What's the Mantra of your life?

A buddy of mine made an inspiring blog post about self-development. I had to follow up. But before you can even start working on yourself, you need to find out, What is the Mantra of your life?

In this brilliant hindi song by Euphoria, Palash Sen (the lead vocalist) gives you a lot of questions to ponder on. I've put up the lyrics. I didn't translate most of them because it sounds weird in english.

A segment:

Dekho pukaarein tumhe nabh ke sitaarein,
Baahein phailaaye aasmaan,
Bahti hawaaein tumhe kahti fizaaein,
Dekho thamey na kaaravaan.
Lekar chal yaadein kal ki, karta chal tu waadein kal ke,
Is pal pe tere kadmon ke nishaan,
Dekhenge aane waale, manzil ko pane waale,
Poochhenge chalne waale, kya hai tera mantra?

(The ones who act/Those in the journey with you will ask you, What's your Mantra?)

Mehnat bhi hai, himmat bhi hai, thodi si, haan, kismat bhi hai,
Aankhon mein hain kuchh khwaab bhi aur seene mein hasrat bhi hai,
Hai saanson ka aadhaar kya, aur zindagi ka saar kya,
Bas jaan lo hai pyaar kya, Hai ye mera mantra!!

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It's Carl Sagan's Birthday!

Not everyone from my generation knows Carl Sagan. He passed away when we were in elementary school and I am not sure how much exposure the Asian media gave him.

In short, Sagan was an astronomer and a populariser of science. He inspired a generation of both children and adults to look at the universe with awe and reverence. He has written several books but I still think his best works are where he talks in scenic locations =).

I highly recommend you take a look at the following videos these are the ones which impacted me the most.

The Pale Blue Dot

This is based on a picture by Voyager 1 of the Earth. It reminds of of our place in the universe.

Glorious Dawn

This is a song remix combining several clips and famous quotes of Sagan. This particular idea in the clip intrigued me. To create an apple pie from scratch, you need to invent the entire universe.

Baloney Detection Kit

In Sagan's book, The Demon Haunted World : Science as a Candle in the Dark, he elucidates the concept of a "Baloney Detection Kit", a sort of test to decide whether an unusual claim might be true or not. Micheal Shermer explains it clearly in this clip.

This post is also dedicated to my darling sister! Happy Birthday! I miss you and hope you're having a blast. Thanks for all the inspiration and support!

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An unusual glimpse of Hindu Culture

Readership statistics are encouraging and I feel obliged to blog more often =) Thank you reader, you rock!

I recently attended a series of talks on the Bhagavad Geeta. The first two talks, From Man Human to Man Divine and The Parallax between Science and the Geeta were disappointing. Their oversimplification and misrepresentation of science got in the way of the message. I think Science, though many of its milestones have occurred in the West, is a human endeavour. Considering that the east contributed to some of its foundations (Zero, the number system etc) and that it is currently a global endeavour with scientists of many races and cultures enriching it, STOP CALLING IT WESTERN SCIENCE. I got the feeling that the speakers wanted Hindus to be proud of their culture by presenting discoveries made by ancient Indians, parallels between Vedanta and Modern Physics, the Dashavataar and Evolution. Yet because I have read up on all these issues, to me it seems like a these guys don't know very much about science and are presenting very shallow arguments. Furthermore it cheapens both Science and Hindu Culture. If there is something Hindus can be proud of, that very few people have addressed and I think is unique and genuine, is the fact that our ancestors, at least at some point in our history, embraced their sexuality as an integral part of their humanity. I think Osho gices a very good perspective on this in the following excerpt from “From Sex to Superconsciousness”. You do not have to agree and accept all of what he says but give it a thought.

