I Believe

Why believe in that which has no evidence?

I find this a profound question. Why do people believe in the irrational?

I have dealt with this question in one of my articles on religion. People are eager to brand the darkness as divine. For example, one belief I commonly encounter is about the creation of the universe. Some believe in intelligent design... that is, some “intelligent” chap up there carving out the intricate structure of this wonderful universe. Others believe in the Big Bang. What do I believe in? … Neither. My reluctance to believe in this regard stems from the inadequacy of either theory in answering certain basic questions like what existed before the Universe? Nothing… my father once said. I remember being dumbstruck by the sudden omnipresence of NOTHING. “What is nothing?” I remember having asked him as a 12 year old. I am still fascinated by this concept! I do not understand it yet and don’t pretend that I do.

That brings me back to the question… Why do others want to believe so fervently and so urgently in something at the cost of rationality?

It could be a feeling of insecurity at being surrounded by mystery. A few might ask… “Aren’t we always surrounded by mystery?” Others will say… “That is the mystery of god”. I feel this feeling of insecurity grows from a deep feeling of inadequacy with one’s own existence. The fact that YOU exist doesn’t give you enough courage to embrace life with all its mysteries.

Another possible explanation for this could be the reluctance to shoulder the responsibility to face all these mysteries with a sense of curiosity… that I feel is natural to any life form. One must find an answer to every question! We don’t stop until we do find our answers. When they don’t… they make a grave error… They create an answer. People will enthusiastically believe this fabricated shred that I see as an excuse to mask their lack of courage.

I am a dot on this world. My existence may not make any difference to anyone. What is most important is that it makes a difference to me.

I believe in many things. Every one of these beliefs is founded on reason and open to challenges and change. Sometimes, I must admit, I crave to be challenged.

Another Bhutto dead

I really can't come up with anything when I ask myself what the halcyon days of Pakistani politics have been. It's pathetic watching the television relaying images of people crying their hearts out, destroying public property, automobiles, human lives and of course... Musharaff's support groups.

What were these people crying for? what were they angry with? with the extinguished flame of the "last" hope for democracy in Pakistan? I'm sure there are people who are devastated by this. But, would it drive them to mindless vandalism?

Around 30 people were killed by the suicide bomber. Another 30 were killed by rampaging mobs after the incident. I am tempted to ask myself... which is the greater evil?

Imran Khan seems to have his nuts and bolts in the right place when he says that though this is a devastating loss, there are steps that must be taken from here to continue the movement towards democracy. It starts with Musharraf relinquishing power and an independent judiciary conducting a detailed inquiry into this matter followed by elections as scheduled.

Compare this to Nawaz Sharif who appears sullen and (almost) weeping on the television declaring that this is the worst day in the history of Pakistani Politics (I wouldn't attest to that!) and that he will boycott the elections.

I ask people such as him... Is that in the spirit of a struggle towards democracy? Is that what is called for to transform Pakistan from a dictatorial regime of an inefficient General to a robust democracy?

However, the mobs don't really care much about a dictatorship or a democracy or anything productive for that matter. They seem to be driven by a single minded desire to destroy anything holding a promise to progress simply because it is beautiful... simply because it stands for all that is great in this world.

Democracy, in my opinion, is not the most efficient political framework for a nation. I prefer a dictatorial regime with regard to power over the protection and sustenance of civil society and a purely capitalistic and democratic model to the operation of the economy.

However, I have a stipulation that negates the efficacy of this model in most real-world scenarios. The dictator must be a woman or man of intelligence, courage and integrity. To be honest, Putin gets the closest (though not anywhere near being close enough) to these requirements amongst most dictators that exist today.

"Benazir Bhutto, the Martyr!" people will cry...
and the few that truly understand
will only crack their knuckles and sigh.

The sounds of music

"Nothing could teach you something" he heard as he swerved with the rhythms of the car that blazes along a road set against the dark sky, lights twinkling in the distance. He emerged from the endless sounds of music and conversation. He saw their lips part forming new words, he saw their eyes speaking more than their lips ever could. He saw their intentions and their masks. He saw through them.

Beautiful masks they were. He enjoyed the sight of them. He enjoyed the texture of their mood. But, he knew the texture of their being and decides to remain at the surface.

What does a man do when he refuses to play along with the currents of the river beating against him? Not because he doesn't like being carried by the river because he knows where it goes. He basks instead in the sensation of having the waves caress his chest and the breeze cooling his brow.

He dives instead into the texture of the words rather than the meaning they evoke. Because the meanings will disappoint him. He has been down that current before.

The moments spent by the river bank were soothing indeed. He decides to emerge from that feeling and walk back into the wilderness.

"One could learn a lot from such superficial conversation". Of course, I thought... I learned how to enjoy them. I learned what I enjoy most. I learned that people tend to be strongest when they move in packs. I learned that I tend to be strongest simply knowing that I am who I am.

Why MAKE conversation? Why do people see it as an asset? Why do people gather knowledge only to be able to continue MAKING conversation? Why do they want to be accepted by others? Why don't they accept themselves? Why do they not say and do whatever they want to say or do? Why do they bother about the response from another? Why are they worried about losing companionship? Why are they afraid of being alone? Why don't they love themselves enough?

I find the pretentious interactions amusing! Almost like they are trying desperately to entertain others and themselves. I must agree... observing this certainly entertains me!

Some people have souls that protest vigorously amidst all the clamor. But alas, their lips helplessly add to it.

How fortunate for me to have a home for myself in my own being from where I can sit peacefully observing these undercurrents.

Bible studies 1 - Sexual Relations

I was privileged to be given the holy bible a few months ago. Untouched books make me itch and as a result, i chose to begin my excursion through these crisp pages written thousands of years ago by a bunch of people who have, to a large extent, steered the social currents of the world.

The copy that I own has a very handy list of subjects at the end that gives the reader the exact location of the Bible's take on a whole array of issues. Oh yeah! God was extremely opinionated!

"Homosexuality" caught my eye. You can blame it on my proclivity for the provocative.

Anyway, as my eyes were hovering over the all the "Do not's" indoctrinated in Leviticus, Ch. 18 caught my eye. "Unlawful Sexual Relations", speaks about everything you must not do with regard to the cravings of your genitals.

I would rather title this passage as the "Beginners guide Incest and more". I definitely admire the guy's creativity at placing a "Do not" before every possible variation of a sexual relation. Son with mother, Father with daughter, nephew and aunt, daughter-in-law with father-in-law, man with man, neighbors wife, sister-in-law and brother-in-law, animals and humans, amongst others. He seems to have brainstormed this issue thoroughly! It makes me wonder about where the Porn industry might have got most of their brilliant ideas... Interesting!

Those who do experience attraction for someone from within the family or for the same sex is bound to look at these doctrines and say, "God says it is wrong. So, my desire at this point is wrong. That makes me a sinner!". A more pragmatic approach for this person would be, "Great! God says it is wrong. Firstly, why should I trust Leviticus with knowing God's will and secondly, God doesn't bother giving any explanations other than death threats and a very handy reassurance that he is my God".

The first person will land up prostrate in a church begging for forgiveness. The second guy will probably shut the bible and meet a psychologist who will probably tell him that sexual desires are human and natural. However, consider the social system and the biological and psychological impact of an action based on such an instinct before indulging in it.

Homosexuality, for instance, is one of those acts that draws the rage of God. In Leviticus 20:13, it is written "If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads."

A gruesome end to any inappropriate romance for sure! This death threat has been given profusely through most of this chapter sometimes explicitly mentioning method of inflicting this death as well. Burning these folk and stoning them to death are apparently God's favorite techniques.

In the Romans 1:18-32, I find a logical fallacy culminating to the same damnation of those who give in to their "impure" thoughts. The passage says that in the beginning God made himself quite clearly known to mankind. He damns those who understand and have the opportunity to understand but try to cover it up with their "wickedness". It goes one by asserting that it is God who "gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another." "God gave them over to shameful lusts." "he gave them over to a depraved mind, to do what ought not to be done".

This makes God sound like an extremely obsessive and substantially retarded bigot. Why?

Firstly, this entire theory is based on the assumption that God made himself adequately clear to mankind. So one has to be either stupid or wicked not to understand his magnificence. Either way, you end up being burnt or stoned for some "shameful" sexual act. If one thinks about it in a little more detail, this sexual act was not done of the victims free will... it was the divine will of God that "gave them over to shameful lusts".

