The Scenic Route

Blog Post #39: Poetry Evaluation

Ryo Cain

Per. 07

Clouds of War: Powerful Poetry

Poetry is a powerful experience. Through the rhymes of great poetry there is always an important lesson to be found, and an eloquent tale to be told through its verses. Poetry is literature in its most striking and provoking form. The emotions transferred and all wrapped together in an immaculate assemblage of communication forms the strongest bond between the author and the reader, and by simply using poetry to convey the relationship between what the poet is experiencing and what the reader needs to hear, the emotion is made far more apparent through the verse written. Poetry allows the words on the page to come to life, and reflects the feeling the poet is trying to demonstrate on the reader. Sometimes when there is no way to explain a certain sentiment, poetry can permit the listener to draw their own conclusions. No matter through which lens the poem is viewed, the furtherance of the words and verses are a method to goad the deepest emotions inside the reader, and to teach them more about themselves than anything. Poetry is an involvement. It is a commitment for both the poet and the reader, and an adherence between them. A promise is in every verse, one made silent by both affiliates. This promise is not made to one another, but rather to the self. It is a promise to keep the story sacred, and listen to the lesson the poem holds. Clouds of War, and original poem by a brave man living in a war-torn Kuwait in the 1970’s holds all the meaning a poem should. The author, Samah Kalakh, recalls the deaths of his family members and the destruction of his home by the Iraqi Taliban in a short, but to the point reflection of war. It is a dark, depressing account depicting not only the effects the war had on his own life, but all conflict in the world. This poem, with all the meaning it holds, exemplifies the sadness and destruction in our world today and is a great representation of powerful poetry made straight from the heart.

As far as the emotion of the poem goes, I was initially shocked and depressed after reading Clouds of War for the first time. I knew nothing of the author, but I knew that the sadness and agony of battle always takes a heavy toll on the lives of those involved and never ends happily. War is a destructive and ongoing process which leaves a scar on the lifecycle of the Earth, and devastates the natural order of the people. “Heartache, misery, endless tears Unheard cries of a broken heart” (Kalakh, 1-2) Everything is effected by war one way or another. Directly or indirectly, all war can be seen to have a consequence on the world and its peoples. Conflict arises and violence breaks out, and before long the war is over and the people are left to deal with the scraps of their lives strewn about the frontline. Samah Kalakh knows this well. Samah’s family was killed in the relentless barrage of the Taliban on Kuwait’s capital, and as I later found out, Clouds of War was written to help cope and raise awareness of the struggle the citizens of Kuwait were facing. When I looked at the nature of the poem, I noticed that it took the aspect of a father. I assumed that Samah was an old man that had a wife, and had lost a daughter to whom which he was referring to in the poem. I researched the conflict of the Gulf War and followed a bibliography about Samah, and as it turns out, Samah had a seven year old baby girl that was burned alive in an oil fire when the Taliban bombed the capital. At this point in the project I felt horrible. The poem lost all luster and painted a dark format of life and death to pain and suffering. I wanted to cry. I related to Samah’s agony. The poem was much more upsetting once I knew what Samah was actually referring to, and the feeling of grief set in. I put myself there, watching my own-born daughter dying right in front of me and not being able to do anything about it. I missed Samah’s daughter, and I didn’t even know her name. I didn’t want to anymore. “I hear words of love you whispered to me Though it seems forever ago” (Kalakh, 9-10) A home is defined by family, and a broken family fractures a home. When a home is destroyed, the same happens to the family. The loss of a loved one can devastate the lives surrounding it. “I close my eyes only to see In a starry night, your eyes glow” (Kalakh, 11-12) Samah mourned for the loss of his daughter for many years, even after the war was over and the Iraqi’s pulled out of Kuwait. It is a true story, one Samah has always been reluctant to tell, but it is also in the sense of all war. Every battle is fought with sacrifices, and whoever walks away with the least amount of losses makes it to the next round. Neither side wins, just one does better than the other and claims victory. At this point in the project I felt sick, not so much for just Samah’s daughter anymore, but for all the people of the world who have felt the detrimental effects of war. Battle forgoes many steps, each one playing into the next. There is always the cornerstone laid, usually a crumbling lie on the verge of being exposed. On this the frameworks of peace are built upon, because peace is always reflected in the image of the victor and erected with the blood and bone of the enemy. Pain and suffering sweep across the combat zone to end the war. Cities lost, families torn apart, lives ended and destroyed; all shattered by the conflict over something as meek as oil. I read a recent article about Samah Kalakh and found that he is currently a leading speaker for peace in Kuwait, and has lectured all around the Middle East protesting unnecessary war. He gains most of his support from his poetry, and Clouds of War is his most convincing piece. With literature as potent as this poem, I’m sure everyone can at least take a step towards world peace and understanding. That’s how powerful Samah Kalakh’s Clouds of War really is.

