Yer ur busted.

“Wow, Auntie Sammy has outdone herself” … the lilting voiced Leela seemed to say.

Well, what now?

“Andy she has written for Nostalgia”

“So what I have written for the magazine Back To The Future

“You idiot, she has written about the adventure she and your mom had, they tried to bake a cake.”

“So what lot of people do?”

“Well they did it illegally”

“what do you mean” Andy had visions of his mom and aunt breaking into the neighbourhood grocery store to steal the ingredients.

“Grandma had not given them permission.. You Savvy?”

“so”

“the prognosis was they could not sit for the next week.”

“OOH! We learn from history, I bet we can bake a cake and auntie would be clueless.”

Andy was sceptic but he did not want to pass up a chance to impress the lilting voiced Leela, out came the laptop, the template for baking a cake. After a lengthy debate, and quick look at the ingredients available the kids settled for eggless, vanilla cake.

“You need Maida, Lee and not roti-wallah flour”

“You mean they are different, ”

“of course, “Andy could see the appreciation in Lee’s eyes,  with his superior knowledge being recognized they zipped through the cake baking quite quickly.

Sifting the flour with baking powder, adding in the butter and sugar.

Three drops of vanilla.

Milk and vinegar and they prestige hand mixer helped to bring it to a smooth paste.

The idli tray was greased and the batter poured in, and mixture was baked at 175degrees for half an hour, while cake baked, the other kids got chips, and coke and the impromptu party took place. Andy never felt more thrilled.

You know those days when you have had unexpected joys bestowed on you like an cool party at home, and the Lilting voice Lee batting her eye at you, one does feel blessed and one can also anticipate the dull ache on the Butt from distant memories, without wanting to trigger a what with the handbag from mom, Andy started the cleaning procedure,

he brought in extra flour to replace the used flour, vanilla essence didn’t matter, baking powder mom would not notice, sugar replenished from the main stock, butter again mom would not notice as she does not eat butter, vinegar went right back to its place. Hand mixer washed and its slot on the wall.

Plates washed and returned to its places, the chips packets and cola cans right into the trash…Andy congratulated  himself on his foresight for he actually took the dry trash to the main bin so awkward questions would not be asked.

Vacuuming the living rooms and tidying the books, after all a gang of half a dozen of teenagers does get rowdy.

Done and dusted,

With a besotted smile Andy snuggled into his bed, he knew that Lee was sufficiently impressed, in his dream  she had decided to go out with him, “Not because you bake like a dream, but you were ingenious enough to fool your mom.”

Yup his mother was a star at the mom’s college though she did not dole out the standard stuff, she didn’t need a good stare did it all.

Just as he was about to present Lilting voice Leela the rose, “Whack”

He wondered if the chair hit him when he knelt to give the rose, but when opened his eyes, it was his mom, nostrils flaring, deep breathing,

“Where is the cake?”

“Cake what cake!!”

“the one that you baked here,”

“How did you know” he stammered, he didn’t even consider stout denial, there was something about lean mom brandishing a handbag that the truth would blurt out as if having a power of its own,

The stare just continued,

“Sneaky Sid,”

“No, go on”

“Snitch Sheila…No…well I give up”

He had to know, so he tried again,”I think mom, it only fair that you prove that I did it,”

“well” sighed his mom, “You confessed on the first whack, but the too clean a kitchen and hall, and lingering fragrance of Vanilla, they were the clues my son, You should have opened the window the smell would have diluted.”

Well with a super-sleuth for a mom, it’s done and dusted it is done and busted!!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

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Chill and Heal

This year I am “Indi-spired “ to increase my vocabulary as much as possible, so I looked up the  dictionary for the meaning of vacation. We’ll look at it along the way.

