“If you (woman) are human, you will smash your chain to stand tall”
-Nasrin’s Jhumur
Perhaps the talk of feminism and feminist writers is not alien to us and neither is the fact that women have constantly been suppressed under the garb of Patriarchy. But even amidst this social bias, there remain arrays of beams, which will willingly tear through the curtains of darkness and help the seeds of feminism resurface and further nurture them to mould into full bloom.
What we mustn’t conceptualise fallaciously is the fact that these feminist writers are devoid of power and most of all mere expression. On the contrary, many feminist works blatantly echo the female’s trials and tribulations pertaining to the real societal scenario and reek of what is simply termed ‘rawness’.
For centuries, society has had a tussle with these feminists and we do know of occasions when the subject of feminism has been evocative enough to conjure lurid images of communal rioting and many other forms of social evil, stemming from the sinister minds of many out there, amidst us. There have been innumerable controversies surrounding the mindsets of these feminist writers, which if rationally contemplated on, depict only the truth and nothing else. It is not their usage of imagery, but their conceptualisation of the truth that causes this pandemonium.
The topic of Indian feminism is incomplete without an analysis of one of India’s newest, most difficult and sinisterly raw feminist writer, Dr. Taslima Nasrin. An MBBS from the Dhaka medical college, Nasrin grew up in a state of affairs that challenged her sense of autonomy and mere expression. Oppression played the key protagonist, backed by lurid viciousness that intricately bound together with the author’s contorted life to make it inescapable. Childhood too was lost somewhere in the murky undergrowth of social evil and so was the mere fun of being a lady in the traumatising and persistent condition of life that wasn’t anything but black.
Nasrin’s personality is like her writing- rather vague. It reeks of the horrific indignance of a feminist coupled with the golden eye for detail. It symbolises the unravelling plethora of individual stimulation and the bittersweet brew of pessimistic optimism. In short she befits Rushdie’s comment “…a difficult woman and an advocate (horror of horrors) of free love, Nasrin has conjured tears by reconstructing and rearticulating her experience of humiliation”
Anybody who has read Taslima Nasrin would agree that not only is her thought process bare and wild, it is speckled with innumerably vast attempts at seeking love as a revolutionary concept. Thus, her depiction of the Indian woman is par a single role like a daughter or sister or wife, rather it exceeds all others by acting as an arbitrary platform for the female to protest through the mighty power of words and most of all mere raw expression.
When I read Nasrin’s controversial Shodh the feeling that came over me was not that of an extensively researched and remoulded soap, but of a dismally true picture of the Indian woman, that felt as if it demanded my sympathy and awe.
Shodh revokes the hues of social evil, telling the tale of young Jhumur and her repressed autonomy and love. While she bears the fruit of a faithful husband, his consistent rebuttal leaves her shattered, dangling between the doldrums of abortion. Thus sets in a tale of Jhumur’s indignant perseverance and most of all the bittersweet vengeance of her questioning love in the most vividly defined and detailed narration, bound by intricate instance and difficult humanism.
Dr. Nasrin is truly an epitome of stoicism and spitefulness. Not an escapist- a feminist.
Showing posts with label The Poised Blue Birds- a collection of essays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Poised Blue Birds- a collection of essays. Show all posts
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Gandhi- sublime memories of a Father
“I have held my flesh as a dutiful human, but the world as a Father”
-Mahatma Gandhi
Perhaps the most intriguing persona of the era of India’s much awaited independence was Mohandas, the one-man army, the one- cloud sky and the one- line story. He is long gone, perhaps years before you and I could even have heard of him or known him or seen him. His dainty yet forthright figure that had delved deeply into the bloody river of India’s freedom can no longer be seen swimming again, nor can his charisma or his charm conjure the resurrection of the Indian soil and fortify the nation for forthcoming generations.
We celebrated with much zest as India touched her sixtieth year of Independence- Something, in which Mohandas played the key protagonist. And what to say of his power, he adorned the cape of the Nation’s father with such responsiveness that he died wearing it. (And even on his deathbed, his cotton cape was spotless; inspite of the fact that it had witnessed lurid viciousness and had even fought dearly for freedom). Free India, kissed the sixtieth cloud in her sky on the 15th of august and just a few days down the line Mohandas has received the sixty medals of his sacrifice- one that was only his and contained the contribution of no one else- on October the 2nd.
Bapu, as he was dearly christened by the nation was a man of few words. His actions said more than words and words said what even the actions of the nation couldn’t. To you, our parents, our grandparents and me he was no more than the father of our nation, but to his own flesh he was something too- A father who was never theirs. A father who had to be shared with the billion Indians that took shelter under his wing and respected him equally. Thus not much is known about Mohandas’ family life. Perhaps it was so fragmented that it could never really be pieced together.
Kasturba and Mohandas were both 13 when their marriage was arranged, mere children who deserved much more than what they got. Then Gandhi was young and he taught his child- wife the alphabet as a child- teacher. “Little did I know I had enrolled myself into a bond of child marriage” reminiscences Gandhi much later.
The Gandhi blood- line began with their first son Harilal in 1888. Perhaps he is the key that differentiates between Bapu’s personal and public life (one he himself never claimed to have). Harilal’s indignance towards Mohandas’ being Bapu for the whole country, and his feeling victimised after Bapu refuses his bail, totally shatters him. This causes me to think, did Bapu, who fathered the whole Nation fail as a father to his own blood? Or was the cost of our Nations independence the fragmentation of one relationship- one family?
