Sharper AI wit and duller human brains

 

In an automated and mechanized world it’s not about good and bad; it’s primarily about good, better and best—strictly in terms of numbers. The entire moral façade crumbles and the vast potential of our fabulous brain is as much within the reach of the evil as it’s available for the good. With the equation of good and bad sidelined, the human race enters a hazardous zone. The quest for betterment, for more efficiency bypasses the check-dams of morality and ethics. It’s a blind race for achieving more and more material gains at any cost. When there is no consideration for the costs that we have to pay, we naturally cross the balance sheet. We then beat even the nature in hatching disasters and hazards.

We fly too high in the eternal quest for more and more conveniences and better and better products. In the unrelenting quest we burn our wings and fall down. The unreined and unchecked impulse to go for betterment in every sphere of life churns out such models of production and social norms that come with open-ended potential. These seem to facilitate a process but carry an equal amount of potential for multiple adverse effects that require solutions. For example, artificial intelligence will of course churn out interesting and more and more media content, but it will put challenges in the form of manipulated synthetic media content and deepfakes. For the latter we need more and more technologies to manage the fallouts. After a time, it becomes very difficult to tell whether we are creating more problems or solutions. The confusion results in a melee. Just mere exhaustion and tiredness born of the relentless march makes us believe that we are progressing. While in reality we are simply throwing arms in darkness, caught in the web of our creation, like an over-smart spider spinning a castle of web and then forgetting the way out.

Imperilled democracies

 Capitalism was one of the hands -- that too indirectly -- which pulled the strings of the puppet of democracy. Of late capitalists have begun to pull the strings -- directly. Individual powerful capitalists now are a parallel force in the world's largest and strongest democracies. Democracy is now more or less capitalist democracy. Well, when the entire world becomes a bazaar, and tariffs and profiteering become the geostrategic forces, the world will have major upheavals. Other democracies will be stretched thin in the wake of this reshaping of the two major democracies: India and the USA. Against this background, communist capitalism will be viewed in new light. It might be viewed as far more normal than it has been so far by the world outside the iron curtain. It will no longer be an anathema merely on ideological ground. Democracies will possibly lose the high moral platform from where they have been taking potshots at the communist China. There will be more practical judgment of China and its system of governance. Basically the greed for power, money and authority carries the same muscles, bones and tissues under the varying skins of political ideologies and systems.

Now the sun of blind profiteering will tan all types of skins in the same colour. 

We get bored with what we have possessed for a long time. So don't get too surprised if the equations get reversed in future: democracies taking to communism and communists trying democracy. 😀

Honoring the dynamics of life in others

 

There is an age-old proverb in the villages. Making a child laugh and playful might not earn you a good name, but if she cries while under your care, it will surely earn you a bad name. Negative experiences leave a far bigger impact on us than the positive ones. One sour word very easily undoes the sweetness of hundreds of beautiful words. This proclivity to lock the ‘negative’ in our mind while filtering out hundreds of ‘positives’ is the cause of strife, tension, anxiety and discomfort within. It also very easily sours relationships.

We simply judge people for the ‘exceptions’ in their behavior, ignoring the common ‘mundanities’ of their demeanor. We simply catch the black dot on the otherwise white board. It even seems that we are operating as watchdogs looking and sniffing for the chinks in the walls. I sometimes wonder whether we are actually companions while walking with someone or are we spies going with a mission to catch the other person on the wrong foot. No wonder we feel so vulnerable and insecure most of the time. A spy on a secretive mission will of course be on his toes and full of tension.

It becomes so easy to blame others for all the problems in our lives. But why would we always go searching for the tiny black dot on a white canvas? Why would we simply forget the rest of the white sheet? We are always looking, peeking, searching for those chinks in the armor. It just shows how insecure we are. What breeds this insecurity? It’s caused by the conflicts squirming inside us: the friction caused by our quest for the eternal ease of ‘being’ and the poor ‘becoming’ that we are molded into by conditioning, roles, stereotypes, expectations.

