PhilosophyArchive for the Category

Half Truths.

Friday, August 27th, 2010

I hope that you enjoy reading another post of the Friday Loose Bloggers’ Consortium when eleven of us post on the same topic chosen by one of us. Today’s topic has been chosen by Conrad.

Please do visit Ashok, Conrad, Grannymar, Magpie11, Maria, Gaelikaa, Helen, Judy, Anu and Ginger to see ten other views on the same topic. Some of these bloggers may be preoccupied with vacations, examinations, family problems and/or romance, so be a little indulgent in case they do not post or post late.

What is a lie, what is truth and what is a half truth? Humanity has struggled with these questions since time immemorial and even the blog world is full of posts on the subject.

Indians however are very clever people. They have role models and even Gods to come to their help in getting rid of guilt. Let me give you a classic case of deception that is part of India’s greatest epic, The Mahabharatha, which with about one hundred thousand verses, long prose passages, or about 1.8 million words in total, is roughly ten times the length of the Iliad and Odyssey combined.

Yudhishtira is the eldest of the Pandavas, the good guys. Yudhishtira is famous for his honesty and uprightness. Drona is the opposition’s greatest hit man. In fact, Drona was the teacher for both sides of the divide. Krishna, the God in human form is the charioteer for Arjuna the hero of the good guys.

In the war, the Kuru commander Drona was killing thousands of Pandava warriors. Krishna hatched a plan to tell Drona that his son Ashwathama had died, so that the invincible and destructive Kuru commander would give up his arms and thus could be killed.

The plan was set in motion when Bhima killed an elephant named Ashwathama, and loudly proclaimed that Ashwathama was dead. Drona, knowing that only Yudhisthira, with his firm adherence to the truth, could tell him for sure if his son had died, approached Yudhisthira for confirmation. Yudhisthira told him: “Ashwathama has died”. Yudhisthira, who could not make himself tell a lie, despite the fact that if Drona continued to fight, the Pandavas and the cause of dharma itself would have been lost, then added: “Praha kunjara ha”, which means he is not sure whether elephant named Ashwathama or the man Ashwathama had died.

Krishna, knowing that Yudhisthira would be unable to lie, had all the warriors beat war-drums and cymbals to make as much noise as possible at the critical moment. The words “Praha kunjara ha” were lost in the tumult and the ruse worked. Drona was disheartened, and laid down his weapons. He was then killed by Dhristadyumna, another hit man from the good guys.

If God could arrange for such deceptions, who are we, mere mortals to shun half truths or whatever else you want to call them? I refuse to be guilty whenever I have to speak half truths. Why, I often tell full lies, like Nick gives examples of. When the food is awful in my host’s home, I shall not feel guilty if I praise the food and manage to eat enough to back up that lie. And I am not God, I am just human.




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Solitude.

Friday, June 11th, 2010

I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers. ~Henry David Thoreau, “Solitude,” Walden, 1854

Language… has created the word “loneliness” to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word “solitude” to express the glory of being alone. ~Paul Johannes Tillich, The Eternal Now.

These two quotations sum up the thrust of my post.

My definition of loneliness is being uncomfortable when alone and, of solitude as being content and happy with oneself when alone.

I am never lonely. For some strange reason, reading books, listening to music, surfing the web etc when alone, are not considered to be truly living in solitude, by some of my friends who think that true solitude is to be completely isolated with nothing but nature to keep one company, like Thoreau experienced in Walden. I tell them that he had books to keep him company and I have the modern conveniences to do so. I add that with modern methods of communication, one can choose to be in company or not and that is precisely what solitude enables one to do.

