Humanitarian Workers Quotes

the humanitarian workers [in refugee camps in Goma} were treated rather like the service staff at a seedy mafia-occupied hotel: they were there to provide-food, medicine, housewares, an aura of respectability

It bothered them [humanitarian aide workers] that the camp leaders might be war criminals, not refugees in any conventional sense of the word, but fugitives.

On World Humanitarian Day 2014, thanks to ALL aid workers who carry or have carried out lifesaving work. Salute to our champions

Every generation needs caretakers - and the caretaker of your generation is you.

Even the most radical white abolitionists, basing their opposition to slavery on moral and humanitarian grounds failed to understand that the rapidly developing capitalism from the North was also an oppressive system. They viewed slavery as a detestable and inhuman institution, an archaic transgression of justice. But they did not recognize that the white worker in the North, his or her status as "free" laborer notwithstanding, was no different from the enslaved "worker" in the South: both were victims of economic exploitation.

According to the Vietnam Women’s Memorial Foundation statement, approximately 10,000 American military women were stationed in Vietnam during the war. Most were nurses in the Army, Air Force, and Navy, but women also served as physicians and medical personnel, and in air traffic control and military intelligence. Civilian women also served in Vietnam as news correspondents and workers for the Red Cross, Donut Dollies, the USO, Special Services, the American Friends Service Committee, Catholic Relief Services, and other humanitarian organizations.

Many of the great humanitarian and environmental campaigns of our time have been to make the unknown real, the invisible visible, to bring the faraway near, so that the suffering of sweatshop workers, torture victims, beaten children, even the destruction of other species and remote places, impinges on the imagination and perhaps prompts you to act.

Messiahs don't drop from the sky, As mortal suffering jumps the fence. A messiah is just a mortal, Minus all the indifference.

All meditate on symbols, I meditate on people.

Choose yourself by yourself, be the chosen by choice.

We don't know the sun by how bright it shines, we know it by how bright it makes the world shine. If you want to shine, be the light in someone's life.

If you can starve to death while sharing your bread with others, instead of appeasing your own hunger while others starve to death, that's the highest miracle of all.

The idea of Appalachia is well understood; the real place, less so. It is a borderland, not truly of the South or the North, and West Virginia is the only state entirely within its bounds. Because of its enormous natural resources and their subsequent extraction, which has largely profited corporations based elsewhere, the relationship between the people of West Virginia and the broader United States of America is often compared to that between a colonized people and their colonizers. The programs of Lyndon Johnson’s War on Poverty that funneled national dollars and aid workers to central Appalachia, though founded on humanitarian ideas, also furthered this troubled interdependency.

No judgment, no mockery, no grudge, no assumption - just fall. Fall head over heels for the world, like you did for your first love. Remember the loss of appetite, remember the sleeplessness, remember the constant desire to see them - once you feel that kind of intense attachment to the world, that day the world will have a true lover - that day the society will have a high voltage human.

Qatar & The West (The Sonnet) All of a sudden the entire west is peeved at Qatar, Because only the west has exclusive rights to exposure. All of a sudden we care about the migrant workers, The Afghans, Palestinians and Kashmiris no longer matter. Human rights issue here is, we don't care about human rights, We only care about filling the air with hypocrisy and mania. Our poster boy just dumped half his new workforce as garbage, We buy Oscar, ditch Batgirl, and we diss Qatar for buying FIFA! We are just peeved that the Arabs are showing off for a change, Sure it's unacceptable, since showing off is a western tradition. Yes, it's true that the Middle East reeks with human rights issues, But it is also teeming with passion beyond western comprehension. If you really care about human rights stick to a cause for more than a fortnight. Otherwise keep your trap shut, lest you open and be proved a privileged white.

