On poverty/ being an idea/ running like buffoons

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“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

On Poverty

As long as we think we are helping the poor, we will never really be helping the poor. As long as we think we have to sacrifice certain things, as long as we think of it as a giving, as a taking away from what is ours, the problem of poverty will remain, the number of homeless families will increase, of starved and naked children running around in the streets begging for alms from tourists on a land that was in the first place supposed to be theirs will multiply at a rate almost as fast as the number of lice on their sun-burnt heads. I used to think it’s a good idea to help the poor, a selfless, heroic act, worthy of recognition. I would be, after all, giving away something that is mine:

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On poverty/ being an idea/ running like buffoons

When God laughs

powerful words


When God laughs

A Poem by Coyote Poetry


I read Jack London book today “When God laughs.” It is a amazing book.


          Quotes and words from a amazing writer Jack London and friends.”The gods, the gods are stronger: time Falls down before them, all men’s knee Bow, all men’s prayers and sorrow climb Like incense toward them: yea, for these gods, Felise”
Harry Cowell
“That is she! Holy as love, and sweeter! Just a woman, made for love: and yet-how shall
I say?-drenched through with holiness as your own air here is with the perfume of flowers.
Well. they married. They played a hand with the gods-”
Jack London”
How to keep the flame-winged lute-player with his dumb eloquence of desire? To feast him was to lose him.
Their love for each other was a great love. Their granaries were overflowing with plenitude: yet they wanted to keep…

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When God laughs

Sinful Nights of Laal Maas Curry

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Bespoke Traveler

laal-maas-curryI sit upon damask pillows embroidered in gold. The worn threads gleam in the luster of brass diyas. The ghee lit flames gutter, pirouetting into silhouettes against the tapestried walls. Brass platters appear before me: long-grained rice tinged with the fragrance of pandan, thick orbicular chunks of roti, bowls of mint yoghurt, and tamarind chutney. Last of all emerges a tureen filled with lamb cubes bathing in a sauce of sinful spices.

laal-maas-recipeI scoop a palmful of rice onto my plate. I add a steaming roti and some saag. A dollop of raita goes on the side. I ladle the creamy laal maas curry over my rice; its titian hues cascade over the slender ivory kernels. The first swallow is a conjuring trick. The scene shimmers; I close my eyes and when I open them I am a Rajput prince ensconced in my Jaipur palace. A silver orb hangs…

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Sinful Nights of Laal Maas Curry