The question then arises as to what one does if one prefers a life of solitude but is married. I was married for forty years, and still maintained that I could enjoy my solitude, or periods of it, despite my marriage, as did my late wife. This quotation says it so completely that no further elaboration is necessary. “In a soulmate we find not company but a completed solitude.” ~Robert Brault

Practically speaking, I enjoy my solitude most when I am meditating in the early mornings, solving crossword puzzles and reading books. I enjoy the banter and the company of my blog world as well as my real world, but there is only so much that I can take of that. After some time, I tire of such activity and prefer to return to my solitude. So much so, that a number of my friends now strongly believe that I am heading towards being a recluse. That does not bother me as much as it seems to bother them! To them I say that they are not worried that I will become a recluse as much as they worry that with my absence, they are afraid of being lonely! Neat, is it not?

How about you dear reader? Do you prefer solitude or are you afraid of loneliness?

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Freedom Vs Independence.

Friday, April 30th, 2010

I’m going fishing
I got me a line
Nothin’ I do’s gonna’ make the difference
So I’m taking the time

And you ain’t never gonna’ be happy
Anyhow, anyway
So I’m going fishing
And I’m going today

I’m going fishing
Sounds crazy I know
I know nothing about fishing
But just watch me go

And when my time has come
I will look back and see
Peace on the shoreline
That could have been me

You can waste whole lifetime
Trying to be
What you think is expected of you
But you’ll never be free

May as well go fishing

This post is inspired by the topic suggested by Anu. At her age, wanting freedom and independence is very understandable. I used to be like that at that age. I then discovered that these two words are big myths. There is nothing called absolute freedom or absolute independence. I discovered much later that gaining freedom and independence from the protection of the parents/family situation simply meant taking responsibility for one’s own very existence. The price one pays for this is quite high in the Indian context, particularly so, for Indian women.

We can never be free from many things irrespective of how wealthy we become. The taxmen, relatives, spouse, offspring, in-laws, friends, well wishers, hangers on, nosy neighbours, jealousy, envy and so on so forth. And the older you get, other things are added to the list like, illnesses, medicines, restrictions on diet and habits etc. So, Anu dear, just get used to the idea of never really having total freedom.

Independence again, is impossible. From the morning cup of tea till you go to bed, you are dependent on a million people and things to enable you to be alive and practical. You need farms, farmers, rain, irrigation, middle men, transporters, shop keepers, clothiers, bankers, employers, the government and many many others and at the end, undertakers to live and die in dignity. So, Anu, my advise to you is go fishing.

“IF YOU WISH FOR A PEARL
YOU MUST LEAVE THE DESERT
AND WANDER BY THE SEA.
AND EVEN IF YOU NEVER FIND
THE GLEAMING PEARL, AT LEAST
YOU WOULDN’T HAVE FAILED TO REACH THE WATER.”

-Hakim Sanai in Haqiqat al-Haqiqa. (The walled garden of Truth)

Before I forget, I hope that you enjoyed reading another post of the Friday Loose Bloggers’ Consortium when eleven of us post on the same topic chosen by one of us. Today’s topic has been chosen by Anu, and we all know why she chose the topic don’t we?

Please do visit Ashok, Conrad, Grannymar, Magpie11, Maria, Gaelikaa, Helen, Judy, Anu and Ginger to see ten other views on the same topic. Some of these bloggers may be preoccupied with vacations, examinations, family problems and/or romance, so be a little indulgent in case they do not post or post late.

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One Million Indians!

Wednesday, April 21st, 2010

Some of my readers keep urging me to write more about India and Indians. I am trying my best to and here is help from an unexpected source for which I am very grateful.

My friend Sandeep, yes the same one currently in hibernation at Qatar, is in awe of numbers and particularly mass meetings of Indians.

He has this to say about the latest Kumbh Mela held at Haridwar.

The Kumbh Mela in India is the largest gathering of people in one place, anywhere in the world. It occurs every three years, and its current edition, in the Himalayan mountain town of Haridwar (25 kilometres downstream from Rishikesh) has drawn ten million pilgrims. Ten million!
 