With a group of friends, I went to Khajuraho to see the world-famous temple there. The outermost wall, the periphery of the temple, is decorated with scenes of the sexual act, with the varied poses of intercourse. There are sculptures of many different poses, all in sexual postures. My friends asked why those sculptures were there, decorating a temple. I explained to them that the architects who had built that temple were highly intelligent people. They knew that passion and sex exist on the circumference of life, and believed that those who were still caught up in sex had no right to enter the temple.

[Note: If you look around, you will also notice sculptures which are not erotic at all. It's just that eroticism is what grabs people's attention the most. Check out some pictures here, here and erotic ones here]

We entered. Inside, there were no such statues, instead there was an idol of God. My friends were surprised, not seeing sculptures anywhere. I explained to them that on the outer wall of life itself lust and passion exist, whereas the temple of God is inside. Those who are still enchanted by passion, by sex, cannot reach the temple of God inside; they simply roam about the outer wall. The builders of this temple were very sensible people. This was a meditation center -- sexuality on the surface, all around; peace and quiet at the core, at the center. They used to tell aspirants to meditate on sex first, to reflect fully on the copulation depicted on the outer wall, and when they had thoroughly understood sex and were certain their minds were free of it, they might go inside. Only then could they face God inside.

But in the name of religion we have destroyed any possibility of understanding sex. We have declared war on sex, on our basic instinct itself. The standard rule is not to see sex at all, but to shut your eyes and blindly barge into the temple of God. But can anyone reach anywhere with his eyes closed? Even if you reach inside, you will not be able to see God with closed eyes. Instead, you will only see the thing from which you have been running! Perhaps some people think I am a propagandist for sex. If so, please tell them that they haven't heard me at all. It is difficult these days to find a greater enemy of sex on the face of this earth than me. If people can pay attention to what I say -- without bias -- it is possible to liberate man from sex. This is the only course for a better humanity. The pundits we consider the enemies of sex are not its enemies at all, but its propagandists. They have created a glamour around sex; their vehement opposition has created a mad attraction for sex.

One man told me he wasn't interested in anything that was not disapproved of, challenged or resented. As we all know, the stolen fruit is always sweeter than the one purchased from the bazaar. That's why one's own wife isn't as appetizing as the neighbor's wife seems to be. The other is like a stolen fruit; the other is a forbidden treat. And we have given the same status to sex. It is very tempting. It has been given such a colorful coat of lies that it has become intensely attractive.

Bertrand Russell has written that in the Victorian era, when he was a child, ladies' legs were never seen in public. The clothes they wore swept the ground, covering their feet completely. If by chance even a woman's toe were visible, a man would immediately ogle it; it would arouse his passion. Russell further writes that today's women move about nearly half-naked with their legs fully visible, but notes that it doesn't affect us nearly as much. This proves, he writes, that the more we conceal a thing, the more it arouses our curiosity.

I think Osho addresses it well. If you are interested, check out the rest of the book. You can buy a hardcopy or an ebook. However, don't get the impression that Hindus are an ultra-liberal, ultra-promiscuous bunch. Yes, we accept it as a part of our lives but, balance, context and moderation is the key. Culture evolves and Hindu culture, like a lot of India, bears a stamp of Victorian morality even today.

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Itsa Miracle!

I have been talking to people, sharing with me the kind of miracles they've had in their life and how that proves god is real and loves them and what not. They were talking from their gut of course and I have trouble responding to that (intellectual responses don't work here). I was reading "Atheist Universe" by David Mills and came across this segment which touched my heart (and would touch the hearts of adolescent males across the universe).

