That first law
Some time ago, maybe long ago or maybe even now there was a mountain. Streams flowed down its neck that arched at graceful points. The mountain embraced the rain, as it did the hot lava that flowed periodically from its veins. It stood still, but in its memory remembered it has stood, many years ago, on a place not very far away.
Since that day, it had stood firm, and had become a landmark by which birds and mariners alike set their courses. One day the mountain, felt something different. The land below it was moving. It felt a searing pain rise up through its insides. It knew that the time was ripe. Not a moment was to be lost.
It moved. Aggressively.
Sometimes aggression is good and could have a frequency of “constantly”.
Some time ago, maybe long ago or maybe even now there was a mountain. Streams flowed down its neck that arched at graceful points. The mountain embraced the rain, as it did the hot lava that flowed periodically from its veins. It stood still, but in its memory remembered it has stood, many years ago, on a place not very far away.
Since that day, it had stood firm, and had become a landmark by which birds and mariners alike set their courses. One day the mountain, felt something different. The land below it was moving. It felt a searing pain rise up through its insides. It knew that the time was ripe. Not a moment was to be lost.
It moved. Aggressively.
Sometimes aggression is good and could have a frequency of “constantly”.
The futility of Metaphysics
I have many opinions which I give on this weblog. Most of these (except when it involves a man taking the life of a brother man) are not definite statements and if someone were to argue back, I would be willing to listen. The point being, that most human affairs are conducted on a plane which nothing is definite. Consider the following statements:
1. Krishna, Jesus, Mohammed-depending on your taste- is the supreme God
2. Sin and you shall go to hell
3. There is life after death
4. This land is my land
Now, these are statements which when posed can easily invite a counter argument. So why do we spend so much time and energy expending violence over such statements. Can't we see the cyclical nature of destruction that this will ultimately result in? In addition to the fact that these sentiments are not absolute, they are unimportant. If you were shot by a sniper, would you worry as to the make of the gun, or the ethnicity of the sniper?
Now consider the following statements:
1. Life is not easy and there will be suffering.
2. It is possible for us to identify the cause of this suffering
3. Every man wants to send his children to school.
These are statements, which will bear ripe fruit upon rumination.
Even Jimmy Cliff said, You say the world is round, I say its upside down.
I have many opinions which I give on this weblog. Most of these (except when it involves a man taking the life of a brother man) are not definite statements and if someone were to argue back, I would be willing to listen. The point being, that most human affairs are conducted on a plane which nothing is definite. Consider the following statements:
1. Krishna, Jesus, Mohammed-depending on your taste- is the supreme God
2. Sin and you shall go to hell
3. There is life after death
4. This land is my land
Now, these are statements which when posed can easily invite a counter argument. So why do we spend so much time and energy expending violence over such statements. Can't we see the cyclical nature of destruction that this will ultimately result in? In addition to the fact that these sentiments are not absolute, they are unimportant. If you were shot by a sniper, would you worry as to the make of the gun, or the ethnicity of the sniper?
Now consider the following statements:
1. Life is not easy and there will be suffering.
2. It is possible for us to identify the cause of this suffering
3. Every man wants to send his children to school.
These are statements, which will bear ripe fruit upon rumination.
Even Jimmy Cliff said, You say the world is round, I say its upside down.
Loss of life
Two very violent ways to start the day.
First, I was in the shower singing a tune, in the A minor key, which is a sure sign of the boldness that has crept in me (normally I am content to belt a few numbers in C, then rinse, lather and repeat). I saw this big spider crawling down the shower and up my arm. Now one must be clear that the word “big” is relative. This spider might have been small. But to my brain, which has been repeatedly crawled on by lizards, stung at by bees, droned incessantly on by gnats, the spider was huge enough to obliterate the entire horizon. I knew what I had to do. I killed it. Now, this spider had done me no harm. It just died because I was scared of it. If it had been an alligator, a tiger or even Celine Dion, I would have let it go. So, the lesson for the day is that if we fear, we will squash, maybe kill. A rematch of Mankind v/s Terrorists, even on the same channel, might be well worth watching.
