Sunday, July 31, 2011

Faith, Hope and Love


In the dreary desert
Dry, lifeless and real,
In the center of limitless
Dunes of dry sand,
There was a small oasis,
In which there were 3 large shady trees,
They were –
Faith, Hope and Love!

Faith was a huge green tree,
With millions leaves,
Giving a shady solace,
To anyone coming by.

Hope was a tree of crystal.
Her leaves were but a million solitaires!
Each hanging in its own shiny charm!
Amidst darkest of the nights,
The solitaires would sparkle,
Giving light to even the blind!

And then was this tree –
The most special one!
Lovely red were her leaves,
Shiny and luscious red!
The branches and the bark
All made of pure gold!
Decorated were the red and soft leaves,
With delicious yellow fruits,
Ripe to the core,
Intoxicating by mere sight,
Filled with nectar of immortality!

In this dry desert of reality,
These three trees always were there,
Standing with the same beauty and glory,
Young and bright!

Thought most mortals
They were just another mirage,
Among the many in the desert!
None took any notice,
None gave any chance
To Faith, Hope and the Love!

Michel Simoni walking down the desert,
That scorching noon,
Was tired!
He was in a pilgrimage,
Across the desert,
To the far off land of Andrea!

He was tired, hungry and thirsty.
Sitting down, by one of the sand dunes,
Simoni saw the magical trees,
Far away as a pleasant apparition!

He thought it was just a mirage.
But then decided to believe it for real,
Started Simoni walking towards
Faith, Hope and Love!

He reached the trees,
After hours of walk,
Under the scorching Sun,
On the dry land!

Spellbould was he
To see the grandeur,
The majesty and perfection!
Three trees in all their glory and youth,
Stood there welcoming SImoni!
 They were real, they were true!!

Simoni went to Faith,
As an obvious option,
To take a respite from the scorching sun of reality,
To the cool shady breeze of the green leaves of Faith!

Simoni sat under the tree.
With heartfelt gratitude
Relaxed he under the shade!
His thirst quenched,
Tiredness disappeared,
Ecstatic was he,
Sitting on the lap of Faith!
Faith caressed the sweaty forehead of Simoni!
Pampered by the affection,
Simoni asked the magic tree –
Who are you?
“I am Faith”, the tree continued,
“The am a sent by God,
To make you mortals get a feel,
What presence of divinity is like.
I am a dimension of your existence,
Beyond your rational mind.
I am what your eyes cannot see,
You mind cannot reason,
But your heart can touch.
I am your only remaining connection,
With the Infinite!
You often dismiss me as just a mirage,
But I am the source of everything
That you are awed with, and ever will be!”

Enchanted with Faith,
Simoni looked towards the inviting Hope!
Still he was lying down
With a feeling of profound peace,
With Faith!
Hope with her soft voice,
Greeted Simoni,
And introduced herself –
“I am Hope. I am that silver lining,
That urges you mortals to take that extra step,
Which differentiates you from rest of creation!
I keep the lamp lighted,
Spreading light of victory and workability,
In the darkness of failures and falls!”

Seeing the conversation in full swing,
Love could not stop, but join in!
“I am Love, Simoni!! Nice to see you here!”,
The tender tinkling seducing voice,
Glided softly directly into the heart of Simoni!
Love continued –
“I am Love. I am what binds all life forms together!
I am the choice you mortals have at your disposal,
At any time, to come to!
To have a taste what it feels to be God!
And how it appears to be in heaven!!
Some shun me in the provoked by the ruthless reality.
But they forget the reality is what you create!
I am Love. I am the essence of life!”

No more was Simoni hungry,
Nor he was thirsty!
All his tiredness evaporated.
Rejuvenated by life giving nectar,
Of the aura of the magic trees,
Simoni was in trance!

It was already dusk by now.
Like a whole life spent in a few seconds,
Simoni had never experienced this peace before,
Not even when he was lost in his sculptures!

Intoxicated with the bliss,
Peace and tranquility like never   before,
Simoni  slept on the lap of Faith,
Guarded in the affectionate warmth,
By Hope and Love!
Eyes closed,
With a smile on his face,
And Halo on his head,
Simoni was sanctified by the grace,
Of Faith, Hope and Love!

More poems on Michel Simoni - 
http://criativ-mind.blogspot.com/search/label/SIMONI%20SERIES
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Friday, July 29, 2011

Respite from Reality


Far.. very far away from
The ruthless world of reality,
I sink into the blissful solace,
Into the seducing intoxication
Of the pristine Love,
In the world of dreams –
The perfect world!

Untouched by the virus of hatred,
Unscathed by the bitterness of jealousy,
Un-burnt by the fire of ego and pride,
Un-ruffled by the basic instincts of
Downplaying others and their worlds.
Like a headless chicken,
Living blindly with the sole agenda of
Just preservation and proliferation
Of Self and one’s own likes –
With an eerie sense of self-righteousness!
Here I am having a respite from Reality!
Into the coziness of my own world!

Far..very far away from
The ruthless world of reality,
I sink into the blissful solace,
Into the seducing intoxication
Of the pristine Love,
In the world of dreams –
The perfect world!

I know this world is not your reality.
I know this world does not feed,
Neither does it provide shelter.
Helps it none,
For you to rise the social ladder,
To earn yourself trophies of materialistic pursuits!

But for me my world of dreams,
That zone of peace,
I hold so dear!
Where I am all alone,
All carefree and flamboyant!

My world decorated with the
Eternal glitter and shine
Of those sweet memories of days gone by,
With the mushiness of my ethereal Love,
Enthralled by the grace of
The unforgettable
Those Most Beautiful Eyes!
Blessed by the glory of
The musical laughter,
Straight from the harp of the Venus!
Graced by the fragrant apparitions
 Of those transient feelings of
The deepest of bonds!
That heavenly feeling of
Being made for each other!

