A criminal is one who does not respect the laws of society.
Every criminal knows that he is breaking the law. Still he does it. He has no respect for the law. He lives by his own rules.
The laws of society operate to keep the animal instincts of seeking unbridled pleasure and of malice towards one's fellow humans under check.
The feeling of being wronged, of being unjustly treated gives rise to disrespect for the laws. If the laws are against "me", why should "I" respect them? An unfair society ends up in a spiral of increasing crime and corruption.
The more corrupt a society, the more fervent the value-instilling machinery. How else can one explain the thousand and one spiritual, moralistic teachers but as the agents of righteousness in a thoroughly criminal society such as India?
The "I" has unlimited capacity for self-aggrandisement and hedonism. When that capacity is thwarted by society, thence arises the criminal tendency.
It is futile to build a so-called just world by outward adjustments. There is resentment in almost every human being towards the way the universe treats him. No matter how equitable the distribution of wealth, there will always be a lot amongnst us who will be jealous of another's wife or husband, of another's skills, of another's attitude towards life.
The normal man, the one who is afraid, is jealous of the successful as well as the criminal. His jealousy takes the form of flattery and resentment towards the successful, and hate and violence (and sometimes adulation of courage) towards the criminal.
From childhood till old age, the struggle to get pleasure is met by fierce competition and hostility. And if a man thinks that he can avoid getting caught, or if the social morality is not deep enough in him, he will try all manner of tricks to please and sustain himself.
It is only fear, or an instilled sense of morality, that deter a man from committing a crime.
If a society fails at instilling fear, instilling values and morality is considered the next best option. Morality works through the feelings of guilt.
The criminal is one who has manages to thwart both his fear and his guilt. He commits his crime furtively, fearful of punishment, but brave enough to risk it.
The lesser the fear, or the conditioning, the greater the capacity for crime.
As most morality coexists with religion, is it a surprise why atheist (e.g. the communist) regimes are so totalitarian? If guilt has no other foundation than morality, and if morality only works with a sense of absolute good (a.k.a religion), then instilling fear is the only other option, no?
The institutions of society are designed to instill this fear and conditioning in man. As children, we are wont to indulge ourselves, and to expect others to oblige us. But as we grow older, we realize that people tolerate our tantrums and selfishness less and less. We learn to temper our instincts. This social conditioning exists not just in man. In various species of animals, aggression is met with aggression, ambition is met with violence, and so on.
Now there are many ways to achieve pleasure for oneself. Those whom circumstances favour find themselves flush with money and influence, and for them, it is important that the others follow the established laws so as not to threaten their own position of power.
The subservient amongst us try to succeed by following the rules and the instilled morality, and so few of us succeed that way. The instilled morality makes sure that we don't try radical means of upsetting the power structure.
There is a difference between an unfair system and a corrupt system. Systems are unfair if the laws are geared towards serving the powerful. Unfair systems may very well be law-abiding systems. (Consider the capitalist system). Corrupt systems are those in which breaking of laws is rewarded, not punished. (consider the political system in India).
...
After a certain age, the fear of punishment overtakes the enthusiasm of taking risks, because the organism loses the energy to start afresh. The cost of censure and punishment rises in proportion with the cost of starting afresh in life.
Children are not punished harshly. We recognize that their conditioning is not yet deep enough, and so their animal instincts may as yet be forgiven.
The criminal is a failure for society, and as such he is a danger. Such men must be made examples of.
...
What happens to the psyche of a normal enough man if he is caught for something that he considered aberrant but safe enough to try?
There is a whole kaleidoscope of different emotions. A little guilt, a little remorse, a little regret (that he should have been more careful not to get caught), a little learning about what (and how) he should try in future, a little shame, a little fall from grace (which can be covered up with bravado and boasting), a little self-justification (how can one ever admit that one was wrong?), a little cover-up of oneself, a little bit of denial (was it really wrong?), a little bit of resentment towards the ones who caught one, a little bit of ridicule and abuse towards the more moral (those cowards!), a little bit of feeling a hero (one tried something risky, didn't one?), a little bit of sadness, maybe anger towards someone who was an agent of discovery (voluntarily or inadvertently) (what a snitch!), a little bit of rebellious talk against the established order, a little bit of trying to make the best of a bad situation (pleading, manipulating, showing sorrow, expressing that one has been wronged, cunningly trying to win the sympathy of others, lying, ...), ...
