a sensitive peace lover

8/14/2019 A Sensitive Peace Lover

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A SENSITIVE PEACE LOVER

(A NOVEL FOR THE YOUNGSTERS)

BY

DR. H. SINGH

([email protected])

A SYNOPSIS

mailto:[email protected]

mailto:[email protected]



A LEGENDARY FORWORD FOR A NOVEL THAT COMPLETED IN

MORE THAN 20 YEARS!

FOREWORD

In a troubled world—a world more troubled than I have ever witnessed in my sixty years of

living—Dr. Harmander Singh’s writings remind me that it is possible to live with inner peace,

even in this time of universal apprehension over a declining economy. A Media Consultant,

Education Counselor, poet and author of fifteen books, Dr. Singh has dedicated his life to

studying human nature. As a result of his in-depth studies, he sheds light on how the Law of

Affinity versus the Law of Attraction.

Born into this world with nothing, we would not exist long without caregivers or parents.

Without those who existed before us, now coexisting with us, feeding, sheltering, loving and

protecting us, we would die. As Dr. Singh explains, the Law of Affinity is the natural need in all

of us to coexist, live in harmony as we serve, nurture and love one another. As he further

explains, the Law of Attraction—our human yet often unconscious desire for too much glitter,wealth and recognition can lead to our greed, which often causes us to despise our competitors

and, diminishing our first instinct to coexist, can lead to war.

Although, when we think of war, we often think of young, wounded soldiers on bloody

battlefields, Dr. Singh addresses the war of our spirits—the war of our inner selves where all

wars begin. In addressing our inner wars, he shares from his research and personal experiences

how we can heal ourselves by resorting back to the natural—who we were meant to be and how

we were meant to live.

After meeting Dr. Singh, not in person but through his exceptional poetry while editing an

anthology for the Canadian Federation of Poets for the Anthology of Birth , in which his poem The

Glow of Birth will appear, I am impressed. Not only am I impressed by his insight into the

human spirit but human behaviour.



Especially for those of you who are struggling to obtain inner peace in a discontented world, I

recommend Dr. Singh’s newest book A Sensitive Peace Lover.

Christina Cowling

Published Poet and Author of short stories,

Editor

(http://www.lulu.com/content/4826464)

INTRODUCTION AND KEYWORDS:

Moreover, the novel focuses on the economic depression in the context of depression in

creativity and sensitivity. The keywords involve the bipolar disorders, youth, writer, poet, artist,

novel, sensitivity, handling emotions, schizophrenia, religious mania, stress, ignored-neglected-

talents, social ignorance, wisdom, anguish, gloom, joy, overcoming failures, pills, medicines,

painter, hobbies, delinquency and the awareness about how to handle it, instant lessons for

meditation, loneliness and company, ecological and economic depression, counseling, learning

from experiences, self-felt feelings, imaginations, how to control anger, moods and so on.

(The children, youngsters and even the elders have a global simile in sensitivity, creativity and

curiosity. It is like a healing touch that we give to what we read, reflect, think, feel, ponder and

enjoy so that we may have sensitivity nourishing and nurturing the peace-the feelings of

compassion that shines on when the smiling faces enjoy it.)

We all understand it:

As the sensitivity in the teenage is globally shared, so the readers can be of any background in

culture and tradition as the focus is on the human sensitivity and the role of tides of moods that

one experiences. The children, youngsters and even the elders have a global simile in sensitivity,

http://www.lulu.com/content/4826464




creativity and curiosity. It is like a healing touch that we give to what we read, reflect, think,

feel, ponder and enjoy so that we may have sensitivity nourishing and nurturing the peace that

shines on when the smiling faces enjoy it.

FINAL INTRODUCTION

A young human faces so many troubles in life right from childhood that it can destroy the

creativity present within. Then many go to take medicines, the pills, the excessive use of alcohol

and anger that one feels seems as if one is ignored by the society. The brand new labels of

diseases can make the person to struggle with the self and the society. The polar disorder,

schizophrenia, religious mania, stress, anxiety, compulsive disorders and so many suppressions,

named for such mental health, can give less chance to find the creativity out of the self-

indulgence. However, the main character; who faces all of such intellectual, emotional, social

and thus mental health problems struggles. One day suddenly, he meets his teacher and her

brother. It changes his entire life. The teacher’s brother gets the wisdom that may help for self-

healing. The teacher, who is also a humanistic psychologist and counselor changes the outlook

of the way the society feels and deals with the creative people.

