THE FROG AND THE SCORPION

Once upon a time there used to be a frog who lived on the banks of a very large lake. The lake was always busy with animals and insects trying to make a living near the source of water. Usually when frogs appear in stories, they either tend to be cursed royalty waiting for a maiden’s kiss or an agent of something evil. This frog was neither. He was a regular frog who lived his life peacefully, had a reputation to be a good man and helped people when he could afford to.

One day, a scorpion came to the frog and requested for his help. “Dear friend, I need to reach the other side of this lake. I have some urgent business there and I was told that you were someone who helps a man in need. Please help me with this small thing and I’ll pay you back when the time comes”. The frog looked the scorpion in the eye and said, “You heard it right and I do help people, but look at you. Your stinger is longer than your tongue. I am not an idiot. I have enough sense to not trust someone whose stinger is longer than his tongue! “

Tears welled up in the eyes of the scorpion. “Dear friend, how can you say such a thing? I know I have a stinger, but I barely use it to sting. This is more like a decoration than a real thing. You have to understand I have changed my ways now and I am a new being.” The frog was sympathetic to see the plight of the scorpion. However evolution had taught it to be wary of a creature whose stinger was longer than its tongue. Frog said, “As much as I want to help you, I feel that during our journey, you will forget all your new resolutions and will sting me anyway. And this would be the end of us both. Why do you want to go over any way? Don’t you see this journey might be the end of both of us?”

The scorpion smiled and said, “See you have answered your own doubts. If I end up stinging you, it would spell my doom too. I know I am lower than you in brain development, but I know enough to understand that I cannot sting you while we are together. The very fact that my life is also in your hands should be enough to clarify your doubts.” Frog shook his head and said, “I don’t know, it is a risk.”

Seeing that the frog still had his misgivings, the scorpion told, “Dear friend I am going to convince you about this. Let me call my associates to vouch for me.” Saying this, the scorpion went away, as the frog looked on at the swaying stinger disappear into the distance. In a few minutes, the scorpion was back with a spider and a wasp. “Hey buddy hope you are having a good day”, buzzed the wasp. “So you should know that this scorpion is a new man now. I know his reputation is not so good but he really has changed now. While I wouldn’t say something like this about my spider friend here, I have full confidence in scorpion’s ability to not sting people.” The spider smiled and said, “Wasp is right. You should assist this scorpion here. I don’t know how scorpion does it. He has told us that he hasn’t stung anyone in almost a month. Me, I can’t do without biting something at least once in two days. Just yesterday, I bit a frog much like you while he was taking a nap.”

The veiled threat was not lost on the frog. But he did not grow up to be what he was today, by being a coward. He looked the spider in the eye and said, “How can I take the word of all you mud-dwelling insects at face value? After all, you are his best friends and would always support him. I just have a bad feeling about the whole venture. I am not going to ferry the scorpion across.” Scorpion stopped the spider from saying anything more. He told the frog, “Dear friend, you shall realize that I am a good man. I will come tomorrow and try to convince you that I am a changed person”. And the trio walked away from the frog. Well, two of them walked and one flew.

Frog was uneasy throughout the day afterwards. Could it be true that the scorpion is a changed man? Was it ok that he judged the scorpion just because of his tail? What if the work which scorpion had was something really important? Maybe he was being too stubborn and self centered by not helping the scorpion.  Rest of the day passed without further incident.

The frog woke up the next day and was getting on with his work. He looked out, hearing the sound of wings. The stork was flapping its wings and was waiting right outside where the frog stayed. Now, the stork was a respected creature of the area. Stork spent most of his time in meditation and was considered to be a learned man with experience in all aspects of living. On seeing such an important person outside his dwelling, the frog rushed to meet the unexpected visitor. Alas! Right besides the stork was the scorpion with a sly smile.

“I hear that you are denying to help this poor scorpion”, said the stork. “Child, don’t you know that our life is meant to be in service of others? Besides, this whole lake community works because everyone cooperates with everyone else. It is very cruel of you to deny this fine scorpion this small help.” The frog felt guilty after hearing this. He said, “Mr. Stork, as much as I want to help the scorpion, I am just apprehensive that he would sting me while I am in the water. Wont that be a big risk for me to take?” The stork flapped his wings in exasperation, “Child, you are making no sense. Think logically. Why would the scorpion ever sting you? Besides if my knowledge serves me right, the scorpion has stopped with the whole stinging business. I have this on good authority. As a learned man, I would say it is your duty to help the scorpion. It makes no sense to not do it!” At this point the Scorpion started speaking, “Dear friend, this is a time I really need you. You are the only person who can help me. I’ve got everyone to vouch for me. Please have mercy. Please help me cross.”

