World Humanitarian Day Quotes

Creation and destruction are one, to the eyes who can see beauty. And the greatest praise to India is this: not only are her people beautiful; not only are her daily life and cult beautiful; but, in the midst of the utilitarian, humanitarian, dogmatic world of the present day, she keeps on proclaiming the outstanding value of Beauty for the sake of Beauty, through her very conception of Godhead, of religion and of life.

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

At times we feel outnumbered in our attempts to improve the world—to brighten and beautify, to preserve and heal and do what’s best for humanity. Selfless efforts can start to feel beleaguering, discouraging, even pointless with so little support. It is at these times I remind myself that I would rather be the last Good Samaritan standing than to join the ranks of selfish multitudes creating misery.

HUMANITARIANISM HOPE FOR HUMANITY

If we don't learn to break bread with each other, there'll come a day when none of us will have any bread to break.

This was all strictly run-of-the-mill Victorian patter, striking only for the fact that a man who had so exerted himself to see the world afresh had returned with such stock observations. (And, really, very little has changed; one need only lightly edit the foregoing passages - the crude caricatures, the question of human inferiority, and the bit about the baboon - to produce the sort of profile of misbegotten Africa that remains standard to this day in the American and European press, and in the appeals for charity donations put out by humanitarian aid organizations.)

The day the sun starts asking reward for the light and warmth it gives to the world, would be the last day of the sun's existence.

Success for me will be the day when all humans everywhere will stand up with a sense of unity and call themselves humans above everything else.

Day and night, night and day, This moment now, And every moment far away, Love each and love all, Save love there's no other way. Ain't enough to be born a human, To find life we gotta give our life away.

Sonnet of Human Duty To deliver humanity from inhumanity, Is the duty of every human. To deliver the innocent from injustice, Is the duty of every human. The indifferent may call it god complex, Apathetic pessimists may call it idealism. I call it the meaning of life and sanity, The opposite is just a sign of doofusism. Differences won't destroy the world, Indifference is far more ominous. The problem is not the evil doers, But the silent spectators. Mark me well, the day I stay silent is the day, Lady liberty throws her torch away.

Someone said to me the other day 'you should have some fun in life, instead of just working all the time'. I replied to the person 'you may have the luxury to have fun, but I can't even dream of having fun while my own humanity is tormented with countless forms of misery.

Corruption, it made plain, was not solely a humanitarian affair, an issue touching on principles or values alone. It was a matter of national security—Afghan national security and, by extension, that of the United States. And if corruption was driving people to violent revolt in Afghanistan, it was probably doing likewise in other places. Acute government corruption may in fact lie at the root of some of the world’s most dangerous and disruptive security challenges—among them the spread of violent extremism. That basic fact, elusive to this day, is what this book seeks to demonstrate.

This new situation, in which "humanity" has in effect assumed the role formerly ascribed to nature or history, would mean in this context that the right to have rights, or the right of every individual to belong to humanity, should be guaranteed by humanity itself. It is by no means certain whether this is possible. For, contrary to the best-intentioned humanitarian attempts to obtain new declarations of human rights from international organizations, it should be understood that this idea transcends the present sphere of international law which still operates in terms of reciprocal agreements and treaties between sovereign states; and, for the time being, a sphere that is above the nation does not exist. Furthermore, this dilemma would by no means be eliminated by the establishment of a "world government." Such a world government is indeed within the realm of possibility, but one may suspect that in reality it might differ considerably from the version promoted by idealistic-minded organizations. The crimes against human rights, which have become a specialty of totalitarian regimes, can always be justified by the pretext that right is equivalent to being good or useful for the whole in distinction to its parts. (Hitler's motto that "Right is what is good for the German people" is only the vulgarized form of a conception of law which can be found everywhere and which in practice will remain effectual only so long as older traditions that are still effective in the constitutions prevent this.) A conception of law which identifies what is right with the notion of what is good for—for the individual, or the family, or the people, or the largest number—becomes inevitable once the absolute and transcendent measurements of religion or the law of nature have lost their authority. And this predicament is by no means solved if the unit to which the "good for" applies is as large as mankind itself. For it is quite conceivable, and even within the realm of practical political possibilities, that one fine day a highly organized and mechanized humanity will conclude quite democratically—namely by majority decision—that for humanity as a whole it would be better to liquidate certain parts thereof.

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.

No one can doubt that this world will one day be the scene of dreadful struggles for existence on the part of mankind. In the end, only the instinct of self-preservation will triumph. This so-called humanitarianism-which connotes only a mixture of stupidity, cowardice, and self-conceit-will melt away like snow under a March sun. Man has become great through perpetual struggle. In perpetual peace, he must decline.