Moreover, the "miraculous" event, even though positive, will
lose its holy luster if the event is perceived to conflict with "God's will" or with the Ten Commandments. When I was a teenager, for example, I frequently rode my bicycle around the neighborhood. One evening, I rode past the home of a girl with whom 1 went to
high school. All of the boys at school, including me, thought that
this girl was exceptionally attractive. As I pedaled past, I glanced
over for a split second at the girl's house. And at that precise
instant, she walked by her bedroom window topless, wearing only
her panties!
As you might imagine, I, as a teenage boy, regarded this event
as more historically significant than World War II and the Moon
Landing put together. I couldn't believe my incredible good luck!
"What were the odds," I kept asking myself, "that I would glance
in her window at the exact moment that she scurried past topless?"
My titillating peek defied all laws of probability. As I pedaled
back home, I said aloud "There must be a God. There must be
a God." When I boasted to the boys at school about my delightful
voyeuristic experience, few of them believed me. It all sounded so
unlikely and just "too good to be true."
I'm willing to bet that, under absolutely no circumstances,
would the Vatican ever declare my cheap, teenage thrill to be an
officially recognized miracle of the Catholic Church. No religious
pilgrims will ever retrace my bicycle journey in hope of being
blessed by the same miraculous vision that I beheld years earlier.
Even though my prurient glimpse, like a miracle, was highly
unlikely statistically and, like a miracle, was quite positive (in my opinion), no religious leader would consider the event miraculous
because God is allegedly opposed to ogling our neighbors' breasts.
In other words, our perception of what is, and what is not, a
Divine "miracle" is prejudicially determined by what we already
believe about God's nature. Witnessing "miracles" therefore does not evoke belief in God. Rather, belief in God evokes the witnessing
of "miracles."

Take taht!

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Birthdays

Birthdays are mostly fun. If you know how to enjoy them. I woke up, without caring what time it was. Watched my favourite TV show during breakfast. It was amazing. It's called Penn & Teller : Bullshit and I owe a lot of my thoughts, ideas and manner of thinking to that show. For those of you who don't know, Bullshit is like Mythbusters (the Discovery Channel programme where they blow up stuff to test the validity of Urban Legends). Mythbusters deals with broader, on-going issues and they have done themes like Boy Scouts, prostitution, profanity and so on. I would encourage you to watch it but it is not for the fain hearted as they get very controversial and the discourse is peppered with profanity (the reason for which is elucidated in Season 1's first episode)

I hit the books for a while and was happy that I made some progress. I usually find it challenging to study on my own so I was overjoyed. There's this “cracked the code” feeling to it. Though honestly, it didn't carry over through the rest of the week.

I did something crazy which very few people do. I had reasons though. A week or so back, I was hanging out with my buddies and one of them just casually said, “You're going to be 21 right? How does it feel to have been through a quarter of your life?”. I am always surrounded by these kind of people. They ask uncomfortable questions at uncomfortable times. I would, however, credit the same people for my growth. *I love you guys, who know who you are =) If you don't, ask me!* A week or so before, we wanted to send a friend of ours off. We were thinking of something absolutely cool and special. This same guy thought it would be nice to head to the cemetery near his house. So we went. There were five of us hit the grounds. The place had actually been exhumed. The christian part was kind of like a park you go for a walk in. The muslim section (not sure whether its older) is more like a dark, scary forest. Most of us were scared but this girl was exquisitely uncomfortable so we decided against entering the grounds further.

So back to my story. My folks and I had dinner at 7 Sensations (nice vegetarian restaurant, to describe it in one word, Sattvic!) and I headed off on my mission. I was dressed in off white pants, my hippie-looking kurti, two rings on my index fingers and my fish necklace. My mom brought me along to the temple to I had a small streak of kumkum on my forehead. I could have looked like a medicine man. I recall texting my BFF earlier telling him that I was chickening out and didn't want to go. We threw words around like “need to man up” and so forth. I so thought it would be a good idea to just give it a shot.

I dropped off at Serangoon station and asked Passenger Service where the Cemetery was. He didn't know and referred me to his colleague. That Indian man, gave me a weird look (which, on hindsight, was justified) and told me flatly that it didn't exist anymore. I asked him how to get to the area and he gave me the information. I saw this lady in gaudy makeup at the bus stop and started freaking out. I checked the board and found out that the next bus will take me there. Everyone was giving me the look on the bus. I calmly took out my tube of insect repellant (you know where it came from =P), checked my torchlight and peered out of the window waiting for my stop. I intentionally skipped my stop and went to the next one so I could psych myself up on the way.

