named my blog black and white heart,
many wondered what it meant.
how can a blood-red heart be black and white,
how, ask me how.
when there is love for even subtle, generally-ignored things like a crumpled autumn leave,
when there is sympathy and empathy towards the weaker beings,
when there is a zest to know why one has to be strong while another has to be weak,
when there is the kindle flame deep inside, burning only to seek truth, when there are questions burning to be fired at the injustices of the world,
when there is this void of unknowable knowledge, as to why there has to be so much suffering in the world,
when there is this herculean rage inside, to bring down the traitors of humanity,
when there is a special respect for women,
when there is again a murderous rage inside, for how most men treat women,
where there is angst to show people how aberrant us human lives have turned,
when there is this restlessness and immensely overwhelming pain looking at how we humans sabotage our own well being,
what else do I see but the colors – white and black,
which form all world for me,
every speck of sand,
every breeze of air,
and ever drop of the sea.
swinging between extremes,
my heart is but black and white,
void and veracious.