The frog was left with no options now. What the scorpion said made sense. Logically speaking there was no grounds for him to deny the scorpion’s request. Besides, the scorpion also had the support of the learned stork. What would the rest of the lake say about the frog if he didn’t help a man in need? And above all, the frog was innately a good person. He genuinely wanted to be of assistance to others when he could. The frog decided to help the scorpion.

Scorpion was ecstatic upon hearing this. The stork flew away with a satisfied ruffle of his head. The frog and the scorpion walked towards the banks of the lake. The frog said, “Ok Scorpion I will take you across on my back. I am taking your word that you will not harm me. Remember that amongst us, only I can swim.” Scorpion smiled and said. “Dear friend, I know”. In a much lower tone the scorpion added as an afterthought, “Scorpions do float on water though, even if we don’t swim.”

The frog and the scorpion started their journey. From the moment they touched the water, the frog was turning back and looking at the scorpion. But the scorpion had a nonchalant expression on his face. Frog kept turning back and looking at the scorpion, every few minutes. But the scorpion showed no signs of aggression. After travelling about a quarter of the distance, the frog turned and looked at the scorpion one last time. The scorpion was sitting coolly, lost in thought. “I was wrong to judge this creature so harshly in the beginning. He is a changed man after all”, thought the frog.

The duo kept going slowly forward. The frog was extra careful to make sure that the journey was not a rough one on the scorpion. They kept moving into the deeper parts of the lake. As they reached the center of the lake, the frog suddenly felt a searing pain. On turning back, he saw the scorpion’s stinger right on his back. The frog couldn’t believe his eyes. How could this be happening! Numbness started emanating from the point where the stinger had pierced the frog. He knew that he would soon lose consciousness and he would sink helplessly to the lake floor. 

With his last ounce of strength the frog croaked to the scorpion, “Why? Why did you do this? Why did you doom us both?” The scorpion, with a slightly amused expression, looked the frog in the eye and said, “Dear friend… I am, after all, a scorpion. It is in my NATURE to sting people. How can you blame me for being true to my nature? “

These were the last words heard by the frog as he slowly lost consciousness and sank deeper and deeper into the abyss.

x---x---x---x---x

Remember that no one can change their basic NATURE. Nature is decided by nurture at a young age. Once a person’s nature is set, it is almost impossible to alter it. People can fake emotions, fake sincerity, fake approval and fake righteousness. But ultimately, when push comes to shove, everyone acts according to their basic nature.

PostScript: I’ve read the story of the frog and the scorpion a long time ago, either in the Aesop fables or in the Panchatantra collections, can’t recall the exact source. However, in my opinion, the story remains relevant to this day.

VYASA'S WONDER

“What is not found here will not be found anywhere

 else… What is found anywhere else can also be found here."    

- Veda Vyasa about Mahabharata

Reading the Mahabharata is a very unique experience. Everything you have ever read before dims a bit in front of the grandeur and complexity of the epic. Although it is generally seen as a Hindu myth, it is a misconception that Mahabharata can only be read and understood by people with prior knowledge of Hinduism. The truth is that religion is something you run into in the epic only if you are specifically looking for it. And the beauty of Mahabharata is as much (if not more) about its narrative as it is about the spirituality in it.

It is not very unusual to see people who've read the epic trying to tell its stories to anyone who is patient enough to listen. But that is not enough either. The characters in Mahabharata give you thoughtful days and sleepless nights for weeks. They taunt you and confuse you about what is right and what is wrong. You end up questioning the very basic notions of dharma and righteousness you have in your head. You forget who the villain is and who the hero is.

While it may seem clear enough that the Pandavas are the good guys and the Kauravas the villains, it really isn't a simple black and white canvas like that. When you think from the point of view of different characters in the epic, you may find it hard to blame them for the way they acted. Essentially speaking, there are hardly any characters in the epic who are painted in a single shade.

Another surprising thing is the difficulty for us readers to find a central character. But this is because of the brilliance of the story telling rather than it being a shortcoming. (Technically Vyasa Maharishi is the central figure as the author is also a character in the story. But he only appears sparingly and is usually with the air of an observer). You can assume any character as the central figure and try to understand Mahabharata from their view point. In fact, if we view the events in the epics with the eyes of a different character, the entire tone and hue of the narrative changes.  

Maybe that is the reason why there are so many re-tellings of Mahabharata by brilliant authors from varied POVs. M.T Vasudevan Nair’s Randam Oozham (Second-in-line) sees the epic as Bheema understands it. The lack of appreciation which people have for Bheema and him being forever over looked when it comes to important decisions, is beautifully brought out in the book by M.T. “Ini Njan Urangatte (Let me rest now) written by P.K Balakrishnan is another brilliant work where Karnan is the central character. The unsung hero of Mahabharata, the one who is always insulted in spite of him being a great warrior and a great Kshatriya, is beautifully portrayed in this work. “Palace of Illusions” written by Chitra Banerjee takes a bold feminist view of Mahabharata by re-telling the epic from Draupadi’s point of view. And if it is a general idea that you want of Mahabharata you can always opt for C Rajagopalachari’s “Mahabharata” or Devdutt Pattanaik’s “Jaya”.