Kant’s ethic is important, because it is anti-utilitarian, a priori, and what is called “noble.” Kant says that if you are kind to your brother because you arc fond of him, you have no moral merit: an act only has moral merit when it is performed because the moral law enjoins it. Although pleasure is not the good, it is nevertheless unjust—so Kant maintains— that the virtuous should suffer. Since this often happens in this world, there must be another world where they are rewarded after death, and there must be a God to secure justice in the life hereafter. He rejects all the old metaphysical arguments for God and immortality, but considers his new ethical argument irrefutable. Kant himself was a man whose outlook on practical affairs was kindly and humanitarian, but the same cannot be said of most of those who rejected happiness as the good.

Wake up my friend - my would-be patriot of the planet and wake everyone else up. Be the alarm to the world, for it is almost mid-day in progress. The sooner the humans wake up, the more time they'll have to celebrate together their beautiful existence as an advanced species. And if they don't wake up and keep sleeping, then by the time they wake up, it'll be a billion times harder than now to even talk of harmony, let alone see that harmony in action.

Every year several million people are killed quite pointlessly by epidemics and other natural catastrophes. And we should shrink from sacrificing a few hundred thousand for the most promising experiment in history? Not to mention the legions of those who die of under-nourishment and tuberculosis in coal and quicksilver mines, rice-fields and cotton plantations. No one takes any notice of them; nobody asks why or what for; but if here we shoot a few thousand objectively harmful people, the humanitarians all over the world foam at the mouth. Yes, we liquidated the parasitic part of the peasantry and let it die of starvation. It was a surgical operation which had to be done once and for all; but in the good old days before the Revolution just as many died in any dry year—only senselessly and pointlessly. The victims of the Yellow River floods in China amount sometimes to hundreds of thousands. Nature is generous in her senseless experiments on mankind. Why should mankind not have the right to experiment on itself?

In this miasma of forgotten wars, torture and the war on terror, there are no easy answers, especially in the face of a very real terrorism. But I can live my questions. As a humanitarian, I can act from a feeling of shared vulnerability with the victims of preventable suffering. I have a responsibility to bear witness publicly to the plight of those I seek to assist and to insist on independent humanitarian action and respect for international humanitarian law. As a citizen, I can assume my responsibility for the public world - the world of politics - not as a spectator, but as a participant who engages and shapes it. The larger force that can push back against the wrong use of power can be the force of a citizen's politics that openly debates the right use of power and the reasoned pursuit of justice. Catherine Lu, a political philosopher and my friend, has described justice as a boundary over which we must not go, a bond of common humanity between us, a balance among people of equal worth and dignity. I fight not for a utopian ideal, but each day I make a choice, against nihilism and towards justice.

There was a time when members of a tribe were required to see benefits of their tribe of more significance than personal fulfilments, which ensured a bitter-sweet survival of that specific tribe over the survival of other tribes. But now that our tribal days are over, we stand at yet another crossroads in the history of human evolution - now we must make a choice, not as tribalistic ape-men but as conscientious human - we must make a choice whether our own country, our own religion, our own language, our own skin color, our own cultural heritage is more important to us than anything else, or are we going to finally let go of our instinctual tribalistic traits and be humans above all sectarian identities.

By these days it was a demerit to be muscular. Each infant was examined at birth, and all who promised undue strength were destroyed. Humanitarians may protest, but it would have been no true kindness to let an athlete live; he would never have been happy in that state of life to which the Machine had called him; he would have yearned for trees to climb, rivers to bathe in, meadows and hills against which he might measure his body. Man must be adapted to his surroundings, must he not? In the dawn of the world our weakly must be exposed on Mount Taygetus, in its twilight our strong will suffer euthanasia, that the Machine may progress, that the Machine may progress, that the Machine may progress eternally.

There are too many people working to better the lives of those who already have more than they need, yet those who are in need of real help spend each day with no hope or help to speak of - why my friend - why - they are waiting for you - they are wailing for you - don't you hear them - don't you hear their tears dropping on the lifeless soil beneath their feet! You worry about philosophical questions like, if a tree falls in a forest and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound - yet you pay no attention to real questions of life and death that actually require your intervention more than any philosophical question in the world! Why - I ask you again - why - why is it that philosophy, technology and argumentation have more grip over your psyche than the actual troubles of the people! Don't answer me - just think - think and when you have thought enough, shred all shallow philosophical pomp and rush right away to the helpless, the forgotten, the destitute as the real, practical answer to their life.

