10 years ago, a relative mentioned that he recently attended a 'pravachana' in Bangalore. During the interaction that followed that lecture, he posed a question to the speaker - a spiritual guru - but did not get a satisfactory answer. The question was: 'If in the beginning, everyone was good, how did evil begin?'. My uncle did not elaborate on or explain the guru's response.
My reactions to my uncle's experience were varied:
One, I felt defeated because this question had been bothering since I was a 12-13 year old and I assumed then that I was the only person who thought about this and was waiting for the right opportunity and right person to pose this question to. In fact, after a few years I was convinced that nobody could answer this question and finally I would be the first one to do so. So naturally I was disappointed that not only I wasn't the only one thinking about this, but the cat was already out of the bag.
Two, I felt relieved that a burden was off my shoulders. Also, by then - I was 25 then - a bit of maturity had crept in with the knowledge that my knowledge was insignificant in the whole scheme of things.
Three, I felt tempted to begin a debate with my uncle on the definition of 'satisfactory reply' on subjectivity. But then doing so would be self-defeating in the first place.
Four, I was bemused and a bit irritated that (in fact I still get irritated) people who attend seminars and conferences and lectures on some really complex and wide topics ask questions with the audacity that they are going to find a response. Moreover, the person answering the question too tries to defend himself. A brief argument ensues and ultimately everyone breaks for tea/ lunch/ dinner with the asker trying to gain a few points with his circle and the answerer doing the same at the other end of the dinner hall. The question and answer can go to hell!
Anyway, coming back to the topic of this post, I am now 36, more cynical, yet more clear in my thoughts than I ever was. My perspective has hopefully become wider and I believe that I am somewhat closer to finding some sort of an answer to the question. If anything, I have realised that it was a trick question - a question that tricked the asker himself! A question that appeared so right, so innocent on the first listening. A question, which itself needed to be questioned to get the right answer.
Last year I attended the monthly 'Sahitya Chavadi' at Kalasuruchi, Mysore. The topic was 'influence of Sanskrit on Kannada'. There were two parallel-discussions that caught my ear. One was the 'fact' that Sanskrit was the mother of all languages. The other was the mutual contribution between Indian languages and Sanskrit. I finally managed to express my thoughts on this and this is what I said:
One, that Sanskrit's motherhood is not beyond doubt. My analysis was this: if we go by etymology, Sans-krit would mean 'composite', 'formed by composite factors', 'refined'. To explain this, I gave the example of Pra-krit, which according to my limited knowledge would mean 'formed naturally', 'primordial' , 'original' or 'unpolished'. So, was Pra-krit the original and Sans-krit a composite result of modern influences?
Two, is it possible that Sanskrit was the English of the past? In other words, just like the English language has borrowed so much from so many languages and in the process not only enriched itself, but also got a bit 'Indianised', 'Arabised', 'Japanised'.
My argument was this: Sanskriti (culture) is refined, composite and modified while Prakriti (nature) is raw, primitive and pristine. Similarly, Sanskrit as a language can never be the mother of all languages. That title belongs to Prakrit. Sanskrit's surely has a relationship with other languages - Sanskrit is a child born of Prakrit and brought up by other languages belonging to the Indo-European family.
How is my Kalasuruchi experience related to the topic of this blog? Well, I consider anything associated with civilization and culture to be recent, refined and composite - something like an acquired taste or acquired habit. Anything associated with nature is primordial (even primal), primitive, ancient and virgin.
Therefore behaviour like carnality, incest, fratricide, patricide, greed, selfishness are all basic, primal, natural forces.
Behaviour like etiquette, monogamy, temperance, selflessness, humanity are all refined, recent and acquired shields.
Although I would never ever condone laziness, tardiness, dishonesty, I ask the following questions - mostly to myself:
Is civilization a double edged sword? Is being civilized attractive in the short term, but disastrous in the longer run?
Is culture and civilization harming man and the nature in which he lives by forcing him to behave in an unnatural way?
As a trekker, I constantly interact with like-minded trekkers, most of whom have admitted feeling safer in the jungle than in our cities. Truth be told, even the most ferocious wild animal is not only extremely elusive and shy, it would never harm, leave alone kill, without an extremely compelling reason. Unlike humans.
So, are we increasingly becoming dangerous creatures by suppressing our natural instincts? We all know how a repressed child (who is not allowed to express his or her spontaneity in childhood) would evolve into an extremely violent psychopath or a total misfit as an adult.
Recently I read an article in a newspaper on how the French enjoy healthier marriages because they allow their spouses some freedom to enjoy an extra-marital affair. Their rationale being that humans are promiscuous by nature. A little physical intimacy beyond marriage goes a long way in smoothing frustrations and adding the little bit of spice and diversion that would ultimately strengthen the bond of matrimony.