Once upon a time Vacation began on April 11th and would be over on May 22nd.it fixed, and Bhima-ajja my grandfather’s brother would come home riding on the Java motorcycle he owned and we would zoom down the dread perampalli forest, ambagilu, over the Kalyanpur river, and turn right into Kolagiri to Belmaar, where all of us would collect, and vacation meant sugarcane fields (mouth ulcers due to over eating of sugarcane), mangoes off the tree (a challenged intestine due to over-eating again) cashew apples, and sore throat due to binging. Vacation meant stories from Kittadoddamma and Padmavati-amma. Jaggery coffee with Melmatta ajja, We would walk distances of 7 -10 kilometers, without bothering about the heat, while today I cannot think of stepping out without my two-wheeler.

We would move from one cousins house to the other, entire battalion  of cousins,  it was a peak into the adult world that was shut to us during  school.  The politics of  Jayanthi who came to milk the cows, the romance of kitta and lakki who tended to the sheep and worked as farm hands. The proposed alliance between Mala aunty and the third son of Neelavara Udupa so things went on.  there were weddings to attend, and Jatre to go to, night long Yakshagana it was a respite.

The rest of the cousins had absolute freedom, while my mother would insist on holiday homework of one page each of English, Kannada and Hindi copy writing and revision of maths exercise of the year gone and tables one each written five times. Of course we did learn how to bend these rules, yet we did finish the homework.

October holidays were shorter 3rd October to 28th October we visited some out of state relative or went for a conference with dad, that meant we got to see new places and meet a different set of people. That was fun in its own way.

By the time we reached college vacation took a different meaning, though it still meant travelling like true Indians we went to places where we could avail home hospitality and catch up with cousins our peer group. These were the days before summer camps and holiday “personality building” and “talent grooming”. We really relaxed, recuperated, and were rejuvenated.  When we returned to school we were thoroughly bored out by the fag end of the vacation and were rearing to meet our friends and plan new horrendous activities to harass the teachers.

With motherhood vacation came to mean  intermission and respite or time of respite from something, like the morning rush of packing two lunch boxes before 7.15 am, rushing to pick thick the kids from school, dropping them to classes, handing the cooking, laundry, tidying, dusting, de-cluttering, and my clinic  I would just drop the kids at my mother’s place. While I interacted with other kids, as resource person for various workshops. that was my vacation time.

Since I seem to reporting instead of storytelling or narrating, its time I vacate this slot, that is leave this space until the storyteller returns… the last meaning of vacation in Merriam-Webster the act of vacating.

On Siblings

Siblings are people born to the same parents.

I remember my mother talking of two of her cousins, when they were young they would for every be playing chor-police and then it would end in a fight Dewar style, my mother’s irate aunt yelled can’t you do role play about brothers, the boys immediately obeyed and decided to play Vali- Sugriva.  It is kind of sometimes you love them sometimes you hate them scenario.

The intricate tangle of love, duty and resentment that ties the siblings’ together is amazing. The glances exchanged the complicated balance these were having established over decades. The rules of the game played are something that someone who does not belong to sibling circle may find it kind of difficult to understand.  Maybe that is the key, I mean this is a natural group it makes others feel remarkably singular in comparison. Over twenty years now has shifted out of the country and we have drifted, when I see other siblings it brings home the I’m missing.

Yes he does drop in once in every two years, but between visiting his in-laws, the numerous puja’s sight-seeing and shopping on his side and my work and family commitments on my side it we probably meet for half a day.

I hear this very commonly expressed and rather romantic notion of “Rakhi-brother/sister” let’s get real; the fact is we might be better served to accept that we are all siblings. After all siblings fight pulls each other’s hair, steal stuff and accuse each other indiscriminately. But siblings do know the undeniable fact that they are the same blood, with same origins and are family, even when they hate each other that put a lot of things into perspective.

Probably just as famous as the sibling bonding is the it’s sibling the sibling rivalry happens due to the toxicity created by parents comparing one sibling unfavourably with another, the target child feels he’s not doing enough to gain parental affection. This motivates the child to do whatever the parents want to regain their favour, this divide and conquer technique is often unleashed against children who become a little too independent threatening the balance of the family system.

