Excerpt from a piece I wrote:
"..... It had been pouring incessantly in Mumbai and all along the Expressway on both up and down journeys. The torrent, which makes everything murky and dissolved. The river of water flowing on the car windows; creating mesmerizing visual effects on scenery of the lush green landspace outside. The world seemed so fluid through that looking glass. No rigidity, just fluid ease. And the vehicle, cutting through that sea. And I sitting in that cocoon, in a protective shell. Or maybe not a protective shell, but a restrictive shell as it did not allow me to merge with the fluidity outside. If I could dissolve myself with that scene. If I could just be gone with it......"
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
What is your nature?
Story 1:
"Because," the monk replied, "to save it is my nature."
The Scorpion and the Frog A scorpion and a frog meet on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asks the frog to carry him across on its back. The
frog asks, "How do I know you won't sting me?" The scorpion says, "Because if I do, I will die too."
The frog is satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stings the frog. The frog feels the onset of
paralysis and starts to sink, knowing they both will drown, but has just enough time to gasp "Why?"
Replies the scorpion: "Its my nature..." Story 2:
Two monks were washing their bowls in the river when they noticed a scorpion that was drowning. One monk immediately scooped it up and set it upon the bank. In the process he was stung. He went back to washing his bowl and again the scorpion fell in. The monk saved the scorpion and was again stung. The other monk asked him, "Friend, why do you continue to save the scorpion when you know it's nature is to sting?"
"Because," the monk replied, "to save it is my nature."
Sunday, May 30, 2010
The Wolves Within
A grandson told of his anger at a schoolmate who had done him an injustice.
Grandfather said: "Let me tell you a story." "I, too, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But, hate wears you down and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times. It is as if there are two wolves inside me: one is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way. But the other wolf is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights with everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of then try to dominate my spirit."
The boy looked intently into his grandfather's eyes and asked, "Which one wins, Grandfather?"
The grandfather solemnly replied, "The one I feed."
Grandfather said: "Let me tell you a story." "I, too, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But, hate wears you down and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times. It is as if there are two wolves inside me: one is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way. But the other wolf is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights with everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of then try to dominate my spirit."
The boy looked intently into his grandfather's eyes and asked, "Which one wins, Grandfather?"
The grandfather solemnly replied, "The one I feed."
Friday, May 28, 2010
Buddha's algorithm
Following is Buddha's algorithm on what should be "right speech". [The text is part of a Buddhist sutta (sutra) which can viewed here. The sutta takes jibes at motives of a Jain Digambar monk (nigantha) in trying to pull Buddha into a difficult disucssion and thus disparage his teachings. No way to ascertain the validity. Would like to explore if Jain texts take same jibes at Buddha. For now, I am only interested in Buddha's algorithm]
Algorithm:
[1] In the case of words that are known to be unfactual, untrue, unbeneficial (or: not connected with the goal), unendearing & disagreeable to others, do not say them.
[2] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, unbeneficial, unendearing & disagreeable to others, do not say them.
[3] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, beneficial, but unendearing & disagreeable to others, have a sense of the proper time for saying them.
[4] In the case of words that are known to be unfactual, untrue, unbeneficial, but endearing & agreeable to others, do not say them.
[5] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, unbeneficial, but endearing & agreeable to others, do not say them.
[6] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, beneficial, and endearing & agreeable to others, have a sense of the proper time for saying them.
In this algorithm, there are 3 variable : A (factual, true), B (benfecial) and C (endearing, agreeable). There should exist 8 cases for 3 variables. The sutta refers to only 6 conditions. It missed out on [!A B C] and [!A B !C] case. Assuming that all acceptable cases must have a True value for B, both these cases could also be acceptable. Exploring further:
[!A B C] : Something like what was done in the movie "Life is Beautiful". The father tells lies to his son which are endearing and are meant to keep son's moral high. Are these acceptable? I guess yes.
[!A B !C] : Something like reverse psychology to motivate someone. Army commander saying that all new cadets are deplorable and are wimps as they are not pushing themselves hard enough. Are these acceptable? I cannot make up my mind.
I just added to Buddha's algorithm!!!! :)
BTW, help me with [!A B !C] case if you can.
Algorithm:
[1] In the case of words that are known to be unfactual, untrue, unbeneficial (or: not connected with the goal), unendearing & disagreeable to others, do not say them.
[2] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, unbeneficial, unendearing & disagreeable to others, do not say them.
[3] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, beneficial, but unendearing & disagreeable to others, have a sense of the proper time for saying them.
[4] In the case of words that are known to be unfactual, untrue, unbeneficial, but endearing & agreeable to others, do not say them.
[5] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, unbeneficial, but endearing & agreeable to others, do not say them.
[6] In the case of words that are known to be factual, true, beneficial, and endearing & agreeable to others, have a sense of the proper time for saying them.
In this algorithm, there are 3 variable : A (factual, true), B (benfecial) and C (endearing, agreeable). There should exist 8 cases for 3 variables. The sutta refers to only 6 conditions. It missed out on [!A B C] and [!A B !C] case. Assuming that all acceptable cases must have a True value for B, both these cases could also be acceptable. Exploring further:
[!A B C] : Something like what was done in the movie "Life is Beautiful". The father tells lies to his son which are endearing and are meant to keep son's moral high. Are these acceptable? I guess yes.
[!A B !C] : Something like reverse psychology to motivate someone. Army commander saying that all new cadets are deplorable and are wimps as they are not pushing themselves hard enough. Are these acceptable? I cannot make up my mind.
I just added to Buddha's algorithm!!!! :)
BTW, help me with [!A B !C] case if you can.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The Cucumber Sage
Abbott of Han-hsin monastery in the
Thirteenth year of the Earth Dragon period (898)
My dear friend, the most reverend master Tung-Wang,
Old and ill, I lay here knowing that writing this note will be my last act upon this earth and that by the time you read it I will be gone from this life.
Though we have not seen each other in the many years since we studied together under our most venerable Master, I have often thought of you, his most worthy successor. Monks from throughout China say that you are a true lion of the Buddha Dharma; one whose eye is a shooting star, whose hands snatch lightning, and whose voice booms like thunder. It is said that your every action shakes heaven and earth and causes the elephants and dragons of delusion to scatter helplessly. I am told that your monastery is unrivaled in severity, and that under your exacting guidance hundreds of monks pursue their training with utmost zeal and vigor. I've also heard that in the enlightened successor department your luck has not been so good. Which brings me to the point of this letter.
I ask that you now draw your attention to the young man to whom this note is attached. As he stands before you, no doubt smiling stupidly as he stuffs himself with pickled cucumbers, you may be wondering if he is as complete a fool as he appears, and if so, what prompted me to send him to you. In answer to the first question, I assure you that Wu-Ming's foolishness is far more complete than mere appearance would lead you to believe. As for the second question, I can only say that despite so benumbed a condition, or perhaps because of it, still more likely, despite of and because of it, Wu-Ming seems to unwittingly and accidentally serve the function of a great Bodhisattva. Perhaps he can be of service to you.
Allow him sixteen hours of sleep daily and provide him with lots of pickled cucumbers and Wu-Ming will always be happy. Expect nothing of him and you will be happy.
Respectfully, Chin-Mang
After Chin-mang's funeral, the supporters of his temple arranged for Wu-Ming's journey to Han-hsin monastery, where I resided, then, as now, as Abbott. A monk found Wu-ming at the monastery gate and seeing a note bearing my name pinned to his robe, led him to my quarters.
Customarily, when first presenting himself to the Abbott, a newly arrived monk will prostrate himself three times and ask respectfully to be accepted as a student. And so I was taken somewhat by surprise when Wu-ming walked into the room, took a pickled cucumber from the jar under his arm, stuffed it whole into his mouth, and happily munching away, broke into the toothless imbecilic grin that would one day become legendary. Taking a casual glance around the room, he smacked his lips loudly and said, "What's for lunch?"
After reading dear old Chin Mang's note, I called in the head monk and asked that he show my new student to the monk's quarters. When they had gone I reflected on chin-mang's words. Han-hsin was indeed a most severe place of training: winters were bitterly cold and in summer the sun blazed. The monks slept no more than three hours each night and ate one simple meal each day. For the remainder of the day they worked hard around the monastery and practiced hard in the meditation hall. But, alas, Chin-mang had heard correctly, Among all my disciples there was none whom I felt confident to be a worthy vessel to receive the untransmittable transmitted Dharma. I was beginning to despair that I would one day, bereft of even one successor, fail to fulfill my obligation of seeing my teacher's Dharma-linage continued.
The monks could hardly be faulted for complacency or indolence. Their sincere aspiration and disciplined effort were admirable indeed, and many had attained great clarity of wisdom. But they were preoccupied with their capacity for harsh discipline and proud of their insight. They squabbled with one another for positions of prestige and power and vied amongst themselves for recognition. Jealousy, rivalry and ambition seemed to hang like a dark cloud over Han-shin monastery, sucking even the most wise and sincere into its obscuring haze. Holding Chin-mang's note before me, I hoped and prayed that this Wu-ming, this "accidental Bodhisattva" might be the yeast my recipe seemed so much in need of.