My world – away from the ruthless reality,
Where there is nothing,
But just Love, care, and understanding!
Where mind is set free –
Beyond all fears, prejudices, hatred
Rudeness, ego, narrowness, and selfishness!
Where my existence is beyond being just a human -
Limited and weak!
To the world of limitless reach,
Powered by the feathers and Halo
Of a million arch-angels!
Where all that is real is only Love, only Love!

My world – away from the ruthless reality,
Where the noise of
All the baser debilities of being human,
Is silenced by the over-powering
Symphony of compassion, and un-conditional love!
Where the dullness of white canvas of self utilitarian existence,
Is beautified by the strokes of million colors of
Matured understanding and affection!
Where the saddening frowns of the experience,
Is mellowed by the childlike innocence!

A world through the eyes of my little daughter,
A whole new world,
Decorated with the fairy tales of love and beauty,
In the stories of Cinderella, Alice, Mougli, and Barbie,
Weaving out a new level of being alive,
Sparkling with the twinkle of a love filled eyes!

A world where all are mine,
And I for all,
An extended family the world seems,
Kith and kin – everyone and all!
Where it is more important to love –
Truly and Passionately Love,
Than being loved in return!
Where it is all about giving ones pure self,
Towards a cause noble!
Where the most important thing to achieve,
Is a victory for mankind!
Where the most coveted place,
Is a respectable niche in others heart!
Where only what matters is
What I give,
To the world and its people!
Where it is irrelevant I am sad of happy,
Where it is irrelevant I am loved or hated!
Where others come become me,
Where the world is a single family,
Of all loved ones – sharing love and compassion!

Far..very far away from
The ruthless world of reality,
I sink into the blissful solace,
Into the seducing intoxication
Of the pristine Love,
In the world of dreams –
The perfect world!

Into that heaven of freedom,
Dear friend,
I invite you too!

______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

The Fakir and his Riches


Everything peaceful and saffron was
In the Garb of the luscious Dusk -
The open and generous Sky,
The Passionate gushing fall,
Playing in background from far off mount -
The background buzz of the throbbing life!
Those flocks of little birds,
Together returning to their nests,
With their loved ones beside!

The Fakir rowing the boat,
On the muddy water of the Hooghly,
With his saffron sack on his back,
Blue turban tied neatly up,
His ivory white robe from shoulder to toe,
With the right crease impeccably made.

The evening breeze conditioned
With the peaceful cold water of the river,
Flows along with his white cascading beard.
Gently rowing the boat,
The Fakir sings his song new –

Rejoice I my riches –
The invisible, held secured,
Far away from the reach of any mortal,
Deep down in the private chambers of my heart –
My Memories, my Dreams, my Inspirations, my Love!

Rust they none,
Plundering cannot be done,
Far away from the eyes of any,
To either appreciate of envy!
My riches are only mine,
Till the last breathe in my life,
And then continuing the journey,
In the life beyond!

Time I have none,
Heeding to the provocations of the world,
For busy am I –
Creating more such riches,
Every aware moment of my life!

My riches are not earthly,
But are works of art –
Straight from the abode of the Gods!
They appear to me in forms many –

Either in Inspiring words of another soul,
His invigorating songs or his poem,
Showing me a new reality,
To start a new journey!

In the gallant beatitude,
In the remembrance of that special one,
Long lost in the humdrum of causal tides.
Re-affirming to me every moment –
It is not bad that it’s all over now,
But it is that profound joy,
That atleast it happened sometime!

In that pristine involvement,
To create that destiny,
That victory for the mankind!
Combating consistently
Against all human slithering,
Advancing steadily to a direction Inspiring!


In that tireless pursuit,
Of wisdom, knowledge and
Exploration of the unknown!
Each time discovering something new,
Being more aware,
Knowing life in a new way!

Sinking in that feeling of belonging,
Among the hills of Kabul,
Breathing my own air,
Being wet in my own rain,
In the process of feeling myself,
Part of the flowers, the stones, and the wind,
Of my beloved motherland!

His riches don’t get over,
Neither have they perished!
With every share,
Multiplies it many folds!
With every new song,
Sharing the good news
With souls many!

Keeps humming his tune in the windy evening,
The Fakir, rejoices at his eternal riches!

______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Me and my Follies


With countless imperfections,
Me with all my follies,
Tread down the road of life.

For some I am a boring block,
For some a laughing stock,
For some a maverick fool,
For some just an antic!

Jester being for so many,
Me with all my follies,
Tread down the road of life.

With all shortcomings,
The insignificant soul in me,
Is alive and throbbing still with life.
Expectant eagerly
For that song to reverberate,
That rhythm to entice,
That color to dip all around,
In its embrace of exotic redness!

 In this long journey,
Winnowing with the wind of time,
Waiting with patience,
Toiling hard keeping the pace,
Up the thorny uphill,
I keep making the way to that
Lustrous Sparkling crystal castle -
Eluding its elegance
Amidst fog and mist!

I fall down on the dust,
Repeatedly hurting and bleeding,
But again stand I,
Start walking up the winding hill,
Shining against the gleaming Sun,
With the sweat of painful toil!
Stop not I creating, what inspires me,
For that is not a just a good to have dream,
But a reason to be!

I am happy or sad,
Bleeding or Laughing –
Hated or loved,
Does not matter at all!
For it is irrelevant to the universe
And its indifferent ways!

What just matters
Is the destiny I am busy creating –
The destiny for me, the world, and its people!