So what have I learned today from the holy gospel?

If I do not recognize God's infinite powers, he will give me over to my base desires leading me to being sexually attracted to one of the many people and animals listed in the Bible after which I should be either burnt to death or pelted with stones until the life drains out of me. Going by this leather bound holy book, this guy (I've always wondered about why God can't be a woman!) called God is a perverted freak! Reminds me of those sadists in some of those porn videos that revolted me as a teenager.

There was more written about Sexual relations in the Bible, but, I've lost my appetite!

Next time, I'll try looking for something less gruesome.

Siddhartha *

What is perfection? What is a balance? What is the essence of "me"? As I begun forming words to express my thoughts, i felt a strange sense of history reiterating the words I was creating in the present. Siddhartha.. Of course! He is the only other person who spoke these very words to me as I would to another.

These are my words through his mouth... a privilege I don't get to use too often.

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"Listen well, my dear, listen well! The sinner, which I am and which you are, is a sinner, but in times to come he will be Brahma again, he will reach the Nirvana, will be Buddha--and now see: these "times to come" are a deception, are only a parable! The sinner is not on his way to become a Buddha, he is not in the process of developing, though our capacity for thinking does not know how else to picture these things. No, within the sinner is now and today already the future Buddha, his future is already all there, you have to worship in him, in you, in everyone the Buddha which is coming into being, the possible, the hidden Buddha. The world, my friend Govinda, is not imperfect, or on a slow path towards perfection: no, it is perfect in every moment, all sin already carries the divine forgiveness in itself, all small children already have the old person in themselves, all infants already have death, all dying people the eternal life. It is nor possible for any person to see how far another one has already progressed on his path; in the robber and dice-gambler, the Buddha is waiting; in the Brahman, the robber is waiting. In deep meditation, there is the possibility to put time out of existence, to see all life which was, is, and will be as if it was simultaneous, and there everything is good, everything is perfect, everything is Brahman. Therefore, I see whatever exists as good, death is to me like life, sin like holiness, wisdom like foolishness, everything has to be as it is, everything only requires my consent, only my willingness, my loving agreement, to be good for me, to do nothing but work for my benefit, to be unable to ever harm me. I have experienced on my body and on my soul that I needed sinbvery much, I needed lust, the desire for possessions, vanity, and needed the most shameful despair, in order to learn how to give up all resistance, in order to learn how to love the world, in order to stop comparing it to some world I wished, I imagined, some kind of perfection I had made up, but to leave it as it is and to love it and to enjoy being a part of it.--These, oh Govinda, are some of the thoughts which have come into my mind."

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"Bent down to me!" he whispered quietly in Govinda's ear. "Bend down to me! Like this, even closer! Very close! Kiss my forehead, Govinda!"

But while Govinda with astonishment, and yet drawn by great love and expectation, obeyed his words, bent down closely to him and touched his forehead with his lips, something miraculous happened to him. While his thoughts were still dwelling on Siddhartha's wondrous words, while he was still struggling in vain and with reluctance to think away time, to imagine Nirvana and Sansara as one, while even a certain contempt for the words of his friend was fighting in him against an immense love and veneration, this happened to him:

He no longer saw the face of his friend Siddhartha, instead he saw other faces, many, a long sequence, a flowing river of faces, of hundreds, of thousands, which all came and disappeared, and yet all seemed to be there simultaneously, which all constantly changed and renewed themselves, and which were still all Siddhartha. He saw the face of a fish, a carp, with an infinitely painfully opened mouth, the face of a dying fish, with fading eyes--he saw the face of a new-born child, red and full of wrinkles, distorted from crying--he saw the face of a murderer, he saw him plunging a knife into the body of another person--he saw, in the same second, this criminal in bondage, kneeling and his head being chopped off by the executioner with one blow of his sword--he saw the bodies of men and women, naked in positions and cramps of frenzied love--he saw corpses stretched out, motionless, cold, void-- he saw the heads of animals, of boars, of crocodiles, of elephants, of bulls, of birds--he saw gods, saw Krishna, saw Agni--he saw all of these figures and faces in a thousand relationships with one another, each one helping the other, loving it, hating it, destroying it, giving re-birth to it, each one was a will to die, a passionately painful confession of transitoriness, and yet none of then died, each one only transformed, was always re-born, received evermore a new face, without any time having passed between the one and the other face--and all of these figures and faces rested, flowed, generated themselves, floated along and merged with each other, and they were all constantly covered by something thin, without individuality of its own, but yet existing, like a thin glass or ice, like a transparent skin, a shell or mold or mask of water, and this mask was smiling, and this mask was Siddhartha's smiling face, which he, Govinda, in this very same moment touched with his lips. And, Govinda saw it like this, this smile of the mask, this smile of oneness above the flowing forms, this smile of simultaneousness above the thousand births and deaths, this smile of Siddhartha was precisely the same, was precisely of the same kind as the quiet, delicate, impenetrable, perhaps benevolent, perhaps mocking, wise, thousand-fold smile of Gotama, the Buddha, as he had seen it himself with great respect a hundred times. Like this, Govinda knew, the perfected ones are smiling.

Not knowing any more whether time existed, whether the vision had lasted a second or a hundred years, not knowing any more whether there existed a Siddhartha, a Gotama, a me and a you, feeling in his innermost self as if he had been wounded by a divine arrow, the injury of which tasted sweet, being enchanted and dissolved in his innermost self, Govinda still stood for little while bent over Siddhartha's quiet face, which he had just kissed, which had just been the scene of all manifestations, all transformations, all existence. The face was unchanged, after under its surface the depth of the thousandfoldness had closed up again, he smiled silently, smiled quietly and softly, perhaps very benevolently, perhaps very mockingly, precisely as he used to smile, the exalted one.

Deeply, Govinda bowed; tears, he knew nothing of, ran down his old face; like a fire burnt the feeling of the most intimate love, the humblest veneration in his heart. Deeply, he bowed, touching the ground, before him who was sitting motionlessly, whose smile reminded him of everything he had ever loved in his life, what had ever been valuable and holy to him in his life."

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* Hesse, Hermann, Siddhartha, 1992

My direction

There are moments in life when you see a vision so clearly that it pierces through your being. I saw it today, too clearly to be a passing fantasy. I saw evil again, human evil, coldness to life and everything associated with it.

I saw visions of gunfire, blood, screams and tears as i felt my own soaking my palms. Men, women and children being killed. Cameramen, soldiers and civilians being massacred.

This is the essence of humanity. This is my world. This is where I belong.... On the front lines of hell.

Fire in ice

My eyes open to a dull light from a Grey sky through my window. No bird chirping, no leaves fluttering. The birds have migrated and the leaves have all fallen and here I am, waking up to another morning in this cold neighborhood. A Sunday morning and I feel like starting my day with a bang!

"How about a run?", I ask myself. Something inside my shuddered with the cold that my body would feel if I stepped out and something else inside me smiled.

I step onto the desolate roads while the city slept to greet the day. 30 minutes and my hands are painfully frozen, feet sore with the blisters I earned the day before. It's amazing how the thoughts seem so startlingly clear and fluid, when one is in pain or being tested. Visions begin to cascade like the road flowing beside me. Visions of cliffs, heat, ice, rocks, the sky, my hands, a sword, intensity, love, war, peace, memories, Michelle... My feet keep thudding under me, protesting and performing nevertheless.

Time flew by like a gentle caress. Without realizing it, I had broken yet another one of my records... 1 hr 20 minutes!

Back at home, the hot water burnt my skin... I felt like doing it again. Running into the city, not knowing where, not knowing how, just running. It felt like a constant battle between the fire inside and the frozen air hitting my body from the outside.

:-) I'm sleepy now!

From then to now

Looking at my reflection today, i scan the lines drawn tighter across my body. It took me back momentarily to what I had seen in the mirror 2 years, 4 years, 6 years ago. I think about the variations I have seen looking back at me from the silver surface.

From a lofty, soft and ashamed boy to this! I like what I see...

