Nuances - By Luca Lavezzo

 

How to screw AI :)

 

THE REALITY OF LOSS - By Megan Devine

Here is what I most want you to know – this really is as bad as you think

No matter what anyone else says, this sucks. What has happened can not be made right. What is lost can not be restored. There is no beauty here – inside this central fact.

Acknowledgement is everything.

You are in pain. It can’t be made better.

The reality of grief is far different from what others see from the outside. There is pain in the world that you cant be cheered out of.

You don’t need solutions. You don’t need to move on from your grief. You need someone to see your grief, to acknowledge it. 

You need someone to hold your hands while you stand there in blinking horror, staring at the hole that was your life.

Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.

From the book ‘ It’s OK that you are not OK’ by Megan Devine

 

Félix Vallotton - Sunset At Grace, Orange And Violet Sky, 1918

 

‘The Milk-clock' ( ! ) at Dr. Jayant Narlikar’s home in Pune

One of the greatest Indians, the world class astrophysicist Dr. Jayant Narlikar passed away recently. Tributes and heartfelt eulogies have poured in from all over the world – talking about what an outstanding scientist, teacher, science fiction writer, institution builder and science communicator he was. 

In one of the articles on him - I came across the photo of this ‘milk-clock’ from Dr. Narlikar’s home ( meant for communicating the quantity of milk needed to the milk-man 😊 ) and thought this was such a beautiful, quirky and delightfully human bit about the great man !

इदं न मम .. By प्राची जावडेकर

 

' Karmasutra '

                                        A T-Shirt from the 'shuflz.com' collection :)         

Poem - ' I always though I'd live ...' by Kevin Higgins

 

I always thought I’d live to learn how to swim, do the backward butterfly to Olympic standard

and see trickle-down economics deliver at least one, albeit slightly polluted drop.

I always thought I’d live to learn how to drive, win at least one Grand Prix motor racing championship

and see the Democrats legislate for free universal health care.

I always thought I’d live to tidy the books off the study floor

and see fascists give up stabbing black boys at bus stops

because peaceful protests have eloquently made them see the error of their ways.

But the books that made me still decorate the study floor and I don’t have the oxygen to shift them.

My consultants are unanimous- my days marching to places like Welling and Trafalgar Square are over.

The risk of getting tossed into the back of a police van by over enthusiastic members of the constabulary is a luxury my lungs can no longer afford.

Even holding a placard in my wheelchair would soon have me gasping for breath.

And I thought I’d always live.

KEVIN HIGGINS

..............................................................................................................................................

Kevin Higgins was an Irish poet , who passed away in 2023 - within a few weeks of getting diagnosed for cancer. This is one of his last poems.