Poetriture

  I am not equipped to answer a deep a question as this, nor is this a discourse. This is a feeble attempt from a fellow human trying to make sense of this universe and our place in it, if there is one. However, this does not absolve me of a responsibility, a standard I hold for myself very strictly, to be chucked out of the window just because I couldn’t think of a better argument in favour for or against this particular tangle. Nevertheless let’s begin. There is a ritual, which I am sure all Hindus you know of do it. If you are a Hindu yourself, you might have done it yourself. After a Pooja of any kind is done, a coconut is broken, with a single blow to the ground, and the liquid is thrown over everyone present. This is a very auspicious thing to do and, if the coconut is broken in a single blow, it is applauded as it is frankly a difficult thing to get right. Anyway, I sat to wonder what the purpose behind it was. Soon I realised that this line of inquiry led me to answers like...

I was once told that I should not define a teacher as, first of all, we all have an intrinsic sense of what a teacher is and secondly, more importantly, “Who are you to define a teacher, let alone your teacher?” I was told that it was demeaning and misguided, though being well intentioned. So, what I had decided to do was to describe what my teachers have been to me. They were never infallible heroes in capes, or magicians who waved their wands and put stuff into my mind. Even though there have been such people who held the post of my teacher, but were extremely unsuccessful in teaching me a single word. But I don’t consider them my teachers, anyway. They were just people, who could not teach. I might have been a tough student, to them, but I was never afraid to ask questions. I never felt silly or stupid to ask a question on fundamentals, in advanced classes, and such “teachers” never left a chance for me to not feel ashamed of myself. But that is where my teachers shined. They t...

We can easily imagine nature to be a detached, cold entity. It does not concern itself with the lives of so many that thrive in it. A sudden earthquake and a million lives lost, all to be seen blankly by the cold eyes of Nature. Important personalities, villages, humongous cities all turning to dust. A few good cultures survive for some time, then even they crumble before the strength of time. This is one species, entire kingdoms fall, none can be said to be permanent. All this is seen by the nature to be a mere passing of a flock of pigeons to us. From this one infers that, the nature is a disinterested power, merely waiting for all the life to end. And not just life, all things to end. The only constant entity that exists from the beginning of the universe. It sits there, observing without interfering the mechanisms of the growth of grass, flap of wings of birds, to the explosions of supernovae. None seem to stimulate a reply from the nature. There seems no way from which we ...