Most of the time we are self-charged on the grand mission of aggravating our own miseries. We are suitably helped all along by our ability to hold onto the master illusion that others are responsible for all the shit flying around in our lives.

We are always pulled in two directions. Then we get scared. We are a scared species. We put the blame on others in order to somehow clear our guilt for not being what we are supposed to be. To have that conflict-free ease of being, we have to learn to retain our vision spread out to still see the surrounding white even though the black dots appear here and there. We have to accept and view situations and people in totality. We have to accept this law that an all-white scenario is impossible to sustain as per the laws of nature. It’s a dynamic canvas. Things and people change and shift in shape, size and color. They aren’t stones that they will retain the same appearance. They aren’t dead. They too are evolving and growing, shifting and changing as much as we are doing the same.

It’s very easy to theoretically discuss, write and understand this fact. But it’s very difficult to bring it into practice. Anything that requires rewiring the habitual network needs a regular exercise. So we can remind ourselves regularly that people aren’t stone idols cast in the mold of our expectations. They are an evolving life. They will grow and change and come out of the mold we have created for them to fit our needs and desires. Accept this fluidity and sanctity of change in a living form and most of the judgments will drop of their own. We then accept the black dots on a white canvas.

 

The flow of life

 

Making love, a mere repetition; falling in love, a mere repetition; falling out of love, a mere repetition; doing this, a mere repetition; doing that, a mere repetition. I think we are creatures of repetition. And repetition is primarily born of habits. So most of the things we do are the results of habits. Why do we form habits? Possibly because we feel safe. And why do we crave to be safe? Maybe because we have fears. Well, then even fear might be a habit of the mind.

The moment we allow ourselves to be driven by the habits, we limit ourselves to a customized social unit, for our own safety. The society too feels safe when it sees fine creatures of habit swarming around. Habits define a safe zone around us. They breed convenience and that’s why we hanker after them. They define and limit us and give us a false promise that we will be happy in that little zone. But very soon we find that the happiness born of mere conveniences hardly brings juice and joy to life. It’s dry. We still feel something is missing even though we adopt more and more habits to erect sounder structures of safety around us.

The human spirit wants to fly and habits are the chains. It wants to be free. But habits hold it back. When we set out to chart out our own path, we have to break the mold of habits. Habits clip our wings. They condition us, limit our potential. We have to do everything in a way that it doesn’t turn a habit. Then whatever we do is an ode to the present. It’s open ended and creative in nature. We create and move on. The past doesn’t drag us. The future doesn’t make false promises. We flow. We fly. We live.

The spiritual passion of Tibetan Buddhists

 Tibetan Buddhism is one of the most pristinely preserved belief systems. There was a time when every Tibetan family had a full monk or nun devoted to keep the lineage going. Tibet had more monks than soldiers. Imagine the spiritual depth of this vast land during those times. Then tragedy struck. Atheist China puts a big challenge for the Tibetans to preserve their unique culture and religion. Scattered over different countries in tiny communities, Tibetans still hold onto their faith with devotional perseverance. 

I know a few lovely Tibetan Buddhist sadhaks, one of them a deeply spiritually imbued woman sadhak. A good friend.  She was out of radar for three years and I was worried about her...today it came as a relief to know that she was ok...she was in a remote cave in a totally uninhabited part of Ladhak...she carried all her basic provisions on 6 pack horses and trekked for one full day to reach this cave...and meditated here for three years, in complete isolation...I am amazed at the spiritual passion of Tibetan Buddhists to maintain their legacy 😮 it's a vast domain of asoteric, mystical practices. I myself don't believe in extreme austerity on the path of religion and believe in Buddha's middle path, but I respect such honest seeking from someone on the path of realising the true Self. This is the view from her spiritual hideout somewhere in Zanskar, Ladhak.