I shook of the evil way in which the day had started. Ignoring black cats and broken mirrors, which is difficult to do in New York, I began to read “Teachings of the Compassionate Buddha” on the subway. The book is very well written and each chapter starts off with words such as, ‘Thus I have heard, at one time when the Lord resided in Deer Park.” But why would anyone attach a totally unnecessary adjective to the Buddha and call him “compassionate”. To increase someone who truly saw and did nothing to a stature decked with human qualities is indeed a wasteful effort.
After this lovely commute, I got into work. My boss ran in (she has forgotten the dignified art of walking) and gave me a long lecture on the many devious ways I was bringing the entire organization down. Unbeknownst to her, I took two deep breaths. Then really let her have it in my own modest manner. To satisfy her is impossible, and I hope for her sake that this is untrue. I don’t fear her anymore and am prepared to take the long walk away in a week or two. But to say that I love her like a human being would be a definite lack in judgment. Hence, the hypothesis that a lack of fear will automatically translate into a blossoming of love now appears to be an erroneous one. The path in between is worthy of consideration and along the way that this blog traverses, will make for an interesting experiment.
Two very violent ways to start the day.
First, I was in the shower singing a tune, in the A minor key, which is a sure sign of the boldness that has crept in me (normally I am content to belt a few numbers in C, then rinse, lather and repeat). I saw this big spider crawling down the shower and up my arm. Now one must be clear that the word “big” is relative. This spider might have been small. But to my brain, which has been repeatedly crawled on by lizards, stung at by bees, droned incessantly on by gnats, the spider was huge enough to obliterate the entire horizon. I knew what I had to do. I killed it. Now, this spider had done me no harm. It just died because I was scared of it. If it had been an alligator, a tiger or even Celine Dion, I would have let it go. So, the lesson for the day is that if we fear, we will squash, maybe kill. A rematch of Mankind v/s Terrorists, even on the same channel, might be well worth watching.
I shook of the evil way in which the day had started. Ignoring black cats and broken mirrors, which is difficult to do in New York, I began to read “Teachings of the Compassionate Buddha” on the subway. The book is very well written and each chapter starts off with words such as, ‘Thus I have heard, at one time when the Lord resided in Deer Park.” But why would anyone attach a totally unnecessary adjective to the Buddha and call him “compassionate”. To increase someone who truly saw and did nothing to a stature decked with human qualities is indeed a wasteful effort.
After this lovely commute, I got into work. My boss ran in (she has forgotten the dignified art of walking) and gave me a long lecture on the many devious ways I was bringing the entire organization down. Unbeknownst to her, I took two deep breaths. Then really let her have it in my own modest manner. To satisfy her is impossible, and I hope for her sake that this is untrue. I don’t fear her anymore and am prepared to take the long walk away in a week or two. But to say that I love her like a human being would be a definite lack in judgment. Hence, the hypothesis that a lack of fear will automatically translate into a blossoming of love now appears to be an erroneous one. The path in between is worthy of consideration and along the way that this blog traverses, will make for an interesting experiment.
Boredom
There is a man hanging from the tree. By his teeth. His arms and legs are flailing in the air. A wise man came and asked him,"What is the meaning of life?" Now the man on the tree wants to show that he is wise. But if he opens his mouth he would fall to the ground and die. If he stays quiet, he cannot give an answer.
What must he do?
He must open his mouth as little as possible, so as to maintain his tenous hold and make strangled sounds (unh unh..), gesticulating for a ladder. This would be the wise thing to do.
I am at work. I too am like the helpless man, instead I stare at a computer screen.
Thsi tree hanging business cannot be good everyday.
There is a man hanging from the tree. By his teeth. His arms and legs are flailing in the air. A wise man came and asked him,"What is the meaning of life?" Now the man on the tree wants to show that he is wise. But if he opens his mouth he would fall to the ground and die. If he stays quiet, he cannot give an answer.
What must he do?