Oh what an entity the self is! It is the wonder of wonders.
Does one need to watch a movie or to read a novel, if one knows how to read oneself and one's fellow humans?
Truth is stranger than fiction, indeed.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
On Bollywood
This monologue meanders through various psycho-social aspects of
Indian cinema at present. Yesterday I saw a contemporary Hindi movie,
Salaam Namaste. This movie, is in many ways, a representative of the
current neurosis gripping the metropolitan crowd.
However firstly, I would like to talk about three of my favourite
movies from Hindi cinema.
As one can see, the three movies weave the tapestry of individual
lives in the context of the larger socity and the culture of the
times. All three can be called tragic movies, in that they offer no
hope for man, but all three are triumphant in that they show how an
individual can cease to resign to life-threatening pressures and
maintain one's integrity. Even though the individuals are common and
suffer from human frailities, a glimpse into their psyche's offers one
the unique privilege of learning about the pressures of modern life.
...
These movies were not mainstream movies. To contrast them to the
the current mainstream movies is useful to show what entertainment
and a movie-going experience means to the modern crowd.
I will state my observations aphoristically, since I am more
comfortable with this mode of communication.
Today's movies are made for consumption, not for contemplation.
As one of my friends put it, today's movies are made for kids and
adoloscents, not for adults.
In the angst of modern city life, of the unending pressures and
nervous tensions, one craves for relaxation and unwinding. The
escapes in a modern city are made for that purpose.
Today's movies do not portray the reality of life. They portray a
dream world. And as the reality becomes more and more bitter, these
movies are more and more successful.
As India's culture and familial structures suffer from a crisis of
values and conformity, either a joint family is celebrated, or
unusually sensitive and friendly parents are depicted, or the family
is ignored altogether in the depiction of a superficial freedom.
Freedom to live as one wants is not the same as freedom from one's
background and instinctual behaviour. Audiences love to see the
traditions and instincts in action, but with a much greater focus on
the individual.
The bodies of the actors and actresses of yore were not perfect.
Today the heroes have sculpted bodies and the actresses have gone into
the nether-world of moden make up.
As the story and the psyche of the characters becomes uninteresting,
to hold the interest of the audience, clothes, cars and toys, locales
and artificially-manufactured comic situations have to be introduced.
Indian cinema heavily plagiarizes from the western movies. Some of
the greatest Hindi movies have been rip-offs and a melange of various
western soaps and movies.
As Indian movies are now shot almost exclusively on foreign locations,
this is another level of escape from the hideousness of the Indian
landscape. Right outside the theatre, one can find blind beggars,
children wearing dirty rags, and piles of garbage. What contrast!
In such movies there is a patetic show-off of the lifestyle of the
west as well as that of the rich living a western lifestyle in India.
There is nothing wrong with western lifestyle, but isn't there a
psychological reason it is sold in media to the masses in poor
countries?
Individuation and personal idiosyncracies becomes more pronounced in
the characters in such movies because people themselves crave for a
recognition and appreciation of their whimsical selves.
Today's movies trivialize thought and depth. Attitudes and narrow
visions are celebrated rather than seen as detrimental to harmony.
As in the daily life we become more and more powerless, politically
and socially (voluntarily or otherwise), power-plays in individual
relationships become more pronounced and the only evidence of our free
will.
Repetition is a routine feature of comic relief in Indian movies. A
mannerism or a particular turn of phrase (either in a kid or in an
adult) becomes the cue for laughter. Representative examples of this
technique are the role of the servant in "Maine Pyar Kiya", of the
Sikh child in "Kuch Kuch Hota Hai" and of the Crocodile Dundee in
"Salaam Namaste".