Anyway, as always I hope I have raised questions.
My reactions to my uncle's experience were varied:
One, I felt defeated because this question had been bothering since I was a 12-13 year old and I assumed then that I was the only person who thought about this and was waiting for the right opportunity and right person to pose this question to. In fact, after a few years I was convinced that nobody could answer this question and finally I would be the first one to do so. So naturally I was disappointed that not only I wasn't the only one thinking about this, but the cat was already out of the bag.
Two, I felt relieved that a burden was off my shoulders. Also, by then - I was 25 then - a bit of maturity had crept in with the knowledge that my knowledge was insignificant in the whole scheme of things.
Three, I felt tempted to begin a debate with my uncle on the definition of 'satisfactory reply' on subjectivity. But then doing so would be self-defeating in the first place.
Four, I was bemused and a bit irritated that (in fact I still get irritated) people who attend seminars and conferences and lectures on some really complex and wide topics ask questions with the audacity that they are going to find a response. Moreover, the person answering the question too tries to defend himself. A brief argument ensues and ultimately everyone breaks for tea/ lunch/ dinner with the asker trying to gain a few points with his circle and the answerer doing the same at the other end of the dinner hall. The question and answer can go to hell!
Anyway, coming back to the topic of this post, I am now 36, more cynical, yet more clear in my thoughts than I ever was. My perspective has hopefully become wider and I believe that I am somewhat closer to finding some sort of an answer to the question. If anything, I have realised that it was a trick question - a question that tricked the asker himself! A question that appeared so right, so innocent on the first listening. A question, which itself needed to be questioned to get the right answer.
Last year I attended the monthly 'Sahitya Chavadi' at Kalasuruchi, Mysore. The topic was 'influence of Sanskrit on Kannada'. There were two parallel-discussions that caught my ear. One was the 'fact' that Sanskrit was the mother of all languages. The other was the mutual contribution between Indian languages and Sanskrit. I finally managed to express my thoughts on this and this is what I said:
One, that Sanskrit's motherhood is not beyond doubt. My analysis was this: if we go by etymology, Sans-krit would mean 'composite', 'formed by composite factors', 'refined'. To explain this, I gave the example of Pra-krit, which according to my limited knowledge would mean 'formed naturally', 'primordial' , 'original' or 'unpolished'. So, was Pra-krit the original and Sans-krit a composite result of modern influences?
Two, is it possible that Sanskrit was the English of the past? In other words, just like the English language has borrowed so much from so many languages and in the process not only enriched itself, but also got a bit 'Indianised', 'Arabised', 'Japanised'.
My argument was this: Sanskriti (culture) is refined, composite and modified while Prakriti (nature) is raw, primitive and pristine. Similarly, Sanskrit as a language can never be the mother of all languages. That title belongs to Prakrit. Sanskrit's surely has a relationship with other languages - Sanskrit is a child born of Prakrit and brought up by other languages belonging to the Indo-European family.
How is my Kalasuruchi experience related to the topic of this blog? Well, I consider anything associated with civilization and culture to be recent, refined and composite - something like an acquired taste or acquired habit. Anything associated with nature is primordial (even primal), primitive, ancient and virgin.
Therefore behaviour like carnality, incest, fratricide, patricide, greed, selfishness are all basic, primal, natural forces.
Behaviour like etiquette, monogamy, temperance, selflessness, humanity are all refined, recent and acquired shields.
Although I would never ever condone laziness, tardiness, dishonesty, I ask the following questions - mostly to myself:
Is civilization a double edged sword? Is being civilized attractive in the short term, but disastrous in the longer run?
Is culture and civilization harming man and the nature in which he lives by forcing him to behave in an unnatural way?
As a trekker, I constantly interact with like-minded trekkers, most of whom have admitted feeling safer in the jungle than in our cities. Truth be told, even the most ferocious wild animal is not only extremely elusive and shy, it would never harm, leave alone kill, without an extremely compelling reason. Unlike humans.
So, are we increasingly becoming dangerous creatures by suppressing our natural instincts? We all know how a repressed child (who is not allowed to express his or her spontaneity in childhood) would evolve into an extremely violent psychopath or a total misfit as an adult.
Recently I read an article in a newspaper on how the French enjoy healthier marriages because they allow their spouses some freedom to enjoy an extra-marital affair. Their rationale being that humans are promiscuous by nature. A little physical intimacy beyond marriage goes a long way in smoothing frustrations and adding the little bit of spice and diversion that would ultimately strengthen the bond of matrimony.
Anyway, as always I hope I have raised questions.
