NAMASKARA: PLEASE HELP ALL YOU CAN - THEY ARE HUMANS TOO .......
People around the world were shocked to see the photograph of poor Aylan Kurdi washed up dead on a beach at Bodrum, Turkey. His father returned to Syria to bury his wife and two sons. His grief is unimaginable. Within a few days 350 000 signatures in the UK were amassed to demonstrate public support for the refugees; UK government policy changed. A single image can change the world. I too have witnessed the plight of the Syrian refugees - women and children pleading for sustenance on the streets, their menfolk dead. Whose heart does not weep when witnessing such tragedy. Please help all you can. The Archbishop of Canterbury gave strong leadership on this issue by stating that this was our moral duty. It is ironic that in a secular state, the church and the populace, independently and in concert are leading the way ahead of government.
Similarly Hindus for millenia greet another and deities by raising their hands with the palms pressed together, the fingers pointing upwards and bow their heads, while saying the sanskrit word Namaskara. This symbolism reflects a fundamental precept of Hindu dharma, namely that there is no distinction between the divine and human beings. This was extended, analysed and clarified by Sri Adi Shankaracharya into Advaita philosophy.
Flowing from Namaskara, the symbol of mutual respect comes the concept of Seva - selfless service to man is equivalent to selfless service of the divine. Swami Vivekananda wrote extensively on this concept. Grandparents perform seva of the soiled newborn because the child is an incarnation of Lord Krishna. In the Alwar tradition of Tamil Nadu in India, an untouchable prays outside the temple until god calls him in. The priest hoists the devotee on his back, holds his legs with his own hands and brings him in to the sanctum sanctorum; the devotee becomes Thirupanalwar. The analogy with the Syrian refugees is clear and unambiguous - let us bring them in to the sanctum sanctorum of Europe on our backs. To help is to be divine. Let us remember this message on Janmaashtami, the birthday of Lord Krishna.
W H Auden (1907 - 73) wrote Refugee Blues in 1939, the eve of the Second World War - the words are still applicable today :
Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us.
Once we had a country and we thought it fair,
Look in the atlas and you'll find it there:
We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.
In the village churchyard there grows an old yew,
Every spring it blossoms anew:
Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that.
The consul banged the table and said, ‘If you've got no passport you're officially dead’:
But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.
Went to a committee; they offered me a chair;
Asked me politely to return next year:
But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day?
Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said;
‘If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread’:
He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.
Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky;
It was Hitler over Europe, saying, ‘They must die’:
O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind.
Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin,
Saw a door opened and a cat let in:
But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews.
Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay,
Saw the fish swimming as if they were free:
Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.
Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees;
They had no politicians and sang at their ease:
They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race.
Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
A thousand windows and a thousand doors:
Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.
Stood on a great plain in the falling snow;
Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro:
Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.
W. H. Auden
Hare Krishna, Hare Aum

A song by Marcos Vidal - translated from Spanish:
" Have you ever looked into the eyes of a mother who doesn't know where look because she is heartbroken "
Has mirado alguna ves a los ojos de una madre
que ni sabe donde mira porque acaba
de perder el corazon
has oido alguna vez como llora un niño pobre
por que el hambre cuando aprieta
ya hasta deja de ser hambre y es dolor
has sentido alguna vez lo que siente un prisionero
cuando ya sus piernas no pueden andar
de puro miedo
y tu escuchas su clamor
y hasta sientes su dolor mientras gritan voceando
no te quepa duda alguna te estan llamando
has pensado alguna vez lo que sufre aquel que ama
cuando la unica respuesta que recibe es tu rechazo
y nada mas
has sentido alguna ves un escalofrio extraño
como si alguien te llamase a la distancia
y no puedieras escuchar
no lo dudews nunca mas
y no intentes evadirlo
pues te hara sentir pobre miserable y perseguido
y si miras hacia atras
hasta puede que quiza le descubras vigilando
no te quepa duda alguna te esta buscando

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqSulR9Fymg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amyVeo2vGTg
I hope you enjoy it while seeing the images

" Your shots as always, fascinating. I could recognise some of the places you went to in Istanbul, such as the Hagia Sophia museum and the bridge over the Bosphorus. I particularly liked the black and white shots of human portraits, they tell the story of life. When you chose colour for the ceilings, you brought contrast of thousands of colours in single shot, well done. The short depth of field on prayers in the mosque worked beautifully, as spiritually this is exactly how you feel in a mosque, well concentrated on your own thing, and surrounded by a small halo of Allah’s attention. The rest of the world and what is happening around you does not register. Prayer time is a direct link to the creator, hence the name Salah (or Salat) which means a link.
As always I could go to a greater length for each of your lovely shots, and I must admit I am green with envy, well done. "
Mr. Khalid Amer, Cardiothoracic Surgeon, UK



Visiting Anit Kabir - the massive mausoleum and museum complex for Mustapha Kemal Ataturk was not high on my list of priorities. However, I was really pleased to go there as it gave me an insight into the man, the Anatolian people, the independence struggle and the birth and development of a nation. The sarcophagus is huge and housed in an open building. Outside guards are ritually changed with much goose stepping, to the delight of visiting school children. The image of the Anatolian woman: tough, resilient, self sacrificing is depicted very well in paintings and tableaux in the museum. No wonder Ataturk moved the capital away from Istanbul ( that had been overrun by the Entente ) to Ankara. Personal memorabilia including clothes, wine glasses (He drank heavily and died of Cirrhosis - perhaps he had witnessed too many horrors during the war of Independence) and even a rowing machine are displayed. Ataturk was clearly a master military strategist, with a facility for the rousing phrase to motivate troops and the whole populace.
Iconic Istanbul sights greet the visitor crossing the Uskudar to Eminonu ferry. In 15 minutes you make an inter continental journey from Asia to Europe. There are equally startling sights on the ferry lovers enjoying time together and travellers from a multitude of lands, drawn to the megapolis that is Istanbul. Sunset cast the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sofia and Topkapi Palace into silhouette