Repetition of a particular turn of phrase or mannerism is considered
something which would make a hero/heroine identifiable, but it ends up
making him into a caricature.
And of course, the western standards of physique, facial features and
skin colour are all pervasive in our media. Aquiline noses, blue
eyes, extremely fair skin, prominent jawline in the male, shaved
chests for the male, toned muscles, thin bodies for the female and so
on.
Predictably, therefore, the present-day movies, portray the deep
inferiority that Indians have towards their own selves, bodies and
intellect.
The greatest Indian movies, according to me, are those which are
stories about human beings living in India, whose individuality comes
in sharp focus not because they possess superficial attitudes, but
because they are unable to be mass humans, conforming neither to the
western standards nor to the eastern. Ray's Apu Trilogy and "The
Middleman" and Mrinal Sen's social commentaries come to mind.
Today entertainment is mass-produced in the sense it is adjusted to
cater to what the masses want. And as being a mass man is abhorrent
to me because it would make me accept a set of beliefs (whether
eastern or western) and conformant behaviour patterns, I rejoice in
alternative cinema.
Indian cinema at present. Yesterday I saw a contemporary Hindi movie,
Salaam Namaste. This movie, is in many ways, a representative of the
current neurosis gripping the metropolitan crowd.
However firstly, I would like to talk about three of my favourite
movies from Hindi cinema.
- Ardh Satya: It is Govind Nihalani's first movie about the impotence a man suffers when he joins the machinery of society. A sub inspector in Bombay, having grown up in a violently patriarchal family is unusually sensitive about justice, fairness and respect for the common citizen. As he observes the injustice and cruelty of the urban landscape, and as he forms a relationship with a woman (a college teacher), he inwardly disintegrates and moves towards disaster, personally and professionally.
- Woh Chhokri: It is a TV production starring Pallavi Joshi and Om Puri in which a poor girl, a disowned daughter of a career politician gets bounced around in society, to one exploiter after another, and finally is killed at the orders of her own father.
- Ye woh manzil to nahin: Three old ex-freedom fighters get together in the twilight of their lives to see the mayhem of student activism in modern India. They strive for redemption, suffering from a distant guilt about having betrayed a friend; and achieve it in a strange way after trying unsuccessfully to save an honest student leader from death.
lives in the context of the larger socity and the culture of the
times. All three can be called tragic movies, in that they offer no
hope for man, but all three are triumphant in that they show how an
individual can cease to resign to life-threatening pressures and
maintain one's integrity. Even though the individuals are common and
suffer from human frailities, a glimpse into their psyche's offers one
the unique privilege of learning about the pressures of modern life.
...
These movies were not mainstream movies. To contrast them to the
the current mainstream movies is useful to show what entertainment
and a movie-going experience means to the modern crowd.
I will state my observations aphoristically, since I am more
comfortable with this mode of communication.
Today's movies are made for consumption, not for contemplation.
As one of my friends put it, today's movies are made for kids and
adoloscents, not for adults.
In the angst of modern city life, of the unending pressures and
nervous tensions, one craves for relaxation and unwinding. The
escapes in a modern city are made for that purpose.
Today's movies do not portray the reality of life. They portray a
dream world. And as the reality becomes more and more bitter, these
movies are more and more successful.
As India's culture and familial structures suffer from a crisis of
values and conformity, either a joint family is celebrated, or
unusually sensitive and friendly parents are depicted, or the family
is ignored altogether in the depiction of a superficial freedom.
Freedom to live as one wants is not the same as freedom from one's
background and instinctual behaviour. Audiences love to see the
traditions and instincts in action, but with a much greater focus on
the individual.
The bodies of the actors and actresses of yore were not perfect.
Today the heroes have sculpted bodies and the actresses have gone into
the nether-world of moden make up.
As the story and the psyche of the characters becomes uninteresting,
to hold the interest of the audience, clothes, cars and toys, locales
and artificially-manufactured comic situations have to be introduced.
Indian cinema heavily plagiarizes from the western movies. Some of
the greatest Hindi movies have been rip-offs and a melange of various
western soaps and movies.