As I investigated deeper into my research of Samah Kalakh’s life, I found out more and more about the conflict in Kuwait. As a small, barely developed country, Kuwait has been under a lot of pressure not just from neighboring countries, but from the oil economy too. Kuwait produces about 267 bn bbl’s of oil every year, amounting to almost fifteen percent of the world’s oil reserve. This makes Kuwait a prime target for the more ambitious countries seeking oil wealth. War is imminent in these conditions. A small country with supreme oil excess surrounded by power-hungry nations is a recipe for disaster. On August 2^nd, 1990, Iraq launched a massive attack on Kuwait and gained control of the northern oil fields. Kuwait was defenseless. They had no military built up, and with the Iraqi’s gaining more and more momentum every day, Samah knew that he and his family needed to flee from their home before matters got worse. With nowhere else to go, Samah took his wife and his daughter with what little food and resources they could carry to a shelter promised along the border of Iraq. Highway 80, a stretch of road crossing the border from Kuwait into Iraq, is where almost two-hundred thousand Palestinian Kuwaitis attempted to escape from their war-torn country. Samah and his family were among the crowd traveling across this road when all Hell broke loose. Only three-thousand make it out alive. Now dubbed the “Highway of Death”, Highway 80 is where the Iraqi forces made on last desperate attempt to destroy Kuwait. With the Taliban retreat, Saddam Hussein knew that they had lost. He cut resources and troops going into the warzone, and put into motion his “Scorched Earth” tactic with what little forces he had left. The Iraqi’s burnt down every city they could on the way out, including the oil fields and Samah’s home. Then, in blatant violation of the laws of war and with ruthless sadist carnage, bombed the entire stretch of Highway 80. With no warning, nowhere to go, and in utter panic and sheer ruin, Samah fell to the ground as explosions rained down upon the road. Everything was burnt immediately. The bombs were so hot that the ground itself turned to glass, and the vehicles along the highway were reduced to ash. Samah was knocked out in the eruptions, and when he awoke to the smoldering wasteland, found a charred shell of his daughter laying before him. The pain, the feeling of hopelessness, the confusion of it all, made me feel hate for all the violence in the world more than anything. I was there, in the midst of all the anguish and suffering, and I reacted the same way Samah did: I cried. I didn’t want it to be true. The power of the poem spoke to me on a personal level, even more so with the full story at hand. It seemed surreal at first, but with no way to deny the truth, I had to accept it. I had to be part of it. I was now a Palestinian from Kuwait who had just lost his daughter. I had seen the fires of war. War had always been an impersonal entity, something that has to be done and is always viewed from afar. The after-effects are always glorified to help the bystanders forget the unseen horrors of it all. But Clouds of War is personal. It is an account, something that really happened whether the reader chooses to accept it or not, and is just a small peek inside the real revulsions of war. I now understood the heartbreak Samah was feeling. “They couldn’t hear your desperate scream Do they know what does it mean? To be so young and have a dream Just like you my glorious queen” (Kalakh, 13-14) Samah’s account of his daughter is just one story of the many who lost a loved family member on the “Highway of Death”. The realization that the conflict portrayed in Clouds of War is just one of the countless wartime poems just goes to show how much violence and destruction there is in the world. There always has, and most likely always will be, war on Earth. Nothing can stop battle, only delay it. Setting aside differences to create “peace” is a temporary fix. Sooner or later all those differences build up, and then the war fought is much worse than it should have been. When the dust settles and the fighting is over, those who tried to prevent war suffer the most. The civilians and innocent eyewitnesses are left with the mess of the battlefront. War expends and takes all, and demands sacrifices from the people to feed the next conflict. Samah’s daughter was a victim of war, and a ransom paid for all the violence. War is a detrimental ruler of those who wish to see it end. “But clouds of war are just so merciless It rains death on flowers and weeds” (Kalakh, 19-20) War effects those who give in to it, and those who should have never been involved at all. The lust for death is never quenched for the soldiers fighting or the entity of war. War is a powerful value. Some would argue that war is necessary, but I am sure Samah would not agree. No matter how it is viewed, war is an entity that has always been and will always be. It brings darkness and sadness into the lives of those it effects, and with the sacrifices and losses it demands war has always been something to fear. No one enjoys war. It is simply something that happens, and is completely unavoidable. This Earth we live on has always been built up through conflict, and the labors demanded by war are harsh and unyielding. “The days, the month, all of the years Since our home was torn apart” (Kalakh, 2-3) Samah had to give his home, his comfortable life, and his own daughter to war. Samah simply paid the price for a battle he didn’t want. The idea that war is fought for a reason is justifiable, but I am sure that Samah would not agree with the validations Iraq had for invading Kuwait. Nonetheless, some of the greatest poetry of all time was born out of the ashes of war, and Clouds of War is no exception. Poetry explains and elucidates the esoteric profile of battle, and allows the reader and inside look at what really happens better than any other source. First-hand accounts of the tragedy put together with the literal flow of verses creates a perfect in-touch experience to share information and emotion at the same time. Poetry is the equilibrium for great writing, and the efficient communicator of wartime stories.