The most famous excerpt from Mahabharata is, of course, the conversation between Krishna and Arjuna just before the commencement of the Kurukshetra war. This entire conversation, The Bhagavad Gita, is revered by many as the most important discourse of Hindu philosophy. The essence of all the four Vedas and their corresponding Upanishads is said to be conveyed through Gita. It is surprising that many of my Hindu friends are still unaware of the fact that Gita is a part of Mahabharata. It might not be far-fetched to say that Gita is also a composition which should be credited to Vyasa Maharishi.

When the westerners (read British) encountered Mahabharata for the first time, it was hard for them to accept the fact that an epic of such proportions could be written by an individual. There was an attempt to try and downplay the Magnum Opus of Vyasa Maharishi by claiming that Mahabharata was, in fact, a collection of works by many authors. However such a blatant lie couldn't be made to take root even with the infinite resources at the disposal of the Englishmen. Krishna-dvaipayana (Vyasa Maharishi’s real name; Vyasa means the one who scribed Vedas) is now undeniably recognized as the author of Mahabharata.

This post is actually an intro that went too far. What I really wanted to write was a character sketch about a few of my favorite characters in Mahabharata. But when I thought about it, it felt too rough to start off straight away with something like that. So I figured that it was imperative that I give a small introduction to the epic first. I guess I should leave my character sketch for another day now.

Before I stop, I need to make an appeal to everyone who is reading this. Read Mahabharata. As much as I appreciate the brilliant works of literature by all the foreign authors, none has affected me the way Mahabharata did. You will start to feel like every story you have ever read has a comparable narrative somewhere within Mahabharata. I have heard that the very purpose for Vyasa Maharishi to write the epic was to bring the idea of righteousness and dharma to the masses. After you read the epic, you will be filled with a lot of questions. Only after a focused introspection will you be able to get some closure. This is the greatest strength of the tale. It is shocking to see how the ideas he tried to bring forward centuries ago, remain relevant to this day.

Read Mahabharata. It will change the way you see the world forever.

ARROGANCE

Being out of India truly does take an Indian away from the pulse of the nation. At least that is the excuse I keep telling myself for being so late with this post.

The past few days have been a judicial roller-coaster for an average Indian citizen. First we all balked about how inefficient and slow our courts are. After that we celebrated how money and fame doesn't let anyone off the hook anymore in India. Then we all looked like fools when the afore-mentioned money and fame secured a bail in 2 days, when more than 60% of the ‘under-trials’ spend an average of 3 months in prison before getting a bail hearing. It looks like the Indian media-scape has been taken over by Salman Khan again.

When you remove all the fluff and foam surrounding the Salman Khan Case, what it basically boils down to is, simply speaking, Arrogance. The Arrogance that having a silver-screen quotation somehow places you above the common citizen. The Arrogance that any crime is passable here, if you can mask its evil with subsequent charity works and long drawn out court procedures. The Arrogance that no matter what you do, there will be a bunch of deluded fans to chant your name and die for you. The Arrogance that money and muscle power rides above everything else. The Arrogance that a homeless man’s life or death is less consequential than a superstar’s.

I don’t mean to point a finger at the criminal alone. The reaction of the celebrity club to the verdict gave us unique glimpses of this Arrogance, insensitivity and human stupidity. While a brunette bimbo tried to blame the government for drunk driving, another celebrity had the audacity to compare the homeless to street dogs. Maybe they think being homeless is a choice. This is a wake-up call to the mindless worshipers of these so-called stars as to what they really think of their fans. While some of the more experienced thugs were reluctant to openly support the non-deliberate murderer, the young-lings of Bollywood were less cautious and came in open support of Salman. But the reaction of this crowd was as expected. After all, birds of a feather flock together. What surprised me was how some of the common citizens reacted to the verdict.

The crowds who sympathized with the victims (three of whom are still alive) were almost negligible when compared to the sympathy wave the criminal enjoyed. (I am sure some of you are squirming at the use of the word criminal. But as far as I am concerned, the judiciary has seen through the web of deceptions cast by the star’s high profile legal team and found him guilty of the crime). Many have also forgotten the young man, PC Ravindra Patil, who lost his job, his honor and ultimately his life for his pivotal statement that convicted the ‘star’. I can only imagine the amount of courage it took for him to stick to his statement in spite of the pressures and threats he would have been subjected to.  