To my astonished pleasure, Wu-ming took to life at Han-shin like a duck to water. At my request, he was assigned a job in the kitchen pickling vegetables. This he pursued tirelessly, and with a cheerful earnestness he gathered and mixed ingredients, lifted heavy barrels, drew and carried water, and, of course, freely sampled his workmanship. He was delighted!
When the monks assembled in the meditation hall, they would invariably find Wu-ming seated in utter stillness, apparently in deep and profound samadhi. No one even guessed that the only thing profound about Wu-ming's meditation was the profound unlikelihood that he might find the meditation posture, legs folded into the lotus position, back erect and centered, to be so wonderfully conducive to the long hours of sleep he so enjoyed.
Day after day and month after month, as the monks struggled to meet the physical and spiritual demands of monastery life, Wu-ming, with a grin and a whistle, sailed through it all effortlessly. Even though, if the truth be told, Wu-ming's Zen practice was without the slightest merit, by way of outward appearance he was judged by all to be a monk of great accomplishment and perfect discipline. Of course . I could have dispelled this misconception easily enough, but I sensed that Wu-ming's unique brand of magic was taking effect and I was not about to throw away this most absurdly skillful of means.
By turns the monks were jealous, perplexed, hostile, humbled and inspired by what they presumed to be Wu-ming's great attainment. Of course it never occurred to Wu-ming that his or anyone else's behavior required such judgments, for they are the workings of a far more sophisticated nature than his own mind was capable. Indeed, everything about him was so obvious and simple that others thought him unfathomably subtle.
Wu-ming's inscrutable presence had a tremendously unsettling effect on the lives of the monks, and undercut the web of rationalizations that so often accompanies such upset. His utter obviousness rendered him unintelligible and immune to the social pretensions of others. Attempts of flattery and invectives alike were met with the same uncomprehending grin, a grin the monks felt to be the very cutting edge of the sword of Perfect Wisdom. Finding no relief or diversion in such interchange, they were forced to seek out the source and resolution of their anguish each within his own mind. More importantly, and absurdly, Wu-ming caused to arise in the monks the unconquerable determination to fully penetrate the teaching "The Great Way is without difficulty" which they felt he embodied.
Though in the course of my lifetime I have encountered many of the most venerable progenitors of the Tathagata's teaching, never have I met one so skilled at awakening others to their intrinsic Buddhahood as this wonderful fool Wu-ming. His spiritual non-sequiturs were as sparks, lighting the flame of illuminating wisdom in the minds of many who engaged him in dialogue.
Once a monk approached Wu-ming and asked in all earnestness, "In the whole universe, what is it that is most wonderful?" Without hesitation Wu-ming stuck a cucumber before the monks face and exclaimed, "There is nothing more wonderful than this!" At that the monk crashed through the dualism of subject and object, "The whole universe is pickled cucumber; a pickled cucumber is the whole universe!" Wu-ming simply chuckled and said, "Stop talking nonsense. A cucumber is a cucumber; the whole universe is the whole universe. What could be more obvious?" The monk, penetrating the perfect phenomenal manifestation of Absolute Truth, clapped his hands and laughed, saying, "Throughout infinite space, everything is deliciously sour!"
On another occasion a monk asked Wu-ming, "The Third Patriarch said, "The Great Way is without difficulty, just cease having preferences." How can you then delight in eating cucumbers, yet refuse to even take one bit of a carrot?" Wu-ming said, "I love cucumbers; I hate carrots!" The monk lurched back as though struck by a thunderbolt. Then laughing and sobbing and dancing about he exclaimed, "Liking cucumbers and hating carrots is without difficulty, just cease preferring the Great Way!"
Within three years of his arrival, the stories of the "Great Bodhisattva of Han-hsin monastery" had made their way throughout the provinces of China. Knowing of Wu-ming's fame I was not entirely surprised when a messenger from the Emperor appeared summoning Wu-ming to the Imperial Palace immediately.
From throughout the Empire exponents of the Three Teachings of Buddhism, Confucianism and Taoism were being called to the Capitol, there the Emperor would proclaim one to be the true religion to be practiced and preached in all lands under his rule. The idea of such competition for Imperial favor is not to my approval and the likelihood that a religious persecution might follow troubled me greatly. But an order from the Emperor is not to be ignored, so Wu-ming and I set out the next day.
Inside the Great Hall were gathered the more than one hundred priests and scholars who were to debate one another. They were surrounded by the most powerful lords in all China, along with innumerable advisors, of the Son of Heaven. All at once trumpets blared, cymbals crashed, and clouds of incense billowed up everywhere. The Emperor, borne on by a retinue of guards, was carried to the throne. After due formalities were observed the Emperor signaled for the debate to begin.
Several hours passed as one after another priests and scholars came forward presenting their doctrines and responding to questions. Through it all Wu-ming sat obliviously content as he stuffed himself with his favorite food. When his supply was finished, he happily crossed his legs, straightened his back and closed his eyes. But the noise and commotion were too great and, unable to sleep, he grew more restless and irritable by the minute. As I clasped him firmly by the back of the neck in an effort to restrain him, the Emperor gestured to Wu-ming to approach the Throne.
When Wu-ming had come before him, the Emperor said, "Throughout the land you are praised as a Bodhisattva whose mind is like the Great Void itself, yet you have not had a word to offer this assembly. Therefore I say to you now, teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow." Wu-ming said nothing. After a few moments the Emperor, with a note of impatience, spoke again, "Perhaps you do not hear well so I shall repeat myself! Teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow!" Still Wu-ming said nothing, and silence rippled through the crowd as all strained forward to witness this monk who dared behave so bold a fashion in the Emperor's presence.
Wu-ming heard nothing the Emperor said, nor did he notice the tension that vibrated through the hall. All that concerned him was his wish to find a nice quiet place where he could sleep undisturbed. The Emperor spoke again, his voice shaking with fury, his face flushed with anger: "You have been summoned to this council to speak on behalf of the Buddhist teaching. Your disrespect will not be tolerated much longer. I shall ask one more time, and should you fail to answer, I assure you the consequence shall be most grave. Teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow!" Without a word Wu-ming turned and, as all looked on in dumbfounded silence, he made his way down the aisle and out the door. There was a hush of stunned disbelief before the crowd erupted into an uproar of confusion. Some were applauding Wu-ming's brilliant demonstration of religious insight, while others rushed about in an indignant rage, hurling threats and abuses at the doorway he had just passed through. Not knowing whether to praise Wu-ming or to have him beheaded, the Emperor turned to his advisors, but they were none the wiser. Finally, looking out at the frantic anarchy to which his grand debate had been reduced, the Emperor must surely have realized that no matter what Wu-ming's intentions might have been, there was now only one way to avoid the debate becoming a most serious embarrassment.
"The great sage of Han-hsin monastery has skillfully demonstrated that the great Tao cannot be confined by doctrines, but is best expounded through harmonious action. Let us profit by the wisdom he has so compassionately shared, and each endeavor to make our every step one that unites heaven and earth in accord with the profound and subtle Tao."
Having thus spoken the Son of Heaven concluded the Great Debate.
I immediately ran out to find Wu-ming, but he had disappeared in the crowded streets of the capitol.
Ten years have since passed, and I have seen nothing of him. However, on occasion a wandering monk will stop at Han-hsin with some bit of news. I am told that Wu-ming has been wandering about the countryside this past decade, trying unsuccessfully to find his way home. Because of his fame he is greeted and cared for in all quarters with generous kindness; however, those wishing to help him on his journey usually find that they have been helped on their own.
One young monk told of an encounter in which Wu-ming asked him, "Can you tell me where my home is?" Confused as to the spirit of the question. The monk replied, "Is the home you speak of to be found in the relative world of time and place, or do you mean the Original Home of all pervading Buddha nature?"
After pausing a moment to consider the question, Wu-ming looked up and, grinning as only he is capable, said, "Yes."
Thirteenth year of the Earth Dragon period (898)
My dear friend, the most reverend master Tung-Wang,
Old and ill, I lay here knowing that writing this note will be my last act upon this earth and that by the time you read it I will be gone from this life.
Though we have not seen each other in the many years since we studied together under our most venerable Master, I have often thought of you, his most worthy successor. Monks from throughout China say that you are a true lion of the Buddha Dharma; one whose eye is a shooting star, whose hands snatch lightning, and whose voice booms like thunder. It is said that your every action shakes heaven and earth and causes the elephants and dragons of delusion to scatter helplessly. I am told that your monastery is unrivaled in severity, and that under your exacting guidance hundreds of monks pursue their training with utmost zeal and vigor. I've also heard that in the enlightened successor department your luck has not been so good. Which brings me to the point of this letter.
I ask that you now draw your attention to the young man to whom this note is attached. As he stands before you, no doubt smiling stupidly as he stuffs himself with pickled cucumbers, you may be wondering if he is as complete a fool as he appears, and if so, what prompted me to send him to you. In answer to the first question, I assure you that Wu-Ming's foolishness is far more complete than mere appearance would lead you to believe. As for the second question, I can only say that despite so benumbed a condition, or perhaps because of it, still more likely, despite of and because of it, Wu-Ming seems to unwittingly and accidentally serve the function of a great Bodhisattva. Perhaps he can be of service to you.