“The Kumbh Mela derives from Hindu mythology, which holds that gods and demons struggled over a pitcher, or kumbh, containing the drink of immortality. As the gods raced toward heaven, drops of the sacred nectar spilled out onto four locations on the river: Allahabad, Ujjain, Nashik and Haridwar. Today, the Kumbh Mela is held every three years, rotating among the four cities, meaning that each hosts every 12 years.”

He then goes on to give a link to an article in the New York Times which is what prompted that creative piece of writing. The article is worth a read.

Gaelikaa who many of you know as another keen blogger with two blogs, has been hearing about Haridwar and is quite keen to go for a visit. I only hope that she goes when it is not Kumbhmela time.

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Art.

Friday, April 9th, 2010

Welcome to another post of the Friday Loose Bloggers’ Consortium when eleven of us post on the same topic chosen by one of us. Today’s topic has been chosen by Ginger.

Please do visit Ashok, Conrad, Grannymar, Magpie11, Maria, Gaelikaa, Helen, Judy, Anu and Ginger to see ten other views on the same topic. Some of these bloggers may be preoccupied with vacations, examinations, family problems and/or romance, so be a little indulgent in case they do not post or post late.

Please do listen to this song while reading the lyrics.

THE SINGER NOT THE SONG
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)

Everywhere you want I always go
I always give in because, babe, you know
You just say so cause you give me that
Feeling inside that I know must be right
It’s the singer not the song

It’s not the way you give in willingly
Others do it without thrilling me
Giving me that same old feeling inside that I
Know I must be right
It’s the singer not the song

The same old places and the same old songs
We’ve been going there for much too long
There’s something wrong and it gives me that feeling
Inside that I know I must be right
It’s the singer not the song
It’s the singer not the song
It’s the singer not the song

For me, it was the Artist, not her Art. Despite having known her for 48 years and having been married to her for forty of them, I know nothing about Art. Urmeela and her remarkable teacher, told me early on that if it appealed to me, it was good art and if not, it was not good art FOR ME. I was comfortable with that, just as I am now too. My home now has a few of Urmeela’s paintings, one of which is shown above,  and batiks as well as, a much cherished etching of a great artist friend of ours. Just four years ago, one fine day, Urmeela decided that no useful purpose will be served by keeping all her old works and arranged for a grand bonfire in our garden. When I asked her why she wished to do that, she said that the best of her works were already in good collections and on the walls of her home. The rest needed to be destroyed so that she could create afresh. That she was not able to, is a poignant part of my life’s story.

“The function of the artist is the mythologization of the environment and the world.”

“The artist is the one who communicates myth for today. But he has to be an artist who understands mythology and humanity and isn’t simply a sociologist with a program for you.”

“The real artist is the one who has learned to recognize and to render what Joyce has called the “radiance” of all things, as an epiphany or showing forth of their truth.”

- Joseph Campbell, in his book “The Power Of Myth.”

Urmeela succeeded in performing that function admirably. Her art reminds me of her. She is now my myth, her works, what few are left, radiate many things. I am comfortable with that.

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Hell-Two.

Tuesday, March 30th, 2010

The purpose of this post is very simple. My earlier post on ‘Hell’, has taken a life of its own and the comments and responses are showing no signs of abating.

At last count, there were fifty five comments on the post and it is still counting. I recommend that, those readers who have not subscribed to the comments by mail, go back to the post and catch up with the very lively debate that has started there.

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Hell.

Friday, March 26th, 2010

Welcome to another post of the Friday Loose Bloggers’ Consortium when eleven of us post on the same topic chosen by one of us. Today’s topic has been chosen by Grannymar. Quite why, I will never be able to figure out.

Please do visit Ashok, Conrad, Grannymar, Magpie11, Maria, Gaelikaa, Helen, Judy, Anu and Ginger to see ten other views on the same topic. Some of these bloggers may be preoccupied with vacations, examinations, family problems and/or romance, so be a little indulgent in case they do not post or post late.