As Indian movies are now shot almost exclusively on foreign locations,
this is another level of escape from the hideousness of the Indian
landscape. Right outside the theatre, one can find blind beggars,
children wearing dirty rags, and piles of garbage. What contrast!
In such movies there is a patetic show-off of the lifestyle of the
west as well as that of the rich living a western lifestyle in India.
There is nothing wrong with western lifestyle, but isn't there a
psychological reason it is sold in media to the masses in poor
countries?
Individuation and personal idiosyncracies becomes more pronounced in
the characters in such movies because people themselves crave for a
recognition and appreciation of their whimsical selves.
Today's movies trivialize thought and depth. Attitudes and narrow
visions are celebrated rather than seen as detrimental to harmony.
As in the daily life we become more and more powerless, politically
and socially (voluntarily or otherwise), power-plays in individual
relationships become more pronounced and the only evidence of our free
will.
Repetition is a routine feature of comic relief in Indian movies. A
mannerism or a particular turn of phrase (either in a kid or in an
adult) becomes the cue for laughter. Representative examples of this
technique are the role of the servant in "Maine Pyar Kiya", of the
Sikh child in "Kuch Kuch Hota Hai" and of the Crocodile Dundee in
"Salaam Namaste".
Repetition of a particular turn of phrase or mannerism is considered
something which would make a hero/heroine identifiable, but it ends up
making him into a caricature.
And of course, the western standards of physique, facial features and
skin colour are all pervasive in our media. Aquiline noses, blue
eyes, extremely fair skin, prominent jawline in the male, shaved
chests for the male, toned muscles, thin bodies for the female and so
on.
Predictably, therefore, the present-day movies, portray the deep
inferiority that Indians have towards their own selves, bodies and
intellect.
The greatest Indian movies, according to me, are those which are
stories about human beings living in India, whose individuality comes
in sharp focus not because they possess superficial attitudes, but
because they are unable to be mass humans, conforming neither to the
western standards nor to the eastern. Ray's Apu Trilogy and "The
Middleman" and Mrinal Sen's social commentaries come to mind.
Today entertainment is mass-produced in the sense it is adjusted to
cater to what the masses want. And as being a mass man is abhorrent
to me because it would make me accept a set of beliefs (whether
eastern or western) and conformant behaviour patterns, I rejoice in
alternative cinema.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
The Pioneers
The discontented are the pioneers of the world. They, who refuse to
take the roads well travelled and instead choose to explore, in various
ways, the way to lasting peace and happiness.
Since my childhood, I have had the good fortune of meeting many people
who could not agree to a conformant life and instead were deeply
affected by the problems of the world and chose to alter the course of
their life in order to find a solution to the fundamental problems of
life.
Going through one cataclysm after another, belonging to one group
after another, following one philosophy after another, becoming
entrenched in the struggles for existence, breaking down at times,
carrying on despite the pressures to conform and to settle down,
withstanding the ostracism of their peers, choosing to give up the
superficial comforts of a secure existence... they had the potential
to be the pioneers of Humanity.
Every person on earth thinks about life and happiness. But these
people chose certain courses of action that required effort, turmoil
and uncertainty.
They, despite the different creeds that they temporarily belonged to,
shared the intensity to seek and find.
Many of them, having been born in India, adopted a particular
spiritual sect. Many of them became disenchanted and lost, confused
and directionless. Many of them suffered doubt, cynicism and a loss of
hope and energy. The instinctual pressures of loneliness, of sexual
desire, of the struggle for financial security, and the entrapments of
authority led us through valleys of despair, of a frittering away of
our vital years, of going around in circles hoping for a breakthrough.
Most of us gave up. Many of us settled down in comfortable careers,
in a familial existence, with the related pressures and
responsibilities, not having broken inwardly through the wall of
discontent.
I had a friend in school, a financially poor boy. He had the vision
of a peaceful society, howsoever misguided. When we all sat for our
matriculation examination, he saw some fellow students cheating and
being helped by the invigilators who were supposed to stop them. He
stood up and complained. But the corrupt invigilators charged himself
of cheating and threw him out. His life broke down after that. He
became a recluse, a drug addict and was finally hospitalized after
many years, close to death. I came to know of his story many years
later when it was too late...
