Of fresh snow, and other things

The first snowfall of this winter in Ipswich landed as expected today. As I stepped out office today (yes, we were working though it is a Saturday), I noticed with pleasure the signs of snow - a whitened bed of lawn, glistening with the recently melted drops of water. The orange glow of the street lights added to the beauty of the scene, while the barren trees, laden with a thin layer of ice, completed my mental picture of the onset of winter in these latitudes. Yes, I suppose the English will probably have a White Christmas, though it's still early days.

Well, the "other things" that I'd like to talk about in this post are concerning, not surprisingly, human nature; more specifically, the sort of human nature that sees slovenliness as something that's less than disagreeable. What sort of person likes to leave used cups and dishes lying all around the house? Which category of IT professional sees nothing wrong in producing programs that are not only not in keeping with widely accepted good principles, but are also riddled with errors? Why do people settle for quick and dirty solutions when a few more minutes of reflection would readily lead them on to products that are closer to perfection? I suppose answers to these questions are difficult to arrive at, but I shall at least make an attempt.

The person who thinks nothing of keeping a sloppy house is probably of the opinion that it's quite all right to do so, even if he is sharing the house with a few others. Such a person is less likely to be considerate of others' wishes in this regard. He thinks - and maybe hopes - that those others would clean up after him. and if the others are sticklers for cleanliness, he would probably be right too. Convenient!

The IT professional who thinks it's beneath him to spend a few more minutes perfecting a program that he's been charged with writing, is usually the same one who does many things with a lack of thoroughness. He's more concerned about finishing his work than about finishing it right. More often than not, you wouldn't dare to dream of trusting him to turn out well-written code, and would probably insist on getting it reviewed it a couple of times, assuming you don't belong in the same category yourself! And I daresay you'll find a few major bugs waiting to creep up on you too.

What is it that people lack which fails to impel them towards doing something in a less than perfect manner? Shouldn't they at least make an attempt to improve their work? What failing in their nature is responsible for sabotaging the general human endeavour towards betterment? Is that attribute of human nature that has helped mankind make massive strides towards its material improvement no longer prized? Is it no longer important to take pride in your work, and consider your job as something that merely pays the bills? I don't know...

Science for its own sake

Even for someone very interested in science, technology and its applications to our lives, I can't quite understand why people would spend enormous amounts of time and money in pursuing something like this. I mean, what's the point? And whom are you proving it to? This is not even in the category of those findings that one would associate with "pure science", since it's all about some exotic category of numbers (I found about what Mersenne primes are, btw, but I'm sure I'll forget all about them in a week or two). What exactly does this huge monster of a number mean to scientists anyway?

For all of science's claim to rationality, such news argues against it. And I, for one, am not impressed; not one bit!

Related Article

Excellent and somewhat humorous article

That is definitely worth a read (click the "Related Article" at the end of this post to know what I mean)! A warning to all those wannabe terrorists :-)

On an unrelated note, the title of that page reminds me, as it should, of "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" by James Joyce. That's a bit weird because though I've heard the title of that story many times, especially during my college days, I've never been able to get down to reading it. Blame it on Joyce's style, or maybe my limited intelligence / aesthetics, but I never could read those deader-than-fish-out-of-water stream-of-consciousness writers.

Related Article

Technology in our lives

Technology makes our lives come a full circle, but not the way we might have expected.

We invented gadgets and devices to give us more time for leisure. Then we found more things to do in our leisure which, surprise, resulted in us having less leisure. And then the realisation hit us (thanks to TVs, endless ads and gossip columns about movie stars who have "six-pack" abs) that we are, horror of horrors, not healthy and fit. So what do we do? Go to gyms, and use the ultra-high-tech stuff to become "healthy" or lose weight. There are also people who have "discovered" that doing household chores helps in keeping the surging calory levels in check too; and they trumpet their discoveries to their social peers, thereby proving their humility and social liberal-mindedness. Of course, their parents and forefathers did not know better (and don't you dare tell them otherwise unless you're prepared for a prolonged argument) though they might have been telling us exactly the same thing - that being self-reliant (translate that into "do your work yourself") also keeps you healthy, besides giving you a sense of satisfaction. There, I digress as usual.

This new-found health in turn makes us feel better, and so we feel we have earned the right to indulge a little. Just a little. In no time at all, the little turns into "a little more", and then, before we know it, we're back where we started - we have no time.

Technology makes our lives come a full circle, but not the way we might have expected.

If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!

No, that's not my original line, but it pretty much explains how we humans are able to do something more than our normal 100% when pushed to what would be our limit.