Allow him sixteen hours of sleep daily and provide him with lots of pickled cucumbers and Wu-Ming will always be happy. Expect nothing of him and you will be happy.
Respectfully, Chin-Mang
After Chin-mang's funeral, the supporters of his temple arranged for Wu-Ming's journey to Han-hsin monastery, where I resided, then, as now, as Abbott. A monk found Wu-ming at the monastery gate and seeing a note bearing my name pinned to his robe, led him to my quarters.
Customarily, when first presenting himself to the Abbott, a newly arrived monk will prostrate himself three times and ask respectfully to be accepted as a student. And so I was taken somewhat by surprise when Wu-ming walked into the room, took a pickled cucumber from the jar under his arm, stuffed it whole into his mouth, and happily munching away, broke into the toothless imbecilic grin that would one day become legendary. Taking a casual glance around the room, he smacked his lips loudly and said, "What's for lunch?"
After reading dear old Chin Mang's note, I called in the head monk and asked that he show my new student to the monk's quarters. When they had gone I reflected on chin-mang's words. Han-hsin was indeed a most severe place of training: winters were bitterly cold and in summer the sun blazed. The monks slept no more than three hours each night and ate one simple meal each day. For the remainder of the day they worked hard around the monastery and practiced hard in the meditation hall. But, alas, Chin-mang had heard correctly, Among all my disciples there was none whom I felt confident to be a worthy vessel to receive the untransmittable transmitted Dharma. I was beginning to despair that I would one day, bereft of even one successor, fail to fulfill my obligation of seeing my teacher's Dharma-linage continued.
The monks could hardly be faulted for complacency or indolence. Their sincere aspiration and disciplined effort were admirable indeed, and many had attained great clarity of wisdom. But they were preoccupied with their capacity for harsh discipline and proud of their insight. They squabbled with one another for positions of prestige and power and vied amongst themselves for recognition. Jealousy, rivalry and ambition seemed to hang like a dark cloud over Han-shin monastery, sucking even the most wise and sincere into its obscuring haze. Holding Chin-mang's note before me, I hoped and prayed that this Wu-ming, this "accidental Bodhisattva" might be the yeast my recipe seemed so much in need of.
To my astonished pleasure, Wu-ming took to life at Han-shin like a duck to water. At my request, he was assigned a job in the kitchen pickling vegetables. This he pursued tirelessly, and with a cheerful earnestness he gathered and mixed ingredients, lifted heavy barrels, drew and carried water, and, of course, freely sampled his workmanship. He was delighted!
When the monks assembled in the meditation hall, they would invariably find Wu-ming seated in utter stillness, apparently in deep and profound samadhi. No one even guessed that the only thing profound about Wu-ming's meditation was the profound unlikelihood that he might find the meditation posture, legs folded into the lotus position, back erect and centered, to be so wonderfully conducive to the long hours of sleep he so enjoyed.
Day after day and month after month, as the monks struggled to meet the physical and spiritual demands of monastery life, Wu-ming, with a grin and a whistle, sailed through it all effortlessly. Even though, if the truth be told, Wu-ming's Zen practice was without the slightest merit, by way of outward appearance he was judged by all to be a monk of great accomplishment and perfect discipline. Of course . I could have dispelled this misconception easily enough, but I sensed that Wu-ming's unique brand of magic was taking effect and I was not about to throw away this most absurdly skillful of means.
By turns the monks were jealous, perplexed, hostile, humbled and inspired by what they presumed to be Wu-ming's great attainment. Of course it never occurred to Wu-ming that his or anyone else's behavior required such judgments, for they are the workings of a far more sophisticated nature than his own mind was capable. Indeed, everything about him was so obvious and simple that others thought him unfathomably subtle.
Wu-ming's inscrutable presence had a tremendously unsettling effect on the lives of the monks, and undercut the web of rationalizations that so often accompanies such upset. His utter obviousness rendered him unintelligible and immune to the social pretensions of others. Attempts of flattery and invectives alike were met with the same uncomprehending grin, a grin the monks felt to be the very cutting edge of the sword of Perfect Wisdom. Finding no relief or diversion in such interchange, they were forced to seek out the source and resolution of their anguish each within his own mind. More importantly, and absurdly, Wu-ming caused to arise in the monks the unconquerable determination to fully penetrate the teaching "The Great Way is without difficulty" which they felt he embodied.
Though in the course of my lifetime I have encountered many of the most venerable progenitors of the Tathagata's teaching, never have I met one so skilled at awakening others to their intrinsic Buddhahood as this wonderful fool Wu-ming. His spiritual non-sequiturs were as sparks, lighting the flame of illuminating wisdom in the minds of many who engaged him in dialogue.
Once a monk approached Wu-ming and asked in all earnestness, "In the whole universe, what is it that is most wonderful?" Without hesitation Wu-ming stuck a cucumber before the monks face and exclaimed, "There is nothing more wonderful than this!" At that the monk crashed through the dualism of subject and object, "The whole universe is pickled cucumber; a pickled cucumber is the whole universe!" Wu-ming simply chuckled and said, "Stop talking nonsense. A cucumber is a cucumber; the whole universe is the whole universe. What could be more obvious?" The monk, penetrating the perfect phenomenal manifestation of Absolute Truth, clapped his hands and laughed, saying, "Throughout infinite space, everything is deliciously sour!"
On another occasion a monk asked Wu-ming, "The Third Patriarch said, "The Great Way is without difficulty, just cease having preferences." How can you then delight in eating cucumbers, yet refuse to even take one bit of a carrot?" Wu-ming said, "I love cucumbers; I hate carrots!" The monk lurched back as though struck by a thunderbolt. Then laughing and sobbing and dancing about he exclaimed, "Liking cucumbers and hating carrots is without difficulty, just cease preferring the Great Way!"
Within three years of his arrival, the stories of the "Great Bodhisattva of Han-hsin monastery" had made their way throughout the provinces of China. Knowing of Wu-ming's fame I was not entirely surprised when a messenger from the Emperor appeared summoning Wu-ming to the Imperial Palace immediately.
From throughout the Empire exponents of the Three Teachings of Buddhism, Confucianism and Taoism were being called to the Capitol, there the Emperor would proclaim one to be the true religion to be practiced and preached in all lands under his rule. The idea of such competition for Imperial favor is not to my approval and the likelihood that a religious persecution might follow troubled me greatly. But an order from the Emperor is not to be ignored, so Wu-ming and I set out the next day.
Inside the Great Hall were gathered the more than one hundred priests and scholars who were to debate one another. They were surrounded by the most powerful lords in all China, along with innumerable advisors, of the Son of Heaven. All at once trumpets blared, cymbals crashed, and clouds of incense billowed up everywhere. The Emperor, borne on by a retinue of guards, was carried to the throne. After due formalities were observed the Emperor signaled for the debate to begin.
Several hours passed as one after another priests and scholars came forward presenting their doctrines and responding to questions. Through it all Wu-ming sat obliviously content as he stuffed himself with his favorite food. When his supply was finished, he happily crossed his legs, straightened his back and closed his eyes. But the noise and commotion were too great and, unable to sleep, he grew more restless and irritable by the minute. As I clasped him firmly by the back of the neck in an effort to restrain him, the Emperor gestured to Wu-ming to approach the Throne.
When Wu-ming had come before him, the Emperor said, "Throughout the land you are praised as a Bodhisattva whose mind is like the Great Void itself, yet you have not had a word to offer this assembly. Therefore I say to you now, teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow." Wu-ming said nothing. After a few moments the Emperor, with a note of impatience, spoke again, "Perhaps you do not hear well so I shall repeat myself! Teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow!" Still Wu-ming said nothing, and silence rippled through the crowd as all strained forward to witness this monk who dared behave so bold a fashion in the Emperor's presence.
Wu-ming heard nothing the Emperor said, nor did he notice the tension that vibrated through the hall. All that concerned him was his wish to find a nice quiet place where he could sleep undisturbed. The Emperor spoke again, his voice shaking with fury, his face flushed with anger: "You have been summoned to this council to speak on behalf of the Buddhist teaching. Your disrespect will not be tolerated much longer. I shall ask one more time, and should you fail to answer, I assure you the consequence shall be most grave. Teach me the True Way that all under heaven must follow!" Without a word Wu-ming turned and, as all looked on in dumbfounded silence, he made his way down the aisle and out the door. There was a hush of stunned disbelief before the crowd erupted into an uproar of confusion. Some were applauding Wu-ming's brilliant demonstration of religious insight, while others rushed about in an indignant rage, hurling threats and abuses at the doorway he had just passed through. Not knowing whether to praise Wu-ming or to have him beheaded, the Emperor turned to his advisors, but they were none the wiser. Finally, looking out at the frantic anarchy to which his grand debate had been reduced, the Emperor must surely have realized that no matter what Wu-ming's intentions might have been, there was now only one way to avoid the debate becoming a most serious embarrassment.
