Multicultural Love Quotes

Keep your language. Love its sounds, its modulation, its rhythm. But try to march together with men of different languages, remote from your own, who wish like you for a more just and human world.

I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified multi-cultural, post-modern deconstruction that is anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I’ve been up linked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced, I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting edge, state-of-the-art bi-coastal multi-tasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond! I’m new wave, but I’m old school and my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hot-wired, heat seeking, warm-hearted cool customer, voice activated and bio-degradable. I interface with my database, my database is in cyberspace, so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time I’m radioactive. Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin the wave, dodgin the bullet and pushin the envelope. I’m on-point, on-task, on-message and off drugs. I’ve got no need for coke and speed. I've got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in-the-moment, on-the-edge, over-the-top and under-the-radar. A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary. A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a pro-active outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial! I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down because I’m tireless and I’m wireless, I’m an alpha male on beta-blockers. I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever, laid-back but fashion-forward. Up-front, down-home, low-rent, high-maintenance. Super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built-to-last! I’m a hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk head case pretty maturely post-traumatic and I’ve got a love-child that sends me hate mail. But, I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing-- a supportive, bonding, nurturing primary care-giver. My output is down, but my income is up. I took a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash-flow. I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds and I watch trash sports! I’m gender specific, capital intensive, user-friendly and lactose intolerant. I like rough sex. I like tough love. I use the “F” word in my emails and the software on my hard-drive is hardcore--no soft porn. I bought a microwave at a mini-mall; I bought a mini-van at a mega-store. I eat fast-food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bite-sized, ready-to-wear and I come in all sizes. A fully-equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically-proven, scientifically- formulated medical miracle. I’ve been pre-wash, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed and, I have an unlimited broadband capacity. I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean! Cocked, locked and ready-to-rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow, I ride with the tide. I’ve got glide in my stride. Drivin and movin, sailin and spinin, jiving and groovin, wailin and winnin. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty and lunch time is crunch time. I’m hangin in, there ain’t no doubt and I’m hangin tough, over and out!

Beneath the armor of skin/and/bone/and/mind most of our colors are amazingly the same.

Individual cultures and ideologies have their appropriate uses but none of them erase or replace the universal experiences, like love and weeping and laughter, common to all human beings.

If the idea of loving those whom you have been taught to recognize as your enemies is too overwhelming, consider more deeply the observation that we are all much more alike than we are unalike.

We ache with the yearning that turns half into whole and offer no excuses for the beauty of our souls.

The glorification of hatred is predicated on a foundation of fear-induced ignorance venomous to haters and those they believe they hate.

We are not born to accommodate tyranny over our hearts, minds, bodies, or souls. We are here to confirm an abundance of love-inspired possibilities greater than such restrictions.

Our greatest power as nations and individuals is not the ability to employ assault weapons, suicide bombers, and drones to destroy each other. The greater more creative powers with which we may arm ourselves are grace and compassion sufficient enough to love and save each other.

I stole a bit of a chopped vegetable and was about to put it in my mouth when Jae’s long fingers closed over my wrist. “What? You can’t eat this raw?” “It’s bitter melon. You won’t like it.” He went into the fridge and came out with something that looked halfway familiar. “Here, leftover bao. There’s char siu inside.” “The red pork stuff? Yeah, I like that. I thought it was Chinese.” “It is. We also eat hamburgers and spaghetti.

What a beautiful name,” Kimberly said. “Does it mean anything? I love multicultural names because they have such wonderful meanings, from wonderful rich cultures.” Kimberly was smiling the kindly smile of people who thought “culture” the unfamiliar colorful reserve of colorful people, a word that always had to be qualified with “rich.” She would not think Norway had a “rich culture.

An outrageous instinct to love and be loved blinded your arms to lines of propriety––Women and Men, Christians and Jews, Muslims and Buddhists, white, black, red, brown. An outrageous instinct to love and be loved executed your brain every hour on the hour.

Love is simple, if you allow it to be simple." Julian to Hannah, Take A Chance

What is a colour when death comes to call upon the black man and also pays a visit to his neighbour who is white? Can either by his hue keep alive his mortal soul? What is a colour?

There is a great new work before us, which is to replace with true knowledge the ignorance that has destroyed human minds. We will construct unity in a world [which] has been brutally torn apart by false divisions of race, religion, gender, nationality, and age. We will heal with unconditional love those souls whose hearts have been disfigured by hatred and loneliness.

Don't think about that. Just believe I'll be okay.

I love it when a woman can emotionally bring her man to his knees, and when he, in turn, pushes her to and over the edge when they make love. Give me Romance, Sex, Love and HEAs. Always.

God stipulates in the Bible that Jesus Followers are to love and serve everyone regardless of their faith or lack of it. But, this does not require us to honour and respect their Biblically-heinous cultural practises like multiculturalism does!

I know what it’s like to be different. I’m a Native American in a white world.

Life is a school. Have fun! Enjoy! But don't forget to learn!

GIVE THANKS AND PRAISE THE LORD, AND WE'LL FEEL ALRIGHT LET'S GET TOGETHER AND FEEL ALRIGHT

You’re no damsel-in-distress. If you were, you wouldn’t be the right woman for me. I like my heroines with backbone and bite.

It is insufficient to only tell your children that racism and racists are bad. It is insufficient to simply explain “We love people of all colors.” It is lazy and near damaging to proclaim a love for all people but never make the leap of actually reaching out to people of color or adding tangible diversity to your life. In a world filled with empty rhetoric, our children don’t need to hear words from us without action. They need to see us embody the beliefs we claim to hold dear.