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 pacifist-humanitarian idea may indeed become an excellent one when the most superior type of manhood will have succeeded in subjugating the world to such an extent that this type is then sole master of the earth. This idea could have an injurious effect only in the measure in which its application became difficult and finally impossible. So, first of all, the fight, and then pacifism. If it were otherwise, it would mean that mankind has already passed the zenith of its development, and accordingly, the end would not be the supremacy of some moral ideal, but degeneration into barbarism and consequent chaos. People may laugh at this statement, but our planet moved through space for millions of years, uninhabited by men, and at some future date may easily begin to do so again, if men should forget that wherever they have reached a superior level of existence, it was not as a result of following the ideas of crazy visionaries but by acknowledging and rigorously observing the iron laws of Nature. What reduces one race to starvation stimulates another to harder work. All the great civilisations of the past became decadent because the originally creative race died out, as a result of contamination of the blood. The most profound cause of such a decline is to be found in the fact that the people ignored the principle that all culture depends on men, and not the reverse. In other words, in order to preserve a certain culture, the type of manhood that creates such a culture must be preserved, but such a preservation goes hand in hand with the inexorable law that it is the strongest and the best who must triumph and that they have the right to endure. He who would live must fight. He who does not wish to fight in this world, where permanent struggle is the law of life, has not the right to exist. Such a saying may sound hard, but, after all, that is how the matter really stands. Yet far harder is the lot of him who believes that he can overcome Nature, and thus in reality insults her. Distress, misery, and disease, are her rejoinders. Whoever ignores or despises the laws of race really deprives himself of the happiness to which he believes he can attain, for he places an obstacle in the victorious path of the superior race and, by so doing, he interferes with a prerequisite condition of, all human progress. Loaded with the burden of human sentiment, he falls back to the level of a helpless animal. It would be futile to attempt to discuss the question as to what race or races were the original champions of human culture and were thereby the real founders of all that we understand by the word ‘humanity.’ It is much simpler to deal with this question in so far as it relates to the present time. Here the answer is simple and clear. Every manifestation of human culture, every product of art, science and technical skill, which we see before our eyes to-day, is almost, exclusively the product of the Aryan creative power. All that we admire in the world to-day, its science and its art, its technical developments and discoveries, are the products of the creative activities of a few peoples, and it may be true that their first beginnings must be attributed to one race. The existence of civilisation is wholly dependent on such peoples. Should they perish, all that makes this earth beautiful will descend with them into the grave. He is the Prometheus of mankind, from whose shining brow the divine spark of genius has at all times flashed forth, always kindling anew that fire which, in the form of knowledge, illuminated the dark night by drawing aside the veil of mystery and thus showing man how to rise and become master over all the other beings on the earth. Should he be forced to disappear, a profound darkness will descend on the earth; within a few thousand years human culture will vanish and the world will become a desert.

A few years back, I had a long session with a psychiatrist who was conducting a study on post-traumatic stress disorder and its effects on reporters working in war zones. At one point, he asked me: “How many bodies have you seen in your lifetime?” Without thinking for too long, I replied: “I’m not sure exactly. I've seen quite a few mass graves in Africa and Bosnia, and I saw a well crammed full of corpses in East Timor, oh and then there was Rwanda and Goma...” After a short pause, he said to me calmly: “Do you think that's a normal response to that question?” He was right. It wasn't a normal response. Over the course of their lifetime, most people see the bodies of their parents, maybe their grandparents at a push. Nobody else would have responded to that question like I did. Apart from my fellow war reporters, of course. When I met Marco Lupis nearly twenty years ago, in September 1999, we were stood watching (fighting the natural urge to divert our gaze) as pale, maggot-ridden corpses, decomposed beyond recognition, were being dragged out of the well in East Timor. Naked bodies shorn of all dignity. When Marco wrote to ask me to write the foreword to this book and relive the experiences we shared together in Dili, I agreed without giving it a second thought because I understood that he too was struggling for normal responses. That he was hoping he would find some by writing this book. While reading it, I could see that Marco shares my obsession with understanding the world, my compulsion to recount the horrors I have seen and witnessed, and my need to overcome them and leave them behind. He wants to bring sense to the apparently senseless. Books like this are important. Books written by people who have done jobs like ours. It's not just about conveying - be it in the papers, on TV or on the radio - the atrocities committed by the very worst of humankind as they are happening; it’s about ensuring these atrocities are never forgotten. Because all too often, unforgivably, the people responsible go unpunished. And the thing they rely on most for their impunity is that, with the passing of time, people simply forget. There is a steady flow of information as we are bombarded every day with news of the latest massacre, terrorist attack or humanitarian crisis. The things that moved or outraged us yesterday are soon forgotten, washed away by today's tidal wave of fresh events. Instead they become a part of history, and as such should not be forgotten so quickly. When I read Marco's book, I discovered that the people who murdered our colleague Sander Thoenes in Dili, while he was simply doing his job like the rest of us, are still at large to this day. I read the thoughts and hopes of Ingrid Betancourt just twenty-four hours before she was abducted and taken to the depths of the Colombian jungle, where she would remain captive for six long years. I read that we know little or nothing about those responsible for the Cambodian genocide, whose millions of victims remain to this day without peace or justice. I learned these things because the written word cannot be destroyed. A written account of abuse, terror, violence or murder can be used to identify the perpetrators and bring them to justice, even though this can be an extremely drawn-out process during and after times of war. It still torments me, for example, that so many Bosnian women who were raped have never got justice and every day face the prospect of their assailants passing them on the street. But if I follow in Marco's footsteps and write down the things I have witnessed in a book, people will no longer be able to plead ignorance. That is why we need books like this one.

