  A note on the wonders of human emotion, hope, love, peace, heritage. The scope turns to India...long have I warred with pride and shame of where this Queen was molded - however indirectly. At long last, the dawn breaks on the horizon of my mind and Pride, deeply embedded in there somewhere, has come to the forefront. What started this you may ask? One of my historian channels reported to me, and I've seen and heard things on the Taj Mahal, perhaps hundreds of times. But for some reason today, I took notice and what I saw made me feel incredibly close to the great hearts of history. Hearing it makes me feel that it's true - you cannot describe it unless you see it reflected off the teardrop of a lover's cheek as they gaze in amazement. Shah Jahan was declared insane by his own son and locked away, where he pined forever, obsessed over his young bride's premature death. His every breath was steeped in the intoxication of his love for his wife and to see the Taj mahal to completion and hope it could but reflect a small amount of the essence that made her special to him. His last breath was taken gazing at a building that didnt come close to glorious wonder that was his young love. Across the way was the building his mother, Lul Jahan, built for her parents...the first structure in marble.
The lattice screens were all carved from a single slab ..never joined, gems were brought in to complete the intricacy of the fantastic building as a testament to the love she bore her parents. Is there any other more hopeful wonder in this world for those who have none? It's a timeless tribute to love in it's purest and diverse forms, for that of a child, parent, friend, kindred soul or deeply spun true love. Then there is Rishikesh..land of the Gurus, nestled amoung the trees near the foothills of the Himalayas on the banks of a flowing holy River. Beyond it's temples...in Masuri..8000 ft high, rooftop to the world they say, and AT the foothills of the Himalayas. I want to walk through it's peaceful grounds and cemetary that attests the presence of men and women, fallen in previous battles, childbirth or simply to go in peace, gazing at the wonder of the world. These women were placed with honour to lie amoung the men, not cast out because they were unclean, unpure etc. There has got to be something in it, if so many have returned to this holy place to cleanse themselves and stay..to die.
To stand above the world, as high as they dare...and finally let go. There is also a school there, a fantastic school I never knew existed...called Woodstock, it houses children from all over the world. it's a requirement that there are equal numbers from major countries so the children leave with a better knowledge of India, other cultures, and themselves. They are students most readily accepted into Universities, who cling to their teachers crying when time for them to go. They talked...at ages 12-16, of how at peace they are there, how their mornings greet them with the best sunrises, sounds of nature, purity. Their days carry them in the presence of constant learning from their teachers and peers alike, cultural differences united under one roof, one classroom, and above all...understood, accepted.
They have no technologies (as yet) and they bond so strongly that countries seperate them but communication never breaks down. This school deserves our respect...and our support. This is ...wonderful. True hope for the youth of our future - oh if only they outnumbered the rest. But even one tiny pebble in the ocean that surrounds us..will make thousands of ripples. Let's just hope those children cast their pebbles to save us all. 
