Buddha Strikes

In Land of the Seven Rivers, a book on the history of India’s geography by Sanjeev Sanyal, we see a culture valorized for its roots in the rich Buddhist past, peace loving merchants and a civilization that cherishes its universities and places of learning more than palaces and emperors, and of course wars.

Two life-changing events in the history of India are related directly to the destruction of two major universities—Nalanda in the south and Taxila in the north. The progressive flow of culture and all variety of elements related to this ceased to exist in this nation, afterwards. This is direct proof suggesting the significance people of this nation once attributed to universities, peace, and beauty.

A few months ago, in New Delhi, the capital of India, often dubbed as the heart of India, by virtue of its geographical location, an innocent girl was brutally raped in a running bus, at night. Her friend was thrown out of the bus, while the act was going on. Later, the five men including a juvenile, included in that doomed act, threw the girl out of the bus. No one else was inside the bus, except the driver who took part in all this; it was the middle of the night.

The girl did not survive, and the whole world heard about her as the ‘Delhi-girl’ or as some punks nicknamed her, ‘Brave Heart’. The police asserted that the situation is under control, and no other woman would be treated like this anymore, in well-etched television dramas stages under the auspices of the highest authorities in government.

Violence, however, does not understand the language of politics. It has moved from one territory to another, from women all over the country to the general populace. This is big achievement, because now violence has a pan gender constitution, as every human being equally receives the affliction. Recently riots in Uttar Pradesh and the tensions across the border—east and west—are only a few areas where violence has perched and built its nest.

There are those who proclaim themselves as the new Buddha. These people fill primetime television with their words of arguments, promise, and vision. However, these visions are not leading us into peace or prosperity. If one looks deeper for roots of violence, they suck their nutrition right from the younger generation. Schools and colleges propagate the idea that violence is a higher and better way of interpersonal interaction. Our syllabi are stuffed with texts that promote extroversion as the norm of success. Outgoing behavior is prioritized over introversion. This violence is not the implicit one. No one hits or kills another, but the ideas they share through these curriculums nourish the necessary ingredients to build a society violent and anxious.

 

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The struggle of solitude over clamor, the struggle of silence over noise has become India’s current reality. In this struggle though, mercilessly, many are silenced without being given a chance to voice their side. Sadly, only those who can voice out their ideas have the means to maintain and own their space. Nothing is granted anymore. No matter what, everything should be snatched or fought over. In a land where even infants are used for satiation of lust, I can only use metaphors to plead my case. Those who consumed our trust pretending to be the Buddha of technological revolution, smile upon us and prepare to lodge their next strike.   

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The Disease of Extroversion: Noise Vs Silence

Extroversionhas become the norm of success. Within the Indian context, there was a time, fifty years back when a person’s inward character was more important than how he or she performed outwardly. With the technological renaissance and the growth of new educational institutions and their revised curriculums, the culture started favouring the outgoing ones. Speaking out became the norm and silent contemplation was looked down up on as a debilitating practice, in need of some severe personality training.

Corollary to this cultural move was the rise of personality trainers in India. The boom in B-Schools in India and their promotion of the exuberant selves are examples that can prove my point. Even English language training institutes focus on the sociable side of individuals and those who cannot bring themselves up to the interactive standards are considered failures. In fact, the sheer number of such institutes nicknamed “Spoken English coaching centers” in each area, from villages to cities in India, is a proof that a culture has slowly waking up to the spell of Personality.         

In Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking author Susan Cain argues that introversion is not a bad habit, but it’s a personality type, much like what Carl Gustav Jung had postulated in the early twentieth century. Susan Cain provides the clear image of how in the US, during the early twentieth century, the ‘Culture of Character’, which was the norm up to that period, changes to the ‘Culture of Personality’. This was a result of the financial boom and the rise of the cities.

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In order to satiate the desire to live and survive the dream of success, showman persona was the best clothing people prefer to put on. Ever since the boom in the industry and the growth of the cities, the salesman has become a reference point for agreeable personality types.