God's child playing

 What happened in the past was relevant, if not altogether apparently good...it involved some learning...some evolution that needed some closed setup within challenging situations... And as you came out and took tentative steps toward healing was also good...a flow after the stay and stagnation...all was well..all is well...all that will happen will also be good...the tough episodes are Mother Nature's indirect means to give us a gentle shove to nudge us to step out of the situational and psychological constraints and see more of life and living in this beautiful, exotic chaos of cosmos where we have to fix a few random pieces to make a meaningful life, to feel relevant, to be loved, to love, to live..go and pick your pieces of your sovereign choice...make anything you want... that's your making, your independent free will...the random pieces lying around have infinite permutations and combinations and hence you have the limitless potential to create. As a maker of something lovely and specific and beautiful you serve as an arm of God even though you are His children. Run on the beach of creation and play in the sands and give shape to all your imaginations: a castle, house, animals, birds, machines, vehicle, anything. It will be there as you play with childlike joy. Of course Father sea will surge His waves to wipe it clean for all the future children to play on a clean sandy beach. But till the high tide washes you and your creations into the bosom of the sea, play you have to with full enthusiasm.

The dance of life

 Fullest expansion is painless dissolution. Fullest being is non-being itself. A life harnessed to the full is griefless death. Isn't a tree just mother earth expanding and this air merely further expansion of the tree? Live and blossom so fully that you explode with ecstasy instead of burning to painful oblivion. And what are the fuels of this painful burning? These are the things that hold us back, preventing our fullest expansion. Fear is the primary roadblock. It breeds many other offshoots like anger, hate, jealousy, greed, judgements. Smile, laugh and explode with ecstasy like she does!

The petty neighborhood tyrants

Fight for a kingdom and be a king. That's your 'right' beyond the debate of moralistic right or wrong. But remember kingdoms have their consequences. It's very natural for the kings to be killed by their own sons. Just a natural consequence. You hand over the lust for unrestricted power to your son. He will be a worthy inheritor of your legacy and would dethrone you on the chessboard of power when he comes of age. 

In the same vein, if you have been lucky to have official powers and privileges -- for which you get paid and are expected to do your service strictly as per the contract-- you will sometimes get an itch to set-up a mini-kingdom by going out of your domain and misuse your power and privileges for unjustified gains. That of course is also your right. But remember your son will inherit the same mini-kingdom of misuse of your privileges beyond your official domain. He will dethrone you when his time comes. He will also kill you to occupy the little throne that you have set up by inflicting injustice through the misuse of your powers and capabilities. He may not slit your throat directly but will definitely do it indirectly. He won't respect you, he would be indisciplined and you will see your little kingdom falling apart under his erratic lifestyle. That is as good as a son killing his father. Again it's not about right or wrong. Simply cause and effect. 

The more you 'make' as an angry, arrogant and violent person, the more you expose yourself to be 'broken' by the bigger forces of similar nature. And the rot begins at home, remember this. Again, simple cause and effect. Nature doesn't operate on moralistic principles. It's only about what you are doing at what frequency. Life will give you back a hundredfold of exactly what you are investing in the same currency. If it's arrogance, ego, greed that propels you, the trajectory of your life will be defined by the same factors. Keep fighting. When will you ever stop? And if petty, tyrannical fights of this nature make you feel like a soldier, it's a nice cover for the demons inside to be decorated with honorable military dress.

If you see yourself in this write-up and get angry then I'm sorry. As a writer, I just hold a mirror in front of the reader. What you see in that is your own making, your own labour. If you don't like the image that stares back at you, change it. If not, keep the angry fight till your last breath. You may achieve anything but not peace. 

Imperfection: a stepping stone to perfection

 

I think we can avoid abusing the things that keep us alive, that give us this day, that shape our life (in whatever shape it might be). Whatever the texture, shape and structure, it still is our life. It’s still a flower (even if it’s badly mauled and ruffled by the circumstances) and it still belongs to the genre called ‘life’. And the manifestation as a ‘life’ is an incentive by default. We are manifested and still get a chance to evolve and manifest more. A blade of grass manifesting its life in famished desert sands is as important as a luxurious devdar in rich, salubrious, rain-fed hills.