As I walked past the Christian grounds (or park) I thought about reasons to not be scared. Firstly, I am a materialist. I am not convinced that anything remains after you're dead. You just die and tada!. Secondly, there are no bodies buried there anymore. All of them have been exhumed. Thirdly, I have had real world experience of being tricked by my mind. And fourth, I'm a man yo. Nothing to be worried about.

Well, I stand at the entrance and go wobbly. I take out my torchlight and it shines like a bloody firefly and cease to trust it. I'm bloody terrified. I go through my reasons once again and it doesn't work. I tell myself that it's ok to be scared and think about whether it's something paranormal and breath a sigh of relief because it's plain old vanilla fear. Just fear, nothing ghostly about it. I call my BFF and tell him I'm coming over for a while and start walking to the other bus stop. Shit, I feel like a wussy now but I am glad that I gave it a shot. On the way back, I see a car at the traffic light and am tempted to go and knock on their window to scare them but decide against it. I spend the night with my buddy chatting before I call it a day.

I think it was a unique day. Well spent. Unique, won't forget unless it's outdone next year =)

I found these two links of Significance

This one is by some Paranormal Research group. It details just one of the many scary stories associated with the area.

This one reminisces the fond memories the author has of the place. It's very nostalgia inducing.

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Death : The biggie

I have always thought about death. Imagined it, fantasied about it but till recently, it has never been so close. Of course there is physical proximity. People die every few times a year and hold a funeral under at the apartment void deck so technically it's been close to home but still out of reach. Just like that awesome BMW parked at the carpark.

Things got a little more serious when I got to YEP (Youth Empowerment Programme) in India. Within the first few week, one of the editors of the Chyk magazine, who lived in Chennai, had passed away. He was in his thirties. The people who knew him at the course were in mourning and Swamiji discussed it for the next few weeks whenever we would go meet him. Re-incarnation always always came into the picture and it was emphasised that The Body had died and not the Immortal Soul. The editorial which was written for him also reminded readers about this. To me it felt like a cop-out. A belief system, though somewhat logical and internally consistent, developed to make sense of such a radical occurrence. I could go into an analysis, but not now.

I recall the recent death of my paternal grandmother. I was heading for a night out with my buddies when my mom called to break the news. “Come home NOW, Aaji has passed away”. Initially, there was no reaction. It was just a slight inconvenience, having to drop off, take another bus and go home. Then slowly, it starting to sink in. I put the person into context. Who was she, what was my relationship to her? What memories do I have of her? Keep in mind that I'm not consciously following a problem solving plan, these are the thoughts that are popping in my head. Now obviously, I have answers to those questions but like what happens in an interview, you start to put vague ideas into a context. Now at the end of that sequence, you have a gap then its followed by this punctuation mark called death.

You have this vacuum feeling in your heart. Sometimes, it feels painful and you want to cry but this time it was just a vacuum, a bit of a painful emptiness. So I tried to get the details filled in. How did she die? What now? What will you guys be doing about it? Slowly the picture gets clearer and the feeling reduces in intensity. Yet it still lingers. In your mind, you have this timeline of everyone. It often starts when you first meet the person and ends when you last met the person. Everything before and after is a kind of extrapolation you construct. When someone dies, the timeline concludes. Full stop.

Its like a train. You know that it is moving forward even when you are not looking at it. You run into this train when you meet those people. After your meeting, you still know the train is running. When someone dies, you might have thought that the train was still running, until the news gets to you. I'm not sure what causes what, the fact that you thought the train was running when it was not that makes you sad or the sorrow makes you look at the situation this way. Then you are also reminded that the train is not going to start running again. Its just going to stay the way it is.