-Mahatma Gandhi
Perhaps the most intriguing persona of the era of India’s much awaited independence was Mohandas, the one-man army, the one- cloud sky and the one- line story. He is long gone, perhaps years before you and I could even have heard of him or known him or seen him. His dainty yet forthright figure that had delved deeply into the bloody river of India’s freedom can no longer be seen swimming again, nor can his charisma or his charm conjure the resurrection of the Indian soil and fortify the nation for forthcoming generations.
We celebrated with much zest as India touched her sixtieth year of Independence- Something, in which Mohandas played the key protagonist. And what to say of his power, he adorned the cape of the Nation’s father with such responsiveness that he died wearing it. (And even on his deathbed, his cotton cape was spotless; inspite of the fact that it had witnessed lurid viciousness and had even fought dearly for freedom). Free India, kissed the sixtieth cloud in her sky on the 15th of august and just a few days down the line Mohandas has received the sixty medals of his sacrifice- one that was only his and contained the contribution of no one else- on October the 2nd.
Bapu, as he was dearly christened by the nation was a man of few words. His actions said more than words and words said what even the actions of the nation couldn’t. To you, our parents, our grandparents and me he was no more than the father of our nation, but to his own flesh he was something too- A father who was never theirs. A father who had to be shared with the billion Indians that took shelter under his wing and respected him equally. Thus not much is known about Mohandas’ family life. Perhaps it was so fragmented that it could never really be pieced together.
Kasturba and Mohandas were both 13 when their marriage was arranged, mere children who deserved much more than what they got. Then Gandhi was young and he taught his child- wife the alphabet as a child- teacher. “Little did I know I had enrolled myself into a bond of child marriage” reminiscences Gandhi much later.
The Gandhi blood- line began with their first son Harilal in 1888. Perhaps he is the key that differentiates between Bapu’s personal and public life (one he himself never claimed to have). Harilal’s indignance towards Mohandas’ being Bapu for the whole country, and his feeling victimised after Bapu refuses his bail, totally shatters him. This causes me to think, did Bapu, who fathered the whole Nation fail as a father to his own blood? Or was the cost of our Nations independence the fragmentation of one relationship- one family?
"Locks Of Love"- A Report On Sunita Williams
“Space is a transparent void. If we choose to see a riot of colours, we will see it even in the vast abyss of blackness!” said Flight Engineer ‘Suni’ Williams while communicating with the Earth from the International Space Station (ISS) situated approximately 400 kilometers above the Earth’s Surface.
‘Suni’ who is temporarily residing at the International Space Station is conducting various experiments as well as the ‘Space- Walks’ in order to rewire the entire Space Station and fix its solar array. Once the space walk is successfully completed, power will be fully online from the station's solar array wings. Also the station's power system will be ready for additional expansion with more arrays and new laboratories that are to be delivered next year.
During the critical power system overhaul, lights, smoke detectors, ventilation fans and other ISS systems will be shut off as well as half of the orbital laboratory will be powered down while ‘Suni’ reconfigures the station's power system to its permanent configuration.
A vital cooling system pump must perform properly afterward to ensure the work is successful. ‘Suni’ will also be given the go ahead to inspect and tap the portside wing of the space station's previous solar arrays.
‘Suni’ whose real name is Sunita Lyn Williams was born on 19th September in Euclid, Ohio and is an astronaut with Nasa. She graduated with a Bachelor in Physical Sciences and previously worked with the U.S Navy after which she was recruited by Nasa. During her Naval Service Sunita was honoured twice with the Navy Commendation Medal, once with the Navy and Marine Corps Achievement medal and the Humanitarian Service Medal.
Selected by NASA in June 1998, Williams began her training the same year. Her Astronaut Candidate training included orientation briefings and tours, numerous scientific and technical briefings, intensive instruction in Shuttle and International Space Station systems, physiological training and ground school to prepare for T-38 flight training, as well as learning water and wilderness survival techniques.
Following a period of training and evaluation, Williams worked in Moscow with the Russian Space Agency on the Russian contribution to the International Space Station (ISS), and with the first expedition crew sent to the ISS. Following the return of Expedition 1, Williams worked within the Robotics branch on the ISS Robotic Arm and the related Special Purpose Dexterous Manipulator. She was a crewmember on the Neemo 2 mission, living underwater in the Aquarius habitat for nine days in May 2002
Sunita’s parents Dr. Deepak and Mrs. Bonnie Pandya, reside in Falmouth, Massachusetts. However, Sunita’s routes can be traced back to Gujarat in India where she is seen often, eating the Indian food her grandmother cooks.
Her recreational interests include running, swimming, biking, triathlons, windsurfing, snowboarding and bow hunting and she has a pet named Gorby who she wanted to take with her to space but couldn’t because of obvious reasons!
Among the personal items Williams took with her to the ISS are a copy of the Bhagavad Gita, a small statue of Lord Ganesha and some Samosas.
Recently, when the crew from the mission, STS 116 returned after safely leaving Sunita at the ISS, they brought back Sunita’s Hair that she had decided to donate to an NGO “Locks Of Love” in order to make wigs for children undergoing chemotherapy.
‘Suni’ who is temporarily residing at the International Space Station is conducting various experiments as well as the ‘Space- Walks’ in order to rewire the entire Space Station and fix its solar array. Once the space walk is successfully completed, power will be fully online from the station's solar array wings. Also the station's power system will be ready for additional expansion with more arrays and new laboratories that are to be delivered next year.
During the critical power system overhaul, lights, smoke detectors, ventilation fans and other ISS systems will be shut off as well as half of the orbital laboratory will be powered down while ‘Suni’ reconfigures the station's power system to its permanent configuration.
A vital cooling system pump must perform properly afterward to ensure the work is successful. ‘Suni’ will also be given the go ahead to inspect and tap the portside wing of the space station's previous solar arrays.