Hoover wanted the new investigation to be a showcase for his bureau, which he had continued to restructure. To counter the sordid image created by Burns and the old school of venal detectives, Hoover adopted the approach of Progressive thinkers who advocated for ruthlessly efficient systems of management. These systems were modeled on the theories of Frederick Winslow Taylor, an industrial engineer, who argued that companies should be run “scientifically,” with each worker’s task minutely analyzed and quantified. Applying these methods to government, Progressives sought to end the tradition of crooked party bosses packing government agencies, including law enforcement, with patrons and hacks. Instead, a new class of technocratic civil servants would manage burgeoning bureaucracies, in the manner of Herbert Hoover—“ the Great Engineer”—who had become a hero for administering humanitarian relief efforts so expeditiously during World War I. As the historian Richard Gid Powers has noted, J. Edgar Hoover found in Progressivism an approach that reflected his own obsession with organization and social control. What’s more, here was a way for Hoover, a deskbound functionary, to cast himself as a dashing figure—a crusader for the modern scientific age. The fact that he didn’t fire a gun only burnished his image. Reporters noted that the “days of ‘old sleuth’ are over” and that Hoover had “scrapped the old ‘gum shoe, dark lantern and false moustache’ traditions of the Bureau of Investigation and substituted business methods of procedure.” One article said, “He plays golf. Whoever could picture Old Sleuth doing that?

The Soviets could have become a mortal danger to us, if they had succeeded in undermining the military spirit of our soldiers with the slogan of the German Communist Party: "No more War!" For at the same time as they were trying by Communist Party terrorism, by strikes, by their press, and by every other means at their disposal to ensure the triumph of pacifism in our country, the Russians were building up an enormous army. Disregarding the namby-pamby utterances about humanitarianism which they spread so assiduously in Germany, in their own country they drove their workers to an astonishing degree, and the Soviet worker was taught by means of the Stakhanov system to work both harder and longer than his counterpart in either Germany or the capitalist States. The more we see of conditions in Russia, the more thankful we must be that we struck in time. In another ten years there would have sprung up in Russia a mass of industrial centres, inaccessible to attack, which would have produced armaments on an inexhaustible scale, while the rest of Europe would have degenerated into a defenceless plaything of Soviet policy. It is very stupid to sneer at the Stakhanov system. The arms and equipment of the Russian armies are the best proof of its efficiency in the handling of industrial man power. Stalin, too, must command our unconditional respect. In his own way he is a hell of a fellow ! He knows his models, Genghiz Khan and the others, very well, and the scope of his industrial planning is exceeded only by our own Four Year Plan. And there is no doubt that he is quite determined that there shall be in Russia no unemployment such as one finds in such capitalist States as the United States of America...

Humanitarian Industrialization Fourth industrial revolution my eye! We haven't yet recovered from the disparities produced by the first, second and third industrial revolutions. Morons keep peddling cold and pompous dreams devoid of humanity, and morons keep consuming them like good little backboneless vermin. Grow a backbone already! We always look at the glorious aspects of industrialization and overlook all those countless lives that are ruined by it. But it's okay! As long as we are not struck by a catastrophe ourselves, our sleep of moronity never breaks - so long as our comfort is unchallenged, and enhanced rather, it's okay if millions keep falling through the cracks. So long as you can afford a smartphone that runs smooth like butter, it doesn't matter if it is produced by modern day slave labors who can't even afford the basic essentials of living. With all the revenue the tech companies earn by charging you a thousand dollar for a hundred dollar smartphone, they can't even pay decent wages to the people working their butt off to manufacture their assets - because apparently, it is more important for the people at the top to afford private jets and trips to space, than the factory workers to afford healthcare, housing and a couple of square meals a day. And this you call industrialization - well done - you just figured out the secret to glory without being bothered by something so boring as basic humanity. I say to you here and now, listen well - stop abusing revolutionary scientific discoveries in the making of a cold, mechanistic, disparity infested world - use science and technology to wipe out the disparities, not cause them. Break free from your modern savagery of inhuman industrialization, and focus your mind on humanitarian industrialization.