"The great sage of Han-hsin monastery has skillfully demonstrated that the great Tao cannot be confined by doctrines, but is best expounded through harmonious action. Let us profit by the wisdom he has so compassionately shared, and each endeavor to make our every step one that unites heaven and earth in accord with the profound and subtle Tao."
Having thus spoken the Son of Heaven concluded the Great Debate.
I immediately ran out to find Wu-ming, but he had disappeared in the crowded streets of the capitol.
Ten years have since passed, and I have seen nothing of him. However, on occasion a wandering monk will stop at Han-hsin with some bit of news. I am told that Wu-ming has been wandering about the countryside this past decade, trying unsuccessfully to find his way home. Because of his fame he is greeted and cared for in all quarters with generous kindness; however, those wishing to help him on his journey usually find that they have been helped on their own.
One young monk told of an encounter in which Wu-ming asked him, "Can you tell me where my home is?" Confused as to the spirit of the question. The monk replied, "Is the home you speak of to be found in the relative world of time and place, or do you mean the Original Home of all pervading Buddha nature?"
After pausing a moment to consider the question, Wu-ming looked up and, grinning as only he is capable, said, "Yes."
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Novice
In a time-honored story set in an ancient Himalayan kingdom, a novice monk was excited at the prospect of meeting his teacher for the first time. He was on fire with questions but sensed that this was not the time to ask them. Instead, he listened carefully to the teacher's instructions. They were brief and to the point. "Get up early tomorrow and climb to a cave you'll find at the top of this mountain. Sit from dawn to dusk and have no thoughts. Use any method you wish to banish thought. When the day is over, come and tell me how it went."
At dawn the next day the novice found the cave, made himself comfortable, and waited for his mind to settle. He thought that if he sat long enough it would become blank. Instead, his mind was crowded with thoughts. Soon he started to worry about failing the task he had been set. He tried to force the thoughts out of his mind, but that just produced more thoughts. He shouted at them to "Go away," but the words echoed noisily in the cave. He jumped up and down, held his breath, shook his head. Nothing seemed to work. He'd never known such a bombardment of thoughts in his life. At the end of the day he climbed back down, completely dispirited, wondering what his teacher's response would be. Perhaps he'd be dismissed as a failure, unsuitable for further training.
But the teacher just burst out laughing at the tale of his mental and physical gymnastics. "Very good ! You have tried really hard and done well. Tomorrow you should go back to the cave. Sit from dawn to dusk having nothing but thoughts. Think of anything you like all day long, but allow no gaps to occur between your thoughts." The novice was really pleased. This would be easy. He was bound to succeed. After all, "having thoughts" is what had been happening to him all day.
The next day saw him climbing with confidence up to his cave and taking his seat. After a little while he realized that all was not well. His thoughts started to slow down. Occasionally, a pleasant thought would come to mind and he would decide to follow it for a while. But soon it dried up. He tried to think grand thoughts, philosophical speculations, to worry about the state of the universe. Anything. He started to run low on things to think about and even got a little bored. Where had all his thinking gone ? Soon the "best" thoughts he could get seemed a little worn, like an old coat that had become threadbare. Then he noticed gaps in his thinking. Oh dear, this was what he had been told to avoid. Another failure. At the end of the day he felt pretty wretched. He'd failed again.
He climbed down the mountain and went to find his teacher, who burst out laughing again. "Congratulations ! Wonderful! Now you know how to practice perfectly." He didn't understand why the teacher was so pleased. What on earth had he learned ? The teacher was pleased because the novice was now ready to recognize something of real significance: You cannot force the mind . And if you try to , you won't like what comes of it.
At dawn the next day the novice found the cave, made himself comfortable, and waited for his mind to settle. He thought that if he sat long enough it would become blank. Instead, his mind was crowded with thoughts. Soon he started to worry about failing the task he had been set. He tried to force the thoughts out of his mind, but that just produced more thoughts. He shouted at them to "Go away," but the words echoed noisily in the cave. He jumped up and down, held his breath, shook his head. Nothing seemed to work. He'd never known such a bombardment of thoughts in his life. At the end of the day he climbed back down, completely dispirited, wondering what his teacher's response would be. Perhaps he'd be dismissed as a failure, unsuitable for further training.
But the teacher just burst out laughing at the tale of his mental and physical gymnastics. "Very good ! You have tried really hard and done well. Tomorrow you should go back to the cave. Sit from dawn to dusk having nothing but thoughts. Think of anything you like all day long, but allow no gaps to occur between your thoughts." The novice was really pleased. This would be easy. He was bound to succeed. After all, "having thoughts" is what had been happening to him all day.
The next day saw him climbing with confidence up to his cave and taking his seat. After a little while he realized that all was not well. His thoughts started to slow down. Occasionally, a pleasant thought would come to mind and he would decide to follow it for a while. But soon it dried up. He tried to think grand thoughts, philosophical speculations, to worry about the state of the universe. Anything. He started to run low on things to think about and even got a little bored. Where had all his thinking gone ? Soon the "best" thoughts he could get seemed a little worn, like an old coat that had become threadbare. Then he noticed gaps in his thinking. Oh dear, this was what he had been told to avoid. Another failure. At the end of the day he felt pretty wretched. He'd failed again.
He climbed down the mountain and went to find his teacher, who burst out laughing again. "Congratulations ! Wonderful! Now you know how to practice perfectly." He didn't understand why the teacher was so pleased. What on earth had he learned ? The teacher was pleased because the novice was now ready to recognize something of real significance: You cannot force the mind . And if you try to , you won't like what comes of it.
".... phal ki chinta mat karo"
For a long time, I had been perplexed with the saying from Gita: "Karm karo, phal ki chinta mat karo". I would interpret it as "do your work without worrying about the results". In this adage, I always laid more emphasis on the results part, i.e. how is it possible to work for something without having any desire for the results or how can one feel motivated enough to accomplish a task without desiring success.
Turns out that I had been laying emphasis on the wrong word, maybe. The word which should have got my focus was worrying. I now perhaps understand that Gita may not be telling to have ambivalent orientation towards success. Nor is it telling that results of one's efforts will be ordained by destiny or an omniscient God. It may be rather telling just not to worry excessively about how and why our efforts may end up as failure.
We can keep working with a problem-solving mindset and result-oriented approach. But once we have put in the efforts, we should let the results fructify in their natural course of time. We should not play in our mind the scenarios in which failure may ensue. We should not become impatient with the amount of time it takes for the outcome to show itself.
I guess that difference between focusing on worrying rather than results is subtle, but it does make quite a difference in the spirit with which we approach the teaching. Thinking that the results are pre-ordained can make us fatalists. But, knowing that worrying will not change the result after our efforts have been expended is a way to keeping our calm and peace intact while the outcomes play out within the visible and invisible rules of the game.
Any takers? :)
Update (20 Aug 2011):
My understanding of this phrase has probably further increased. Recently I realized that this teaching tells a person to not worry about successful result of their actions both before and after the action is done. My earlier understanding was focused on not worrying after action had been taken. Now I also appreciate that one must not inordinately delay an action worrying about whether success is achievable or not. If one keeps worrying that the task at hand is too big and that chances of success are dim, then the action will be delayed or may not happen at all. Hence, the action must be taken and one should not let worrying about attainability of result be a reason for procrastination or inaction.
Turns out that I had been laying emphasis on the wrong word, maybe. The word which should have got my focus was worrying. I now perhaps understand that Gita may not be telling to have ambivalent orientation towards success. Nor is it telling that results of one's efforts will be ordained by destiny or an omniscient God. It may be rather telling just not to worry excessively about how and why our efforts may end up as failure.
We can keep working with a problem-solving mindset and result-oriented approach. But once we have put in the efforts, we should let the results fructify in their natural course of time. We should not play in our mind the scenarios in which failure may ensue. We should not become impatient with the amount of time it takes for the outcome to show itself.
I guess that difference between focusing on worrying rather than results is subtle, but it does make quite a difference in the spirit with which we approach the teaching. Thinking that the results are pre-ordained can make us fatalists. But, knowing that worrying will not change the result after our efforts have been expended is a way to keeping our calm and peace intact while the outcomes play out within the visible and invisible rules of the game.
Any takers? :)
Update (20 Aug 2011):
My understanding of this phrase has probably further increased. Recently I realized that this teaching tells a person to not worry about successful result of their actions both before and after the action is done. My earlier understanding was focused on not worrying after action had been taken. Now I also appreciate that one must not inordinately delay an action worrying about whether success is achievable or not. If one keeps worrying that the task at hand is too big and that chances of success are dim, then the action will be delayed or may not happen at all. Hence, the action must be taken and one should not let worrying about attainability of result be a reason for procrastination or inaction.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
In the circus
There is a story in the Pali Canon about a father and daughter who performed in the circus. The father would place a very long bamboo stick on his forehead, and his daughter would climb to the top of the stick. When they did this, people gave them some money to buy rice and curry to eat.
