This or that
One day, the Buddha was sitting under a tree. One man possibly named Heidegger (it is impossible to ascertain) came to the Buddha and said, "Is there life after death? Are the soul and the body separate entities or are they one? Is the world eternal or does it have a finite life? If you don’t know the answers to these questions, then why should we all follow you in the quest for salvation?
The Buddha told this man, now look here Heidegger (really, his name is very difficult to know for sure). Did I ever promise to ascertain whether there is life after death? Did I ever tell you that I would answer the question if the body and soul are separate? Did I tell you that I would know the answer to whether the world is eternal or not? Your question reminds me of a man who was pierced by a poisonous arrow. Now would this person, ever stop to say, “Before you cure me doctor, or give me that antidote, I must know whether the person who shot the arrow was short or tall. Was he dark or fair? Was he from an upper caste or lower caste? All that I promised to show you was that suffering is eternal and there is a way to escape it.
This story has great value for society in the modern age. Many of us have very definite views on centrally held beliefs such as nuclear weapons, abortion, the benefits of capitalism vis a vis socialism, etc. The media exploits this fact. The conservative papers tow one line, while the liberal publications the complete opposite. Pages after pages are filled with opinion pieces containing arguments based on “unshakable” facts that are set in stone. I am not disputing that these facts are true. However, the article rings true not because of the truths it contains, but because of the information it omits.
This might not necessarily be due to the bad intentions of the journalist (at least some of the times this is true), but because of the very fact that the world is a large, complex place.
One cannot hear every butterfly flap its wings in far away Alaska.
One day, the Buddha was sitting under a tree. One man possibly named Heidegger (it is impossible to ascertain) came to the Buddha and said, "Is there life after death? Are the soul and the body separate entities or are they one? Is the world eternal or does it have a finite life? If you don’t know the answers to these questions, then why should we all follow you in the quest for salvation?
The Buddha told this man, now look here Heidegger (really, his name is very difficult to know for sure). Did I ever promise to ascertain whether there is life after death? Did I ever tell you that I would answer the question if the body and soul are separate? Did I tell you that I would know the answer to whether the world is eternal or not? Your question reminds me of a man who was pierced by a poisonous arrow. Now would this person, ever stop to say, “Before you cure me doctor, or give me that antidote, I must know whether the person who shot the arrow was short or tall. Was he dark or fair? Was he from an upper caste or lower caste? All that I promised to show you was that suffering is eternal and there is a way to escape it.
This story has great value for society in the modern age. Many of us have very definite views on centrally held beliefs such as nuclear weapons, abortion, the benefits of capitalism vis a vis socialism, etc. The media exploits this fact. The conservative papers tow one line, while the liberal publications the complete opposite. Pages after pages are filled with opinion pieces containing arguments based on “unshakable” facts that are set in stone. I am not disputing that these facts are true. However, the article rings true not because of the truths it contains, but because of the information it omits.
This might not necessarily be due to the bad intentions of the journalist (at least some of the times this is true), but because of the very fact that the world is a large, complex place.
One cannot hear every butterfly flap its wings in far away Alaska.
For the innocent person in jail
Welcome to part two of the Gandhi blog. This is written with a slightly different slant than the prior version. This is not to say that this installment is better or worse.
The two versions can be compared as one would compare a very hot summer and a very cold winter.
They are just different.
Somewhere in the world today, there is an innocent person in jail who goes to bed knowing that the next thirty years of his or her life are washed away needlessly. This person might have grown up like you and me, slaving through school, a career and at every step building up ambitions and aspirations. Suddenly, for no fault, he or she is sent to jail. Can you imagine the frustration and bitterness present in such a person?
What use is it to take a book on non-violence or religion and preach to such a person? Is it not better to occupy the mind of this person through stories, equations, feats and instances which inspire wonder in the universe we live in. A mind bending exercise that will occupy the navigational powers of most minds, even in the smallest of cells? And inspire a feeling of admiration, awe and love for all of creation?
This, after all, is the true essence of non-violence.
Welcome to part two of the Gandhi blog. This is written with a slightly different slant than the prior version. This is not to say that this installment is better or worse.
The two versions can be compared as one would compare a very hot summer and a very cold winter.
They are just different.
