Tusar N Mohapatra

Boita Bandana in Delhi

2011-11-11T22:04:00.001+05:30

November 10, 2011

Padhile janibu

2011-09-10T22:35:00.001+05:30

Sailo Jharapara to Shipra Riviera

2011-08-20T08:53:00.000+05:30

Introduction

Tusar N. Mohapatra

President, Savitri Era Party. [Savitri Era of those who adore, Om Sri Aurobindo & The Mother.]
Director, Savitri Era Learning Forum. [SELF posits a model of counselling and communicative action as an instrument in order to stimulate the public sphere. The model aims at supplementing the individual’s struggle for a successful social adjustment with more aspirational inputs so as to help one take an informed and balanced attitude towards life as well as society.]
SRA-102-C, Shipra Riviera, Indirapuram, Ghaziabad, U.P. - 201014, India.
0120-2605636, + 91 96500-65636
tusarnmohapatra@gmail.com
Savitri Era

Bragging rights

6th among 3 brothers & 4 sisters born to Lakshmi and Chintamani (then, a teacher at Christ Collegiate School, Cuttack, Odisha)

Occupation

Blogtender

Employment

Savitri Era Learning Forum
Director, 2000 - present
Savitri Era Party
President, 2007 - present
Punjab National Bank
Clerk/Cashier/Officer, 1977 - 2000
Sailo Jharapara High School
Teacher, 1976 - 1977

Education

Sailo Jharapara UP/ME/High School
Matriculation, 1960 - 1971
B.J.B. College, Bhubaneswar
Pre-University, 1971 - 1972
Regional Institute of Education, Bhubaneswar
B.Sc., B.Ed., 1972 - 1976
Professional (Banking)
C.A.I.I.B., 1980 - 1990

The Mother’s many volcanic ideas that shook us in the school days

2011-07-22T21:33:00.000+05:30

Quit quickly

One of The Mother’s many volcanic ideas that shook us in the school days and hooked us to her lasso is that the flowers decorating her photo need not be thrown away daily. Each flower, we were told, has the right to serve the divine as long as it remains fresh through shuffling and sprinkling of water. That was a radical challenge to the traditional canons of pollution consigning the basiphula to the drains round which lyricists have waxed eloquent down the years. [TNM] 1:27 PM Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Wooing the shoes

Another amazing concession was offering prayers with the ubiquitous Bata slippers on without the punishing stipulation of the head touching the ground. The Mother apparently was empathetic with our being tormented by such tyranny over the youngsters during umpteen religious ceremonies day in and day out. Many Centres still shoo away the shoes for reasons of hygiene and decorum and the genuflecting posture is a common sight. But the young ones must be rebelling still. [TNM] 1:13 PM Thursday, December 16, 2010

Auroville must be returned to its rightful owners

The ubiquitous Soviet Land in our school days used to be a coveted source of color pages for covering the text books. No one was interested in its official propaganda. [TNM] 5:11 PM Saturday, November 06, 2010

Dr. Raghu can still redeem his reputation

Because the truth is that I have no means to prove that Sri Aurobindo was divine; and rather out of my self-interest I attribute divinity onto him. It’s a free choice and others are equally free to treat him as per their sweet will. [TNM] 8:52 PM Thursday, October 28, 2010

The national spirit & Sri Aurobindo

Growing up amidst myriad family celebrations and religious festivals in honour of multiple gods and goddesses makes the members of the so-called Hindu society pretty credulous. Competing cosmologies drawn from diverse sources of mythology and branches of philosophy keep the embers of confusion burning in most minds. The national spirit, therefore, struggles to find its feet for ever. Nothing strong and enduring can be built as long as this love affair with perpetual uncertainty persists. The Life Divine and its worldview must rule our minds. Nothing less than a national campaign can achieve this. [TNM] 9:30 PM Sunday, August 08, 2010

Lure of Ramli

The scintillating Odissi by Ramli Ibrahim and his student at Kamani yesterday showcasing labyrinths of tantric imageries was a compelling interrogation as well as dialogue between art and ontology. The age old questions, it seemed, remains unresolved. [TNM] 10:15 AM Tuesday, August 03, 2010

Covering Heehs imbroglio can be a more absorbing book

Without reading a single title that Heehs has so assiduously authored over the years, it is surely unfair to offer a critique of his output; his alleged misadventure in the pages of The Lives of Sri Aurobindo, however, has already made history. [TNM] 6:40 PM Sunday, August 01, 2010

Miltonic afflatus

Much water has flown down Hindon Cut during my five years as a blogtender, and it has been a learning process throughout. Many years back, I read something to the effect:

“No matter, if you haven’t read Wordsworth or Byron;

Neither had Shakespeare nor Milton.”

This piece of self-help maxim has been a morale booster in general and for blogging in particular. Thanks everyone. [TNM] [Savitri Era of those who adore, Om Sri Aurobindo and The Mother.] 8:43 PM Saturday, June 19, 2010

Unveiling the secrets of the ancient zodiac

2011-07-21T22:24:00.000+05:30

[From Harish Kumar date 21 July 2011 21:22 subject A Personal Request Hi Tusar,

As a follower of Sri Aurobindo and The Mother, I would like to address the Aurobindonian Community, which is dedicated to furthering the dreams and aims of Sri Aurobindo. I have certain questions for which I would like answers from His followers. Since you are one of the leading lights of the Aurobindo Movement and have a blog which is objective and is dedicated to the quest for truth, I would like to address the Aurobindonian Community through your forum. I hope you will accede to my request. Love & Regards, Harish Kumar]

From Tusar N. Mohapatra tusarnmohapatra@gmail.com date 21 July 2011 22:08

If you are interested in my views then I would repeat that the “Third” claim is unacceptable and repulsive. Please disclose your age, occupation, location, contact number, and postal address so that frank exchange of views is possible in future. You may approach Robert or Lori for publishing your “Questions to Aurobindonians” article. [TNM55]

I don’t subscribe to mythological stories and I’m not very well versed in matters esoteric

2011-07-21T18:12:00.000+05:30

Re: Integral Leadership by Anurag Banerjee Mirror of Tomorrow by Tusar N. Mohapatra on Thu 21 Jul 2011 01:16 PM IST | Profile | Permanent Link

I too had heard Derrida in New Delhi in 1997 without understanding a word of his lecture, but I won’t blame him for that. The memory of meeting him, however, is now a cherished treasure. [TNM55] 1:14 PM

by Tusar N. Mohapatra on Tue 19 Jul 2011 03:51 PM IST | Profile | Permanent Link

I’m not very well versed in matters esoteric, but by definition, harbouring confusion should be out of question for “unmediated experience” (to me, a theoretical construct), I suppose. [TNM55] 3:33 PM

Re: The Lives of Sri Aurobindo says Savitri is a fictional creation by Tusar N. Mohapatra on Thu 13 Aug 2009 12:20 PM IST | Profile | Permanent Link

I don’t subscribe to mythological stories. As in The Secret of the Veda, I am interested in the “symbol” aspect and not in the fiction (katha) part. Again, the symbol is all. [TNM]

Six years of Savitri Era Learning Forum

The phrase “Savitri Era” needs to be popularised for easy identity “for all Sri Aurobindo and Divine Mother followers” and Jitendra, through his blog, has extended a helping hand. As for the socio-political matters, I am ploughing a lonely furrow with much trepidation. All the best. [TNM55] 8:21 AM

Savitri Era: Blog and frog and elephant 21 Nov 2008

Cow & wordbook

Being commanded to write an essay was, no doubt, the most formidable prospect in the school. The journey began with the unforgettable, “The cow is a four footed animal,” the overall limit being ten sentences. In a blog post too, this looks like an ideal limit within which one can fairly express his opinion on a particular subject with sufficient clarity. Even the mandatory, Introduction, Argument, Conclusion etc. can be accommodated, in a nutshell. Sonnet, it seems, is the poetic counterpart of this format. The Twitter (140 characters), of course, is more popular now which can be compared with Haiku (17 syllables).