Brielle suddenly felt her libido skittering across an ice-covered pond, heading for impact. And on the other side of that pond was Matthew Montgomery, the immovable object, preparing to break her fall.

Isn't content also context? I ask him. Your experiences, your circumstances, the time you live in? Consciousness isn't free-floating; it's enmeshed. That is true, he says, but you know, I believe that the modern diaspora--that so many of us find ourselves somewhere else, migrants of some kind--global, multicultural, less rooted, less dependent on our immediate history of family or country to shape ourselves--all of that is preparing us for a looser and freer understanding of ourselves as content whose context can change. Nationalism is on the rise, I say. He nods. That's a throwback. A fear. A refusal of the future. But the future cannot be refused.

Is it really true that the only good thing a Blackman can offer in a relationship with a white woman is thunderous sex? Of course, sex plays a vital healing role in every loving relationship. That is a fact of life. But, as we discover in the story of Glasgow Kiss, sex is not always the only thing that occupies a Blackman’s mind. On the contrary, when a man is as passionate, dedicated, committed and determined as Mamadu is to fight and hold onto his true love, irrespective of the numerous challenges he faces, he is able show that it is far more important to pay attention to his heartbeat than the growing erection in his trousers!

English is my second language, My first language is love. Neuroscience is my second sense, My first sense is love. Theology is my second faith, My first faith is interfaith. Philosophy is my second nature, My first nature is to assimilate.

With a single glance from those mesmerizing eyes, my body starts to respond. He extends his hand and I reach out as if his touch is the only thing I need to survive. When he leads me to his bed and lowers me onto the soft sheets that match the blue green of his eyes, I realize that I am lost. Is this love, desire, lust, need? Yes, to all of the above. -B Buena

She was everything he loved about a woman wrapped up in a cute little package. Golden blonde hair was secured to the top of her head in a ponytail, he bet it would reach her waist when it was loose. Her body was curvy in all the right places, her breasts more than filled out the T-shirt she was wearing and those hips, dang he could just imagine holding onto them while she rode him, instead of Big Red.

Learning about freedom, for . . . the very essence of human existence, knowledge, as the mind is an element that enables us to shift the winds of luck, reshape the forces of fate or destiny, and, ultimately, empower us to become free authors of our own lives, for the true art of human expression is the ability to express our dreams, thoughts, and emotions as we feel them or as they come to mind, as we search for universal equality, justice, peace, love, truth, and reality.

But the blessing came with its price. Being bilingual, being multicultural should have brought two worlds into one heart, and yet for Suzy, it meant a persistent hollowness. It seems that she needed to love one culture to be able to love the other. Piling up cultural references led to no further identification. What Damian had called a “blessing” pushed her out of context, always. She was stuck in a vacuum where neither culture moved nor owned her. Deep inside, she felt no connection, which Damian seemed to have understood.

Sonnet of Languages Turkish is the language of love, Spanish is the language of revolution. Swedish is the language of resilience, English is the language of translation. Portuguese is the language of adventure, German is the language of discipline. French is the language of passion, Italian is the language of cuisine. With over 7000 languages in the world, Handful of tongues fall short in a sonnet. But you can rest assured of one thing, Every language does something the very best. Each language is profoundly unique in its own way. When they come together, they light the human way.

Europe in the days of Columbus, Copernicus and Newton had the highest concentration of religious fanatics in the world, and the lowest level of tolerance. The luminaries of the Scientific Revolution lived in a society that expelled Jews and Muslims, burned heretics wholesale, saw a witch in every cat-loving elderly lady and started a new religious war every full moon. If you travelled to Cairo or Istanbul around 1600, you would find there a multicultural and tolerant metropolis, where Sunnis, Shiites, Orthodox Christians, Catholics, Armenians, Copts, Jews and even the occasional Hindu lived side by side in relative harmony. Though they had their share of disagreements and riots, and though the Ottoman Empire routinely discriminated against people on religious grounds, it was a liberal paradise compared with Europe.

We can choose to try to persuade people who are repeating demagogic talking points while choosing not to get into arguments with them. Demagoguery about 'them' is undone by empathy. Generalizations about 'them' are complicated, and sometimes shattered, by experiences with individual members of 'them,' or even humanizing stories. Tell those stories, mention those friends, talk about those experiences, and just refuse to argue. Invite your interlocutor to meet 'them,' point out the individuals who don't fit the stereotype, and, if you are a member of their out-group, then resist your interlocutor's desire to treat you as an exception. Many of the people who explain how they came to reject demagoguery about some out-group say they were changed when they got to know (and love) people in that group, or when they discovered that people whom they had long loved were members of the out-group. Just bear witness to the glory of diversity and pluralism.

We often associate science with the values of secularism and tolerance. If so, early modern Europe is the last place you would have expected a scientific revolution. Europe in the days of Columbus, Copernicus and Newton had the highest concentration of religious fanatics in the world, and the lowest level of tolerance. The luminaries of the Scientific Revolution lived in a society that expelled Jews and Muslims, burned heretics wholesale, saw a witch in every cat-loving elderly lady and started a new religious war every full moon. If you had travelled to Cairo or Istanbul around 1600, you would find there a multicultural and tolerant metropolis, where Sunnis, Shiites, Orthodox Christians, Catholics, Armenians, Copts, Jews and even the occasional Hindu lived side by side in relative harmony. Though they had their share of disagreements and riots, and though the Ottoman Empire routinely discriminated against people on religious grounds, it was a liberal paradise compared with Europe. If you had then sailed on to contemporary Paris or London, you would have found cities awash with religious extremism, in which only those belonging to the dominant sect could live. In London they killed Catholics, in Paris they killed Protestants, the Jews had long been driven out, and nobody in his right mind would dream of letting any Muslims in. And yet, the Scientific Revolution began in London and Paris rather than in Cairo and Istanbul.