The tactical situation seems simple enough. Thanks to Marx’s prophecy, the Communists knew for certain that misery must soon increase. They also knew that the party could not win the confidence of the workers without fighting for them, and with them, for an improvement of their lot. These two fundamental assumptions clearly determined the principles of their general tactics. Make the workers demand their share, back them up in every particular episode in their unceasing fight for bread and shelter. Fight with them tenaciously for the fulfilment of their practical demands, whether economic or political. Thus you will win their confidence. At the same time, the workers will learn that it is impossible for them to better their lot by these petty fights, and that nothing short of a wholesale revolution can bring about an improvement. For all these petty fights are bound to be unsuccessful; we know from Marx that the capitalists simply cannot continue to compromise and that, ultimately, misery must increase. Accordingly, the only result—but a valuable one—of the workers’ daily fight against their oppressors is an increase in their class consciousness; it is that feeling of unity which can be won only in battle, together with a desperate knowledge that only revolution can help them in their misery. When this stage is reached, then the hour has struck for the final show-down. This is the theory and the Communists acted accordingly. At first they support the workers in their fight to improve their lot. But, contrary to all expectations and prophecies, the fight is successful. The demands are granted. Obviously, the reason is that they had been too modest. Therefore one must demand more. But the demands are granted again44. And as misery decreases, the workers become less embittered, more ready to bargain for wages than to plot for revolution. Now the Communists find that their policy must be reversed. Something must be done to bring the law of increasing misery into operation. For instance, colonial unrest must be stirred up (even where there is no chance of a successful revolution), and with the general purpose of counteracting the bourgeoisification of the workers, a policy fomenting catastrophes of all sorts must be adopted. But this new policy destroys the confidence of the workers. The Communists lose their members, with the exception of those who are inexperienced in real political fights. They lose exactly those whom they describe as the ‘vanguard of the working class’; their tacitly implied principle: ‘The worse things are, the better they are, since misery must precipitate revolution’, makes the workers suspicious—the better the application of this principle, the worse are the suspicions entertained by the workers. For they are realists; to obtain their confidence, one must work to improve their lot. Thus the policy must be reversed again: one is forced to fight for the immediate betterment of the workers’ lot and to hope at the same time for the opposite. With this, the ‘inner contradictions’ of the theory produce the last stage of confusion. It is the stage when it is hard to know who is the traitor, since treachery may be faithfulness and faithfulness treachery. It is the stage when those who followed the party not simply because it appeared to them (rightly, I am afraid) as the only vigorous movement with humanitarian ends, but especially because it was a movement based on a scientific theory, must either leave it, or sacrifice their intellectual integrity; for they must now learn to believe blindly in some authority. Ultimately, they must become mystics—hostile to reasonable argument. It seems that it is not only capitalism which is labouring under inner contradictions that threaten to bring about its downfall …

There is a thirty-three page essay by Arundhati Roy on the issue yet it doesn't smell of the jungles. It smells of her. It stinks of her agenda. Why, I wonder? Why is it that most of the op-eds and essays from the so-called intelligentsia comprising editors, professors, historians, political analysts, social workers, NGO entrepreneurs, humanitarians, and civil society leaders favour the false Naxal