A lonely traveler,
In the long journey,
Me with all my follies,
Tread down the road of life.

______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Athena and Vikaro


It was early 15th century,
On one of those early morn
Michel Simoni - sitting on the top of Mt. Vesuvius,
Was contemplating design
Of his flying machine!
Deep lost with his canvas and his pen,
Sketching the  machine
To fly in air,
Was Simoni in his Zone!

The sky was crimson
Dawn at her seductive best
Simoni suddenly was
Distracted by the
Gushing Vikaro - The westerly wind.
Passed he in a jiffy
To the open sky
To hold the falling Athena – The lovely Albatross!

And LO!!
Simoni could see
How like a godsend artist
Vikaro held his beloved Athena
With his strong hands,
Making her fly – saving her the fall!

Enchanted was Simoni,
By the grace, the style and the perfection!
Vikaro with great care of a lover,
An ingenuity of an engineer,
With the finesse of a sculptor,
Created that perfect aerofoil
Holding his dear love – his Athena
Steadily gliding in the open sky,
To the gates of heaven!!

Athena – the Albatross –
White like the Archangel’s Halo!
The grand expanse of her flawless wings,
With deep black most beautiful eyes!
Was making the seven heavens proud,
Gracefully surfing through
Like a Simoni’s Perfect  Stroke!

All the while,
Vikaro did held Athena,
With his sinew strong,
And heart brimming with love,
Kept he his position strong,
Holding Athena all along,
In rain and sun,
In thick and thin,
Morning and Night,
Taking her to places new,
Worlds far!

All pain did Vikaro endure,
Limitless agony without a frown!
For he was getting the meaning of his life,
Making his love fly high and high!

Athena knew none of Vikaro!
Unaware of the balance and support,
Created by Vikaro,
Kept she soaring unknown of
Vikaro, his love and his toil!

Every morn, every night,
Did Simoni see the spectacle of heavenly love,
Athena flying to the heavens new,
On the shoulders of Vikaro,
Un-known of his ardent love!

 Athena proud of her flying feats,
Was confident more!
She knew that all for all her craft and excellence!
She knew it was all she,
And no role was played by any other.
In pride and defiance of the world,
Athena kept soaring new heights!
Till she reached the limits of seventh heavens!

There things were all bright and beautiful.
Athena did not need to fly for reaching heights.
It was a new world,
Effortlessly was Athena did dance,
With Angels and Gods!
No push of the westerly wind
Needed she!
No support of the lowly Vikaro was required!

Athena was happy and fulfilled at her achievement!
She knew it was all her personal feat.
Proud was she of her abilities,
Arrogance beautified her countenance further!

Now, Vikaro was all alone,
His beloved was no more for him.
Life was empty – flying aimlessly,
Hither to Thither!

Simoni called on Vikaro,
Asked him why did not he stop Athena by?
Why did not he express his love to her?
At the least, she should know your ardent love!
Encountered Simoni with rage,
To the flowing westerly wind!

Vikaro smiled with ease and mock,
Said he to Simoni –
You earthly artists,
What you know
About Love without strings!
Love for me is a worship offered,
My care and love
Are tulips of blessings dedicated at
The altar of my Love – My Athena!
I do not need it to be repaid,
For my love is priceless!
My love bears no strings,
Bears it no expectation!
I live to love,
Not to get love in return.
With another scar in his heart,
Did Vikaro fly to his seclusion –
Far away, hidden behind the Vesuvius!

Simoni smiled at the heavenly show!
Got he the answer how to fly -
His flying machine must resemble
The dance posture of Athena and Vikaro!
People call it by names many,
Some call it aerofoil!

Became Simoni busy with his design-
Conceptualizing the first flying machine!

Athena was busy with the Gods,
Among the gold and pearls,
Making merry with music and love

All flora and fauna was busy with
Everyday chores!
Indifferent was the universe,
For there was this lowly Vikaro,
Hidden behind the Vesuvius,
For it was no more relevant,
To Athena, to Simoni, and the world!
Died Vikaro in silence, known by none.
There was silence everywhere –
An indifferent and impersonal Silence!

PS - More poems of Michel Simoni - 
http://criativ-mind.blogspot.com/search/label/SIMONI%20SERIES
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Monday, July 11, 2011

Just in Search of a Story..

The merchant of dreams,
From the hills of Kabul,
Wanders by the terrains, forests, and rivers,
Like a vagabond!

He is empty handed,
No house for him,
No shelter, no one knows him.
In this grand city of Joy!

Just a stranger to
The Indifferent Universe he was,
None to love,
None to hate!

Just he has a bag
Hanging from his shoulder,
A bag filled with dreams!
Sells he the dreams,
To children, men and women!
Since ages he did the same –
That was his profession!
He was a merchant of dreams.

Many great men had written about him,
Since ages long by!
The one that comes to my mind,
Is Tagore’s rendition of “Kabuliwala”!

Had he a little daughter – Rukhsana!
Left he her in Kabul, when she was just 2.
For the call of his work,
His profession of selling dreams to the world!
Many dreams he sold,
Helping mortals many,
In their journey of life!

Today Rukhsana was 20,
No news had he from her,
Nor his family, or his people.
He posted the money order
As usual to the same address.
This time, he decided to send some more,
Thought he - might be it was her wedding month!

He was a fakir,
Singing the tunes of the Spirit,
On the railway platforms,
Or the crowded streets of Kolkata!
Some people despised him,
Some came for newer dreams,
Some blessed him,
Some hated him giving despised look.

He kept singing his tune,
Several songs of the Spirit had he,
With new tunes and words!
Kept he selling dreams to people who came!