I had another friend in college, who became involved in the Hare
Krishna movement for individual enlightenment. He became conditioned
with their beliefs. He went to the USA to earn money, could not
reconcile his spiritual beliefs with the capitalist society, but
didn't have the courage to leave it all (because the cost was too
high), became an experimenter with drugs, sex and anti-social
behaviour. He became bitter and cynical, and finally reconciled
himself to a personal failure in his quest, and gave up.
One could say that such people did not have the courage to go all the
way, that they got scared and gave up... But this loss of their
pioneering spirit, and their defeat, is a loss for all humanity.
Humanity extracts a heavy cost for being different and this is what is
tragic.
Then there were others who became deeply entangled into some sect,
gave up their careers and families, but could not find what they were
looking for.
When I remember those friends, I remember the first line of
"The Howl" by Allen Ginsberg:
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness"
And then the last lines:
"with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their
own bodies good to eat a thousand years."
My salutations to those who did not buckle down, and continue to
further the frontiers of human endeavour in their search for the
solutions to the pervasive and chronic problems of humankind.
take the roads well travelled and instead choose to explore, in various
ways, the way to lasting peace and happiness.
Since my childhood, I have had the good fortune of meeting many people
who could not agree to a conformant life and instead were deeply
affected by the problems of the world and chose to alter the course of
their life in order to find a solution to the fundamental problems of
life.
Going through one cataclysm after another, belonging to one group
after another, following one philosophy after another, becoming
entrenched in the struggles for existence, breaking down at times,
carrying on despite the pressures to conform and to settle down,
withstanding the ostracism of their peers, choosing to give up the
superficial comforts of a secure existence... they had the potential
to be the pioneers of Humanity.
Every person on earth thinks about life and happiness. But these
people chose certain courses of action that required effort, turmoil
and uncertainty.
They, despite the different creeds that they temporarily belonged to,
shared the intensity to seek and find.
Many of them, having been born in India, adopted a particular
spiritual sect. Many of them became disenchanted and lost, confused
and directionless. Many of them suffered doubt, cynicism and a loss of
hope and energy. The instinctual pressures of loneliness, of sexual
desire, of the struggle for financial security, and the entrapments of
authority led us through valleys of despair, of a frittering away of
our vital years, of going around in circles hoping for a breakthrough.
Most of us gave up. Many of us settled down in comfortable careers,
in a familial existence, with the related pressures and
responsibilities, not having broken inwardly through the wall of
discontent.
I had a friend in school, a financially poor boy. He had the vision
of a peaceful society, howsoever misguided. When we all sat for our
matriculation examination, he saw some fellow students cheating and
being helped by the invigilators who were supposed to stop them. He
stood up and complained. But the corrupt invigilators charged himself
of cheating and threw him out. His life broke down after that. He
became a recluse, a drug addict and was finally hospitalized after
many years, close to death. I came to know of his story many years
later when it was too late...
I had another friend in college, who became involved in the Hare
Krishna movement for individual enlightenment. He became conditioned
with their beliefs. He went to the USA to earn money, could not
reconcile his spiritual beliefs with the capitalist society, but
didn't have the courage to leave it all (because the cost was too
high), became an experimenter with drugs, sex and anti-social
behaviour. He became bitter and cynical, and finally reconciled
himself to a personal failure in his quest, and gave up.
One could say that such people did not have the courage to go all the
way, that they got scared and gave up... But this loss of their
pioneering spirit, and their defeat, is a loss for all humanity.
Humanity extracts a heavy cost for being different and this is what is
tragic.
Then there were others who became deeply entangled into some sect,
gave up their careers and families, but could not find what they were
looking for.
When I remember those friends, I remember the first line of
"The Howl" by Allen Ginsberg:
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness"
And then the last lines:
"with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their
own bodies good to eat a thousand years."