She always thought of Aaron as special not less. He was God’s gift to her, and she wouldn’t trade him for the world.

The hand at her back stroked up and down. Never straying too far south, but igniting a fire inside her that she wanted this fireman to stoke instead of extinguish

A Tootsie Roll? You do know that candy is neither chocolate nor a taffy. I do like that it also comes in a lollipop you put in your mouth and suck until you find the chewy center.

You’re a smart woman, and I’m a romantic man who believes in an arrow-shooting Cupid, Santeria love spells, and pixie dust of protection and enchantment.

What I want, however, is for you to cast off the shackles of the past and step into the future with me as an emancipated woman.

Anal is such a judgmental word. Unless, of course, you’re talking about sex then it’s the best word in the world. By the way, whenever you want to take our relationship to the next level, I’m all in.

In high school, I developed a new love: acting. I went to a predominantly black and Latino school in Compton and, outside of television, this was my first true immersion in black culture. I had an inspiring drama teacher, a Jewish man who found the most amazing, hidden plays of color. There was On Striver’s Row, a play about an upper-middle-class black family in Harlem. Maricela de la Luz Lights the World, a fanciful and mystical Latino drama by José Rivera. And so much more. Every year for four years I was introduced to new diverse works, all while working with a multicultural cast. I only wish Hollywood could take a lesson from Compton. The

If your neighbor's lawn looks better than yours, don't let jealousy consume you ..... start working on yours. With love and dedication, your side will look better than their.

Parents and schools are teaching children how not to think, but how to be good little groupthinkers and people of faith, how to be liberal, multicultural, and politically correct. The idea of quality, excellence, glory, is anathema. It’s the love that dare not speak its name. The exceptional make the mediocre feel bad about themselves, so the mediocre use their force of numbers to demonize the exceptional. The mediocre cannot and will not be made to feel inadequate. Instead of making themselves adequate – God forbid! – they kill the exceptional and then no one notices their inadequacy. Hallelujah! Job done. Amen, Namaste, Brother!

If you are a follower of PBS Newshour and enjoy its special features about people and places that make the multiracial, multicultural United States such a vibrant, diverse, and complex nation, you will want to read Michael Saltz’s The Winding Road: My Journey Through Life and the McNeil/Lehrer Newshour. Not only will you learn an insider’s history of the evolving PBS Newhour programming, but you will learn about the role of producers, writers, photographers, and tech people, most of whom are never mentioned or credited on the nightly program. This is a fascinating personal history written by an incredibly versatile former senior producer on the show. The book chronicles his work as well as his love of music, the arts, and the people who inhabit this country.

Pastor, when those White police officers were terrorizing me, I saw them as less than human. I saw them as maggots. If I’d had a nuclear grenade, I would have detonated it and killed them and me. They filled me with hate.” But he told me, “Then I realized I was a bigot too. But I knew as a Christian, I cannot hate these men. I must love. I want to preach a gospel strong enough to heal this madness and hatred.”[2] JP writes, For too long, many in the Church have argued that unity in the body of Christ across ethnic and class lines is a separate issue from the gospel. There has been the suggestion that we can be reconciled to God without being reconciled to our brothers and sisters in Christ. Scripture doesn’t bear that out. . . . It’s going to take intentionally multiethnic and multicultural churches to bust through the chaos and confusion of the present moment and redirect our gaze to the revolutionary gospel of reconciliation.[3]

Dar Mano, Ser Humano (The Sonnet) Kafir Biraz, peygamber biraz! İyi insan olmak için ikisi de lazım. Kısmet to some, kıyamet to some! That's how we come to life beyond all ism. Diablo para algunos, santo para algunos. It's all our mess, so las respuestas somos. Fairytales work best when vegetables sleep. Pero te digo hoy - dar mano, ser humanos. Infidel to some, gospel to some! That's the cross a reformer got to bear. The Nazarene already did his bit for the world. It's time for new humanitarians to give a shoulder. We are the message, we are the messenger. Kabhi hum kafir, kabhi peygamber.

Love Before Language (Sonnet 1227) أعظم الحقيقة هي الحب ، أعظم قانون هو الحب. أعظم إيمان هو الحب ، أعظم وجود هو الحب. प्रेमसत्यं ब्रह्मसत्यम्। प्रेम विना अस्तित्वं नास्ति।। प्रेमदर्शनं ब्रह्मदर्शनम्। प्रेम विना ब्रह्माण्डं नास्ति।। Love happens regardless of facts, Facts happen regardless of love. When love and facts come together, Magic happens in our veins and nerve. Love before language, Heart before heritage. To unify this broken world, I once took the divine pledge.

All through history every culture on earth has produced its distinct literature - American literature, British literature, Latino Literature, Arabic literature, Turkish literature, European literature, Bengali literature and so on. I am none of these, because I am all of these - Naskar is the amalgamation of all of world's cultures. Naskar is the first epitome of integrated Earth literature - where there is no inferior, no superior - no greater, no lesser. Soulfulness of Rumiland, heartfulness of Martíland, correctiveness of MLKland, sweetness of Tagoreland - merge them all in the fire of love, and lo emerges Naskarland - merge them all in the fire of love, and lo emerges lightland.

