Are all men born equal?
Aren’t some born richer than others, more gifted than others, stronger than others, more fortunate than others?
Are all men really born equal?
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
More questions…
What is right and what is wrong?
Who decides what is right and what is wrong?
What is to sin?
Does the end justify the means?
Who decides what is right and what is wrong?
What is to sin?
Does the end justify the means?
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Monday, October 8, 2007
Some questions…
Where have we come from?
Why are we here?
Where do we go to from here?
What is the meaning of our existence?
Is there a Power that controls our lives?
Is there God?
Is there a beginning and an end to Time and Space?
What happens to us after death?
Why are we here?
Where do we go to from here?
What is the meaning of our existence?
Is there a Power that controls our lives?
Is there God?
Is there a beginning and an end to Time and Space?
What happens to us after death?
About religion…
It was the rebellious teen in me that led me to question the existence of God and religion. Rebellious because as a family we were, and my parents still are, fervently religious. We visit temples frequently and have poojas performed from time to time.
It was in Benares, the holy city of the Hindus, that I first witnessed the ugly side of religion. The dying and the dead are brought to this ancient city in order to attain salvation. Consequently, it is a city of suffering and misery. Indeed death is a part of life, something all of us will eventually face. But the image of a dying man, lying almost naked on the street, one leg stretched upwards like rigor mortis had already set in, flies hovering about him, left me numb and has stayed with me after all these years. We passed him by like hundreds of others around us. We tried to ignore him, tried not to look at him. He might have attained the much-pursued salvation, but that could not change the fact that he had died and probably even lived in misery. Next, the attitude of the priests shocked me. They hustled us, screamed at us as we stood in the queue. They offered to help us jump the queue if we paid up a certain amount. We had gone looking for a spiritual experience and we left disturbed and shaken. My belief in religion and its goodness suffered a blow and put me on the path to question.
What is it that led men to form religion (including the ancient pagan ones)? Was it the fear of the unknown, of Nature, of those invisible powers that caused lightings and earthquakes and deluges? I have often wondered if religion has done more good to mankind than bad. It gave the society some rules to live by, but it also gave us wars and bloodshed that continue till date. At times, religion became the means to suppress women and a certain section of the society. It became the weapon of the rich, the educated and the powerful to be used against the poor, the illiterate and the powerless.
Not that I am against religion. It’s up to every individual to make his or her choice. But I sincerely wish that religion be kept out of our public lives. It’s a little to quixotic to say so but I hope religion ceases one day to be a dividing factor in our modern societies. I also believe that religion should not guide our actions and thoughts to such an extent that we lose our faculty of independent thinking. We should learn to question dogmas and let religion evolve with time because morals, values and concepts of good and bad change with time and religion should reflect those changes.
Gandhi used to say that there are as many religions as human beings. So probably it would be wrong to say I have no religion. Mine is that of questioning…
It was in Benares, the holy city of the Hindus, that I first witnessed the ugly side of religion. The dying and the dead are brought to this ancient city in order to attain salvation. Consequently, it is a city of suffering and misery. Indeed death is a part of life, something all of us will eventually face. But the image of a dying man, lying almost naked on the street, one leg stretched upwards like rigor mortis had already set in, flies hovering about him, left me numb and has stayed with me after all these years. We passed him by like hundreds of others around us. We tried to ignore him, tried not to look at him. He might have attained the much-pursued salvation, but that could not change the fact that he had died and probably even lived in misery. Next, the attitude of the priests shocked me. They hustled us, screamed at us as we stood in the queue. They offered to help us jump the queue if we paid up a certain amount. We had gone looking for a spiritual experience and we left disturbed and shaken. My belief in religion and its goodness suffered a blow and put me on the path to question.
What is it that led men to form religion (including the ancient pagan ones)? Was it the fear of the unknown, of Nature, of those invisible powers that caused lightings and earthquakes and deluges? I have often wondered if religion has done more good to mankind than bad. It gave the society some rules to live by, but it also gave us wars and bloodshed that continue till date. At times, religion became the means to suppress women and a certain section of the society. It became the weapon of the rich, the educated and the powerful to be used against the poor, the illiterate and the powerless.
Not that I am against religion. It’s up to every individual to make his or her choice. But I sincerely wish that religion be kept out of our public lives. It’s a little to quixotic to say so but I hope religion ceases one day to be a dividing factor in our modern societies. I also believe that religion should not guide our actions and thoughts to such an extent that we lose our faculty of independent thinking. We should learn to question dogmas and let religion evolve with time because morals, values and concepts of good and bad change with time and religion should reflect those changes.
