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Showing posts from September, 2015

Truth. Wisdom.

Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan once defined Hinduism as "nothing more than the belief that truth is many-sided and different views contain different aspects of truth that no one could fully express." Truth. How can truth be truth if it has many sides and many aspects? May be there are many things which we cannot see, perceive or feel. Who knows all sides of the truth? Surely no one among us, though we believe we do. This misplaced belief that we are wise may have made us blind to the various sides of the truth regarding every aspect of our lives and beyond it. We are surrounded by mythology, traditions, folklore. Do these mask the original truth? Or do they really guide us towards the truth with hints and clues? No one can tell after all these centuries of a parallel universe with myths possibly clouding truth, intentionally or otherwise.

Uncle Tom's Cabin

I am reading 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' by Harriet Stowe. Reading may not be the right word. I am drowning in it. I can see why this book literally brought a revolution in the Americas. It is a book for those ostriches who paint a rosy picture of America in their drawing rooms and extol the virtues of equality and fraternity, which they feel is not found in India due to its caste system. Both caste system and slavery are evils in themselves; the fact is people who thought themselves civilised and the rest of the world not so, should realise that civilisation does not exist in etiquette, dress and propriety in speech and manner, but in humanity, tolerance and kindness towards other humans. That is where some mighty kingdoms fell. Don't you agree?

Weep not...

"Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb, In life's early morning, hath hid from our eyes." Thomas Moore says it well. In the last three years, I have seen more than my share of death. I have seen the anguish it brings to the near ones, and the remorse. I have also seen dedication and love, which remained steadfastly even in the face of death. I just wonder. Why should we be born only to die some day? And with death vanishes our whole life, its experiences, cherished dreams, lofty thoughts and the wisdom from our mistakes. What is the use of it all?

My last Maggi

My evening began on a sad note: I was hungry and wanted to eat Maggi. I then searched high and low for that elusive pack, which was the last one in our pantry, and probably in our town. Finally, I found it sitting snugly in the fridge, looking forlorn and lonely. I took it up and reluctantly poured its contents into boiling water, for my hunger had got the better of me. Then I set up the empty packet on the kitchen slab as a memento of a lost Maggian era. The cooked noodles was savoured slowly and reverentially, no one in the family willing to end it first. Now it has the place of a relic in all hearts, reminding us of the times when the snack made our evenings tastier and helped our mothers fill the bellies of their ever-hungry kids.