Somewhere in the world today, there is an innocent person in jail who goes to bed knowing that the next thirty years of his or her life are washed away needlessly. This person might have grown up like you and me, slaving through school, a career and at every step building up ambitions and aspirations. Suddenly, for no fault, he or she is sent to jail. Can you imagine the frustration and bitterness present in such a person?
What use is it to take a book on non-violence or religion and preach to such a person? Is it not better to occupy the mind of this person through stories, equations, feats and instances which inspire wonder in the universe we live in. A mind bending exercise that will occupy the navigational powers of most minds, even in the smallest of cells? And inspire a feeling of admiration, awe and love for all of creation?
This, after all, is the true essence of non-violence.
The beauty of a red light
What is jazz music?
I don’t have a degree in music appreciation
And yet know enough not to call it pop.
Is it a saxophone speaking pleasantly?
The cymbals tapping vigorously
In constant rhythm?
Is it a black man sitting in a round hat
A glass of lemonade or beer by his side
Who is tired of talking
And sees that there remains much to talk about
But has seen the futility of his opinions
And has decided to throw in the towel
To his feelings,
Which take him to a land
Only the richest among us are capable of visiting
Not as tourists but as locals
Where the brooks gurgle pleasantly
In tune to the intermittent mooing of cows
And the air speaks of chords yet to be played.
Once I was on the subway
There a burdened young mother and her child
There were also the other people, some women and some men
that had somewhere to go to.
While the door opened
We all heard the jazz; the child danced in a manner
That was not at all childlike
In fact in reminded us of us in moments when we were not self conscious.
Some looked at the child; others nodded in tune to the band
While those of us who dreaded attracting attention to ourselves
Looked into their books and wished that the doors would remain open
For just a little more time.
What is jazz music?
I don’t have a degree in music appreciation
And yet know enough not to call it pop.
Is it a saxophone speaking pleasantly?
The cymbals tapping vigorously
In constant rhythm?
Is it a black man sitting in a round hat
A glass of lemonade or beer by his side
Who is tired of talking
And sees that there remains much to talk about
But has seen the futility of his opinions
And has decided to throw in the towel
To his feelings,
Which take him to a land
Only the richest among us are capable of visiting
Not as tourists but as locals
Where the brooks gurgle pleasantly
In tune to the intermittent mooing of cows
And the air speaks of chords yet to be played.
Once I was on the subway
There a burdened young mother and her child
There were also the other people, some women and some men
that had somewhere to go to.
While the door opened
We all heard the jazz; the child danced in a manner
That was not at all childlike
In fact in reminded us of us in moments when we were not self conscious.
Some looked at the child; others nodded in tune to the band
While those of us who dreaded attracting attention to ourselves
Looked into their books and wished that the doors would remain open
For just a little more time.
Obfuscation
John Steinbeck has called farming and fishing the most noble of occupations. Gandhi would agree. Gandhi was a certified approver of the "music of the five fingers". He argues that the brain must be educated through the hand. Those people who go through the ordinary rut of education and deny themselves of any manual labor are missing music in their life. He does not advocate that people close down libraries and run down staircases with pickaxes in their hands. He admits the importance of intellectual output, but points out that after a while the brain begins to get weary of mere words. He quotes from the example of Brahmins of India and Tolstoy's peasant Bondaref, who when not being chased by wolves was working hard with his hands thus improving the quality of his intellectual output.
I must say that I agree. The world is full of fragmented images each claiming to be the absolute truth. The need of the hour is clarity. When you are "playing music with the five fingers", there is little room for blurring the picture (we shall follow the example of the good Merriam Webster dictionary and call this mode of action "obfuscation"). That is the problem with many of us today. We utilize clever bullet points, Power Point slide shows, aggressive headlines, pithy pictures all with one aim: to obfuscate. There is little room for obfuscation for the worker drilling on the road. At the end of the day, there is a gaping hole in the concrete. Or there is not. The only way, that great giver of life -rice- will sprout on fields is when the honest farmer has planted the seeds. There is little room for dodgy maneuvering.