The plant of sensitivity, which during our childhood and teenage seems blossoming like the

plant of the sunflower, we just feel sad, stressful and nervous due to the night of ignorance that

comes in everyday of our life, when we close our eyes to feel as a young and sensitive persons

sensibly. The joy of having the flower seems so high that our nerves ignore the simile that is

present within a human; the sensitivity is like a flower and nervousness is just trying to save the

flower lest the fragrance leaves the feelings. The words are from books but on getting touch of

feelings and fragrance of sensitivity helps these words sprout like a flower. We have so many

flowers that the plants bearing it seems just standing alone in anguish as if waiting for someone

to see it with poet’s eye and compassion. The humanly nervousness is like a plant bearing the



flowers of feelings and fragrance of sensitivity, the glowing of relatedness and belongingness.

Therefore, we seem in need of such a conversation in which a person or group may participate

as being the first, second and or the third person.

This lively conversation in the novel is for our use, as if we use it as counseling and

psychotherapy for children and youngsters, we may find and feel that we need to give the

personal touch to words, meanings and feelings, at such moments the granny’s philosophical

psychotherapy works. The sensitivity is the essence of creativity, the creative thinking and arts.

Thus, in this novel, the main aim is to help the young and the sensitive ones to feel that we can

enjoy our sensitivity in its full richness as in our daily life we have the thoughts, emotions,

feelings, reactions and thus our sensitivity to enjoy peaceful resolution to the struggle within us.

The sensitivity is a healing touch so that we may adjust creatively. In nutshell, it is food for

anyone, who is creative and artistic. A reader of any age, culture and tradition may read and

enjoy it as the sensitivity is globally shared, and the novel focuses on it.

SYNOPSIS-THE DETAILS IN NUTSHELL:

A young man, who is an artist, writer, poet, and thus have many creative arts to exhibit his

brilliance in life fails as he needs someone to understand him to regain what he deserves. He

starts to dwell on the medicines and tries to keep himself busy, which is just making life as if of

work-alcoholic. So, he faces so many troubles in life right from childhood that it could have

destroyed the creativity present within.

Then, as a result, he goes to take medicines, the pills and the brand new labels of diseases

making one to struggle with the self and the society. It is not his story; it is the story of any

human, who is sensitive peace lover.

Such people believe that we should live in the co-existence as if following the law of

affinity The polar disorder, schizophrenia, religious mania, stress, anxiety, compulsive disorders

and so many suppressions, named for such mental health, can give less chance to find the

creativity out of the self-indulgence.

However, the main character; who faces all of such intellectual, emotional, social and

thus mental health problems struggles. He represents our emotional struggle for not only the

creativity, but also the emotional maturity.

While, reading about it, the discussion is as if the conclusions that we may have for

giving ourselves a gift that never loses its smell and fragrance. The fragrance of creativeness



spreads on sharing and we can explore it by doing so, the gift of sharing is thus the fragrance of

unspoken words and feelings.

Eventually, one day suddenly, he meets his teacher and her brother. It changes his entire

life. The teacher’s brother also gets the wisdom helpful for self-healing. The teacher, who is also

a humanistic psychologist and counselor changes the outlook of the way the society feels and

deals with the creative people. It resolves many of the problems that he alone could not have.

One of the examples is the questions that we face when we try to deal with the society.

The society is intellectual as that we know the good personality works. However, the novel

conveys that we can overcome this problem, while remaining creative, sensible, sensitive and

enjoying life to the best possible way, which is the art of peace loving. Let us find how they did

it. With a wonderful foreword from Christina Cowling, the great and ideal Canadian poetess,

writer and editor; it goes on the shelf of lulu: http:// www.lulu.com/content/4826464





EXCERPT I:

I was strolling in the Peace Garden, enjoying its natural beauty at my

home city Surry, near Vancouver, the beautiful city in Canada, while also

deliberating about my studies in USA. My aim, as lifetime dream came true as I

finished my doctorate last year, in education. I did it with specialization in role

and need of counseling in personal life for self-study and learning after leaving

formal education. I always enjoy the results of the research work that some

students leave school after grade 10 and very few go to do post graduation and

doctorate.

It happens to be a golden chance doing the practical research work on

different people without age consideration and their educational and social

background. While I was walking and indulged in my self-absorption enriched

with these thoughts making me feel proud of what I have done, my eyes started

to follow the rows of beautiful flowers; it seemed a very beautiful sight spreading

the mixed fragrance.

It was not allowing my eyes to blink as looking both the flowers and the

rows were so refreshing while going along and doing so.

All of a sudden my eyes noticed the back of a person who was facing the

flowers, I moved ahead and saw a young man sitting alone on the grass and

looking at the plants and flowers; at times he was also gazing at grass and trees.

