Tag: Philosophy

🌲🌳🌴🎋Magic So Sublime 🌲🌳🌴🎋

“Do you see anything dramatically different today?” I quizzed the husband. He looked around him. We were standing outside the home before setting off on a walk. He looked blank, looked around, and then settled for his safe-bet. “Did you cut your hair? It looks good!”

I rolled my eyes. Honestly! 

“Nice try, but no!” Then, taking pity on him, I gave him a hint. “It is more to do with the immediate surroundings.”

He paused, looking up at the roof. Yesterday’s rains had us both rattled a bit. It isn’t often that we get up to the sounds of heavy rains lashing against our windows. It is a beautiful sensation, but a little fraught for us this time, since the last time, we found a pool of water had managed to seep in. This, after the roof repairman had stomped on the ceiling repairing things for sometime already. 

“Not the roof either! Look at the flora and fauna.” I said.

“Ahh – okay – that is easy.” Then went on to gabble on about flowers blooming, some plant surviving till I stopped his rambling, and said, “It is okay to give up, you know?”  

Then, with a dramatic flair, I pointed to the cherry blossom tree that only a day ago was fully white filled with blossoms. To be fair, I did not see it while it was raining. But one day later, it was there fully clothed in fresh green leaves – not traces of the tree in full bloom from just a day ago. 

How I wish the tree would tell us when it would do this? I would love to just set up a time-lapse video and sit watching it in slow rapture. When do you think the leaves actually sprout? Has anybody actually seen a leaf grow? This has to be some of the most sublime magic on the planet. 

🌸🌸🌸 Oubaitori in Spring Time 🌸🌸🌸

I felt a pang for the beautiful blooms of that tree – gone so quickly and completely, and then remembered that a month ago, it was bereft – a tree in abscission. Beautiful in its starkness, then resplendent in its white blossoms, and now lovely in its fresh greens. It is no wonder that cherry blossoms have captured the hearts and minds of philosophers for centuries – the simple lessons of enjoying the beauty of the moment, the oubaitori to bloom and sprout at your own pace.

A Reflection of The Rise and Fall of Tech Trends

Rise and Fall of Trends

“Well – sorry! That was a waste of time!” I said, looking a little sheepish. I had meandered through the walk with half-formed thoughts. Then I realized I had probably done what my writing process looks like – out loud. I had a vague nebulous idea and it sounded brilliant in my head, and by the time the walk was done, only a loving listener could have endured. Without the benefit of editing and moving sentences for clarity, it sounded terrible. When a friend suggested that I dictate my thoughts out to a vocal tonal converter, I was skeptical. Maybe this would become the next big thing, or it may be one of those things that fade out like the CD player (all the rage while it lasted and then sunk without longing)  

“In technology, buzzwords think they are all about being cool, but it really is just plain confusing! “ I said. “Really, two years ago, you thought you were a damp squib if you didn’t know this-or-that, now it is Agentic-AI-this and Kool-Aiding-AI-that.” 

Technology, Companies Vs Longevity 

The husband and I were discussing the rise and fall of great companies, right after the rise and fall of technological trends. It all started with the husband referring to a term that was popular all of two years ago, and was waning in popularity now, and I had blabbered on.

Tell the husband something like this, and he would launch into one of his explanations. I zoned out. We were out on a walk, and all of nature seemed to share a secret that we had long forgotten. There was more to life than technological advances. With technology, everything seemed to just become faster, and faster. The deer did not seem to have any of these problems. The river bank was green with grass after all. The next generation of deer probably just wish for the same thing: Give us green grass pastures and some space in which to raise our young.

Why were human-beings so finicky?

Book on reawakening after ages

“You know I cannot understand all these people who want to live forever and all that. I can barely keep up with the trends from yesteryear – why would you constantly feel like you have FOMO?” I said, invoking one of the terms of the college-going daughter (FOMO – Fear Of Missing Out).

I told him about a novelette I read recently, in which the hero and his family awoke after centuries and tried to figure out how they were to live. The whole time, I felt disconcerted. I feel disconcerted in rapidly growing cities – visiting after a few years of rapid growth can make you feel strange and lost, even if it was a street in which you roamed without needing maps previously. 

This need for billionaires to go into a cryogenic sleep, so they can revive when it is possible to live forever is a scary one. Would friendships be possible in your woken up world? Wouldn’t you miss your loved ones who accompanied you on your life’s journey?

I am fairly sure if I were to wake up today from just 25 years ago, I would be pretty lost. How to pay for things, how to listen to music, how to read? So many of these fundamental things have changed in the past two decades, imagine two centuries. 

With recent advances in technology, how many of the skills we pride ourselves on today would be obsolete? Art, writing, navigating: they are all up as potential candidates.

I tried explaining all of this to the husband and said, “Maybe there is a point to making the human brain gain clarity, but do you think we’d be any better?” I wondered how much longer I could go on walking – it was a beautiful night with breeze and stars after all.

The husband, wily man that he is, said with a smile, “Aah – another topic for another walk. Come in now!” and dragged me inside. Foiled in my ploy to take a longer walk. Again.