Social media platforms were flooded with messages sympathizing with the criminal and how his charitable activities should somehow absolve him of the crime he committed. There was a reported case of attempted suicide outside the court by a Salman fan. This ‘bhai-tard’ probably should have just slept on a pavement near one of the clubs frequented by the B-town boys. That would have been a more fitting way for him to rid the world of his genes. How the educated ‘Bhai-tards’ can continue supporting an irresponsibly drunk, animal killing, woman-hurting, law-abusing, spoilt scion of a powerful family is something beyond my understanding.

It is also interesting to observe that the ‘star’ decided to start being-human only after 2002. A pattern of criminal and anti-social tendencies which the actor was infamous for till then was somehow forgiven and forgotten by his fans. While charity in any form is to be appreciated, the sanctity of his transformation is questionable. It is more likely that the ‘star’ felt that to avoid prison, it was necessary to improve his PR angle rather than there being any genuine change in his outlook.

If he was truly a changed man, Salman would have accepted the lenient punishment dictated by the court. After all, first step to being human is to take responsibility for ones actions, in this case, the murder of another human being. The argument that a man with a net worth of 200 million dollars spent around 7 million on charity over a period of 13 years is laughable for two reasons. First reason is that you cannot expect to buy your way out of murder. We do not live in a world where past misdemeanors are mitigated by present monetary penances.  Jack London sums up the second reason best “A bone to the dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog when you are just as hungry.” 

AN ODE TO THE CITY OF PEARLS

I sit with a cup of tea and a mildly melancholic mood on the eve of my last day in this city. The bags are packed, the dues are settled and the taxi has been booked. I have been thinking of writing a post about my one year stay in Hyderabad for some time and I guess now would be a good time to finally complete it.

After almost 2 years in a village with a factory in Gujarat, I remember I was super excited to stay in a proper city for a while. I needed some time to get back into the studies groove after the RIL work life. I guess there is no place for an educational 'vann-vaas' like a metropolitan city with arguably the most nerdy crowd.

Every single person I've met in Hyderabad has asked me 'Why here?'. And I've told every one of them, I have no clue. I guess I just wanted to get to know a new city. Also the culinary greatness of Hyderabad was something which I've always kept hearing about. Hyderabad was the seat of power of the Qutub Shahi dynasty and later the Nizams, after a brief interlude of Mughal rule. This historic significance also piqued my interest. The city of Kohinoor, The city of Lions, The city of Biriyani. Toponyms which Hyderabad has have no end. It also helped that two of my closest friends stayed in Hyderabad. 

I have to confess that despite my interest in the history of the place, I rarely visited any of the old city areas, if you exempt the ceremonial visit which everyone makes to Charminar and Salar Jung museum. However this wasn't because I was lazy but because of the amazing gang I got here. The places which we visited never really mattered as long as the whole group was there. Of course we did hit up almost all joints in and around the Hitec city area but the excursions to the old city were rare. 

Oh and if you are reading this mom and dad, I studied a lot too. Me and Teena went to almost all of the early morning classes and faraway test-centers. The 1 km walk to SV college at 5:30 in the morning became a part of my daily routine.   

I am going to list out my top ten experiences in Hyderabad. I guess this is the best way to sum up my stay here. It is an effort to limit it to ten, but well, let me give it a shot.

1. Best Biriyani : This is usually the first question people ask me when they hear I am in Hyderabad now. Personally I am more a fan of the Malabar biriyani but if you are in Hyderabad, you cannot escape the lure of the local aroma. Now there are big names weighing for the best biriyani title here. I've tasted the biriyani from most of them. From Paradise to Bawarchi. From Shadab to RR. But the best Biriyani I've had is from a little known bar/hotel in 100 feet road, Madhapur. The 'Special Hyderabadi Biriyani' in Hotel M3- Bar-B-Que is my top choice for the best Hyderabadi biriyani. Too bad that they aren't a big chain with a lot of publicity. Oh and a word of advice, nothing else in this hotel is good. But somehow their Biriyani has been spot-on every time I've tried it. 

                        

2. Best Kebab : Siddique Kebab centre. Undoubtedly. This place believes in finding something they are good at and keep repeating it forever uniformly across all of their outlets. They don't give two shits about anything else. If you want ambience/service/ veg. dishes/non-kebab/non-chicken dishes, this is NOT the place for you. But if what you are looking for is the pure joy of biting into a chicken kebab spiced and cooked to gastronomic perfection this is the go-to place.

3. Most memorable Dinner : While I've never had a bad dinner (taste-wise) in Hyderabad , this is more about how the entire evening played out. Prashant booked us all in for an evening at Taj Falaknuma, Hyderabad. For those of you who haven't heard about it, this was the place which Salman Khan booked for his sister's wedding. The place demands a minimum bill of Rs. 2500 per head, to dine over here. This also includes a tour of the palace, a small slice of the royal life. We, of course, had no clue about this monetary criteria. 