I think we all have heard of people performing remarkable deeds of physical courage, bravery and strength when faced with grave danger to self or loved ones. What I find even more remarkable is people do it sometimes even when they're not well. My mother was one such person - when my dad fell ill and had to be hospitalised, not only was she able to ignore her own ailments, but she also exhibited such extraordinary strength (both physical and mental) that she herself did not realise she possessed. These instances only go to show how the age-old debate of mind vs. matter is actually quite irrelevant; it's always the mind that matters!

In the case of my mother, her pains returned once dad was pronounced normal by the doctors - proof yet again that human beings are capable of ignoring physical pain for as long as is necessary, and that the limits that we set on our own capacity are, for the most part, absolutely self-imposed. In other words, "whether we think we can, or whether we think we cannot, we're usually right."

Don't ridicule science

I'm angry; I'm furious! Why? Because of the shabby way in which some ISKCON propagandists treated certain scientific theories.

I attended a session at my office which promised to offer relief from work-induced stress, among other things. More out of curiosity than anything else, I had decided to attend these sessions, which were going to be conducted once a week for six weeks. The first of these sessions was good in that it raised a few points about how we busy ourselves with one major purpose - being happy - with its auxiliary , money-making. It was somewhat predictable, but it had its good points too. All in all, I was content, with the expectation that things would start moving further along in the coming weeks. I was in for a surprise.

Yesterday happened to be the second of these sessions. And it was conducted by a different person who, it seemed to me, not only seemed to have a poor command over English (the language in which he was speaking), but also had a distinct bias to listen only to those members in the audience who gave answers that supported his views. To be fair, he did let a few debates among the audience happen, but the overall impression was one of inadequate preparation, or more accurately, inadequate information on the topic that he was expounding.

One of the main things that were being discussed was how God's creation is so perfect: how the planets are so perfectly arranged in our solar system; how very precisely positioned the earth was to support life as we know it; how beautifully the human body was created; yada, yada, yada. And then he went on to talk about why we shouldn't always trust our senses (our senses are not perfect), or our own intelligence and / or theories put forth by other people. Therefore, he argued, we should resort to accepting truth from trustworthy sources, namely the religious scriptures. Of course, it left unanswered the very important question "But how do we know the scriptures are trustworthy?"

Ignoring, for the moment, the very obvious contradiction in his statements (perfect creation, but imperfect senses, etc.), let's come to the heart of the matter that I want to highlight. Illustrating how human intelligence has "a tendency to be inaccurate" [his assertion, not mine], he pointed out certain contradictions in the theory of evolution as put forth by Darwin. He quoted a few sentences from his famous work, and also a few other statements allegedly made by him, and asked us to judge for ourselves whether such a weak theory was even plausible. A classic sign of weak logic is an appeal to one's emotions, and he exhibited it in abundance. But more than what he said, it was the way he said it, and the irony of it all, that got me.

There he was, pointing out the flaws and contradictions in Darwin's theory, when his own presentation was riddled with holes. He said that trustworthiness of a source (like some of the Indian holy books) could be determined by the number of citations that the source gets - a technique that Google's founders would be well versed with - but refused to acknowledge that Darwin's theory is widely cited. A very, very poor presentation, and one that doesn't do any good to the image of ISKCON at all.

And now, it leaves me wondering whether I should be attending these sessions any more....

Fast, feast and God

I was having lunch with a colleague, and as I waited for him to join me at the table with the food ordered from the café, I was surprised to find that he was having only fruit slices for lunch. Being a good eater myself, I asked him what the matter was, and he said, between mouthfuls, that he was fasting today since it was Shivaraathri. He went on to add disapprovingly, still between mouthfuls, that they – the caterers – did not offer any upvaas food on this occasion. Did you notice the oxymoron in “upvaas food”, or is it just me?

It’s sometimes really funny what we do in the name of God. We observe fasts in deference to Him; we also feast, delighting in His victory over evil (ignore, for a moment, that God has no good or evil, since He is above all attributes). Is it normal that human beings can starve themselves as well as gorge themselves in the name of one Divine entity? Does it even make sense?

My take on fasts is that they are useful for us, humans, in two ways:

1. they help us keep our taste buds in check
2. they give our digestive system a break from their daily, almost non-stop routine

What do you think? Is there any hope for human beings at all in the light of such oddball behaviour?

Whither the Brahmin?

I have maintained, ever since I knew enough to form opinions, that I can't be truly called a Brahmin. Nor, for that matter, anyone today who has been born to people who call themselves Brahmins. Incidentally, that's the best that can be said about us today - people who call themselves Brahmins.

No, I am not a supporter of one Mr.E.V.R. who took it upon himself to harrass this community as much as he could. No sir! Contrary to that man's view, I hold that the Varna system of categorising people has enough merit to justify its existence even in these days. Where I find concurrence with his views is that it has become, in its present form, a vicious form of oppression, a self-perpetuating one at that, since its practitioners don't want to bow down to reason, or even the authority of the very scriptures that they swear by.