World Humanitarian Day - 2015 And millions of stars, they fell glittering like diamonds from the sky, that night, where philanthropy was born in the world.

of course, American torture still goes on: from the force-feeding of strapped-down captives in Gitmo to the psychological and physical terror Obama inflicts on thousands of innocent people every day as they watch the lizard-eyed drones hovering over them and wonder if this is the hour they’ll be ripped to shreds or burned alive to whatever the hell goes on in the secret cells our humanitarian leaders still keep in bases, basements and hidey holes all over the world.

You cannot simply waste money on the newest model of the iPhone, when countless homes across the world can't even afford electricity. You cannot simply have food fights in the name of fun, when countless people across the world don't even have two wholesome meals in a day. You cannot simply waste a ridiculous amount of money on fancy suits, dresses, wines, cars and mansions when our very own kind is suffering on a daily basis round the clock.

But do we also realize that this cheap grace has turned back upon us like a boomerang? The price we are having to pay to-day in the shape of the collapse of the organized Church is only the inevitable consequence of our policy of making grace available to all at too low a cost. We gave away the word and sacraments wholesale, we baptized, confirmed, and absolved a whole nation unasked and without condition. Our humanitarian sentiment made us give that which was holy to the scornful and unbelieving. We poured forth unending streams of grace. But the call to follow Jesus in the narrow way was hardly ever heard. Where were those truths which impelled the early Church to institute the catechumenate, which enabled a strict watch to be kept over the frontier between the Church and the world, and afforded adequate protection for costly grace? What had happened to all those warnings of Luther’s against preaching the gospel in such a manner as to make men rest secure in their ungodly living?

My mission is to flood the world with humanitarians by the thousands.

Centurion Sermon (Sonnet 1005) Peace is an act of ceasefire, Peace is an act of disarmament. If you don't get this simple fact, You need lessons on common sense. Beer is no bravery, Guns ain't no gallantry, Dump your bazookas in museum, Smell the roses with some coffee. Dump your scripture, pick up a sport, You'll learn a lot about honor and camaraderie. Dump your constitution, pick up gardening, You'll learn plenty about preserving life 'n liberty. Nationalism is the greatest threat to peace. Fundamentalism is the greatest threat to harmony.

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.

But do we also realize that this cheap grace has turned back upon us like a boomerang? The price we are having to pay to-day in the shape of the collapse of the organized Church is only the inevitable consequence of our policy of making grace available to all at too low a cost. We gave away the word and sacraments wholesale, we baptized, confirmed, and absolved a whole nation unasked and without condition. Our humanitarian sentiment made us give that which was holy to the scornful and unbelieving. We poured forth unending streams of grace. But the call to follow Jesus in the narrow way was hardly ever heard. Where were those truths which impelled the early Church to institute the catechumenate, which enabled a strict watch to be kept over the frontier between the Church and the world, and afforded adequate protection for costly grace?

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.

Selfishness is still the first nature of humanity, and kindness second. The day kindness becomes our first nature and selfishness second, that day I'll call it a civilized world.

Civilized beings take responsibility for the conflicts of the world and actively work towards a future that needs no 24/7 military, rather than accepting the death of a soldier as the norm and celebrating it as a glorious occasion.

I Want The Golden World (The Sonnet) No matter what you say, I want the golden world. To hell with the sayers of nay, I keep working without reward. You may have your comfort, Enjoy all your luxuries futile. For me there's no other joy, Like making someone smile. All you do is take and take, Yet I have nothing against thee. Just remember that one day, You shall die of obesity. Vegetables can mock all they want. I shall die building the golden world.

No dream must be coldly self-centric, no destination full of luxurious desire. When you look back at the days gone by, you oughta see labor, not your lost character.

If I have ten days to live, I'll spend one day gathering strength, so I can spend the rest nine days, helping and lifting the fallen.

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.

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but a life given for a life fallen makes the whole world alive.

When you love the world like you love your family, that day you'll develop the peacemaker métier.

My Mission (The Sonnet) I am not here to inspire butcher doctors, I am here to build humanitarian doctors. I am not here to entertain reckless coders, I am here to invigorate humanitarian coders. I am not here to arouse mindless engineers, I am here to torque up humanitarian engineers. I am not here to pamper crooked politicians, I am here to wake up the brave world builders. I am not here to applaud counterfeit philanthropy, I am here to energize humanitarian entrepreneurs. I am not here to peddle the glory of logic over life, I'm here to raise humanitarian scientists 'n philosophers. There is no rest till humanity courses through human veins. My mission is to flood the world with humanitarians by the thousands.

Dropout Scientist (The Sonnet) I am a scientist who doesn't have a degree, I am a poet who has no control over words. I am a philosopher who has no intellect whatsoever, I am a monk with no idea, what it means to be religious. If I am being honest, I have no clue what I am, And I know quite well that you do not know either. But believe you me my friend, one day in sheer awe, Your descendants will come up with the rightful answer. In my 30 years of life, I've traveled quite a distance, Which will take the world at least a millennium to cover. That's why archaic designations fall short to define life, No designation is qualified to define a being beyond border. My faith is humanity, my reason is humanity, my love is humanity. I am but a glimpse of the future, without coldness and rigidity.