In the end it took some unbelievable convincing and dignified begging to prevent them from kicking us out. That was the day I was sure Prashant is probably going to be the best Manager ever, after his B-school battles. As for the food, it wasn't bad. But the undeniable fact is that a Rs. 1200 Veg. Korma doesn't taste all that different from a Rs. 50 Veg. Korma. 

This evening-adventure would also go down in history as the only time Uber failed to get us out of a desolate locality. We waited in the surprisingly non-royal guard room while trying to cajole multiple taxi service firms to send us some means of transportation back to civilization. Classy.

4. Biggest WTF moment : Me and Teena went in for breakfast to a Dosa place after a morning class. I can't seem to recall the place's name now but it is somewhere along the Madhapur main road. Teena told me that she could finish a Family-sized Dosa alone and of course I didn't believe her. What followed was a war where Teena took on a dosa almost as tall as her. Like any classic battle between the predator and the prey, Teena massacred that 70-centimeter-dosa, all by herself. I've never looked at her the same way from then on.

5. Best Place To Shop : Now, there are many malls in Hyderabad which are identical to any other mall in any other city in any part of the globe. But Shilparamam is something unique to Hyderabad. A government owned piece of land right in the heart of Hitec city where artisans from faraway places can come and sell their goods directly to buyers. The lack of middlemen ensures that customers get a good deal and if you can haggle, you are in for a treat. 
Shilparamam has everything from textiles and jewelry to paintings and statues. The place also has an amphitheatre which has regular dance and music shows. My parents love this place so much that at times, I've seriously doubted whether they visited Hyderabad to see me or to visit Shilparamam

6. Best Sunday Brunch : Now the competition is only between Avasa's pool side brunch and Via Milano's karaoke Italian brunch. Both serve excellent food and drinks but on account of the fun we had I would say Via-Milano. The place has the right mix of rustic and modern ambience with brilliant music, mainly because we sang most of it. Neethu's stories were, of course, the highlight of the day. Neethu, I wish I could put up a video here, but I dont think the world is ready for it yet....

7. Best Cake : Hyderabad offers you a lot of amazing pastries. While I am not much of a sweet-tooth, I've still tasted some of the best. Insanity cake from Olive Bistro, Chocolate-excess from Chocolate room, NY Cheese cake with blue berry topping from Griffin, Tiramisu from Little-Italy. But the one cake which would have a special place in my heart is the Angry birds raspberry cake we got for Aswathy's Birthday!

8. Most memorable Lunch : Just a few days ago, we decided to cook for ourselves. I think I should speak about our culinary expertise first. Teena claims she makes a lot of dishes. So she had a point to prove when she went into the kitchen to make for us , 'The Best Prawns Fry ever'. Geena has been to all the restaurants in Hyderabad. Seriously. So we hoped that she would give our preparations, the restaurant-level fineness. I think the only thing Sanjay has ever cooked is cup-noodles, that too when the water was heated by someone else. I am an armchair-expert. I've seen all the seasons of Masterchef and Hell's Kitchen. So I was all set.
Four of us made 2 dishes in 3 hours for 8 people. I would say it was moment of pride when what we amateur chefs made, turned out to be really tasty. We made Teena's roomies eat it too just to be sure that we weren't merely delusional after the long hours we spent in the kitchen.
Also hats off to our moms who make double the number of dishes in half the time on a daily basis. How you people do it, I'll never know.

9. Best Means of Transportation : Aswathy's Scooty. I cannot even begin to count the number of times this Scooty has brought me home safe and sound. In addition to this, I owe a lot to Ola and the share-auto drivers of Hyderabad. It is amazing how well connected Hyderabad is through share-autos. Although this is something not mentioned in any of the write-ups about the city. You just have to live here to get to know how invaluable the share-autos are.

10. Greatest Let-down : Ramoji Rao Film city is one of the iconic tourist spots of Hyderabad. But sadly, I really did not like it. I felt it was a lot of effort put in from our side to see relics of a bygone-era. I am sure the older generation would find the place amazing, but personally, I did not.

So there you have it, my list of highlights of my Hyderabad life. I guess most of these are personal but as I've already mentioned, it was never about the place but about the people. I usually don't mention names on public posts but I guess I've crossed that line already.

Sanjay, Neethu, Geena, Teena, Prashant, Aswathy, Sruthi, Neenu, Hendry, Saran, Siri, Vinay, Divya. I came here with the aim of studies alone. I had never thought I would meet (or in some cases, re-acquaint) with so many people who I am really going to miss. Thanks to you guys, I leave here with memories. I am not saying anything more and making this emo. Cheers to all the good days and until next time....