He was absorbed to such an extent that he was not aware at all about the

surroundings. His gazing made me feel that he was enjoying nature in unusual

way.

I left the place without any thought about his unusual attitude towards

nature, though I wondered if I could do that way. I love nature, but his way was

different and unusual.

Next day, I saw him again, he was writing something; while sitting near

the rows of flowers in the garden. He was sitting alone, though in the solitude,

yet very peacefully. I also enjoyed this humanly feelings of joy in the solitude. I

could grasp the theme and concept of what he was writing, as it seemed clear



that he was writing something about nature and its beauty, as he was looking

flowers, plants and trees.

I usually saw him sitting there enjoying the little things as if these are of

great importance.

Slowly, I began to appreciate him. I liked the way he would look at

everything in the garden. I saw him enjoying even the colorful honeybees,

butterflies and flying birds in the garden. He would watch the butterfly arriving

at the flowers on the plants, sitting on different flowers as if one swims on the sea

of beauty.

The way he would view made me feel as if birds were chirping andsinging songs to the butterflies, plants, trees and everybody present in the

garden.

I started to wonder if the world outside the garden really exited for him.

Whenever I looked the way, he was enjoying and I felt it for the first time that the

garden was something different like a paradise. The garden always remained the

gathering of silent beauty of nature, but now I started to feel that the natural

beauty speaks through everything present there. Gradually, I started to realize

that the small issues, matters and the things were more beautiful than big things

like the small flowers on the plants with butterflies dancing on it.

I also started to forget world outside and he seemed the mystery of the

garden. The mystery is an invitation to explore, and thus I wanted to know more

about him.

For next few days, he did not come to the garden, as I did not see him

anywhere, particularly at his chosen place. I had a heavy workload so I remain

busy in my work so a week passed without my going there. On the weekend, I

went to the garden early in the morning. It was a pleasure to see him there again.

I was feeling curious to know what kind of person he was, so in my own mood

and in a friendly way, I went close to him.

I was very pleased to see what he was doing there, while sitting alone. I

was having a thought of a praising him as I could see him busy with his

paintbrush, colors and drawing papers. I felt more curious to see what exactly he

was making. So, I happily went close to him, I saw him making sketches of the

flowers, mountains and other natural beauties.

He looked at me with friendly smile, I also responded with a deep smile,

the charm of the face. However, I noticed that his paintbrush slowly stopped



working with its original flow. I realized that my presence made him feel

disturbed, just for a simple reason that I knew him because of his presence there,

but for him I was a stranger, as it seemed to me that he had never looked at me

before in the garden.

It made me feel concerned about him while thinking that he was a very

sensitive person because otherwise he should not get distracted. I felt sorry for

this human nature that we may not know those who know us at the same time

when we know many people who know nothing about us, like I was for him. I

left the place without saying anything. While I was leaving, my humanly concern

made me to had another look at him, it was the look that I cared for him.However, I was not aware that his eyes were following my feet leaving the

garden, so my giving him a look to see what it was that we all share as humans

made me a kind of experience that I had no words to express it. While his not

looking at my face, but I could see his face, what I saw was more amazing than

his just feeling disturbed. As I was leaving, he took a deep breath.

It seemed to me as if it was a breath of relaxation and satisfaction. It left an

impression about which I might always wonder if it was the feelings similar to

those that a prisoner would have on the moment that brings a relief on releasing

day from the prison, the end of imprisonment.

“Is it possible that one’s presence may be felt as if it’s a prison? What can it be;

prison of self-indulgence or self-imprisonment, thought or feelings of being in

self-prison while in others’ presence? Why did he behave as a prisoner in my

presence?” I was having many questions, but I tried to ignore it, as interfering in

other’s life does not give any charm to me, though could not ignore it.

These questions were searching answers in my mind as such confusion

may produce agony and anguish in one’s personal life and that is why I cannot

resist pondering over it. I always regret about the sensitivity and its recognition

as nervousness. The nervous person seems to say something but we seem to be

addicted of hearing words to create some bookish meaning.

This addiction of hearing words without feelings seem to work both as the

stimulant and sedative that is why some people believe that the world is the like

the vision of meanings created by the words that one listens, reads and says. The

person keeping good thoughts seem to have a different vision for the garden of

humanity.



I look at the flowers on the plants and fragrance that seems making me

feel sensitive. At this moment, if anybody had tried to talk to me I would have

reacted with nervousness, as the self-felt or personal joy is wordless state of

mind.