Today, obfuscation has assumed dangerous proportions in a world that is full of cubicles and short on time. We follow the words of opinion leaders or intellectuals to the letter. It is the fastest way many of us form our opinions. But a clever "obfuscator" can lead the best guru astray. For example, all the newspapers today are talking about the missing Saddam Hussein in Iraq? Wasn't the whole point of the war finding the Weapons of Mass Destruction? Now if someone finds the weapons, there has been so much talk about them that it will be easy for the Administration to justify the war. But wasn't the whole point of the war that there exists conclusive proof that the weapons could have been deployed within 45 minutes on the West? It is okay to have a bowl of pudding; you still need a bowl and spoon to eat it properly. Nobody even talks about the cutlery anymore. Even if it were found that the weapons could have been deployed in the time Saddam takes to trim his moustache, wasn't the point of the war that he had links with terrorists and had intent to deploy these weapons. This most important issue (not everyone with a knife is a murderer, Perry Mason would say) has been confined to the dustiest and darkest attic. And pray who is the confiner?
Obfuscation.
Such is the power of obfuscation that is has 99% of the world talking about an issue that does not matter. One can only imagine how great an impact it is having on our day-to-day lives. The need of the hour is to get back to some form of good old-fashioned labor (be it ironing your shirts crease by crease) so as to bring honesty back to at least some of our actions.
John Steinbeck has called farming and fishing the most noble of occupations. Gandhi would agree. Gandhi was a certified approver of the "music of the five fingers". He argues that the brain must be educated through the hand. Those people who go through the ordinary rut of education and deny themselves of any manual labor are missing music in their life. He does not advocate that people close down libraries and run down staircases with pickaxes in their hands. He admits the importance of intellectual output, but points out that after a while the brain begins to get weary of mere words. He quotes from the example of Brahmins of India and Tolstoy's peasant Bondaref, who when not being chased by wolves was working hard with his hands thus improving the quality of his intellectual output.
I must say that I agree. The world is full of fragmented images each claiming to be the absolute truth. The need of the hour is clarity. When you are "playing music with the five fingers", there is little room for blurring the picture (we shall follow the example of the good Merriam Webster dictionary and call this mode of action "obfuscation"). That is the problem with many of us today. We utilize clever bullet points, Power Point slide shows, aggressive headlines, pithy pictures all with one aim: to obfuscate. There is little room for obfuscation for the worker drilling on the road. At the end of the day, there is a gaping hole in the concrete. Or there is not. The only way, that great giver of life -rice- will sprout on fields is when the honest farmer has planted the seeds. There is little room for dodgy maneuvering.
Today, obfuscation has assumed dangerous proportions in a world that is full of cubicles and short on time. We follow the words of opinion leaders or intellectuals to the letter. It is the fastest way many of us form our opinions. But a clever "obfuscator" can lead the best guru astray. For example, all the newspapers today are talking about the missing Saddam Hussein in Iraq? Wasn't the whole point of the war finding the Weapons of Mass Destruction? Now if someone finds the weapons, there has been so much talk about them that it will be easy for the Administration to justify the war. But wasn't the whole point of the war that there exists conclusive proof that the weapons could have been deployed within 45 minutes on the West? It is okay to have a bowl of pudding; you still need a bowl and spoon to eat it properly. Nobody even talks about the cutlery anymore. Even if it were found that the weapons could have been deployed in the time Saddam takes to trim his moustache, wasn't the point of the war that he had links with terrorists and had intent to deploy these weapons. This most important issue (not everyone with a knife is a murderer, Perry Mason would say) has been confined to the dustiest and darkest attic. And pray who is the confiner?
Obfuscation.
Such is the power of obfuscation that is has 99% of the world talking about an issue that does not matter. One can only imagine how great an impact it is having on our day-to-day lives. The need of the hour is to get back to some form of good old-fashioned labor (be it ironing your shirts crease by crease) so as to bring honesty back to at least some of our actions.
Back
For the last one month I have been very desirous of something. (Desirous - that which is more than mere anticipation or making wishes.)
When my mind began to revel in the delights of various scenarios that would result if I got what I desired for, my laziness kicked in. Though with the years laziness, like a hungry frog in a pond full of insects, has become better at coming up with excuses each one cleverer than the last.
My mind queried, Is it good to write about non-violence when the mind is full of desire?
No of course not, I replied (and we will leave aside the mind body duality discussion for a later date).