"Death exists, not as opposite to but as a part of life" - Toru Watanabe, Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

The next stage was reflecting what my own death would be like. I could die from an accident, a disease, old age, or (highly improbably) disappear into thin air. Or wait, I could be killed for whatever reason too. Once you cover all the different options, it gets more predictable and less scarier. I would want to be smiling when I die, it think it will look good in the pictures. Ideally, I would love some cheerful person to be in charge of my funeral. Someone strong on the inside, I have met a few people like that but there's no guarantee they'll be around then. I especially, especially want a nice message read out, something like Dawkins, “to be read at my funeral”. I think it helps everyone to re-align their vision and look at death, and life in the right context. I also thought of the ways I could end up. Being buried (though highly unlikely), as a pile of ashes (somewhat likely) or even on the dissection table in the anatomy hall. There you go, it isn't so bad now is it?

“It’s a little bit more radical than puberty but nothing to get particularly upset about. Death isn’t sad. The sad thing is most people don’t live at all.” - Socrates, from Peaceful Warrior, book by Dan Millman

Your response to death partly depends on what you think is going to happen to you after you die and who you really are. Both interrelated. A lot of people, at least intellectually, feel that they are some spirit occupying a body which they will discard upon death. This helps them cope when other people die. It's an explanation they always bring up when someone in the family dies and its a perception which persists long after the funeral. Yet, almost no one treats themselves and others like that when they are alive. Rarely do people treat others as if they are souls temporarily occupying these physical vessels. We are all practically philosophical materialists and treat people as bodies so its odd when people think you are weird because you explicitly admit you are one.

Bhaja Govindam, a hymn composed by Adi Shankaracharya, an influential philosopher of medieval India, has a stanza which goes, “Repeated birth, repeated death, repeatedly resting in the mother's womb. | This Samsaara is difficult to cross, Save me, out of your infinite mercy, Oh Krishna”. After expounding on this, Swami Mitrananda left us with a rhetorical question. What meaning would life have without reincarnation (or an afterlife)? That hit me hard, unnecessarily. It was a question I had pondered before and I had found a reasonable answer. Yet, because an authority figure had dished it out, it swallowed it. Talk of instinct. I think what really makes it matter is the present moment.

Nothing much in the future is certain. I keep in mind that I could easily die while crossing the road in spite of my precautions. Does that mean that it's no point going to medical school because you might only get your MBBS after five year? Yes. There is no point, assuming of course that what you are looking for is just a piece of paper or being able to write “Dr” beside your name. There is so much more to be gained at every step of your journey. Every day at school, you learn something new unfolds the world's awesomeness a little bit more, make a new friend perhaps or impact someone's life in ways you cannot imagine. Does all of this not matter if there is no afterlife? I leave you with that thought.

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Death : The Prelude

I have been thinking about death quite a bit these few days. As my thoughts slowly coalesce, do check out this letter by Richard Dawkins.

To be Read at my funeral
By Richard Dawkins

"We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Sahara. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively outnumbers the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here.

Here is another respect in which we are lucky. The universe is older than 100 million centuries. Within a comparable time the sun will swell to a red giant and engulf the earth. Every century of hundreds of millions has been in its time, or will be when its time comes, 'the present century.' The present moves from the past to the future, like a tiny spotlight, inching its way along a gigantic ruler of time. Everything behind the spotlight is in darkness, the darkness of the dead past. Everything ahead of the spotlight is in the darkness of the unknown future. The odds of your century's being the one in the spotlight are the same as the odds that a penny, tossed down at random, will land on a particular ant crawling somewhere along the road from New York to San Francisco. You are lucky to be alive and so am I."

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Epiblast!

About

What do you not already know about me that you want to know more?

What's the Mantra of your life?

It's Carl Sagan's Birthday!

An unusual glimpse of Hindu Culture

Itsa Miracle!

Birthdays

Death : The biggie

Death : The Prelude

Epiblast!

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