My salutations to those who did not buckle down, and continue to
further the frontiers of human endeavour in their search for the
solutions to the pervasive and chronic problems of humankind.
Monday, July 25, 2005
After the break-up
What is involved in the breaking up of a relationship? What are the kinds of pain involved in it? How does one "move on"? How does one "get over" a relationship?
Familiarity is one of the pivots of a relationship. Initially the specifics of the other person are found charming not because there is something inherently wonderful about them, but because each piece of knowledge gained about the other person strengthens the sense of familiarity, of possession and of a facile uniqueness. Each of us is different in our lifestyle and idiosyncrasies, and it is adjusting, and becoming familiar, to someone else's lifestyle which gives strength to the relationship. Such adjustments, and the exclusive attention to the other person's needs and desires, can only be made if there be hope of a continued gratification of owning him/her and of the emotional security he/she provides.
Each break-up therefore is a betrayal at some level. The tacit, though ill-thought-out, understanding at the beginning of almost every relationship is "come what may, we'll stay together; we'll be for each other in the face of this hostile world." Both invest time, effort and exclusive attention with the hope that this investment will bear the fruit of pleasure, fulfillment and security. As death, the ending of a relationship is never thought about.
In each (truly loving) relationship, the other person is of the highest value in one's life. Higher than the value of one's blood relations, higher than worries about money and career, higher than one's preferences about food, music and books, higher than one's world-view. One is willing to put all at stake for the sake of the other.
As one puts the other at the centre of one's life, to the exclusion of almost everything else, the break-up introduces an emptiness and loneliess which was not there before the relationship. As more and more adjustments are made, one's thought patterns and psychic fields become more and more entwined with the other.
And why this extreme valuation of the other person? What is the nature of the gratification obtained? Why so many adjustments, sacrifices and hopes? The answer, in one word, is the self. The self within, the illusory identity, is forever lonely and separated from everyone and everything. It needs constant affirmation, sustenance and companionship to survive and to grow. It uses all that is in the world to nourish itself. It is the parasite extraordinaire. It can consume everything and still remain hungry.
...
So, each break-up is a psychic calamity. All familiarity, all adjustments and sacrifices, are left blowing in the wind in an empty desert. All hopes and dreams are blown to smithereens.
Oh, what hope that one won't have to start over! What desperate tugging at the past, to recover what is lost, to again embrace that lost and familiar entity which gave me hope in this alien world (the self is forever alien to the world), which gave me meaning, which gave me strength to do things knowing that there is now a reason to do
them...
The heart-break is an apt term for this. The identity is almost torn apart. It is as if the womb is ravaged as a baby is forcibly removed from its network of nerves, blood vessels and air and food. What is the raison d'être of the womb now? Oh, if only I could die, now that there is no meaning to my existence!
The psychic entity cannot survive on its own. As the hope fades away, it again picks up the pieces of the broken heart and looks again at the world for something new to sustain itself.
As the tentacles of the psychic self which were entwined around the other person start withering, there is depression and restlessness akin to the pre-menstrual syndrome. Oh, all this for nothing! Oh, again I have to start the cycle of hope and pain and sacrifice...
Moving on in these circumstances only means finding other objects to occupy one-self. If too many sacrifices have been made, and the emptiness is frighteningly huge, suicide as a possibility starts looming over the horizon. "I feel drained, I feel no zest for life anymore, my destiny is only pain and loss," ...
Why is moving on easier in modern times? Because the adjustments are not that huge. Because one keeps alive one's tastes, hobbies and preferences and doesn't "give up" one-self for the other. Not that this is any better in the long run. The self is not pre-eminently concentrated on any object now, it is distributing its needs. This is called having one's own space. But its loneliness, the tendency to boredom, its restlessness and a sense of meaningless still remain.
It requires further and more varied stimulation to sustain itself. That is why in modern times, having a lot of "fun" is suddenly so important.
"Binaa nijh roop ke jaane, nahin aaraamdaari hae,
Jatan kar aap ko jaano, tabhee chhoote beemaari hae."