‘Suni’ whose real name is Sunita Lyn Williams was born on 19th September in Euclid, Ohio and is an astronaut with Nasa. She graduated with a Bachelor in Physical Sciences and previously worked with the U.S Navy after which she was recruited by Nasa. During her Naval Service Sunita was honoured twice with the Navy Commendation Medal, once with the Navy and Marine Corps Achievement medal and the Humanitarian Service Medal.
Selected by NASA in June 1998, Williams began her training the same year. Her Astronaut Candidate training included orientation briefings and tours, numerous scientific and technical briefings, intensive instruction in Shuttle and International Space Station systems, physiological training and ground school to prepare for T-38 flight training, as well as learning water and wilderness survival techniques.
Following a period of training and evaluation, Williams worked in Moscow with the Russian Space Agency on the Russian contribution to the International Space Station (ISS), and with the first expedition crew sent to the ISS. Following the return of Expedition 1, Williams worked within the Robotics branch on the ISS Robotic Arm and the related Special Purpose Dexterous Manipulator. She was a crewmember on the Neemo 2 mission, living underwater in the Aquarius habitat for nine days in May 2002
Sunita’s parents Dr. Deepak and Mrs. Bonnie Pandya, reside in Falmouth, Massachusetts. However, Sunita’s routes can be traced back to Gujarat in India where she is seen often, eating the Indian food her grandmother cooks.
Her recreational interests include running, swimming, biking, triathlons, windsurfing, snowboarding and bow hunting and she has a pet named Gorby who she wanted to take with her to space but couldn’t because of obvious reasons!
Among the personal items Williams took with her to the ISS are a copy of the Bhagavad Gita, a small statue of Lord Ganesha and some Samosas.
Recently, when the crew from the mission, STS 116 returned after safely leaving Sunita at the ISS, they brought back Sunita’s Hair that she had decided to donate to an NGO “Locks Of Love” in order to make wigs for children undergoing chemotherapy.
Debut
The world is one big sack. And in the big sack are assorted opportunities waiting to be discovered. Well, what is ironic is that even though the sack full of breaks is always ready to give somebody a chance, there are only a few who will take the risk- A risk that may ruin their entire life- A chance, that may frighten them to take risks again. But what is equally essential to understand is that there is probability of the chance succeeding and yielding, what is known as success. The term success though, has different meanings for many. While for some, success is only when there is some monetary gain, for others, even thinking of taking the chance is in its own special way, success. Well, if we all follow this policy, that we have been given this one life to do everything, then nothing can obstruct the straight path between success and us. Many at times, the hindrances are nothing but psychological obstacles that have been made by us after we have witnessed someone’s failure. But if we don’t even make the effort of getting out there and challenging our beliefs, then life will be a monotonous brew of inexpressive ideas. Truly, the sack of opportunities is nowhere else but in our minds. Though it is placed deep inside the layers of our brain, a thought can make all the difference. Just one spark can cause a variety of ideas to unfold themselves and project themselves in our minds. But many at times even though we are motivated to do something, stray influences change our perspective. Well, in such cases merely faith can lead us through. If we desire to do something strongly and are willing to risk everything we have for it, then we will succeed. Such positive thoughts will do us no harm; rather they will do us some good. After all, even Gandhiji had to take the first step in the dark, and it was only then that he brought a whole country together and crossed the threshold of freedom!
The Namesake By Jhumpa Lahiri (4.5/5)
The Malaldy of Naming
Pulitzer Prize winning author Jhumpa Lahiri was born and brought up in England and Rhode Island. Though, born Nilanjana Sudheshna in 1967, she changed her name to Jhumpa soon after. Lahiri is known for her poignant stories that are trivial and eloquently poised. Her novel Interpreter Of Malaldies was critically acclaimed all over the world for which she was also awarded the Pulitzer. Using her soft, evocative style and subtle descriptions, The Namesake, her second book comes out as just another family saga, caught inbetween trials and tribulations and struggling to break away from the trammels of convention. This evidently ambushed predictableness, makes the book special.
Life is one big hullabaloo. A homogenous brew of pungence that stays with you forever. And in this journey called life, ‘change’ plays a major role. Change is ineveitable, and in the changing circumstances, it is better to understand the nuances of changing time or else, the consequeces can be dire. Resisting change, resists individual development and changing openly is merely stepping onto the next step of human development.
The Ganguly’s are one such Indian family, having their ‘traditional’ conservativenss. Ashok, the bread winner, a physisist is ready to leave his hometown- the gullies of Calcutta, heading towards newer opputunities that are half the world away in Massacheusets.
And ofcourse his endeavor is incomplete without the cooperation of his wife Ashima, a petite bengalli, who bravely yet evidently, sacrifices all the Indian dreams that she had spent her nuptial nights stitching. Thus begins a journey, that meticulously meanders itself around the complexity and agrresion of human emotions yet sets one golden principle aside that the greatest journeys are the ones that bring you home!
Ashok is the ordinary husband. He loves his wife but loves something else too. Only this time it is not a human, but a book. The Overcoat- by Nikolai Gogol, that irks him to embark on a journey that shall help him learn and widen his perspective, beyond the Indian ways and traditions. And here he is, in the midst of rush hour American traffic, while Ashima is waiting for him so very patiently, even though the labour contractions are virtually tearing through her stomach.
And thus the protagonist of the book is born, who is nameless! The two new parents cannot help but nickname their son Gogol for a letter sent by the maternal grandmother containing her granson’s name is lost.
Young Gogol is indignant. He feels conscious of himself. Why on Earth did his parents name him after an eccentric Russian Author? But Ashok has the perfect answer. To him, Nikolai’s works are his sole motivators. They taught him that he was wasting his life and that he lived through the dreadful accident just so that he could mould his perspective into a productive life!