Despite rivalry most siblings have this acceptance…he/she is my sibling…my blood, she/he annoys the hell out of me, most of the time but when it comes right down to it I want see him/her graduate from college and have a little annoying mini-Ram’s and mini-Seeta’s running around in the future. When I look at my mother and her siblings I realize that sibling relationships outlast marriages, survive the death of parents, resurface after quarrels that would sink any friendship, they flourish in a thousand incarnations of closeness and distance, warmth, loyalty and distrust.

Certainly people do get along without siblings, single children do and there are people who irreparably with their siblings who live full and satisfying lives, yet to have siblings and not make the most of that resource is squandering one the greatest interpersonal resources one could ever have. Between you and me siblings that say they never fight well, are definitely hiding something.

“We Love, We Fight!
We feel Proud, We envy!
We Support, We Differ!
But whenever someone else tries to talk against anyone, we are always together.
And whenever we have any reason to celebrate, we are together.
Yes, we are siblings!”
― Pankaj Gupta

 

Serious Blogging? What do ya think?

#SeriousBlogging

Why do you blog?
A: Partly to make Butterflies and Wheels more frequently updated and more interactive (as well as that bit more interesting, I hope), but also because I think the world des-perately needs to hear my opinions, and I like to oblige.”
― Ophelia Benson

Has blogging reduced to meaningless activity? That’s for you to answer. For me my blogs are conversation with unknown person at a chaikhana.

Can bloggers make significant contribution to the society dealing with significant issues seriously?

What is a blog in the first place – a written material published on the web. If it is a verb then the action that creates the blog is also a blog while the person indulging in the activity is a blogger.

Why do most of us blog? Lets be honest we are doling out answers people don’t want to hear to questions they didn’t ask. Most of us advertise our opinion, some of us flaunt our language skills, what ever. Many of us who have voices and concerns that we would like to voice, but are reluctant to approach a publisher for whatever reasons, so blogs come to our rescue. Then are people who want information, then there are exhibitionists.

Each of us as bloggers are only as effective as our reader outreach.  Of course some of them in turn may have a greater range of influence. But as of now we just accept what www.Klout.com gives us just in case we are interested. Our readers connect to us depending on what they perceive as our credibility. If we are perceived as sincere despite the fact that people may disagree, our thoughts and our opinions get acknowledged, that in itself is a great achievement. Whether we can bring about a revolution ….I doubt… a change possibly. Just this morning I read Sucheta Dalal’s blog and took an appointment with my bank manager as I needed some answers.

What we write, is our choice, we can do it in all sincerity, with all conviction, its outcome depends on the reader and the attitude of the reader if the person is the kind to take to action they would, if the person is an armchair revolutionary then it would trigger debates, if you make someone uncomfortable, they could pelt stones at you, and if the person is an armchair delinquent then welcome to the world of internet trolling.

There are people who take on video-blogging, or podcasting, there are people who are working with language on the brink of extinction, to revive it they of course opt of Vblog or YouTube. If you are looking at the immediate revolution brewing in the backyard forget it, yes but we do influence people to an extent again instead of. Our arms circle, this time round we don’t know who we are influencing.

Well Tomichan Matheikal, it looks like you are bringing me back to introspection, and questioning. Thank You.

This blog is written for the 162nd Edition of Indispire.

The Weave, religion and Politics

Why religion?

Maybe it is a way of life I am not really very sure. What occurs to me is we are dealing with the divine right issue here.

Religion is essentially a state of religiosity, I would say sister Nirmal is in her 20th year of religion but saying Yogi Whateveranand is the 20th year of his religion sounds rather whacky.

In everyday life we look at religion as a personal or institutional set of practises. It means conformity, it eludes a cause of principle or system or belief held with ardent faith. Now here is the crux of the matter, my principle or your principle, you or me, me over you, makes me more powerful.