(Without knowing what you are in reality, there is no lasting peace,
Find out what you are with great diligence, only then will the malaise cease.)
Familiarity is one of the pivots of a relationship. Initially the specifics of the other person are found charming not because there is something inherently wonderful about them, but because each piece of knowledge gained about the other person strengthens the sense of familiarity, of possession and of a facile uniqueness. Each of us is different in our lifestyle and idiosyncrasies, and it is adjusting, and becoming familiar, to someone else's lifestyle which gives strength to the relationship. Such adjustments, and the exclusive attention to the other person's needs and desires, can only be made if there be hope of a continued gratification of owning him/her and of the emotional security he/she provides.
Each break-up therefore is a betrayal at some level. The tacit, though ill-thought-out, understanding at the beginning of almost every relationship is "come what may, we'll stay together; we'll be for each other in the face of this hostile world." Both invest time, effort and exclusive attention with the hope that this investment will bear the fruit of pleasure, fulfillment and security. As death, the ending of a relationship is never thought about.
In each (truly loving) relationship, the other person is of the highest value in one's life. Higher than the value of one's blood relations, higher than worries about money and career, higher than one's preferences about food, music and books, higher than one's world-view. One is willing to put all at stake for the sake of the other.
As one puts the other at the centre of one's life, to the exclusion of almost everything else, the break-up introduces an emptiness and loneliess which was not there before the relationship. As more and more adjustments are made, one's thought patterns and psychic fields become more and more entwined with the other.
And why this extreme valuation of the other person? What is the nature of the gratification obtained? Why so many adjustments, sacrifices and hopes? The answer, in one word, is the self. The self within, the illusory identity, is forever lonely and separated from everyone and everything. It needs constant affirmation, sustenance and companionship to survive and to grow. It uses all that is in the world to nourish itself. It is the parasite extraordinaire. It can consume everything and still remain hungry.
...
So, each break-up is a psychic calamity. All familiarity, all adjustments and sacrifices, are left blowing in the wind in an empty desert. All hopes and dreams are blown to smithereens.
Oh, what hope that one won't have to start over! What desperate tugging at the past, to recover what is lost, to again embrace that lost and familiar entity which gave me hope in this alien world (the self is forever alien to the world), which gave me meaning, which gave me strength to do things knowing that there is now a reason to do
them...
The heart-break is an apt term for this. The identity is almost torn apart. It is as if the womb is ravaged as a baby is forcibly removed from its network of nerves, blood vessels and air and food. What is the raison d'être of the womb now? Oh, if only I could die, now that there is no meaning to my existence!
The psychic entity cannot survive on its own. As the hope fades away, it again picks up the pieces of the broken heart and looks again at the world for something new to sustain itself.
As the tentacles of the psychic self which were entwined around the other person start withering, there is depression and restlessness akin to the pre-menstrual syndrome. Oh, all this for nothing! Oh, again I have to start the cycle of hope and pain and sacrifice...
Moving on in these circumstances only means finding other objects to occupy one-self. If too many sacrifices have been made, and the emptiness is frighteningly huge, suicide as a possibility starts looming over the horizon. "I feel drained, I feel no zest for life anymore, my destiny is only pain and loss," ...
Why is moving on easier in modern times? Because the adjustments are not that huge. Because one keeps alive one's tastes, hobbies and preferences and doesn't "give up" one-self for the other. Not that this is any better in the long run. The self is not pre-eminently concentrated on any object now, it is distributing its needs. This is called having one's own space. But its loneliness, the tendency to boredom, its restlessness and a sense of meaningless still remain.
It requires further and more varied stimulation to sustain itself. That is why in modern times, having a lot of "fun" is suddenly so important.
"Binaa nijh roop ke jaane, nahin aaraamdaari hae,
Jatan kar aap ko jaano, tabhee chhoote beemaari hae."
(Without knowing what you are in reality, there is no lasting peace,
Find out what you are with great diligence, only then will the malaise cease.)
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Spiritual teachers
To each his own (spiritual teacher).
There are spiritual teachers who are genuinely deluded (i.e. who are enlightened) and there are those who wear a mask of wisdom.