But nonchallant Gogol is unperturbed. He is determined to change his name. And author Jhumpa Lahiri relates to this as something of her own life. The day she had taken the decision to change her name, the agony everybody around her felt and the sheer indignance she had to overcome.
Gogol’s nonchallace earns him a name Nikhil (meaning limtless). And this is from where his story begins. And what is eloquently said between the lines is that sometimes, it takes a jolt to change a person.
Gogol’s new personality as Nikhil earns him the best degrees, girlfriends and dreams, but he lacks the hint of Indian values, that his father had.
Life suddenly takes a drastic turn and we find ourselves in a position that when the bread winner of the Gangully family after having tried to instill his morals, leaves for paradise.
Nikhil is shattered and his life changes. He begins to think of his lonely mother caught inbetween the void created after his father’s death. And thus he gives up everyhting for her and decides to embark on a journey that shall take him to where his father began. His sole companion being, a battered copy of The Overcoat that had once saved his father from delusion.
The Namesake for me is thus a namesake itself. Nikhil’s realization brings him closer to my heart making me think ahead of my time while wondering how to conquer the unforseen delusions in my life. And it is needless to say, that the book brings the protagonist back home. Truly, a journey in itself, Jhumpa Lahiri’s Namesake is the ticket to realizing your dreams and aquring what is simply termed sanity.
Pulitzer Prize winning author Jhumpa Lahiri was born and brought up in England and Rhode Island. Though, born Nilanjana Sudheshna in 1967, she changed her name to Jhumpa soon after. Lahiri is known for her poignant stories that are trivial and eloquently poised. Her novel Interpreter Of Malaldies was critically acclaimed all over the world for which she was also awarded the Pulitzer. Using her soft, evocative style and subtle descriptions, The Namesake, her second book comes out as just another family saga, caught inbetween trials and tribulations and struggling to break away from the trammels of convention. This evidently ambushed predictableness, makes the book special.
Life is one big hullabaloo. A homogenous brew of pungence that stays with you forever. And in this journey called life, ‘change’ plays a major role. Change is ineveitable, and in the changing circumstances, it is better to understand the nuances of changing time or else, the consequeces can be dire. Resisting change, resists individual development and changing openly is merely stepping onto the next step of human development.
The Ganguly’s are one such Indian family, having their ‘traditional’ conservativenss. Ashok, the bread winner, a physisist is ready to leave his hometown- the gullies of Calcutta, heading towards newer opputunities that are half the world away in Massacheusets.
And ofcourse his endeavor is incomplete without the cooperation of his wife Ashima, a petite bengalli, who bravely yet evidently, sacrifices all the Indian dreams that she had spent her nuptial nights stitching. Thus begins a journey, that meticulously meanders itself around the complexity and agrresion of human emotions yet sets one golden principle aside that the greatest journeys are the ones that bring you home!
Ashok is the ordinary husband. He loves his wife but loves something else too. Only this time it is not a human, but a book. The Overcoat- by Nikolai Gogol, that irks him to embark on a journey that shall help him learn and widen his perspective, beyond the Indian ways and traditions. And here he is, in the midst of rush hour American traffic, while Ashima is waiting for him so very patiently, even though the labour contractions are virtually tearing through her stomach.
And thus the protagonist of the book is born, who is nameless! The two new parents cannot help but nickname their son Gogol for a letter sent by the maternal grandmother containing her granson’s name is lost.
Young Gogol is indignant. He feels conscious of himself. Why on Earth did his parents name him after an eccentric Russian Author? But Ashok has the perfect answer. To him, Nikolai’s works are his sole motivators. They taught him that he was wasting his life and that he lived through the dreadful accident just so that he could mould his perspective into a productive life!
But nonchallant Gogol is unperturbed. He is determined to change his name. And author Jhumpa Lahiri relates to this as something of her own life. The day she had taken the decision to change her name, the agony everybody around her felt and the sheer indignance she had to overcome.
Gogol’s nonchallace earns him a name Nikhil (meaning limtless). And this is from where his story begins. And what is eloquently said between the lines is that sometimes, it takes a jolt to change a person.
Gogol’s new personality as Nikhil earns him the best degrees, girlfriends and dreams, but he lacks the hint of Indian values, that his father had.
Life suddenly takes a drastic turn and we find ourselves in a position that when the bread winner of the Gangully family after having tried to instill his morals, leaves for paradise.
Nikhil is shattered and his life changes. He begins to think of his lonely mother caught inbetween the void created after his father’s death. And thus he gives up everyhting for her and decides to embark on a journey that shall take him to where his father began. His sole companion being, a battered copy of The Overcoat that had once saved his father from delusion.
The Namesake for me is thus a namesake itself. Nikhil’s realization brings him closer to my heart making me think ahead of my time while wondering how to conquer the unforseen delusions in my life. And it is needless to say, that the book brings the protagonist back home. Truly, a journey in itself, Jhumpa Lahiri’s Namesake is the ticket to realizing your dreams and aquring what is simply termed sanity.
Recovery Of The Theological Bible
"You will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me."
These were Jesus’s words to his brother- like disciple Judas Iscariot. Although Christianity believes strongly that Judas turned out to be a traitor, a recent discovery of Judas’s Gospel has jolted Christian faith.
A farmer, working near the caves of El Minya, Egypt retrieved this theological Bible- The Gospel of Judas.
A Gospel is a doctrine regarded as of prime importance. These ancient Christian texts have helped preserve the teachings of Jesus.
What first seemed to be writings of the native Christians were later deciphered and the following story now questions Christian faith, leaving modern theologians bewildered.