I think back to the condition of my mind and body back then when mobility was only a dream, sometimes so hopelessly unrealistic. I remember going to bed those days seeking comfort in the darkness... weak, alone and insecure. I remember those first steps I took in the athletic stadium. I remember collapsing after 100 meters. I remember the shame that pierced my heart and the pain that seared across my flat feet. I remember what it felt like carrying all that useless weight around like a liability. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Body and mind, in my case were and still are in perfect synchrony. My thoughts and emotions were just as lofty as my steps. I remember the burning desire to change, to run, to question. I remember the struggle and the anguish and the ecstasy that I felt finding my answers and breaking my own limits.

1 km, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 and still counting... From a closed, scared, ashamed boy to who I see today looking me in the eye. I won't stop.

I won't stop loving life, embracing myself each day, placing another limit in front of me and watch it shattering to dust. I feel the tendons, harder against my skin, the veins emerging like a river that is gushing with life. I feel my smile.

My Horizon

Eyes fixed on a horizon
that must be crossed again

Knowing that the closer I get
the farther it moves away from me

All I feel is a burning desire
to keep moving into the unknown

knowing that there will come a time
when i coalesce into the cosmos

knowing that this voyage is endless
knowing that i have but one life to make it

Peace at gunpoint

I've been asked several times... What drives people to killing an innocent human in cold blood? The question to ask is... What does this man FEEL while killing another? Does he feel anything at all? What should be done when such a man has an innocent man, woman or child at gunpoint? Negotiate?

This is the primary function of the UN peacekeeping forces, keeping peace at gunpoint. Using the gun when there is no other way. But, if we think about putting an essentially supra-national humanitarian peacekeeping force that steps in to stop all forms of violence inflicted on innocent people, we cannot possibly think of putting this force under the control of an organization that derives its legitimacy from its member states. These member states have a complex mesh of national political interests at stake that prevents them from taking purely global humanitarian decisions.

So what is the ideal solution?

Creating an armed peacekeeping group not controlled by any nation but by a single truly supra-national organization. What will be required for legitimate intervention is endorsement by nations, especially the government of the nation that is a becoming a victim to mindless violence. Now, what if the government in question is either the cause of the problem or defunct? What becomes necessary in this case is circumventing the system.

Though unfortunate, the reality is this... To be effective in humanitarian intervention, states must be circumvented. The condition of sovereignty stands valid only if the state is effectively responding to violence being inflicted upon it's innocent citizens. So, logically speaking, circumvention is justified. Realistically speaking, such an organization would quickly become illegal... some might even label it as a terrorist group forcing it to go underground.

So this peacekeeping group will need funds. Where will that come from? Governments are out. Private sources are the only solution apart from self-sustaining projects. It will definitely require a huge fund base to fight maniacs with guns and politicians with words.

Running into the gale

That menacing terrain
against the dark skies

These legs beneath
rooted firmly into the soil

The clouds blanket
the earth like a shroud

These eyes glowing
with will and passion

There's a storm brewing
beating against this being

The heart is afire
and onward treads a lonely soul

Fueled by dreams
of better days.

The end may come
leaving nothing but visions

But, it isn't only the end
but the road to the end that defines us.

Into my dreams

With swollen eyes and throbbing arms
I write this verse to calm my qualms.

The world around seems just the same
It is my soul i think that's tame

A fleeting moment of a numb sensation
that wraps my soul in a dark vexation

What drives the world around me I ask
while somnolence struggles to bring me to task

The long day wanes, the slow moon climbs
alone I tread into the pastures of my dreams

To see another world unfold
a world with many secrets to hold

I bid goodbye to thoughts and words
the day has gone by and I just sigh

The omnipotent capitalist?

So... money drives the world. Firstly, there are three primary reasons to make money; survival, material comforts and power. The first two factors are quite straight forward and free of controversy unless we consider the means to these ends. The third factor is more thought provoking. Money for power... power over people.

What is power over people? The capacity to control them? It is important to understand the kind of people you would control (their motives) and also whether you control them in the truest sense of the word. The kind of people you control would be just like you... wanting to make money for mere survival, material comforts or power. I attach no moral connotation to making money for power over others. I only stipulate that it is not possible. Why? In one of my previous posts, I wrote about freedom. I wrote that we were all born free and are always free and most of us just don't realize it. You can only control a free man to a certain extent and that extent is purely physical. Even that isn't guaranteed. You can control a man's actions with the power of your money. But, can you control his thoughts and feelings?

"As you think, so you are" - Gautama Buddha

I feel this thought is very relevant here, though not complete. I'd rather say; as you think, feel and act, so you are. The crux of the matter is the same though. To control mankind, you will have to control not only the actions but also the thoughts and emotions entrenched in the human psyche.

So, does money move the world? Of course it does. It is beyond doubt that the world is primarily composed of those who lack self respect in some form and who seek approval from outside for a 'self' they do not believe in themselves. Such people will be only too glad to be drawn by the money power you wield. That is a world where money gains you approval. But, does it? You will definitely get nods of approval from most (not all) but, will you get thoughts of approval? Is it really approval if the nod and the thought don't complement each other? We already know the answers to these questions. But, most prefer to turn a blind eye to them, live in denial. It is from such people that the phrase "ignorance is bliss" was born.

So, you can safely assume that you have reasonable (not complete) control over my actions through your capital power. But, this is only until I value your capital power more than my freedom of action.

Money is the means to an end and power over others is not an end. It is a myth.

Probability

Mathematics is a marvelous tool for analysis of the present and the past. However, mathematical simulations for the future must be treated as what they really are... possibilities.

On a particular street, out of 100 men, 1 man dies in an accident every month. So, Tom is walking down this street and is wondering what the probability was of him getting hit by a car this month... 1/100. Pretty good chance of being alive then, right? Wham! He's hit by a truck.

Now how did that calculation help. The real answer for Tom's case was 1. If he wasn't hit, it would have been 0. So at any given point of time, the probability for an event taking place is 50%. Either 0 or 1.

That makes the mathematical process of calculating probability redundant right? Wrong again. Imagine a company running a logistics operation based on estimated time lines and cost factors. Now imagine this company operating on a 50% probability model. It will stop functioning. Probability has a high "hit rate", high enough to make profits.

However, taking decisions in one's life based on mathematically determined probabilities is quite elusive. By this, I am not suggesting that everyone steps out of their homes armed to the teeth prepared for war. I am attempting to shift the emphasis from predetermination to spontaneity.

We could start taking life as it comes. Trust our judgment and our ability to act upon them whenever whatever happens.

Coincidence

To start with, I will attempt to clarify this term. This is the meaning I attribute to the word through the rest of the posts I dedicate to the issue of coincidence.

It is the occurrence of multiple events at the same time. This makes it sound like quite a harmless term which raises the question... Why is coincidence attributed to divinity of predestined road maps for every event in the past, present and future? Because, it seems uncanny that two people should meet at the same place without any plans to do so more than once? Because, a hatrick is awe inspiring? Because you travel half way around the planet to discover another human being who thinks, feels and acts just like you? Because pure rationale is limiting to explain such startling negations of mere chance? So, should we humble humans do what the majority of our magnificent race indulge in... attribute everything seemingly inexplicable to divinity?

So, is there a master plan? Are we mere puppets in the omnipotent hands of destiny? How do we explain certain happenings that seem almost too good or bad to be true?

Let's embark on a short excursion on the paths of our lives. I will not tread as far as the controversial Adam and Eve but to something more relevant and believable like your parents. Somewhere in their individual lives, out of the billions of people on earth and the thousands of people they were acquainted with, they chose each other. On one particular day, a particular sperm cell from you father fused with the ovum of you mother and that managed to find its way back to the uterus and fuse with it marking the beginning of a new life... you. Do you see how narrow the possibility was even for your existence. Had one little link been out of place, you would not exist and I only went as far as your parents. Think about the Big Bang, Dinosaurs, Apes, Evolution, epidemics, wars and numerous other factors and you will feel the full intensity of your very existence. Getting here wasn't easy.

Every day, without realizing it, you have probably evaded death, saved lives, walked past the person you will be spending the rest of your life with after 2 years, probably even shortened somebody's life... who knows?!

So what makes things happen in us and around us? Firstly, human choices. A Chinese businessman might get tired of his bourgeois lifestyle and choose to reduce raw material expenditure in his toys to increase profit. In the US, you choose to buy this particular toy on the shelf of Walmart that you think your child will like. You child likes chewing on the toy more than playing with it. He dies of lead poisoning. It might sound extremely grave but let's face it, it's a possibility. The hundreds of billions of choices, not only your own but also of everyone around you, that have gone into you being where you are is no laughing matter.