Now that I had a solid background to the poem, I could start relating Clouds of War to all fighting in the world. Samah captures the loss of his daughter in such a way that it becomes a perfect example of human hostility towards one another while still allowing it to be deciphered in the sense of battle’s grim corporeality. The horrors of war are atrocious and often unspeakable, and by making a subtle poem about just one instance of it Samah has revealed the truly staggering dismay that is battle. Samah lost his one and only daughter, the love of his life is gone forever because of something as stupid as lust for oil wealth. Samah can never get her back, and as hard as he tries the entity of war will never return her to him. Is that not what war does to everyone? War comes without warning and takes what is loved the most from the people it possesses. Then, just as fast as it came, war departs leaving a wake of destruction. Those who have just lost their most valued possession, their one love in life, are left empty and alone. The destruction is immeasurable. The neutral are damaged more than anyone. Those who have died have been lost in unnecessary vain, and those who are left behind have to carry out the sadness and longing left behind. Most will never get their life back on track. Some will never recover from the heartache of loss. Samah Kalakh has accepted the fact that his daughter is gone forever, but is far from mending his broken spirit. Clouds of War is an account and elucidation for conflict and warfare in our world on an all-encompassing interpretation, but it is also an apology meant just for Samah himself. It is his way of saying goodbye to his daughter, and a closer for his sorrow. “Please don’t you cry, my dearest dear” (Kalakh, 23-24) If Samah could read his poem to his little girl, I’m sure he would. It is his farewell. “I never meant to leave you fatherless Never wished to see your heart bleed” (Samah Kalakh, 17-18) The tragedy of it all is captured beautifully in Clouds of War. The pain and suffering felt by those who have lost a family member in a familiar way, and those who have died in the carnage and disarray of battle. It is an apology for all of it. What was done is done, and everyone has to move on sometime. Samah speaks for all those who have ever lost a loved one to the greed of war and helps them take comfort in knowing no one is at fault for it. War happens, simply disregarding the fact that it does is ignorant. Samah is just trying to bear the sadness of his loss. “Don’t you cry my baby girl! Your loving dad is always here” (Kalakh, 21-22) Sadly, Samah’s baby girl is just considered another source of nourishment for war, already used up and forgotten about by the entity of violence. Even after reading through the poem a few more times and presenting it to my mother to get her opinion, I’m still unsure about how I feel. After all that research and evaluation, I still need some time to reflect. As of now I just feel depressed. The wars of history all seem to lead to the same place, why can’t we stop it? Samah’s daughter didn’t merit death, no one in war ever deserves to die. At the same time I know that clashing opinions can never be resolved any other way. World peace is not out of the question, but it will take more understanding and a lot more time. Poems like Samah Kalakh’s are the first step towards total cease-fire between all nations, and an accord of goodwill between all peoples.