Judas Iscariot was one of Jesus’s twelve Apostles. These twelve special people, including his wife Mary Magellan were Jesus’s prime disciples. According to older Christian texts, these Apostles were chosen for a mission- to heal the sick, drive out demons and to raise the dead.
Gradually, Jesus’s relationship grew manyfold with his Apostles. Time passed quickly and soon Jesus felt weary of the world.He wanted to unite with his father in heaven and knew that only sacrifice of the body would help him attain unity.
Thus, Jesus approached Judas.The reason as to why Jesus approached Judas among all his Apostles was the bond of trust both shared.
The fact- the Gospel suggests that Jesus wanted Judas to hand him over to the Romans is what Catholic priests have always seen as Judas’s betrayal.
It is believed, that on the ‘Last Supper’, Judas gently kissed his master on the cheek, which was an indication for the Romans to captivate God’s son. This was followed by the Jesus Christ’s crucifixion.
After the event, the Gnostics who followed Gnosticism or belief in mystical knowledge of the supreme divine,thought Judas’s act to be heretical or what was against the traditional doctorine.
Judas, whose ideas had been considered a heresy by the Gnostics comitted suicide after he realised what he had unintentionally done.
Thus, his followers- the Heretics wrote his Gospel describing the true event that had taken place and why Judas was Jesus’s most loved disciple.
The Gospel of Judas is therefore one of the most cherished discoveries and along with the release of ‘The Da Vinci Code’, Christianity is facing it’s true test.
These were Jesus’s words to his brother- like disciple Judas Iscariot. Although Christianity believes strongly that Judas turned out to be a traitor, a recent discovery of Judas’s Gospel has jolted Christian faith.
A farmer, working near the caves of El Minya, Egypt retrieved this theological Bible- The Gospel of Judas.
A Gospel is a doctrine regarded as of prime importance. These ancient Christian texts have helped preserve the teachings of Jesus.
What first seemed to be writings of the native Christians were later deciphered and the following story now questions Christian faith, leaving modern theologians bewildered.
Judas Iscariot was one of Jesus’s twelve Apostles. These twelve special people, including his wife Mary Magellan were Jesus’s prime disciples. According to older Christian texts, these Apostles were chosen for a mission- to heal the sick, drive out demons and to raise the dead.
Gradually, Jesus’s relationship grew manyfold with his Apostles. Time passed quickly and soon Jesus felt weary of the world.He wanted to unite with his father in heaven and knew that only sacrifice of the body would help him attain unity.
Thus, Jesus approached Judas.The reason as to why Jesus approached Judas among all his Apostles was the bond of trust both shared.
The fact- the Gospel suggests that Jesus wanted Judas to hand him over to the Romans is what Catholic priests have always seen as Judas’s betrayal.
It is believed, that on the ‘Last Supper’, Judas gently kissed his master on the cheek, which was an indication for the Romans to captivate God’s son. This was followed by the Jesus Christ’s crucifixion.
After the event, the Gnostics who followed Gnosticism or belief in mystical knowledge of the supreme divine,thought Judas’s act to be heretical or what was against the traditional doctorine.
Judas, whose ideas had been considered a heresy by the Gnostics comitted suicide after he realised what he had unintentionally done.
Thus, his followers- the Heretics wrote his Gospel describing the true event that had taken place and why Judas was Jesus’s most loved disciple.
The Gospel of Judas is therefore one of the most cherished discoveries and along with the release of ‘The Da Vinci Code’, Christianity is facing it’s true test.
The Supernatural World… Within Our Minds
The first thing in order to understand the paranormal phenomenon is that anything and everything can be paranormal or take the form of a paranormal activity. For example, why did your granny get up, fire in her eyes, one morning, and haul a piano at you? Sounds rather impossible but in a world full of superstitions, even grandma can do the extra- ordinary.
But what compelled grandma to do such a thing? It certainly can’t be her selfless love for you. Nor can she undergo some physical or hormonal metamorphoses one morning and develop biceps the size of boulders.
The answer is hidden somewhere in our mind. Even though we don’t want to believe that grandma was under the influence of some supernatural power, a particular portion of our mind quickly comprehends that grandma was possessed. That a violent spirit had gotten into her body and had changed her body metabolism so that grandma could haul piano’s at you.
This is really not our fault, for the human psyche is intriguing. We try to look out for the most mysterious and oddest details in every circumstance. And perhaps psychological analysis has led us to do some exemplary research on supernatural and paranormal powers.
Probably the first term that comes to mind is ‘Ghosts.’ What is important to understand is that Ghosts are not always clothed in white tunics and do not always carry heavy, sonorous chains with them. There have been many misconceptions and these are the ones that have lead to a universal hatred or fear for ghosts.
At first, what is a ghost? The term Ghost comes from the old English word ‘Gast’ which originally meant life -force. Later the people decided to give it broader meaning- souls. As times changed and as deaths became more frequent, the term gast was used to refer to somebody who had died. i.e. a dead soul and it was from here that Ghosts have evolved. Little did these narrow-minded, primitive Englishmen and Englishwomen know that their creation of Ghosts would haunt the human race for centuries to come and maybe even after we’re all gone!
Though there is no ‘real’ evidence about the existence of ghosts, many say they have had a paranormal encounter.
Psychiatrists and psychic detectives have been able to find alternative ways of creating conditions that would support feelings of melancholy. For example, the human brain is very sensitive to sounds. Sounds have various effects on the emotions of a person.