The Meaning of a Good Life

We went to visit our old school haunt – the home of our school days, and some of the best memories. If there is a utopia, I’d like to think it is very much like that place. There was plenty of ‘real’ life there too – It was by no means devoid of pain or jealousies or strife or suffering, but life still felt full of promise. Like the universe was conspiring and preparing us for a fantastic future. Maybe it was the optimism of youth, maybe it was the collective talent of the folks around us, or just the marvelous eucalyptus scented air around us in a beautiful location in the Nilgiri Hills.

Of course, one cannot help feeling like you’ve let down the school quite a bit, but what can you do? Luckily, most of our teachers have retired, but I felt I could feel their encouraging presence at every science lab and every playground. 

A visit there at this stage in life though, revitalized me in ways I did not comprehend till I had the quiet and solitude to mull things over after coming back to the USA. “You can still do a great many small things to make things better for the world around you, couldn’t you?”, a small voice whispered in my ears. Maybe after all these decades of striving, that is what you come to realize. That, as Mother Teresa said, there is greatness in small acts:

“Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”. – Mother Teresa

I asked my father what he thought at the time – he was a teacher there. Did he think any of his students would go on to win the Nobel Prize, or the Booker Prize or become the Finance Minister or make it big in the field of Arts/Drama/Acting?

He said that the markings of greatness were visible in few children at such a young age. Mostly, it was the potential that excited the teachers. You ask the pater a question, and he can turn it into an impromptu speech within seconds. So, I wrapped up and set off on a walk while talking to him. Always the best thing to do. He said,

To rephrase Shakespeare:

Some people are born into greatness, some acquire greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

In good schools with well to do parents (by that I mean parents who not only have the means but also the interest to invest in the success and achievements of their children), many children belong to the first category. Success is expected of them, and the tools are there for the taking. Barring any major life events or health issues, these children can build a life for themselves – that is not to say there isn’t struggle. For those very expectations of greatness can be a burden to overcome.

The second category of talent comes up despite their circumstances – the distance they go in life, the differential between where they started and where they end up is the yardstick for their success. Many children from modest means who go onto achieve success belong to this category.

The last and final category can come from either of the categories above – but these people are tested beyond what normal people endure. Their hurdles are frequent, gargantuan and any progress they make is a success in and of itself. Health issues, career issues or relationship issues (sometimes all three) test them. Many break under the stress and strain of it, but those who are thrust into greatness endure, secure in their understanding that small victories and sustained mindsets often tide them over better.

Many are the stories and epics written about these characters. But more importantly, we all know friends and family in this category. Even if it isn’t obvious, even if we aren’s writing songs about them, they are truly heroes of their stories. Being a stable parent in a tumultuous relationship, navigating health hurdles, being a steady breadwinner through times of economic upheavals, being a steady person when all around you have lost their minds – that is their greatness.

IF – By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you   

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too; 

…

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Or more along the lines of: You’ll be a Human-being, my child!

The evening was drawing cold, and I knew I had to cut my walk short, even as I mulled on the father’s answer. Making the best of things, and Never Give In were the things they taught apart from Languages, Mathematics, Arts, Sports, Sciences and History. For those it served well, it was heartening that it had, and for those that it hadn’t, well there was still hope that they would learn to do so. That, right there, was the philosophy of a teacher in one grand stroke.

The walk made me reflect on two of my favorite speeches:

On The Importance of Failure and Imagination – By J K Rowling

Harvard’s 80 year old Study on Happiness and Success (Harvard Study Article)

Greatness is something we are told to pursue, without properly knowing what it means, at a young age. For many, the pursuit of a living (and maybe fame or renown) occupies time and energy. But life is far more complicated and richer than that. It means good and close relationships with family and friends, good health, good wealth, good pursuits (intellectual, spiritual and physical), purposeful work, the ability to feel joy, and so much more.

Maybe this is why school reunions and such are planned at a certain stage in life. The environs can stimulate thoughts and spur us on towards growth and meaning.

Numinous Navarathris

Navarathri

The Navarathri season is behind us. That is to say, the garba dances, the spontaneous bursting into carnatic music, classical dancers getting their Vijayadashami classes, the crowded shamiyana’s with pujo crowds, the golu hoppers, and the first wave of festive wear for the fall season is all behind us. The statues that got to come out and get put on display are all wrapped up, and put away in their cozy confines for another year.

There are many golu aspirants who raise the bar every time. One particular household we enjoy has a side-show gleaming with inventive playfulness. In every golu display there are stories jostling on the orderly steps waiting to be told, but skipped over – possibly waiting for the next year. For there is too much going on for dolls and their stories to be told and listened to. I can imagine and appreciate the whimsical nature of life wanting to be preserved as tradition. Then again, for a country such as India, there is rarely the time for slow pursuits such as mythical story telling sessions over long evenings these days. What was earmarked for that, has morphed into rushed sessions, oodles of food, music and dance bursting at every corner, and like life itself the dolls with the good stories sit quietly – watching, waiting their turn. Ready to amuse, educate and entertain if asked, but purely on stand-by.

