crashing through her consciousness as a giant wave pounds the sand.

Anna thought of the day Izumi was born. She was so proud of her baby! Anna could still see the abundance of beautiful, black hair crowning Izumi's tiny head . And those wide blue eyes! Nurses from every department of the hospital would come, and gaze at the beautiful Japanese baby with blue eyes. Every feature of Izumi's face was Japanese, except those clear pools of blue staring up at her mother. How special Anna thought her new baby was!

Then Anna remembered her husband's reaction to his new baby daughter.

Chapter Three
The Dishonored Son

"Bloody and deceitful men shall not live out half their days."
~ Psalm 55:23 ~

When Anna woke up that morning, she noticed that Yoichi hadn't come home. This was a common habit with him, and she learned early on not to question his whereabouts. So Anna ate her breakfast, without giving her absent husband one thought. If she had known why he was absent this morning though, she might not have had any appetite for the rice Izumi made.

Yoichi Mizukiyo, (the "ichi" at the end of his name means "firstborn son"), would usually spend his nights and mornings in a smoke filled room in Yokohama, gambling his inheritance away. Sometimes Yoichi won, but mostly he lost. In fact, he had lost more money than he realized, playing the addicting games of Mahjong, and Pachinko. (Popular games of chance in Japan.) For several years, Yoichi led a life of gambling excesses, causing him to sink deep in debt. His creditors had allowed Yoichi to borrow money hand over fist, knowing his father was wealthy. Someday the old man would die, and leave his great fortune to his eldest son. This is what they were counting on, and so was Yoichi.

Today would be different, however. After spending three hours in front of a Pachinko machine's hypnotizing lights, Yoichi felt someone tugging at his shoulder.

"What do you want?" he asked impatiently.

"Your father is dying. Come quickly." Yoichi obeyed immediately.

Toshikazu Mizukiyo had led a long life. Now he wanted to die peacefully, confident in the knowledge that the honorable family name would continue for several more generations. He had disapproved of his son's choice of wife, for he had hoped that Yoichi would choose a woman of his own country. The blonde, blue - eyed Anna, (with a Dutch heritage), was not what he had hoped for. But Mr. Mizukiyo knew how hard his son was trying to be worldly, and thought it was somewhat humorous. Yoichi had a lot to learn before he would be as wise as his ancestors. Years would add wisdom to his son.

However, several hours ago, Mr. Mizukiyo received word of his eldest son's gambling fever and large debts. Many of Yoichi's excesses were told him in great detail. The longer he listened, the angrier he became. This was no longer a laughing matter. His eldest and most honored son had disgraced the ancient family name, exposing it to ridicule. He must save face, (save honor), and do it quickly, for Mr. Mizukiyo knew that soon, he would die.

Yoichi bowed and knelt beside his dying father.

"Weariness fills my heart, for your disgrace has come to the doors of my house. The inheritance that you have so long taken for granted is given to Shunji ("ji" meaning "second son"). From this hour on, I have no firstborn son." A stunned Yoichi stared disbelievingly at his father.

"Father, if I do not pay the creditors their money, they will kill me ... or worse!" Yoichi was visibly shaken. Beads of sweat ran down in rivulets on his face. The "or worse", was in Yoichi's mind, more terrifying than death.

"I have no firstborn son," his father repeated. Mr. Mizukiyo would not even look at his dishonored offspring. Yoichi opened his mouth to protest, but the words would not come. He knew his father would never reverse the death sentence he had just given. This was how Mr. Mizukiyo was going to punish his son. Silently, Yoichi left his father's house for the last time.

"The curse of the LORD is in the house of the wicked."
~ Proverbs 3:33 ~

"Oh let the wickedness of the wicked come to an end."
~ Psalm 7:9 ~

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Monday, August 17, 2009

Mowgli Stories


Mowgli Stories

In the Rukh describes how Gisborne, an English forest ranger in India at the time of the British Raj, discovers a young man named Mowgli, who has extraordinary skill at hunting and tracking, and asks him to join the forestry service. Later Gisborne learns the reason for Mowgli's almost superhuman talents: he was raised by wild animals in the jungle.

