"Baal Ho"

No matter what happens, just be confident and go on...

Often used, somehow this does not sound convincing enough when faced with battles on four fronts with inadequate planning,unfamiliar resources and no proper command structure. True, exams once again and all four subjects akin to a battle.

Law school seems to have become the place where every trimester outdoes the one preceding it in terms of weariness and just plain apathy towards the state of things, particularly the exams. And invariably, the results have followed up with an inverse relation to the degree of apathy.Sounds scary, especially when this is just the 3rd out of 15 trimesters. Hopefully, this is a cycle of 3 trimesters and next year will again start on a good note.

In my high school, we had a word "baal" that was used discriminately in these kinds of situations.Everything was baal. A word that was applicable to all situations, it is hard to define, but roughly, it is something like a damn care attitude with an idea that life will go on, despite the current problems. More than a word, it was something that was felt and thus understood without the necessary to limit it to a narrow definition.

I guess, it was just lived.

Looks like my current exams are going the "baal"way.
As would have been said in high school, still the same, try your best and the rest is still "baal ho".

Neruda's "Your Laughter"

Such beautiful lines of Neruda's translated works, makes me wish I knew spanish so that I could understand them in their full flow and passion.

Your Laughter

Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.

Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.

My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.

My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.

Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.

Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.

Pablo Neruda