The nature gifts us with flowers; but we ignore the plant, branches, leaves,

roots and thorns while plucking the flower just to enjoy its beauty and fragrance

by separating it from its source as a mother, the plant. The joy of having the

flower seems so high that our nerves ignore the simile that is present within a

human; the sensitivity is like a flower and nervousness is just trying to save the

flower lest the fragrance leaves the feelings.The words are from books but on getting touch of feelings and fragrance

of sensitivity helps these words sprout like a flower. We have so many flowers

that the plants bearing it seems just standing alone in anguish as if waiting for

someone to see it with poets eye and motherly feelings. The humanly

nervousness is like a plant bearing the flowers of feelings and fragrance of

sensitivity, the glowing of relatedness and belongingness.

With these thoughts and feelings, I was leaving the garden, not the

thoughts and feelings I had.

After a span of a month, I found him in a garden sitting alone in a pensive

mood. Now, I felt concerned about it because, after all, being a human I’m not

different from him humanly. I went home and narrated the whole story to my

sister, Monica. She is a psychotherapist.

However, she does not analyze only the personality because she believes

in the holistic approach and follows the humanistic psychology as well as

Philosophy as the root of the tree of human existence. I usually prefer to call it

philosophical counseling, rather than psychological.

“You know both sensitivity and sensibility are needed to understand and

comprehend such creative people, otherwise it gets difficult to communicate,”

she replied.

“Yes, you’re right. I fully agree with you,” I said.

“I’d like to see him,” she said.

“We’ll go to the Peace Garden early in the morning; he usually comes and sits at

the same place every morning. I like it,” I said.

We both went to the garden and felt happy to find him there. He was

sketching. His eyes had a strong focus as if gazing, which I had already noticed.



He was focusing on the beautiful sight of the surrounding as if he was having a

vision of it. To my amazement, it seemed different to me, but when I looked at

Monica, I found another wonder because she was smiling as if she had a vision.

“He’s over there, you see he’s sketching. His face seems silent. Isn’t it?” I could

not resist asking her.

“Do you feel that this silent face is expression of anguish?” She said.

The way she looked at me without saying anything made me feel it. We

always seem to repeat words without feeling, the interactions. It was a sharing

that was clearly from the way I asked, having these feelings of the feeling the

pain and sorrows inside that come from the sight that silently convey it. It is likea human cry searching motherly feelings within us.

“Yaw; you know, I strongly feel that it’s agony and anguish. Isn’t it?” I said.

“You’re just looking at the thorns and ignoring the flower. The anguish and

agony are like thorns just protecting the flower of sensitivity. You know the

behavior isn’t the image of idea. The pencil seems bent and short in the water,

but it’s not so. In the water of sensitivity the image of a person seems as if

narrow-minded who is bent into self-indulgence and dwelling on agony. It’s

usually a deep concern about some natural cause like presence of thorns on the

plant bearing the flower that is why we seek sensitivity to feel that flower and the

plant aren’t two things, isn’t it?” She said.

“Well, you’re right. I can understand it though mayn’t fully comprehend it. I just

go and talk to him,” I said.

She silently gave her permission and stood there, while I approached to

talk to him. This time I was having the feelings that terminate the distance that is

present between two humans; I met him like a friend, not as a stranger because

my affinity had all that; to be friends.

“Excuse me please. May I talk to you?” I requested.

“Yes, of course; why not, please go ahead,” he replied.

“Can I see your beautiful sketches?” I said.

“Sure, why not? I’d be pleased to show it to you,” he said with a smiling face.

He gave me all of his sketches. All of these were sensitively artistic and

what it represents was like a message.

“Wow, I really appreciate your sketches representing your feelings and the

message in beautiful colors,” I said while looking at it and appreciating his

sketches.



“Thank you very much,” he said with a smile.

“Are you an artist?” I asked.

This question was simple but I could not know why he took it seriously

and started to ponder over it to feel whether he was really an artist or not. Before

he answers me, I saw an expression of disturbance, the emotional turmoil on his

face expressing, as I felt that he had a deep desire to be an artist. He replied while

looking into my eyes,

“No, I’m not an artist. It’s just my hobby,”

I realized that he was a human of very tender emotions and thoughts.

Therefore, I dropped the idea of questioning him because it seemed to me that hemightn’t like such questions as the pebble of question mark always disturbs the

water of wonder, the exclamation that we have.

“Would you let me know about your hobbies?” He asked.

“Yes why not! I like poetry, gardening, reading good books; and of course

enjoying nature and her creation,” I replied.

“I really feel great that you and I’ve the same hobbies. Nature and its creations

give us the gifts that become our hobbies,” he said with a deep smile of intimacy.

I was contented to see that he was very pleased to know this. His smile

opened the first page, the title of his personality. It was the entitled humanly

expression that does not words. I realized that it was the first and the last thing

that one can communicate as a stranger. While I was thinking, he asked me

politely,

“Can you look at the rose, please?”

“Yes, of course,” I looked at the rose.

“Can you see it with poet’s eye, please?” He said.

“Well, can you tell me, please; what do you mean by poet’s eye?” I said.

“You see the poet’s eye looks at everything like others do, however it feels

differently,” he replied.

“How does it feel differently?” I wanted to know.

“To enjoy the joy, you see it’s different to have moments of joy and having

feelings of joy. Looking at the rose is moment of joy and if you can admire and

enjoy this moment as your personal feeling, it’s poet’s eye. In other words, how

you can enjoy naturally, the joy without effort. You know some people say that

the rose is just a flower. For a poet, it isn’t simply a flower. It’s the beauty of the

plant as any humanly gift or quality is, and its smell is like sharing same as the



sharing of humanly gifts. You see we can always enjoy admiring the common

beauty between the plants and the humans, isn’t it,” he said.

“Well, I don’t have words to admire it that way, though I can understand what

you’re saying and want to convey. I like your feelings and the charm of this

poetically feelings,” I said.

“You know that the poems simply make us forget the words and enjoy the

meanings with feelings enriched with metaphor present in the nature. The

metaphor is the beauty of words that we may enjoy in poems like in the music

and songs. I want to ask if you like poems,” he asked with a smiling face

metaphorically.“Yaw, I like poems. I’m learning to write poems, as you’ve just said enjoying

without forcing our self to enjoy, the poet’s eye making no effort. It’s as an art of

joy to write poems, isn’t it,” I said.

“Would you like to read a poem, though I’d not force you to enjoy it?” He asked

me while looking deep into my eyes as if looking for the self-felt reply.

“I don’t feel forced when I enjoy let me have what you enjoy without forcing

your self. Would you like to do so, please?” I said.

I realized that he was absorbed in his poetical thoughts and imaginations.

“All right, just have this poem to read,” he said.

It was like an asset to add richness to my feelings as I could see him

satisfied as if my reply fulfilled one of his great desires. He gives me a poem

named, “Rose,” and I started to read it. It was very beautiful it said:

‘Rose’

On the bank of the river

Near the city

And outside the buildings

But behind the old trees

I see a rose.

I don’t want to pluck it

Because it attracts me

When it’s in the garden

Near the bank of a river

Flowing with twinkling water,

The rose reminds

Me of the rainbow and



It seems to me

That this rose was

Once standing on the rainbow

Because, I saw its color

In the rainbow and

I feel that

The rainbow has manifested her self

On the earth

In the flowers and trees

Moreover, when I see birdsIn different colors I feel

They’re telling about

The stories of rainbow and

I find the virtue of nature

In the rainbow

It feels like a human being

Yes, Rose is a child of beauty of Rainbow.

“It’s a beautiful expression, I can feel it. Thanks for allowing me to read it,” I said.

“I thank you for reading it and compliment with a feeling,” he replied.

We sat together silently for some moments. I was suddenly shocked when

I saw him taking some tablets and capsules. When he was looking at the

medicines he was sad, but after taking it, he was relaxed as if gone through a

tough time with success. However, it seemed that he had the feelings of running

in wrong lane in the track of his life and creativity.

(End of excerpt. Thanks!)

You see the novel is having focus on the Bipolar disorders, youth, writer, poet,

artist, novel, sensitivity, handling emotions, schizophrenia, religious mania,

stress, ignored-neglected-talents, social ignorance, wisdom, anguish, gloom, joy,

overcoming failures, pills, medicines, painter, hobbies, delinquency and the

awareness about how to handle it, instant lessons for meditation, loneliness and

company, ecological and economic depression, counseling, learning from

experiences, self-felt feelings, imaginations, how to control anger, moods and so

on.

(The children, youngsters and even the elders have a global simile in sensitivity,

creativity and curiosity. It is like a healing touch that we give to what we read,



reflect, think, feel, ponder and enjoy so that we may have sensitivity nourishing

and nurturing the peace that shines on when the smiling faces enjoy it.). Thanks!

The link to the novel remains the same: www.lulu.com/content/4826464

Thanks for reading!

“A Sensitive Peace Lover-A Never Ending Beginning!”

P.S.: It is my first uploading at scirbd. Thanks!



a sensitive peace lover

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