The second factor is natural circumstances or quirks of mother nature. Earthquakes, volcanoes, cyclones, a snapped electrical conduit, an oil spill... I don't have to elaborate on this I'm sure.

So the bottom line here is that any occurrence is a melange of choices (everybody's) and natural circumstances (quirks).

What I do not understand is why does tomorrow have to be predestined. Even if one sits down to calculate the probability of an event happening tomorrow, we are walking a tightrope when dealing with the highly complex and uncertain variables involved. The predictions will have to be made considering the likelihood of a natural (uncontrollable and unforeseeable) event happening at a particular time in the future accompanied with a certain choice made not only by you but also by everyone affecting you. The easiest variable to predict would be your choices though even this requires a tremendous amount of insight into human nature and is still not fool proof.

We've definitely come a long way in the science and art of prediction but lets not fool ourselves with the presence of divine interventions. Agreed, we cannot explain certain events of mammoth proportions like the creation of the universe and the genesis of life. But, that is an indicator not of god's infinite powers but our own limited intellect. Whatever makes us think that the human race is the smartest species in the universe! There are definitely realms of knowledge far too complex for our brains as things stand today. I'm not being a cynic but quite blatantly optimistic about human potential. We have come this far and I believe we will get much farther if only we live our lives by our virtues and not our weaknesses.

From coincidences to god... One could ask about what brought about the shift of my flow of thought. Humans try to glamorize their lives. Why? Because they think it isn't significant the way it is. Add some magical presence external to our beings capable of transforming our humble existence into something meaningful and you've caught the attention of the majority. What they don't realize is that we are already magnificent just the way we are. Born free with the virtue of potential for productive endeavor.

I am immediately taken back to what Ayn Rand stood for. "My philosophy", she said, "in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest ability, and reason his only absolute."

So things happen the way they do happen not because there are some unknown designs to your life that were drawn out by this divine entity that many call God but simply because of the intricate interaction of the delicate matrix of choices and natural circumstances that are, within the limitations of my intellect, unpredictable.

Instead of giving meaning to the fact that something happened, it would be more productive in making the most of whatever has happened because it will never happen again. Moments lost are moments lost. Nothing can be done to relive those moments. So if confronted by moments that have seemingly been given to you by divine intervention, try not thinking about what has been written in your destiny. Think instead of what you wish to write on the empty slate of your future.

Evolution of "voices"

These are thoughts that I put into words at a time where my ideologies and emotions were crystallizing almost a year ago. This is the time i was acquanted with myself. I wrote all this to myself just as I do now.
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Perfection is the present and the past and the future. It is everything and nothing. Ying and Yang is the ideal definition of perfection. Is perfection balance?

Reaction Mechanism. My fears. I give parts of myself and suddenly realize that it is too much and withdraw completely fearing that I will be asked for more. Draw the line or give my 100%?

A true relationship would be one in which there is no line and one can give their 100% and not stop and not regret it.

Love is being there for someone? What if that someone will grow stronger and happier without you being there? If you care, won't you let this happen?

All humans want happiness. It's strange, the variety of things they do to achieve it! One needs to fully understand happiness.

Language is such an inefficient tool!

Knowledge of self. Such a rare quality. Brely anyone ever strives for it. Why? It is considered selfish and wrong, why?

Why do I like Bombay so much? It's like a prototype of ying and yang. ie. The light and the dark. Perfection is a startling contrast.

Emotions are natural. Anger, sadness, satisfaction, envy, bliss etc... Some emotions create inner disharmony and some create harmony. We categorize them as negative and positive. A confluence of emotions is an indication of a life well lived?

Why not only happiness? If one realizes the value of this happiness and does not take it for granted, maybe. For the rest, it isn't happiness at all.

So adversity breeds brilliance. Negative emotions and experiences open doors to fully experiencing happiness.

Why does reasoning, questioning and understanding curb the potential to experience?

If one gets carried away with questions, even experience creates question marks and not moments. A balance of knowledge and experience is essential then to create a mosaic called life.

I feel connections through the eyes I think! Eyes are the window to the heart. It is so shockingly true when we keep advocating not to judge a book by its cover. If my feeling is true then eyes are not a cover but a window to the cover, a window that is open to whoever wants to look through.

A connection! Beautiful... For me it's a feeling that I can trust someone with what I value so much... me.

Why does it sometimes seem like effort to maintain a connection? Positive and negative emotions and thoughts. Connections are formed because of positive in spite of negative... It is avoiding the negative that sometimes takes effort.

Love-Being there
Trust-Live and let live
Respect-Recognise individuality

Where does the physical aspect come in? A melange of positive emotions or attraction (physical). Sex could be the last level to a relationship. A culmination into the physical through the emotional and intellectual. This is what it means to me. It could also be simply a result of attraction in a purely physical sense.

The contours of the horizon overpowered by the deep black sky overpowered by the plethora of stars as though in mirth of their victory.
We sit around to witness the dancing flames crying out in a victory of its own.
Which is the bigger victory? The dancing flames or thetwinkling stars?
Where the trumpets sound simply in the joy of existence. I believe the biggest victory is theirs. The sky, the stars, the flames and us are all victors in the battle of existence!

Battle of existence? What are we fighting? Negative circumstances, emotions and thoughts...

Exclusivity in a relationship. Isn't there always exclusivity? Why control for monopoly? Why control for anything at all?

It takes courage to take responsibility for one's actions.

Every relationship is determined by its own set of variables.

Fondnesss amongst/from children could simply come from freedom (encouraging it).

I'm gettin closer to myself. I can feel it. The feeling of authenticity is creeping in quite dramatically into my persona.

What is missing someone? We live so many beautiful moments everyday. It could mean wanting to share these moments while they happen with this special someone.

Life has so much to offer!!

The day wanes, the senses flare
As though the darkness has power to share
A torrent of thoughts flood the mind and soul
The potent spirit, with ecstacy its goal.

When hammer and heat combine
yielding power divine
turning jagged metal
into a sword so fine.

Meeta. What drew me to her is her ability to feel. The aura of a person who wants to be and enjoy every moment of it. In the agony and in the joys, she throbs with life! I'm happy she exists...

There is so much going on behind me,
but I find solace in myself and the great black sea.
The horizon twinkles with dots of light.
The oceans and sky seem one at sight.

On an invisible stretch of this road called life,
each precious moment is a beacon that overshadows all our times of strife.
A day will come when these pillars of light become symbols of joy in our mosaic of memories.

Watching a lone white stork flying into the shadow of the night,
my ignited heart urges for flight.

The rythm of the waves sparks a rythm in my heart
A rythm of life, a song of hope, a journey that must start.

The hypocrisy and the hysterics drown me.
The rocks are my refuge.

Kadam badhathe ja
manzil ek kadam aage rakh kar
jeet ke pyale piye ja!

The fatigue of a day
deflated by this moment of flight,
the darkness washed out
by a beam of light.
My heart beats in a body of steel
fuelled by the vision of the road, i feel. (To michelle)

Your boat was moored by her side,
waiting idle for the tide.
The time is right, u've found the oars
and the oceans are open wide.

The moon peeps through the clouds,
it's light shining like a pearly shroud
proclaiming the death of day and the birth of night.
The shadows moving like solitary beings.
Even the shadows deny the company one needs.

A ripple so great,
a pebble so small.
For dreams so big,
No wall is tall.

If silence was a flowing river,
one could drift as if forever.
Silence of our heads and hearts
is tougher than our calm facades.

A connection of choice

The psychological break-up of humans is too complex even for a variety of labels being attributed to a single individual. Our beings are composed of not only our circumstances but also the choices that we have made through these circumstances. When judging another, a simple background survey is drastically inadequate. By judging, I do not imply any moral connotation of good or bad, right or wrong. It is an amoral analysis of another personality in relation to your own. It is the groundwork to understanding a relationship.

So labeling is inadequate when dealing with people... especially those who have grown beyond conformism. Each human being is a unique entity. I make this statement even for the mobs. Every single person in a flock who draws his or her sense of security and belonging from that group has been subject to subtly or substantially different circumstances compared to the others and made some unique choices along the way as well. What defines him or her is not only the actions but also the reasons behind those actions.

So, am I suggesting that every human being deserves equal consideration owing to the uniqueness inherent in them? No.