All in all, I’m sure that everyone can agree that war is a terrible tragedy and that conflict between nations can be solved in calmer, more non-violent ways. The destruction of battle and the sadness of loss and heartbreak that follow it are never worth the spoils of war. Everyone thinks that this is their own personal world and everyone else is just living in it, but that is not a true way to live. All people need to get along with one another and share this Earth, because that is what peace is. Peace is something to strive for, and a perfect world may not happen in my own lifetime, but I can still hope for it. There is a void between the violence of war and the serenity of peace, and people live somewhere in between the two. Sometimes people move closer to peace as a whole, sometimes people fall short of unity and tumble back into pain and suffering. No matter what the final outcome may be, reading powerful literature like Samah Kalakh’s Clouds of War gives me hope. Peace is achievable, and with it in sight people will never give up on it. 

Blog Post #38

I walked into the living room and sat down to my mother across the table carrying two cups of coffee. It was a Monday afternoon, a ray of sunlight came through the window. My sister was in her room finishing her homework and I could smell dinner in the oven. I slid a copy of my poem across the table as I set down and handed my mother her coffee. "Clouds of War?" She asked. "It's a poem about war?" I confirmed her assumption and settled down in my seat as she began to read. She stayed completely expressionless as she tracked her eyes across the page.

After a minute she took a sip of her coffee, still saying nothing. She looked deep in thought. "That's powerful," She says. "Where is the author from?"

"Kuwait, it's on the coast of the Arabian Peninsula."

"Hm. Is it referring to the Gulf War?"

"Yeah, the author's family died during the invasion."

"Invasion by who?"

"The Iraqi Taliban."

"Oh that's right. I remember when that was going on."

"So what's your reaction to the poem?"

"I think it's kind of depressing, I don't like hearing about sad things like this. It is interesting to read about something as horrible as war in such a beautiful way though." She took another sip of her coffee and looked to the China cabinet.

"Do you have an opinion on the whole feeling of the poem?"

"It makes me scared for our future. If we can't even get along about something as simple as gas and land than I'm not sure we'll make it very far. People can't go on like this." She was looking back at her coffee mug. She seemed uncomfortable and distressed from the discussion.

"Do you think war is avoidable?"

"I believe it can, but only if we all decide to get along. I would like it to be."

I didn't quite agree with her, but I respected her opinion. I could understand where she was coming from and a positive attitude could never hurt. "Is anything confusing to you in the poem?"

"Nope. Still very interesting though. Thanks for sharing. Let me know how the rest of your project goes."
With that, I looked over the poem one more time and went back to doing my other homework.

After this interview, I really got to see where my mom and I differ on such topics as politics. She perceives a more liberal take on the world. She sees that our Earth needs improvement, and looks to help it. My mother has a positive outlook, and not saying that I don't, but I feel differently. I personally don't believe peace exists. War is necessary, and even though the battles fought are devastating, the consequences add up to a greater settlement than that which could be achieved any other way. Without war, there is no peace, and without suffering, there is no ecstasy. It is simply a law of nature. I truly wish that we could settle conflict without bloodshed, but the world doesn't work like that. Problems are handled in a very straight forward way, and peace is really only achieved through the eyes of the victor. If the world somehow does achieve peace, something went very wrong. One man's peace is over another man's dead body, and no one can argue with that; no one is left to. Peace is a castle built of the enemy's blood and bone, supported by the world's insidious deceit, and made strong through hate and suffering. Whoever has the bigger stick forms the world in their own image of peace. Suffering for one is the reason for another's content. These wars we fight are not in haste or condemnation, but more to keep peace from happening. Peace will enslave the enemy, and that is not true peace. My mother believes differently. She thinks that we can all work together and be free from each other's oppression and hatred, and that we can all be equal. But that's theoretical. If every man, woman, and child on Earth was a perfectly good-hearted person all the way down to the core, true peace could be imposed. I'm not saying that couldn't happen, but I don't think anyone has been able to completely rid themselves of hate yet. Peace, is an ideal. Not an event. Peace is for every every individual human being on Earth, but not to share. My mother is entitled to her opinion and I am entitled to mine, and I think we both bring up some great points.

Inclusively, everyone can agree that war is a terrible tragedy. There is a lot of hate, a lot of sadness, and a lot of destruction in the world. Each one of these is expressed in war. We have all experienced the horrors of battle one way or another. Weather it was something on television, something we read, or in Samah Kalakh's experience, something we lost, it is uniform that all conflict is not enjoyable. Peace is achievable, and can be reached if we all try. It will take every single human's power to instill peace on this fragile Earth, but I know we can do it.  This world is for everyone, but sometimes we don't act like it is. We just need to learn to share.