Wordbook was an indispensable companion for learning English; its pocket size being more endearing. Once a person came to the school to sell a new wordbook which he had authored in the form of poems and recited them. Father, Mother, Brother, Sister / Aunt, Uncle, Son, Daughter / Wife, Husband, Friend, Neighbour. The fourth line, I no longer remember. [TNM] 2:40 PM

Google Yoga

Google Reader is a great facility and over the years I have cherry picked nearly 200 feeds, not all of them equally active. Besides, Google Alert keeps on replenishing my inbox on more than a dozen topics. Then, of course, the continual scanning of Google News and conducting sundry searches, squeezing in a few You Tubes in between. All these happen in the normal course powered by sheer curiosity, and we may safely christen it as Google Yoga! [TNM] 10:34 AM

No more hiding for Hindi

On a couple of occasions, I remember, Mohan Joshiji might have convinced someone for purchasing Savitri at the Book Fair, and if he insists on the Hindi translation, then the search for the book would begin. But no luck. Dr. Gyanchandra used to hide the copies and was loath to recommend them. I'm happy, therefore, to read his eulogy for the recent Hindi transcreation by Dr. K. N. Varma in the current Karmdhara. [TNM] 4:32 PM

Meaning and music

Rajat Kar used to offer around a dozen interpretations for each line of poetry at the Bhanja Jayanti celebrations in Cuttack. Being a school-goer then, it was not possible to comprehend them all. This year's SAHMAT celebration on January 1st was on Faiz, and I missed out on the meaning of most of the recitations. Musical renditions, however, were amply rewarding. [TNM] 1:22 PM [YouTube - Kie Dakere - Odia Song (Jeeban Sathi 1963) 16 Apr 2011 Voice: Tusar N. Mohapatra Dedicated to the memory of Pradyumna Kumar Mohapatra (1965-2011)]

Tusar N. Mohapatra is blogging since 2005

2011-06-09T20:08:00.002+05:30

Tusar N. Mohapatra (b. 1955) is Founder President of Savitri Era Party that draws inspiration from the teachings of Sri Aurobindo and The Mother. As Director of Savitri Era Learning Forum (SELF) based in Indirapuram, Ghaziabad, he has been engaged in blogging since 2005 for dissemination of integral approach to self-development. His comments on diverse subjects appear regularly at Savitri Era. A selection of his poems is at Tusar N Mohapatra and his voice at silikaa (You Tube). Other notable blogs tended by him are rainbOwther, Musepaper, Marketime, Feel Philosophy, & Evergreen Essays. Besides, he is Advisor of Odia Mahamanch. [TNM55]

Video: Tusar N. Mohapatra

2011-05-29T13:17:00.000+05:30

Kie Dakere - Odia Movie Song (Jeeban Sathi 1963)

235 views

Eka Eka Mane Mane - Odia Movie Song (Ghara Bahuda 1973)

143 views

Aakhi Bhula E Suaga - Odia Movie Song (Manika Jodi 1963)

112 views

Khili Khili Nali (Odisha Smiles)

64 views - Folk number

Tume Jana Na - Odia Movie Song (Kaa 1966)

24 views - 1 day ago

Apropos Angiras

2009-04-19T12:20:00.003+05:30

Sunday, April 19, 2009 Lest he resurrect

Unsung, his memory shall live on
Orphaned, his essays lie forlorn.

Death the victor, nothing to rejoice
Ideal thing: had he had to confess.
Fame, they say, comes only after death
Give the devil* his due, the Bard sayth.
(*No pun intended)

A controversy compelled his birth
Conflict, a cause célèbre raged on earth
Epistles, angry, unsavory
Composed in taut prose not so hoary
Were doing the rounds telling disgust
Against an author and no love lost.

He wrote their rejoinders brick by brick
Until the harried readers fell sick
Uproar arose to call it a halt
He crafted his own grave by default
Consigned to oblivion, he stands tall
A la Rajkumar in Neelkamal. [TNM]

Reply at 8:59 AM Re: Poetry Time: 18 April 2009: The Death of Angiras—an Obituary by Tusar N. Mohapatra on Sat 18 Apr 2009 09:22 AM IST Profile Permanent on Sat 18 Apr 2009 06:35 PM IST Permanent Link on Sun 19 Apr 2009 11:44 AM IST Permanent Link on Sun 19 Apr 2009 12:30 PM IST Permanent Link

Apropos of evil rose

2008-12-14T08:27:00.003+05:30

Re: Of Falsehood and Evil—A Poem
by Tusar N. Mohapatra on Sun 14 Dec 2008 08:55 AM IST Profile Permanent Link

"crop of evil rose" -- so poignant!
But it is difficult to stand the epithet "evil" for rose; it's too cruel.

Possible alternative of the last line:
But please softly, for the favour it does.

Sailo Jharapara to Jhumri Tilaiya

2008-12-12T18:53:00.005+05:30

As long as fingers pound away on keyboards, language will ever seduce and stave off fossilizing. [TNM] Friday, December 12, 2008 5:30 PM

Defending denial and doubt is as paramount as their other extreme in the dialectic. [TNM] Monday, December 08, 2008 9:06 AM

"A devotee" "of simple sincerity" or "the simple peasant" is as illusive as R. K. Laxman's The Common Man or a telescopic view of Jhumri Tilaiya. [TNM] Monday, December 01, 2008 9:35 PM

This is purely a belief system that has crystallized as a Religion over the years. There is, therefore, no reason why this lived-option be questioned, derided, or vilified. [TNM] Tuesday, November 25, 2008 3:03 PM

The skeptic is firm in his "belief" that there are "veils of myth" that need to be pulled aside and that is his prime task. Conversely, Sri Aurobindo, in all his works, questions this subversive tendency of the human mind, and pleads for overturning such a perspective. Invoking Pascal, one can safely infer that it is much more profitable to start with a Vedic Yes than a Buddhist No. [TNM] Saturday, November 22, 2008 8:00 AM

The beauty of a blog is in its brevity, or so we suppose who prefer to take cover under the Kautilyan dictum of keeping mum being the strength of the unwise and Chaucer's to make virtue of necessity as inspiration dries up after half a line invariably every fine morning.
On the other hand we have RY Deshpande who returns with his Mirror of Tomorrow and Savitri: the Light of the Supreme whose “endless” elephantine essays ever bewilder like the “topless” towers of Ilion. Welcome. [TNM] Saturday, November 22, 2008 9:28 AM

Humility is deservedly a coveted virtue but if it reaches this level of lightness, then it becomes unbearable. [TNM] Thursday, November 20, 2008 6:28 PM

Tusar N Mohapatra said... A perfect case of shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted is underway as what is feared has already happened and the situation cannot be changed. [TNM]Wednesday, November 19, 2008 8:11 PM

Investing one's trust in the virtue of status quoism is as much a symptom of inertia as an abiding faith in Perennial Philosophy. [TNM] Tuesday, November 18, 2008 8:45 AM

Name Origin

2007-09-21T13:06:00.000+05:30

Colorado, Denver, United States 21st September 2007 01:47:08
www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=tusar mohapatra name origin

Tusar (usually, Tushar) - Snow

Nath - Owner, Master (allusion to Lord Shiva)

Mohapatra (usually, Mahapatra) - Eminent person

2007-08-01T18:00:00.000+05:30

Ode to the Unknown Reader

You come visiting every now and then
Either by some chance or by volition
May be several times within a day
And like to linger a little over there.

Must be due to some sly affinity
Like companionship in a sweet dream
Or the caress of a stealthy lover
Then you too leave, often without comments.

No appointments or answering doorbells
And we meet, talk, ruminate over things
Agreements or many disagreements
Your silent feelings inspire my next post.

Many are too restless to stay awhile
And leave the singe of their troubled psyche
But I refuse to be infected by angst
Or any agnostic peroration.

In the new world: I blog, therefore I am
Perhaps we equally need each other
More so for me, the belief that you exist
And in the frequency of your visits.

I sleep, I walk, I swim but still I am
Abroad in the expanse of cyberspace
Anticipation of your sweet footfall
Simmers forever in my tremulous heart.

[Wed-050706]

Symbiosis

2006-10-19T17:45:00.000+05:30

Why fear the clash of civilizations
Why panic at demise of languages
Why dread the prospect of abolishing
Of geographical boundaries.

In a constant state of flux, the cultures
Are always competing with each other
For war is the father of everything
Spur of growth comes from antagonism.

In a tacit pact of mutualism
They are seen at times in commensalisms
Parasitism is not tolerated
It is verily a dog eat dog world.

The cross-cultural choreography
Is spreading contagion of fusion
It is to be seen in the days ahead
How the castes would preserve their purity.

Traits and preponderance of qualities
Hallmarks of ethnic identities fuse
What emerges from the post-modern cauldron
Would go against monolithic notion.

Let a million freedom-flowers bloom
Let us sing in a billion strong tongues
May we unite in our aspirations
To build the one Gnostic community.

[Mon-151104]

2006-07-04T17:48:00.000+05:30

Protocol

May be with all good intentions
When we called them ‘Harijans’
It became a political ploy
Where the symbol reigned over substance.

The idea of God in man, ‘Nara-Narayana’
Became the voter-based ‘Janta-Janardan’
God, the Lord, the Omnipotent king
Was now represented by a human being.

His Excellency is the titular head of state
Although in his name the administration runs
And he goes through mock rituals and reverence
In effect, a mere rubber stamp: the sham thickens.