I believe in connections, relationships that bloom from commonalities in fundamental feelings, beliefs, personality traits and actions. Though trying to give form to any "criteria" is not as esoteric as one would think, going by these beliefs (only) would be too dogmatic and superficial an approach to discovering the depths inherent in human behavior.

Self-love in the prime determinant of a holistic interactive process. If one is indulging in a relationship for reasons such as altruism, insecurity, domination or subversion, it will inevitably lead to a dependency syndrome where the people involved are drawing upon the strengths (or weaknesses) of each other.

Before relating to another human being, it is important to understand yourself and love who you are. It is critical to be honest with yourself about your intentions and feelings (whatever they may be).

One might think that this closes doors to that seemingly abstract concept of love. How can one be an egocentric and love another person at the same time. This will be crystal clear, if you understand the reason for loving another. We love another not for their weaknesses but their virtues, never with sympathy only with respect and understanding. Love is amongst equals in spirit. Anything else is a compromise.

Comfort in one's nakedness is another factor that determines the efficacy of a connection. When there need to be no facades and no inhibitions to a free flow of interaction, we have a true bond. "You" and "I" will never become "Us" if we aren't acquainted and comfortable with the nakedness of our beings, every virtue and every flaw.

This is when silences become blissful and not a burden. This is when a smile means more than a word. This is when a glance is enough to express an emotion.

Man is a social animal they say... Man is a dew drop I say, that requires a leaf to condense upon. Connections are not a compulsion. The dew drop always existed as vapors but could only take shape on the leaf. There are some things we learn about ourselves only in the presence of another who understands.

The fully human being

The fully human person is in deep and meaningful contact with the world outside him.

He not only listens to himself, but to the voices of the world. The breadth of his own individual experience is infinitely multiplied through a sensitive empathy with others. He suffers with the suffering, rejoices with the joyful. He is born again in every springtime, feels the impact of the great mysteries of life: birth, growth, love, suffering, death. His heart skips along with the "young lovers," and he knows something of the exhilaration that is in them. He also knows of the ghetto's philosophy of despair, the loneliness of suffering without relief, and the bell never tolls without tolling in some strange way for him.

- John Powell

The edge is near

Swollen veins, throbbing heart
face taut, eyes hard

A body built to fly,
a mind fit for war

Waiting can be a torture,
patience a thorn

Idleness is a burden
like chaining wings to the ground

The sweat drips slowly
of excitement not fatigue

While the hands shudder
with the life inside urging for flight

What brings a smile is a simple thought...
The edge is near and I feel my wings willing and strong.

Bodies crash

The open window breathes in
the dim light and cool breeze

that caresses the body
bare and beautiful, soft and smooth

the shadows add to the contours
that stress the passion and ignite the senses

a desire to explore the textures, curves and crevices
and feel the passion bursting forth...

the pleasure that unfolds is a pleasure shared
by both the souls

Connections

The masses are dreadfully inconsequential in my scheme of life. Once in a rare while i crash into someone who is free... free from the inanities of conformism. It's like a patch of warm sunlight on a chilly day. Like a dew drop in the desert :-)

There are no boundaries to connections. Startling similarities become a pleasant reality. Words become redundant because the foundations are already built. Built by the reality of our existence. Words serve only one purpose then; a means to accentuating more pleasure in our (already pleasurable) lives!

Sharing visions, thoughts, feelings and actions is what makes a relationship. Anything short of this is a compromise usually struck to camouflage the voids.

My life is wonderful! It's worth living... :-)

The dance

I close my eyes, clench my teeth, lift my arms and face another man with tensed jaws and heavy breaths.

We dance in a painful synchrony raining punches upon each other, with our bodies feeling the consequences of every decision; his and mine.

My instincts peaked and yet Boom! a stray fist lands right into my jaw. I look back and smile... It's a privilege to bear the consequences of the flaws in my style.

I charge again, we spar again and this dance goes on till we can barely move. The feeling of being matched by an equal in skill... of a fight where victory or defeat doesn't come easy... of two eyes sure and passionate testing each other... is ecstatic... it brings me back those visions i hold of standing high up on a tree and challenging the storm with arms wide open!

Money and Freedom

The primary argument in a session yesterday was whether nations should be grateful to their colonizers for the infrastructure and systems they left behind. The very base of this argument was ridiculous!

The primary concept under debate was making a choice between economic progress and Freedom. Putting these as options together is grotesque.

Politics!

There will always be variety in the human race, there will always be anomalies, there will always be miscreants and reformists and governments and conflicts. The very thought of aligning human beings with a common code of conduct is unrealistic.

We are not heading for a more uniform world full of peace and prosperity. Let us have this very clear... There will always be someone or something to fight so as to mitigate the damages inflicted upon our lives and our freedom.

Freedom!

What makes this concept so amorphous?

Does doing something out of self interest involve stepping upon another man's toes, stealing some one's bread and harming someone intentionally not as a reaction but a deliberate and planned action?

Here is my stand...

The only morality I know about is living of my own productive capacity and free will or die trying. I refuse to live life as a compromise. At the same time, I do not want to die, therefore, I will do what it takes to live life on my own two feet and not as a parasite.

Where do I draw the line?

Don't corner me. Don't deliberately try extracting from me what I hold most dear. I will defend it because I love it.

Apply this to the national level... Inconceivable! I know.. But then, that is my only political point of view. I wont even try to superimpose this ideology on the behavior of governments and nations.

"Hey, you!", They will shout, wielding a gun... "WE are going to make something of your pathetic lives whether you like it or not."

"WHY!... The impudence of it!... You have already lost your right to ask that..."

Every man has a part to play. I refuse to play messiah. The president plays his part, the terrorist plays his, the revolutionary plays another, the peacekeepers play more... I play mine. Nobody writes my script but me and I don't try changing anyone's scripts either. They make their choices and I make mine.

So much for my penchant for Politics!

A smile

I close my eyes
and breathe in the cold air

Dwelling in those moments
of passion that form a part of my being

I feel the very emotions that
flooded me as we coalesced

I live again amidst those rushing visions,
those ignited sensations

These are the memories
that I hold close and embrace in my solitude

These are the thoughts that
bring a smile to my soul..

The Atheist

We often succumb to usage of incomplete words to define a consummate thought or feeling. I made the same error while using this word... "Atheist". Literally, it means a person who does not believe in God. Though this is a sweeping statement, I would like to define each of these terms for myself.

God. People regard God as everything they are not, everything that is beyond their comprehension. It is in this context that I am an Atheist. I do not believe in what I do not understand. Blind faith is an emotion that I will not evoke, not as a conscious choice but a natural way of life. That makes me an Agnostic Atheist to be more specific.

Now If I were to assume that God were a supreme entity. Then that would be me. I am the center of my world, so that makes me God according to this analogy. I assume that every self respecting individual would say exactly the same thing and not subjugate his or her own existence to that of a higher being.

However, this entire exercise is futile. Firstly, I label myself and then try explaining it. What a thorough waste of time!

Burst of life

A light streaks across the pitch black sky
lighting up a path reflecting the glow above.

The water pours from the heavens with a graceful caress
touching my warm skin as though to comfort a body
rearing for action, craving to fly into the dark night towards the setting sun.

The droplets streak diagonally across the glass like
tadpoles of light with a life of their own hurrying towards
what seems like home.

The puddles smoothen the rough roads and carry away the
remains of the day making way for another morning
of toil and rest, joy and distress.

Glory to God!

What instigates such a passion for this guy called god that brings tears to peoples eyes as they sing with all the energy they've got worshipping and praising Jesus?! I had to ignore the meaning of every hymn to enjoy the rhythms in isolation.

They disembodied the concept of God for starters and labelled Jesus with it. The implications of this is self-evident. I can never be what I believe is god. So you are a servant down on earth simply to exercise God's will? You'll find most Christians nodding vigorously in approval to a statement such as this.

The implications of this could be disastrous. All I have to do is create an amorphous, benevolent entity that will always love and forgive you no matter how pathetic you think you are (which is usually the case), and I'll have a bunch of individuals flocking to this theory with every ounce of potential they have. These religious honchos don't need to be spectacularly intelligent to see this as an opportunity to further their personal purposes.