But today no song had he in his lips,
The tunes were too dried up!
Took out from his rags an old tattered paper,
Imprinted on it was a little hand of his baby Rukhsana!
When she was just 2.
He was missing his daughter!

“Ali!!”, he shouted.
Wanted he a new story,
A new dream, a new song!
This time for none –
But just for himself –
Only for himself.

______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Darwin - His life and his teachings

It is certainly true that Darwinism can help make a person saintly. No doctrine heightens one’s consciousness of hidden selfishness more acutely than the new Darwinian paradigm. If you understand the doctrine, buy the doctrine, and apply the doctrine, you will spend your life in deep suspicion of your motives.
That is the first step toward correcting the moral biases built into us by natural selection. The second step is to keep this newly learned cynicism from poisoning your view of everyone else: to pair harshness with leniency towards others; to somewhat relax the ruthless judgment that often renders us conveniently indifferent to, if not hostile to, their welfare; to apply liberally the sympathy that evolution has meted out so stingily. If this operation is inordinately successful, it might result in a person who takes the welfare of others markedly, but at least not massively, less seriously than his own.
Some people worry that the new Darwinian paradigm will strip their lives of all nobility. If love for children is just defense of our DNA, if helping a friend is just payment for services rendered, if compassion for the downtrodden is just bargain-hunting – then what is there to be proud of? One answer is- Darwin – like behavior. Go above and beyond the call of a smoothly functioning conscience; help those who aren’t likely to help you in return, and do so when nobody’s watching. This is one way to be truly moral animal. Now, in the light of the new paradigm, we can see how hard this is, how right Samuel Smiles was to say that the good life is a battle against “moral ignorance, selfishness, and vice”; these are indeed the enemies, and they are tenacious by design.
Another antidote to despair over the ultimate baseness of human motivation is, oddly enough, gratitude. If you don’t feel thankful for somewhat twisted moral infrastructure of our species, then consider the alternative. Given the way natural selection works, there were only two possibilities at the dawn of evolution:
a) That eventually there would be a species with conscience and sympathy and even love, all grounded ultimately in genetic self-interest,
b) That no species possessing these things would ever exist.
Well, a happened. We do have a foundation of decency to build on. An animal like Darwin can spend lots of time worrying about other animals – not just his wife, children, and high status friends, but distant slaves, unknown fans, even horses and sheep. Given that that self-interest was the overriding criterion of our design, we are reasonably considerate group of organisms. Indeed, if you ponder the utter ruthlessness of evolutionary logiv long enough, you may start to find our morality, such as it is, nearly miraculous.
Having crafted a moral measuring stick, Darwin gave his life a passing grade. “I believe that I have acted rightly in steadily following and devoting my life to science.” Still, while feeling “no remorse from having committed any great sin,” he had “often regretted that I have not done more direct good to my fellow creatures. My sole and poor excuse is much ill-health and my mental constitution, which makes it extremely difficult for me to turn from one subject or occupation to another. I can imagine with high satisfaction giving up my whole time to philanthropy, but not a portion of it; though this would have been a far better line of conduct.”
It’s true that Darwin didn’t live the optimally utilitarian life. No one ever has. Still, as he prepared to die, he could rightly have reflected on a life decently and compassionately lived, a string of duties faithfully discharged, a painful, if only partial, struggle against the currents of selfishness whose source he was the first man to see. It wasn’t a perfect life; but human beings are capable of worse.

PS - The above is an excerpt from the last part of the book - The Moral Animal from Robert Wright.

______________________________________________

Saturday, July 9, 2011

On Religion and Evolution

The theme of strict self-governance, the control of animal appetites, appears again and again in the world’s great religions. Also widespread, is the doctrine of brotherly love that Darwin found so beautiful. Six centuries before Jesus, Lao-tzu had said, “it is the way of the Tao..to recompense injury with kindness.” Buddhist scriptures call for “an all embracing love for all the universe..unmarred by hate within, not rousing enmity.” Hinduism has the doctrine of “ahimsa,” the absence of all harmful intent.
People tend to say and believe things that are in their evolutionarily ingrained interests. This does not mean that harboring these ideas always gets their gene spread. Some religious doctrines – celibacy, for example – may dramatically fail to do that. The expectation, rather is simply that the doctrines people latch on to will have a kind of harmony with the mental organs natural selection has designed. “Harmony”, admittedly, is pretty broad term. These doctrines may, on the one hand, slake some deep psychological thirst (belief in an afterlife gratifies the will to survive); or they may, on the other hand, suppress some thirst so unslakable as to be a burden (lust for example). But in one sense or another, the beliefs people subscribe to should be explicable in terms of evolved human mind. Thus when diverse sages manage to sell the same themes, the themes may say something about the contours of that mind, about human nature.
Donald T. Campbell, one of the first psychologists to get enthusiastic about modern Darwinism, has suggested as much. In an address to the American Psychological Association, he spoke of “the possible sources of validity in recipes for living that have been evolved, tested, and winnowed through hundreds of generations of human social history. On purely scientific grounds, these recipes of living might be regarded as better tested than best of psychology’s and psychiatry’s speculations on how lives should be lived”.
Some have noted that, while these religious ideas must by definition have a kind of harmony with the brains they settle into, that does not mean they are good for those brains in the long run. Some ideas, indeed, seem to parasitize brains – they are “viruses”, as Richard Dawkins puts it. The idea that injecting heroin is fun keeps infecting people by appealing to myopic cravings, rarely to the ultimate advantage of those people.
Besides, even if an idea does spread by serving people’s long term interests, the interests may be those of its sellers, not its buyers. Religious leaders tend to have high status, and it is not beyond the pale to see their preachings as a form of exploitation, a subtle bending of the listener’s will to the speaker’s goals. Certainly Jesus’ teachings, and Buddha’s teachings, and Lao-tzu’s teachings had the effect of amplifying the power of Jesus and Buddha and Lao-tzu, raising their stature within a growing group of people.
The great religions are at some level ideologies of self-help. It would indeed be wasteful, as Campbell suggests, to throw out eons of religious traditions without inspecting it first. The sages may have been self-serving, like rest of us, but that does mean they weren’t sages.