Locking a person in a dark room, without any windows or lighting for that matter, and playing a loud piano will stimulate feelings of manipulation, woe and drowsiness. These are the feelings that the victims of ghostly possession have narrated to psychiatrists. But largely, evidence from the past suggests that there is some power, which is negative that governs these supernatural feelings. While some will delve deeply into finding what causes the human psyche to produce such lurid images of pain, death and horror, to some, it is all- true no matter how much painstaking evidence is produced.
To study the matter from the perspective of a true- believer of Ghosts let’s study these vicious, psychological creations that have really stimulated debates on natural .vs. supernatural.
One of the main influencing factors of paranormal vision is Vedic literature. Scheming red eyed Brahmins, clad in the utmost horrendous apparel, and then there are the Vettalls who will force you to accompany them on a roller coater ride round the cemetery. Then there are the household Preetas who curse their cruel mother- in- laws and dance madly on rooftops!
What to say of India, abroad has it’s own share of authentic spooks. While the Viennese castles echo with sounds of their ruthless queen Marie Antoinette who runs around palaces breaking expensive furniture, in Transylvania, a rather hyped Dracula who flies lifelessly pitying his sad after- life of a bat, has been creating news.
There are six kinds of ghosts:
Replay Ghosts- who happen to appear on the spot of their death every night and take it upon themselves to drive the human race crazy with their antics.
Revenge ghosts- who will not stay calm until they haven’t taken all of the ice- cream from the evil ice- cream man, who had once reprimanded them.
Crisis ghosts- who appear at the time of a crisis and even if the situation can be handled, they make sure it turns into an un-handle-able mass of pandemonium.
Poltergeists- who will be of great help in breaking old crockery and will force you to spend some money on buying Borosil plates.
Animal ghosts- who bark day and night and pester you until you’re forced to commit suicide.
And Phantom ghosts- who are nothing but characters from your old comic books expressing their anger on being misplaced or manhandled.
And thus you see, the Supernatural world is like a magic elixir, capable of turning frail grandma into a wrestler of generous proportions and much more…
But what compelled grandma to do such a thing? It certainly can’t be her selfless love for you. Nor can she undergo some physical or hormonal metamorphoses one morning and develop biceps the size of boulders.
The answer is hidden somewhere in our mind. Even though we don’t want to believe that grandma was under the influence of some supernatural power, a particular portion of our mind quickly comprehends that grandma was possessed. That a violent spirit had gotten into her body and had changed her body metabolism so that grandma could haul piano’s at you.
This is really not our fault, for the human psyche is intriguing. We try to look out for the most mysterious and oddest details in every circumstance. And perhaps psychological analysis has led us to do some exemplary research on supernatural and paranormal powers.
Probably the first term that comes to mind is ‘Ghosts.’ What is important to understand is that Ghosts are not always clothed in white tunics and do not always carry heavy, sonorous chains with them. There have been many misconceptions and these are the ones that have lead to a universal hatred or fear for ghosts.
At first, what is a ghost? The term Ghost comes from the old English word ‘Gast’ which originally meant life -force. Later the people decided to give it broader meaning- souls. As times changed and as deaths became more frequent, the term gast was used to refer to somebody who had died. i.e. a dead soul and it was from here that Ghosts have evolved. Little did these narrow-minded, primitive Englishmen and Englishwomen know that their creation of Ghosts would haunt the human race for centuries to come and maybe even after we’re all gone!
Though there is no ‘real’ evidence about the existence of ghosts, many say they have had a paranormal encounter.
Psychiatrists and psychic detectives have been able to find alternative ways of creating conditions that would support feelings of melancholy. For example, the human brain is very sensitive to sounds. Sounds have various effects on the emotions of a person.
Locking a person in a dark room, without any windows or lighting for that matter, and playing a loud piano will stimulate feelings of manipulation, woe and drowsiness. These are the feelings that the victims of ghostly possession have narrated to psychiatrists. But largely, evidence from the past suggests that there is some power, which is negative that governs these supernatural feelings. While some will delve deeply into finding what causes the human psyche to produce such lurid images of pain, death and horror, to some, it is all- true no matter how much painstaking evidence is produced.
To study the matter from the perspective of a true- believer of Ghosts let’s study these vicious, psychological creations that have really stimulated debates on natural .vs. supernatural.
One of the main influencing factors of paranormal vision is Vedic literature. Scheming red eyed Brahmins, clad in the utmost horrendous apparel, and then there are the Vettalls who will force you to accompany them on a roller coater ride round the cemetery. Then there are the household Preetas who curse their cruel mother- in- laws and dance madly on rooftops!
What to say of India, abroad has it’s own share of authentic spooks. While the Viennese castles echo with sounds of their ruthless queen Marie Antoinette who runs around palaces breaking expensive furniture, in Transylvania, a rather hyped Dracula who flies lifelessly pitying his sad after- life of a bat, has been creating news.
There are six kinds of ghosts:
Replay Ghosts- who happen to appear on the spot of their death every night and take it upon themselves to drive the human race crazy with their antics.
Revenge ghosts- who will not stay calm until they haven’t taken all of the ice- cream from the evil ice- cream man, who had once reprimanded them.
Crisis ghosts- who appear at the time of a crisis and even if the situation can be handled, they make sure it turns into an un-handle-able mass of pandemonium.
Poltergeists- who will be of great help in breaking old crockery and will force you to spend some money on buying Borosil plates.
Animal ghosts- who bark day and night and pester you until you’re forced to commit suicide.
And Phantom ghosts- who are nothing but characters from your old comic books expressing their anger on being misplaced or manhandled.
And thus you see, the Supernatural world is like a magic elixir, capable of turning frail grandma into a wrestler of generous proportions and much more…
D ivination- An Art Bearing The Hue Of A Thousand Years
Man has lived through the past successfully. Be it through his endeavours of surviving to be the fittest or adapting the pragmatic approach of coherence with change, the past has yielded what the present nurtures to sculpt into the ‘perfect’ being.