Veedkolu Hyderabad!

THE MOTHER OF ALL BURQAS

(The title is borrowed from the last chapter of 'The God Delusion', although the contents of this article is something which Richard Dawkins may not agree with. Also, this piece is a result of conjectures and thinking-in-tangents fueled by my past few days of total joblessness. So it is nothing but a thought venture which explores a very remote possibility. I am not trying to downplay the need for rationality in life. 

The usage of science terms like bandwidth and spectra in certain contexts is NOT to give it a sound of false legitimacy, but a force of habit owing to my educational background.)

Let me try to interest you in a little line of thought. Colors. How do we see them? Most of us don't think beyond the model which involves our eyes. The truth is that our brain plays an equally important role in our chromatic perception. Eyes are simply sensors which inform the brain when a certain wavelength of radiation falls on it. Now our brain decides what shade that wavelength would correspond to and imply the corresponding color to the object. Now my doubt is how can we ever be sure that this interpretation of colors by the brain is the same for all of us. How do we conclude without doubt that for you and me a wavelength of 700nm corresponds to the color red. What if what I see as red is your blue?

Think about it. How was it that you color-mapped your world? Your mom pointed at an apple and told you, "This is an apple, apples are red". And from then, any shade which resembles the shade of an apple was called red by you. Our understanding of colors is always dependent on a reference palette which is in our brain from an early age. And I can't think of a way for us to prove that this basic palette is common for all of us. My red could easily be your blue and we would never know. Your yellow could be my brown and we would never know.

Imagine you like red and I like blue. If there was some way in which you could get inside my brain and see the world from my point of view, you may see that what I call blue was what you called red all  along. I am just saying that the sense of color is not as universal as we might expect. We just assume we are all on the same page but there is no easily verifiable way to ensure that we are.

The real question in front of us now is what other experiences of this physical world is relative. I could go on and talk about the other 4 senses, but that would be just a repetition of what I've said in the previous paragraphs. Let us think a bit broader. I am talking about things which we perceive beyond the 5 senses. Extra sensory powers if you may. Déjà-vu, Flash-forwards, Lucid dreams, Astral projections, Visions and other such things which rationalists scoff at, believers revere and 'in-betweeners' like me look on with interest.

People who know me well would now be thinking, "Here he goes again". But come on, humor me for a while. After all, most of what is accepted as basic science now was treated as supernatural phenomena if you look back long enough in time.

I am of the opinion that our brains are hardwired for something called the spiritual senses. I am calling it a sense because I don't know what else to call it. And much like a bandwidth over which we can decipher the common 5 senses, we all fall in a certain bandwidth of awareness spiritually as well. The paranormal experiences some people claim to have might just be an encounter with the fringe or dormant elements of this spiritual bandwidth. 

While a rationalist is self-assured that there is NO such thing, he/she is inadvertently blocking the part of his/her psyche which tries to interpret spiritual experiences. Similar to someone entering a concert hall wearing earplugs. The music never dies but you don't hear it because you chose not to. On the other hand,  A believer always seems to be having such experiences because he is always eager to feel it, sometimes a little too eager that they start seeing angels and demons at every turn of the road.

Many would say that our mind is an illusion which is the result of the chemical reactions in our brains. So my premise that mind is an entity with a sense for spirituality is inherently flawed. Maybe. Maybe not. But what knowledge we have of human conscience and the working of our mind is very limited. So I guess there is no harm in speculating. 

I believe every person belong to a spiritual spectra which he/she can sense. For most of us, this range is similar. But it is conceivable that for a few exceptional individuals, the spiritual bandwidth which they work on maybe different. Of course when such people come forward with their view of the world, we tend to either label them as god men or mad men depending on how they choose to reveal their insights.

We cannot see beyond a wavelength of 680nm. But that doesn't mean UV light do not exist. We cannot hear below 20 db. But that doesn't mean sub-sonic sounds do not exist. It is just that we are not evolutionarily built to perceive these range of senses. Richard Dawkins calls this sensory bandwidth which we can comprehend as the 'Mother of all Burqas', every human being is forced to wear. Our observable reality is limited by these narrow slits of bandwidths which we can perceive.  

With the help of science, we've been able to venture beyond this natural limitations and expand our vision of reality a little more. This is why I believe that the search of god and the pursuit of science are not at odds with each other. Any attempt to understand/please god or to find our purpose here is more likely to be triumphant by questioning, observing and experimenting than through praying and proselytizing.  

Moreover, rationalism shouldn't go so far as to turn into a mockery of things which we don't understand. I've heard rationalists say that our reality is only what we can perceive or alter. I completely agree. This is the exact reason why I am still living in a city trying to get a good degree and work and earn a lot of money. The only thing we can ever really do is try to live in the reality we are aware of. I accept this as a limitation of our physical self. But that doesn't mean our perception of reality is complete and absolute. Like the elephant whom the blind men tried to define by sensing only the trunk or the tail, we are quick to arrive at a model of reality by looking only through the narrow sensory openings in our Burqas.