The non Abrahamic orient was quite happy in the texture of divine right, the king was divine, if he was human like Dhritarashtra then we sanctifying him by having a diety endorse him, like Krishna did to Yuddishtra, or a Brahmin sanctifying him using scriptures.

Interestingly in the abrahamic tradition, the first murder came out from an religious act, the offering brought to God by Abel and Cain the sons of Adam and eve, Cain the farmer offers the first fruits of the soil, while Abel the shepherd offers the first lamb, and god plays favourites… Cain’s jealousy gives way to rivalry and violence and viola murder happens. This pattern is still on just look at the story of Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau down the lineage, we have the Christians versus the Jews, Jews versus Muslims and Muslims versus the Christian and hellaluja,,, my bitchy conclusion comes at the end.

But think of it religion has spilt blood all through the Jain scriptures claim that Ravana was a Vidhyadhara prince, and the disciple of the 2nd Jina ajithanatha, he was killed by Rama who wanted to protect the animal sacrifice’s , and lo behold the story of winner became the story of God against demons.

Despite being healing religion maintains its killing side.

In this era of Trump and being fashionably  global perception of religion, and politics is,

  • Islamophobia
  • Gay marriages
  • Abortions etc.

In India it is about Islamophobia of course, other than that is about the altering north-Indian pattern of patriarchy. And south being confused, with northern values and ideology being flushed on them these are social issues and not religious. So how does religion play into politics… I could be wrong but this is what came in my space

Religion does effect political belief, at quite an individual level, if you look at it, religion could lead to political conversions and the vice-versa could happen too.

From political vantage, the choice people make is strongly influenced by their religious allegiance campaigns are framed on this, history shows that their people who have changed their religion for political gains, well lets me respectable and say beliefs.

  • To some people religion could be a shadow influence on the political belief, this is when they are part of particular religious groups so early that the symbols and narrative are part of the mindset, so despite of converting out it stays, these people tend to substitute strong political views for religious views. – to me this was the dominant generation that claims to have got us our independence. – this is also the space where we find our political activists.
  • Another set which is reverse of the previous, its starts with no religious afflation, and convert to a religion over time and this effects his political belief, the stage that our society is in today.
  • Then you have the political activist, where there is no political conversion, but simply consists of children keeping their family’s religious lifestyle by applying it to a political sphere which could foreign to their family, here religion fuels political activism, this is the space where the catholic clergy aiding the poor,comes from, we also have the VHP equivalent of educating the north-eastern youngsters.
  • Then there is a prototype where primacy is on the political arena than on religious experience, the person may or may not be engaged in religion. Though the person may present religious stances and inspiration, his religion takes a back seat to his politics, which is the exact reversal of the first.
  • The fifth totally rejects the political realm and places primacy on religion. The community centres round sequestering themselves from outside, and estrange themselves from the political happenings around them.

To me these become important because we are talking about. Man being community being, family being the smallest unit the hierarchy is built to the country. Family places a role in organized religion, and like I said, organized religion is about power hierarchy. We begin to talk about personal space, and way of living.  Issues of life style and values get threatened.

The great war of abrahamic nations continues in India, interestingly the game changer Christianity has remained in the shadow, it the Christianity that gave the modern Hindu his definite identity… not just a  person who is not a Muslim or not a Christian. It is the Christian education that told the modern Hindu about his oppression, in return the Hindu plays the game.

The divine right is still the essence except the from the kings the divinity has passed to the Ram Mandir, and Babri Masjid. Instead of Cain and Abel or  Isaac and Ishmael, we have Hindu and Muslim !!

So I guess what cannot be cured as to endured and resolved.

written for indispire 161 edition, prompt by Tomichan Matheikal who blogs at  https://matheikal.blogspot.in/

I swear Tomichan I have not used brains for really ages, I actually had to rescue it from coma… so do excuse me if my writing is out of the loop.

Cinders.