I lazed. I lounged. I drank out of taps lapping greedily through cupped hands. I found happiness in some"thing" after a long time. I saw the news. I also discovered that there are people who take what appears on our news channels seriously. There is an entire world that is affected by the tripe shown on our TV screens. I argued vehemently in one direction. Then I read of other people arguing in an equally convincing manner in the opposite direction. Reasoning and arguments are like a grinding wheel. You keep them in a corner to sharpen your knife periodically. What happens after that is none of their business. Cut a yellow pepper. Or slice an egg.
Anyway, as I move my shoulder one way and then the other, I feel a garb hit the floor. I feel free to run. To write. I don't know if the garb contains all things bad or there is some good. I do know that wearing it was necessary.
And once my shoulders get used to the lightness of the weight that they now carry, I shall type again. (It shall be some time tomorrow.)
We can enter a world where true non-violence, though not completely possible in action and duration, can be experienced at least more than one time a day.
For the last one month I have been very desirous of something. (Desirous - that which is more than mere anticipation or making wishes.)
When my mind began to revel in the delights of various scenarios that would result if I got what I desired for, my laziness kicked in. Though with the years laziness, like a hungry frog in a pond full of insects, has become better at coming up with excuses each one cleverer than the last.
My mind queried, Is it good to write about non-violence when the mind is full of desire?
No of course not, I replied (and we will leave aside the mind body duality discussion for a later date).
I lazed. I lounged. I drank out of taps lapping greedily through cupped hands. I found happiness in some"thing" after a long time. I saw the news. I also discovered that there are people who take what appears on our news channels seriously. There is an entire world that is affected by the tripe shown on our TV screens. I argued vehemently in one direction. Then I read of other people arguing in an equally convincing manner in the opposite direction. Reasoning and arguments are like a grinding wheel. You keep them in a corner to sharpen your knife periodically. What happens after that is none of their business. Cut a yellow pepper. Or slice an egg.
Anyway, as I move my shoulder one way and then the other, I feel a garb hit the floor. I feel free to run. To write. I don't know if the garb contains all things bad or there is some good. I do know that wearing it was necessary.
And once my shoulders get used to the lightness of the weight that they now carry, I shall type again. (It shall be some time tomorrow.)
We can enter a world where true non-violence, though not completely possible in action and duration, can be experienced at least more than one time a day.
Rebirth
There are certain days when one has to decide to make a new beginning.
This cannot be accomplished with a pair of scissors.
A snake shedding its sin will have little pointers to offer in this regard.
It is not an easy process. First one thinks of Einstein and understands that in some way one has to forget the learned concept of time.
Looking at the leaves on the trees and also at the branches that bear them is a good start.
Then don't try to forget. Try to remember. I think rebirth is the act of feeling a collective consciousness.
Many people. Some known. History. The newspapers. Advertisements. Buses, trains, planes. Streetcars. A deep breath. And thinking of many things and one time.
This might include the snake that is just shedding its skin.
There are certain days when one has to decide to make a new beginning.
This cannot be accomplished with a pair of scissors.
A snake shedding its sin will have little pointers to offer in this regard.
It is not an easy process. First one thinks of Einstein and understands that in some way one has to forget the learned concept of time.
Looking at the leaves on the trees and also at the branches that bear them is a good start.
Then don't try to forget. Try to remember. I think rebirth is the act of feeling a collective consciousness.
Many people. Some known. History. The newspapers. Advertisements. Buses, trains, planes. Streetcars. A deep breath. And thinking of many things and one time.
This might include the snake that is just shedding its skin.
Faster and faster
If this blog has not been updated very regularly, then let me say at the very outset is that I am not a very big fan of Nero. I don't play the fiddle when the city burns. At the risk of sounding cryptic, things should work out this week and this blog shall receive updates numbering more than the number of dew drops on a particularly aggressive leaf every hazy morning.
Firstly, we shall continue taking a walk on the path of science. Searching for air conditioned venues on a hot Sunday afternoon (and to be honest, I do like Starbucks, but so do many New Yorkers), I decided to go to PS1, the museum in Queens. If you ever go down to PS1, please be sure to check out the installation in the basement, where musical notes are emanating from pipes that normally carry water. Do note that the genre of music is not important, it is not very often in life that you see music coming out of pipes - no disrespect to Bjork. Right by the mellifluous pipes, there is a dark room with a very small window made of stained glass. It allows inward light in a miserly fashion. The floor of this room is also damp and this makes it very easy - in fact encourages you- to breathe. The subtle fragrance made you feel at every moment that it had just rained and that the earth is grateful in its own inimitable manner. I contemplated spending the rest of the Sunday there and decided against it. It would be a very Bart Simpson thing to do and in a museum, one must try and be original.