This is nothing short of arrogance akin to the church putting earth at the centre of the universe in early centuries. Such blatant dismissal of anything that cannot be explained by our present scientific knowledge is unwise and is in fact, against the spirit of science. After all, historically, men only tried to understand things which amazed and confused them. By out rightly labeling extra sensory phenomena as hogwash, we stop our minds and science from further expanding its horizons.

So the next time you hear someone talk about a spiritual experience or an unnatural event, don't be quick to judge that person to be a fool or a phony. Consider the possibility that accepted sciences may be just a bit behind the curve. Consider the possibility that this might be something which is just outside the realm of your understanding. Consider the possibility that, just maybe, you do not know it all and in fact, you are NOT at the centre of the universe!

THE YOUNG MAN AND THE SEA

I looked on into the vastness as the gentle waves beat against my knees. Water and sand had mixed itself into an indistinguishable froth and swirled all around me. It was around 06:30 in the evening and the waves which had playfully battered me for the past couple of hours had grown increasingly less violent. Maybe this was the way it is. A moment of calm before the surge of high tide sets in. All around me people were fixated by the red sun slowly calling it a day and sinking into the water in the horizon. 

The beach front was lined with red flags to deter any new-comers from entering the water now. Life guards were slowly urging the water-dwellers to get back to the safety of the beach almost as if to remind them that the land was where they really belong. The sky was a crimson so majestic that it bathed any other color scheme around in a red hue. My ears had shut off every noise except for the calming swish of the ocean. The sounds of the occasional barking dog or the fellow human beings failed to register in my mind. I knew I was living a perfect moment which comes but rarely in life. I was under a spell, I was feeling at peace, I felt one with the vast grey ocean ahead of me and the endless crimson skies on top.

I was in Goa for a couple of days to celebrate my father's birthday in all its grandeur. My sis and me had gone the extra mile this time to ensure that the day would be something both our parents would remember for a long time. We had gone ahead and booked a killer resort on one of the best private beaches of the west coast. The fact that our close knit family was rarely together, all in one place, owing to the inconvenient truth of 'growing-up' had made this trip very special to all of us. Everything worked out perfectly and after 3 magical days I had came to say goodbye to the sea before calling it a day.

It is hard to explain the connection I feel with the oceans and the seas. It is a well known fact that almost all forms of life originated in the ocean. Life swam for centuries before it decided to gamble its prospects on land and learned to walk. When I hear the rumble of the sea and feel her salty breath on my face it is like something primal in me clicks. I forget the land dwelling tactics which generations of creatures before me perfected through endless cycles of evolution. When I run into the warm embrace of water, I feel like... I am home.

I am sure I am not the only one who feels this way. Love for the seas is an emotion which has found expression in all cultures and societies of the world. Our body is 70% water. Essentially, we are muscle bags filled with a lot of saline solution. Our brain is 85% water. It is amazing that when you think about it, even now, life essentially begins in water. Whether it is in a womb or an egg. Maybe the love for water and the oceans is an emotion which is genetically encoded in us. Maybe it is a part of our psyche to remind us, who we are and where we came from. Maybe this is why a visit to the beach offers a natural recharge to our souls. After the stressful city life, the seas somehow re-align us  to the rhythm of nature and fills us with the sense of being a part of something bigger.

Now that I think about it, I have lived all my life in close proximity to the ocean. I've spent all of my early childhood in Cochin, The queen of the Arabian sea (It wasn't called Kochi then). I left for Doha when I started with middle school. Interestingly the only familiar sign in Doha from my past life was the Corniche (Marine drive). I came to Trivandrum for my Entrance coaching, a city well known for the amazing beaches around it. I did my graduation in Kozhikode, the seat of power of the Zamorins, the Sagar Samrats. And after graduation I went to Jamnagar which was again a port city. I guess this one year in Hyderabad was the only long-stay where I was so far in-land since the day I was born. Maybe this was why I needed the Goa sojourn so badly.

All these thoughts were playing in my mind when a loud alarm shriek put a sudden end to my perfect moment. The life-guards who had failed to cajole us 'tourists' out of their waters had turned to more aggressive tactics to get the job done. I recalled my sister (who is lucky enough to live in Goa) telling me that the next step would be for the life guards to surf into the water and physically remove us. I wasn't really looking forward to that prospect.