I remember one of my old friends was so fascinated by seeing a few salesmen working in an exhibition in the city that he even fought with the two of us, who accompanied him. The two of us never gave a shot to impress the attention of the salesmen, however, our friend was playing the chimp of the zoo in front of them. The two of us were so absorbed in the exhibition that we both walked off, without shaking our heads at the salesmen or returning those warm smiles they radiated. The truth was that the two of us were uncomfortable at the thought of greeting a stranger, in other words, introverts.

Susan Cain even brings up a case against religion, in Quiet. She points out the necessity to communicate and participate in group related activities, in many evangelical groups. These activities undermine introverts. She describes it with reference to the personal experiences of a pastor named in the book as Pastor McHugh. According to Ms. Cain, “Many evangelicals come to associate godliness with sociability.” (70) Pastor McHugh had taken the Myers-Briggs personality test and realized that he is an introvert. Being an introvert in a celebrated world of extroverts and “gregarious” leaders is indeed a hard factor for him, we learn.

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This is where extroversion becomes pathological.

An individual loses his faith in himself and his existence just because the world around him is blindly forcing upon him an ideal of outspokenness and gregariousness. Sociability and teamwork becomes the ultimate mantra of corporate success. Only those who can afford to build a company in their garage on their own can remain introverts without the fear from intrusion from the society. Susan Cain alludes here to Larry Page and Bill Gates. The urge to be better indicates the essential conviction of a certain lack in the personality. This awareness becomes negative when it comes to professional and personal fulfillment.

“[H]ow did we go from Character to Personality without realizing that we had sacrificed something meaningful along the way?” (33) Susan Cain asks the readers. The incessant longing to influence people through outward ‘performance’ marks the Culture of Personality. The Culture of Character, however, focuses on how an individual behaves in private.

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Of course, both personality types have their own roles to play in our society. When only one personality type is preferred over another and all other types are suppressed, one can only wonder where healthy social behavior ends and the disease starts. Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking tells us that the introverts are not in need of some ‘cure’. The society, on the other hand, should cure pathological extroversion and accept the useful strategies, gifted naturally to the introverts. 

This book review is sponsored by Mysmartprice.com.     

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The Buddha and the Terrorist

Oncethe US senate unleashes the verdict, Syria will burn with missiles and bullets. The world is about to witness one more grand show of justice. The face of this show is yet another binary opposite—innocence and arrogance. It is easy to confound the world by the mention of these two words, especially if one tries to find two respective faces to fit in with each of the description. Easier would be to identify this binary: good and evil. There is no question, America and other free world nations stand by innocence and good. The totalitarian regime in Syria is the evil, arrogance.

In this innocence Vs arrogance show of the Post-9/11 world Colosseum, the parties that are the innocence group would use the same types of weapons and methods to contend the arrogance side. The motto of innocence would be ‘annihilation’. Anyone who has eyes to see can see a fundamental reversal of motives at this point. This is the central theme of The Buddha and the Terrorist: The Story of Angulimala by Satish Kumar.

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The Prologue says, “If one person uses violence, and another calls it evil and then uses violence to stop the first, the second person also becomes evil because they are using the same means” (15). ’Talking to Terrorists’ is the title given to the prologue. It gives the idea that there is another route to approach the issue of terrorism and similar evil in the world—that is talks, or one-on-one communication. However, the question stands; can anyone talk with a terrorist, fierce in his demeanor and unflinching in his temperament? In our practical world, lead by television sets, and the internet, pundits say peace like war should be sponsored. Sometimes, they say, in order to achieve the desired order in the society, the use of a certain amount of power is necessary.

Through the story of the Buddha and Angulimala, Satish Kumar, a well-known Buddhist scholar, editor of Resurgence magazine and the author of two previous books, No Destination: An Autobiography and You Are, Therefore I Am: A Declaration of Dependence, slices through this argument of peace and war and replaces the blindness of violence with the light of Buddhist wisdom.