Blog Post #37

War is a powerful value. Some would argue that war is necessary, and that peace can never be achieved without it. No matter how it is viewed, war is an entity that has always been and will always be. It brings darkness and sadness into the lives of those it effects, and with the sacrifices and losses it demands war has always been something to fear. No one enjoys war. It is simply something that happens, and is completely unavoidable. This Earth we live on has always been built up through conflict, and the foundations for Peace are laid on the dead bodies of the enemy. War is harsh, unyielding, and powerful. The consequences of unrest between fellow humans is always a dark, and always results in just as many advantages as disadvantages -- for some.  

Samah Kalakh knows war from a first hand experience. Born in the small providence of Kuwait on the edge of the Arabian Peninsula, Kalakh was thrown into the life of a refuge at a very young age. Kuwait was still a developing country, and was prone to attack from the opposing Muslim Taliban surrounding their borders. When the Iraqi Taliban raided Kuwait's oil fields during the Gulf War, the United States stepped in to protect the civilians and innocent bystanders of Kuwait. The Iraqis knew they would lose, so as one last attempt at a Kuwait overthrow they conduced a "scorched earth" tactic. Raiding all the oil fields was the Taliban's main purpose, but since they couldn't have it, no one could. With a last strike on the capital of Kuwait, the Iraqis fled. The battle was over, but the scars left on the people of Kuwait, both emotionally and physically, were devastating. As she tried to put her life back together, Samah Kalakh wrote poems to help cope with the loss of her loved ones and to raise awareness to the terrible indignity of the Iraqi invaders. Today, Samah lives in the United States as a war refuge near New York. She works as a young writer and a poet, but is largely unaccredited for her works. Not a lot is known about her past in Kuwait, mostly because she doesn't want to talk about it. Still, some evidence of the war is evident in her poem Clouds of War. Samah is only seventeen years old, and yet she is a shining poet and a war survivor.

Blog Post #36: Siddhartha Essay

Ryo Cain

Per. 07

The Circle of the Inward Journey

            At one time or another, every child must make a realization. This realization, or truth, can only be discovered personally. A young adult must pull himself out of the known comfort of childhood and into the unfamiliar world of adults to achieve the goal of life, whatever that goal may be. Every individual has a personal goal, and every goal comes along with its own obstacles. Once this ultimate goal is achieved, if it is truly the ultimate goal, the personal journey and the realization will be enough to last a lifetime. This trial is the most arduous test the new coming adult will ever face, but that is the whole point. The discovery of the self can never be fully achieved. It is always enduring, rotating in a constant circle that repeats itself. To venture out into the mysterious in search of understanding is not always a physical path taken, sometimes both the challenges and the reward are seated inside the person. This unending inward search for peace and ultimate realization is best illustrated through Hermann Hesse’s celebrated novel, Siddhartha. Through the eyes of a young Brahmin living in India, Hesse brings to life the ideas of the hero’s circle, the cycle of life, and the internal journey of the individual. A youth not afraid to accomplish his goals, the young Siddhartha is an unspoiled model of human’s prerequisite to know.