“What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.”
- Fyodor Dostoyevsky

My idea of hell is what Europe, particularly the UK will be like, if the messages in these nine photographs taken in London, of British citizens achieve what they propose. These photographs were taken during a “Religion of peace demonstration” taken out by British citizens.

That is why, before what I love becomes hell, I want to visit.

To me, many of these citizens of a country on whose model our own democracy is built, seem already to be  in hell.  I wonder if they are dreaming of the time that they can go to that heaven that they are promised by their religious teachers.

Providence? Serendipity? After I wrote the post and before it could be published, I came across this article in the Independent. My best wishes to the UK in their endeavours to protect themselves from terrorists,

To change the mood somewhat after that rant, here is a true story that snopes says appeared in ‘The People’ paper, that should cheer my readers up a bit.

Iraqi terrorist, Khay Rahnajet, didn’t pay enough postage on a letter bomb. It came back with “return to sender” stamped on it. Forgetting it was the bomb, he opened it and was blown to bits.

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Desire.

Friday, March 19th, 2010

“When all the desires that surge in the heart are renounced,
The mortal becomes immortal.
When all the knots that strangle the heart are loosened,
The mortal becomes immortal.”

“You are what your deep, driving desire is.
As your desire is, so is your will.
As your will is, so is your deed.
As your deed is, so is your DESTINY.”

- Brihadaranyaka Upanishad.

I am not exaggerating when I say that I have never had great desires. No, I am not subnormal, more like practical. I grew up with very sound conditioning that taught me and my siblings to accept our lot and do the best that we could under whatever circumstances that came our way. It is to my complete satisfaction that by and large we have lived like that and many material things have come our way. I think that my three siblings will agree with me that, the things that have come our way have come without great desiring for them or striving towards obtaining them.

If I could replace the word ‘Desire’ with ‘ambition’ my thoughts would still be the same. My regular readers would remember the post ‘Ambition’ which more or less reflects the contents of this post too.

From about the end of the year 2001, however I developed a great desire and prayed for it with all my heart and soul. That was that I outlive my wife to provide her the best possible care that she could get. My prayers were answered and as I write this, I have outlived her by over a year.

I now have a desire. It is not a burning, all consuming desire, but one I hope comes true, and if it does not, so be it. It will not make me unhappy if it does not come true. That desire is to travel again to the UK, the USA, Australia and New Zealand to meet up with relatives and some old friends and to meet face to face, some new ones made via the blogworld.

Not much to desire for is it?

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Retirement – Fantasy And Reality II.

Friday, January 8th, 2010

To my post of yesterday Ursula has offered her comments as under.

“Ramana, that photo is cruel. I am such a nice person I actually delete rubbish shots of my nearest and dearest as not to hurt their feelings in public.

Retirement? What retirement? I DO NOT WANT TO RETIRE! The trick is to do all your life what you want to do. Follow your star, as one of you recently said (I think it was you, Gaelikaa) even if we find ourselves in the gutter at times – as I did about twelve months ago. And, yes, I know it doesn’t always work like that: Even I do the odd rubbish assignment to pay the next electricity bill. But at least I am not caged in only to then be released at age 65 with a handshake and some rubbish present that I my son most certainly won’t wish to inherit.
Please don’t get me wrong. I am not knocking any of your achievements and the relief you feel when you reach that magical age. But, looking at it brutally, it’s one hell of a life to live only to look forward to retirement. Naturally, the lucky ones are those in old money who can do what they like at their leisure.

My father, most my friends, I, we love what we do. I don’t even have a pension fund because I’ll “work” till I drop. I do what I like when I like. I don’t need anyone’s permission to do what I want to do. It’s a luxury. Like having space. Though naturally being freelance/self employed as opposed to being sent into retirement at a specified date does require some nerve.”