One day the father told the daughter, 'My dear daughter, we have to take care of each other. You have to take care of your father, and I have to take care of you, so that we will be safe. Our performance is very dangerous.' Because if she fell, both would not be able to earn their living. If she fell, then broke her leg, they wouldn't have anything to eat. 'My daughter, we have to take care of each other so we can continue to earn our living.'
"The daugher was wise. She said, 'Father, you should say it this way:" Each of us has to take care of himself or herself, so that we can continue to earn our living." Because during the performance, you take care of yourself, you take care of yourself only. You stay very stable, very alert. That will help me And if when I climb I take care of myself, I climb very carefully, I do not let anything wrong happen to me. That is the way you should say it, Father. You take good care of yourself, and I take good care of myself. In that way we can continue to earn our living.'
The Buddha agreed that the daughter was right.
One day the father told the daughter, 'My dear daughter, we have to take care of each other. You have to take care of your father, and I have to take care of you, so that we will be safe. Our performance is very dangerous.' Because if she fell, both would not be able to earn their living. If she fell, then broke her leg, they wouldn't have anything to eat. 'My daughter, we have to take care of each other so we can continue to earn our living.'
"The daugher was wise. She said, 'Father, you should say it this way:" Each of us has to take care of himself or herself, so that we can continue to earn our living." Because during the performance, you take care of yourself, you take care of yourself only. You stay very stable, very alert. That will help me And if when I climb I take care of myself, I climb very carefully, I do not let anything wrong happen to me. That is the way you should say it, Father. You take good care of yourself, and I take good care of myself. In that way we can continue to earn our living.'
The Buddha agreed that the daughter was right.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening - Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Things I wanted to do in my life
Things I wanted to do in my life but couldn't get around to doing due to various external and internal factors. Internal ones are the usual suspects - lack of committement, time mismanagement, procrastination, day dreaming, running after wrong things for wrong reasons for criminally wrong amount of time. External factors - well..... that is another story which I should let be unformed and unsaid.
So, here goes the list:
So, here goes the list:
- Get a Bachelors / Masters degree in Computer Science (I will rue this my whole life)
- Enjoy my B. Tech. life with wanton abandon (external factors, you owe me this in next life)
- Go infinitely more trekking in Bangalore and from Mumbai
- Play decent cricket (I am supposedly an Indian male but my passport could be taken away for writing this)
- Swimming
- Play basketball / volleyball / football on regular basis
- Get at least medium level belt in any form of martial arts
- Play at least one music instrument - guitar, keyboard, drums are top 3 choice
- Learn dancing formally
- Learn one foreign language (German, French) and one Indian language (Sanskrit, Tamil, Kannada) with fluency in speaking
- Euro-trip
- Took up some post of responsibility in Cultural Activities at college level
- Gymnastics / skate-boarding / roller-skating / skiing
- Learn astronomy / astrophysics
- Go camping / spelunking / rappelling / rock climbing / long distance running / cycling
- Learn Perl, Python kung-fu :D
- Have one major literary skill in which I am quite good (writing stories, poems, comics, drawing caricatures / sketching)
- Fly an aircraft (Dad, I owe you this one)
- Learn palmistry
- Adorn funky hair-styles (missed this by a long margin :D ) and facial hair while I still had the chance
Monday, May 10, 2010
Neo and Morpheus
When Morpheus read my "Migration" post, he responded thus --
(@ Morpheus: I am reproducing it without your permission. I know you will be cool with it. :))
".... do you want to take a call on neo & morpheus? delete it? keep it as it is with no more adds while you
branch out elsewhere? you take over - del my posts - or something?...."
No way dude! Neo is not abandoing this platform. Just having a personal project on the side.
As I look back, I and Morpheus have been on this platform together for last 6 years now. While we may have met only 2 times in these years, this blog has been alive and kicking when any of us have felt the itch to let our thoughts flow freely hunched over a keyboard on a dark, breezy night with a table-light casting our silhouettes on the wall. Our varied friend circle has brought diverse readers from all over the world. Morpehus gave us this look-n-feel, the 'i' in the 'morphius' and a rocking 'About-Us'. I chipped in with creating a home page for us and the Google Analytics code snippet added.
An interesting data which the Google Analytics throws up is that the most read page of our blog is Greenland bigger than Africa? It still remains our most popular 'hit'. I guess, out there, in Australia, Europe and North America, they give lot of Geography assignments. Every now and then a Google Search lands on our page. So, a big Hi to you if you are coming here wondering why the Mercator Projection creates this distortion!
6 years is a long time to keep the collaboration going and be blogging regularly. Morpheus, we have to go an and hit a 10-er here! We are going to make dent in the universe. :D
(@ Morpheus: I am reproducing it without your permission. I know you will be cool with it. :))
".... do you want to take a call on neo & morpheus? delete it? keep it as it is with no more adds while you
branch out elsewhere? you take over - del my posts - or something?...."
No way dude! Neo is not abandoing this platform. Just having a personal project on the side.
As I look back, I and Morpheus have been on this platform together for last 6 years now. While we may have met only 2 times in these years, this blog has been alive and kicking when any of us have felt the itch to let our thoughts flow freely hunched over a keyboard on a dark, breezy night with a table-light casting our silhouettes on the wall. Our varied friend circle has brought diverse readers from all over the world. Morpehus gave us this look-n-feel, the 'i' in the 'morphius' and a rocking 'About-Us'. I chipped in with creating a home page for us and the Google Analytics code snippet added.
An interesting data which the Google Analytics throws up is that the most read page of our blog is Greenland bigger than Africa? It still remains our most popular 'hit'. I guess, out there, in Australia, Europe and North America, they give lot of Geography assignments. Every now and then a Google Search lands on our page. So, a big Hi to you if you are coming here wondering why the Mercator Projection creates this distortion!
6 years is a long time to keep the collaboration going and be blogging regularly. Morpheus, we have to go an and hit a 10-er here! We are going to make dent in the universe. :D
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
I, Idiot
Its the season of being Idiot with a capital 'I'. I, Idiot!
3 Idiots couldn't have had a better timing. A very depressing depression (esp for financial sector) had been going on for long enough time to make fresh graduates 'think' whether they actually want to be in the jobs they had chosen on campus. Stagnant salaries, downsizing, not much work on plate and a tendency to plan the future to a 'T' -- they all go well together as ingredients while brewing the chicken soup for soul.
Mr. Chanchad seems to have found the path to true calling. Have a B+ve attitude and top it up with the search for excellence. Success (he doesn't say Success = Money) will be sure to follow.
Well, obviously, Mr. Chanchad, or rather his real life embodiment Mr. Aamir Khan, would not want the audience to copy them in their acts entirely. It is be assumed, perhaps, that the audience will take away an inspiration message which must be applied within the "practical" realities of the existing education and corporate environment around us.
e.g. Its possible to drop a particular line of professional study and then take up a more natural talent oriented career calling. (That too, till a certain age. Want to become a professional gymnast at the age of 30? Go figure!)
Its, however, nearly impossible to do the other way round. Why are we not shown example of people where their parents forced one to become a cricketer and at the age of 25+ the individual realizes that he actually wanted to be an accountant. Will he be able to make up for the lost academic years and get an entry into the domain competing against freshers? Ditto for trying to change career streams. What if an investment banker wants to switch to software product management? (ssshhhhh... no cat-calls :D) Will he get a chance / shot at that? A start-up will not hire him as we will be a liability more than an asset for that new role. A established firm will not hire him, maybe, because the person is so experienced already that they do not believe he should be actually making such a move. And he cannot start a practice of his own as he doesn't know the industry standards and has no industry contacts / clients which can bring him business.
So, take away #1 ---> If you are going to have that elusive moment of heavens parting, inner voice being heard and true calling in life identified, please do that while you still can 'practically' follow up on that life changing path. Your kid's education, your house's EMI and your parents' medical bills should not get affected because you were caught napping all through your teen and twenties.
Another observation. When the movie became a phenomenon, many of my MBA friends started displaying "give me some sunshine, give me some rain..." song in their status messages across GTalk, Facebook, Orkut, Twitter. These MBA friends are all having just max 2 years of post-MBA work experience. However, I never noticed a single such status message from my friends from Engineering who had continued being an engineer and are now 6-7 years or experienced in their domain.
So, takeaway #2 ---> If that song is going to become your anthem strong enough for you to act upon it, it will happen only within a few years of one joining a particular career line. After 3-4 years have passed, one of the following would have happened:
a) You have become comfortably numb
b) You have become comfortably dumb; dumb enough to start liking your comfort zone and thus your job. And now you give universal gyaan like "as all job profiles become boring after some time, why change the current one?"
c) Your kid, your house, your parents mentioned above have become the deciding factor
As must be apparent, my takeaways are a reflection of my own personal situation and in no way general. Please add your takeaways pertinent to your situation in the comments.
3 Idiots couldn't have had a better timing. A very depressing depression (esp for financial sector) had been going on for long enough time to make fresh graduates 'think' whether they actually want to be in the jobs they had chosen on campus. Stagnant salaries, downsizing, not much work on plate and a tendency to plan the future to a 'T' -- they all go well together as ingredients while brewing the chicken soup for soul.
