The day the music died (literally)

It was the year 2000 when I was introduced to the wonder that is Vinicio Capossela. A master like few the world has seen.

He is humble, his musicality original, raw, full of fire, his lyrics poems of the highest order. Above all, he reaches out and touches the human condition in a way that speaks volumes to me, walking that fine line between nostalgia and melancholy, verve and rhythm, yearning and desire, passion and soul. As I read somewhere, he is a visionary dreamer. And through him, we too dream. Continue reading

We are human, first and foremost

Today, on the occasion of the World Humanitarian Summit, I came across yet another terrifying story of loss and despair. It is the story of Mahmoud and Reem, two refugees who fled Syria for Greece with their four children and who lost one of their children, their six-year-old daughter Rand, when she was struck by a train in the dead of night as they were walking along the tracks, a journey that had already lasted two days, without food and water. And yet, in this darkness, a light shone through, bright and clear – Akis and Sia Armpatzianis, two strangers to Mahmoud and Reem, who lived in a village close to the scene of the tragedy, helped them organize and paid for an Islamic burial for Rand, comforting them in their time of great need. Continue reading

Good Friday… is it?

So as I woke up this morning, feeling like an 80 year old who can’t move due to the extreme joint pain I’m currently experiencing, I came across this post from UNHCR. Once again, it brought tears to my eyes. It made me furious that we are still here, years on, impotent as the once-great Syria is destroyed, as millions of Syrians, men, women and children, are forced to abandon their homes, betrayed by the world at large. Not only have they lost everything, but as they flee from their war-ravaged country in search of safe haven, they are set upon, blamed for everything wrong with the world. And people ask – when will this stop? Continue reading

Because that’s us [me]!

Phenomenal woman – Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me. Continue reading