Yet what the future holds is entirely unforeseen. Though it is overlooked on certain parameters, as it seems to be inevitable, today, life has taken a bend that allows it to see deeper into the thicket- To question belief, shatter fallacy of thought and most of all attempt to reveal what the Pandora’s box shall eventually shed light upon…tomorrow.
***
Though there is no real proof that clearly showcases the evidence of tomorrow’s morning, the fact remains that certain customs do eventually surface and that majority of the world believes in them as they govern it all.
Well many may question, that the future is still inevitable, why not satisfy yourself by trying to believe what the customs of our forefathers have presented to the whole world in the form of various tools that can be used as a medium of scrying and perhaps developing preconceived, yet hopeful notions about the future?
***
One such tool is D ivination or the art of foretelling the future using different methods that the divinor may decide. Infact, it is believed that divination as a concept emerged into the realm of reality some thousand years ago in China by studying the cracks on eggshells. Thus gradually, not only has half of china, but also half of the world has adopted these ancient methods. Life arguably can still not be called inevitable doom!
D ivination is a vague process. It involves the divinor to be a keen observer, one who has an eye for detail yet retains his distance from his tool as otherwise he might be made a medium.
***
Here are various techniques of D ivination that have been practiced for generations: -
Tasseomancy- reading tea leaves.
Smokescrying- visualising the future in smoke.
Cloudmastery- interpreting cloud formations.
Windscrying- talking to the wind.
Dreamscrying- interpreting dreams.
Ornithomancy- interpreting migrational pattern of birds.
Lecanomancy- reading marine rocks.
Hakata- transforming into a spirit of the ancestor.
Crotimance- practicing divination on cakes.
Yeastscrying- divination with bread.
Dactylomancy- divination with rings.
Ceroscopy- reading wax on water.
Phrenology- reading the bumps of the skull.
Arithmancy- divination by numbers.
Onychomancy- divination using fingernail samples.
Axinomancy- reading axe blades.
Belomancy- divination through arrows.
***
D ivination involves the divinor to practise and array of techniques. Thus there is freedom of choice coupled with the psychological satisfaction of obtaining results. What the Egyptians had invented years prior to independence can now be rationally (or irrationally) applied to every single being present because of the mobility of choice.
Often the laymen confuse E.S.P. (extra- sensory- powers) and D ivination. However, sceptics choose to rationally reason out the fact that while Divination can successfully be practiced among all, E.S.P. that stems from certain characteristics common to only the minds of some has scientific backing. Thus it is popularity versus fact, but not fact versus fiction!
Extra-Sensory Perception is defined as the ability to acquire information by paranormal means independent of any known physical senses or deduction from previous experience.
Certain E.S.P. are excessively popular, Clairvoyance for instance. After the Titanic disaster in 1912, certain sceptics claimed to have had a clairvoyant vision on the devastation. Further, these theories were backed by certain people’s reactions that stemmed from a continuous series of visions-precognitions or termed telekinesis (ability to move things without touching them) of the sea gods. While some received messages through paranormal encounters termed out of body experiences other preferred calling the disaster the handiwork of mediums (connectors with the dead).
***
D ivination is perhaps the most practiced style of fortune telling. It has captivated mankind for centuries. There are various reasons as to why this ancient art is still prevalent: -
~It uses inexpensive techniques
~Does not involve any sort of formal training
~Features in folk tales and fables
~Has a vast range of techniques
~Was first used among primitive beings
~Can be practised by practically anybody
Thus, D ivination holds the position of the primary tool for fortuntelling, as it is not only an epitome of beliefs but also the voice of all the primitive beings for whom there is no such expression as the ‘inevitable end’.
Friday, August 17, 2007
The Music Of My Heart
… A faint tune was playing in the background while I was writing this piece. An elegant, eloquent instrumental, maybe from the classics of one of Bollywood’s finest era- the 80’s. While the composers marvellously strummed a popular “Oh mere sona re” on their Sarod, the bass was a soft Carnatic raga that faintly echoed its presence through a Flute. Though this “jugalbandi” of instruments could easily have been called outdated by many, the fact is that all the current pieces of music that contain “vibe” and cause a ravishing trot of outrageous hip- shaking trace their roots to these old melodious classics.
Evolution has been gradual. It has been proven, that every species grows with certain characteristics of the ancestors of that particular Genus. Man for instance is an apt way to look at this balanced equilibrium of evolution. Each one of us is born with an individual identity but deep down inside, the blood running in our veins can be traced down distant generations of our families.
Similarly, the music we listen to today has been influenced in some or the other way by the past. A Veena has now taken the form of a Guitar that plays just the same notes, in a wider range of octaves to produce luring sounds that are capable of rocking concerts! Why then doesn’t the audience get driven into frenzy when a Veena or any other instrument (that shimmers in its antiquity) has effortlessly been played in an equally difficult composition of notes???
The answer- “Such instruments are outdated!”
Well, there may be many who still support the golden prevalence of these antique instruments; I too wouldn’t shudder to say I am part of those who do, but the fact remains that majority of the audiences prefer the newer, more modern instruments for some apparent reason unknown to me (even as I am trying to make up something…)
While many may argue, it all boils down to a matter of interests, may I ask why this interest for ancient Indian pieces has diminished to such a extent that people who listen to it religiously are looked down upon or are called “outdated listeners?”
Guys, if it wasn’t for these classical compositions, how would this new generation of “Aashiq- Banaya- Aapne” or “Shakalaka- Boom- Boom” or “Jhalak dikhala- ja” have evolved for that matter. (So Mr. Himesh Reshamiya, be thankful to the ancient composers of classical music for providing you a vivid selection of tunes to test your utterly nasal tone in…!)