Kipling then proceeded write the stories of Mowgli's childhood in detail. Lost by his parents in the Indian jungle, a human baby is adopted by the wolves Mother (Raksha) and Father Wolf, who call him "Mowgli the Frog" because of his furlessness. Shere Khan the tiger demands that they give him the baby but the wolves refuse. Mowgli grows up with and runs with the pack, hunting with his brother wolves. Bagheera (the panther) befriends Mowgli, partly because Mowgli, being a "Man", has the power of dominion over beasts: Bagheera cannot withstand Mowgli's gaze. Baloo the bear, teacher of wolves, has the thankless task of educating Mowgli in The Law of the Jungle.

Mowgli has many adventures among the talking animals in his jungle paradise, assuming ever-increasing mastery as he approaches manhood. Shere Khan regards Mowgli as fair game, but eventually Mowgli finds the one weapon he can use against the tiger - fire. After driving off Shere Khan, Mowgli returns to the human village where he is adopted by Messua and her husband who believe he is their own long-lost son Nathoo. (In fact we never find out if this is true.)

While herding buffalo for the village Mowgli learns that the tiger is still planning to kill him, so with the aid of two wolves he traps Shere Khan in a ravine, where the buffalo trample him. Seeing this, the vilagers persecute Mowgli and his adopted parents as witches. Mowgli runs back to the jungle but soon learns that the villagers are planning to kill Messua and her husband, so he rescues them and sends elephants and buffalo to trample the village to the ground. In later stories he finds and then discards an ancient treasure, not realising that men will kill to own it; and with the aid of Kaa the python he leads the wolves in a war against the dhole (red dogs).

Finally, Mowgli stumbles across the village where his human mother is now living, which forces him to come to terms with his humanity and decide whether to rejoin his fellow humans.

Kipling also adapted the Mowgli stories for The Jungle Play in 1899, but the play was never produced on stage and the manuscript was lost for almost a century. It was finally published in book form in 2000.

UK paperback edition: ISBN 014118292X

Possibly useful to have a separate page discussing the play script and its similarities and differences to the original stories

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Wednesday, August 5, 2009

the jungle book



The Jungle Book (1894) is a collection of stories written by Rudyard Kipling. The stories were first published in magazines in 1893–4. The original publications contained illustrations, some by Rudyard's father, John Lockwood Kipling. Kipling was born in India and spent the first six years of his childhood there. After about ten years in England, he went back to India and worked there for about six-and-half years. These stories were written when Kipling lived in Vermont.[1]
The tales in the book (and also those in The Second Jungle Book which followed in 1895, and which includes five further stories about Mowgli) are fables, using animals in an anthropomorphic manner to give moral lessons. The verses of The Law of the Jungle, for example, lay down rules for the safety of individuals, families and communities. Kipling put in them nearly everything he knew or "heard or dreamed about the Indian jungle."[2] Other readers have interpreted the work as allegories of the politics and society of the time.[3] The best-known of them are the three stories revolving around the adventures of an abandoned 'man cub' Mowgli who is raised by wolves in the Indian jungle. The most famous of the other stories are probably "Rikki-Tikki-Tavi", the story of a heroic mongoose, and "Toomai of the Elephants", the tale of a young elephant-handler. Kotick, The White Seal seeking for his people a haven where they would be safe from hunters, has been considered a metaphor for Zionism, then in its beginning[4] As with much of Kipling's work, each of the stories is preceded by a piece of verse, and succeeded by another. The title of each is given in italics in the list of stories below.
The Jungle Book, because of its moral tone, came to be used as a motivational book by the Cub Scouts, a junior element of the Scouting movement. This use of the book's universe was approved by Kipling after a direct petition of Robert Baden-Powell, founder of the Scouting movement, who had originally asked for the author's permission for the use of the Memory Game from Kim in his scheme to develop the morale and fitness of working-class youths in cities. Akela, the head wolf in The Jungle Book, has become a senior figure in the movement, the name being traditionally adopted by the leader of each Cub Scout pack.
These stories do not represent wolf breeding biology correctly: in a real pack, only the alpha male (here Akela) and the alpha female would be able to breed.
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