On the second floor of the museum they had brought in messages and equipment from the CERN particle physics laboratories in Switzerland. If you don't have an urge to tell time looking at Rolex watches, then you can also go down to the labs down at Stanford.
I shall be very honest. I didn't bring out my calculator, rest my glasses on my forehead, placed by fist under my chin and calculate the properties of a B meson particle. I know as little about B mesons as I do about the fastest way to reach the Shanghai elementary school for children from the Lu Chen teapot factory.
But so much is clear. The universe didn't go off with a whimper. It started off with a big bang. There was frenzied activity and a lot of energy was generated during the first few moments. James Brown could have taken notes. Scientists have been trying to understand what went on exactly during the initial moments. Why is it that matter triumphed over anti-matter? Why is it that B mesons (which are very small particles) disintegrate quickly? And a whole more that is waiting not only to be understood but also known.
These particles are unfortunately so small that they cannot be seen. Also under normal conditions the energy levels are not sufficiently high to result in the creation of these particles. In particle physics laboratories, electrons are accelerated in long chambers (in underground chambers going up to several miles) to very high speeds - those approaching the speed of light. Under these conditions, they possess very high energy. Then they are made to collide against stationary targets or against "anti-electrons" -positrons. The resulting interactions are studied and information is gleaned. Sometimes, the electrons are passed through intense X rays and changes in the magnetic field are discussed in a heated manner over coffees and croissants.
No classified research is permitted in these laboratories. The results are published openly. You don't have to be an American or Swiss citizen to operate the klystron arrays at these labs. Any person with suitable qualifications can utilize the facilities. This is a sphere where national interest does not take precedence. There are too many things at stake that are unknown. The subject under discussion is one that precedes the creation of all nations. It is thus an area, where it is possible to talk of equality of contributions -and opportunity-in a meaningful manner.
In this respect, the first big bang will be different from the second big bang.
If this blog has not been updated very regularly, then let me say at the very outset is that I am not a very big fan of Nero. I don't play the fiddle when the city burns. At the risk of sounding cryptic, things should work out this week and this blog shall receive updates numbering more than the number of dew drops on a particularly aggressive leaf every hazy morning.
Firstly, we shall continue taking a walk on the path of science. Searching for air conditioned venues on a hot Sunday afternoon (and to be honest, I do like Starbucks, but so do many New Yorkers), I decided to go to PS1, the museum in Queens. If you ever go down to PS1, please be sure to check out the installation in the basement, where musical notes are emanating from pipes that normally carry water. Do note that the genre of music is not important, it is not very often in life that you see music coming out of pipes - no disrespect to Bjork. Right by the mellifluous pipes, there is a dark room with a very small window made of stained glass. It allows inward light in a miserly fashion. The floor of this room is also damp and this makes it very easy - in fact encourages you- to breathe. The subtle fragrance made you feel at every moment that it had just rained and that the earth is grateful in its own inimitable manner. I contemplated spending the rest of the Sunday there and decided against it. It would be a very Bart Simpson thing to do and in a museum, one must try and be original.
On the second floor of the museum they had brought in messages and equipment from the CERN particle physics laboratories in Switzerland. If you don't have an urge to tell time looking at Rolex watches, then you can also go down to the labs down at Stanford.
I shall be very honest. I didn't bring out my calculator, rest my glasses on my forehead, placed by fist under my chin and calculate the properties of a B meson particle. I know as little about B mesons as I do about the fastest way to reach the Shanghai elementary school for children from the Lu Chen teapot factory.
But so much is clear. The universe didn't go off with a whimper. It started off with a big bang. There was frenzied activity and a lot of energy was generated during the first few moments. James Brown could have taken notes. Scientists have been trying to understand what went on exactly during the initial moments. Why is it that matter triumphed over anti-matter? Why is it that B mesons (which are very small particles) disintegrate quickly? And a whole more that is waiting not only to be understood but also known.