I'm an Atheist and it amuses me to have people asking you everything but, "what do you feel?" They don't want to hear anything that would lead them to questioning their faith. I am not capable, on the other hand, to have faith in something I do not understand. I refuse to bow down to some one's image of greatness detached from everything human. "Don't be afraid to shout Alleluia in this church!", the priest told me at the church today... He thought I was afraid! The thought of it had me smiling in mirth for the next 5 minutes. Afraid of what?! Their God?! The congregation?! Him?!

Every task that requires human potential to see it through they, "leave unto the hands of Jesus" as though humans are born impotent! They are born subverted to the power of some twisted amorphous conception either of an idiot or an exceedingly smart and evil man.

What disgusts me is that they can use this entity and concept to justify any action in the name of their damn God (paradox intended!).

Look inside yourself with an open spirit, free of fear and preconceived notions. See what you find and then tell me if it's anything less powerful than this concept of God. I've found myself and that's all I will require to take me through my life. The spiritual food of religion is nothing but bullshit for me useful for producing a lot of gas... That's all.

Floating

Solitude is rejuvenated. It stimulates my senses. Sitting amidst a confluence of nature and concrete, I was craving for my camera.

Alas! That’s one of those beautiful things I left behind.

What then is my alternative to expression? Words, of course!

I’ll embark then on a description of the world that surrounds me at this very instant.

It feels like a symphony of man-made geometry and natural abstraction. The towering trees partially embraced by the setting sun standing proudly upon waves of grass punctuated by tufts of shrubs in shades of yellow and green, all coalescing into a sudden perpendicular burst of concrete, glass and metal.

The sunlight falls at angles across the façade of a cubical structure out of which sprouts a wooden platform held together by triangular metal beams which seem to grow into another identical cube of glass and concrete… in various shades of grey.

The symbiosis I witness before me seems nestled against the backdrop of a clear blue sky with rough streaks of clouds that looked like an artist ran a brush dipped in water right across the fresh blue expanse. Amongst these haphazard patterns one could see almost perfectly straight parallel white lines left behind by a stray airplane.

The people around me are at peace. Laughing, smiling, talking, learning, thinking…

I feel free as I walk down these corridors. Free to reach into the infinity that surround me, free to feel, free of facades… It’s analogous to a perpetual outward burst of ecstasy when the space around you is splattered with the colors of your spirit. Orgasmic!

Such is my university.

Shudders

I shuddered with anger today. The kind of anger that brings me tears. The kind of anger that stems from my respect for humans... for mankind.

I felt this while flipping through a collection of some war photography covering inhuman acts of war through Afghanistan, Iran, Vietnam and other nations ravaged by human evil. Calling man an animal for this behaviour would not do justice to any animal. Animals kill to survive. Man begins to feel sadistic pleasure while inflicting pain and death around him. Animals aren't capable of cruelty. Only man can feel pure cruelty.

Mangled, bloody bodies grovelling in the dust and debris of the world fallen around them devastated by grenades and bullets. Faces of humans contorted with wrath, weilding guns and batons, looming over another human who is cowering for his life... his very existence. I saw evil in those eyes.

The brilliance of mankind overpowered by evil! A man staring coldly at another man squinting in helpless anguish with a revolver stabbed against his temple seconds before his death. Right wing activists slamming a chair against the head of a dead leftist already hanged with his body already broken. People surrounding this scene some staring coldly, some in awe and some smiling. I won't describe the smile.

WHY?!

Taking pleasure in another man's suffering. What could instigate such a feeling in man? Why?

Making human life the equivalent of a twig that can be broken at the whim of a fanatic. Why? Don't they see the potential and value of human lives? Don't they love themselves? Don't they feel?

Politics! It's horrendous just to imagine the honchos doing the high-level diplomatic talk while nations destroy each other. Not addressing the loss of lives but the protection of some amorphous concept of 'society'! Are those people who are killing themselves and killing others not part of this damn society of theirs!

What is the solution? To destroy the people who are already dead... I wonder if there is an alternative... Until then I will believe in and do what is most necessary when it is most necessary.

Life!

At the age of 13, Lydia fell in love with a grand opera tenor. She kept his pictureon her dresser, with a single red rose in a thin crystal glass beside it. At the age of fifteen, she fell in love with Saint Francis of Assisi, who talked to birds and helped the poor, and she dreamed of entering the convent.

Kira had never been in love. The only hero she had known was a Viking whose story she had read as a child; a Viking whose eyes never looked farther than the point of his sword, but there was no boundary for the point of his sword; a Viking who walked through life, breaking barriers and reaping victories, who walked through ruins while the sun made a crown over his head, but he walked, light and straight, without noticing his weight; a Viking who laughed at kings, who laughed at priests, who looked at heaven only when he bent for a drink over a mountain brook and there, overshadowing the sky, he saw his own picture; a Viking who lived but for the joy and the wonder and the glory of the god that was himself.

Kira did not remember the books she read before that legend; she did not want to remember the ones she read after it. But through the years that followed, she remembered the end of the legend: when the Viking stood on a tower over a city he had conquered. The Viking smiled as men smile when they look up at heaven; but he looked down. His right arm was one straight line with his lowered sword; his left arm straight as the sword, raised a goblet of wine to the sky. The first rays of a coming sun, still unseen to the earth, struck the crystal goblet. It sparkled like a white torch. It's rays lighted the faces of those below. "To a life," said the Viking, "which is a reason unto itself."

- Ayn Rand, We the Living

I'm home

Home for me is just to be
with swelling sails, out at sea

Strange is the urge that seems to grow
both for the ocean and the shore

My eyes follow the setting sun
greeting the journey that has begun

I feel the wind against my chest
as my heart beats back in jest

As I turn to see what was left behind,
another horizon is all i find

I choose which way my boat will sail
come tide or darkness, wave or gale

Full speed ahead!

Well, here I am. New place, new people, new lifestyle, new priorities...

Yet, I don't feel alien to anything around me. I feel exhilarated with the amount of discoveries I will make and intrigued by the novelty of my circumstances, fascinated by the opportunities, not alienated at all.

The world seems to form around me blooming before my eyes as though it existed because I exist.

The variables don't change substantially with geographical boundaries. The basic set of emotions and reactions amongst the people around me has remained the same. What differs is the circumstances that instigate these reactions. What matters the most is that I have remained the same.

I look into the horizon occasionally, knowing that beyond it lies the world I left behind. It does not make me grieve. "It's just another horizon", i think... "another journey that I will make soon". Until then, I'll feel the ground I'm standing on, breathe in the fragrances around me, learn from my circumstances and grow.

This journey of life is spectacular! I wont let it stop. I'll follow the sinking stars unto the horizons that never seem to end until the sun sets before me. Ulysses feels like my comrade as I speak!

Amorphous sensations

A shudder of anticipation

a caressing glance of acceptance

The deep blue sky is the backdrop

to this exchange of souls

The world streams by

unable to stress it's presence

Passions bloom

like flowers in spring time

Words are made redundant

in the ceaseless gush of expressions

Bliss has a form, it is this.

Fountainhead

I write this knowing that my words will be an understatement to what this book stands for. I write this, like always, for myself. I write this in my never ending pursuit of bridging the gap between thoughts, feelings and expressions.

Fountainhead written by Ayn Rand is a tribute to the heroic in man. A hero that exists in each of us most often drowned in the torrent of the majorities. The virtue of self-love is the root to all other legitimate emotions and thoughts. One must start by agreeing that one exists and then move on to using the 'I' in the truest sense of the word.

The world around treat their own existence with contempt and pass this on to their progeny. This is a vicious cycle with very few anomalies. These iconoclasts are antagonised to a point where it seems like living for oneself is a sacrilege. Selflessness and altruism are glorified and the world begins moving into nothingness. People become nothing but a collective void feeding on the fountainhead.

Ayn Rand has written Fountainhead for those that understand, accept and live it and not for the multitude that don't. What makes the book even more endearing is that she wrote it primarily for herself.

Roark, Dominique, Toohey and Keating are not people but symbols for attributes present within all of us. It's our choices that connect us to them. The love, passion, hate, suffering, conformism, selflessness and cruelty are all portrayed using these characters. The very fact that some can visualize and connect to the characters and the emotions that went into driving this character is a tribute to Ayn's work.

Pure, raw, unblemished thoughts, feelings and passionate individuality are what I saw in this book.