Burning of Holika… happened when Hiranyankashapu wanted to destroy his son Prahalada the old wives give it a simple good wins over evil hue. There are people who give it profound philosophical depth about burning the negatives within us, and going to the “morally superior” plane. To the sceptic in me it occurs, that okay we collect all the winter dry debris and burn it, garbage gone, dull and dried out… and welcome spring which is all about procreation and energy.

After recovering from 40% burns, through sheer willpower and grit, reference to three things I would like to burn seems like flagging a red cape before the bull. But maybe so, because the colour red exciting the bull is all bullshit..

Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, palak paneer in the pot nine days old… the young shop assistant looks at me aghast …I possibly could not confess that i left this cooker on a burning stove and went out to the market!!

Hey interesting isn’t it when stove burns it contains the fire; it uses fuel, gives out heat, that is another usage of the word burns. I definitely think twice something that consumes fuel and gives off heat… after all resources are not squandered. .

Burn is also combustion… like the engines of various vehicles, well would I want to do that I do not have the technical knowhow, and having dealt with my own personal spontaneous combustion I think I rather give it a skip,  think about this lingering bottled up anger… it never reveals the true colours of an individual then it slowly gets all mixed up, rotten, confused, and becomes, very volatile unstable and combustible then one small ignition and boom the explosion occurs totally foreign and different to the natural self… yes we definitely skip it.

When the stove burns it contains the fire, this helps to cook, to keep warm whatever, we are all born with the fire within us, do,  should we contain it like the stove or do we let it out free for all… containing it would mean experiencing discomfort like burning with jealousy, shame or whatever we choose to call the cinders, or we could burn with ambition, give it fuel, let the light and heat out and accelerate to action, so that the human doing will manifest as the powerful human being.

It’s okay  if the burn down as occurred like a burnt down houses, it’s not a burn sentence on an electric chair, one can rise from the ashes like the phoenix and fly to different vista’s at different altitudes.

The Kabala has a beautiful philosophy, which is each week comes with its own unique opportunities for transformation. When we do connect with the energy of the week then we transformed, we are empowered and the major shift occurs. Maybe the belief that transformation happens when we are ready for it has been burnt too deep into me, so I think this musing over three things which would burn… flags the connect. However the bottom line, things I would burn

  • The stove to cook the food that nourishes.
  • Incense that cleanses and takes the staleness away.
  • Body fat to make myself more aesthetic.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

 

Do Not Undo

What I didn’t do this week end,

“What have you done Cleopatra” is a refrain we use to practise emotions in our theatre rehearsals.

But here is the query…what didn’t you do…

Kids these days have not really faced this, moms squinting, raising an eyebrow, which a Natyashastra scholar would call,”Utkshipta” and the vision would penetrate right through the seven secret doors, the trolls, three headed dogs, flying keys, magical potions, or monstrous chessboards that Harry potter had to cross to reach the mirror that tells your inner most desire just turn impotent here. This look was perfected by mother, and teachers, and then question would be popped rather menacingly, “What did you do”

After such harrowing experience “what didn’t you do” should technically be a breeze, but buddy, now that I have began to pound the laptop, I realize, there is a catch, I am posed with choices,

  • The checklist—that is I am supposed to do these things but I have not done it,
  • I have done what I was supposed to do, and what are the hypothetical things I that could have done and I did not do.

If I go with the first then logical query would why you not did…Were you procrastinating…evading…escaping or just were you just not aware that were to do the task.

If I were to go with the second then the issue is are talking of knowing something that you can do, but did not do, it can be done in any case, or are we talking about things that we do not know that we can do… this whole question turns rather complex.

I now empathize with my patients, what should I say that sounds right, or what is that the doctor really wants to hear.

What I normally do when I am unclear is I check the dictionary… Merriam Webster is my favourite check out what exactly the word means, then I figure how it would pan out in my place. I did not it this weekend. I decided to check out the quotes many times I get clarity of vision there, the book on quotes some made it about right and wrong.