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The Buddha and the Terrorist is full of those typical scenes and contexts that invoke an ancient Buddhist village and follows the traditional way of storytelling. Pearls of wisdom whine through the words in each page and the reader is satisfied in mind and heart. Wisdom Tree published The Buddha and the Terrorist in 2012 in India. The volume contains a Foreword by Allan Hunt Badiner, the author of Zig Zag Zen and Mindfulness in the Marketplace. This volume also features illustrations by Clifford Harper.

The story takes place in the Gangetic planes in North India, in the kingdom of Savatthi, ruled by King Pasenadi. Anguli in Sanskrit means human finger. Mala is a garland. Angulimala is someone who wears a garland of human fingers around his neck. He is a psychopathic serial murderer and a terrorist, by all modern standards. He is merciless and steadfast with his cause. Much like the post-9/11 terrorists, Angulimala has a mission, a typical “holy war”, to perform. He claims that his war is with casteism, the fragmentation in the society based on caste. Angulimala continues to murder innocent people, until one day when the Buddha, the enlightened one come across. The Buddha transforms the murderer into Ahimsaka, the non-violent one, a name Angulimala takes up after receiving the transformative encounter with the Buddha.   

             

The Buddha and the Terrorist has less than one hundred pages. In its economic narration and powerful message, it’s a unique example of the high quality writings that originate in India. Sadly, such works do not come out quite often. In a scenario dominated by zombified, half-baked, and hollow love tales, The Buddha and the Terrorist stands as a watchtower to guide the paths of the lost. I am very thankful to that friend of mine, who gifted me this wonderful book.

Ahimsaka takes up the mission to salvage the world with the message of the Buddha. His words to a helpless woman are a startling revelation to one of the most complicated puzzles of human life. These words mark the depth of Angulimala’s transformation into Ahimsaka. He says, “A dead body and a dead heart know nothing of pain and sorrow. The existence of pain is a fundamental truth of life.” (86) 

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What Type Are You?

Thefirst part of the book is titled ‘The Extrovert Ideal’. As I plodded through Part One, I felt more drawn towards the tactics and means employed in order to equip people to be better public speakers and team leaders. The idea that if you can talk unhesitant and on a short notice, your presence would claim a considerable authority. People like fast talkers and enthusiastic go-getters. The down side, of course, is that those who feel uncomfortable about talking aloud in classrooms or in public gathering would be marginalized.

Susan Cain’s bestselling nonfiction, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking hooked me with its subheading. “The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking” is the central discourse of the book. That explains why I found Quiet interesting.

Ever since, I started attending school, no one ever found me in the school sports or arts festivals. Once, when I was forced to participate in an oratory, I stopped the speech in the middle and realized if I stayed on the stage a moment more, I would faint. Those were great lessons of human psyche to me, first hand of course, that people faint when faced with extreme stress.

Susan Cain; Image Courtesy: Google

In sports, thankfully, I never qualified the initial qualifying levels. Although I was athletic enough, a certain lack of inertia held my limbs tighter than how the tar holds the roads in Kerala.

I knew what my problem was. Someone had informed me. Perhaps, one of my parents, that I am an introvert. It sounded like ‘caveman’, for the ten year old that I was. Someone told me, when I was reluctant to go out to play with other kids that I should not behave like an introvert. That is bad, they said. ‘Bad’ meant dirty, unacceptable, secretive, and this might lead me to delinquency, they warned me.

I had thought that introversion was something like a habit, then. I did not know where I picked it up, though. Anyway, the next best thing was to ‘improve’ my personality. That’s when an individual begins the incessant struggles to fit in. Everyone who lives in such a social set up must have realized where I am driving at.

From her introduction onwards, Susan Cain drives towards the same direction. In Part One, however, what fascinated me was how a culture has found out the measures for an individual to stand out and lead. This was what I was talking about in the first paragraph.

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Yes, indeed, this is the quest for purification of personality, in order to attain some sort of outgoing persona. This desire governed much of my childhood. I also suspect that my increased curiosity about how to be an influential person with spoken word has to do with the profession I handle as my day job—teaching.

I meet students who are on the extrovert side, mostly, and others who are introverts. I also find ambiverts in class, a term I learnt from Susan Cain’s book. Part One of Quiet follows the history of how American culture changed from the “Culture of Character” to the “Culture of Personality”.

