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Month: February, 2016

My wish, her song

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

  • Joan Baez

Through music as a life practice

I want to build a home.

The one I can get away from,

to explore and search for notes

hidden in the corners of human mind

or my heart – depends on what rules.


I want to grow that place of comfort,

with a garden I can throw in fresh seeds

of musical ideas, to nurture into songs.

add space, add wonder, add emptiness;

and then fill it, tune by tune, with love.


When I am lost, exhausted

burnt out of life’s demands

I’ll find refuge amidst those walls

built on the foundation of lessons,

which even if I lost all my memory,

will not be forgotten.


I see magic in their eyes, the world in their weirdness and freedom in their movement. The person behind that costume made a choice – to make a living being laughed at; and that empowers me. They tour the towns, cities and countryside and stand for hours in front of an otherwise bored world. It’s a thankless job, pays so little and takes every drop of emotional energy out of a human being. Yet, they do it.

You, the person on the other side of the circus ring, think that they get to hide who they are. But wait a second, isn’t it what you do too? Sure, you don’t wear a costume.

Hey, go back and look at your life, you have grown a skin to live under. It’s called a doctor, an engineer, a CEO, a chef, a parent, a driver. You have become good at what you do, to shy away from the world when you aren’t good enough. When life throws its challenges and makes you ride a rocky boat, this skin masks you from the world’s judgement. It lets you be.

And that’s what a clown lives for too – to be. Their skin is the one that makes you laugh, lighten up and vent out your frustration; while it hides their own misery and pain.

Clowns. I think about them and feel at home. Where’s my furry costume now?