It was the round robin we play…”king of the palace lost his cap

Some say this and some say that I say it is Cleopatra.”

Cleopatra replies, “I sir,”

“Yes sir,’’

‘’No sir””

“Who then sir”

“I say it is Harry Potter” this game can go on… but it did not give me a solution. What next…? Let’s look at the opposite of doing, since if I did not do… then something had to be done…which was undone, and not doing something about my not doing anything…

Let’s not confuse issues, to learn and not do actually about not learning, and to know and not do, is about not knowing. Somewhere we mistake activity for achievement, so at the end of the end, I have concluded, I do not know what I have done, or what I have not done… what remains is I have not undone.

 

 

Life Sentenced

Describing my in 10 sentences….

Just a minute I need to contact my junior Jeevan Rego who was asked to write five sentences on his mother in the 2nd standard here is what he wrote with the numbers in place.

  • My mother is my mother her name is Amma.
  • My mother is also my brother Santosh’s mother.
  • My mother is very pretty and she has many sarees.
  • My mother is studying in fislogy (physiology for you and me) department.
  • Then my mother married my father.

This was shared by our teacher. As for my life, I have been writing… stories since the age of five,as most people could not comprehend my spelling I earned first academic gold star.. it was in story telling… what I did before that i am clueless but I like to pass it off as research. During my teenage years appropriately educated by the Marx and Groucho’s I went about life,rather purposefully looking for the leak in the gas pipe with a lighted candle.

My sainted aunt the ryder is story  in 10 sentences… do I pronounce a judgement on the criminal activities I have done like hanging a picture or killing time or massacring language…I think I will stick to the conclusions I have come to after deliberately not deliberating…  the story of my life in ten sentences as decreed

  1. I was born on the precise date I was to parents who loved me.
  2. I am not dead, so I can have my coffee in peace.
  3. Physiologically a little fatigued but fit and fine… no sentences of hypertension, or diabetes as yet.
  4. . well a little unstable fond of adventures sentenced to periodic evaluation by Sir Roderick Glossop.
  5. Pathology hidden sentenced to excavation.
  6. Socially contradictory has the potential to absolutely crazy if the right catalyst present but by and large tends to be a wet blanket…sentenced to a ten minutes happiness tracking therapy every day.
  7. Spiritually uplifted… with steady feni flow.
  8. Intellectually challenged by the constant company of Lord Emworth’s sister I have just enough intelligence to open mouth when I have to eat.
  9. Everything I like and is fun to do is immoral, illegal or just fattening.
  10. Once I thought I heard the call of love, fortunately for me, it was the wrong number.

PS    i am not always good and noble, but since I am the hero of this piece , I get to hide my off moments.

Now that the sentences have been delivered, after conclusions drawn… Merriam Webster has the third interpretation for the word sentence – which I think is obscenely tedious any way let me share it –as sentencea word , clause, or phrase or group of clauses or phrases forming a syntactic unit which expresses an assertataion, a question, a command, a wish, an exclamation, or the performance of an action, that in writing usually begins with a capital letter and includes with appropriate end punctuations and in speaking is distinguished by characteristic patters of stress, pitch and pauses.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

Holdin’Hans

Holding hands

#Holding hands, love, romance, sunset, and whatnot…. what does one write about it? Maybe I should write about love, how about, how a hand can silence thousands of voices and how someone’s smell can make you feel at home despite of being million miles home.

I wonder how many of have really held the hand someone we love… not in the passing like a loose link, but truly clasp, with pulses of the wrists beating together, fingers mapping the knuckles and nails like a cartographer learning a country by heart. The pressure, the warmth whispering a communication, and you responding to it.

Yet holding hands can come with so many  intonations, like the my mother holding my hand well she didn’t have time for it, maybe Bhagi holding my hand to precise my little finger as took my first step, the grip that said, “bade chalo” I am there if you stumble. When I held my daughters fingers as they took their first step, the immense pride I felt.