This body, parents, siblings, friends, partners, deities, everything in fact has been responsible for this life that we see defining us at the moment. Irrespective of what we think of them presently, didn’t they touch our lives positively and meaningfully when we needed them or crossed path with them? Please recall that spark and excitement when we initially met them!

We meet people on the way and move on and meet new people further on the way. That doesn’t mean that the ones left behind were bad and the new ones arriving in life are better. They are equally good or bad. Everyone is equally imperfect, but even with their imperfections they have something to offer to us and we to them, which shapes one phase of the journey. They are the ones who get us to a point of being positively touched by the newer people.

If I judge those who were left behind, it would be like condemning the lower steps on a ladder after getting to the higher ones. Would we have reached the top step—for example, reaching a stage of finding an ideal soul mate—if not for those nice lower steps, those lovely people with whom we broke up in the past? The relationships are like a ladder. It’s a journey basically. Different people that we meet are beautiful, strong steps on the ladder that bear the weight of our feet and help us take the next step. And we are just the same to them. We too were low at the time when we met them and that’s why we stepped on that rung and found it helpful. So did they.

All steps, lower and higher, are equally important. All the people we connect with, all relationships, all situations and experiences are various steps on the ladder. The problem is that we judge them vertically like a ladder standing upright, in terms of high and low, good and bad. Life isn’t a vertical ladder. It’s multidimensional in nature. It unfolds in layers. All the people that we meet are equally high and low at various points. So honor the people that came along the way. They have given us this life as we see it now. We can avoid abusing these various steps on the ladder of life.

Acceptance of the uncontrollables in life and gratitude for what is done (ignoring what wasn’t done) save us from abusing the things, situations and people who have helped us live one way or the other. Respecting them is as good as respecting life.

The unknown graves of Sufism and a Sufi Shahjada

Humayun's tomb was built by his wife Hamida Bano Begum...I like this emperor because he died in his library, not the bloodied battlefield. And his mausoleum is a beautiful precursor to the great Taj Mahal. The grand beauty of Taj doesn't stand in abstract and doesn't sprout on its own. This modestly grand tomb is the inspiration behind the majestic Taj. You can say it's Taj Mahal in infancy. 

Made mostly of red sand stone, with thin marble inlays, it contains many structures (containing about 150 graves in 60 chambers) within the sprawling complex. It's a mosaic of architectural styles blending Rajput and Iranian styles such as jharokhe (windows), projections of the entrance, arches having elephant trunks, arches having circular medallions. Interestingly, there is a structure named Bu Halima, probably named after a famous Arab dancer. 

Had Dara Shikhon, the Sufi Shajada, become the emperor of India, he would have been a great Sufi, philosopher and King combined in the rarest of a rare combination. To understand Upnashids and translate them in Persian one has to be the master of soul as well as languages. I'm mesmerized looking at his massive commentary on Upanishads... This is something phenomenal... simply out of this world.

 

His life is a testament to the fact that it's possible to be 'a prince with esteemed spiritual values'. A unique royal personality, he tried to walk on the unorthodox bridge between the royal palace and the Sufi Khanqah. He possessed keen interest in Hindu thought and philosophy and in pursuit of that interest he commissioned translation of many Hindu sacred texts into Persian. 

 

A prolific writer he chronicled the life of 400 Sufi saints in his work Sufinat-ul-Aulia. In another work named Risala-i-Haq Nama he sets up a treatise on the path to the divine. In Hasanat-ul-Arifin he delves into Hindu thought through Ramayana and Krishna stories. Most importantly, his translation of Upanishads into Persian shows the depth of his soul and vastness of his mind. The beloved prince of the masses believed that Sufis and Hindus share the essential core of mystical truth.

 

Had he become the emperor of India, it would have been a different India altogether. But he was killed by his Islamic zealot brother Aurangzeb who ruled with sword on hardcore communal Islamic principles. The latter left enough communal mud for the current Hindu nationalists to wallow in it for political gain. The voice of sanity and secularism lies buried in one of the dozens of graves in the Humayun tomb complex, unrecognized, unsung. Auragzeb was very punitive towards his secular brother. He buried him in an unknown grave. The historians haven't so far been able to recognize the Sufi prince's cenotaph. I think his grave should be discovered and a separate memorial should be built in memory of this great philosopher prince whose life symbolizes our composite culture.  