            The story opens on a very young Siddhartha living with his father in a Brahmin community. Since he was just a baby, Siddhartha was predicted to do great things. His father is a great leader in the commune, and he is said to be one of the more “spiritual” adolescents of his age. Siddhartha enjoys meditating with his best friend Govinda around the village, and like all others in the municipal, is eager to find inner peace. Enlightenment is a common aspiration for the Brahmins, and Siddhartha is trying his best to achieve it. But even as happy and attainable Siddhartha seems to be, he is struggling more and more on the inside every day. He is impatient. Siddhartha feels like he is being filled up with false knowledge, and that even the most earnest Brahmins of his community can no longer sustain him. “All of the wise and wisest men he knew and whose teachings he enjoyed, not a single one had succeeded in reaching it, this heavenly world; not one had quenched that eternal thirst.” (Hesse, 7) Siddhartha sees no point in following an instructor that has never been down the path which is preached, those Brahmin don’t know true enlightenment any more than he does. Siddhartha sees that there is more than what just the Brahmin in his own hometown have to offer. Siddhartha needs wisdom, because wisdom is out there waiting for him. “Such was the nature of Siddhartha’s thoughts; this was his thirst, his sorrow.” (Hesse, 7) Siddhartha’s long journey is only beginning. He has chosen to dawn a new life before himself, and one that only he can travel by. Siddhartha will tread alone on his own personal path to Nirvana. Govinda will join him as he takes the first steps, but only physically. After a long night of meditation Siddhartha leaves to live with the Semanas in the forest by his village and to learn their ways, in hopes of a quicker path to enlightenment. Before long, Siddhartha and Govinda are practical Semanas. They follow the ways of fasting, and the idea of simplifying all things appeals to Siddhartha. Govinda is skeptical to this new way of life, but before long he is beginning to feel satisfied by the studies. Govinda is glad he trusted Siddhartha in this new way of being. But after an extensive reflection, Siddhartha runs into the same problem. A roadblock in his path to knowledge impedes Siddhartha’s mind. He finds the same snag with the Semanas that he did with the Brahmins: none of the teachers have achieved enlightenment. There is an extent to the knowledge being provided to Siddhartha, and all of it ends long before the vital Nirvana. “I am suffering from thirst, Govinda, and upon this long Semana path I have found nothing to slake it. Always I have thirsted for knowledge, always been filled with questions.” (Hesse, 17) Siddhartha feels the same deprivation of communication to Atman he had before while living with his father. He has improved much with the Semanas, but he can now see the bottom of the well of experience. Siddhartha needs to move on from this stepping stone in his path to enlightenment if he is to find Nirvana and achieve his goal. Dwelling in the past will never improve him, and now it is time to apply all that he has learned. Govinda trusts Siddhartha once again, and they both leave the Semanas. Keen to find the next milestone, Siddhartha has exemplified the commencement of the hero perfectly. Taking the first step into the unknown and having complete self-confidence is the hardest part of the hero’s cycle. Siddhartha was brave in his start, and he isn’t afraid to continue it either. A hero is defined by a courageous act, and Siddhartha has already been a fearless pioneer in his own challenge.

            Siddhartha is strong in his search for enlightenment, but there is still something that he hasn’t quite come to terms with himself about. He has chosen to ignore the one thing he is looking for. Siddhartha is still living the illusion of a physical path to happiness. There is no road to travel down that leads all people to Nirvana, for every person’s idea of contentment is different. Inner peace cannot be taught or preached. Siddhartha is trying to rush his way into enlightenment, and if he continues this way he will never achieve it. The cycle of life is a never-ending circle, one that goes on and on forever. A being is born, lives its life, and dies to be reborn as another creature again. To achieve enlightenment is to break this cycle and free the soul of the individual. Siddhartha believes he can speed up this process when really, true enlightenment can only happen when it is made to happen. The soul departs on its own, the body cannot force it to. Siddhartha doesn’t grasp this concept fully until he departs from his studies with the Buddha Gautama and leaves his friend Govinda behind, taking the next step in his journey alone. “Gripped by this thought, the slowly walking thinker stopped short, and at once a further thought sprang from the first one, a thought that was new to him.” (Hesse, 34) This is when Siddhartha really begins to look outside the world that he was given as a Brahmin, and when the real path to Nirvana begins for him. Teachers are a thing of the past now, he has learned as much as he could from them. No one can help Siddhartha with what only he can do. He has chosen a course that must be traveled only personally. All of Siddhartha’s instructors had told him that the path to enlightenment was measured in miles, when it is really measured in years; Siddhartha has begun to take his own direction. “From this moment when the world around him melted away and left him solitary as a star in the sky, from this moment of cold and despondency, Siddhartha emerged, more firmly Self than before, solidified.” (Hesse, 37) What Siddhartha seeks is not always hard to find, sometimes it is right in front of him. The teachers he hoped could bring him closer to enlightenment had actually been holding him back the whole time. Now, with a newly inspired sense of self confidence and trust, Siddhartha has broken free of the well-worn path of other enlightenment seekers and is blazing his own. “Siddhartha learned new things with every step along his path, for the world was transformed and his heart was enchanted.” (Hesse, 41) Siddhartha was given a head start by his father, the Brahmin, but now he is past that. His intellectual and spiritual well-being is more advanced than any of those who tried to teach him, simply because he wasn’t afraid to continue his journey without them. Siddhartha is just beginning to understand the cycle of life, but a beginning nonetheless. Nothing can hold him back now that he has this realization of personal truth.