I am the essence of determination - I am speculation, aspiration, the spirit of ascension - I am the peace call of evolution - I am togetherness itself sisters and brothers - I am life, I am breath, I am humanite, a human dynamite that destroys every inhumanity that crosses its path.

Wanna change the world - first stop whining like backboneless fleshbags, and work till your last ounce of strength to attain a position of power. Run for office, be a copper, be a scientist, journalist, filmmaker - be something - anything - that earns you control over the paradigm. Infiltrate each and every corner of society that holds power, then use that power to lift up the world, towards an integrative, hateless and sustainable future. I'll be gone soon, but there'll come a time when every walk of society will be run by my soldiers. That day, I shall finally rest in peace, knowing that my world is in good hands - your hands.

World, my valentine.

Humankind, my valentine!

Give Me A Keyboard, I'll Give You Revolution (The Sonnet) I just want to write - that's all I ever want - to write, write and write! The day the words stop coming, will be my last corporeal night. Either I shall die by an assassin's bullet, or I shall die on my keyboard, but I refuse to die of old-age and disease. Death scares those who are scared of life, I have already lived my life in service. I live on keyboard, I'll die on keyboard, Keyboard is my instrument of illumination. Nothing short could satisfy my palate - Give me a keyboard, I'll give you revolution. With my keyboard I've defended the meek, With my keyboard I've castrated the pricks. With my keyboard I've brought down dictators, With my keyboard I've schooled bigoted pigs. With my keyboard I've raised Gods by hundreds, With my keyboard I've delivered world-builders. With my keyboard I've produced hatebusters, With my keyboard I've raised bulldozers. Death is but a myth - body dies, not bulldozer; Body is merely a vessel for the mission. If you want your ideas to live forever, You gotta sacrifice your life for a vision. I never lived as body, but only as a dream - My life is testament to the dream of united earth. I don't have a message, for I am the message - Sacrifice is beacon, that illuminates the universe.

I own just two 5 dollar tshirts - one is my regular wear, another my backup for washdays. And for my travels I own two 10 dollar shirts and two 20 dollar jeans, which are also used for my book covers. I don't need more, I don't buy more. This is not minimalism, it's called self-regulation - the lack of which has led to the shallow, judgmental, privilege-craving prick of a society we live in today. It's not about saving money, it's about humanizing money, by using it wisely, not just for individual benefit, but collective benefit. Buy the things you need the most, save a little for rainy days, and use the rest to lift up the fallen. Any citizen who masters this simple humanitarian habit, is no longer obligated to pay taxes to the government. And when enough citizens of the world make it the mantra of their life, not just to lift themselves, but each other, the governments of the world are automatically rendered obsolete. Government is funded by the people - then the governments use those funds to manufacture war, in order to further sustain the democratic cashflow that keeps them in business. Therefore, when people pull their funds and redirect them themselves, towards actual, tangible, humanitarian initiatives, there isn't going to be a government. It's only the humanitarian indifference of the citizens that keeps governments alive, that in turn keep borders and wars alive. Once the citizens are actually, genuinely, nontheoretically accountable of the welfare of society, beyond the prehistoric paradigm peddled by the state, all Capitol, Kremlin and White Hall will crumble to dust.

Someone asked me the other day, do I like to write prose better or poetry? To which I can only say - both are fundamental to my works. In fact, I started out with prose, as you might remember - and my most invigorating ideas came to this world in the form of prose. Along the way, I felt a craving for poetry, so quite on a whim I wrote the first sonnet. Suddenly an entire new horizon opened up to me. Eventually prose and poetry became equally potent carrier of my ideas - they became complimentary to each other - they became supplementary to each other. However, I do admit, as I grow older, I'm getting more and more drawn towards poetry as my primary vessel.

Political ideologies are not unlike technological inventions - both have expiry dates. Take the first electric bulb for example. When electric filament bulb came into existence it turned gas lamps obsolete - but then power efficient led bulb came into the scene, which turned filament bulbs obsolete. Likewise, back in the days when world conquest was all the craze, nationalism was the fire that united the dominated souls of the invaded lands to stand up to their invaders. But today when the notion of invasion is no longer the norm, and a sense of global oneness is on the rise, nationalism is no longer cool - it is obsolete, inane, and downright prehistoric. Today, it's the fire of integration that lights the world, not tribe, heritage and tradition. No ideology is ideal, no ideology is ultimate. So, focus on ascension, not allegiance. Evolution is life, rigidity is death - the wheel just keeps turning - monarchy replaced by democracy, democracy replaced by meritocracy - fundamentalism replaced by interfaith, interfaith replaced by freethought - church replaced by state, state replaced by civic duty - capitalism replaced by socialism, socialism replaced by humanitarianism. Countries become cities, cities become neighborhoods, neighborhoods become family - that's real upward mobility - that's civilization.

