MY GRANDMOTHER'S POMEGRANATE

	I was five or perhaps six, but I remember very clearly, that 
	I loved to pick the red seeds of a pomegranate. It was an 	intriguing task, for a little girl my age.
	
	They were laid out in an orderly way, inside a house, surrounded 
	by a membrane which you had to remove, after you had successfully 
	peeled off the outer skin of the fruit.

	The juicy red seeds, were attached to a honeycomb like base, that 
	held them together. 
	Oh  how, I loved to remove one seed at a time from its place and 
	hurriedly put it, into my mouth.  It was a past time, that I would 
	give anything, to enjoy.

	I remember my grandmother; tall and thin but very old and 	beautiful. She used to come to my house, just to give me a bath.  I 	knew, she loved me very much, but when it came to her pomegranates, 	it was another matter.

	She would not part of them, not even for me. 
	In the afternoons, when they, the family, were having their tea, 
	I would make my move, asking her to give me one from the bunch, 
	that was hanging from the ceiling.
	That was, where she used to keep them; but in vain.

	The only thing that would change her mind, was for me to dance 
	and sing, her favorite song.  
	After my performance, down would come the pomegranate and into 
	my little hands.

	The joy and love, she had for me, is so vivid in my memory.  
	She had long fingers, very thin and her hands were like velvet.  
	She would put her arms around me, hug me, with so much love.  
	I remember it, as if, it was yesterday.

	Happy memories, that vividly come back to me, every time 
	I see a pomegranate at the store.  
	The sweet taste of their seeds bring back in my mind, 
	pictures of little hands, picking them out of their honeycomb 
	casings.

	Happy memories of a loving grandmother, who adamantly held on 
	to her treasure, until she got; what she loved the most.  
	A song and a dance from her little granddaughter.

THE EXPERIENCE OF PAIN

		You get pain, when you fall over; taking your first 
		steps or when learning to ride your first bike.

		You get pain, when learning to use sharp objects
		and suddenly, there is blood everywhere.

		You get pain, when you feel your first repremand 
		on your buttocks; if lucky.

		You get pain, from giggling too much; care free
		at your best friend's jokes.
	
		Then. When you get low grades at school.  Failures
		on achievements.  Disappointments, at luck of 
		loyalty of trusted friends.

		Then. When you get gray hair, wrinkles, forgetfulness
		old age and loss of dear ones.

		By now, you should know, what pain is.  It is that 
		little thing in your gut.  Sometimes sharp, sometimes 
		strong and unbearable and sometimes sweet and welcome.

		The cause of it, does not matter.  You are getting 
		it you are tasting it.  Starting the minute you open 
		your eyes, when the doctor gives you, your first slap.

		Would you have understood, if I had called it, with 
		a different name?  Perhaps "LIFE".  I do not think so,
	
		PAIN/LIFE or the other way around; it is the same
		thing.  No one can run away or hide from it.  You 
		will get it, until there is no more of you.

AN AUDIENCE IN NEED

		The desire to share one's presence.
		The desire to share one's thoughts.
		The desire to share one's artistic creations.
		The desire to share one's ability to sing or dance.
		The desire to share one's intellectual powers.
		The desire to share one's inner energies.
		The desire to share one's flesh.
		The desire to share one's belongings.

		On and on, desires that God gave us the ability to 
		develop and amass throughout our lives.  But no matter 
		what we own, there is no hapiness, no aim to go on; 
		unless we share, unless we make public, unless we 
		receive the accolades we deserve; for successfully 
		acquiring these treasures.

		The task to finding the means to communicate to 
		others, to the world, what we possess; is arduous, 
		full of danger, disappointments, loss and heartaches.  
		Very few people have successfully accomplished this 
		task.  Very few have received the honors they deserved.

		God has not revealed to us, who are the people in need 
		of what we have.  Yes I know, there is the immediate 
		family, who can be the beneficiaries of our treasures, 
		but they are with us for, as long as, their development 			lasts. Then, they themselves have to go on to create 
		their own treasures.

		Who are these people, who can be trusted to stay with 
		you for the duration of your life; as friends, spouses 
		or whatever?
		Think hard, how much have you struggled to find someone; 
		who was receptive, who needed you, who was willing to 			recognize the ,worth of your treasures; with no gain on 
		his part.

		That one person, who stayed on and didn't get bored 
		after the interest for your jokes had fizzled out.  
		I know, it is too much to ask of you to tell.  I know 
		that every single one of us, every second of our lives, 
		is aiming for this richly rewarding achievement, the 				unattainable one; finding that desirable needed 
		audience of one or of a thousand.end

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