            Now that Siddhartha has chosen to trust himself on his own spiritual journey, many twists and turns of fate await him. His inward journey is going to be rough, and there is no promise that it will come out in his favor. Siddhartha is in the middle of the longest battle he will ever fight, the battle of life. Siddhartha is off to a good start, but before long he is tempted into the life of the child people by a beautiful young woman named Kamala. Siddhartha spends many years with Kamala, and before he is even ready to admit it he finds himself an old man, swept up in a life of greed and false pleasure. Siddhartha numbs himself with drinking, gambling, and money. He has become the very thing he meant to avoid. Depressed and alone, Siddhartha feels that he no longer deserves his life. Nirvana is so far away that he will never accomplish it. What Siddhartha doesn’t realize is the real benefit of all this. It may not have improved Siddhartha as a seeker of spiritual guidance, but that was never really what he wanted anyway. There was no setback in his life, for all the things he did were necessary. If he had not gorged and taken part in the lives of the child people, Siddhartha could have never seen the errors in those ways. By sampling a different outlook on life, Siddhartha has learned a lot about himself. Siddhartha never could have discovered those aspects of himself if he didn’t try them first, and by doing so he advanced greatly in spirit. He has become independent through the indulgence of the child people. “He shared their life, which was governed not by thoughts and insights but by drives and desires; he felt like one of them.” (Hesse, 108) The journey Siddhartha has been enduring since he first began it as a young Brahmin is coming to an end. He has seen all aspects of the world he wished to, and he is close to himself in spirit. He is leaning to understand his own emotions. When Siddhartha’s son left, he initially felt sad and alone. But, after some guidance from the wise ferryman, Siddhartha has learned to take the world as it is. He left his father when he was very young, and his own son has done likewise. The sadness he feels is natural, and like all things, will soon pass. Siddhartha has finally learned to comprehend and admit to the world he lives in. “Slowly blossoming, slowly ripening within Siddhartha, was the realization and knowledge of what wisdom and the goal of his long search really was. It was nothing but a readiness of the soul, a capacity, the secret art of being able at every moment, without ceasing to live, to think the thought of Oneness, to feel Oneness and breathe it in.” (Hesse, 109) Siddhartha is at peace with the world. He has learned to love everything that the universe has offered to him, and he knows he can’t change his own destiny. Siddhartha is just along for the ride of life. There is no way to change the outcome, because it has already been determined for him. Siddhartha’s life is his own, but his actions are already defined. It has taken him more than forty years to finally admit the one thing he has been trying to settle his entire existence: enlightenment cannot be forced. His Nirvana is waiting for him, and no matter how long he fasts and meditates, he would be no closer to it than he would be by doing the opposite. His truth has been right in front of him the entire time, all he had to do was accept it. Finally, after everything Siddhartha has been through, he realizes that he never needed to go anywhere to find peace. Enlightenment was always inside him. A spiritual path was required nonetheless, but it was only his own conscious that was holding him back from Nirvana. Siddhartha has come to terms with himself and the universe. He knows that he is no different from any other thing, living or dead, which resides inside himself and everything he has ever known. The past is the past, the future is its own entity. All beings are effected by each other, and each one has its own final destination. To spend a lifetime trying to change that is pointless. All things are the way they are for a reason. Nothing is wasted, and everything has a purpose no matter how insignificant it seems to be. Siddhartha has completed his role within the ongoing play of the universe. “In this hour Siddhartha ceased to do battle with fate, ceased to suffer. Upon his face blossomed a gaiety of knowledge that is no longer opposed by any will, that knows perfection, that is in agreement with the river of occurrences, with the current of life, fill of empathy, dill of fellow feeling, given to the current, part of the Oneness.” (Hesse, 114) Siddhartha has achieved Nirvana through one simple moral: be happy with what you have, because what you really want is coming. Never try to avoid fate, because fate is inescapable. Learn to be happy without sacrifice, and enlightenment will come. This is the ultimate truth, and Siddhartha’s final attainment of life. Happiness is not given, only accepted.