Mr. Chanchad seems to have found the path to true calling. Have a B+ve attitude and top it up with the search for excellence. Success (he doesn't say Success = Money) will be sure to follow.
Well, obviously, Mr. Chanchad, or rather his real life embodiment Mr. Aamir Khan, would not want the audience to copy them in their acts entirely. It is be assumed, perhaps, that the audience will take away an inspiration message which must be applied within the "practical" realities of the existing education and corporate environment around us.
e.g. Its possible to drop a particular line of professional study and then take up a more natural talent oriented career calling. (That too, till a certain age. Want to become a professional gymnast at the age of 30? Go figure!)
Its, however, nearly impossible to do the other way round. Why are we not shown example of people where their parents forced one to become a cricketer and at the age of 25+ the individual realizes that he actually wanted to be an accountant. Will he be able to make up for the lost academic years and get an entry into the domain competing against freshers? Ditto for trying to change career streams. What if an investment banker wants to switch to software product management? (ssshhhhh... no cat-calls :D) Will he get a chance / shot at that? A start-up will not hire him as we will be a liability more than an asset for that new role. A established firm will not hire him, maybe, because the person is so experienced already that they do not believe he should be actually making such a move. And he cannot start a practice of his own as he doesn't know the industry standards and has no industry contacts / clients which can bring him business.
So, take away #1 ---> If you are going to have that elusive moment of heavens parting, inner voice being heard and true calling in life identified, please do that while you still can 'practically' follow up on that life changing path. Your kid's education, your house's EMI and your parents' medical bills should not get affected because you were caught napping all through your teen and twenties.
Another observation. When the movie became a phenomenon, many of my MBA friends started displaying "give me some sunshine, give me some rain..." song in their status messages across GTalk, Facebook, Orkut, Twitter. These MBA friends are all having just max 2 years of post-MBA work experience. However, I never noticed a single such status message from my friends from Engineering who had continued being an engineer and are now 6-7 years or experienced in their domain.
So, takeaway #2 ---> If that song is going to become your anthem strong enough for you to act upon it, it will happen only within a few years of one joining a particular career line. After 3-4 years have passed, one of the following would have happened:
a) You have become comfortably numb
b) You have become comfortably dumb; dumb enough to start liking your comfort zone and thus your job. And now you give universal gyaan like "as all job profiles become boring after some time, why change the current one?"
c) Your kid, your house, your parents mentioned above have become the deciding factor
As must be apparent, my takeaways are a reflection of my own personal situation and in no way general. Please add your takeaways pertinent to your situation in the comments.
Monday, June 15, 2009
"Teri Deewani"
The song "Teri Deewani" was a chart-buster. It was a definite heart-buster for me. First time I heard it along with viewing the music video, I was sold.
Umpteen loopings of the song on Winamp later, a peculiarity of the lyrics became apparent to me. The song is sung by a male singer but the lyrics are in a feminine voice. As if a female is meant to sing this song but is being sung by a male.
The song defnitely had a sufi influence. I vaguely remembered hearing more sufi songs which had distinct feminine voice but were sung in male voice. I explored this connection more.
Here is what I found. Quite interesting.
Feels great to just listen to a song and then discover this. :)
Monday, May 25, 2009
Fight The Future
Some months ago, I watched a spate of time travel movies - "Timecrimes", "Primer", "12 Monkeys", "Donnie Darko". All had complex plot lines. None had the feel-good factor characteristic of such time travel movies as "Back to the Future" series.
A peculiar aspect of the screenplay of some these movies has grown upon me. In all these movies, the lead actors travel in time and interact with their own self. However, this interaction is at best of guarded caution while at its worst it can be downright malevolent. Their own self is their enemy.
An example of extreme worst case scenario comes from a movie belonging to a different genre. "The Prestige" has Hugh Jackman's character killing his own clones. I am still undecided which one of the clones would carry the feelings of the original Jackman and which one would be surprised to stare it his carbon / original copy getting ready to kill him. My thoughts start going on a tangent here - what does "self" mean, can memories be transplanted, can "self" exist outside body, can you harm your clone, etc.
I will explore that tangent some other time. Returning to the already mentioned theme of facing-off with own's self, a story idea has been taking shape in my mind. I will like to either write this story myself or experience it in any form of idea is someone has already taken a shot at it.
The idea goes like this. Tom, aged nearly 35, chances to experience time travel into past. He travels about 18 years back into time. Once there, he goes off to find his 17 year old self. Let me call Tom aged 35 as T35 and Tom aged 18 as T18. [Maybe this nomenclature is inspired by the upcoming "Terminator Salvation" movie and promise of the revival of Terminator series]
T18 is a brilliant kid. He is a geek, he understands time travel. He even dreams of experiencing it for himself in future. When T35 finds T18, the kid is not in for any massive shock. T18 is surprised but nothing more. T35 is thrilled to see his younger self. Together they hang around. T35 describes how things have shaped up in his life. The story of T18's future.
Here is the catch. The more T18 gets to know how the life turned out for T35, the more he gets uneasy. T35 appears a big time loser and all messed up to him. T35 has been shunned in his social circle, he is an outcast. T35 thinks that if no one else than at least T18 would be able to understand why things turned up that way. But he finds that T18 is not only aghast at T35's state, but is almost disowning his future self. T18 does not want to have anything to do with T35. He wants him to leave. He wants himself to leave.
That is the basic premise of the story idea. It will be interesting to witness the interaction with the same character's young and adult self. The young version -- all bubbly, positive, ambitious, raring to go. The adult version -- beaten blue and black, listless, defeated, out of spirit, out of luck. How will the young version deal with the apparent failure awaiting in his future and that failure personified in his future self? What will happen to T35 if the only person he had counted on to understand / empathize with him turned out to be the most disgusted after listening to his story?
One line summary of the above rant -- what if you went back in time and your younger self even refuses to recognizes you, feels disgusted at you? How did your life turn that way anyway?
A peculiar aspect of the screenplay of some these movies has grown upon me. In all these movies, the lead actors travel in time and interact with their own self. However, this interaction is at best of guarded caution while at its worst it can be downright malevolent. Their own self is their enemy.
An example of extreme worst case scenario comes from a movie belonging to a different genre. "The Prestige" has Hugh Jackman's character killing his own clones. I am still undecided which one of the clones would carry the feelings of the original Jackman and which one would be surprised to stare it his carbon / original copy getting ready to kill him. My thoughts start going on a tangent here - what does "self" mean, can memories be transplanted, can "self" exist outside body, can you harm your clone, etc.
I will explore that tangent some other time. Returning to the already mentioned theme of facing-off with own's self, a story idea has been taking shape in my mind. I will like to either write this story myself or experience it in any form of idea is someone has already taken a shot at it.
The idea goes like this. Tom, aged nearly 35, chances to experience time travel into past. He travels about 18 years back into time. Once there, he goes off to find his 17 year old self. Let me call Tom aged 35 as T35 and Tom aged 18 as T18. [Maybe this nomenclature is inspired by the upcoming "Terminator Salvation" movie and promise of the revival of Terminator series]
T18 is a brilliant kid. He is a geek, he understands time travel. He even dreams of experiencing it for himself in future. When T35 finds T18, the kid is not in for any massive shock. T18 is surprised but nothing more. T35 is thrilled to see his younger self. Together they hang around. T35 describes how things have shaped up in his life. The story of T18's future.
Here is the catch. The more T18 gets to know how the life turned out for T35, the more he gets uneasy. T35 appears a big time loser and all messed up to him. T35 has been shunned in his social circle, he is an outcast. T35 thinks that if no one else than at least T18 would be able to understand why things turned up that way. But he finds that T18 is not only aghast at T35's state, but is almost disowning his future self. T18 does not want to have anything to do with T35. He wants him to leave. He wants himself to leave.
That is the basic premise of the story idea. It will be interesting to witness the interaction with the same character's young and adult self. The young version -- all bubbly, positive, ambitious, raring to go. The adult version -- beaten blue and black, listless, defeated, out of spirit, out of luck. How will the young version deal with the apparent failure awaiting in his future and that failure personified in his future self? What will happen to T35 if the only person he had counted on to understand / empathize with him turned out to be the most disgusted after listening to his story?
One line summary of the above rant -- what if you went back in time and your younger self even refuses to recognizes you, feels disgusted at you? How did your life turn that way anyway?
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Shaken, not just stirred
The terror attack which took Mumbai hostage for around 60 hrs has left me shaken; and not just stirred, as I usually had been on getting reports of bomb blasts in various Indian cities throughout 2008. Maybe some part of that can be attributed to my proximity to the incident which exacerbated my reaction. But, for the other parts, I am trying to find a reasons. And these reasons are perhaps only mine, and may well not be a representation of general populace.
I have become used to hearing about coordinated bomb blasts as a form of terrorism. (Well, that raises a question, what state of antipathy and resignation do I live in if I have become accustomed to such dastardly acts involving loss of human life?) Such events happen in a small span of time. They do leave behind a trail of blood and human tragedy, but they get over quickly. The particular city rebounds. On-lookers come on to see what is happening, maybe even lend a helping hand or two. Statesmen make flash visits to the site and then to the hospitals. Self-claimed strategic experts speak eloquently in media on what can be done to spruce up our intelligence agencies.