Then what to talk of an ordinary voter
Doesn’t matter if he dies of hunger
As a beneficiary of the welfare state
The citizen is hardly a stakeholder.

Justice is no less a pretension
It’s virtually an arbitration
One court over-rules another, so often
In their self-righteous make-believe world.

Each ‘Pradesh’ is seen as ‘pardesh’
Nationalism idea seems contrived
Democracy, patriotism, all alien
Everybody enjoys this cloaks and masks game.

[Fri-070901-md]

2006-07-04T12:04:00.000+05:30

Momentum

No point simply to straddle along
Quick, quick! Clamber up, bugger
To catch up with the rest of them
You must drum up that killer instinct.

There’s always room at the top
And when nothing short of sky is the limit
It certainly pays to be ambitious
And be in the pursuit of excellence.

Even if fame lasts for only fifteen minutes
Everything is fair in the age of unreason
Beg, borrow or steal, whatever you can
For heaven’s sake, somebody become.

Hell with to be in the queue
One must become at least a who’s who
Once there, you must learn a small trick
To pull the rug from under the others’ feet.

Nobody would offer it on a platter
You must do your own positioning
To be able to snatch when the chance comes
And grab it for as long as you prefer.

It is a curse to be at the receiving end
Hierarchy, a hard fact of life as of Nature
To be upward mobile is of course a virtue
But an inward gaze is infinitely better, still.

[Thu-270901]

Herald

2006-06-12T10:15:00.000+05:30

If the Life-heavens are immune and pure
Free from any Manichean double-fault
The promised Harmony is very much a possibility
For being a blossoming pure potentiality.

Whence the deity’s three-some steps
Pervade the earth, the heaven and inferno
And what is grotesque is pressed into the past
Still chaos rules over the present-world.

Let’s be sucklers of the future then
And aspirants to the hidden harmony
What hasn’t come has of course to come
The heralds are but sure signs.

It has been a long wait of epochs together
For lilies and birds and swans and seagulls
Man’s reach is extending from moon to the sun
Yet his heart’s spark is out of his bounds.

And that one day when all would change
We shall swim in the plenary sunshine
Dwell in the happy home of Harmony
Of love and knowledge as warf and woof.

It’s a promise of possibility, unimpeachable
It’s because of tomorrow that today becomes bearable
Let’s awake to the lure of that alchemy
And pine for a pinch of that Panergy.

[Wed-150801]

Mask

2006-06-12T10:10:00.000+05:30

‘Formula fixated’, ‘go-with-the-flow story’
‘Optical opium’ of ‘Good triumphs’
‘Reflection’ hard on a pre-reflective habit
‘Porous chorus’ cuddles the ‘spoon-fed’ crowd.

Culture shock in ‘intricate patterns of morality’
Soaked in ‘rich textural ramifications
‘Dense dimensions’ of ‘psychological inferences’
If falls on deaf ears, it’s of no wonder.

‘The all-pervasive darkness of mood’
When ‘good-face bad-face mask’ is unveiled
And ‘taking the audience into confidence’
Perhaps it’s crime to ‘treat the audience maturely.’

With all that excellent promos and hype
Raunchy music and ‘sleaziest’ dance numbers
‘A classic in retrospect,’ no small consolation
Even as its tribe ‘sets impossible standards.’

‘Keeping the faith alive helps a creative’ soul
‘To abide by his convictions’, ‘success or failure’
Set him free in he ‘visualizes’ ‘the way’
May the ‘Mera-Naam-Director’ have his say.

[Sun-050801-Aks-Skj]

Conundrum

2006-06-12T10:04:00.000+05:30

How ecstatic is the first sight of the sea
The vast body of blue overwhelms you
The arch of distant horizon takes afar
One feels instantly some celestial joy.

But a few moments later it vanishes
Giving way to a gloomy state of mind
For the comparision brings home the fact
That man is such a puny little creature.

From Chaos and Strings to Games theory
Man strives to get at the driver’s saddle
One tsunami or Katrina dislodges
All his claims to superiority.

The Logistics follows no sane logic
The manners of Marketime are secret
One Invisible hand rules everything
Evolution or creationism.

Secular affairs in the meanwhile
Continue pretending to be wholesome
Man works and earns as if all on his own
And leaves some tip for sentiments god ward.

The conundrum of sacred and mundane
Is the most riddle-some issue for man
The illusion-of-the-obvious blinds
And man gropes for the real road for ever.

[Sat-131005]

Collusion

2006-06-12T09:50:00.000+05:30

The newspaper and its staple offerings
Politics finance and the current affairs
Are apparently matters of no concern
To a religious-minded spiritual person.

The secular and all mundane contraptions
Are engagements of lower persuations
But isn’t this world of multiplicity
Another facet of Divine reality?

Where and how then to draw the dividing line
Between the sacred and the undivine
To see in a murder or some misfortune
The Cosmic hand is not unreasonable.

To adore the Divine in its seclusion
Would be to acquit it of patent collusion
And hence why not insist on an open trial
Till it divulges the Midas magic formula.

Till then to banish philosophy from life
And the world would be myopic ventures
For if we really look at it aright
It’s all the playfulness of the sacred.

So no point in drawing separate charts
For all fall under the concurrent list
What seems secular or merely academic
Is nothing but whims of an Imperiality.

[Thu-120902]

2006-02-20T17:24:00.000+05:30

Teleology

Parents, grand-parents and great-grand-parents
My life is half-way of a long story
Of innumerable births, growth and deaths
Like philosophies rise from each other.

Earth’s solar parentage and Milky-way
With its fraternity of galaxies
Speak of a fine mysterious epic
And sing the glory of epiphany.

History or science and technology
Are garlands connected by unseen threads
Events or objects are mere facades
Imbricated, inter-penetrated.

The world we see and live in with others
Is crowded by our countless worlds within
And in constant exchange of the forces
And influences of the other worlds.

Tales like Bush & son vs. Saddam, Laden
Are therefore not easy to comprehend
Social sciences which fail to factor in
The ET are futile speculations.

The many-layered existence of truth
Complex-notions of teleology
Must seize our thought and action all the time
That’s how we become true to ourselves.

[Wed-031104]

2006-02-20T17:19:00.000+05:30

Logistics

After Krishna Chaitanya left Jiwan Pani
And Raghav Menon followed suit on Tuesday
Music or dance, art or philosophy
The brute body is the bottom-line.

Whole life spent on deciphering right
Between the lines or behind the screen-
For being creative is to have ‘vision to lie’-
And finding beauty in her original home.

In times of mass massacre by missiles
When freedom is in ferment, justice means war
And oil is the issue and not ideology
Ethics and aesthetics seem as distant dreams.

From invisible hand to surplus value
Survival of the fittest to reification
Nothing comes easily, nothing comes free
And ‘everybody is against everybody.’

Peace and non-violence and human values
And such other cherished goals of civilization
Appear as a false promise and a sham
And the future of mankind a hope forlorn.

But again it’s the play of Time-spirit
What it aims at is quite hard to foretell
Still, in spite of its rough exterior
It loves to chase a bit beauty and order.

[Thu-300801]

2006-02-03T19:21:00.000+05:30

Juggernaut

Gandhi was a radical, wrote Jerry Rao
Who moulded conservatism to suit him
Kishen pattanayak died almost unsung
The rebel at heart was most unassuming.

Indu Jain calls for a non-violent army
Neera Chadhoke dreams Civil society
Peoples war-groups are settling for dialogues
World Social Forum is a jamboree now.

Musharaf ditches military solution
The world is one voice against terrorism
Borders are breached by Satellite TV
Oil-pipes and train-lines are knitting the world.

It looks like that portentous End of History
Where the cool law of Mammon reigns supreme
The sun doesn’t set in the on-line exchange
Equity, debt, commodities and what have you.

For de-mat money, the world is its oyster
Silence! M&A talks are in progress
For which democracy is docile courtesan
And all this in the name of liberalism.

So never again say ‘there are alternatives’
Let revolutionaries be pragmatists
Business must flourish in peace and calm
Hail! Economy and technology.

[Sat-021004]

2006-02-03T19:18:00.000+05:30

Doom as boon

From chrysalis on to apotheosis
When toddler dreams are about to take wings
Is heard the calypso of apocalypse
And lucidity is limped by a lisp.

The sight of a spider weaving its web
Or a chameleon changing its colours
Speak us of the mystery of creation
Through a process of steady expansion.

Then the law of the hand-drum operates
Thus begins the era of contraction
And the whole thing recedes progressively
Till it is ingathered in a point.

A cold cathartic cancerous kill-joy
Stealthily takes out the lynchpins of the carts
And then how far can be the disaster
Catastrophe follows as per the script.

The frightening fury of a vast flood
Or the volcanic ruin by an earth-quake
Are mere modalities of destruction
The driving force being the dissolution.