These particles are unfortunately so small that they cannot be seen. Also under normal conditions the energy levels are not sufficiently high to result in the creation of these particles. In particle physics laboratories, electrons are accelerated in long chambers (in underground chambers going up to several miles) to very high speeds - those approaching the speed of light. Under these conditions, they possess very high energy. Then they are made to collide against stationary targets or against "anti-electrons" -positrons. The resulting interactions are studied and information is gleaned. Sometimes, the electrons are passed through intense X rays and changes in the magnetic field are discussed in a heated manner over coffees and croissants.
No classified research is permitted in these laboratories. The results are published openly. You don't have to be an American or Swiss citizen to operate the klystron arrays at these labs. Any person with suitable qualifications can utilize the facilities. This is a sphere where national interest does not take precedence. There are too many things at stake that are unknown. The subject under discussion is one that precedes the creation of all nations. It is thus an area, where it is possible to talk of equality of contributions -and opportunity-in a meaningful manner.
In this respect, the first big bang will be different from the second big bang.
A bird in the sky is worth many viewings
What is the best possible way to view a world without boundaries? You can either go and watch that movie where immigration officials around the world are drunk and polite at the same time. Or you can watch the documentary by Jacques Perrin that goes under the name of Winged Migration (a very comprehensive website).
The movie deals with a subject that is still a great mystery to man: the migration of birds. It tries and answers questions such as "Why do birds migrate to the north in spring and to the south in winter? (The second question is answered more readily than the first). It ventures some guesses as to how birds know when to migrate and also how they actually accomplish the process. It also takes a very close look at the migratory patterns of many species of birds, some of them who fly to the Tundras (Canadian or otherwise, it does not matter) and others who fly to deserts in the "continent of Africa". However, it does not answer the mystery: "How did Jacques Perrin actually shoot the movie at such close ranges without himself being a bird that is capable of transforming into different species at the drop of a hat?"
For most of the movie the human narrator is quiet. He breaks in occasionally to remind us that the path to and from distant lands is "fraught with danger."
In two scenes of the movie, one feels bad for the birds who meet a premature end. (Though to be honest in one scene he shows a stork swallowing a fish and if the movie were about fish, one would have felt anger towards the stork. Circle of life and all that.)
In the beginning of the movie there is a disclaimer that insists that none of the shots in the movie were altered with special effects. That is the only redundant line in the movie. No amount of imagination or fancy special effects software could come up with the actions that are accomplished with such variance and such simplicity by birds of so many colors, shapes and sizes.
Have you seen Jesus Christ walk on water? If you are around my age, the answer would probably be in the negative. But if you go and see the movie you might be pleasantly surprised.
See and Comprehend? No.
Just See and See.
What is the best possible way to view a world without boundaries? You can either go and watch that movie where immigration officials around the world are drunk and polite at the same time. Or you can watch the documentary by Jacques Perrin that goes under the name of Winged Migration (a very comprehensive website).
The movie deals with a subject that is still a great mystery to man: the migration of birds. It tries and answers questions such as "Why do birds migrate to the north in spring and to the south in winter? (The second question is answered more readily than the first). It ventures some guesses as to how birds know when to migrate and also how they actually accomplish the process. It also takes a very close look at the migratory patterns of many species of birds, some of them who fly to the Tundras (Canadian or otherwise, it does not matter) and others who fly to deserts in the "continent of Africa". However, it does not answer the mystery: "How did Jacques Perrin actually shoot the movie at such close ranges without himself being a bird that is capable of transforming into different species at the drop of a hat?"
For most of the movie the human narrator is quiet. He breaks in occasionally to remind us that the path to and from distant lands is "fraught with danger."
In two scenes of the movie, one feels bad for the birds who meet a premature end. (Though to be honest in one scene he shows a stork swallowing a fish and if the movie were about fish, one would have felt anger towards the stork. Circle of life and all that.)
In the beginning of the movie there is a disclaimer that insists that none of the shots in the movie were altered with special effects. That is the only redundant line in the movie. No amount of imagination or fancy special effects software could come up with the actions that are accomplished with such variance and such simplicity by birds of so many colors, shapes and sizes.
Have you seen Jesus Christ walk on water? If you are around my age, the answer would probably be in the negative. But if you go and see the movie you might be pleasantly surprised.
See and Comprehend? No.
Just See and See.
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