"...Teach him that all men are not just, all men are not true, but teach him also that for every scoundrel, there is a hero; for every selfish politician, there is a dedicated leader; teach him to learn to lose, and teach him also to enjoy winning; teach him to sell his brawn and brain to the highest bidder, but to never put a price tag on his heart and soul."
-- Abe Lincoln in a letter to his son's headmaster.
How perspectives change in intensity and never in essence... I read Abe Lincoln's letter 20 years back. And I learnt something then. Or maybe I didn't. Today after I happened to stumble across a yellow, two decade old hand-written worn-out note that I wrote to myself, I realize something. And that is : For every time my heart pushes my brain to revolt, to despair, to criticize bitterly, to vent angst towards God-knows-who, there are moments of silent discourses between me and I, Every time. And every time my heart tells my brain to calm down, to feel good for there is Hope. And it is Hope that makes a true man. That inspires me to try to be a true man, tomorrow perhaps. I guess it will inspire you too, long after I shall be gone.
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