From Karbala to Kurukshetra, from Jerusalem to Chanakkale, light of truth has never submitted to the howling audacity of divisive animality - then why should you? Remember, there is a karbala in each of you, there is a kurukshetra in each of you, there is a jerusalem and chanakkale in each of you. And till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason. So, get up - get out - and get lost! Wanna lead the world? First learn about the world - get so lost in the struggles of each and every people of planet earth, that you forget where you came from altogether - get so lost in the struggles of the people of earth, that for the first time in life you start to breathe as a whole human being - get so lost, that for the first time you see the light of dawn not as a puny slave to puny borders, but as the civilized maker of a civilized world.

Shall Meet You There (Sonnet 1319) Beyond tongue and tradition, Beyond king and nation, Beyond ignorance and intolerance, Beyond cowardice and castration, Beyond fear and fanaticism, Beyond rigidity and recklessness, Beyond the desert of dead habit, Beyond the logical heartlessness, Beyond the guise of practicality, Beyond the price of convenience, Beyond the lies of selfish order, Beyond the highs of whims and wishes, There's a valley of love and laughter. Come someday, I shall meet you there.

I don't need to write in all these languages of the world - those who care, will find a way. I write in more than one language because I want to. I want to leave at least something extremely personal for every culture in the world - that is, for as many cultures as I humanly can. However in the end, the universal spirit of love, light and oneness transcends language and culture, and finds a home in the heart of every conscientious human being - and that's what counts. It's the bridge that counts, not the shape it comes in.

Love is our nationality, not land. Compassion is our religion, not creed. Conscience is our byword, not constitution. Heil Hitler, God save the king, Vande Mataram, Patria o Muerte - it's all the same - a declaration of tribal glory, with no concern for the rest of humanity. Such archaic attitude suits a bronze-age society, not a civilized one. It's time for Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam (world is family), not Vande Mataram (hail the motherland) - it's time for Mundo y Vida (world and life), not Patria o Muerte (homeland or death) - it's time for Humans save Humanity, not God save the king.

Unfortunately, the fears of economic loss and of personal violence can blind people to what their Catholic faith calls them to do—dwell together in love. These fears have to be honestly addressed if we are to live in a genuinely multi-racial and multi-cultural society.

Where cross-cultural engagement is concerned, token adjustments are no longer an option. To advance a credible message of God’s love for all people in an increasingly diverse society, we must move ourselves entirely as well as the churches we lead. We must adjust to a new reality.

Confronting issues of racial and economic prejudice is part of missions work, the work of the church. Left without a Christian response, advocates for the poor or minorities must turn to political means for relief. Unfortunately, they must rely on a rights-based approach rather than a biblical love-based approach. Without the church leading the way, secular agendas of multiculturalism, diversity, tolerance, and racial reconciliation provide only a humanistic, man-centered solution.

Witness. The moralist believes in proselytizing, because “we are right, and they are wrong.” Such an approach is almost always offensive. The relativist/pragmatist approach denies the legitimacy of evangelism altogether. Yet the gospel produces a constellation of traits in us. We are compelled to share the gospel out of generosity and love, not guilt. We are freed from the fear of being ridiculed or hurt by others, since we have already received the favor of God by grace. Our dealings with others reflect humility because we know we are saved only by grace alone, not because of our superior insight or character. We are hopeful about everyone, even the “hard cases,” because we were saved only because of grace, not because we were people likely to become Christians. We are courteous and careful with people. We don’t have to push or coerce them, for it is only God’s grace that opens hearts, not our eloquence or persistence or even their openness (Exod 4:10–12). Together, these traits create not only an excellent neighbor in a multicultural society but also a winsome evangelist.

about your writing: Am I okay with…? Swearing or using foul language? Portraying casual sex? Writing intimate love scenes? Featuring nontraditional sexual fetishes or activities? Writing about infidelity? Writing about murder or suicide? Portraying violence? Describing gory scenes? Portraying abuse or other trauma-inducing situations? Discussing politics or controversial issues? Including or excluding religion or spirituality? Featuring a multicultural cast of characters? Bleak or hopeless endings? Always having to write happily-ever-afters? Restricting your vocabulary for your audience’s age level? Now go through these questions again, this time bearing your target reader in mind. Do your answers match? If not, how do they differ? Are you willing to make exceptions to

Amor Armada (The Sonnet) I don't do drugs, languages are my LSD. Half-lovers crave escape, I crave absolute unity. Music is my MDMA, Cultures, my cocaine. Languages are my LSD, People are my heaven. Those drunk on love, language and culture, need no artificial stimulant. Only the half-lovers and the half-dead, chase booze, drugs and institutions. I'm drunk with the spirit of sacrifice, You can keep your puny bottled charisma. In a world of broken glass and cigarette buds, I am Amor Armada.

Those drunk on love, language and culture, need no artificial stimulant. Only the half-lovers and the half-dead, chase booze, drugs and institutions.

With a single glance from those mesmerizing eyes, my body start to respond. He extends his hand and I reach out as if his touch is the only thing I need to survive. When he leads me to his bed and lowers me onto the soft sheets that match the blue green of his eyes, I realize that I am lost. Is this love, desire, lust, need? Yes, to all of the above -B Buena

Existence here is an art of love, at our planet on the cosmic prairie. New Earth is a celebration of life, not a validation of ruinous rigidity.