The concept of evil – still people seem to find it useful, and the reason is that it is metaphorically apt. There is indeed a force devoted to enticing us into various pleasures that are (or once were) in our genetic interests but do not bring long term happiness to us and may bring greater suffering to theirs. You could call that force the ghost of natural selection. More concretely, you could call it out genes. If it will help to actually use the word evil, there is no reason not to.

When the Buddha urges digging up the “root of thirst”. He isn’t necessarily counseling abstinence. Certainly there is talk in many religions of abstinence from various things, and certainly abstinence is one way to short-circuit the addictiveness of vice. But the Buddha put his emphasis not so much on a laundry list of proscriptions as on a generally austere attitude, a cultivated indifference to material rewards and sensory pleasure.

This fundamental defiance of human nature is encouraged in some measure by other religions. The Hindu scriptures, like Buddhists and Christians, dwell at more length, and more explicitly , on withdrawal from the realm of pleasure. The spiritually mature man is one who “abandons desires,” who “has lost desire of joys”, who “withdraws, as tortoise his limbs from all sides, his sense from the objects of sense.” Hence the idea man as depicted in the Bhagvad Gita: a man of discipline, who acts without worrying about the fruits of his action, a man who is unmoved by acclaim and by criticism. This way the image that inspired Gandhi to persevere without “hope of success of fear of failure.”

That Hinduism and Buddhism sound so much alike is not shocking. The Buddha was born a Hindu. But he carried the theme of sensory indifference further, boiling it down to a sever maxim – life is a suffering – and placing it at the very center of his philosophy. If you accept inherent misery of life, and follow the teachings of Buddha, then you can, oddly enough, find happiness.

In all these assaults of the senses there is a great wisdom – not only about the addictiveness of pleasures but about their ephemerality. The essence of addiction, after all, is that pleasure tends to dissipate and leave the mind agitated, hungry for more. The idea that just one more dollar, one more dalliance, one more rung on the ladder will leave us feeling sated reflects a misunderstanding about human nature – a misunderstanding, moreover, that is built into human nature; we are designed to feel that the next great goal will bring bliss, and the bliss is designed to evaporate shortly after we get there. Natural selection has malicious sense of humor; it leads us along with a series of promises and then keeps saying “Just Kidding.” As the Bible puts it, “All the labour of man is for his mouth, and yet the appetite is not filled.” Remarkably, we go our whole lives without ever really catching on.

The advice of the sages – that we refuse to lay this game -  is nothing less than an incitement to mutiny, to rebel against out creator. Sensual pleasures are the whip natural selection uses to control us, to keep us in the thrall of its warped values system. To cultivate some indifference to them is one plausible route to liberation. While few of us can claim to have traveled far on this route, the proliferation of this scriptural advice suggests it has been followed some distance with some success.

It remains true that pleasure is ephemeral; that its constant pursuit is not a reliable source of happiness; that we built not to easily grasp this fact; and that the reasons for all this are cleared in the light of new Darwinian paradigm.

There are scattered hings in the ancient scriptures of an understanding that human striving – after pleasure, after ewalth, after status – is yoked to self-deception. The Bhagvad Gita teaches that men “devoted to enjoyment and power” are “robbed of insight.” To pursue the fruits of action is to live in a “jungle of delusion”. The Buddha said that “the best of virtues is passionlessness; the best of men he who has eyes to see”

This grasp of our naturally skewed perspective is bound up with exhortations towards brotherly love. For a premise of those exhortations is that we are deeply inclined not to view everyone with the charity we extend to our kin and ourselves. Indeed, if we weren’t so deeply inclined, if we didn’t buttress this inclination with all the moral and intellectual conviction at our disposal, you wouldn’t have to start a whole religion to correct the imbalance.

PS - The above is an excerpt from the book - The Moral Animal by Robert Wright.

______________________________________________

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Simoni’s Soliloquy

At the fag end,
In the final scene of the drama of his life,
Aged 95, the old and fragile Michel Simoni,
Sitting on this favorite couch,
Was going through his old poems!

Having lost most of his memories to the aging brain,
Was he peeping into his now unknown past,
Through the window of those old poems,
In his old book he had labeled, “Old and Useless”!

Reading with deep involvement,
Like a young and devout fan of himself,
Did Simoni flipped through the pages,
Of his tattered diary of poems.

His eyes struck to one poem,
Written in gold ink, in that red page!
Took that up Simoni,
Strained his eyes close to the book,
Started reading he, his own poem,
Unknown of the past,
Like a new reader discovering a new poem!

As he started eyeing down word by word,
Of the age old poem,
Simoni started to recite, in rhythm,
Like a long forgotten song,
Remembering each word – one by one!

Simoni started with his tattered voice –

The Crowning Glory of the heavens,
From the distant lands of the Gods,
Descended thou in the lands of mortals,
In the world crowded by lowly creatures,
With their lowly ways!

Wretched and poor,
Insignificant and ugly heart of Simoni,
Hit was it with the arrow of the cupid,
When he one night bumped on those Most Beautiful Eyes!
It was a full moon night,
Walked the divine damsel,
By the river Nile.

The ordinary Simoni,
A poor blacksmith then,
Busy was he with hammer and anvil.
Was he trying to turn an iron rod.
And lo!!
Was there a strange apparition!
The iron rod turned to Gold Harp!
For some divine light had fallen from the sky!