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The Golu Tradition

Golu – as the tradition of the display of dolls is known, is rumored to have started in the 14th Century during the height of the Vijayanagara empire. The royal families of the era particularly around the Thanjavur region were taken in by the opportunity to display their dolls, host gatherings, etc. Slowly, they had musicians and dancers from the local temples over for performances, and it became a time when children were initiated into the Arts. Vijayadashami  became a day of artistic beginnings and blessings. 

In many of the homes we visit, we hear stories of the dolls being passed down from generation to generation. One friend told me that her vegetable set came from her great grandmother – handed down to her grandmother, who brought it to the US in the 60’s, and then passed it to her mother and how she plans to give it to her own daughter one day. I peered at the misshapen vegetables and felt a stirring for why the tradition appeals to so many. There were no perfectly preserved, larger models there. The vegetables had warped surfaces much like the farmers of the time might have produced them, and an artist had rendered them with the best clays and paints available to them. The greens were greener than the vegetables could achieve, and the reds made them look like they were blushing. Very fetching.

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Why tradition settled on 9 days for Navarathri, I am not sure. But I presume it had something to do with the agricultural cycles of the time. A lull in the work periods between harvest and planting cycles when the plants were at their strongest, and therefore a time for a bit of fun.

What I Wish It Could Be

As a child, I longed to take the golu dolls down from their shelves to play with. But of course, we weren’t allowed to do so. My own grandmother had given them to my mother. It seemed so pointless to have this many dolls all sitting there, waiting to be played with, but out of reach. This many stories waiting to be enacted. We were only ever to touch them the day they were taken out, or the day they were wrapped back in old newspaper and stowed away. A touch of pathos about the way they’d have to nestle back into the wooden crates in the old garden shed about them.

It has been a dear wish of mine to one day make a puppet based theatrical show of this. You know – properly make the dolls come alive, hop off their little shelves, and have them enact their stories. Vishnu’s avatars don’t need another year of standing there – they need to be out there telling you how much one ought to be doing in the face of evil vying and holding power. So what if you have to impersonate half a lion or a fish or turtle for noble purposes? That would be an apt election-time story wouldn’t it?

Make a funny skit or two about how the demon Ghatodgajjan ate his way through the season, or the din to wake Ravana’s brother, Kumbhakarna from his 6-month slumber to fight the war in the Ramayana. Enact the wars with paper mache swords, and bubblegum shaped missiles that could be eaten afterward. That would be cool.

A silly song about the cricket playing Ganesha statues maybe?

Wrap the session with all the Lakshmis being totally brave, daring, intelligent and charming. That would be brilliant.

A Cloudy Haze & Musings of Maya

Maya : All is Maya

“An abstract morning, isn’t it?” I said yawning.

“What do you mean?”, said the husband giving me a sharp look. It was a bit early for a chat especially when he had Reel-ing to do. (Watching instagram reels, you-tube shorts etc, not merely reeling from the effects of them)

“Cloudy mornings are like that. The reality is a bit muted. As though allowing us the luxury of examining reality through the haze of clouds and mists.”

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He sighed and put down his phone. He clearly wasn’t getting his reality of watching inane reels and cackling at the virtual reality shock-fest it offered.

“Well – you know it feels like you can stop and look at the world, examine and ponder the reality of the world. The excitement it can have without actually doing it on a morning like this.”

Nervous or Excited?

“Did you know? Apparently, when they interview Olympic athletes and ask them if they are nervous before a match or race, they say they are excited.”

“Happy to latch on to something concrete, are you?” I said moving away from the world of Maya.

He grinned.

“Well – maybe they activate the same neural pathways in the brain. Must check it out. They do have similar responses. Adrenaline pumping – making the body ready for the action. “ I said.

“Yes – but maybe Olympic athletes’s brains acknowledging them as excitement rather than nervousness means they perform differently.” He said.

Optimism can be very draining!

The husband is a big sucker for positive thinking and all that lark. The things we have to resort to in order to get him to say he is in pain after playing tennis for days on end, is to be seen to be believed.

“Maybe just sore. ”, he’ll say, wincing.

“Are you in pain? Would you like me to get the Icy Hot balm?”

“Not pain – just a little interesting soreness.”

“You can’t move, can you?”

Laugh.

“Acknowledge you’re in pain, and I’ll get you the Icy Hot.”

“Nope. Never.”

“Fine. Then. Interesting aches do not need medication right?”

“Okay fine – I am pretty sore – can you get me the Icy Hot?”

So it goes.

Optimism! It can be very draining.

Optimism Tales: Goats, Creepers, and Spiders

Optimism as an abstract thought though, that can be entertained. The optimism of goats who make that leap to the tree branch high above, or that creeper that leaps skywards ready to take hold without knowing how, that spider whose web is an architectural marvel – they all must’ve felt optimism to start and stick with their ventures. “Were they excited, nervous? Must interview them and put them on reels so you can find out!” I said sticking my tongue out at him.