Little Planet on The Prairie (New Earth Anthem) New Earth is an art of love, not a stain of hateful ignorance. New Earth is a land of promise, not of greed and indifference. New Earth is a blank canvas, we gotta decide what we paint - masterpiece of an inclusive dawn, or a bloody reminder of apish days. New Earth is a better Earth, we no longer thirst after blood. We toil together without divide, to be a gentle beacon in the cosmos. Hijab, habit, turban, all are equal, It's bigotry that is unacceptable. On our New Earth character is supreme, primitive traditions are expendable. Existence here is an art of love, at our planet on the cosmic prairie. New Earth is a celebration of life, not a validation of ruinous rigidity.

Miracle Mejnu (The Sonnet) I reveal policy to politicians, I write the law for lawyers, I unfold order to the coppers, I light the psyche to shrinkers. I am justice to the activists, Common sense to the scientists, I'm illumination to philosophers, I am existence to existentialists. I am poetry to the poets, Bridge of culture to linguists. I am good news in seminaries, I am the human part of humanists. Who am I - or better yet, what am I? I am the heartquake to all halftruth. What am I, or just the same, who am I? Refugee of love, I am Miracle Mejnu.

Naskar, The Journey (Sonnet 1540) The journey began with Art of Neuroscience, I was the rookie scholar in the block. Amateurish intellectualism was quite evident, till my voice took charge in the 11th work. Finally yours truly was speaking on his own, without leaning on those who came before. Riding on a whim, along came sonnets, Prose and poetry fused in Naskarean ore. Thus original Naskar started pouring out, as Hurricane Human, Hometown Human 'n more, Martyr Meets World to Mücadele Muhabbet, all as bedrock of assimilation galore. The journey that began with science, soon turned into a humanitarian tsunami. Rooted in love, tempered by reason - I'm the furnace of peace, piety 'n poetry.

Life Love Liberty, Sonnet 1548 (Hayat Habib Huriyat) My divinity is not rooted in god or scripture, my divinity is rooted in human welfare. My science is not rooted in cold logic venture, my science is rooted in human welfare. My philosophy is not rooted in intellectual gymnastics, my philosophy is rooted in uprooting prejudice. My Life is rooted in Love and Liberty. Hayat Habib Huriyat, that's my identity.

Even after speaking six languages, I say, the supreme language is love.

The journey that began with science, soon turned into a humanitarian tsunami. Rooted in love, tempered by reason - I'm the furnace of peace, piety 'n poetry.

Who am I - or better yet, what am I? I am the heartquake to all halftruth. What am I, or just the same, who am I? Refugee of love, I am Miracle Mejnu.

Plenticultural (Sonnet 1434) When I get mad, I revert to English, because English is my first language. When I feel romantic, I revert to Turkish, because Turkish is my love language. When I feel passionate, I revert to Spanish, because Spanish is my passion language. When I feel electric, I revert to Telugu, because Telugu is my power language. When nothing works, I revert to Korean, because Korean is my backup language. And you wonder why I never run empty, why the natural spring is ever abundant! Language is the gateway to culture, Culture is the gateway to life. I am no person who speaks many tongues, I am the proof of plenticultural life.

No Slave to Culture (The Sonnet) What do you take me for - a street dog! Slave to one religion, one nation, one culture! Dinosaur here - wherever I lay my eyes, Becomes my nation, my religion, my culture! To add nationality to my name is to vilify my name, Sectarianism and nonsectarianism don't go together. To add exclusive ethnicity to my work is a violation, Barbarism can't define the spirit of a human sonneteer. Days of single nationality, single religion are gone, It's the age of universal nationality and religion. In this civilized age, human nationality is humanity, Human religion and culture are love and compassion. Exclusive ethnicity is a sign of a backward society. Expand across the one imposed, and there'll be harmony.

Mental Piece (The Sonnet) In the west you call me humanitarian scientist, Somewhere in the middle you call me pragmatist. In the middle-east you call me sufi or dervish, In the east you call me advaitin or nondualist. No matter how you see me, you all are my own, Each of you is family, each of you is my home. Then there are those who ardently call me fraud, Which also is a sign of love, but yet unknown. I am not a person, prison or path, for I am vicdan, I'm saadet, my friend, I am the spirit of unification. Call the sun as you like, it still brightens the world, In the domain of realization, to label is desecration. All labels are equally right yet equally incomplete. In a world full of showpiece I am but a mental piece.

If I Must Die (The Sonnet) I have no desire to die as just, Another writer like that bard fella. If I must die as a writer, I will die as, The first multi-cultural writer en historia. I have no desire to die as just, Another founder of a sect or nation. If I must die as something, I'll die as, One of the founders of human unification. I have no desire to die as just another, Coldhearted scientist or pompous philosopher. If I must die as a scientist and philosopher, I'll die as the one who made love truth's driver. But above all that, I have no desire to die, period. Cowards die, whereas I, am already martyred.

The loss of political power by what the Census Bureau calls "non-Hispanic Whites" as they dwindle from a majority to a minority is only the most apparent such change, and it is hardly unreasonable to expect that what will follow from the transfer of power will be the outright dispossession and political and legal persecution of the white minority by a non-white and non-Western majority that has little experience of constitutional government, little respect for the rights of minorities and oppositional groups, and little love for whites or the West. Indeed, we already see the beginnings of that dispossession in affirmative action programs, hate crime laws, multiculturalist curricula, calculated insults to and vituperation of whites, and the proliferation of racially motivated atrocities against them.

Given White supremacy’s intentions to disempower African American people by miseducating us, we do not have the privilege to approach our students with the objectiveness many teachers and curricula endorse. Our students

You may give them your love, but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of to-morrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams

No, Massa Johnny. Slaves ain’t s’posed to read and write.' 'How are you a slave if you’re here eating my almonds and giggling?' Johnny watched her go, his heart swelling with more affection than he had ever felt for any other human being.