Raised his head the young and poor Simoni,
And was he dazzled to his innermost core!
Was walking down the river bank,
The divine damsel,
With the Most Beautiful Eyes.

Could not he believe his own eyes,
Simoni pinched himself,
Thought he it was just a dream!
But alas!
It was not a dream, A reality was it!
An unwanted, ugly, insignificant, poor and dumb
Blacksmith was in love with
The divine damsel with the
Most Beautiful Eyes!

Saw Simoni the divine,
Stride the banks,
Could he see the jealous moon,
Of the beauty walking!
The craving Nile,
Yearning to have a moment’s
Touch of goddesses’ feet!
In the heavens he could see,
All Gods standing in awe,
Lost in the Beauty of the damsel divine!

Smiled Simoni at the sight.
Held he his heart throbbing,
Looked down he on his anvil,
His hammer and the fire.
He knew he was lowly,
But he was in love,
Deep and Profound Love,
Something he never had known before!

Wanted he to jump and run towards
The damsel divine,
Kneel before those Most Beautiful Eyes,
And sing a song of love,
Offering his heart – right then and there!

But stopped Simoni!
Realized he – His beloved was a heavenly delight!
Though he was in trance – deep in love,
How can the heavens match a tattered gutter?
How can there be spring in a desert?
How can solitaire be in the finger of a destitute?
How can an illiterate know what a poem is?
How can the lowly sand under the damsel’s feet,
Even dare to think to be part of her bosom!

Realized he with a smile,
His lowly stature!
Brought face to face,
The stark impossibility of the
Innocent desire of his heart.

Simoni patted his heart,
With sunken voice,
Most eyes,
And lump in throat,
Said he in a sad soliloquy,
“Heavens don’t meet the Earth,
Look down o innocent soul,
Be busy with the anvil, hammer and fire,
You lowly Blacksmith!
You are no God,
For the Goddess with the Most Beautiful Eyes,
Will never embrace in love,
Your parched, ordinary and lowly soul!

The love stuck heart,
Of the poor and broke Blacksmith,
Laughed aloud,
“Where is written the Goddess shall love in return,
For any love offered by the lowly mortals?”
“Is not it once in a eons privilege,
To have been graced by the glance of the damsel divine,
Having the heart of one,
Nurture the seed of love for those Most Beautiful Eyes?”
Is not it love’s labor returned,
With the iron rod turned into the Gold Harp,
With the glance of those Most Beautiful Eyes,
Having got the privilege to feel that love,
Profound and pristine,
In the lowly, insignificant and this worthless Heart!
Certainly may the Gods not attach me to the damsel divine,
For shall it diminish the beauty and grace of this world!
With the artless pairing of the heavenly finesse,
By an artless, soiled, scarred, ordinary and poor Heart!

Continued the Blacksmith,
Hitting this hammer to the iron rod,
Kept aside he the Gold Harp,
Hidden deep in his heart!

Out of sight of all mortals, sky, and earth,
Was the Gold Harp placed,
Wrapped with velvet of an ageless love!
With great care and affection,
Motionless and cold,
On the throbbing altar,
Of an empty and silent Heart!

The poem was over,
Simoni gave a silent smile,
The Gold Harp was still there,
In the same place,
Motionless and cold!
After so many ages!!

He was happy and fulfilled!
World had changed,
Now not he a Blacksmith anymore,
He was not poor and lowly!
Kings of seven lands,
Venerated him as the greatest Sculptor in the World!

But was he in love,
As ardent as ever!
That night by the river Nile,
Appeared to him as just yesterday’s dream!

[More on Simoni Series - 
http://criativ-mind.blogspot.com/search/label/SIMONI%20SERIES]

______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

The Shattering Dynamics


When a glass breaks and shatters into pieces, a unique thing takes place. The surface area of the glass pieces as a whole increases exponentially. More surfaces get exposed to the atmosphere and light. Repeated reflections, refractions and total internal reflections happening in this conglomerate of the broken glass  pieces gives a perception of glitter, sparkle and shine.

Yes that is true that the original shape of the glass article has been lost. But having lost that fixed shape the glass particles explore a new dimension of existence – having exposed to maximum air and light – allowing them to really experience the world better – if you would. I call such a process as “Shattering Dynamics”

On similar lines, if drawn an analogy here is a famous saying from Andrew Harvey

“If you're really listening...If you're awake to the poignant beauty of the world. Your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break; Its purpose is to burst open again and again so it can hold ever more wonder!”

This concept of, “burst open again and again” is a dramatic expression of the process of breaking into pieces. The event of shattering down into pieces appears as an opportune process of bursting open into a whole new realm of being able to absorb, experience, feel and appreciate life and what it has to offer, in a more profound way.

This even signifies an eventual crushing of one’s ego; the state of being guided by Freudian “Id” - A way of life which was expressed by Dawkins in his book – “Selfish Gene”. 
Evolutionarily, humans were designed selfish. But then with millions of years of evolution, there has been an interesting attribute of cooperation and collaboration also imbibed into humans. Might be such a bent of mind was necessary for humans to evolutionarily participate in bigger and more complex Non – Zero games. Such a proclivity towards cooperation appears certainly the design of natural selection to proliferate more and robust genes through eternity.

Irrespective of what Natural Selection’s hidden agenda is, it is a fact that humans like to cooperate and collaborate. They – if given appropriate triggers – they would be ready to shatter into pieces – lose out their self interest and self forms – and be available to creation of a magnificent collage! Taking part in a “Shattering Dynamics”

Somewhere, something is hidden which overtakes that pride of self ego, and helps a person to be a meaningful part of a big picture! She is available to bursting open again and again so it can hold even more wonder!