'Cho' Ramaswamy's brilliant and fictional account of a contemporary "Brahmin" family argues the case suggested by the title of this post in such a cogent manner that I cannot even hope to match it sometime in the future. Titled "Enge Brahmanan" and sold by Alliance Publishers, it brings out the subtle shades of human nature that is mostly seen by everyone but not acknowledged by many, since that would mean that we look deep within ourselves; something that calls for the greatest kind of courage there can ever be - the courage to self-examine.

Grab a copy if you care about this topic. Or even if you don't.

Love; How to name it; A dog

A lazy Sunday found me up at my usual time. I wanted to start my day with music, as is my wont - preferably Carnatic Classical - but my MP3 player had other ideas. It chose Ilayaraja's How to name it? As the music wafted from the disorderly and somewhat untidy living room, I finished my brushing and splashed some water on my face to drive the last remnants of sleep away. That done, and fresh now, I opened the door to the balcony where the scene that unfolded brought tears to my eyes and simultaneously made me think of love. As the title of this post may have suggested, it involves a dog.

There was a fat lady who seemed to be bending down - with great effort, considering her bulk - to pick up something. As it turned out, she was petting a neighbourhood dog, one that stays with the people of the nearby slum, and which is prone to sudden bouts of barking for no apparent reason. There was a certain menacing look about this creature that always made me give it a wide berth when I passed it by. It was quite visibly an old dog, and had obviously seen better days. Yet, one could detect a certain dignity in its bearing that was quite unmistakable. It knew its place on earth, and was not ashamed of it; on the contrary, it was quite proud of who it was and where it was living its last days.

Coming back to the spectacle that I was keenly watching, the dog seemed quite animated and was thoroughly enjoying the outpouring of affection from the friendly woman. In all probability, such affectionate petting did not come its way every day, so it seemed to be grateful to find someone after all who loved it so much.

The woman seemed to be saying something to the animal even as she was stroking it. And then, it was time for her to leave, so she mounted her bike and with a few parting words, went on her way. Or so it seemed to me. Even as I continued to watch the dog in fascination, the lady came back and accosted the dog, which had not moved off yet, again. The dog looked back, and even though it seemed to understand that the lady was calling it, did not go back to her as I thought it would. It seemed as if it wanted to, but the physical effort proved to be too great for it to oblige the lady's wish. The lady seemed a trifle disappointed too, but went her way after asking it once more to come with her. The dog watched her leave, and then finally walked back painfully to its home.

I felt touched by the exchange of love between these two beings. On the surface, there was nothing to it: a simple case of a dog-lover finding a friendly dog and the dog responding in a way that only dogs can. But I found that this not-so-common scene struck some deep chord within me. I thought to myself, this is how all of God's creatures were supposed to live - in peace, love, and simplicity. Instead, look at what we humans have wrought: we love, but our expression of love is conditioned by what we read, what we see in movies and what we think society will approve of. In short, our love is not first-hand but is controlled by a nameless, faceless entity which is not quite there, but whose commands we obey nevertheless. And in extreme cases, there is no love at all, only conditioning.

I felt weighed down by these thoughts and it was only the uplifting music of Ilayaraja's How to name it? that helped me recover, though the music did make me shed some tears of happiness at the recollection of the mini-drama that I was privileged to watch. "A dog's life' is not all that bad, you know.

I believe

A long time ago, I read somewhere that happiness and sadness are merely different perspectives inspired by our current understanding of who we are and what we think will make us happy. Thus it is that the toy that made us ecstatic when we were toddlers does not even interest us when we were teenagers. With every passing event that makes me unhappy, I realize that they may perhaps be lessons reinforcing that very thought: that the whole of this life as we perceive it may be nothing more than a veil pulled over our eyes to prevent us from seeing the obvious truth (that's borrowed from The Matrix, but it's relevant here); that only when we are truly aware of our own selves can lasting happiness be ours. This realization fades in and out of my consciousness according as whether I'm happy or sad – when I’m happy, I’m usually unaware of it, though that's not always the case. When I am sad, however, such thoughts flit across my mind more often. Perhaps Kunti Devi was right – it’s only when we’re really despondent that we tend to think of God.

I deeply, strongly believe that the way our brains are wired, the families we are born into, the skills / abilities we are born with, and the friends we acquire over our lifetimes are all determined by the law of karma; that genetics and inheritance are but tools of this law which is universal in its application; that this law is inescapable whether or not you believe in it; that it's possible to transcend it only by a total realization of our true nature which is pure awareness; that we are all progressing towards such a state in our own individual ways. That whatever we do with our minds, we'll fall short of It.

Does that mean I'm a fatalist and an advocate of inaction? Hardly! You've got to do what you've got to do, even when things seem so pointless. Inaction is for the weak-minded and impotent, or those who chronically and endlessly wallow in self-pity.