By April 23, 2014, thirty-four cases and six deaths from Ebola in Liberia were recorded. By mid-June, 16 more people died. At the time it was thought to be malaria but when seven more people died the following month tests showed that was the Ebola virus. The primary reason for the spreading of the Ebola virus was the direct contact from one person to the next and the ingesting of bush meat. Soon doctors and nurses also became infected. On July 2, 2014, the head surgeon of Redemption Hospital was treated at the JFK Medical Center in Monrovia, where he died from the disease. His death was followed by four nurses at Phebe Hospital in Bong County. At about the same time two U.S. health care workers, Dr. Kent Brantly and a nurse were also infected with the disease. However, they were medically evacuated from Liberia to the United States for treatment where they made a full recovery. Another doctor from Uganda was not so lucky and died from the disease. Arik Air suspended all flights between Nigeria and Liberia and checkpoints were set up at all the ports and border crossings. In August of 2014, the impoverished slum area of West Point was cordoned off. Riots ensued as protesters turned violent. The looting of a clinic of its supplies, including blood-stained bed sheets and mattresses caused the military to shoot into the crowds. Still more patients became infected, causing a shortage of staff and logistics. By September there had been a total of 3,458 cases of which there were 1,830 deaths according to the World Health Organization. Hospitals and clinics could no longer handle this crisis and patients who were treated outside died before they could get help. There were cases where the bodies were just dumped into the Mesurado River. The Ivory Coast out of compassion, opened carefully restricted humanitarian routes and resumed the previously suspended flights to Liberia. Ellen Johnson Sirleaf the president of Libera sent a letter to President Barack Obama concerning the outbreak of Ebola that was on the verge of overrunning her country. The message was desperate, “I am being honest with you when I say that at this rate, we will never break the transmission chain and the virus will overwhelm us.” Having been a former finance minister and World Bank official, Johnson Sirleaf was not one for histrionics however she recognized the pandemic as extremely dangerous. The United States responded to her request and American troops came in and opened a new 60-bed clinic in the Sierra Leone town of Kenema, but by then the outbreak was described as being out of control. Still not understanding the dangerous contagious aspects of this epidemic at least eight Liberian soldiers died after contracting the disease from a single female camp follower. In spite of being a relatively poor country, Cuba is one of the most committed in deploying doctors to crisis zones. It sent more than 460 Cuban doctors and nurses to West Africa. In October Germany sent medical supplies and later that month a hundred additional U.S. troops arrived in Liberia, bringing the total to 565 to assist in the fight against the deadly disease. To understand the severity of the disease, a supply order was placed on October 15th for a 6 month supply of 80,000 body bags and 1 million protective suits. At that time it was reported that 223 health care workers had been infected with Ebola, and 103 of them had died in Liberia. Fear of the disease also slowed down the functioning of the Liberian government. President Sirleaf, had in an emergency announcement informed absent government ministers and civil service leaders to return to their duties. She fired 10 government officials, including deputy ministers in the central government who failed to return to work.

Fetch those cables from your spinal cord, and electrify this dampened world!

On the contrary, reading or listening to many critical academics, returning aid workers, journalists and politicians commenting on humanitarian operations, one might well think that the profession is actually an abomination. Humanitarian action is often portrayed as the inept self-interested work of ignorant neo-colonial devils, rather than as an efficient and effective caring profession.

To the wounded stranger I am ointment, but to the inhuman vermin I am volcano.

The powers of world-building are all encoded in you. Bring those codes to life and write the world anew.

Messiahs don't drop from the sky, As mortal suffering jumps the fence. A messiah is just a mortal, Minus all the indifference. Peygambers don't jog down from jennet, As people are troubled by malice. A peygamber is just a regular person, Who has conquered their prejudice. Buddhas don't grow in a zen garden, As the world reeks of bigotry. A buddha is just an ordinary being, Minus all the self-centricity.

The helper is the herald, the lifter is the light. In a world with double vision, selflessness is the only sight.

The art of self-discovery is in self-annihilation.

Revolution is my meditation.

The I is in all people, But people are not in all the I. That is why we suffer so much, That is why we all cry, cry and cry.

My soldiers are not to crave for solitude and serenity, they are not to sit in a cave and meditate for eternity seeking enlightenment, they are to rise, fall, learn and burn in bringing smiles on teary faces.

Die and help live.

I didn't wait for the world to happen to me. I stood up and happened to the world.

Throw away your luxury, then come and talk to me.

The measure of a human is sacrifice, the pleasure of a human is sacrifice, the treasure of a human is sacrifice.

There is no social work, there is only family work, because unless you see the society as your own family all change is gonna be shortlived.

Our health, our intellect, our resources - if all these only benefit us and do nothing for the people around us, then what's the point of it all!