Seeds of detriment broadcast all over
Are waiting for their hour of sprouting
Still another insurgency can strike
The message of the new-age may mushroom.

[Fri-011004]

2006-02-03T19:14:00.000+05:30

Senators

A Star-shaped salver-form fragrant flower
Petals cream with orange corolla tube
Blossoms in the night, falls on the day-break
But blessed to represent Aspiration.

Periwinkle in colours rose or white
Rounded petals, narrow corolla tube
A common flower represents progress,
To say ‘the reason why we are on earth.’

Dense pendulous clusters of fragrant white
Rotate flowers changing through pink to red
With long tubular calyces, creeper
For ‘we can count on you’ Oh! Faithfulness.

A golden-yellow funnel-shaped flower
Is Victory, ‘will triumph over all obstacles’
Marigold, yellow or maroon denotes
Plasticity, ‘ready for the progress.’

Zinnia, double compositae flower
Admiringly represents Endurance
‘Going to the very end of the effort
Without fatigue or relaxing’ that is.

Dahlia, small and large double flowers
Some are obstacles, Pride and Vanity
Others Dignity and Nobility
No pettiness in Aristocracy.

[Fri-011004]

2006-01-24T11:04:00.001+05:30

Watch out!

In the immensity of unity
Replete with sheer impersonality
Or in the experience of nihil
There seems to be a big conspiracy.

For when you are pleased to have him banished
And happily basking in the glory
Of sovereignty and autonomy
The god appears and says, Hi! I love you.

That is rather unbecoming of him
Not to respect somebody’s privacy
But the attempt to challenge the loneness
Becomes a far more serious offence.

Zero versus one versus several
In an amply confusing conundrum
No point in splitting hair or breaking head
The proof of the pudding is in eating.

No theory has the monopoly
Over such arcane facts like god or truth
And so it is wise to be circumspect
Before believing in some rigid frame.

Our love for linear and symmetry
Hates the insurgency that god incites
An anathema for rationalist
God returns at precise frequency.

[Sat-091004]

2006-01-24T11:04:00.000+05:30

Beyond

In this post-metaphysical era
A keen contest is underway between
Genealogy and teleology
Originary, imaginary.

Who would bring us the all important view?
Post-modernism or pataphysics
The quorum of quarks and quantum physics
Or gestalt and phenomenology?

Convolutions of the embodied being
Imposes its compulsions of cruelty
No amount of metaphorical stuff
Can heal and hence, failure of the poetic.

The stakes are quite high perhaps, for quick-sand
Of ambiguities and polyvalence
Are pointers to potency and deep tunes
In contrast to claims of empiricism.

I have a thousand suns sealed within me
Why should then I be dictated by one?
If I am one with the earth and cosmos
How can my body be a barrier?

To look at, why do I need a locus?
Why must my feelings tag as visceral?
One can be a new-fangled post-er boy
Post-poetic, post-philosophical.

[Mon-111004]

2006-01-20T21:10:00.000+05:30

Chemistry

Community and collectivity
A group, a tribe, an army or a phalanx
Ever ready to fight the adversary
But not unknown for the wars fought within.

Lofty pyramids of society
Or intricate organization trees
Are well-oiled systems of fraternity
Deep-rooted discontents notwithstanding.

Democracy and liberalism
Anchored by free-market economy
Have come up as the biggest twin-virtues
No statistics as to the social costs.

Neighbours, colleagues, peer-group and customers
Codes, customs, rituals and tradition
Relationships operate in fixed grooves
Lull outside concealing conflictual flux.

Interpersonal interface travels
In tangential trajectories ever
Bereft of nodus or penetration
And hence the eternal alienation.

Neither religion nor fornication
Nor the arts, culture and congregations
Have succeeded in forging just two hearts
Wanted, a new alchemy of fusion.

[Sun-101004]

2005-12-23T16:32:00.000+05:30

Arcane arcade

In the oceanic vastness of Varuna
Or the infinite expanse of Virata
Is wrought the immense law of the Brhat
It is the quiet reign of Vaishwanara.

The puny intellect of human being
Even if it is stretched to its limits
Barely manages to amass a pittance
Rest he settles for mystery and wonder.

The immensities and complexities
Of the interplay of worlds and realms beyond
Are themes with which mythologies are made
But leave the human mind in enigma.

Dreams and visions and imaginations
Drive us to fathom incommunicable
Clutching on to hope and slender techniques
More often than not, we end up in failure.

Caught up in the existential concourse
Some other concern calls emergency
Once again it is the fire-fighting mode
Always eludes the illimitable.

The subtle, the subliminal and causal
Are beyond the net of our perception
But strive we must to gain access to them
For they belong to us, not mysterious.

[Thu- 300904]

2005-12-23T13:25:00.000+05:30

Wisest man, Worst poet, any takers?

The swadeshi movement was, from a Moderate point of view, a negation of the entire Congress project. As a partisan of the Moderates it gives me great satisfaction that Bengal’s greatest poet, Tagore, got it exactly right and her worst, Aurobindo Ghose, got it perfectly wrong.

Mukul Kesavan The Telegraph Sunday, May 29, 2005

We move on to Aurobindo, who, again, at times propagated ideas uncannily similar to Islam, as in the wish to return to a Golden Age where all was truth and righteousness. Then we come to Vivekananda, to this writer the most ambivalent, and hence most appealing, of the four.

Ramachandra Guha The Telegraph Saturday, April 17, 2004

These are unreasonable remarks from fairly reasonable people. And, similar impressions have gained wide currency over the years through such supposed expert comments. By ticking off the versatile legacy of Sri Aurobindo in just one sentence is certainly cruel to his memory. It appears that he is still standing before the bar of the High Court of History.

Everybody is eminently entitled to her views but what is questionable is the methodology. It has become a fashion, or almost a compulsion of sorts, to mention the name of Sri Aurobindo as an appendage to others. But, why bring in his name at all, if only to show him in bad light?

For the fact is that, the very project of comparision in this manner, is arbitrary. Sri Aurobindo’s work in the political sphere begins when Swami Vivekananda is no longer there. Tagore is almost a spectator in the sidelines and Gandhi is yet to enter into the picture. And again, the tenor of their work, so dissimilar.

Each of the great men like these has contributed to areas of specific significance which come to form our national mosaic. But in manufacturing the synthetic metaphysics of The Life Divine and composing the epic, Savitri, Sri Aurobindo’s genius is unparalleled, not only in India but also in the whole world.

All writers may not be competent to perceive the nuances of poetry or philosophy. But then, they are expected to be honest enough not to beat someone with the wrong stick. It is only rarely that we read any independent assessment of Sri Aurobindo in the media. But his role is indispensable for the national regeneration everyone is hoping for.

2005-12-19T10:42:00.000+05:30

Plurality, Diversity, Multiculturalism is the new Trinity.
Construed almost synonymous with democracy, the idea of plurality and choice is also lapped up by the market economy. The more the merrier, is the new refrain. But what about consensus, synchronicity and solidarity? Are they not equally significant? This war between the modern and the post-modern has forced upon us lopsided priorities and warped perspectives. The fact that the divergent concepts must be applied in their respective locus is easily forgotten, and the contra attempted to corner browny points.
Conversely, none would like to trade patriotism or nationalism for plurality. They are sacrosanct down to the level of winning a Cricket match or some Beauty contest. Then what about creating such a consensus on a particular knowledge system or a philosophy? Can’t it be attempted in an informed environment by employing dispassionate discourse? Or, at least, is it not worth striving for?
Fears are certainly there. For when simple stipulations like electoral reforms elude us ever, to tinker with societal norms is fraught with far greater hurdles. Nevertheless, a conflated manifesto for the human race as a whole, addressing its existential concerns should be a plausible pursuit. Just like, Einstein’s objection to uncertainty, God doesn’t play dice.

2005-12-19T09:21:00.000+05:30

The ideal of human unity must base on the idea of culture and not simply commerce

Another year is drawing to a close and what we observe in what can be called the national discourse is sheer ennui. There are many voices, old and new, and proliferating, no doubt, but everybody is speaking in quite expected and predictable lines. The Hindutva and cultural nationalism orchestra is not as enthusiastic as earlier nor the Swadeshi caravan. The secularism debate is groping in the dark and seems to have lost its way in the myriad bylanes of myth and culture.

All polemics concerning haves and have-nots, North and South, State and individual, human rights and technology issues appear to perish under the Juggernaut of Globalisation. Perorations by cheerleaders of both sides abound but bereft of any new insight. Continental commercial conglomerates are being tom-tommed as the panacea for the future. Everything is being weighed in terms of trade or tourist-traffic.