It is impossible for me to go back to that memory and think about myself standing in front of those many people at my school, in that public speaking competition. Although I had memorized all my speech thoroughly, the pressure was so much that I could not keep track of it at all. My dad had written that speech. I felt I let him down. I really did.

I still remember, in another speech, which was conducted exclusively in classroom, asking my family if I could pitch an idea all by myself, right on the spot, as if it is a reply or supplementation of the previous speaker’s words. Countering, arguing, and being spontaneous to the moment seemed fun. Remember, the same scared owl dropped the platter in the middle of the speech, the previous time. However, my family told me not to attempt this bravado at this point. Later in my life, I realized that I was a better public speaker, if I were spontaneous. Being an introvert, I had figured out to tackle the issue of forgetting the words I memorized and building confidence in front of the public, though I never really got a real chance as a kid to practice this.

Quiet will let you know about yourself or at least what type of person you live with, in a skillfully nonjudgmental way. 

This book review is sponsored by Mysmartprice.com.        

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We’re the Millers: Is Jen hot or Emma?

Warning: Spoilers ahead.

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A minor drug dealer, David Clark, one day, loses all his money. He has only one option; to take an offer proposed by his boss Brad Gurdlinger. The deal is to smuggle marijuana from Mexico into the US.

David Clark is well aware of the consequences of being caught in this smuggling. He also knows what would happen to his life if Gurdlinger is not taken seriously. So he decides to take the assignment, as he conceives a plot to execute the mission. He decides to enter Mexico as if he is in a family vacation. However, in order to bring the mission to completion, David Clark requires a family.

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He brings in his neighbor, the 18-year-old Kenny, a virgin, and a runaway teenage girl named Casey. He also approaches Rose, his former girl friend and a stripper. Although Rose shows an initial hesitation to join Clark’s mission, she had to comply, because she loses her job in the meanwhile. How these four armatures smuggle marijuana from Mexico into the US and through the journey find themselves in dramatic and life-changing circumstances, is in the core of We’re the Millers.

Released in 2013, We’re the Millers is directed by Rawson Marshall Thurber. Jason Sudeikis plays David Clark, and is superbly funny in his performance. Emma Robert in her role of Casey grabs all the attention in comparison with Jennifer Aniston, in Rose’s role as a stripper. Kenny, Will Poulter, is the dominant figure when it comes to comedy. He creates such situations when you can’t hold yourself any more to your chair than a bobblehead its neck.

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The anticipation in the story, whether the fake family, which they call the Millers, would be caught, gives it a surface tension. All four protagonists are social misfits. I am not very sure how the “virgin” identity belongs to the misfit category, but Kenny seems to be an introvert and in this sense he surely is a misfit in the largely extrovert American society. Although the characters are initially reluctant to take over the mask of the Millers, at the end of the movie, they are extremely happy and are comfortable with their new name.

This indicates that the ultimate message We’re the Millers puts forwards, is hope. Hope does not come up as a random idea in this movie. The base of hope is the desire to live and move forward. That same propellant governs all human actions, in general. However, while hope comes to roost in your mind there would be some harsh realities that might sweep your nightly sleep away, and transform you into an insomniac.

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In We’re the Millers, David confronts a traumatic state of affairs with his smuggling endeavour. Being David Miller means to him success in his mission as well as financial security to begin a new life. So he trusts the intuition and starts off at the journey. Hope demands something from the individuals, though. In We’re the Millers, the risk the team of four takes, awards them the final salvation. And the journey of hope ends with joy and life. David Clark helps to reinstate good over evil, when he realizes final victory is his. In other words, David, being assured of receiving into his life what he expected, decides to exchange a smuggler’s life with that of a family man’s. The man he meets on the way back from Mexico into the US, in an RV, becomes his savior. I am leaving some hilarious surprise to you, here.       