PS1- this article has nothing to do with the fact that I am part of a secret classical music-promoting cult (Indian music specialisation).
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
The monologue of morality
“ What happened child? Are you afraid? It seems as if something is scaring you badly! Don’t be afraid of me! I am not a ghost! I am a just a pleat of your conscience.
Now speak to me and tell me what scares you!
Come again; is it failure that scares you child? Hmm, that’s one thing which I personally love dealing with! So you are scared that if you fail, the world will laugh at you! Well, if that’s the problem, then listen patiently. For what I shall tell you should just remain between both of us. I shall tell you the story of success!
About eighty long years back, there was a man. He was slender and black and Indian. All he wore was a cotton loincloth and all he ever held was a stick.
This fellow was ‘different’. Not only in terms of his dress- sense but also in terms of his ideas. He never thought of violence as bloodshed. For him, non- violence was the ultimate form of violence.
For him, god was not present in some material form. His god was his ‘truth’. And this is what led him to be the father of each and every Indian who has sprouted in India’s fertile soil. Bapu!
I cannot say that Bapu was of so and so class, no I cannot. Because he was a man, who abolished all these imaginary podiums of status. Everybody, including the animals that bore ounces of god’s elixir, or life were equal.
Bapu showed all of us a path. Frankly, it was the toughest and most crocked path one could ever follow. But it taught us so many things. And most of all, those who followed his path received sure short success. The others, who resorted to crime, were imprisoned in huge walls of guilt while their conscience interrogated them.
You ask me child, how this is related to success, I shall tell you. Follow Bapu’s footsteps. After all, his first step was also in the dark. The most important thing is to muster the courage of challenging your beliefs.
Get out there and ask yourself the same question again and again and again, until ‘you’ haven’t found the answer! What do you think; Bapu was born an experienced strategist? No he wasn’t! He was an ordinary man who cultivated the whole freedom struggle in his actions!
Success knows no experience! All it requires is a start and will power.
I Guess It’s Time For So- Long!
Last Sunday, I finished a good book and for the first time on turning the last page, my heart skipped a beat, my throat refused to gulp down air and an innocent tear trickled down my cheek.
As I kept the book on the shelf, beside numerous other ones, I began to notice all the books that I had read in the distant past and had left to be slapped by fumes of dust.
At first I became a little more conscious of the present, but then after a while, I was submerged in an ocean of nostalgia.
Each and every page, in those hundred odd books reminded me that they once shared a bond with me. That each and every one of those billion words had been read over and that each and every one of them helped to satisfy me by weaving vivid tales, some speckled with cheerfulness, some with melancholy.
What amazed me was that just one book had triggered in me, a series of revelations, that once discovered made me sentimental, however happy. But amidst all of this, I was sad too. How could I have forgotten all of those books so easily? How could I ignore such epitomes of knowledge, just because I was engaged, probably with something more superfluous!
Well that brings me to the message that I am trying to convey. Life is like one big book, which keeps on turning its pages everyday. At one point of time, this book too shall be over only this time, it will not be the book, but ‘we’ who shall be forgotten.
However brave one may be, it is always very tough to say good- bye and to wish somebody adieu with a smile.
So the next time, you do something for the last time, however big or small the deed may be, cherish it forever in your minds so that when you die your soul is content.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Music & Music
Music is the soul of my life. No matter howmuch i may try to deny it, music always compells me to say it all. Everything that leaves me contemplating or just plainly troubled...
Here is a particular piece of music i had written down one rainy afternoon after having taken a long nap. Music knows no time, nor any language, nor a tune. All it knows is provision of a long lasting calm that lets me delve deeply into understanding the beauty of nature and my own thoughts that i am not able to impart to myself...
There go the drops, the lashing drops,
The lashing drops, that set me racing,
For fear of losing these little tiny droplets,
I let them overpower me with their charm...
Drops they engulf my mind,
Colour it blows a serene breeze,
Sounds they create an aura ablaze,
Called music, music and music...
Let these magnificent drops come,
Let me beckon them closer,
Soon they shall transpire softly,
Without even telling me or anyone...
Faith it binds my spirit,
Trust, it surrenders me to the supreme,
Sounds they create an aura ablaze,
Called music, music and music...
My piece was compossed in a matter of exactly seven minutes and thirty three seconds (which is how long the rain lasted...)
I know that all of you who will see this piece will concoct a different tune for it, like the rain, it never sounds the same twice...
Sounds they create an aura ablaze,
Called music, music and music...
Here is a particular piece of music i had written down one rainy afternoon after having taken a long nap. Music knows no time, nor any language, nor a tune. All it knows is provision of a long lasting calm that lets me delve deeply into understanding the beauty of nature and my own thoughts that i am not able to impart to myself...
There go the drops, the lashing drops,
The lashing drops, that set me racing,
For fear of losing these little tiny droplets,
I let them overpower me with their charm...
Drops they engulf my mind,
Colour it blows a serene breeze,
Sounds they create an aura ablaze,
Called music, music and music...
Let these magnificent drops come,
Let me beckon them closer,
Soon they shall transpire softly,
Without even telling me or anyone...
Faith it binds my spirit,
Trust, it surrenders me to the supreme,
Sounds they create an aura ablaze,
Called music, music and music...
My piece was compossed in a matter of exactly seven minutes and thirty three seconds (which is how long the rain lasted...)
I know that all of you who will see this piece will concoct a different tune for it, like the rain, it never sounds the same twice...
Sounds they create an aura ablaze,
Called music, music and music...
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