But that is not the model of a greater World Union what Sri Aurobindo and other great thinkers dreamt of. The ideal of human unity must base itself on the idea of culture and not simply commerce. Books like Savitri and The Life Divine can very well form the basis of an enduring inter-cultural dialogue. The evolution-intelligent design dichotomy and racial unrests from Paris to Australia, are perhaps the pointers of such a hunger.

Sri Aurobindo holds a unique position among the modern day thinkers of the world. He has lived through the tradition of the east as well as the west for quite a long time and has not only delved deep into the soul of both the cultures, but also written about them extensively in English with a universal sweep. The futuristic vision that has come out of his forty years’ spiritual retreat needs to be kneaded into all our socio-economic endeavours.

At a time when all our heroes and idols are gradually fading into oblivion, Sri Aurobindo must be invited to occupy the dominant consciousness of the nation. The poet-philosopher must be allowed to teach us so as to exorcise our ephemeral notions about national regeneration and Global citizenship. The contemporary confusion concerning the search for the wisest man ends here.

2005-12-11T10:24:00.000+05:30

Black and white

Is it not futile to find the square root of a sonnet?
Or to break a lyre to understand its liltings?
A vortex is not reducible to particles of water
A cloud knows not where it moves, how fast and why.

The whole is always more than the mere sum of its members
A hologram hoodwinks with dimensional shifts
The politician hides behind the cover of his image
If you have a hammer, then everything looks like a nail.

Asses, May God bless them, would rather have straw than gold
In arts as in religion, the best direction is backwards
Brands, a fascist state where we all salute the Logo
All that glitters is not gold, nor are diamond for ever.

Those who can, do, those who can’t, teach, alas!
Those who know, live, those who don’t, write about it
Think like a man of action, act like a man of thought
For, vision is the art of seeing things invisible.

Take out the H, and still a bit remains of habit
Life itself is a four-letter word, with if at its core
A nude turns vulgar, if appears to be conscious of it
Personal greed triggers an invisible hand of common good

An expert is one who knows more and more about less and less
We want more and more of less, is the motto of Downshifting
A dog biting a man is no news, but man biting a dog is
All light of the world is hidden behind the black letters of books.

[Fri-280901]

The other worlds

2005-12-05T05:42:00.000+05:30

Sri Aurobindo passed away 55 years back, on December 5, 1950. He is perceived as a great soul but his writings have yet to earn the reception they deserve. The vast body of his work and the difficult diction he employs, may be the reason to deter the common reader; but even the scholar is not enamoured enough of them. The most plausible factor that seems to be responsible is Sri Aurobindo’s insistence on spirituality while discussing secular themes such as politics, poetry, the arts, or education.

The convenient demarcation between secular and the sacred suits the academic approach. But for Sri Aurobindo this is a faulty notion because the causal aspect is eclipsed. The linkage between the two is less of the manner of an umbilical chord and more in the nature of interpenetrating imbrications. If our sensory and scientific construct of the world fails to accommodate such a picture, it must be understood as a lack.

Astronomy as an ancient passion has helped us to know about the outer universe. Astrology, too, by talking of stars and planets attunes us to their subtle influences. The different abodes of gods as described by various mythologies, also, permit us certain familiarity of the other worlds. But we rarely take their effect on our lives any seriously. And the task of Sri Aurobindo is to hammer the modern mind so as to rid it from secular superstitions.

The inner and the other worlds are a consistent theme in his poem, Savitri. Composed through the years from Quantum mechanics to nuclear holocaust, this modern epic puts a stamp of authority on the unseen fecund worlds and their inhabitants who are inextricably linked to our motions and emotions. To recognize this reality seriously, is what Savitri demands from its readers.

The different parts of our being and consciousness, as delineated by Sri Aurobindo in his Integral Yoga system, are nothing but the other worlds. We can well imagine our plights as puppets when disparate worlds are very much in the play to pull the strings. Somewhat similar to the insight offered by Baudrillard that it is the object which uses and employs us and not the other way round that we ordinarily perceive. But then, how do we benefit by this concept in our practical life?

That there runs a perpetual consonance between the seen and the unseen, might seem, at times, hard to digest, but a poetic impression can be allowed to swim aloft. The process should further deepen in the realm of creative imagination leading to a faint intellectual recognition. Since the notion runs counter to our egoistic autonomy, it is bound to take a long time to percolate down to the distant and defiant impulses. And regular recitation of Savitri helps here; its mantric effect casting its reach down to our body cells.

2005-11-22T03:38:00.000+05:30

Love and Knowledge

If you are such pure of heart and candid
To speak out the murky secret of your birth
Then be sure you are the son of a wise
And who can refuse your candidature.

So goes the parable when the sage of yore
Put his stamp of authority on a low-brow
Upturned a whole lot of norms and conventions
And heralded out-of-the-box truth perceptions.

Who the whore, who father and who’s progeny
Why the stigma, what enigma of love and sin?
The tussle of gene and gender astirs reason
And should learning be for a select only?

The wise anchored and vindicated uncensured
Even after his fall albeit pleasurable
And she has the birthright to rent her womb
Without any trace of shame to serve whoever

Teacher and disciple and master and maid
The wise and the whore and an unwed mother
Wives and families and the bliss of ignorance
Untruths, deceptions and mask of morality.

All are in ferment in this small episode
What to pardon and who to blame is not easy
From music to massage it has many masks
To hive off the safe-ways, must we legalize?

The son when grows up might follow his father
His hallowed education would goad him ever
Notwithstanding his occasional failings
Knowledge is a whip, good for all seasons.

[Sat-170704]

2005-11-22T03:27:00.000+05:30

Awareness

At the end of umpteen performances
Once you realize one fine morning
That it is not an end in itself
And the real key is disinterestedness
You are born anew.

Thousand masks you have worn
Tossing a new demeanour every evening
Dishing out fresh imitations
But today is different and difficult
You must act yourself.

In the Sublime lies the real pretension
And true superiority in pure equality
Art is for ascension, an effort
You go through a thorough fitness regimen
That you can run naked.

Amidst crudities aplenty
And everyone angling for assortments
You can go on sampling endlessly
Trying to con the connoisseur in you
But one day one must wake to the call beyond.

There are no options in effect
Awareness signals the right track
One devours just by dispassionate observation
They also serve who simply wait and watch
There is but one way to stay.

[Sat-100704]

Either or

2005-11-01T01:39:00.000+05:30

The value of land is settled in the mind
Valaya shirts can cost 1500 to 15000
Share prices are a function of sentiments
What if the tribals live on mango kernels?

Paracetamol is new wine for Dispirin
History has two suitors, red and saffron
Barkha vs. burqa, war to publi-size
What’s wrong with tarot or parrots?

Race is biological caste cultural
Law overrides the people’s mandate
Satyagraha damned by the court supreme
What’s the objection against NDA inn?

School is seen as a form of prison
Democracy itself an irrational notion
Positivism no more a prized possession
What is madness, genius or a disease?

Starvation deaths despite of Amartya
Pimping is fair in public interest
People out to see a St. Marx’s order
What is our icon: Ambani or Dr Kurien?

What is politics if not populism
How to reconcile reforms with swadeshi
And teach patriotism to the fringe populace
Dilemma is as old as the Mahabharata.

[Fri-070901]

Nomad

2005-11-01T01:29:00.000+05:30

That’s quite unsettling, especially
In these days of political accuracy
If somebody says something against
The supposed gender equality.

Although in the path of spirituality
Lauded are the traits feminine
But in the world of our own
Of weakness they are the sign.

Male is male, female female
The twain can never resemble
No wonder as symbols of morality
One is obligation and the other aspiration.

The female is earth-bound the male can fly
His trait is to migrate explore and go away
She is more acquisitive he distributive
Man is a nomad women a different breed.

From a room of one’s own to the second sex
There have been attempts to see with kindred eyes
And to compare and contrast only leading to
Varying degrees of exaggeration and over-emphasis.

But why juxtapose the opposites
And compare the chalk with cheese
Besides the biological dissimilarities
They are poles apart as social beings.

[Thu-060901]

Diffidence

2005-11-01T01:25:00.000+05:30

For a horse of a race marathon
To pretend to tend a kitchen garden
And feign running by jogging at a spot
It’s all a nice hide and seek game.

To run with the hare and hunt with the wolf
It’s rough and tough to live so dangerously
Yet to stay put is but the Hobson’s choice
For to know how to wait is a heroic trait.

While on the brass-tacks, at times it’s hard to take
That when all seems to be lost that all is saved
But what is this hue and cry, after all
If winter comes, can spring be far behind?

Platitudes galore, irritating and hard-nosed
It’s a dog-eat-dog world, un-humane
And the apparition of the future growing
Larger everyday and ever intimidating.

Of good and bad or art and beauty
Tomes abound by a plethora of authors
Then why is it that Truth Good and Beauty
Stay as distant as ever, the more we aspire.