One Mission, Many Vessels (The Sonnet, 1313) One thunder, visions plenty. One mission, vessels plenty. One source, seekers plenty. One fate, fervors plenty. From dust we're born, In dust we're gone. Cashes to ashes, Bitcoins in trashes, Division is nefarious, Unity is dawn. The day the billions of people of earth are valued more than the billionaires, that day you shall be human being, that day you are king and queen. Naskar doesn't have flag or nation, My flag is world flag - my nation, world nation. Call me poet, scientist or humanitarian, Naskar is the spirit of world integration.

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.

Failing to be American (The Sonnet) I've tried to rekindle the American sentiment of my early days of writing, but in vain. Once you wake up to the vastness of the world, it is impossible to revert to the tribal lane. I broke into the world scene as a westerner but, Naskar the American writer exists no longer. Today Naskar is but an Earth philosopher, There is only Naskar the Earth reformer. In the early years when I wrote on America, I used to write as an American writer. Today when I write on any nation, I write as an Earth writer. The whole world is my diary, I am the world's destiny. Try as they might to maintain prejudice, I am the line between humanity and nationality.

Politicians don't have race, politicians don't have religion, politicians don't have nationality. You may think, this is a good thing - well, in this case, it's not. You know why? Because their race is self-interest - their religion is self-interest - their nationality is self-interest. Politicians can be white, black, brown or martian - but once a moron, always a moron. Some monkeys are white, some monkeys are colored, but inside they are not white or colored - they are politicians - which means, they are all monkeys. And the exception to this norm often comes from not so popular parts of the world - for example, South Africa. Which only proves that, you don't need to be a so-called geopolitical superpower to do what's right - you don't have to be a superpower to be a peacemaker. In fact in most cases, the so-called superpowers are the most morally bankrupt states in the world. Because guess what - governments don't exist to do the right thing, governments exist to do whatever keeps them in power. And the day the politics of self-interest comes to an end, there will be no longer any need for activists, humanitarians and reformers.

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.

One day my memories will fade, but the world's memory of me will never fade - that's how I've lived my life.

I don't write for the vast majority of people who get excited very easily, then lose interest the next day. I write for those rare few jewelhearts who have the tenacity and backbone to dedicate their entire existence to a cause.

Rise My Lions, Be Heroes of Earth! (Sonnet 1289) You gotta surpass your intellect and belief, If you want to stand as healer and peacemaker. If that's not what you want, do as you please; My works are not for the self-absorbed taker. We don't need to build a world of faith, We don't need to build a world of logic. We just need to build a world human enough, To place without prejudice, all faith and logic. We don't need to build a world with one superpower, We gotta build a world where the world is superpower. We don't need a world rotting in diplomatic gutter, Let's build a world that has no geopolitical clutter. It's not enough to be a national hero of one nation, You gotta be a national hero of all nations. That day I shall call you a human of earth, When you are the gateway to world illumination.

It's not enough to be a national hero of one nation, You gotta be a national hero of all nations. That day I shall call you a human of earth, When you are the gateway to world illumination.

In those early days, I gave you a motto - My world, my responsibility. I say to you further today, Burn my books to cinders, and go light up humanity.

She seemed to have it all. Humanitarian success on the world stage, contentment and love in her private life. As she lazed on the deck of the Jonikal, for once the barometer of her heart was set fair. By some curious alchemy the public sensed this transformation, that this lonely, vulnerable and rudderless vessel had at last found a comforting anchor in life, a safe harbor to run to from the perils of the deep. For a few short days she enjoyed that state of grace in a stormy existence. Then the heavens cracked open--and claimed her.

Heather Mills As a tireless campaigner for many charitable causes, Heather Mills joined Diana in support of the banishment of land mines all over the world. For her efforts against land mines, Ms. Mills was awarded the inaugural UNESCO Children in Need Award. She is also Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations Association, and she has been active in helping amputees by promoting the use of prostheses. Diana, Princess of Wales, was a truly remarkable human being. All too often today we refer to people as icons; in Diana’s case, the word is wholly appropriate. She was a wife, a mother, a humanitarian, and a true ambassador. Despite what the press wanted us to believe, Diana didn’t court publicity. On the contrary, she did far more behind the scenes to help people than in front. Her willingness to reveal her own frailties has, I am sure, encouraged many people to seek help and come to terms with their own personal problems. She was able to reach out to people in a way that few can. In the early days of HIV and AIDS, when everyone was so afraid of this so-called new disease, Diana’s simple gesture of shaking hands with an AIDS patient at a hospital in London broke down the taboo and removed the stigma around the disease. Her palace advisers had initially tried to dissuade her from making this gesture, but Diana--who always led with her heart--went against them and did what she believed to be right.