In the first category come the great sages like the Buddha, Nanak, Christ, and (more recently) Ramakrishna, Ramana Maharishi, Krishnamurti and Osho.
They are not after building a following, or for amassing wealth.
They genuinely believe that they have a message for the benighted humanity and spend their whole lives in guiding seekers to the illusory kingdom of heaven.
In the second category there is a multitude: all the priests and preachers, money-minded saints and the fraudsters, tricksters, molesters and the political saints. Some of these are very suave and intelligent.
Current examples: Sai Baba, Asaram Bapu, Sudhanshu ji Maharaj, Maa Amritananda Mayi, Deepak Chopra, Benny Hinn, Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev, Kanchi Sankaracharya, the Pope, and so on...
There is a third category: of deluded egoist folks who think they are quite evolved and many people indeed take them to be enlightened but they fall short of the highest standards in this sphere.
Examples are Swami Vivekananda, UG Krishnamurti, John de Ruiter, Adi da Samraj, Srila Prabhupada, S N Goenka etc.
Most non-serious seekers fall into the trap of the tricksters. Most serious seekers get stuck in the third category. The lucky few find a first category teacher.
It is comparatively easy to break free of a second or third category teacher, one can find the truth about them soon enough and get tired of them, but it is extremely difficult to break free of a first category teacher because he truly believes himself to be God (or a messenger of God).
The first category teachers inspire generations of seekers to give up everything in their search for truth.
As people get disenchanted with the material pursuits and the associated stresses, spiritual salvation seems the only alternative. It takes many years for one to traverse the terrain. The rare few who become enlightened or think they have evolved enough become evangelists or teachers themselves.
The others, who cannot break through, either become bitter or resigned to their lot. Some of them think that maybe in the next life they will achieve the breakthrough.
It takes a lot of energy to go on a quest about life. Repeated failures drain one's energy. But one must not give up. Even if it means dumping spirituality as a whole into the dustbin and starting afresh.
There are spiritual teachers who are genuinely deluded (i.e. who are enlightened) and there are those who wear a mask of wisdom.
In the first category come the great sages like the Buddha, Nanak, Christ, and (more recently) Ramakrishna, Ramana Maharishi, Krishnamurti and Osho.
They are not after building a following, or for amassing wealth.
They genuinely believe that they have a message for the benighted humanity and spend their whole lives in guiding seekers to the illusory kingdom of heaven.
In the second category there is a multitude: all the priests and preachers, money-minded saints and the fraudsters, tricksters, molesters and the political saints. Some of these are very suave and intelligent.
Current examples: Sai Baba, Asaram Bapu, Sudhanshu ji Maharaj, Maa Amritananda Mayi, Deepak Chopra, Benny Hinn, Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev, Kanchi Sankaracharya, the Pope, and so on...
There is a third category: of deluded egoist folks who think they are quite evolved and many people indeed take them to be enlightened but they fall short of the highest standards in this sphere.
Examples are Swami Vivekananda, UG Krishnamurti, John de Ruiter, Adi da Samraj, Srila Prabhupada, S N Goenka etc.
Most non-serious seekers fall into the trap of the tricksters. Most serious seekers get stuck in the third category. The lucky few find a first category teacher.
It is comparatively easy to break free of a second or third category teacher, one can find the truth about them soon enough and get tired of them, but it is extremely difficult to break free of a first category teacher because he truly believes himself to be God (or a messenger of God).
The first category teachers inspire generations of seekers to give up everything in their search for truth.
As people get disenchanted with the material pursuits and the associated stresses, spiritual salvation seems the only alternative. It takes many years for one to traverse the terrain. The rare few who become enlightened or think they have evolved enough become evangelists or teachers themselves.
The others, who cannot break through, either become bitter or resigned to their lot. Some of them think that maybe in the next life they will achieve the breakthrough.
It takes a lot of energy to go on a quest about life. Repeated failures drain one's energy. But one must not give up. Even if it means dumping spirituality as a whole into the dustbin and starting afresh.
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