Hometown Human Sonnet Everybody loves Rumi, I learnt his tongue, So I could pick up where he left off. Better than basking in borrowed light, Is to be an original light to the world. Everybody yells, viva la libertad, I learnt el idioma, so I could humanize the paradigm of revolution. Everybody loves Indus valley diversity, Annitiki munde anni shaashtralu nerchkunnanu, So I'm never out of spice for my humanitarianism. Everybody loves boasting about their culture, I spent years making all the cultures my own. Thus my strength was amplified a thousand folds, My sight expanded beyond all norms of vision known. Polyglots have more fun - there is no question. When science, poetry and polyglottery come together, That's the beginning of a paradigm bending revolution.

Naskar is made by Naskar alone, not an industry or benefactor - or more importantly, by family wealth. I had a roof over my head, food on the table, and clothes on my back - that was more than enough. I started writing with literally zero dollar in my pocket. Let me tell you how it began, because for some reason, I completely forgot a crucial event of my life when I wrote my memoir Love, God & Neurons. I once met an American tourist at a local train in Calcutta. The first thing he asked me was, had I lived in the States? I said, no. Then how come you have an American accent - he asked. Watching movies - I said. We got chatting and he told me about a book he had recently published, a memoir. I believe, this was the cosmic event that planted the thought of writing my own books in my head - I had already started my self-education in Neurology and Psychology, and I was all determined to publish research papers on my ideas, but not books. Meeting the person somehow subconsciously shifted my focus from research papers to books. So the journey began. And for the first few years, I made no real money from my books. Occasionally some of my books would climb the bestsellers list on amazon, like my very first book did, and that would keep the bills paid for several months. Then the invitations for talks started coming, but they too were not paid in the beginning. The organizers made all the travel arrangements, and I gave the talks for free. It's ironic and super confusing really - I remember flying business class, but I didn't have enough money to even afford a one way flight ticket, because I had already used up my royalties on other expenses. Today I can pick and choose which speaking invitations to accept, but back then I didn't have that luxury - I was grateful for any speaking gig and interview request I received, paid or not. One time, I gave an interview to this moderately popular journalist for her personal youtube channel, only to find out, she never released the video publicly - she posted an interview with a dog owner instead - whose dog videos had gained quite a following on social media. You could say, this was the first time I realized first hand, what white privilege was. Anyway, the point is this. Did I doubt myself? Often. Did I consider quitting? Occasionally. But did I actually quit? Never. And because I didn't quit, the world received a vast never-before seen multicultural humanitarian legacy, that you know me for today. There is no such thing as overnight success. If you have a dream, you gotta work at it day in, day out - night after night - spoiling sleep, ruining rest, forgetting fun. Persist, persist, and persist, that's the only secret - there is no other. Remember this - the size of your pocket does not determine your destiny, the size of your dedication does.

Iman Insaniyat, Mazhab Muhabbat (Pani, Agua, Water Sonnet) In some circles, I am called a genius, Yet the only genius I know of is service. In other circles, I am branded fraud, Yet the only fraud I know of is prejudice. Saying, you've explored my work, after spending an evening scrolling through a few quotes, is like saying, you've climbed Mount Everest, after spending an evening scrolling through pictures of the Himalayas. Yet I can tell you who I am, I don't need a million lines but one. Iman insaniyat, mazhab muhabbat*; Pani, agua, water, it's all one. Take my Bible, Koran & Vedas, Take my Origin of Species. Throw me to the fires of hell, My life will still smell of roses. (*faith humanity, religion love)

All said and done, in our headstrong struggle for inclusion, we mustn't also underestimate everything we have achieved so far as a species. As a matter of fact, we've come a long way since our tribal days of division and discrimination. Let me show you how. World's most beloved poet, Mevlana Rumi, was a muslim - world's icon of civil rights, MLK, was a black person - world's greatest inspiration of science, Albert Einstein, was a German Jew - and most recently, as of 2023, PM of UK and VP of US, both are of Indian origin. So don't tell me, we've achieved nothing - don't tell me, there is no hope for integration! Integration is happening all over the world, despite the ancient impediments of intolerance and hate. Therefore, the question is not whether integration is possible - real question is, are you a part of that integration, or aren't you! Our home is planet earth - and here on earth, we all cry the same pain, smile the same joy, and live the same love.

World Integration Day (9th October Sonnet) When I am gone, Celebrate not October 9th, as the day Naskar was born. Celebrate it if you so desire, as the World Day of Integration. Tie a bracelet of assimilation, amongst buddies across culture. Pledge to have each other's back, even if deemed tradition's traitor. Mark you, one day is not enough, to live as an integration advocate. But the journey of a million miles, must begin with one bold step. Live each day of your life, as proof of love and oneness. Cause inclusion defying prejudice, You are the cure for divisiveness.

Sonnet 1152 In Korea, I am Ingan - In Turkiye, I am Insan. In Latam, Soy Humano - In North America, I'm Human. In hindi, I am Khichdi*, A *hodge-podge of cultures, Few have the mind to stomach, while tribals feel perturbed. Life is love, love is life - all other existence is null and void. World is love, love is the world - all other paradigm is poison voyage.

Here on earth, we all cry the same pain, smile the same joy, and live the same love.