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When you watch this movie, though beware of F-bombs, references to homosexuality, and many other unacceptable references to family audiences and kids. There is a stripping performance by Jennifer Aniston, in front of one of the villains, which reminds, somewhat proudly, the old Bollywood movies such as Shaan and Sholey. In these Bollywood classics, the heroines often perform in front of the villains, their sensuous and luring dance moves in order to save the life of the hero, who is under custody of the bad man.

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Jennifer Aniston’s stripping performance though pales in front of Emma Robert, even though this niece of Julia Robert does not remove a single piece of her clothing.       

 

This is Saturday Flick. Go HERE for more.

 

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Pea for English: Follow Up

Pea for English is the new English training strategy devised on the premises that the growth of the pea plant mirrors, somewhat closely, the steps involved in second-language acquisition. Preparing the soil [identifying the proper aptitude for language learning], Planting the seed [equipping the language learner with the basic laws of the second language], watering [reading on a daily basis, materials written in the language that is being learnt], etc.

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We planted a pea plant in the first semester B. Com classroom, in a garden pot. Each day three students would pour small quantities of water to the seed still in slumber inside the soil. I had made take an oath that the ones who water the plant must participate in a thirty minutes reading, each day. So each one responsible to water the plant would read for at least half an hour, anything they come across.

If no one participates in the ritual, the seed would not get water that day. Of course, the students are extremely enthusiastic to learn English. Every day, since the planting of the seed, they watered it and observed the progress. The seed, however, was not showing any progress at all.

An image taken on September 5: The garden pot, after the intrusion.

Today, on 5 September 2013, to my utter shock, the garden pot, in which we had planted the pea seed one week back, had many shoots of mustard leaves in it. At first, I could not even discern what those tiny green out growths in the soil were. One of the students from the class said, they were mustard seeds. Clearly, something had gone wrong. After a limited, but efficient enquiry, I realized what happened, and the shock of that still rings in my veins. Someone from the senior students had bullied with the garden pot.

Someone had poured boiling water in the pot and then, later, in order to communicate a conspicuous message of threat, spread mustard seeds in the pot. Clearly, the number of persons involved is vague. They may be two, perhaps, or more. It does not matter who did it, or how many of them were there. What matters ultimately, is why they did such a horrendous action.

Planting the pea seed was a symbolic action—an archetype. Jungian archetypes are sure to connect among human minds, even if words spoken aloud, or written do not make sense. The unconscious self will pick up the sense in the teaching process, through its association with fertility and agriculture. I am sure that this approach will enable language-learning effective. While working on a project full of archetypal symbols and psychological stimulators, the last thing I needed was am interruption. However, I received just the same, and a grave one indeed.

 

Signs of evil: Mustard seeds in the 'Pea for English' pot.

If ‘Pea for English’ was intended to invoke the unconscious capabilities of language acquisition, the bullies had delivered a symbolic blow to the attempt. What I am concerned about more, right now, is not about the Pea for English program itself, but for the mental health of the students. The incident must have surely shaken their unconscious mind, even though they seem not much aware of it, consciously. My next step should be to control the emotional damage in the students.

Both this incident and its influence upon me and the students would definitely etiolate the smooth proceeding of the language class. I wonder what their motives might have been. Were they somehow trying to convey a message to me that I should not give those students the special coaching I was planning to. Or, was their deed just a reflection of the unconscious cultural attitude of Kerala society?

Kerala is notorious for its ill handling of issues related to development, growth, and ethical integrity. An ill equipped and largely corrupt governmental system works its ways down the hill in preserving nature, because for most the “development experts” hired by the government, development means transforming the state into desert, much like the UAE. Any novel idea or innovative model of environmental and social management always meets with harsh criticism and physical assault. Ethical integrity is considered arrogance or dissidence. What else can one expect from a society that has rotten to its core? William Shakespeare’s metaphor of an empty hell is supremely apt here. A dysfunctional society manifests itself in the demonic practices of its individuals.

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The day I found the mustard seeds in the garden pot coincided with the much-celebrated Teachers’ Day in India. On 5 September, the second president of independent India, Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan was born in 1888. He was a prominent philosopher and taught even at the legendary Oxford University. This seems not to be a mere coincidence to me. What I had planted as a symbolic path to knowledge has given me the fruit I was expecting—knowledge. I told the students this; there will be obstructions to each of your dedicated attempts to do better. This should not budge you from your path.

