To remind me....

I love you not only for what you are,
But for what I am when I am with you
I love you not only for what you have made of yourself
But for what you are making me
I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
I love you for passing over all my foolish and weak traits,
That you can't help but see
I love you for drawing out into the light my beauty,
That no one else had looked quite far enough to dim
I love you.

The wedding preps finally caught up with me yesterday - Cried thrice - only knowing the juggler is at the end of it makes it worthwhile!

American History X

The dichotomy of American History fascinates me - on one hand, there was this influx of immigrant Europeans trying to retain their way of life in a new land and on the other, they denied the same right to the African slaves.

I read 'Cane River' by Lalita Tademy  which is a fictionalised account of her family's slave history and the difficult choices they face - the book ends in the early 1930's. Now halfway through 'The Help' by Kathryn Sockett, which talks about black maids in the 1960's at the time of desegregation.

 In the help, the crux so far is black women raising white children for them to become the mistresses in turn. In Cane River, the light skinned move to different towns to deny the african roots, mothers/children are sold to different areas so the owner's offence is not in the face of the family everyday - making you wonder all those generations of history which are untraceable.

Is this also what makes the US so great - the lack of history making it easy to overcome cultural taboos?

In India, with the caste system and general knowledge of where you come from makes it impossible for many people to knuckle down and embrace change - stagnating the country as a whole - we have a mindset to follow, revere people  - thus moving from royalty to dynastic politics - choosing the same name again and again as a route to familiar. 

It seems that the very things that make a culture proud are the same that can be a pitfall - which I suppose  is the root of the saying 'Pride comes before a Fall'!