She is everything in life

"She is in the house. She is at turn after turn... She is behind me. She is in front of me. She is in my bed. She is on path after path, and I am weak from want of her. O heart, there is no reality for me other than she, she, she, she, she, she in the whole of the reeling world."

~ Amaru, an Indian poet. Source: Amarusataka, The Hundred Stanzas of Amaru.

Any feminine being; things personified as feminine; a female person; that woman, or any woman for that matter, previously mentioned or implied: is she. She is mother, sister, wife, daughter, lover, sweetheart, mistress, servant, and a whole many other possibilities; limited only by the imagination of men, and even women.

She is, mistreated, manipulated, exploited, abused, loved, cherished, relished, prized, treasured, worshiped, hated, despised, disliked; as depending upon the whims and fancies of men, and even some women. Nevertheless; and regardless of all of the above, she is she; she will be she; irrespective of all forms of conceptions and categorising that together embrace: she - whether predictable or existent.

Graceful and yet remarkably playful, intensely passionate, and at times hinting of divine transcendence, she offers poignant glimpses into the many faces of she. She is mystery, a history of adventure. She lived in the past, lives in the present, and will live in the future. She is, ever present.

Without she, there is no life: She is creator, saviour, and destroyer. She is a great word to know. She can be noun, pronoun, nominative, possessive, singular, or plural.

She has as many uses, and as many faces, curbed only by our creativity, enterprise, and inventiveness.

Scarce

What would men be, without a she? Scarce, I would say, mighty scarce. She is a friend of mind. She understands me, man. The pieces I am, and gather them and give them back to me, in all the right order.

It is indeed good to know that we got she - a woman - who is a friend of our mind. What is more important and needs to be understood is she possesses a mind that is, cleaner than that of a man's; because, as befitting the feminine, she changes it more often. Frailty, thy name is she. She has some absurd and amusing - at times comical - qualities. For instance, as a girl, she has to make love to a man to hold him; but after marriage, she has to hold him to make love to him.

At times, she feels that an archaeologist is the best husband she can have: the older she gets, it is likely his interest also will grow, and the more interested he will be.

The nature of archaeologists being, interest in anything old and aged. If she is beautiful, you do not tire looking. If she is extremely attractive, she will excite the hormones. If she is amazing, she won't be easy. If she is easy, she won't be amazing. If she is worth it, men will not give up. If men give up, men are not worthy.

Meaning

The truth is, we may be right or wrong about any matter, mundane or supra-mundane; but she is, always right. She may be mislead, misinformed, misguided, unclear, and even downright stupid; but she is never ever wrong.

If it is true that there is a she behind the success of every man; it is equally correct to say that there is another she behind the fall of a successful man.

That is why she can be fun, she can be funny, but she will distrust her whole species, for she hates competition. Yet, "She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies,

And all that's best of dark and bright; and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes..." said Lord Byron, an English poet and a leading figure in the Romantic movement.

Man has will; but she has her way; and but for her, if she did not exist, all the money in the world would have no meaning.

Money is, meant for her, spent for her. She can be the mother we never had. She can be the sister everybody would want.

She can be the friend that everybody deserves. She can be funny, without being mean. Thus, I do not know a better person than, she. She can come into our life, and leave footprints in our heart; or she can come into our life and leave footprints all over our face. However, beware: if she tells you, she is 20 and looks 16, be sure she is 12.

If she tells you, she is 26 and looks 26, be certain she is very near forty. She is a beauty, if you notice her. She is a charmer, if she notices you.

As to some of their habits: A Frenchwoman, if double-crossed, will kill her rival; the Italian woman would rather kill her deceitful lover; the Englishwoman simply breaks off relations; the Japanese woman would welcome her rival; the Sri Lankan woman, I know not; but be certain, they all will console themselves with another man - for that is she. Men too have queer habits when it comes to evaluating the she.

A man who is a pessimist thinks that all she, are bad; an optimist, on the other hand, is a man who hopes that they are.

Men have misused women; so have women of women and of men. Hence, it is more than a mutual aspect of respect.

History, both known and unknown, is replete with instances of such wonted peculiarities.

You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She may have loved before. She may love again.

But if she loves you now, what else matters? She is not perfect - you are not either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can.

She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart.

So do not hurt her, do not change her, do not analyse her, and do not expect more than she can give.

Smile when she makes you happy. Let her know when she makes you mad. Miss her when she is not there. For she is, she; and she always will be, she.

Poem

Let me end with this poem by David Harkins, a teacher, a speaker, and a facilitator in UK; written as a funeral poem on the death of, she: "You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back, or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her, or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow, because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she is gone; or you can cherish her memory, and let it live on. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back, or you can do what she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love, and go on."

See you this day next week. Until then, keep thinking; keep laughing. Life is mostly about these two activities.

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