Log on to love then rather than to logic
That is the cue since time immemorial
Give must not spur any give and take
The time-worn words are the life-giving props.

[Thu-160801]

Monad

2005-11-01T00:38:00.000+05:30

I am one with all others, though
And a mere ripple in the cosmic ocean
I am the one and only, the unique
All else is alien, none resembles me.

My thoughts and habits and temperament
Impulses emotions passion or action
Are peculiar to me and bear my stamp
None can betray them nor can I share.

My history and my destiny
Traverse a unique track
How many hurdles or how many ladders
The quota is uniquely mine.

The ideas and ideals of some other
Are absolutely specific to him or her
Howsoever I persevere to imitate
It would be surely a futile affair.

I can only tread my way, at my pace
And follow my bliss, as they say
Opportunities golden and visions sublime
Of what use they, if are not mine?

The private space of my consciousness
Must relish its own narcissism
And seek freedom and fulfillment
So as to say I am that I am.

[ Sat-110801]

Leadership

2005-10-25T06:07:00.000+05:30

Spies are eyes across the wall
Climb up a hill to a broader horizon
If only outlook mates with insight
Can a commander a leader become.

He and her men within the organic whole
Are a matrix and how does it perform
Is a question linked to its raison de etre
And hence handling people is so crucial.

Not to manipulate as if a mechanical being
But to see his intrinsic worth
Each person, a bundle of difficulty
Heralding the hope of what she can become.

Hurdles come and are meant to be overcome
In order to earn a sense of triumph
An innate urge of self-exceeding
Is the secret of success alone

Harmonizing the contraries is the key
And to unshackle resistance to change
To stoop to conquer by being a servant
And capable to pardon if to punish.

Games of adult or parent and child
By recognizing the other as nothing but you
To be a master of oneself, Swarat
In order to lord over the world, Samrat.

[Mon- 100901]

2005-10-07T01:59:00.000+05:30

THE THINKER

Man is the measure of all things
I think, therefore I am
The real is rational, the rational real
Man is something that is to be surpassed

To be is to be perceived
Existence precedes essence
The mind of a child is ‘tabula rasa’
The phenomenon manifests the essence

Know thyself, and you’ll know the universe
Flight of the alone to the alone
The incognito of the eternal
God is dead.

War is the father of all and king of all
The child is the father of the man
Man is born free, but he is in chains
Workers of the world unite!

Pleasure of the text, death of the author
Signifier precedes and determines the signified
Love is giving what one does not have
To somebody who doesn’t want it.

Conquer yourself rather than the world
Your action is limited, obviously, by your death
Man is free, but he is not master in his own house
There is no thought which embraces all our thoughts.

[Wed-050901]

2005-10-07T01:53:00.000+05:30

POSSIBILITY

Myths and legends, fables and lullabies
Fodder for gossip, food for thought
Lilies and birds, wolves and lambs
Birds and bees, bulls and bears.

Fairies and angels, cabbages and kings
Batman Spiderman, birds of same feather
Whales and seagulls, cock and the crow
Mountain and squirrel, dog in the manger.

Tarzan and Phantom and the Trojan horse
Godzilla, Dinausers and Jurassic Park
Hound of heaven, tiger burning bright
A spider saves, another seduces a fly.

Sphinx and dragon, unicorn, centaur
Goat meets rat, fickle Mickey-mouse
God’s eye view, pre-thought life-world
While one bird eats, the Other looks on.

Jackal and black-cat, camel and lion
Two goats on a bridge for right of way
To bathe like a crow and contemplate crane-like
Vehicles, Avatars, Gurus and zodiacs.

The bat is a mammal, dolphin humanly
The parrot speaks, postal-pigeon, police-dogs
If a squirrel comes to collaborate with God
Why can’t man forget his animal past?

[Sun-050801]

2005-10-07T01:44:00.000+05:30

ARCHETYPE

There are worlds after worlds, they say
Whether flying or perched it matters not
Imagination is an endless game
And so is creation as its outcome.

The magic-lights of the rain-soaked town
The lilting music from a broken pot
Are real, there in the worlds beyond
Like Rimina tip-toeing behind the mirror.

Colours splashed on a large canvas
May appear as cowherds or circus-tents
Or human forms quite weird and strange
But they exist by their own right.

Each tune is a town, each song a world
Each Raga a whole universe, delightful
Music beckons to wander in the wonder worlds
One sings and strays into worlds apart.

Truth and beauty and good and justice
Must be having their own home somewhere
So also pity and love and brotherhood
Radiating their virtues upon us.

Trees and flowers the sky and the moon
Should not bind us, we must see beyond
Fermions Bosons and the receding galaxies
Need not blind us, we should invade the unknown.

[Sun-251294]

2005-10-07T01:37:00.000+05:30

LIFE, A PRETEXT

The countless words that the cosmos hears
Everyday and the numerous rehearsals
Are a text of proportions, mind-boggling
Reality is just another TV-channel.

Call it meaning or theory or truth
It’s all merely some interpretation
Oscillating between history and culture
And stirring conflicts and suspicion.

The dynamics of reciprocal reference
Is an elegant structural scheme
It is an arena of free-for-all
Bake your own text according to your sweet will.

Whatever is said or what remains unsaid
What is feigned, concocted or concealed
Are grist to the mill of games people play
Loose talk needed for inauthentic life.

And that is praxis and the lived-world
The word spoken walks in regal status
Whatever is scripted gets a bad name
Thus we return to the life of the nomads.

Granted that discourse is always uncertain
And communication tends to be tentative
Our existence is a construct of language
And life, a pretext to unravel a text.

[Thu-030403]

2005-10-04T03:31:00.000+05:30

GLASS, HALF-FILLED

When you throw tantrums
And I take umbrage
We forget it’s churlish
To crib and quibble about.

A tangled skein of lies
Or a slew of new demands
Is enough to bomb a day
The crater to fill takes long.

To punch your careful rationale
Just to break the humdrum
Is not taken kindly
The poor humbug wails.

A silly little thing
Is not worth ruing about
Why to fret and fume
It’s infinitely better to forget.

Meeting in the half-way house
Beneath the half-moon at midnight
Why ask for the plenary sun
Life’s always a half-cooked meal.

So let’s stop worrying and start living
Make friends and influence people
For if I’m OK, you’re OK
And shore up our EQ by positive thinking.

[Thu-270901]

NOT A DROP TO DRINK

When you know that there are, to be sure
A hundred ways to look at a thing
Then you know that you do not know
And how difficult it is to take a stand.

It is surely impossible to know for certain
Just about anything or any petty affair
The truth is always at a discount
Invaded by falsehood and exaggeration.

How easy it looks to sail in a small boat
Well insured in its cozy comforts
But come the waves from a large vessel
You tend to panic and tumble and fall.

Little learning is a dangerous thing
That blinds and binds with rigidities
It’s knowledge and ideas that set you free
And leave you at the shore high and dry.

Whence you are unsure which way to go
Whether to say yes or no at any point
The thin demarcation between good and bad
Or true or false is obliterated.

When one thus enters a blind alley
And is driven to the wall of doubt
Then only it often dawns upon him
That only Grace can come to the rescue.

[Sat-220901]

A DROP OF INK

It’s a different game altogether
For the words-industry to prosper
Silence and solitude help
Huge output for the pen-pushers.

Armed with a calm without
And a tormented heart within
They write as if with their blood
Turned blue with anguish and disquiet.

Self-love turning a love for man
Suffused with utopian aspirations
Even when everything seems to be lost
They see light at the end of the tunnel.

A quiet resolve and certitude
To find a way amidst the darkness
With enough sagacity and fortitude
They essay on to write the right.

To write is again to fight
Against a host of hostile values
Tyranny of the contemporariety
Hedonism and the herd-mentality.

By cultivating the nation’s mind-space
They strive to make it more fertile
Be it commerce, economy or politics
All follow their edicts and their will.

[Sat-220901]

VERSATILITY

2005-09-26T00:06:00.000+05:30

I have the right to write
Good bad or worse
Poetry is foreign to me
I vote for the verse.

I am hardly bothered
Whether it makes sense or not
My task is fulfilled
If it subverts.

Vanity and righteousness
And all such idiot views
By shooting a couplet or two
If I enact a coup.

Words go abegging
For meaning and sense
If I sit them for a drink
Then three cheers for my verse.

Diverse forms of expression
Whatever is left to write
Many may come and many may go
But verse will go on forever.

For when I am alone
And I converse
With who else than myself
It’s but through verse.

[Mon-200801]

TURBIDITY

2005-09-25T03:25:00.000+05:30

It used to trouble me that why can’t they
Say it, the essential, in a direct way
Why can’t we read and listen in clear terms
And learn of the things quite plain and simple?