This attack was not like the above. It had a face. It was mobile. It was dynamic. It stretched to hours. It took hostages. It was both proactive as well as reactive. It was unpredictable. It targeted places of symbolic significance.
When I first heard of firings and news reports at around 2230 hrs on 26th Nov, somewhere I had the assurance that this is Mumbai and the matter will be swiftly dealt with. After all, how bad can firing incidents get? And this city has probably the best police force in entire nation. It was this last fact, which was soon going to be turned on its head.
The news channels flashed the image of ATS Chief Hemant Karkare donning his head gear and bulletproof vest to get going in the action. "ATS Chief has arrived, now it is just matter of few hours." Those were my thoughts. But after 2 hrs., the same channels reported that he was KIA. And not just him, in quick succession two other senior and star officers of Mumbai Police were reported KIA. It was then that I was hit hard, and a sense of terror engulfed me. They got 3 senior officials, and the situation is nowhere under control? Maybe it was the same time that Maharashtra Chief Minister and Indian Home Minister too realized that they are up against something they can't control through normal measures. Maybe it was then that someone who had to decide finally decided that NSG, along with whatever immediate support could be available (MarCos and Army Commandos), needed to be sent in. That span of 10 min. was when the gravity of this incident sunk into me.
To add to the terror then were the images of terrorists roaming in South Mumbai streets in a hijacked Police van! They drove close past a group of unsuspecting journalists and opened fire. The fact of loss of top police officers had unsettled me, and then it seemed as if the terrorists had taken control of police infrastructure itself.
It was a long night which followed. Some more damage was still left to be done. That came with the images of Taj Hotel heritage wing burning against the black, night sky. I have stayed there twice - once for AVB Scholarship interviews and then for some function related to my TAS summer internship. I have seen this as a symbol in umpteen number of movies and footages which revere Mumbai as "the city of dreams" and "the Maximum City". The shock of such an unimaginable thing actually happening was huge, and personal.
In the two days which followed, I kept hearing personal trauma stories. My friend's colleague's fiancé (marriage due next month) got shot. MD of my firm lives in NCPA building, right next to Oberoi, and he was sending mails that he can hear the sound of firing and grenade explosion and "it is really, really scary". Later, NSG commandos actually took position in NCPA to launch counter-strike. CEO of my roommate's firm walked in between bullet spray in Taj because he believed "his time was not yet up" and miraculously escaped when others around him got shot. A batch-mate was at Leopold when firings started and he saw two of his friends getting shot; one getting a fatal head shot, other getting a leg shot. At least two batch-mates reported remaining holed up in their office the entire night as their office are next to Oberoi and they hadn't left when the firings started. An IIMA professor was stuck inside Oberoi and he was rescued after 24 hrs. A friend's firm's chairman got killed in Oberoi. A friend stays close to Nariman House and was posting his own pics of the operations on Orkut.
These are personal stories. Not like hearing, xx no. of casualties in the current bomb-blast. Maybe, I as a member of particular social class normally doesn’t get affected by these incidents. However, this time, the target was this very social class. Somewhere in my social circle, somebody was affected.
My personal face-off with the terror occurred when a rumor of fresh firings spread at CST spread on 28th noon. News traveled fast. My house faces a main, busy street. People started running in opposite direction to that of VT. Shops started pulling down their shutters. Vehicles made U-turns in the middle of the road. The lane going towards CST became empty. Then, the vehicles started using both the lanes to rush in opposite direction to CST. It was chaos and panic. It was terror. It reminded me eerily of the Joker in Dark Knight. Look what these guys did to a city with some rounds of ammunition and meticulous planning. They got to the police, they got to a symbolic landmark and they got to business elite. When this happens, no one feels safe. If the top of the social pyramid can be taken hostage, the base of the pyramid has no clue about their safety.
This time, I was shaken, not just stirred.
I have become used to hearing about coordinated bomb blasts as a form of terrorism. (Well, that raises a question, what state of antipathy and resignation do I live in if I have become accustomed to such dastardly acts involving loss of human life?) Such events happen in a small span of time. They do leave behind a trail of blood and human tragedy, but they get over quickly. The particular city rebounds. On-lookers come on to see what is happening, maybe even lend a helping hand or two. Statesmen make flash visits to the site and then to the hospitals. Self-claimed strategic experts speak eloquently in media on what can be done to spruce up our intelligence agencies.
This attack was not like the above. It had a face. It was mobile. It was dynamic. It stretched to hours. It took hostages. It was both proactive as well as reactive. It was unpredictable. It targeted places of symbolic significance.
When I first heard of firings and news reports at around 2230 hrs on 26th Nov, somewhere I had the assurance that this is Mumbai and the matter will be swiftly dealt with. After all, how bad can firing incidents get? And this city has probably the best police force in entire nation. It was this last fact, which was soon going to be turned on its head.
The news channels flashed the image of ATS Chief Hemant Karkare donning his head gear and bulletproof vest to get going in the action. "ATS Chief has arrived, now it is just matter of few hours." Those were my thoughts. But after 2 hrs., the same channels reported that he was KIA. And not just him, in quick succession two other senior and star officers of Mumbai Police were reported KIA. It was then that I was hit hard, and a sense of terror engulfed me. They got 3 senior officials, and the situation is nowhere under control? Maybe it was the same time that Maharashtra Chief Minister and Indian Home Minister too realized that they are up against something they can't control through normal measures. Maybe it was then that someone who had to decide finally decided that NSG, along with whatever immediate support could be available (MarCos and Army Commandos), needed to be sent in. That span of 10 min. was when the gravity of this incident sunk into me.
To add to the terror then were the images of terrorists roaming in South Mumbai streets in a hijacked Police van! They drove close past a group of unsuspecting journalists and opened fire. The fact of loss of top police officers had unsettled me, and then it seemed as if the terrorists had taken control of police infrastructure itself.
It was a long night which followed. Some more damage was still left to be done. That came with the images of Taj Hotel heritage wing burning against the black, night sky. I have stayed there twice - once for AVB Scholarship interviews and then for some function related to my TAS summer internship. I have seen this as a symbol in umpteen number of movies and footages which revere Mumbai as "the city of dreams" and "the Maximum City". The shock of such an unimaginable thing actually happening was huge, and personal.
In the two days which followed, I kept hearing personal trauma stories. My friend's colleague's fiancé (marriage due next month) got shot. MD of my firm lives in NCPA building, right next to Oberoi, and he was sending mails that he can hear the sound of firing and grenade explosion and "it is really, really scary". Later, NSG commandos actually took position in NCPA to launch counter-strike. CEO of my roommate's firm walked in between bullet spray in Taj because he believed "his time was not yet up" and miraculously escaped when others around him got shot. A batch-mate was at Leopold when firings started and he saw two of his friends getting shot; one getting a fatal head shot, other getting a leg shot. At least two batch-mates reported remaining holed up in their office the entire night as their office are next to Oberoi and they hadn't left when the firings started. An IIMA professor was stuck inside Oberoi and he was rescued after 24 hrs. A friend's firm's chairman got killed in Oberoi. A friend stays close to Nariman House and was posting his own pics of the operations on Orkut.
These are personal stories. Not like hearing, xx no. of casualties in the current bomb-blast. Maybe, I as a member of particular social class normally doesn’t get affected by these incidents. However, this time, the target was this very social class. Somewhere in my social circle, somebody was affected.
My personal face-off with the terror occurred when a rumor of fresh firings spread at CST spread on 28th noon. News traveled fast. My house faces a main, busy street. People started running in opposite direction to that of VT. Shops started pulling down their shutters. Vehicles made U-turns in the middle of the road. The lane going towards CST became empty. Then, the vehicles started using both the lanes to rush in opposite direction to CST. It was chaos and panic. It was terror. It reminded me eerily of the Joker in Dark Knight. Look what these guys did to a city with some rounds of ammunition and meticulous planning. They got to the police, they got to a symbolic landmark and they got to business elite. When this happens, no one feels safe. If the top of the social pyramid can be taken hostage, the base of the pyramid has no clue about their safety.
This time, I was shaken, not just stirred.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
What is the takeaway?
This may strike a chord with few of my friends who are voracious devourers of "information" off various media, prominent being the Web.
As a testimony to my eclectic nature, perhaps, I find almost any topic under the sun to arise my curiosity. It inevitably results in long hours spent scanning the sources of info, again primarily the web. The hyperlinks on web pages lead to a drilled down exploration of the subject matter. However, more often than not, the drilling is more sideways than vertical. That is to say, the links to some other allied topic. Few such lateral moves, and I may be reading something quite far removed from where I started. It gives a joy of exploration. On a sarcastic note, some may even call it a manifestation of Attention-deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).
The problem I am increasingly facing is that of lack of retention of information I gained after spending valuable time in the exploration activity. As the subject matters get diverse, the attention gets spread too thin. The context switch from one topic to another gives thrill in the moment of exploration. But when asked later, maybe just after some hours, to give a brief on what was the takeaway on a particular topic, the brain just skips a beat (or a neuron synapse, to be more correct). It becomes tough to recall what was read. Sometimes, absolute zero looms on the mental projection screen.