When a lover transcends his selfish lust and desire for self gratification from his beloved, and sets her free – to be what she wants, to go where she would, to act what she likes, even does not care if she hates him, he creates a “Shattering Dynamics” in his life, and the life of his beloved. Here the lover has allowed himself to be shattered to pieces – abandoning his self ego needs and pride, and surrenders in his entirety to his beloved, and her whims and likings. Such a state of immense immersion in love probably has led to creation of magnificent works of arts from men in love like Shakespeare, Tagore, Keats, Coleridge, Wordsworth, etc.

Such examples of “Shattering Dynamics” are very much visible in history of great and awe-inspiring creations like Google, Wikipedia, Open Source Revolution, Facebook, Android and many more! Classic illustrations of the shattering experiences are beautifully expressed by Kabir in his songs. 

The deep motivation under these shattering experiences might be given several names – love, devotion, likings, inspiration, awe, loyalty,  adventure, explore, creation, innovation etc. But it certainly is a unique virtue deeply engrained in humans. By design there is an un-selfish sheen created on human psyche – which yearns to be expressed. 

Designing a cooperative system – be it an organizational process, a legal regime, or a technical platform is immensely dwarfed if the makers rely on monitoring, rewards, and punishments. Their efficiency is limited by information gathering techniques. On the other hand systems that harness intrinsic motivation and self directed cooperative behavior don’t need to limit themselves to knowledge of what people will do. Every participant becomes his or her own monitor, bringing insights and initiatives to the task – whether or not someone is monitoring behavior.

I see it as a universal tendency in humans – to grow, learn, and create. This is what makes humans so special. Always there is an urge to break free – explore the un-chartered, experiment the unknown. This deep propensity to evolve towards a greater complexity is what makes humans to do different things. One such thing is to affiliate to the “Shattering Dynamics” – Shattering ones old self, in a desire to have a new collaborated self which is greater, nobler and awe-inspiring. Over millions of years, the genes of humans have observed it work. This assurance that two is always better than one, is hard-wired in the DNA of humans. This deep seated belief, allows humans to become a social animal. This infact is the reason humans are still alive in its excruciating journey of evolution in an ever increasing ruthless Nature.

There is this omnipresent unified spirit in humans to collaborate, cooperate, and consider oneself as a part of the whole – as the broken glasses take pride in having got shattered, but belonging to an inspiring collage! 

Evolutionary Psychologists attribute such a strategy as another natural selection’s agenda to proliferate healthier and greater number of genes. That might be true. But more important than the root cause of this phenomenon, is the phenomenon itself! It gives an awareness of the prevalent “un-selfishness” and “un-conditionality” apparent in human psyche. It is of lesser importance whether the source of such un-conditionality is a deep seated conditioned self oriented ploy of the genes. 

______________________________________________ 
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Sunday, July 3, 2011

The Zone of Solace

Michel Simoni with all his moments of
Creativity and Toil –
Busy creating Novelty,
In Idea and work!
Seeps down into
The Zone of Solace!

The Zone which is so special,
Where his mind stops,
And heart takes over!
When there is no action, no doing
Just Being, just in-action!

Where he starts
Thinking and feeling
Experiencing and enjoying
Through his sense of being –
His entire body,
His presence, his memories,
His thoughts, his ideas,
His imaginations, his gratitude!
His love and his pains!

Deep in the darkness,
All alone, with eyes closed,
Sits he in trance.
Invokes he his inspirations,
His love and longing,
His fulfillment about what he has,
His aspirations, desires and dreams!
Feels he the strong attraction
To the fulfillment of his dream!
To the world when he will be no more,
In blood and flesh,
But will always be immortal,
In his sculptures, his songs, his poems!

He with profound silence,
Winnowing in his deep breath,
Expresses he, his heartfelt gratitude,
For being alive!
He hugs his heart, kisses his mind
And thanks with deep emotions,
For being the way they are!

Calls he the human legacy,
Left by his lineage,
Left by the civilizations great!
As footprints on the sands of time,
Since thousands of years before his arrival,
To the scheme of things!
Hugs them he with a grateful heart!
Thanks he them for being there always for him
For drawing strength and inspiration!

With head bowed down,
Expresses he with lowly heart,
His veneration and reverence,
To the Nature and its mysterious ways!
For churning out the evolution of this universe,
Its stones, mud, air, water, and the various forms of Life!

Far away eons apart,
With brimming eyes of affection,
With surrendered heart,
Blesses he those Most Beautiful Eyes,
For being part of his soul,
Births after births,
Incarnations one after other
Spreading across eternity!
His inspiration for life!

He is alone in that pristine zone,
No one to distract his trance!
His most precious possession that is!
Which only death to hide!

Today he might be broke,
He might be alone.
Youth and riches all gone by,
With the passage of years.
All youthful shine,
Might be crumbling gradually
In the wrinkles of his countenance,
World might be changing
Towards greater and greater
Degree of indifference!

But he smiles and sits in peace,
With his eyes shut,
Cherishing his zone of solace!
For he knows,
Richer he than the Emperors of the worlds,
Fear has he none,
For his gem – his zone,
None can snatch,
Neither it can rust,
Not it can age!

Brimming with Passion,
With inspiration, life and sheen!
Sinks Michel Simoni,
Into his seducing trance,
Away from the world,
Deep into his own –
His zone of solace!

[More poems of Michel Simoni -
http://criativ-mind.blogspot.com/search/label/SIMONI%20SERIES ]
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

Saturday, July 2, 2011

The Best of Freud..