"My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being , with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest ability, and reason as his only absolute" - Ayn Rand

No black

It's a force powerful enough to shake souls and break many. I feel it in pulses searing through my being ripping through my senses. I feel it permeate but only this much. It won't break me... only make me stronger.

Pain isn't darkness. Darkness would mean attributing it with nothingness. I don't see black, I see a blood red. I choose the path and embrace all the possibilities including the most painful one. We often underestimate that one.

Why do people not want to look into themselves? Why does blood count? What makes people mould lives proportional to the norms of everything around them instead of nurturing freedom? Do I really want to know these answers? Why does the lack of answers hurt me?

I feel the rocks burning against my palms, the scorching heat on my head, fatigue piercing every muscle in my body and a heart burning with a desire to get to the pinnacle. The pinnacle of existence.. of life.. of me.

Expression

Feelings and thoughts can be so complex and unique. Most often, we use words as our means express these. There are some sensations that are painfully difficult to express in words. Nevertheless, my relentless foray into using language to the fullest continues.

"What is the alternative to words?", I kept asking myself. Why do I need an alternative to words? To get a thought across to someone who does not know about its existence and as a result does not understand it. One could choose to complement verbal expression with eyes, body language, tones, pauses, volume etc. This leads to a more consummate form of communication.

Until recently, I felt communication was necessary to express something. What when you simply know what someone thinks and feels! Makes communication redundant in this case. I do not speak of a surreal telepathic relationship but a connection where the souls are so exposed that any form of communication becomes either redundant or inadequate.

Setting sail

The oceans beckon
while the island I leave behind
has it's arms wide open in an embrace.

I take my island with me
on this journey into the unknown.

Times may change,
these moments will stay forever
engraved in my spirit.

Moments of passion, ecstasy, bliss,
connections, sensations, purity, comfort...

When I will return, i know not.
But return, I will.

Feeling emotions to their fullest
stretching my being to what seems like bursting point.

Knowing that I won't cave in,
knowing i won't succumb.

Walking my path is torturous...
and blissful since the path is MINE.

The space I call home

Itinerant, as my life has inevitably been, it’s time for another change. Talk about adrenaline rushes! The step off the comfortably predictable onto the unpredictable edge, not knowing what is to become of me. I walk away knowing and feeling only the complete existence of my body and soul. Will it hurt to leave? Yes, terribly. I now understand what Roark meant when he said that it hurt only up to a certain point. I feel it through me for what I leave behind and what I carry with me.

People may feel freedom after shrugging of their shackles of comfort zones. I was already free and venture into the unknown with the same freedom. What do I feel? I leave myself here as I move away. There’ll always be a pull because these moments are such a fundamental part of me. This does not imply that I don’t take myself on this journey. I’ve shared so much of myself with the circumstances here that they’ve become an indelible part of me. I carry all this with me wherever I go. That is what will bring me back someday; connection, love, passion, freedom, ecstasy, energy, sensuality and soul.

I’m home with the memories, feelings and thoughts. I’ll soon be home with reality.

Moderation?

Madhyamaka is the vista to salvation. This is what Buddha believed. Madhyamaka must necessarily imply moderation of emotions and actions. Passion is not a moderate emotion... in fact, nowhere near the median!

Do I really want the madhyamaka? Am i ready for it yet? Have I experienced both extremes? How is one to understand the value of the middle path without knowing the extremes?

I prefer to dwell in my passion for now. Madhyamaka can wait.

Ulysses

Typing this simple word makes my hands shudder with excitement... "Ulysses" Every time I read this poem, it fuels my passion to strive, to seek, to find and not to yield... The very thought is Orgasmic!

With tears of joy that someone, somewhere thought this way and that I am not alone, I engulf myself in the intensity of these thoughts, feelings and words...

------------------------------------------------

Ulysses - Alfred Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife,
I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
Life to the lees.
All times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea. I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known,-- cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honor'd of them all,
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains; but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.


This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
to whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfill
This labor, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.


There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail;
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me,
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads,-- you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honor and his toil.
Death closes all; but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends.
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho
'We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Judgement or analysis

When I think about it now, judgement is so subjective. Yeah, I'd rather call it analysis. I am doing this because judgement seems to have a moral connotation and I speak of purely ammoral inference.

Humans are too complex to be swept aside in the wink of an eye. However, most of our gut feelings are true because people have a basic aura and we learn to sense this aura when our hearts and minds are open to these inputs. Yet, there always exists a margin of error and we must be aware of this as well.

The crux here is being open to the world but not open enough to lose yourself in the process.

Judge not

For ye shall be judged in the kingdom of heaven.

From childhood, I’ve been asked not to judge. Why? Because the authority to judge rests with god. “Blah!”, I thought as a child. “Then all I’m supposed to do is see!”

This made life look pretty boring changing me from an almighty human being to a docile living creature whose life itself depended upon the judgment of the lord.

Why do I say that life is restricted to seeing? Because, understanding something in totality is what leads to wisdom and holistic understanding involves not only the subject in question but also its moral/ethical and allied impacts. So wisdom then would mean logical interpretation and judgment.

I must add to this that being an agnostic atheist adds a considerable advantage to this stance. There is no big guy writing the rule book for me perched on a throne in heaven… So hey! I guess I’ll have to do it by myself!

What makes a judgment of a human different from that of a wine? I analyze the characteristics of both and decide what I like about them and what I don’t. Then what does the world have against the former?

A human without these opinions is more like a non entity watching the world pass by and doing nothing because it isn’t allowed the right to react. Very much like a surveillance camera that watches stoically as a bank is looted with nothing more than empty black stare to offer.

I’d like to rewrite a couple of the commandments then.

1. I judge therefore I am.
2. I am, therefore I fear not another man’s judgment.

Sorry big guy. The glory is all mine for now!

Shunyatha

Shunyatha or nothingness: the concept of non-existence propagated by the Buddhists. I like their take on the creation of the universe. “Everything”, they say “arises from nothing”. The seed of everything around us (including us) is present in the nothingness that came before. The roots, therefore, of all that exists is in this pregnant primordial nothingness. Various sects believe that meditation focused upon this shunyatha makes us one with the universe. This, in their opinion, is the rightful place of all living spirits.

Now selfish as I am, the first question I ask is… “How do I retain the ‘I’ after becoming part of the whole?” So far that doesn’t look like a possibility.

One way to look at it would be that the niche of the universe that is me cannot ever be filled by anyone else. So I fill MY niche to blend with the whole. But, on doing this, I AM THE WHOLE!

Principally, this sounds like an attractive option. I will have to wait until my rendezvous with an informed Buddhist though.

Until then, I cruise on through this cluttered world of experiences feeding my senses, intellect and emotions, simply being me.

Democratic leadership

This is something I wrote more than a year ago. It's interesting to look back into my logic as it was back then and feel the evolution.

A Democracy typically implies a situation where every individual has the right to contribute to the decisions of the group. His/her view definitely features in the final conclusion. He could be part of the winning majority or the losing minority; but, he is a part of the whole.

Now, leadership implies influencing/ controlling/ manipulating a group to work in unity. Unity is something that is not characteristic to a typical group. Every individual has a perspective and assuming that every person’s perspective in the group synchronises would be unrealistic. Therefore, leadership is what helps glue the group together in spite of their differences. This is done by emphasising on one commonality amongst this set of diverse individuals; the Objective.

Another term I would like to emphasise is facilitation. Facilitation involves coordination and management of an activity. It acts like a catalyst. From a group perspective, facilitation would mean enhancing the thought process within the group and giving it direction.

What I would like to emphasise through this discourse is that Democratic Leadership does not exist. These two terms contradict each other. If there needs to be a democracy, there cannot exist leadership at the same time. Yes, democracy can exist before leadership is elected, but not with leadership in place.

Democracy involves respecting every individuals opinion and featuring it in the final decision. Democracy has its obvious drawbacks like the multitude of ideas and perspective and the turmoil this can cause in any group effort. However, the answer to this is not leadership because leadership curbs true democracy.

Therefore, the term ‘Democratic Leadership’ is not a congruent statement. It should be modified to ‘Democratic Facilitation’ because democracy and facilitation complement each other.

"Boulevard Of Broken Dreams"

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and
I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps and
I'm the only one and I walk alone

"My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Till then I walk alone

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line
Of the edge and where I walk alone
Read between the lines
What's fucked up and everything's alright
Check my vital signs
To know I'm still alive and I walk alone
I walk alone

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Till then I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Til then I walk alone..."