I bowed down, dipped below the surface for one last time. I knew I had to get back to regular life soon and  I was trying to impress the calm, deep into my being. I rose up, looked at the sun and bringing my hands together in salutation, I recited the prayer my mom had taught me as a kid. This symbolic gesture marked the end of the day in a typical Hindu household. I was surprised that an agnostic like me had inadvertently gone back, if only for a moment , to being a believer.

Then I turned and walked back to land, lost in reverie of my perfect moment. 

       

"HIS EYES WERE AN OCEAN OF CALM....."

During my regular random net surfing, I came across a photograph. An image which shocked me and burned itself into my psyche. This post is completely about that one image. I thought of putting it up here because I feel that everyone should see and be aware of it.

Throughout history, self-immolations have been the last-resort expression of protesters, clearly conveying the message that they would rather die than remain downtrodden. There are many instances in history where self immolation by one man has lead to the unification of the oppressed, mass civilian revolutions and downfall of regimes.

In India, Potti Sreeramulu's death after a 57 day hunger-strike lead to the creation of Andhra Pradesh in 1952 and laid precedent to the linguistic basis of state divisions. More recently, in 2010, Mohamed Bouazizi, a street vendor in Tunisia set himself on fire to protest against the harassment and humiliation he had to face from the Sidi Bouzid Municipal Officers. This incident was the spark (no pun intended) which grew into the Tunisian uprising which in turn was the beginning of the Arab springs where the tyrannical regimes of 4 Arab countries were eventually over-thrown. 

   

The photograph I came across is of a similar self-

immolation by a Buddhist monk in Saigon, South Vietnam.

South Vietnam of 1963 was a turbulent place. While more than 80% of the population was Buddhist, the government was pro-catholic, lead by Ngo Dinh Diem. The constant threat of violence and guerilla attacks by the Viet-cong gave the Diem Government a facade to follow its oppressive policies against the non-catholic population of South Vietnam. 

Buddhists were treated as second grade citizens in their home-land with no say in its governance. Catholics were given preference for promotions and other perks in the government services and the army. Catholic establishments enjoyed tax favors and land grants. International aid was restricted by the government to villages which agreed to convert to Christianity. Diem's brother, Pierre Martin Ngo Dình Thuc, was an arch-bishop and commanded a private army which was accused of criminal intimidation and extortion.

The first Buddhist mass protest was against the government legislation which prevented them from celebrating Buddha Purnima. Government forces fired at unarmed civilians killing nine protestors, which was followed by wide spread raids of pagodas and other Buddhist establishments. This further aggravated the crisis and for months Buddhists held protests demanding equal rights. The culmination of the protests was the self-immolation of Thich Quang Duc, a senior Mahayana Buddhist monk.

The act occurred in an intersection in Saigon near the Cambodian Embassy. Quang Duc sat in a meditative padmasana position at the centre of the road, with his prayer beads, while his disciples poured gasoline over him. After a short prayer, he set himself on fire in front of his supporters, government forces and a few International journalists. 

His last message to the government was -  "Before closing my eyes and moving towards the vision of the Buddha, I respectfully plead to President Ngo Dinh Diem to take a mind of compassion towards the people of the nation and implement religious equality to maintain the strength of the homeland eternally. I call the venerables, reverends, members of the sangha and the lay Buddhists to organize in solidarity to make sacrifices to protect Buddhism." 

(I realize that the pic is coming out of the frame a bit but I didn't want to make it smaller and ruin it.)

Throughout the process, the monk never flinched or 

showed any signs of suffering. "His eyes were an Ocean of Calm and a half smile played on his lips while he lit the match" observed Malcolm Browne of Associated press who captured the above image.

David Halberstam of Newyork Times who was at the scene summed it up rather graphically - "I was to see that sight again, but once was enough. Flames were coming from a human being; his body was slowly withering and shriveling up, his head blackening and charring. In the air was the smell of burning human flesh; human beings burn surprisingly quickly. Behind me I could hear the sobbing of the Vietnamese who were now gathering. I was too shocked to cry, too confused to take notes or ask questions, too bewildered to even think ... As he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing people around him."

The photo was widely circulated and it shook the international conscience. Plight of the Buddhists in Vietnam became a cause which received global attention with this one image. American government withdrew their support for the Diem regime and within months of Quang Duc's sacrifice, Vietnam was witness to a military coup d'état. Diem and his confidantes were captured and executed and a military revolutionary council came into power in Vietnam. 

Now I usually do not support violence even when it is self inflicted. However the composure with which the monk sat through his incineration and the total lack of emotions from his part leaves me intrigued. This might be an instance where the world witnessed the age old Buddhist dictum of 'mind over matter'.

Malcolm Browne won the Pulitzer prize for International Journalism for capturing Thich Quang Duc's self immolation and revealing to the world, the plight of the Buddhists in South Vietnam.

Note : I have taken the quotes as it is shown in Wikipedia.