humanitarian grounds, failed to understand that the rapidly developing capitalism of the North was also an oppressive system. They viewed slavery as a detestable and inhuman institution, an archaic transgression of justice. But they did not recognize that the white worker in the North, his or her status as “free” laborer notwithstanding, was no different from the enslaved “worker” in the South: both were victims of economic exploitation. As militant as William Lloyd Garrison is supposed to have been, he was vehemently against wage laborers’ right to organize. The inaugural issue of the Liberator included an article denouncing the efforts of Boston workers to form a political party: An attempt has been made—it is still in the making—we regret to say—to inflame the minds of our working classes against the more opulent, and to persuade men that they are condemned and oppressed by a wealthy aristocracy … It is in the highest degree criminal, therefore, to exasperate our mechanics to deeds of violence or to array them under a party banner.58 As a rule, white abolitionists either defended the industrial capitalists or expressed no conscious class loyalty at all. This unquestioning acceptance of the capitalist economic system was evident in the program of the women’s rights movement as well. If most abolitionists viewed slavery as a nasty blemish which needed to be eliminated, most women’s righters viewed male supremacy in a similar manner—as an immoral flaw in their otherwise acceptable society. The leaders of the women’s rights movement did not suspect that the enslavement of Black people in the South, the economic exploitation of Northern workers and the social oppression of women might be systematically related. Within the early women’s movement, little was said about white working people—not even about white women workers. Though many of the women were supporters of the abolitionist campaign, they failed to integrate their anti-slavery consciousness into their analysis of women’s oppression.

Struggle in the streets, struggle in the beaches, only then you shall know, what suits the humans, what suits the leeches.

To serve is to be human.

Only love can bring full freedom, all else brings half freedom. What is half freedom you ask? When in the name of freedom you imprison yourself to one side or sect, everything outside that sect seems evil. For example, fundamentalists choose the side of blind faith, and every act of reason seems like blasphemy - just like cold, sharp-tongue intellectuals choose the side of rationality even at the expense of humanity, and everything illogical seems outdated - or wait, I got a better one - so-called social activists often get so attached to their self-imposed identity of victimhood, that every person with a political, corporate, legal or bureaucratic background seems to appear as devil incarnate. This, my friend, is what I call "half freedom", which by the way, is far worse than the lack of freedom. And even though it manifests as an act of willful choice, when you get down to it, it's just plain old rigidity. And if we want to build a truly just, inclusive and progressive society, this hypocritical half-freedom won't do - what's needed is whole freedom - a kind of freedom that liberates the mind of all superstition as well as ignorant suspiciousness. It's time we realize, yelling about justice without using common sense is just as useless as keeping quiet. What this means is that, we gotta come together regardless of our background - the teacher, the scientist, the student, the copper, the politician, the civil servant, the entrepreneur, the economist, the janitor, the construction worker - every single person from every single walk of life must come forward surpassing all suspicious conspiracy, and contribute the best of their capacity in the making of a real civilized world.

Every generation needs a janitor, Every era needs an exterminator. Every tierra needs a transformer, Every generation needs a generator.

The world seems like a wonderful place, When you don't know what's going on in it. Witnessing the darkness yet choosing to smile, That's what defines the illuminating spirit.

Sacrifice is my illumination, Servanthood is my sultanet. People are the reason of my life, I got too much electricity to sit and wait.

For a soldier of ascension there is no room for self-gratification, beyond the bare necessities of sustenance.

Pick up a broom, not bombs, Wield a mop, not weapons of mass destruction. Sacred minds make sacred society, Peace comes when the very thought of arms causes repulsion.

Sacred minds make sacred society.

Pick up a broom, not bombs, Wield a mop, not weapons.

The nineteenth century brought no improvement in the ethics of capitalism. The Industrial Revolution that swept through Europe enriched the bankers and capital-owners, but condemned millions of workers to a life of abject poverty. In the European colonies things were even worse. In 1876, King Leopold II of Belgium set up a nongovernmental humanitarian organisation with the declared aim of exploring Central Africa and fighting the slave trade along the Congo River. It was also charged with improving conditions for the inhabitants of the region by building roads, schools and hospitals. In 1885 the European powers agreed to give this organisation control of 2.3 million square kilometres in the Congo basin. This territory, seventy-five times the size of Belgium, was henceforth known as the Congo Free State. Nobody asked the opinion of the territory’s 20–30 million inhabitants. Within a short time the humanitarian organisation became a business enterprise whose real aim was growth and profit. The schools and hospitals were forgotten, and the Congo basin was instead filled with mines and plantations, run by mostly Belgian officials who ruthlessly exploited the local population. The rubber industry was particularly notorious. Rubber was fast becoming an industrial staple, and rubber export was the Congo’s most important source of income. The African villagers who collected the rubber were required to provide higher and higher quotas. Those who failed to deliver their quota were punished brutally for their ‘laziness’. Their arms were chopped off and occasionally entire villages were massacred. According to the most moderate estimates, between 1885 and 1908 the pursuit of growth and profits cost the lives of 6 million individuals (at least 20 per cent of the Congo’s population). Some estimates reach up to 10 million deaths.4