This leads to some really frustrating moments. With limited time at disposal to pursue various activities in life (for professional development, personal enrichment or entertainment purposes), it appears that the time spent on the knowledge hunt went a complete waste. Once the moment of discovery of some new fact or information has passed, it is important that the piece of information to be parked somewhere in the memory. It should allow itself to be easily referenced, accessed and retrieved when the need arises.
What is the solution?
An easy one which comes to mind is to assess whether memory retentivity has reduced. It is a scary thought in itself. However, it may very well be possible if the brain is not getting enough "jog" in the daily routine. If one is only devouring info but not explicitly "thinking" about it, brain's memory creating abilities through techniques of "association" and "repetition" do not come into play. On a more general level, if one is not getting to solve couple of puzzles / riddles here and there, not doing quick numeric calculations once in a while, or just not getting exposed to quick witty humor, the brain's overall ability to fire cylinders when required may get reduced. Physical exercise plays as another important factor. A lazy body cannot host an active brain.
The difficult solutions to arrive at are related to changes in habit of such knowledge exploration, limiting exposure to a select set of subject matters or arriving at superior indexing mechanism. Let me take them up one at a time.
Knowledge exploration habit, like any other habit, may be quite difficult to change. It is the urge to explore the unknown which drives one to surf through the endless hyperlinks. The solution may lie not in curtailing the habit but actually taking it one step forward. One can try to write a short note, or just simply recall, on some of the topics he/she read during the course of the day. Forcing oneself to remember the subject matter may enhance the memory of it. Brain does not like gaps in info. It will quickly figure out that if only few disassociated scraps of subject matter are recallable, there must exist missing links. If the source material is ready at hand, one can then quickly glance through and fix the cracks. If the research done on the topic was exhaustive, writing a note summarizing the flow of ideas will be the best way to go about. This also provides a quick personal reference guide when one needs to access that information.
Limiting exposure to select of subjects is again about restraining one's habit. This appears to be a more difficult solution than the first one, depending on the extent of eclectic nature. Moreover, this problem is fluid rather than being static. The topics of preference change over time with new experiences, times and even with mood swings. How does one limit to a select set of subject matters is a difficult one to answer.
A superior indexing mechanism seems to be a clever idea. It does not demand curtailing habits of knowledge exploration and preserve the joy of the act. One scheme can be to use browser bookmarks extensively. You are outsourcing the brain's job to the software. Now, you have to just remember that you filed a particular piece of info for ready reference in a fixed location. If the browser provides for a superior bookmarking features (categories, folder structure, cloud view etc.), the source matter can be quickly accessed.
The clever solution (which does not appear so clever anymore now), will work if one is always connected to the Web whenever the need for such a info arises. It does not work in most practical situations. Especially when one is looking at using the info gathered in business situations and want the anecdotes / figures / facts to come out spontaneously and aid in business discussions. Now, this is what they call getting a bang for your buck. The buck here is the precious commodity "time" spent in consuming information. The bang is the timely and rightful use of it.
We tend to read X no. of blogs, Y no. of new sources, Z no. of dedicated magazines. We live in a connected world. Information explodes around us. Companies like Google realize that just making all this information easily searchable is a big money spinning business. Still, Google's help is only a reactive mechanism. You have to search for information when you require it. Any proactive mechanism ultimately has to reside in the brain itself. Proactive mechanism has to make use of the information already consumed and not start afresh in the hunt for it.
And that is the unsettling question which the post is asking. What is the takeaway? Or rather, how to ensure that you have a useful takeaway which can be taken out of brain when it is required? Those who have faced or are facing this predicament, do post your thoughts and discuss any solutions which come to your mind. That should be a good takeaway to have, once some useful ideas are here.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Hiatus A Deux
It has been a very long hiatus on this space for both me and Morpheus. The last post was published some 8 months ago. First quarter of 2008 saw me going through the rigmarole of campus placements. Once that long drawn process reached its happy conclusion, I headed to Himalayas (literally) to cool off. On my return, a beaming Neo walked the dais to get awarded with PGDM honor. Sweat and blood! What followed was a long due long break at home. It was after 5 years that I was getting to stay for an extended period of time in home town and with family. As May ended, I packed my bags to touchdown at Mumbai. The new home. Past 3 months have been a mix of trials & tribulations and survivals & jubilations. House hunt in Mumbai is a perspiring (humid hot) and jaw-dropping (astronomical real estate prices) experience. And the second go at corporate world is very much different from the previous one. That deserves a long post in itself. I am holding on that post till I have seen enough to make any justifiable comparisons.
All these and some more have kept me busy over the last 8 months. Too busy to return to the blog. Time to find my voice again. Time to make this blog alive again. But, where is Morpheus?
All these and some more have kept me busy over the last 8 months. Too busy to return to the blog. Time to find my voice again. Time to make this blog alive again. But, where is Morpheus?
Monday, December 17, 2007
Commencement Speeches
Many of us would have watched and/or read Steve Job's "Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish" Stanford 2006 Commencement speech. The speech stirs up a new vigor and determination each time one reads it. I came across this site which lists some of the best Commencement speeches delivered at various US universities in recent times. They make a good read, especially when one is felling lazy and direction less.
While most of these speeches are generalist in nature, I found the recent talk delivered by Joel Spolsky at Yale Computer Science department quite engrossing because mixes very well the specificities of earning a Computer Science degree with the generalities of software profession. My own graduation day is just 3 months away. I wish that someone could deliver a similar speech pertinent to MBA context on that occasion. There is still a lot I don't understand about how my professional and personal life will shape up as a result of my undergoing this curriculum. Need some honest soul to cut to the chase.
While most of these speeches are generalist in nature, I found the recent talk delivered by Joel Spolsky at Yale Computer Science department quite engrossing because mixes very well the specificities of earning a Computer Science degree with the generalities of software profession. My own graduation day is just 3 months away. I wish that someone could deliver a similar speech pertinent to MBA context on that occasion. There is still a lot I don't understand about how my professional and personal life will shape up as a result of my undergoing this curriculum. Need some honest soul to cut to the chase.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
ERI
When one of my friends returned after spending a 5-day session at a village in Gujarat for a course called "Exploring Roles and Idenity", it was time to reverse the gyan flow for some time. The course is said to reveal profound insights about one's own self. I was eager to know some generic outcomes of the group discussions which took there. This is one of the revelations which hit my friend hard. And sure, it hit me hard as well when he described the same.
In his own words, "The unique thing about this world is that you will always find someone who is better at an activity you thought you are pretty good at. And this is not restricted to mainstream activities like academic performance or career achievements. I am also talking about trivial things. Like, some trick of hand, a particular bicycle stunt, a balancing act, anything. Why, even the most absurd of Guiness records are broken by somebody at some point. You would have never thought somebody would care to master that obscure a feat. But people do."
Just to show an example on a funny note
In his own words, "The unique thing about this world is that you will always find someone who is better at an activity you thought you are pretty good at. And this is not restricted to mainstream activities like academic performance or career achievements. I am also talking about trivial things. Like, some trick of hand, a particular bicycle stunt, a balancing act, anything. Why, even the most absurd of Guiness records are broken by somebody at some point. You would have never thought somebody would care to master that obscure a feat. But people do."
Just to show an example on a funny note
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Surprise!
I am lucky to have access to a grand library. IIMA’s library boasts of a collection of more than 150,000 books. For a bibliophile, a well-organized library can probably mean no less than a temple. I am not a 5-star bibliophile. Yet, when my peers throng the discotheques or find a new restaurant to relish fine tastes for their pallet on a Saturday evening, I prefer to be on my own roaming between the tall aisles of the book stacks in the library. I can sense ‘a smell of the books’. An overwhelming feeling fills me at such a time – there is so much to read and so little time. A chastising voice from inside reminds me of the unfinished books I have as backlog. The MBA programme introduced me to book genres which earlier had not come to my attention. These combined with all the earlier genres I have been following now pose the problem of choice. Instead of picking up new books to read, I just read the titles printed in bold letters across the side of the book. It has become a dare to take out just one book from such a huge collection and not let my attention get diverted to another book with an equally promising title. Gradually, I had stopped finding books. The surprise came when instead the book found me! On one of the excursions among the many I took into the library, I chanced upon a book which looked conspicuously apart from its neighbors. The ‘uniqueness’ might have been in the title as well as the cover art, I am not sure what. The subject matter just kept me hanging on as I read through the initial few pages. The reviews available on Internet confirmed that the book was a definitive work of the genre it was part of. I immediately got the book issued. A few happy reading hours after, I had added a new book genre to my kitty. It would be more difficult now to make my choices between the books, but I was not complaining. And as if to prove that this may be the only way for me to pick up new books, similar incident happened again after a month. Another random book picked and fallen in love with. How I wish that same luck would play in meeting people! Next time you do not find me answering my phone, you know which alleys I am wandering through. Some book out there is waiting for me to find it!
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