Diplomats sitting inside their cozy air-conditioned offices most profoundly utter, you must have patience to have peace on earth. To them I say, how dare you preach on peace, you ignorant snobs - tell that to the innocent little kids who are suffering in warzones, without any clue as to whether they'll live to see the next day - while the capitalist circle of the developed world keeps getting richer by getting the shallow masses hooked on nonessential technology, these children of war have one question in their mind - whether starvation will kill them first or explosives. Shame on you - shame on us - who despite having a roof over head and food on the table, have not the slightest bit of concern for these innocent lives forgotten by destiny. There is no time for patience - there is no time for diplomacy - there is no time for policies, legislations and meaningless paperwork. It's enough already. Either stand up and rush to the aid of these war-stricken communities through whichever means possible or keep your mouth shut for the rest of your life.

Lovenut Sonnet When I was a teenager, There was a sticker on my desk. My father had stuck it there, Saying, till you reach your goal, don't rest. Since that day I haven't stopped, For I haven't reached my goal. You may ask what the goal may be, It is to die a lovenut lifting all. Lovenut is one who is nuts, Total bonkers for the benefit of society, One whose lifeblood is sacrifice, A revolutionary who is above all security. I give a call to all the lovenuts of society. Stop not till you remind all their humanity.

Make it a habit to feed at least one hungry person in your neighborhood every day, and there won't be any need for soup-kitchens in the world.

I work almost all of my non-sleeping hours, but never do I feel busy, because my work is the fulfillment of my lifeforce. Here, some may say that I am lucky to do what I love, but not everybody finds a livelihood of their choice. To them I say, luck had very little to do with me doing what I love. I am able do what I love, because since my childhood I had only one mission, that is to unite my humankind and that very unshakable mission paved the path for my work. I made my mission my life. I dreamt my mission - I breathed my mission - I lived my mission. Having fun like a teenager does, was not in my dictionary. Getting high and getting laid like an adolescent does, was not in my vocabulary. Going on dates like a teenager does, was not in my book. I had only one vision in front of my eyes, and that was the vision of a united humanity. And today you know me as a humanitarian thinker, because of all those so called "fun times" I sacrificed for a greater goal. And till this day my mission flows through my veins like blood. Now, here I am not saying that an adolescent is not supposed to have fun - in fact, part of the purpose of my work is to build a world where every child from everywhere has the basic right to cherish their childhood without worry, fear and insecurities. So the point is, if you truly can dedicate your life to one single mission, no matter the nature of the mission, then sooner or later the mission itself will pave its own way for you to keep on walking - so, close your eyes, visualize your mission and take the leap of faith.

The world has a ridiculously short attention span. It cannot stick to any one cause for more than a few days. They forgot about Palestine, they forgot about Afghanistan, they forgot about Jallianwala Bagh, and they’ll soon forget about Ukraine as well. The world forgets, but the suffering of the people continues. Don't be that world my friend, be a better world, a civilized and responsible world, only then we'll be able to prevent another Palestine crisis, another Afghanistan crisis, another Ukraine crisis, otherwise these events will keep recurring until everybody is six feet under.

Be The Love Commandment (A Sonnet) Instead of worrying about a fictitious judgment day, Make your actual today a real nonjudgment day. Instead of hoping for a fictitious heaven after death, Make this world that you have an abode without hate. Plenty of heart force we have wasted on fiction, Plenty of attention we have placed on insecurity. Now it's time to redirect our time and priorities, It is time to be the valiant vanguards of reality. I ain’t talkin’ about being chained to the reality, Nor about keeping things the way they are for so long. All I'm asking is, we pay attention to the now and here, Instead of obsessing over tales from days long gone. So, stand up to the tyrants as apocalypse incarnate. Reach out to the needy as a living love commandment.

I may not live long, for each day my strength diminishes, but so long as there is even a trace of strength and life left in me, I will keep on giving.