            In the end, Siddhartha breaks free from his circle of life and his soul is released from his body. With no desire, no need, and no want, Siddhartha is free from himself. His own restrictions and boundaries have been broken. His happiness has been found. Siddhartha is a hero, a guide in the circle of life, and an internal crafter of the soul. What Siddhartha did isn’t something that can be followed step by step, it varies from person to person. Siddhartha cannot lead someone to their destiny any faster than that person can do it for themself. The individual journey to the center of every man and woman’s soul is a lone road. No one fully achieves happiness or true intellect, because those principals are always ongoing ethics of life. Once a person surrenders themselves to the idea that they are perfect and all knowing, they are probably as far from it as they will ever be. Life is a mystery, all that is left is to let it come out the way it was meant to be. Trying to change fate is vain and futile, because ultimately the fates of the other beings around it will push that fate back into place. There is too many destinies, all working together with incomprehensible precision that to try and avoid the flow of life will leave the soul deprived and sad. Avoiding the inevitable is wasted energy, and in due course it will only hurt the abstaining entity.  Happiness is, and always has been, inside. Material possessions meant to simulate the feeling of joy distract the body from the aching soul and are a temporary fix to the pain. There is no direct line to happiness, and it is not always found. Through the abyss of hardship, sadness, and resentment, a soul may find its own Nirvana. Enlightenment is a delicate denomination, and is often contradictory. All babies are born carrying death, sin is passed through by grace, and truth is a matter of perspective. The allusion of time as a perfect reverence will bring the destruction of the self, and the ultimate agony of an unending reign of sadness towards the soul. Patience, is the only virtue necessary for happiness. They go hand in hand. Once this is understood the rest will come naturally. Nirvana, the ultimate enlightenment and true happiness of the soul, can only be achieved if it is meant to be, and if the seeker is sincerely ready. The precincts of fear will hold the soul back, but only enough to keep what is right in front of it just out of reach. Those who are not afraid can take it for themselves, it is not a matter of strength. Siddhartha, a true producer of his own happiness and a leading spiritual adventurer, has mastered this concept. Siddhartha is a completed soul, and an impeccable model for mankind’s eternal desire to know. 

Blog Post #35

Clouds of War

Heartache, misery, endless tears
Unheard cries of a broken heart
The days, the month, all of the years
Since our home was torn apart

I never meant to leave you alone
I never meant to make you cry
You're in my heart down to the last bone
It was never easy saying goodbye

I hear words of love you whispered to me
Though it seems like forever ago
I close my eyes only to see
In a starry night, your eyes glow

They couldn't hear your desperate scream
Do they know what does it mean?
To be so young and have a dream
Just like you my glorious queen

I never meant to leave you fatherless
Never wished to see your heart bleed
But clouds of war are just so merciless
It rains death on flowers and weeds

Don't you cry my baby girl!
Your loving dad is always here
Tears on your cheeks like precious pearls
Please don't you cry, my dearest dear



Samah Kalakh (Samah Ahmed Kalakh, Kuwait)

Blog Post #34

As the story of Siddhartha comes to an end, a lot is played out through the last few chapters. Siddhartha learns to live with loss, and to be happy with the completeness of the world. His understanding of life and death is full, and he no longer feels the need to find inner peace. He has discovered that by leaving his father he has caused his own son to leave him, and the circle of despair continues. There is nothing more he can do. Like a river, life flows on. Emotions of hate and sadness are anchors that will pass, like all things. Happiness is personal, and what Siddhartha wanted for his son was obviously not what he wanted. He must let him go out of love. "Water seeks out water; youth seeks out youth." (Hesse, 99) His son, made of his own flesh and blood, will also have a desire for Nirvana. It is up to him to find it for himself though. Siddhartha knows that inner peace cannot be taught.
In the end, Siddhartha finally achieves enlightenment and breaks the circle of life. "This countenance appeared unchanged once the depths of the thousandfold immensity had closed again beneath its surface; he was silently smiling, smiling quietly and gently, very kindly perhaps, perhaps mockingly, precisely as he had smiled the Sublime One." (Hesse, 126)  He has realized the one important thing, the only happiness he has ever seeked, and now he is free. To dwell on emotions and material possessions is not the true way to live, and Siddhartha has seen all of what he was meant to do. He is left with a life that he didn't need. Siddhartha spent so much time and energy trying to open the door to the spirit world that he almost forgot it wasn't there. Happiness was always right in front of him, but he had been scared to see it. Siddhartha finally gives up on his journey that he has been trying too hard on and simply accepts the world for what it is. Not just all the goodness and wealth the world has to offer, but the pain and sadness in it too. It is an endless circle with no beginning and no end. Siddhartha loves everything that has, is, and will happen. Nothing is completely sacred of sinful, and all babies carry death. The process of life has no direct path, but everything is effected by it. Once Siddhartha discovers that he has no control over anyone's destiny let alone his own, he has achieved complete Nirvana.