English is my work language, Turkish is my love language, Spanish is my play language, Telugu is my leisure language. This would probably be different for you - perhaps for you, it all happens in one language - English, and that's perfectly fine. Different people are inspired in different ways - it's alright - as long as all our inspirations converge into one result - a better world for all - where there is no interracial dialogue, there is no intercultural communication, there is no interreligious relations - because - there is but one race, humanity - there is but one culture, humanity - there is but one religion, humanity.

I use English when understanding is needed, I use Turkish when I wanna remain unheard. Some languages are vessels for the head, Some tongues are born to bear the heart.

First Language (The Sonnet) English is my second language, My first language is love. Neuroscience is my second sense, My first sense is love. Theology is my second faith, My first faith is interfaith. Philosophy is my second nature, My first nature is to assimilate. Analog is my second passion, My first passion is dialogue. Law is my second task, my first, Is taking beings out of the bog. All labels are second labels, Our native label is human. All tradition is second tradition, Earth's native tradition is compassion.

So far, heritage has only caused a mess. You know why? Because it is never about just heritage - all talk of heritage inadvertently leads us to the savage dilemma of "our heritage versus their heritage". And such dilemma might have been acceptable in a savage society, but it is totally and utterly out of place in a civilized world. So, either the very construct of heritage evolves, or becomes an impediment to the expansion, hence the welfare, of the world as well as the self. That is why I say - just because you are born and raised in a particular culture, it doesn't mean, you are supposed to stay chained to that culture all your life, with blinkers on your eyes, that keep you ignorant of the beauty beyond the horizon. Let me put this into perspective with an unambiguous example. Some of you have asked me, what's my relation to Turkey? Well, everybody loves Rumi, but I learnt his tongue, so I could pick up where he left off. Some of you have asked me, what's my relation to Latin America? Well, everybody loves to yell "viva la libertad", but I learnt el idioma, so I could revolutionize the very paradigm of revolution. Every corner of earth has some distinct strongholds, and I am the force that brings them together to create a strong, sapient, and undivided planet.

English is my second language, My first language is love. Neuroscience is my second sense, My first sense is love. Theology is my second faith, My first faith is interfaith. Philosophy is my second nature, My first nature is to assimilate. All labels are second labels, Our native label is human. All tradition is second tradition, Earth's native tradition is compassion.

Get Well Soon (The Sonnet) Upon absorbing all cultures into my blood, I realize, the supreme culture is love. Upon studying all scriptures as my own, I realize, the supreme gospel is love. Even after speaking six languages, I say, the supreme language is love. Upon observing all political ideologies, I say, only ideal worth submission is love. Unfolding the neural underpinnings of behavior, I realize, seed of civilization is love. Unraveling the cellular mysteries of life, I realize, existence oughta be a record of love. Tiny-brained know-it-alls will still yell, their culture beats all, like some tipsy loon. To which all I can say is - get well soon!

My life doesn't taste right unless I'm tasting you with it. I love you, Brielle.

Love is a multicultural language with so many faces & rituals. Not everyone loves the same way and I think that's beautiful. Love isn't happiness. It is an action, a choice. Love isn't attachment, love is looking at your mortality and saying "thank you" for the moments it broke, bent, and birthed you. Love is the experience of all emotions and making the choice to move forward with them. Love is you talking to your anxiety when it weighs heavy on your chest and listening to what it has to say until it is quiet. It is the discomfort before the peace the smile across your cheek when your favorite movie is on TV. It is being able to breathe even when you're alone out in the street. Love is you & it is me.

From bell hooks: When we love the earth, we are able to love ourselves more fully. I believe this. the ancestors taught me it was so. as a child, I loved playing in dirt, in that rick Kentucky soil, that was a source of life. before I understood anything about the pain and exploitation of the southern system of sharecropping, I understood that grown-up black folks loved the land… from the moment of their first meeting, Native American and African people shared with one another a respect for the life-giving forces of nature, of the earth. African settlers in Florida taught the Seminoles methods for rice cultivation. Native people taught recently arrived black folks about the many uses of corn. Sharing the reverence for the earth, they helped one another remember that, despite the white man’s ways, the land belonged to everyone. Estrangement from nature and engagement in mind/body splits made it all the more possible for black people to internalize white-supremacist assumptions about black identity…if we can think of urban life as a location where black folks learned to accept the mind/body split that made it possible to abuse the body, we can better understand the growth of nihilism and despair in the black psyche.

From Alice Walker: I think I am telling you that the animals of the planet are in desperate peril and that they are fully aware of this. No less than human beings are doing in all parts of the world, they are seeking sanctuary. But I am also telling you that we are connected to them as least as intimately as we are connected to trees. Without plant life human beings could not breathe. Plants produce oxygen. Without free animal life, I believe we will lose the spiritual equivalent of oxygen. “Magic,” intuition, sheer astonishment at the forms the Universe devises in which to express life-itself- will no longer be able to breathe in us. One day it occurred to me that if all the birds died, as they might well do, eventually, from the poisonings of their air, water, and food, it would be next to impossible to describe to our children the wonder of their flight. But what I am also sharing with you is this thought- the Universe responds. What you ask of it, it gives. I realize now that I did not understand prayer; which I know now to be the active affirmation in the physical world do our inseparableness from the divine; and everything, especially the physical world, is divine. War will stop when we no longer praise it, or give it any attention at all. Peace will come where it is sincerely invited. Love will overflow every sanctuary given it. Truth will grow where the fertilizer that nourishes it is also truth…Knock and the door shall be opened. Ask and you shall receive. Whatsoever you do to the least of these, you do also unto me- and to yourself. For we are one. “God” answers prayers. Which is another way of saying, “the Universe responds.” We are indeed the world. Only if we have reason to fear what is in our own hearts need we fear for the planet. Teach yourself peace. Pass it on.