Gandhi used to say that there are as many religions as human beings. So probably it would be wrong to say I have no religion. Mine is that of questioning…
Exam-time!!!
It’s exam time…
Textbooks long-lost and forgotten, found after several days of excavation in my cupboard.
Hundreds of study time-tables drafted, only to be torn and re-drafted.
(They are never meant to be followed anyway.)
Valiant attempts to study, thwarted by bouts of day-dreaming and telephone calls.
HBO decides to screen a movie I’ve always wanted to see.
Three hours straight down the drain.
Few days to go.
But I still haven’t got much done.
Every single day starts with a resolute determination to study.
And ends with a resolute determination to start over afresh tomorrow.
But as we all know, tomorrow never comes.
When I was in school, my mother gave me Ayurvedic medicines that were supposed to help me concentrate. They probably worked. If I were reading my favourite novel or watching a great movie and if you burst a fire-cracker right under my ear, I wouldn’t realise.
But when I’m studying, for example something thoroughly compelling like Business Regulatory Framework, even a pigeon on the window sill can be a huge distraction. Not to mention my grand-mother’s weepy and tacky TV soaps that she insists on playing full-volume.
Here I am typing away when my Economics textbook looks invitingly at me… Oh boy, am I turning schizophrenic?? (Wow, I spelt it right… I think…)
Must get back to work. Must not think about starting a revolution to ban exams that would put the French to shame. Must not think about pretending to be abducted by aliens on the first day of the exam to return later with my memory erased. Ahhh! Must stop before I reveal too many secrets…
Textbooks long-lost and forgotten, found after several days of excavation in my cupboard.
Hundreds of study time-tables drafted, only to be torn and re-drafted.
(They are never meant to be followed anyway.)
Valiant attempts to study, thwarted by bouts of day-dreaming and telephone calls.
HBO decides to screen a movie I’ve always wanted to see.
Three hours straight down the drain.
Few days to go.
But I still haven’t got much done.
Every single day starts with a resolute determination to study.
And ends with a resolute determination to start over afresh tomorrow.
But as we all know, tomorrow never comes.
When I was in school, my mother gave me Ayurvedic medicines that were supposed to help me concentrate. They probably worked. If I were reading my favourite novel or watching a great movie and if you burst a fire-cracker right under my ear, I wouldn’t realise.
But when I’m studying, for example something thoroughly compelling like Business Regulatory Framework, even a pigeon on the window sill can be a huge distraction. Not to mention my grand-mother’s weepy and tacky TV soaps that she insists on playing full-volume.
Here I am typing away when my Economics textbook looks invitingly at me… Oh boy, am I turning schizophrenic?? (Wow, I spelt it right… I think…)
Must get back to work. Must not think about starting a revolution to ban exams that would put the French to shame. Must not think about pretending to be abducted by aliens on the first day of the exam to return later with my memory erased. Ahhh! Must stop before I reveal too many secrets…
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
The Street-light Syndrome
As I pass under a street-light it flickers and then goes out. A few feet away, another flickers and dies. No, this is not a scene from a horror movie. It happens to me! And all the time!!
It all started back in the good old school days. I realised that street-lamps went out when I passed under them. I thought I was going crazy. Probably an overdose of Goosebumps and X-Files. Then I told my best friend, who lived across the street, about it. Being an X-Files fan too, she appeared to be as intrigued and shocked as me. Or maybe she was just being nice and didn’t want to tell me that I was perfectly qualified to enter a mental asylum...
I lived with this strange phenomenon for years, never once daring to tell anybody about it. And then one day, I read somewhere that this is called the “street-light syndrome”. On searching the net I found there are quite a few people who, the word is probably too strong, suffer from it. This phenomenon has no scientific explanation and it’s probably just a game that the mind plays on you. Maybe Mulder would know.
It all started back in the good old school days. I realised that street-lamps went out when I passed under them. I thought I was going crazy. Probably an overdose of Goosebumps and X-Files. Then I told my best friend, who lived across the street, about it. Being an X-Files fan too, she appeared to be as intrigued and shocked as me. Or maybe she was just being nice and didn’t want to tell me that I was perfectly qualified to enter a mental asylum...
I lived with this strange phenomenon for years, never once daring to tell anybody about it. And then one day, I read somewhere that this is called the “street-light syndrome”. On searching the net I found there are quite a few people who, the word is probably too strong, suffer from it. This phenomenon has no scientific explanation and it’s probably just a game that the mind plays on you. Maybe Mulder would know.
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