What is best in Freud is his sensing of paradox of being a highly social animal: being at our core libidinous, rapacious, and generally selfish, yet having to live civilly with other human beings – having to reach our animal goals via a tortuous path of cooperation, compromise, and restraints. From this insight flows Freud’s most basic idea about the mind: it is a place of conflict between animal impulses and social reality.

One biological view of this sort of conflict comes from Paul D. MacLean. He calls human brain as a “triune” brain whose three basic parts recapitulate our evolution:
1.    A reptilian core – the seat of our basic drives
2.    Surrounded by a Paleomammalian brain – which endowed our ancestors with , among other things, affection for offsprings
3.    Surrounded in turn by a neomammalian brain – This voluminous neomammalian brain brought abstract reasoning, language, and perhaps selective affection for people outside the family.
Like many neat models, this one may be misleadingly simple; but it nicely captures a critical feature of our evolutionary trajectory: from solitary to social, with the pursuit of food and sex becoming increasingly subtle and elaborate endeavors.

Freud’s “Id” – The beast in the basement – presumably grows out of reptilian brain, a product of pre-social evolutionary history. This “superego” – loosely speaking, the conscience -  is a more recent invention. It is the source of the various kinds of inhibition and guilt designed to restrain the id in a genetically profitable manner; the superego prevents us, say, from harming siblings, or from neglecting our friends. The “ego” is the part in the middle. Its ultimate, if unconscious, goals are those of the id, yet it pursues them with long-term calculation, mindful of superego’s cautions and reprimands.

Congruence between the Freudian and Darwinian views of psychic conflict has been stressed by Randolph Nesse and the psychiatrist Alan T. Llyod. They see the conflict as a clash among competing advocacy groups, designed by evolution to yield sound guidance, much as tension among branches of government is designed to yield good governance. The basic conflict – the basic discourse – is “between selfish and altruistic motivations, between pleasure seeking and normative behavior, and between individual and group interests. The functions of the id match the first half of each of these pairs, while the functions of the ego/superego match the second half”.

All told, Freud’s scorecard is not bad: he has identified lots of mental dynamics that may have deep evolutionary roots. He rightly saw the mind as a place of turbulence, much of it subterranean. And, in a general way, he saw the source of turbulence: and animal of ultimately complete ruthlessness is born into a complex and inescapable social web.

But when he got less general than this, Freud’s diagnosis was sometimes misleading. He often depicted the tension at the center of human life as essentially between not self and society but self and civilization.

In reality, it has been a long, long time since nay of our ancestors enjoyed “no restrictions” on these “instincts”. Even chimpanzees must weigh their predatory impulses against the fact that another chimp can be a “potential helper”, as Freud put it, and thus may be profitably treated with restraint.

The point is that repression and unconscious mind are the products of millions of years of evolution and were well developed long before civilization further complicated mental life. The new paradigm allows us to think clearly about how these things were designed over those millions of years. The theories of kin selection, parent-offspring conflict, parental investment, reciprocal altruism, and status hierarchy tell us what kinds of self-deception are and aren’t likely to be favored by evolution. If present-day Freudians start taking these hints and recast their ideas accordingly, may be they can save Freud’s name from the eclipse it will probably suffer if task is left to Darwinians.

[Excerpt from the book The Moral Animal by Robert Wright.]
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar

The Solitary Traveler

The solitary traveler,
In robe blue,
White beard flowing down
As a fall of wisdom,
Winnowing on the passing breeze!

In the full moon night,
The path lit by the eternal fire,
Showing the way ahead,
Tread the man – the institution – the grace!
All alone he was,
With a song in his lips,
And Memories in his heart!
Fond and old..
Memories from distant lands,
Distant dreams and distant desires!

He was old,
Fragile and wrinkled.
But had he nurtured inside…
Deep inside in his self,
A young heart over-brimming with love,
Overflowing through eternity,
Ardent and passionate,
Love of his,
From the distant lands, the distant dreams,
That sparkling smile -
That avalanche of happiness!
Those Most Beautiful Eyes -
The life giving radiance of Morning Sun!
Those affectionate glance –
Like the drops of the first monsoon,
On the parching land!

He was on his solitary journey,
Along him was none,
All left behind,
Far away from him..
Beyond his mortal reach
In the realm of form….

Universe wanted it that way.
For he had to part,
Part from what he loved the most!

But, little did the stars know,
His love was beyond
The Constrained and constricted,
 Realms of reality!
What appeared to be parted
Eons apart,
Was deep inside his heart,
Deep inside his thought,
Very much with him,
With every breath of his,
Swinging on the flowery hammock,
Caressing his being alive!

With him lived ever after,
As his own self,
Being part of his heart and Body,
Mind and Soul!
His love, his passion, his ardor, his reason to be alive –
Those Most Beautiful Eyes!
Imparting spark of life to his existence!

And Bravo!
His love, his passion, his longing,
Transcended the cage of his heart!
Broke the captivity of his mind,
The clutches of his soul, mind and body!
Got expressed that profound love,
In the form of his creations –
His poems, his sculptures, his songs!

World thought it was
Michel Simoni and his genius mind!
But the truth knew only him,
Not even the Gods!
It was only that long gone by memories,
Of The Most Beautiful Eyes,
That profound attraction,
The sacred love,
The pristine longing,
Purest in its form,
Un-touched and un-seen!

That divine force,
Just flowed through Michel Simoni!
He was just a medium,
Silent and surrendered –
As usual – To his most sacred love!
He was just channel!
The art was not his –
But that of the Angel,
With The Most Beautiful Eyes!

PS - This is my 3rd composition in the Simoni Series.
For the other poems of the same series, you may refer -
http://criativ-mind.blogspot.com/search/label/SIMONI%20SERIES

______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar