To the children's teachers...

The piece below has been popularly referred to as Lincoln's letter to his son's teacher. There are sources that deny this, though. However it may be, I think of it as one of the best writings that I have come across till now. A few others are If (Rudyard Kipling), and Success (misattributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson).

He will have to learn, I know,
that all men are not just,
all men are not true.
But teach him also that
for every scoundrel there is a hero;
that for every selfish politician,
there is a dedicated leader...
Teach him for every enemy there is a friend,

Steer him away from envy,
if you can,
teach him the secret of
quiet laughter.

Let him learn early that
the bullies are the easiest to lick...
Teach him, if you can,
the wonder of books...
But also give him quiet time
to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky,
bees in the sun,
and the flowers on a green hillside.

In the school teach him
it is far honourable to fail
than to cheat...
Teach him to have faith
in his own ideas,
even if everyone tells him
they are wrong...
Teach him to be gentle
with gentle people,
and tough with the tough.

Try to give my son
the strength not to follow the crowd
when everyone is getting on the band wagon...
Teach him to listen to all men...
but teach him also to filter
all he hears on a screen of truth,
and take only the good
that comes through.

Teach him if you can,
how to laugh when he is sad...
Teach him there is no shame in tears,
Teach him to scoff at cynics
and to beware of too much sweetness...
Teach him to sell his brawn
and brain to the highest bidders
but never to put a price-tag
on his heart and soul.

Teach him to close his ears
to a howling mob
and to stand and fight
if he thinks he’s right.
Treat him gently,
but do not cuddle him,
because only the test
of fire makes fine steel.

Let him have the courage
to be impatient...
let him have the patience to be brave.
Teach him always
to have sublime faith in himself,
because then he will have
sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order,
but see what you can do...
He is such a fine little fellow,
my son!

Remembering 'Don't speak'

You and me
We used to be together
Everyday together always
I really feel
That I'm losing my best friend
I can't believe
This could be the end
It looks as though you're letting go
And if it's real
Well I don't want to know

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts

Our memories
Well, they can be inviting
But some are altogether
Mighty frightening
As we die, both you and I
With my head in my hands
I sit and cry

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts (no, no, no)
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts

It's all ending
I gotta stop pretending who we are...

You and me
I can see us dying...are we?

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts (no, no, no)
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts
Don't tell me cause it hurts!
I know what you're saying
So please stop explaining

Don't speak,
don't speak,
don't speak,
oh I know what you're thinking
And I don't need your reasons
I know you're good,
I know you're good,
I know you're real good
Oh, la la la la la la La la la la la la
Don't, Don't, uh-huh Hush, hush darlin'
Hush, hush darlin' Hush, hush
don't tell me tell me cause it hurts
Hush, hush darlin' Hush, hush darlin'
Hush, hush don't tell me tell me cause it hurts.

~ Eric Stefani, Gwen Stefani

Grief

I am now, A betrayer of the past that I ought to be faithful to and A slave of the misgiving present. Because, eventhough we are so-close-yet-so-far in this 'the longest period' that we have lived together after nearly a decade of solitude, The conversations between me and you is a festering wound... My words, the oozing pus, an outcome of the tussle, between our forgotten past and the unforgiving present. And often and everytime, I wish I could be sweeter to you overlooking your inabilities to foster the beautiful kinship that is now an almost was...