If one employs an economy of words
And harnesses them in a logical order
To express what is barely necessary
Why shouldn’t a fine piece of writing come up?

But then I discovered the blemish myself
By tumbling upon the slippery synonyms
Which allure and entice to seduce us astray
Whenever you embark upon a straightforward journey.

Adjectival adornments athwart all the while
Idioms and phrases and proverbs lurk around
Clichés and catchwords and jargons galore
And you’re an Alice in the wonderland of words.

The work of thought too no play of innocence
It beckons and plays a thorough hide and seek
It exchanges words in the manner of coins
And is always unsure of what would come through.

The last nail is that what we call communication
Is impossible; there is only interpretation
The medium is the message, the reader is king
The icebergs of sub-texts offer no firm ground.

[Thu-120902]

RECTITUDE

2005-09-24T23:48:00.000+05:30

Pursuing incessantly the cause radical
Offering realism a critical stance
Hoping to transcend the dialectic triad
Reason was the helper, reason is the bar.

Appearance and Reality, Truth and Method
Process and Reality, Time and Eternity
Being and Nothingness, Being and Time
Visible and Invisible, Time and Narrative.

Experience and Judgement, Sense and Non-sense
Conjectures and Refutations, Freedom and Limit
Difference and Repetition, Critique and Clinic
Humanism and Terror, Discipline and Punish.

Identity and Difference, Ethics and Infinity
Matter and Memory, Totality and Infinity
Eros and Civilization, Ideology and Utopia
Reason and Revolution, Totem and Taboo.

Blindness and Insight, Criticism and Crisis
The Raw and the Cooked, Theory and Praxis
Speech and Phenomena, Models and Metaphors
Holism and Evolution, Toys and Reasons.

Violence and the Sacred, Myth and Terror
Madness and Civilization, Art and Illusion
Motivation and Personality, Love and Will
Realism and Reason, Surrender and Catch.

[Wed-XX01]

GRATITUDE

2005-09-23T04:26:00.000+05:30

When Whitehead tells that the whole of philosophy
Is but a footnote to Plato, it's a great tribute
Nietzsche likewise says that it’s Dostoevsky
From whom he really learnt some psychology.

Aristotle is The Philosopher for Dante
Merleau-Ponty has been pedestalled by Blanchot
Bakhtin too is beholden to Dostoevsky
And Heidegger to Holderlin’s poetry.

Kierkegaard adorns a special place for Lukacs
Just as Leibniz enchanted Bertrand Russell
And Spinoza was the noblest of them all
Merleau-Ponty, a true disciple of Husserl.

Virginia Woolf spoke so highly of Proust
All his life Lacan unfolded Freud’s dream
From Althusser to Habermas, Marxists galore
Marx himself was a known Hegelian juggler.

Saussure was inspiration to Levi-Strauss
Nietzsche was a Schopenhauer admirer
Derrida is a sly pursuer of Heidegger
Ricoeur pushes on the project of Gadamer.

Bergson redefined Darwinian evolution
Lukacs reiterated Marx’s reification
Kojeve’s lectures on Hegel inspired many
And the Kantian Critiques have never ceased reigning.

[Sat-131001]

LATITUDE

2005-09-22T00:04:00.000+05:30

Once upon a time to write was being exact
But since then much water has flown down the Rhine
To write at present is to be re-written
And seeing the world as ever transfiguring.

The framework of grammar and semantic system
What with dictionaries and poetry and fiction
The fortress of language seemed invincible
But meaning turned out to be the horse Trojan.

A word is a sign and a symbol and still more
A text has its sub-texts located in context
The artist and the work and Art are a circle
Borders of visible and the invisible.

Order and symmetry are a slippery track
Rhythm and rhyming are a feigning drapery
To unveil the fake and to walk straight to the truth
Is to unravel the meaning of the meaning.

The emotions may be same for the human race
But myriad are the languages to express
In addition the spice of interpretation
It is a tower of Babel, of confusion.

Where is the sound of the Word originary
Where to discover that state of pure absence
What is the clue to disinterested pleasure
And the way to unconcealment and disclosure.

[Mon-171001]

2005-07-03T02:32:00.000+05:30

FORTITUDE

Desert spaces and the dull common days
Play hide and seek with our inspirations
Waiting patiently with the rod and line
For a big catch falling for red-herring.

Like sailing for months to see an island
Or combing the forest to spot a deer
Rummage around in the attic for toy
How the joy borders upon luck and chance.

Carrot and stick and chaos and fractals
Random lots and Fibonacci numbers
Lollipops and lullabies on the sly
Might lead to snowball a butterfly effect.

A thousand oysters wasted for a pearl
Once in a blue-moon comes the Midas touch
The old man and the sea is an old tale
Keep on tilling the field crave not for crop.

Oasis or rainbow is will-o-the –wisp
Kaleidoscope of false leads beckon
But the beacon of hope amidst the gloom
Is one’s intensity of emotion.

In emptiness of a jug has its use
So also the barrenness of a vale
Bartlebooth’s voyages are just not in vain
Recall Captain Ahab’s chase of the whale.

[Fri- 011004]

FINITUDE

For want of a word in speech you stammer
And stumble while walking, without reason
When sailing smoothly pops up some hurdle
So goes the mystery of improbable.

Whether it is a play of hide and seek
Or just playing pranks upon the hapless
The stray events emerge from some secret
To teach a thing or two to unmindfuls.

For an unseen force calls the shots
But we are caught up in a transition
To a state of things devoid of discords
And therefore rise all these teething troubles.

Prick of imperfection is a lesson
To be aware that we are lacking in
Gripped by a sense of insecurity
We are forced to aspire incessantly.

Like a bottled up djinn, in other words
Restive to be uncorked and gain freedom
We too, wary of our mean finitude
Long liberty and lost autonomy.

An old story it is told recurrently
And yet the message is rarely brought home
The prophet proposes, alas! the death disposes
Perhaps the new dawn is still a long way.

[Mon-111004]

2005-07-01T17:56:00.000+05:30

Where’s the party?
The Congress is in power. But it shows no signs of life
Click here to read the article

Wanted, Overhaul

This shallow comment is quite unusual of Shri Mehta, whose insightful coloumns and reviewsare always intllectual treats. At a time when the Advani virus is likely to affect all political discourse and cause metamorphosis of all political parties, it is not fair to blame the Congress alone. Shri Mehta, in an earlier coloumn, has already pointed out that none of our parties are democratic in character. And strangely, there is no effort to plug this systemic lacuna. We are adoring a democracy in our country which is embedded in hypocrisy. A thorough reworking of our constitutional systems is the need of the hour. Let people like Shri Mehta take the lead in the matter.

Posted by: Tusar N. Mohapatra, India, 30-06-2005 at 1953 hours IST
http://www.indianexpress.com/archive_frame.php

2005-06-30T11:12:00.000+05:30

Introspectrum

I have come full circle
And I don’t see colour now
I look out through the window
It is a colourless world.

Cars pass by, labourers work
Sarees or shirts, either check or plain
Bricks or cement or iron rods
All there, but there is no colour.

The same bricks or the same shirts
When come in a picture or a painting
Acquire tantalizing hues
Stirring feelings sensational.

The tyranny of TVisuals
The chicanery of Sunday mags
The depravity of fashion scene
We are all colour-victims.

[081198]

Mutation

I was so fond of sweets
And now it’s the opposite
Why does the taste change
And how does it happen?

If taste-buds are the same
And dishes the same old
So, what was favourite
Why fails to appetise?

What we hear see or smell
Or touch does not change
Over a period of time
Why the taste keeps varying?

In view of its value
For upkeep of the body
Perhaps the food affair
Is little complicated.

The mind must foreplay
The eyes must agree
And the mouth consent
For full enjoyment.

Or taste remains the same
And we as persons change
Our likings and leanings
Get distilled with age?

[Sat-080901]

Taxonomy

2005-06-30T01:53:00.000+05:30

The diversity observed in the human nature has always intrigued the thinkers. Writers of fictions and playwrights owe their popularity to this variety of human characters. Psychologists, from time to time, have attempted to categorise the human beings in a few manageable slots. These have certain veracity as well as utility, but their universal applicability becomes suspect.

In a realm as complex as the human psyche, any speculation is fraught with serious hazards. Nevertheless, prototypes, as foreseen in various mythologies, have been accepted as authoritative. In fact, nobody can quarrel with the creative imaginations of the mythologies, as they stand; especially, in an age when hermeneutics has acquired so much of respectability. But any absolutist or foundationalist posture may always be questioned.