We’ve organized a setup where we—me, Orren and a few friends—are going to control every industrial property south of the border.” “Whose property?” “Why . . . the people’s. This is not an old-fashioned grab for private profit. It’s a deal with a mission—a worthy, public-spirited mission—to manage the nationalized properties of the various People’s States of South America, to teach their workers our modern techniques of production, to help the underprivileged who’ve never had a chance, to—” He broke off abruptly, though she had merely sat looking at him without shifting her glance. “You know,” he said suddenly, with a cold little chuckle, “if you’re so damn anxious to hide that you came from the slums, you ought to be less indifferent to the philosophy of social welfare. It’s always the poor who lack humanitarian instincts. One has to be born to wealth in order to know the finer feelings of altruism.

We’ve organized a setup where we—me, Orren and a few friends—are going to control every industrial property south of the border.” “Whose property?” “Why . . . the people’s. This is not an old-fashioned grab for private profit. It’s a deal with a mission—a worthy, public-spirited mission—to manage the nationalized properties of the various People’s States of South America, to teach their workers our modern techniques of production, to help the underprivileged who’ve never had a chance, to—” He broke off abruptly, though she had merely sat looking at him without shifting her glance. “You know,” he said suddenly, with a cold little chuckle, “if you’re so damn anxious to hide that you came from the slums, you ought to be less indifferent to the philosophy of social welfare. It’s always the poor who lack humanitarian instincts. One has to be born to wealth in order to know the finer feelings of altruism.” “I’ve never tried to hide that I came from the slums,” she said in the simple, impersonal tone of a factual correction. “And I haven’t any sympathy for that welfare philosophy. I’ve seen enough of them to know what makes the kind of poor who want something for nothing.” He did not answer, and she added suddenly, her voice astonished, but firm, as if in final confirmation of a long-standing doubt, “Jim, you don’t care about it either. You don’t care about any of that welfare hogwash.” “Well, if money is all that you’re interested in,” he snapped, “let me tell you that that deal will bring me a fortune. That’s what you’ve always admired, isn’t it, wealth?

I chose to take the weight of the world on my shoulders, but you don't necessarily have to. If you can't take the weight of the world on your shoulders, take the weight of your nation - if you can't take the weight of your nation, take the weight of your city - if you can't take the weight of your city, take the weight of your neighborhood. Start small but start somewhere - take responsibility for the issues of your immediate vicinity if not the whole world, and the world will change, slowly but surely.

So many people, including relief workers, talk these days about 'mere' charity, 'mere' humanitarianism. As if coping with a dishonourable world honourably, and a cruel world with kindness, were not honour enough.

Mission over Recognition (The Sonnet) Let me show you what is action without expectation! What is it to do your duty, without regard for recognition! Quite often I lose count of my works, Yet I've never had a fancy book launch. I write in silence, I release in silence, I have no relation to praise and applause. I am the peak of humanitarian literature, All without an ounce of support or award. I am not a writer, I am world reformer, My first concern is an integrated world. Whatever happens next, know that it had nothing to do with the making of a mission. It's easy to bask in the glory of the sun, not so much to fuel solar combustion.

No sewage is ever sanctified without sewage-workers, No society is ever civilized without reformers. No mutation ever occurs without an anomaly, No world is brought to life without love-laborers.

There is no sunrise without sacrifice, There is no unity without inclusion. There is no love without conviction, There is no justice without unsubmission. No sewage is ever sanctified without sewage-workers, No society is ever civilized without reformers. No mutation ever occurs without an anomaly, No world is brought to life without love-laborers.

In crisis, a civilian wonders, how can I save my family - a politician wonders, how can I save myself - a humanitarian wonders, how can I save the world!