My response is as follows:

“What is cruel about it? I sit like that and doze quite often. He is blissfully unaware of what is going on around him. He is full of beer, a good pub lunch and is sleeping in warm sunlight on a lovely summer afternoon. Look at it from his point of view. Total bliss! Ranjan has taken some photographs of me, sleeping in most unusual postures and I hesitate to post them lest I offend the aesthetic sense of some of my readers like Maynard and Gail.

I have not retired from living. On the contrary, I believe that now I am living the kind of life that I should have lived had I been in old money. Retirement does not mean not doing anything. That is an impossible situation. One cannot live not doing anything. Let me illustrate. Normally, I go to bed around 2130 hrs. Recently, a friend of mine from California got me on the IM and the two of us were at it for about an hour, so much so that my sister who saw that I was online sent me an SMS scolding me for either being up so late or for not having turned the computer off! When I SMSd her back she said okay have fun and backed off!. So, some days, I sleep a little late, catch up the next day, may be get up later than usual, take off to up the mountains for a drive or whatever whenever the mood takes me.

The freedom to be able to accommodate these things after a life time of working watching the clock is what is nice about retirement. Particularly so, if there is enough in the bank and some pension keeps coming in and you can pay all your bills and send some gifts to friends and relatives, buy a few books, send for some exotic food or spices or whatever etc. And most importantly, I can now say ‘No’ to many things without hesitating.

So, these are my stars that I follow. One that I am following is to dance with you in the rain in London! It will happen. The chances of it happening when I was working, was a big fat zero. Now, I have got plenty of space around me, subject to the restrictions that I have placed on myself regarding the care that I give to my father, purely voluntarily.

The pension that I am talking about is from a corpus that will revert to my son on my death, it is not from tax payers’ funds. I am not in old money. I shall however ensure that my son is in old money. That is another star that I followed and have made a reality, whereas my son says, “go live off your capital old man, I shall fend for myself”. Tempting indeed. See the difference?

The other aspect of my working life was not that I worked to retire. Far from it. I enjoyed my work fully, continue to enjoy the benefits that accrued to me then in the form of a net work of friends and associates, but to be honest, there were days that I said to myself, man, I wish that I can retire now. I enjoyed my life then, I enjoy it now and I hope to continue to do so till I pop off. (BHB, are you reading?)”

retirement

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Heroism – II

Saturday, October 24th, 2009

I refer my readers to my post “The Complicated Me?”

The book that triggered off that post, is “The Denial Of Death” by Ernest Becker. The book arrived today and I regret that it did not arrive yesterday.

The book is about Heroism. I have just read through the preface and the introduction and have offered the book for first read to my friend who will collect it tomorrow morning. In the meanwhile, this is what Wikipedia has to say about it.

“The Denial of Death is a work of psychology and philosophy written by Ernest Becker and published in 1973.[1] It was awarded the Pulitzer prize for general non-fiction in 1974, two months after the author’s death.[2] The book builds largely on the works of Søren Kierkegaard, Sigmund Freud, and one of Freud’s colleagues, Otto Rank.

The basic premise of The Denial of Death is that human civilization is ultimately an elaborate, symbolic defense mechanism against the knowledge of our mortality, which in turn acts as the emotional and intellectual response to our basic survival mechanism. Becker argues that a basic duality in human life exists between the physical world of objects and a symbolic world of human meaning. Thus, since man has a dualistic nature consisting of a physical self and a symbolic self, man is able to transcend the dilemma of mortality through heroism, a concept involving his symbolic half. By embarking on what Becker refers to as an “immortality project” (or causa sui), in which he creates or becomes part of something which he feels will last forever, man feels he has “become” heroic and, henceforth, part of something eternal; something that will never die, compared to his physical body that will die one day. This, in turn, gives man the feeling that his life has meaning; a purpose; significance in the grand scheme of things.”

There is much more on the subject and you can learn a great deal more about Heroism in the write up. If you think that it would be of further use, perhaps you can read the whole book. I intend to after my friend returns it to me.

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