Poets of the past....eight centuries back... it's an overpowering feeling to look at their work at the museum ...sooooo impressive...the great poet Amit Khusro's works at the museum.

Amir Khusro's Shirin-o-Khusro (1298-1301) deals with the tragic love story of Emperor Khusro and Armenian princess Shirin. It's a grand feeling to look at a copy at the museum. The ancient book decorated with gold borders in Nastaliq calligraphy by a master calligrapher and containing many illustrations by a master painter. 

Imagine Rumi's 25000 couplets drenched with universality for love and compassion. That was the time when Sufism, the jewel in the crown of Islam, was at its peak. Sufism that stood for unity of faith across various religions, Sufism that was liberal, Sufism that was mystical Islam's loveliest prayer to the Almighty. Unfortunately Sufism too was buried in an unknown grave like Prince Dara by the hardcore, fundamentalist Islam. It would have been a different world had Sufism become the public face of Islam.  

Solitary trail

 A solitary trail...all of us have a solitary trail, our very own...where we are face to face with ourselves. Where the small worldly self walks with the larger Self...where each step is a quantum jump in evolution...where the destination doesn't hark you, you become your own destination. You inhale wellness, you spread your wings, you float...where you get a causeless smile...this trail is available wherever you are situated, even in densely populated cities. You just need to feel it and then follow its alluring call.. seek your solitary trail, own it, stamp your love on it...

A tiny natural design

 A little piece of flawless design in a tiny pool somewhere in the cozy lap of a little valley surrounded by small hills. Nature has its own mystical symmetries. We just imitate poorly. Salutes mother nature. The more I read you, the more I go deeper into your mystical pools.

Melting after full blossoming

Picture 1: It clings and stinks. It doesn't want to give. It dies a painful elongated death. It doesn't surrender to change and holds its youth's bloom in a fist, a constriction, a knot, a stagnation. It will be there till it turns ugly. The glory of its past will be overshadowed by the piteous whine of its present. A painful event stuck up in the loop of time.

Picture 2: It opens up fully. It gives all it has to open up and scatter its still fragrant petals as a homage to gentle winds, balmy afternoon winters and keenly awaiting mother earth. It showers beauty. It's a drizzle of joy. It's not death. This is ecstatic disintegration for the larger integration. A process! A fluidity beyond the constraints of space and time.

The song of a lone tree

The song of a lonely chir pine on an entire hill slope! Not a leave rustles among the scrub forest around. The lonesome pine sings a ditty! But when you are alone, either you sing out of agony or ecstasy. There is no midway melody! I interpret it as a song of ecstasy dedicated to a freshly minted year.

From a hill girl's dressing table

In any case they are rosily fair, the mountain women. But then it's Humanoids' misery for more and more, the relentless driving force. While there are wild hibiscus, not flowering though at this time, here lies the memento, carrying some hill lass's aspiration to shine even more...

A message

On the wayside thistles on a stony footpath scented with karipatta leaves, a tiny signboard harks attention! Solitary journeyman, take up the message and spread it for the common good! Feel the gratitude, here the agent of death Himself is putting up a warning! Can there be a clearer message?

PS: Mother nature has put the Hindi version upface. I take the liberty of turning it over and expose the Eeengleesh one also for the benefit of the so called more educated. Taking the message seriously can be a nice start to a new year!

Timeless peace

Well, not sunny actually! But I see the freshness and verve of the new rays of a new day! Hope and its bright Angels are lurking from behind the greyish veil. Behind the screen there is the sun of love, life and living. The yesterday's wind howled itself to death. Again verifying that peace and calmness are the norms, not storms!

Happy new year - 2025

Wish you all a very happy new year from the land of Krishna...Govardhan greetings for the new year dear friends...let it be a joyful year for you all. Radhe Radhe! Jai Giriraj Govardhan! Hare Rama Hare Krishna!