By turns a medical doctor, engineer, Third World nation healthcare worker, space explorer, political activist, media personality, writer and dancer, Jemison shows that the drive to know more about the universe does not need to come from a cold place of calculating conquest; it can be the ultimate expression of artistic, intellectual and humanitarian drives all pulling together towards a more equitable future.

Lives to serve before I sleep, Service is my salvation. Wounds to heal before I sleep, Selfless joy brings illumination.

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The only devil I dread is myself - no saint am I, just human in help!

Lives to Serve Before I Sleep (The Sonnet) Lives to serve before I sleep, Service is my salvation. Wounds to heal before I sleep, Selfless joy brings illumination. There are times people need help, there are times they need motivation. Keep your mouth absolutely shut, if you cannot make the distinction. Bridges to build before I sleep, Walls are too savage a burden. Tears to wipe before I sleep, In human smile lies human heaven. Chains to hack before I sleep, Chains hack humanity to pieces. Peace to plant before I sleep, Come join me, let's grow a forest!

Lives to serve before I sleep, service is my salvation.

Sacrifice everything that is yours, to call up the humans in others.

O my mighty sisters and brothers, forget not that the ideal of humanity is the search of truth. In this pursuit, countless souls have sacrificed themselves in the past. And in this pursuit, countless more shall need to sacrifice themselves.

Arise O lion-heart! Awake, O great soldier! Misery has come upon the world. It is wailing for help. It is wailing for redemption. Won’t you do anything, my friend!

Music is my MDMA, Cultures, my cocaine. Languages are my LSD, People are my heaven.

I got no business with such cowardly insects, who try to hide pettiness with perfectionism. Give me ten messy vessels restless for purpose, I shall give the world 10,000 years of ascension.

Rise my lions, roar my lions! Prayers are flooding in - who'll bring reliance!

One sacrifice awakens millions, One life resuscitates humanity.

Smiling through martyrdom, I magnetize magnanimity. One sacrifice awakens millions, One life resuscitates humanity.

One sacrifice awakens millions.

My soldiers are my gift to cosmos, archaic narrowness is no match for them. I got martyred in the making of a life, to shine as beacon for generations to come.

The world is coursing through my blood, I can live without myself, but not the world. You can take me away from the society, But how will you take the society away from my blood!

Life and death are civilian affair. A reformer works each day with coffin in pocket. There'll be no life for any of the civilians, If the reformer slips into drunken enjoyment.

Seclusion Won’t Do (The Sonnet) Each of you must turn into a sufi saint, Each of you must turn into a latin lover. Each of you must turn into a shaolin monk, Each of you must turn into a bengal tiger. It won't do to seclude yourself in a monastery, It won't do to seclude yourself behind a desk. The monk must come down to the streets of life, The scholar must till the soil with their sweat. Service of humanity is the fulfillment of divinity, Service of humanity is the right use of intellect. Occasional seclusion is good, to charge up the mind, But life-long seclusion from society is sheer waste. Enlightenment that doesn't eliminate separation is no enlightenment. Intelligence that doesn't elevate the collective is no intelligence.

Make A Name (The Sonnet) Make a name to give hope, Not to have control over people. Make a name to lift another, Not to look down on the people. Be a symbol that burns bright, Even when you are not around. Selfish self is septic self, Be an epitome of sacrifice unbound. Only fools dream of ruling the world, Sapiens dream of self-annihilation. I dream, breathe and live as servant, Servanthood brings sanctification. Fall without fail at the feet of the forgotten. Lend a hand to lift a heart, together we are beacon.

It ain't time for comfort, it ain't time for leisure, not yet anyways. It's time for work – uncorrupted, unvarnished, untainted humanitarian work.

Work, work, work - in silence - work - in agony - work – in tears - work - don't mind the mockery - don't mind the treachery - don't mind the heartbleed - just keep working. Why you ask? Because someone somewhere has love and light in their life because of your work.

There's no social work, only family work.

Let the people find a shelter in you, and you shall attain an eternal shelter in them.

If you don't like the world you are born in, build the world you wish you were born in.