So, allowing such contentious questions to simmer awhile, it would be advantageous to probe the issue of human types on the basis of current data coterminous with ancient cues. While the apparent divisions of humanity on racial, linguistic, nationalistic or such other yardsticks have to be borne in mind, on the one hand; the ultimate unity and universality of the humanity needs to be explained, on the other.

And this poses a formidable challenge. Genetic variations notwithstanding, equality has persisted to be a fascinating ideal from times immemorial. Besides, equality has been assumed as an underlying fact in consonance with the idea of common origin and common destiny of the human beings. However, it is worth the while to surmount the impasse obtained through such a scenario.

A look at the present day vocations might be of help. The modern urban society tempered by technology has thrown open complex and highly specialised professions the needs and nuances of which are widely dissimilar. Although, there is no reason to believe that people get to work in accordance with their aptitude, it is commonly observed that they develop a certain degree of competence as well as expertise in their respective professions. Because of the fact that their personal prestige and contentment also gets linked to their work, over a period of time; it is not unoften that a synchronicity of the behavioural with the professional is easily assumed.

Right man at the right place; being the most riddle-some affair for the management person, it is not surprising why he relies, more and more, upon ethnography and psychology. That each person is unique and his potentialities are different from others, is taken, almost, as an indisputable fact. In addition, the equations of age, gender, subaltern etc. remain perpetually tilted.

Coming down to a very practical level, the dilemma of a school-goer can be considered as to how he makes up his mind, much in advance, to join one of the three – Science, Arts and Commerce – streams. For, from there, in effect, starts a broad opting for a particular class of professions.

The rest is a sordid story of Herculean struggle for survival, hard-nosed bargaining and chicanery. What all that leads to and where it takes the individual, is a veritable snakes-and-ladders game of fate and free-will.Be that as it may, it hardly helps to be fatalistic. From actors to astronauts, the human situation is an elegant mosaic of multitudinous marbles. The kaleidoscopic symmetry is no less illusory than the chaotic complexities. Whether one, merely, mirrors the other or complements him is a conundrum. But the taxing task of ferreting out a reliable taxonomy remains ever necessary.

The overt and covert personality traits imbricated by practical compulsions to take recourse to hypocrisy, diplomacy and deception further complicate the scenario. Besides, humour, honour and image in consonance with the need for self-protection and positioning litter the landscape with more riddles. Age, education and emotions, too, take their toll as time passes by, thus obliterating historical stereotypes.

In the face of such drastic diversity, it is difficult to accept the Vedic notion of a universal aspiration encompassing the whole of humanity. That Light and Force, Delight and Harmony are the ultimate ideals for each human being and it is quite possible to attain them during the span of a lifetime, is something which is not easily accessible, intellectually.

Physiological, biological and psycho-somatic grip over human conduct results in a mechanicity in contrast to the freedom of intellectual flights. Differential powers of perception and convoluted tiers of cognition engender enough individual differences. Power structures obtaining in the society contribute to further fragmentation and alienation among persons. And the quest continues.......

Plenitude

2005-06-29T01:19:00.000+05:30

Abundance knows no order or symmetry
A précis or a summary is out of place
The summit is the only destination
Every thing spills over in all directions.

It won’t brook minimal miserliness
And betrays no semblance of being tidy
Caskets are busy running helter-skelter
Lavish prosperity is having a field day.

All symbols, icons and simulacra
Are run over by the juggernaut of plenty
All restraints whatever is thrown to the winds
But no chaos is it, simply anarchy.

Anomie or Onam, the carnival is on
El Nino brings the news of the El Dorado
Idioms of the past, get ready for Nano
Dance when it pours, in joyful abandonment.

All ugly and hideous now pass for art
Objects are multiplying, signs in short supply
Texts in demat, soon to claim the three worlds
Apologists of economy, Unclasp!

Once one qualifies for the oceanic vast
Worlds of plenitude swim in in plenty
Revel in the joy of beauty and beatitude
Why settle for the tiny, mean and puny.

[Sat-280804-Onam]

2005-06-28T18:27:00.000+05:30

PRE-VISION

Many a time I come across newspaper headlines which prove to be prophetic subsequently. I may recount a few of them. Hrithik Roshan should not be front page news, wrote Wilson John in The Pioneer edit page just to make the point that the terrorist killings in Kashmir deserve more attention of our mainstream newspapers than films or fashion. But to my surprise, anti-India riots broke out in Nepal over a reported repartee of Hrithik Roshan and he was adorning the front page for almost a week, just two or three months later.Similarly, Bhasker Ghosh wrote a feel-good piece on his visit to Kathmandu in The Hindustan Times edit page. And within a day or two the Royal carnage took place exerting a spine-chilling effect the world over.More recently, just two days before the attack on the Twin Towers on 9/11, Dr G.S. Rajhans was dwelling upon the need to clip the wings of Taliban and its terrorist outfits, in Hindustan.Chandan Mitra recounted the shenanigans of Report Murdroch in destabilizing the media scene in UK in The Sunday Pioneer and in a matter of a few days the Tahelka pandemonium broke out.Yogendra Yadav wrote a stern piece on the food shortage and famine-like situation in many parts of the country in the edit page of Hindustan and laced it with a ‘Vikram Vetal’ quiz. And lo, when I open the Delhi Times, an ad splashes a picture of ‘Vetal’ escorting the king ‘Vikram’ to a Delhi restaurant.The same ad featured ‘Ravana’, the next day, his ten heads adorning the single neck. I was reminded of a letter to the editor of The Statesman complaining a few days earlier that the Ramayana depicts him as ‘Dasagriva’ as well, that is, as possessing ten necks and how it is difficult to imagine their position atop a set of twin shoulders.

TUSAR N MOHAPATRA
[2002]

2005-06-28T15:12:00.000+05:30

Sri Aurobindo's extensive mapping of consciousness and his life-long endeavour to fathom the overhead regions through poetry and yoga are seminal contributions. His emphasis on attainability of highest possible perfection through sheer human efforts and by mere aspiration is a great message of hope.Further, the adventure of consciousness is not aimed at isolated spiritual salvation. Rather, a harmonious collective living is the ultimate destination. By translating this ideal to practical terms, Sri Aurobindo draws an elaborate blueprint concerning the ideal of human unity leading to the establishment of a World-Union.

Sri Aurobindo comes at a very crucial moment in the history of thought when Marxist materialism, Nietzschean nihilism and Freudian vitalism were popular and fashionable. Besides, phenomenology and existentialism had their run along-side him. On the whole, alongwith the new-fangled science and Theosophy,these new philosophical formulations fermented enough confusion among the elite.In a way, the disparate positions arrived at in western thought find their synthesis in Sri Aurobindo's philosophy. By aligning them with the ancient Indian wisdom, he comes up with an integral vision that breathes universality as well as contemporarity.

Thus, Kant's sublime, Hegel's absolute, Schopenhauer's will, Kierkegaard's passion, Marx's matter, Darwin's evolution, Nietzsche's overman, Bergson's elan vital, all find their due representation in Sri Aurobindo's grand exposition. His thought successfully overarchs cultural as well as religious chasms. S.K.Maitra and Haridas Choudhuri are first among the academicians to discern the import of Sri Aurobindo's integral philosophy. D.P.Chattopadhyay wrote a seminal treatise juxtaposing Sri Aurobindo and Marx to examine their utopian prophecies.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sri_Aurobindo#Aurobindo.27s_

2005-06-28T14:51:00.000+05:30

Monday, June 27, 2005

Comment on this article
In praise of Thomas Macaulay
Indian Express
http://www.indianexpress.com/messages.php?content_id=71045#69893

Sri Aurobindo

The fact that you have mentioned the epoch-making work of Sri Aurobindo on Vedic mysticism is of immense import, while debates on Macaulay or Jinnah are simply time-pass. It is the most original contribution of Sri Aurobindo to the modern knowledge systems and hence the primacy of Vedic discourse should incur our curiosity.

Posted by: Tusar N. Mohapatra, India, 12-06-2005 at 1733 hours IST

2005-06-28T14:07:00.000+05:30

TOMORROW

He will come tomorrow, the Alien
Who has the key to all our ills, the clue
To all our jigsaw puzzles and problems
In one stroke he will solve all our mysteries.

Why are we born in different skins
Why do we speak in different tongues
Why we sing and dance in divergent ways
Or what makes us write in many fashions.

He has the formula for words and things
He has the link for art and aesthesis
He will tell us the master-recipe
And bring with him the sure remedy.

Why do we worship disparate icons
Why do we believe in philosophies
What makes us fall for rival theories
Or why do we love to kill each other.

All computing are on his finger-tips
All the worlds show up upon his thumb-nails
No gadgets he needs for tele-talking
His palm is the archive for all texts.

Pathetic calculations of our maths
Thanks to him will be laid to rest for good
The tortuous aparatus of labs
Will mercifully be things of the past.