The first day at school, as my grandmother held my hands through the maze or what looked like an ocean of people at Padma Sheshadri the grip that said, this is the world at large and you can swim, that imbibed strength in me, as I held my daughters hands when they went school, i could feel the apprehension, the need for assurance that they will be safe, an instinct in me telling me bundle her up and take her home. I did exactly what my grandmother did, I knelt beside her, and told her, “baby, this is a wonderful place, where you will find children just like, you will have teachers who will tell you stories, and a playground where you can play, I am just outside the gate waiting for me when the long bell goes I shall take you home.

Or should I share those times, when my friend held my hand to restrain me from bashing someone who was bothering us, after all one cannot hold a gun when one is holding hands.

Maybe I should talk of holding hands, connecting to one another and this chain of humans holding each other’s hands creating a powerful community bonding.

Of course we don’t talk of the bully hands that hold you down, maybe violate, or suffocate another; we pretend they do not exist.

Coming back to holding hands, sometimes reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey, at other times it is allowing another to take yours.plinky helping hands

When I was in the hospital being treated for burns it was the terminal ward, it was evening and the Parish priest from our church  came for his evening courtesy call, he sat by,   made some small talk and enquired if they would  like him to say a prayer, they replied yes, he then invited them to join him, which they did hands clasped eyes closed and the priest rendered the prayer, this was so moving, in retrospect I wonder if this is the nearest we humans get to whatever God is, when we hold hands and listen.

 

 

 

Frae Whaur Ah See

Let’s take a reality check,

Well.. What is real something ?

I remember seeing this episode, on television, where the protagonist is an actress she tells her brother, it takes me 15hrs of work to 5lakhs and it takes you 15 minutes to blow it up.  We could talk about the make believe world of the actors, we could talk about ivory towers, well that is their reality.

This whole concept of real, unreal, illusion it is all so confusing,  is Harry Potter real? What would my parameter for real be? Is a Vblog real?  If real is something you can see and hear, well you can do that on when you view my Vblog, but it is only through internet, there is absence of touch. You can see me read me, comment on me, I connect with you on all these platforms, but I do not know where you are from, what your actual name is…. though I know all that about Harry Potter, his fears, dreams , strength and weakness, does that make him real and you an illusion?

The tenet of of reality goes, that it is intangible, or existential, or the experimental truth, but which one of them is my reality? Reality is not something that is a derivative nor is it dependent. It could be an illusion, yet it is quite persistent. Now does all that sound tangled and contradictory?

The duality of life, the sathya and mithya… hindu philosophies ponder quite bit on it, but somewhere along the way, Shankaracharya who said “Aham Brahmasmi” gave us “Bhaja Govindam” and Madhavacharya who gave us “Vayu Jeevothama, Hari Sarvothama ” gave us, ikya. Isn’t it strange, that the beliefs transform along the way.

Somewhere I realize that reality to great extent is our thinking,

Reality is about being real and nothing ever becomes real until is experienced, so does that make the past unreal? Well maybe but scars have a strange way of reminding us that our past is real.

Again if reality is the experiential world we live in it is framed on the beliefs that we harbour, and maybe each of us live in our own unique world, which kind of private and very different from that inhabited and experienced by others… if reality is differs from to person to person, then reality is no longer monolithic or in a single plane… maybe it is time to talk about plural realities… with plural realities should we consider some more real than the other? Maybe the bunch of similar realities then what happens to the world of a schizophrenic? For the schizophrenic it is real… we then are in a place where we can no longer say that we are in touch with reality and he is not. We probably are in a state where he lives his reality and cannot get us in touch with it, while we live our reality and we cannot get him to connect with it, so what are we talking about?

madhva acharya

Edition#153

Difference in communication… then probably that is the real problem. To me there is no reality except the contained within us, which could why so many people live such unreal lives, they take the images from outside them for reality, and do not allow the world within to assert itself.

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