From Scott Russell Sanders: Since birth, my children have been surrounded by images of the earth as viewed from space, images that I first encountered when I was in my twenties. Those photographs show vividly what in our sanest moments we have always know- that the earth is a closed circle, lovely and rare. That is one pole of my awareness; but the other pole is what I see through my window. I try to keep both in sight at once. I find a kindred lesson in the words of Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh: “This spot where you sit is your own spot. It is this very spot and in this very moment that you can become enlightened. You don’t have to sit beneath a special tree in a distant land.” There are no privileged locations. If you stay put, your place may become a holy center, not because it gives you special access to the divine, but because in your stillness you hear what might be heard anywhere. All there is to see can be seen from anywhere in the universe, if you know how to look; and the influence of the universe converges on every spot.

From Gary Snyder: I heard a Crow elder say: “You know, I think if people stay somewhere long enough-even white people- the spirits will begin to speak to them. It’s the power of the spirits coming up from the land.” Bioregional awareness teaches us in specific ways. It is not enough just to “love nature” or want to be “in harmony with Gaia.” Our relation to the natural world takes place in a place, and it must be grounded in information and experience. This is so unexceptional a kind of knowledge that everyone in Europe, Asia and Africa used to take for granted… Knowing a bit about the flora we could enjoy questions like: where do Alaska and Mexico meet? It would be somewhere on the north coast of California, where Canada Jay and Sitka Spruce lace together with manzanita and Blue Oak. But instead of northern California, let’s call it “Shasta Bioregion.” The present state of California (the old Alta California territory) falls into at least three natural divisions, and the northern third looks, as the Douglas Fir example, well to the north. East of the watershed divide to the west near Sacramento, is the Great Basin, north of Shasta is the Cascadia/Colombia region, and then farther north is what we call Ish River country, the drainages of Puget Sound. Why should we do this kind of visualization? It prepares us to begin to be at home in this landscape. There are tens of millions of people in North America who were physically born here but who are not actually living here intellectually, imaginatively, or morally. Native Americans to be sure have a prior claim to the term native. But as they love this land, they will welcome the conversion of the millions of immigrant psyches into “native americans.” For the non-Native Americans to become at home on this continent, he or she must be born again in this hemisphere, on this continent, properly called Turtle Island.

From Alan Thein Durning: The extreme disruption of ecosystems will end. The question is whether people will end it voluntarily and creatively, or whether nature will end it for them, savagely and catastrophically... Humanity’s failure to act in defense of the Earth is conventionally explained as a problem of knowledge: not enough people yet understand the dangers or know what to do about them. An alternative explanation is that this failure reflects a fundamental problem of motivation. People know enough, but they don’t care enough. They do not care enough because they do not identify themselves with the world as a whole. The Earth is such a big place that it might as well be no place at all. If places motivate but the planet does not, a curious paradox emerges. The wrenching global problems that the world’s leading thinkers so earnestly warn about- crises such as deforestation, hunger, population growth, climate change, loss of cultural and biological diversity- may submit to solutions only obliquely. The only cures possible may be local and motivated by a sentiment- the love of home- that global thinkers often regarded as divisive and or provincial. Thus, it may be possible to diagnose problems globally, but impossible to solve them globally. There may not be any ways to save to world that are not, first and foremost, ways for people to say their own places. Here is the hope: that this generation becomes the next wave of natives, first in this place on Earth and then in others. This newfound permanence allows the quiet murmur of localities to become audible again. And that not long thereafter, perhaps very soon, the places of this Earth will be healed and whole again. ...AJ Auden said, “We have spent thee past 250 years in restless movement, recklessly skimming off the cream of superabundant resources, but we have not used the land in the true sense of the word, not have we done ourselves much permanent good. It’s high times that we settled down, not for a hundred years, but for a thousand, forever.

He kept her shielded but didn't clip her wings.

I wish you would read me like you read your books every day.

Capitalism needs an enemy. If a real one doesn’t exist, it simply creates one … “Marxism.” Since there is no political and economic Marxism in America, the American right have invented cultural Marxism to perform the role of ultimate “other”, the thing to be hated, feared and resisted. What they call cultural Marxism is in fact what sane people call liberal cultural capitalism, i.e. the culture associated with liberal capitalists rather than conservative capitalists. Of course, in the demented minds of the far right, liberalism is Marxism, which is why Barack Obama was routinely branded a Marxist by the far right, despite never espousing a Marxist sentiment in his entire life. Liberal views, multiculturalism, and political correctness are not Marxist. They are liberal. Why would anyone call them Marxist except to demonize them? No honest person would ever refer to them as anything other than liberal, but since when have the American far right ever been honest? Their game is always the same: to generate maximum hatred of anything that is not conservative, libertarian, Confederate, racist, white Supremacist, and Nazi. Marxism is quintessentially about class struggle, about the workers versus the owners, and the aim of producing a classless society where the people are fully in charge of their own lives, and are never the slaves of the masters. Liberalism, by contrast, does not focus on class struggle but on values, identities and “rights”, especially of minorities. Right wingers have confused liberal capitalism with Marxism. Of course, they have done this deliberately to demonize liberal capitalism in order to convert all capitalists to conservative capitalism. They only want to see conservative (right wing) capitalism, or libertarian (far right) capitalism. Everything else is to be routinely denounced as “Marxist.” It’s just the good old McCarthyite tactic – tried and tested over the decades – that right wingers love so much.