RIP Gossipmongers

Take the Tripple Filter Test before you set out to defame others, all you Male and Female Gossipmongers. And … good luck with happiness.

In ancient Greece (469 – 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance who ran up to him excitedly and said,

  “Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?”
“Wait a moment,” Socrates replied. “Before you tell me I’d like you to pass a little test. It’s called the Triple Filter Test.”
“Triple filter?”
“That’s right,” Socrates continued. “Before you talk to me about my student let’s take a moment to filter what you’re going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?”
“No,” the man said, “actually I just heard about it and…”
“All right,” said Socrates. “So you don’t really know if it’s true or not. Now let’s try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?”
“No, on the contrary…”
“So,” Socrates continued, “you want to tell me something bad about him, even though you’re not certain it’s true?”
The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.
Socrates continued. “You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter – the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?”
“No, not really…”
“Well,” concluded Socrates, “if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?”
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. (Ephesians 4:29)

10 Things I Dare You To Believe In If You’re Going Through A Difficult Time Right Now

Flickr, ▓▒░ TORLEY ░▒▓Last year was an exceptionally difficult year. It’s the kind of year that after you make it through, you think, “Well, I can make it through anything.” The losses were brutal, untimely, and sometimes lasting. The pains came in multitudes, and often. The reasons to cry seemed plentiful whilst the reasons to…


Let’s talk gossip.

I mean the psychology of gossip.


Why do people gossip? Obviously, out of boredom, jealousy, envy perhaps…

But habitual gossipers should know a few things:

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Elder Abuse

images (1)  I never imagined I would be taking up the issue of elder abuse so passionately, till life threw up a challenge.

Following my father’s recent death, my mom’s emotional well being has become a serious concern.

I did my research. And here is what I learned… World-Elder-Abuse-Awareness-Day

Verbal, emotional or psychological abuse can range from name calling or giving the “silent treatment” to intimidating and threatening the individual. When a family member behaves in a way that causes fear, mental anguish or emotional pain or distress, the behavior can be regarded as abusive.
Psychological abuse involves any type of coercive or threatening behavior that sets up a power differential between the older adult and her family member. It can also include treating the older person like a child and isolating the person from family, friends and regular activities-through force, threats or manipulative behavior.
Violence, abuse and neglect toward older individuals are signs that the people involved need help immediately.

6472442_f260 Psychological abuse wreaks mental anguish by means of threats, humiliation, fear, manipulation, or other cruel conduct, inflicted via verbal or nonverbal communication cues. It is the systematic perpetration of malicious and explicit nonphysical acts against an elder. Examples include harassment, scolding, insults, denigration, and controlling.

Interfering with decision making, making false accusations, and controlling the individual’s freedom can effectively destabilize the elder and lead to isolation.
Although there is no single pattern of psychological abuse, it is reported that 90% of perpetrators of elder psychological abuse are family members.
Typically, the perpetrator is a highly stressed close relative.

If you suspect that an older person is being abused or neglected, Don’t let your fear of meddling in someone else’s business stop you from reporting your suspicions. You could be saving someone’s life.

The Parents

Sindhu S.:

Life is a riddle…

Originally posted on Carter Library:

Morning_sun_coffee_newspaper_table_590Today, my mother is dead 13 years. One of the last things I promised her was that I would look after her husband. “When I’m gone,” she said, “he will have nobody.”

A few years later I was sitting in my mother’s kitchen, in her vacant chair, having coffee with her husband. I remember it was about nine in the morning and he was telling me how he needed some help in the house. “I had me an old n***** woman once …” he began, and I set my coffee cup hard on the table. He dipped his head, laughed, and tapped me on the arm. “Oh kid, lighten up,” he said, “I don’t mean nothin’.” A few minutes later he offered me a Little Debbie snack cake and told a joke. “There was this n***** …” the joke began. I said, “Knock it off, or I’m leaving.” He kept…

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Would You Say That to a Man?

Sindhu S.:


Originally posted on Of Means and Ends:


“I’m not going to apply for the job because I want you to get it.”

I was in my mid-20s and a promotion opened up in my division at work and I planned to apply for it. Given the hierarchy in our department, one male coworker and I were the natural ones to consider for the job. When the topic came up, that’s what he said to me: “I’m not going to apply for the job because I want you to get it.” I don’t remember what I said in the moment, but I remember quietly seething and thinking, “Don’t do me any favors. Go ahead and apply and I’ll still get it.”

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Remembering my father

images (1)April 12, 2015, close to 10.30 a.m, a nurse knocked the door and told me I was called to the Medical Intensive Care Unit of the Medical College Hospital, where my 84-year-old father was undergoing a really painful course of treatment for his diabetes-induced kidney failure and the resultant multiple organ collapse for seven long days. He had earlier been in and out of hospital for over a month.
When the doctor told me that my father had suffered a cardiac arrest a few minutes ago and was no more, all I said was: “So, he has escaped all that pain?”
Did I weep that moment? No.
I felt shockingly relieved that his “torture” was finally over. “Please ask them not to torture me,” his words – between sleep and wakefulness, amid groans two days before he passed on – had left my heart bleeding ever since. And for two painfully-long days, I tried pleading with doctors not to put any more needles into his red, swollen body, with endless needles and tubes sticking out from every possible spot – if they could not administer painkillers or sedatives alongside. They insisted his weak body could not take painkillers and dialysis was the only course of treatment to keep him alive, so they could try and treat him for the urinary/blood infection he had!
I tried to convince them that if administering pain was all they had to offer in the name of treatment for someone on the verge of death – I knew he would go any day, I believe they did too – it was a pointless direction they were heading. They said that was what they HAD TO medically do! It made me feel so USELESS.
The last time he spoke to me cheerfully was a month and a half ago, when he was unwell, in a hospital bed, but in a better condition. Back then, he had many bad days, but definitely some good days. His face lit up and his arms closed me in as he lay there exhausted and in pain but conscious. His lips spoke clearly and lovingly.
“See, my little daughter is here, my little daughter is here.”
The affection in those words was priceless. It made me realise that he too saw me as I really were. I had never ever grown beyond the five-year old me mentally. Though caught in a 45-plus body, my soul forever remained scared, stranded, lost, as confused as I used to be at the age of about four or five.
Achan (Dad), if you can read this or hear my soul speak, I want to say; I am really truly sorry for the many times I have disappointed you perhaps, disobeyed you, disgraced you. But now you also can see-I hope-I was LOST, each time, every time I did something wrong, inappropriate. I was only trying to fit in initially, then break free, desperate to find myself, feel accepted, loved the way you did love me when I was the tiny girl you walked to the temple YEARS ago.
Please guide me, drop hints in my dreams, maybe we can still communicate, telepathy, some signs, clues, influence my thoughts somehow. I need you to tell me when I am wrong, stop me before I mess up things, people. I still do not know which path to walk, when to stop walking, when to sleep, when to wake up, when to weep and when to laugh. I am still your little girl, I need you, every wakeful moment, and other times.
We will sit down and have a long chat someday, when my time comes to leave this body and meet you, at leisure. Then, I will explain, every wrong thought I ever had, every wrong word I ever uttered and every wrong turn I ever took in my life’s journey. I know you will understand and forgive me, unconditionally, as you always do. Till then, stay close, stay safe, stay happy. Love you achan…