Darkness

I don't know how to start this post. I am compelled to voice my thoughts but I am also hesitant although I do not know why? I have read quite a bit on revolutions and repressions and the horrific things some people go through and other people do. I do not know why I read about such stuff because it scares me and appalls me and terrifies me even. To think of all the cruelty in this world.... why/ how can a person be so? I cannot fathom what can make people commit such atrocities? Why would anyone enjoy seeing another person in pain much less inflict it?
I do not know why I keep on reading about such stuff.... I have been lucky to be living in a safe haven with a loving family and far from any sort of hatred .... but I shiver at the thought of those people who are not so lucky. Women who are repressed and beaten, people who are tortured, even children who have to face unspeakable atrocities. It leaves me shaken...
I wonder where all this darkness comes from? Is there a dark side to all of us? Are all of us capable of committing such crimes against another person? Or what is it that makes some people so cruel? What do they feel?
I do not know why I get so worked up about these things.. not that I have witnessed or been through anything remotely close. I have led a very protected life... maybe that is the reason... Because at some level I cannot believe that such things could exist but then I know they happen and so I have this struggle within me... it stirs up a lot of emotions within me that I cannot seem to get my head around and it sometimes feels stifling just to acknowledge that we live in a world where people can be utterly cruel. It leaves me with a sense of such profound emptiness.. like a hole in my heart...

Happiness - the Yellow Bike

Why do we leave behind those days of childhood?

The innocence and faith for what we call worldliness and tact..

It was the same dream again

Wish the golden days were back

When all I cared for was time to play

And a loving hug from mom made my day

When homework was the only worry 

And love and hate meant maths and history

When ice cream van jingles excited

And happily were rhymes recited

When I danced on the roof in the rain 

And later sent little boats down the lane

When paper planes flew in class

And lunch hour always seemed scarce

When I chased butterflies and counted stars

And searched for shapes in the clouds afar

When museums were boring and picnics were cool

And I made a zillion excuses to try and miss school

When friendships were sworn for life

And friends stood by in punishment time

When laughter rang no rhyme or reason

And my ambition changed with every season

When I was amazed by the world at large

And learned something new every hour

When dad’s appreciation was the nobel prize 

And happiness was that yellow bike

The last minute syndrome...

I have just spend an entire weekend thinking about this bit of writing I have to turn in on tuesday. I ponder over it, I think about how I should structure it but I dont lift a pen, or rather my laptop to get it done. That will only happen on monday night.
Try as I might, I cannot get rid of this "last minute syndrome".
Just as most of my problems seem to find a solution in my dreams!! I get up in the middle of the night, frantically trying to find that pen and paper to jot down my ideas lest I should forget them. Makes me wonder sometimes if its better for me to try and find solutions or just sleep over it, if only I could control it...
I am nearing the end of my PhD... although technically I have spent 4 years working on it, I am not sure how much time have I actually spent on it. Last minute papers at the six monthly reviews or just before the meetings with my supervisor. Even now, I struggle everyday to trick myself into believing that I have a deadline and this is the last minute. The last minute syndrome!!!