Intellectual Fascism – 1/3 If fascism is defined as the arbitrary belief that individuals possessing certain traits (such as those who are white, Aryan, or male) are intrinsically superior to individuals possessing certain other traits (such as those who are black, Jewish, or female), and that therefore the "superior" individuals should have distinct politico-social privileges, then the vast majority of (American) liberals and so called antifascists are actually intellectual fascists. In fact, the more politico-economically liberal our citizens are, the more intellectually fascistic they often tend to be. Intellectual fascism - in accordance with the above definition - is the arbitrary belief that individuals possessing certain traits (such as those who are intelligent, cultured, artistic, creative, or achieving) are intrinsically superior to individuals possessing certain other traits (such as those who are stupid, uncultured, unartistic, uncreative, or unachieving). The reason why the belief of the intellectual fascist, like that of the politico-social fascist, is arbitrary is simple: there is no objective evidence to support it. At bottom, it is based on value judgements or prejudices which are definitional in character and are not empirically validatable, nor is it falsifiable. It is a value chosen by a group of prejudiced people - and not necessarily by a majority. This is not to deny that verifiable differences exist among various individuals. They certainly do. Blacks, in some ways, are different from whites; short people do differ from tall ones; stupid individuals can be separated from bright ones. Anyone who denies this, whatever his or her good intentions, is simply not accepting reality. Human differences, moreover, usually have their distinct advantages. Under tropical conditions, the darkly pigmented blacks seem to fare better than do the lightly pigmented whites. At the same time, many blacks and fewer whites become afflicted with sickle-cell anaemia. When it comes to playing basketball, tall men are generally superior to short ones. But as jockeys and coxswains, the undersized have their day. For designing and operating electric computers, a plethora of gray matter is a vital necessity; for driving a car for long distances, it is likely to prove a real handicap. Let us face the fact, then, that under certain conditions some human traits are more advantageous - or "better" - than some other traits. Whether we approve the fact or not, they are. All people, in today's world, may be created free, but they certainly are not created equal. Granting that this is so, the important question is: Does the possession of a specific advantageous endowment make an individual a better human? Or more concretely: Does the fact that someone is an excellent athlete, artist, author, or achiever make him or her a better person? Consciously or unconsciously, both the "politico-social" and the "intellectual fascist" say yes to these questions. This is gruesomely clear when we consider politico-social or lower-order fascists. For they honestly and openly not only tell themselves and the world that being white, Aryan, or male, or a member of the state-supported party is a grand and glorious thing; but, simultaneously, they just as honestly and openly admit that they despise, loathe, consider as scum of the earth individuals who are not so fortunate as to be in these select categories. Lower-order fascists at least have the conscious courage of their own convictions. Not so, alas, intellectual or higher-order fascists. For they almost invariably pride themselves on their liberality, humanitarianism, and lack of arbitrary prejudice against certain classes of people. But underneath, just because they have no insight into their fascistic beliefs, they are often more vicious, in their social effects, than their lower-order counterparts.

Take the steps beyond personal gain and personal pain, to bring victory upon humanity. Be the cause of humanity’s joy – be the cause of humanity’s cheer – be the cause of humanity’s harmony – and above all be the cause of humanity’s unification – even if it means walking on a road full of thorns every single day of your life.

Act with conscience and all will be well for humanity. And even when it's not well, we'll have each other to share our burdens. In the end, isn't it all that matters, that we are not alone in the vastness of the universe, that we have each other to hold, each day, every day, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death make us dust!

Can you honestly proclaim that the world is not primitive! Can you let your six-year-old go to the library a few blocks away from your apartment on her own, without worrying about her safe return! Look deep within yourself, then answer, not to me, but to yourself. If you feel the slightest bit of worry on this matter, then I'm afraid, our world is not yet made unprimitive. So, what can we do about it? Do we simply accept it as our fate and live in fear every day of our life, or do we stand up and act, so that, even if we do not have a safe and civilized world to live in, at least our children or perhaps their children will!

The Maker (Sonnet) Step by step we'll reach the mountaintop, We'll build roads penetrating impediments. Bit by bit we'll trash our conformities, We’ll erect civilization upon reason and sentiments. Day and night we'll stand tall in service, Through storm, rain, heat and gloom. There's no time for selfishness, Being selfish would bring universal doom. Sanity is in giving and caring, It’s in every act of collective concern. Because if you care only for the self, Deserting your children your neighbors will run. The world is our home and we must be its caretaker. Comfort is luxury, it’s time we rise as the maker.

Day and night we'll stand tall in service, Through storm, rain, heat and gloom. There's no time for selfishness, Being selfish would bring universal doom.

No, not words but the action speaks to our community's needs. Help when tragedy strikes.

Answer the urgent call. Help when tragedy strikes. And do it for free.

Is it necessary to ask which attitude is more Christian, one that longs to return to the ‘unbroken harmony and unity’ of the Middle Ages, or one that wishes to use reason in order to free mankind from pestilence and oppression? But some part at least of the authoritarian Church of the Middle Ages succeeded in branding such practical humanitarianism as ‘worldly’, as characteristic of ‘Epicureanism’, and of men who desire only to ‘fill their bellies like the beasts’. The terms ‘Epicureanism’, ‘materialism’, and ‘empiricism’, that is to say, the philosophy of Democritus, one of the greatest of the Great Generation, became in this way the synonyms of wickedness, and the tribal Idealism of Plato and Aristotle was exalted as a kind of Christianity before Christ. Indeed, this is the source of the immense authority of Plato and Aristotle, even in our own day, that their philosophy was adopted by medieval authoritarianism. But it must not be forgotten that, outside the totalitarian camp, their fame has outlived their practical influence upon our lives. And although the name of Democritus is seldom remembered, his science as well as his morals still live with us.

To improve the human condition in the human world, the humans have to rise and act out of conscience, not of delusion. And be careful not to let your focus be on taking away people’s Gods, because if you do, people won’t even let you in their lives. Let your focus be on improving human condition, and when that job begins to show results, eventually the world will get rid of the man-made Gods. Only when people truly know that there are humans willing to be next to them in times of their distress, that they can let go of their imaginary Gods. And that’s the day when human conscience will truly reign over the human world.

I don't write to sell books, I write because my mind teeters on the edge of psychosis if I spend a single day without writing.