Get the depression out of this song and it, quite aptly, defines my journey.
Some join me through this journey and leave when it's time.
It isn't easy saying goodbye. But, I take solace in the fact that they also leave me with
the indelible impressions of experience that forms a part of my soul. I take these wherever
I am because they are part of the definition of Michael James.

Unconditional love

Initially this word didn’t mean much to me. However, there are simply so many ways to look at it. The ambiguity in this topic gives it an almost mystical effect!

One way would be to contemplate over the ubiquitous mother and child relationship, unconditional in the true sense of the word. What distresses me in this case, however, is that it doesn’t matter WHO the child is. She would love him or her anyway. That makes the human being substitutable and the title of child being his or her only claim necessary to earn the mothers love.

However, unconditional emotional is a frame of mind. Unconditional bliss, for example, would be a bliss that transcends circumstances. It would be a natural state of mind similar to nirvana. One would feel bliss doing anything his or her soul heads towards.

In the 1st case, the folly was connecting the emotion to a specific person. We could, as an alternative, detach the person and simply focus on the emotion to describe the existence of an unconditional element of feeling. We could feel unconditional love not necessarily for a person in particular but towards nothing and everything. That is the only justifiable existence of this phenomenon.

Love for a particular person must necessarily take into consideration the person involved. We love someone for their virtues. It’s a unique individual we fall in love with, not a substitutable object like an empty desk in an MNC.

That particular love will never die. It remains as a part of our beings as we explore different facets of this magnificent emotion.

Why?

A perpetual cascade of questions
ooze from a vibrant mind.

Answers are manna, graphic
yet discreet and hard to find.

Our amorphous beings given form
by the answers we dared to discover.

Chaos of questions punctuated
with the placidity of knowledge.

A soul devoid of questions accepts the world
wrapped around it in cadaverous servitude.

Mine ventures forth on this mysterious road
that men call existence and I call opportunity.

We the people

We are a confluence of circumstances and choices. They are the two variables that define our personality. Within every human being, there is a unique essence. An essence capable of colouring his or her character with a mosaic that is different from anyone else. This bastion is often eroded or manipulated by circumstances.

However, what also matters is what we make of those circumstances. Our choices every step of the way manipulate the road ahead and could happen at a conscious or an unconscious level. Every little thing makes a difference to the way we live our lives. How? We will never know. We can only speculate on the possibilities.

Flying a kite is about the symbiosis of these two great elements. The winds (circumstances) and the skill of the flyer (choices). This is the stuff man is made of and the true individuals are most often nestled behind layers of facades built over the years spent in blatant, mindless conformism and an abysmal self-respect. Peel the facades and you have the redolent signs of life.

Stereotypes

Why waste time with stereotypes? At least, not at this stage of my life. I lived enough to identify a stereotype and it’s now time to separate the wheat from the chaff.

We live in a world overflowing with clichés. Most human beings find it safer to conform to these clichés than use their own judgment and logic. It’s tiring to see the plethora of people walking by speaking the same language of banal conformism. It’s refreshing to bump into INDIVIDUALS these days!

Differentiation amongst plebeians and individuals comes easy to me. All I have to ask myself through a conversation is… “Am I speaking to a unique individual having his or her own views or to the society at large that is apparently voicing its opinion through this docile being?” The answer is mostly immediate and largely accurate.

This is not about being a conformist or an iconoclast. It is about being oneself; a person free of pressures, an individual confident about expressing what he or she feels and not what the world feels. It’s then that communication becomes vibrant and productive!

Fortifying chaos

We often come across situations where our hard-earned peace must be defended from circumstances bursting with unpredictability and chaos. How often does one reach a point where unpredictability needs protection?

I’m standing face to face with the uncertainty of certainty. The oxymoron here is only perceived. If looked into, it reveals an intriguing rationale. My recent past is flushed with millions of moments… all a result of the spontaneity prevalent in my circumstances and my personality. I find this chaos comforting and have kept life moving at a fast pace, fast enough to keep me ebullient. My future seems menacing now… menacingly slow!

There was never a dearth of the doors of opportunity. I kept knocking and had the choice to turn away from them if I did not like what I found inside. I want it to be that way forever. Now that I think about this, it boils down to change. However, the change I speak of is not a change in circumstances but a change in the way I look at these circumstances. I thrive on change and would not ever want to live a life devoid of it. That is what worries me.

I relate this to the feeling that burst through my being atop the last cliff I scaled. It’s the feeling of looking at the edge without knowing the path to survival until I stepped off. The only truth is the distant world below streaked with traces of life and more cliffs in the horizon waiting to be conquered.

The past in the present

Mumbai has not always been this way; a haze of people, vehicles and animals. A mosaic of cultural and monetary diversity centered around the ideal of progress.

What started out as a commercial fishing port in the 16th century with a population of around 10,000 people is now a booming metro, home to around 20 million people. Nothing is the same anymore… or is it.

Take a walk around the erstwhile Metro theatre, now Metro Adlabs and you will see exactly what I mean. Through the construction debris of an upcoming subway, nestled in the façade of a non-descript building built in 1914 are two quaint reminders of our past that have survived the test of time and the spate of cultural and economic revolutions that have shaken this city without eroding their antiquated charm.

It’s a rare opportunity to take walks down the memory lane with all the lanes in this city turning into bustling concrete roads. However, take a break from all that with some mawa cake and irani chai at Kyani and Co. and soak in the rhythms that cascade from the myriad musical instruments at Furtados and you’ll get a peek preview into the Mumbai that was.

Furtados was started in 1864 by two brothers in the same area. Business back then was quite erratic but persistence got them through one and a half centuries of ups and downs. Today this name is considered generic for any musical equipment ranging from electric guitars to the Indian flute. They are the oldest musical instrument supplier in Mumbai. “We have evolved with time”, says Mr. Anthony Gomes, one of the current owners of this store. “Considering our ready stock of around 20,000 items at any given time, we are working towards synchronizing our business with the world around”, he adds. They are also having a repositioning exercise that may soon put Furtados in the big league of musical instrument suppliers. Evolving with time may be easy for large corporate houses but not as easy with a one and a half century old music store.

Add to this their participation in the Palm India Expo 2007 happening this month from the 7th to the 9th and we have a truly progressive old timer. The Palm 2007 is one of the only exhibitions in India that specializes in musical equipment ranging from sound systems to lighting. Furtados is showcasing some of its own snazzy equipment at this exposition. They believe that it works as an excellent platform for showcasing their products.

While we have Furtados bracing itself for the future, just next door is Kyani and co. who are quite comfortable with the way things have been since 1904. “Even our furniture is the same!” exclaims Mr. A.K. Irani, the current owner of this homely eatery. Everything about this restaurant is around a hundred years old except for the refrigerators that seem starkly out of place and of course the food! The charm of having a meal here is in the antiquity of it all accentuated by the paradox of the life outside. It’s almost like an anachronism when we compare the relaxed interiors to the frantic street beyond.

One might want to take a different view about development after spending some time at Kyani. Most players in this industry end up becoming unsuccessful hybrids of the past and the present, frantic to appropriate the most from our booming economy. Kyani, on the other hand, have a dedicated clientele who literally swear by their irani chai and profit doesn’t matter as long as everyone is happy. “Restructuring and expansion is out of question! We are happy with the business. Our customers are happy with our prices and service. Then why change anything! Restructuring costs will finally figure in our prices and we prefer keeping the rates low.” was Mr. Irani’s reply to my question about their expansion plans. “The antiquated ambience of our restaurant is what adds to its appeal”, adds his son. They have kept the restaurant the way it used to be through three generations.

Their levels of service were substantiated the moment I laid eyes on a thick rope dangling from the ceiling just above the stair case just to make life simpler for the elderly. Truly touching! This is a must visit destination for everyone bored with the glitzy metallic finish and tongue twisting menus of the ubiquitous coffee shop and those craving for a down to earth experience.

Mumbai’s culture is highlighted by the symbiosis of the old and the new. While everything modern is clearly visible to us, Mumbai’s heritage can be most efficiently found in small places such as Kyani and Furtados and not only in the highly commercialized tourist destinations. These are just two stories from amongst a plethora of chronicles from our past hidden in the unlikeliest of places strewn across this city patiently waiting to be found by us.