It would be facile to say I am not shaken by the unacceptable event that took place. I am, very much. However, I would like to investigate into their motivation. I am sure I would benefit from it, as seeker of the true knowledge, ‘epignosis’.  



Also refer: Pea for English

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Petrol Price Hike: Revelations

Discretion advised  

Irikkur-Tellicherry Road: on a quiet day

Whenthe price for petrol was increased, I thought the world would end. The politicians, media, and everyone I met on the road was bantering about the same issue. Some worker’s unions called off a motor vehicle strike. Good thing, I thought.

I had thought that I would be able to utilize the one day off by spending time with myself, recharging my batteries, reading a book, and taking a nap. However, there were some familial obligations. Some workers had been arranged on this day to clean our property surrounding the house, and modify some of the landscaping. The question was how I am going to make use of the full potential of the day in my favour.

I had to go out to the town and buy some vegetables, in the morning. Lunch had to be arranged for the workers at home, for there were no restaurants open on this day. I was also doubtful about the vegetable stores. Due to the motor vehicle strike, the number of people on the streets is very less. Therefore, the possibility for stores to open, too, was less. As the motor vehicle strike showed the public anger at the wrong policies of the government, most people might prefer staying at home (except the workers, at home. Strange!). That is how we, in India protest.

Indians, have a childish sulking temper that would be inflamed whenever we discover a government doing backhand deals with corporate powers to sell its own citizens, raise prices of necessary items, or face charges of corruption. As a result, we, the people, would adamantly state that we do not go for work. That’s that!

I have a ten-minute walk to the nearby town, from my home. It was mostly an abandoned road, on which I treaded. The sky was surprisingly bright and blue, and the distant mountains shone in emerald blue with smiling clouds to skirt them from the flirting sun. I thought about my life. I work five days a week, as a lecturer. Sometimes, it even extends to six days. Mostly, I end up having no time with me to work on other areas needed to make one’s life worth living, such as reading, leisure-time, and of course, writing- the elixir for my life.

A white dove fluttered its wings over my head. I heard its sound like in a dream. It reminded me of an old friend of mine, a mysterious old man I met at the sea-town of Tellicherry— Alfadur. He had taught me how to create the Portal of Forward Movement with one’s intent, and how to deliver oneself from the obstacle of staticity.

By staticity, Alfadur had meant the state, where all human beings are unable to perform any sort of forward movement. I was, sadly in the same static state. I did not want to participate in the household and mundane activities on this day, as it was the only day I get to do some recreational work and writing. Alfadur had taught me that I could create the Portal of Forward Movement and project my inner self through the Portal into the dimension I wish to exist. The energy needed for this process was the ‘wish’ or ‘intent’.

I had heard about ‘intent’ in Carlos Castaneda’s works as well, in which it gets a deeper sense as close as the divine power that exists in the cosmos, in an omnipresent state. Alfadur did not tell me about that side of ‘intent’. For him, ‘intent’ was the same as ‘urge’. He called the cosmic energy ‘Ya’, instead of ‘intent’ as seen in Castaneda’s works. Perhaps, Alfadur chose a different word.                 

 

The Portal of Forward Movement

The conditions required for creating the Portal of Forward Movement were ideal to that day’s—a crystal clear sky with shreds of clouds, with a blue scenery in the vicinity. I stopped walking suddenly, and focused all my attention on a piece of cloud floating above me, up in the sky. Then I closed my eyes, and projected all my intention forward, into the space in front of me. The cloud materialized in front of me in a circular shape that stood vertically.

A step forward could make me capable of projecting myself into the dimension of altered reality, where I could write as I want and curl up in my bed with a book, for as long as I wish. And of course, kiss my girl.

After ten minutes, I reached the town. Only one shop that sold vegetables opened. I did not know what I did there. When I came back home, I had a pack of potatoes, and one cucumber, exactly what my mother asked me to buy.

At the same time, there was another me, at another dimension, bringing his words to life.

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