He must open his mouth as little as possible, so as to maintain his tenous hold and make strangled sounds (unh unh..), gesticulating for a ladder. This would be the wise thing to do.
I am at work. I too am like the helpless man, instead I stare at a computer screen.
Thsi tree hanging business cannot be good everyday.
Alien winds of change
Coincidence almighty. I met an aid worker who worked in North Korea today. He said that he or his agency will not bring about any change, the problem requires governmental intervention. But he continues to work there, watching change take place in an alien culture. Good for him and maybe I too can watch a Starbucks open on Mars someday.
On another note here is my new resolution. Push myself to extremes. I fear America has pampered me (I might even say mollycoddled if that’s a word). Once the nicotine is flushed out of my body, I am going to push my body to extremes. Sit in lotus pose for hours at and end. My muscles will cry like the mother of an antihero in a Hindi movie. Even mentally, I plan to push frontiers and talk to strange people boldly. Once I enter this zone I will have in a sense gone beyond death. Or at least my ego will have. Praise, fondness, melodrama, honesty. This sort of stuff should pass me by like a bird passes Superman's cape. Watch out ego. I am going to kick your...but, I fear not, for this can only make me see the nothingness that is my existence.
Coincidence almighty. I met an aid worker who worked in North Korea today. He said that he or his agency will not bring about any change, the problem requires governmental intervention. But he continues to work there, watching change take place in an alien culture. Good for him and maybe I too can watch a Starbucks open on Mars someday.
On another note here is my new resolution. Push myself to extremes. I fear America has pampered me (I might even say mollycoddled if that’s a word). Once the nicotine is flushed out of my body, I am going to push my body to extremes. Sit in lotus pose for hours at and end. My muscles will cry like the mother of an antihero in a Hindi movie. Even mentally, I plan to push frontiers and talk to strange people boldly. Once I enter this zone I will have in a sense gone beyond death. Or at least my ego will have. Praise, fondness, melodrama, honesty. This sort of stuff should pass me by like a bird passes Superman's cape. Watch out ego. I am going to kick your...but, I fear not, for this can only make me see the nothingness that is my existence.
Red is the color of the morning
North Korea has a nuclear bomb. It is imperative that we disarm them. After all, they are the only country in the world with a nuclear bomb. And they are sure to use it, being a part of the axis of evil. They will be the first country in history to have used this horrific device.
One must remember what Jesus said on the Mount, “Why do you perceive the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the wooden beam in your eye?”
On the other hand, assume the theory of comparative halos to be true and Mr. Bush and Mr. Kim Jong II are in the same room. Suppose the lights go off. I am willing to lay a wager on the fact that there will be a ring around Mr. Bush’s head. Mr. Kim Jong has led what must one of the most repressive rules in history. Millions of North Koreans starve due to a lack of basic human rights. No voices are heard beyond the iron curtain. There is an argument growing among NGOs that it is futile to expend aid on North Korea. Aid workers are not allowed to see the poor people their work benefits. They are allowed to meet the beneficiaries, only in the presence of a government official. This makes the entire exercise quite rehearsed and only a fool would deny that he or she ever received aid. Relief workers are understandably quite angry at these secretive methods and say that the only people their money benefits are Mr. Kim Jong II and his immediate family. So they advocate suspending relief work in North Korea and spending donor money more effectively elsewhere.
This is a sensible viewpoint and there is surely little sense in making Mr. Kim Jong II richer than he already is. You don’t feed a dragon gasoline and all that. However, serving the less fortunate must be done with no grudge or doubt in the heart. I do believe that the NGOs should continue work selflessly in North Korea, even if for the very few that benefit due to the trickle down effect. But there must be increased advocacy in the US and the West to apply diplomatic pressure on North Korea to open up. Like every NGO has seen, relief work to be effective has to be a two-pronged effort involving not only local communities, but also local governments.
One nuclear bomb is dangerous. Millions of ticking bombs within North Korea, even more so.
North Korea has a nuclear bomb. It is imperative that we disarm them. After all, they are the only country in the world with a nuclear bomb. And they are sure to use it, being a part of the axis of evil. They will be the first country in history to have used this horrific device.
One must remember what Jesus said on the Mount, “Why do you perceive the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the wooden beam in your eye?”
On the other hand, assume the theory of comparative halos to be true and Mr. Bush and Mr. Kim Jong II are in the same room. Suppose the lights go off. I am willing to lay a wager on the fact that there will be a ring around Mr. Bush’s head. Mr. Kim Jong has led what must one of the most repressive rules in history. Millions of North Koreans starve due to a lack of basic human rights. No voices are heard beyond the iron curtain. There is an argument growing among NGOs that it is futile to expend aid on North Korea. Aid workers are not allowed to see the poor people their work benefits. They are allowed to meet the beneficiaries, only in the presence of a government official. This makes the entire exercise quite rehearsed and only a fool would deny that he or she ever received aid. Relief workers are understandably quite angry at these secretive methods and say that the only people their money benefits are Mr. Kim Jong II and his immediate family. So they advocate suspending relief work in North Korea and spending donor money more effectively elsewhere.
This is a sensible viewpoint and there is surely little sense in making Mr. Kim Jong II richer than he already is. You don’t feed a dragon gasoline and all that. However, serving the less fortunate must be done with no grudge or doubt in the heart. I do believe that the NGOs should continue work selflessly in North Korea, even if for the very few that benefit due to the trickle down effect. But there must be increased advocacy in the US and the West to apply diplomatic pressure on North Korea to open up. Like every NGO has seen, relief work to be effective has to be a two-pronged effort involving not only local communities, but also local governments.
One nuclear bomb is dangerous. Millions of ticking bombs within North Korea, even more so.
Excuse 4
What is a self help book? One that teaches you to improve yourself?
Quite the opposite. A good self help book would be one where it teaches you to forget yourself. (Not your self). Seeing oneself as a part of the entire human race. This way, you can serve other people. If you don’t want to at least you won't have to fear other people or hate them.
Well, I was reading a self-help book yesterday. I picked it up manfully from the bookshelf. I recommend that you read it. It is boring at times, surely repetitive, but unique and novel. Sometimes you need things spelt out for you. And one must pursue any course to get rid of such a nasty thing, one that forms a wall between you and the rest of humanity at all times.
What is a self help book? One that teaches you to improve yourself?
Quite the opposite. A good self help book would be one where it teaches you to forget yourself. (Not your self). Seeing oneself as a part of the entire human race. This way, you can serve other people. If you don’t want to at least you won't have to fear other people or hate them.
Well, I was reading a self-help book yesterday. I picked it up manfully from the bookshelf. I recommend that you read it. It is boring at times, surely repetitive, but unique and novel. Sometimes you need things spelt out for you. And one must pursue any course to get rid of such a nasty thing, one that forms a wall between you and the rest of humanity at all times.
Excuse 3
A farmer had a field on which he grew crops. He also had a potted plant. On some days the plant gave him the tastiest fruit he had ever eaten. On some days the plant gave him fruit that tasted so bitter that he had to throw up. One day, the State Department of Agriculture mandated that the plant be moved to an environment, where it could be observed by many people. The farmer began to think of some other person having the fruit of the plant. He didn't want anyone to eat the tasty fruit. He liked the plant so much and had grown so used to it that he didn't want anyone else to eat the bitter fruit also. He wanted to nurture that plant and watch it grow under his care. He also knew what a rare plant he had once owned and how difficult it would be for him to get such a plant again. Even if he ever saw such a plant again, he would never be able to afford it. Or he would be too scared to ask the plant's owner, out of the fear of rejection of his desire.
One day he heard that someone else might have sampled a taste of the plant's fruit. It drove him quite mad.
A farmer had a field on which he grew crops. He also had a potted plant. On some days the plant gave him the tastiest fruit he had ever eaten. On some days the plant gave him fruit that tasted so bitter that he had to throw up. One day, the State Department of Agriculture mandated that the plant be moved to an environment, where it could be observed by many people. The farmer began to think of some other person having the fruit of the plant. He didn't want anyone to eat the tasty fruit. He liked the plant so much and had grown so used to it that he didn't want anyone else to eat the bitter fruit also. He wanted to nurture that plant and watch it grow under his care. He also knew what a rare plant he had once owned and how difficult it would be for him to get such a plant again. Even if he ever saw such a plant again, he would never be able to afford it. Or he would be too scared to ask the plant's owner, out of the fear of rejection of his desire.
One day he heard that someone else might have sampled a taste of the plant's fruit. It drove him quite mad.
Excuse 2
I saw Zadie Smith, authoress of White Teeth, reading from her latest book “The Autograph Man.” First emotion I experienced on seeing her was one of deep and profound love. She is the type of girl I would feel scared of speaking to at a bar, but might speak to at a bookstore, just to seer what she would pick up to read. In her reading, I was struck by two things: her complete lack of middle class virtues such as needless modesty and her complete confidence.
She imitated accents with utter abandon. When she read out certain sentences, she began with, “Now dig this, its really good”. She even said that she wrote a particular part on drunkenness to enter a select club of British writers, who have written of Bacchanalia so well (it was good, but I must say, the best I have read is P.G. Wodehouse’s Gussie Fink Nottle distributing prizes at the Market Snodsbury grammar school.)
She wasn’t bragging. Just stating it matter of fact. I felt I was at a recital of Bob Dylan doing Highway 61 revisited in the sixties. Confidence, not conformity.
In fact, if one doesn’t feel supremely confident about creating something, then one shouldn’t begin it at all. This is the only way a writer or a musician can remain honest to his or her self and the audience at large.
I saw Zadie Smith, authoress of White Teeth, reading from her latest book “The Autograph Man.” First emotion I experienced on seeing her was one of deep and profound love. She is the type of girl I would feel scared of speaking to at a bar, but might speak to at a bookstore, just to seer what she would pick up to read. In her reading, I was struck by two things: her complete lack of middle class virtues such as needless modesty and her complete confidence.
She imitated accents with utter abandon. When she read out certain sentences, she began with, “Now dig this, its really good”. She even said that she wrote a particular part on drunkenness to enter a select club of British writers, who have written of Bacchanalia so well (it was good, but I must say, the best I have read is P.G. Wodehouse’s Gussie Fink Nottle distributing prizes at the Market Snodsbury grammar school.)
She wasn’t bragging. Just stating it matter of fact. I felt I was at a recital of Bob Dylan doing Highway 61 revisited in the sixties. Confidence, not conformity.
In fact, if one doesn’t feel supremely confident about creating something, then one shouldn’t begin it at all. This is the only way a writer or a musician can remain honest to his or her self and the audience at large.
Excuse 1
There have been no postings on this page for 4 days. I can post 4 entries today so that things will appear the same. Is it the same? Well, my wastepaper basket appears different now than 4 days ago, so I guess it is not the same.
But, as Gandhi said, it is never too late to make amends (even though he recommended confessing before sunset). In my experience, it is never too late to make excuses. And I have more than one excuse to put forth on the table.
The first being that I am working two jobs now…one in the morning and one in the evening. The two jobs are quite different. One of them must rank as the most boring place on the world. My most hectic duties there are possibly figuring out how many different ways I can lick many envelopes closed in less than a few hours. Not that I mind. I truly believe in dignity of labor, and I admire the fact that Gandhi insisted that everyone cleans their own and public toilets. But if I feel disappointed, it is because this is a classic example of expectation mismatch. In the interview they promised Godzilla. They show me a small wall lizard everyday. Another thing that causes to be swallow my sesame chicken without biting is the hope I will choke on it before I have to see another second of phoniness. Everyone is so polite to each other. Bad things never happen. Do you remember that form you signed when you joined? The one where you promised that you would never leave Disneyland? In spite of the fact that it is a most unchallenging environment, everyone in the office walks very fast (some even run to the fax machine) to show how busy they are. After they sit at their desks they surf the web. It is all quite painful. Some people even apologize for coming in late saying, “I can’t wait to wake up every morning and come in to work, oh those nights, so full of agony.” I go in resolving not to work, if possible (I never do one seconds work more than what is necessary). So I guess, I too am phony every 15th and 30th, the days we get paid.
The other job is at the other end of the spectrum. There is not a minute to breathe. Run, Run, Run. Think, think, think. Harder, faster, stronger. People and things in this office are like Darwin on speed. Things change continuously. Even the sun rises and sets more than once a day. People look unhappy. They work hard. They complain incessantly. I like this place more.
Though there is one common factor between the two jobs. The fear factor. Your boss will read what you have done and surely change it (this is one reason that the first drafts of the Taj Mahal weren’t put before them). You believe you have done the best you can. Then your boss changes everything. Not because she has to. Only because she can. This is not whining about something normal. If this is normal, then it is a scary thought. Does such a large portion of humanity run every morning to work, so full of concern and stress when the train is delayed even for a minute just to get their work changed? No, I believe the reason is deeper than that. They are scared. I am scared. This figure looms before us, our feudal lord and mistress, who is greater than all: God and the subway conductor.
Monday is 1/7th of a week, which works out to14.28%. If we are going to spend nearly 15% of our lives in dread, then I suspect something is wrong.
There have been no postings on this page for 4 days. I can post 4 entries today so that things will appear the same. Is it the same? Well, my wastepaper basket appears different now than 4 days ago, so I guess it is not the same.
But, as Gandhi said, it is never too late to make amends (even though he recommended confessing before sunset). In my experience, it is never too late to make excuses. And I have more than one excuse to put forth on the table.
The first being that I am working two jobs now…one in the morning and one in the evening. The two jobs are quite different. One of them must rank as the most boring place on the world. My most hectic duties there are possibly figuring out how many different ways I can lick many envelopes closed in less than a few hours. Not that I mind. I truly believe in dignity of labor, and I admire the fact that Gandhi insisted that everyone cleans their own and public toilets. But if I feel disappointed, it is because this is a classic example of expectation mismatch. In the interview they promised Godzilla. They show me a small wall lizard everyday. Another thing that causes to be swallow my sesame chicken without biting is the hope I will choke on it before I have to see another second of phoniness. Everyone is so polite to each other. Bad things never happen. Do you remember that form you signed when you joined? The one where you promised that you would never leave Disneyland? In spite of the fact that it is a most unchallenging environment, everyone in the office walks very fast (some even run to the fax machine) to show how busy they are. After they sit at their desks they surf the web. It is all quite painful. Some people even apologize for coming in late saying, “I can’t wait to wake up every morning and come in to work, oh those nights, so full of agony.” I go in resolving not to work, if possible (I never do one seconds work more than what is necessary). So I guess, I too am phony every 15th and 30th, the days we get paid.
The other job is at the other end of the spectrum. There is not a minute to breathe. Run, Run, Run. Think, think, think. Harder, faster, stronger. People and things in this office are like Darwin on speed. Things change continuously. Even the sun rises and sets more than once a day. People look unhappy. They work hard. They complain incessantly. I like this place more.
Though there is one common factor between the two jobs. The fear factor. Your boss will read what you have done and surely change it (this is one reason that the first drafts of the Taj Mahal weren’t put before them). You believe you have done the best you can. Then your boss changes everything. Not because she has to. Only because she can. This is not whining about something normal. If this is normal, then it is a scary thought. Does such a large portion of humanity run every morning to work, so full of concern and stress when the train is delayed even for a minute just to get their work changed? No, I believe the reason is deeper than that. They are scared. I am scared. This figure looms before us, our feudal lord and mistress, who is greater than all: God and the subway conductor.
Monday is 1/7th of a week, which works out to14.28%. If we are going to spend nearly 15% of our lives in dread, then I suspect something is wrong.
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