I am no motivation salesman. I am not here to ease your life, I am here to make an absolute mess of your life. I am here to turn it upside down. I am here to turn you into a dynamite of pure humanitarian potential.

Only sultan is the servant.

Honor He Wrote Sonnet 57 Dreams that we witness in sleep, ain't no dream, Real dream is the one that doesn't let us sleep. Only when mindful martyrs work without blink, Rest of the world has a peaceful sleep. I have been sleepless ever since I came of age, Such is the madness of the dream of assimilation. The thought of rest rarely enters my mind, No matter how much the climb causes desolation. No dream comes to fruition without restless nights, No sun ever rises without first crossing darkness. No mortal ever turns immortal without self-sacrifice, No world is ever beautified without martyr's madness. Enough with the snobbish nonsense of dream analyzing! All know sleepwalking, now let ‘em witness dreamwalking!

Chosen by Choice (The Sonnet) Choose yourself by yourself, Be the chosen by choice. Nobody's gonna come to choose you, Without any self-interest. Nobody's gonna pop out of fiction, And choose you to lift the world. The world is your family, You are their self-determined vanguard You are the chooser, you are the choice, You alone are the divine intervention. One who is responsible is also divine, What is indifferent is simply damnation. Choose yourself as the world's defender. There's no greater defender than an unbent lover.

I have never been a good son, I'll never be a good partner, and definitely not a good parent, for I am a martyr - I am a martyr for humanity.

I already commented related articles about sex workers in India or sexual slavery in India. Abusing them is not good at all because they are also humans. But it is better to educate them upto certain level and try to use human resources available. Prostitutions in india or any other countries can not be stopped completely as even politicians are also into this. But regulation is needed for them and also education is needed for them. Some NGOs converted sexual workers into humanitarian or social workers or self employed or some other jobs not selling values. Selling body is selling value but if it comes to national security in certain places, those places can not be avoided and if they girls or boys who are into this work with willingness and consents, it is better to regulate them. But try maximum to convert them to get educated and find a job

Awake, Arise, break yourself, and lo your light pours as divine help.

The intellectual idiots don't understand anything simple, unless it is presented in their savage ism-istic fashion. That's why I coined the term "gentalist" in my last work - to refer to the individuals with an insurmountable concern for people over isms - over all sorts of sectarianism. To put it simply, a gentalist is just a plain human whose foremost priority is to be human, above all cultural, political, religious, intellectual and ideological barbarism. In fact, every gentalist is a human, but not every human is a gentalist.

Give me ten beings who burn for the people, and I'll give you a world of the future.

Fabric of Stars (The Sonnet) Rise or fall doesn’t matter, If you've helped a few people. Live or die doesn’t matter, If you've helped a few people. The point of life is not to live, Any more than it is to just eat. The point of life is to lift lives, In their smile is victory, in tears defeat. To win over enemies is ridiculously easy, To win over hearts is the real act of valor. Muscles wither, clothes get torn to pieces, Valor and virtue can’t be bound by no graveyard. Graves are for animals and gutter-crawling worms. Helpers get forever etched upon the fabric of stars.

Long enough snobbish retards have ruled the world! Now it is time for selfless nuts to take charge.

Cowards die, I am already martyred.

In work be restless, in love be limitless, in care be oceandeep, in service be selfless.

My first and foremost love is society.

If a chunk of alum can purify a bucket of putrid water, your heart can purify the world with its gentalist power.

The world is my valentine.

Live to serve, serve to live.

World is My Valentine (The Sonnet) My first and foremost love is society, Romance 'n things are second priority. My love seeks not to be loved in return, In fact, my love thrives in cold nonreciprocity. Mine is not to reason why, mine is to love and die, There's no greater love than that of a one-sided lover. The world is to me what Julia was to Saint Valentine, And what the impoverished were to Nicholas Santa. A world anemic in love needs a day to celebrate love, I am a lover eternal, for me every day is valentine's day. The world is my valentine, as such it is under my care, It's my duty to protect it from Claudius' mischievous play. I shall stop breathing before I break this pledge of mine. There's no greater power than the pledge of a lover divine.