Vedanta learning once a week

Thanks to a friend, I discovered the Chinmaya Mission in New York and the work they do. With branches all over the world, they extend valuable teaching & understanding of Indian scriptures and texts, some of which are thousands of years old. For a while now I have been searching for some centers where Icould go to learn and further my spiritual growth. So I attended 2 of their classes so far and enjoyed them quite a bit. Since it seems for now that I will be attending them regularly, I thought to spend some space here and talk about what we are discussing and more importantly what I am learning. Hope you enjoy it.

Currently the class is reading Vivekachoodamani. You can read more about the book at the link but in a gist it talks about discriminating against your body, vitality, mind and intellect to arrive at the unrealized and ultimate concept of Aham Brahamasme or I am the universe. Each of us is the universe and as such we have unlimited potential but the mind and all the other faculties or koshas come in the way. We are too engrossed in the body and depend on it for all our identification. But we are not the body, we need to go deeper to understand what and who we really are. Once we go deeper, we meet several others who claim to be us but we have to discriminate against them too because when we apply reason and the universe’s logic we realize we are not these. The next, after the body, is our vitality or what we call prana. Our organs, our breathe remind us we are a living, breathing creature. So it would only be logical that we are our prana and it is our ultimate destination. But Sankaracharya says no, we are not these either and asks us to continue our journey further into the crevices where next we meet the mind – a very powerful tool that we mainly use destructively. The mind wanders, creates thoughts and builds fantasies that keep us tied to the world of Maya, this mirage, an illusion of life that we are living. So are we the mind? No, we already know we are not the mind. So we go further to find the intellect. Now, there is a lot of difference between the mind and the intellect. The mind is a combination of thoughts, perception, memory, emotion, will, imagination, etc. but the intellect is more concerned with reasoning, abstract thought, understanding, communication, reasoning and so forth. In Sanskrit intellect is called buddhi, a close resemblance to Buddha, which means the enlightened One. So are we the intellect? Nope, we are not.

We discriminate against all these until we finally arrive at the consciousness that we are, that each one of us is coming from and where ultimately we will all travel to. These other koshas – body, vitality, mind and intellect are merely tools given to us to realize the quintessential reality. Last class we finished discriminating against the body – anamaya kosha and the vitality – pranamaya kosha. Next up will be manamaya kosha (discrimination against the mind).

As is the case with everything, there are several schools of thought that promote the belief of realization. Vedanta (which means end of the Vedas) doesn’t negate any of these but instead classifies them into a hierarchy. In India, idol worship is rampant and most people visit the temple at least once a day to offer their prayers and perform sorts of rituals. This relationship, Vedanta calls, is that of the worshipper and the worshipped, i.e. bhakti (supreme deity) and the bhakt (worshipper). Problem, however, is most people take this relationship far too seriously and end their search here. They believe once they visit the temple or perform their daily dose of worship they will attain the truth. But it doesn’t work that way, does it now? This is the first step where 99% of the people are stuck. But we need to travel further up where we meet the Ramanuja school of thought, which promotes the belief that we are part of this universe. There is only one Brahman but it is characterized by its multiplicity. It also says that the 3 main scriptures – the Gita, Upanishads and the Brahma sutras should be interpreted in way that shows this unity in diversity, otherwise it would violate their consistency. The final theory is the Advaita or non-dualistic system of thought, which says Brahma satyaṃ jagat mithyā, jīvo brahmaiva nāparah — Brahman is the only truth, the world is an illusion, and there is ultimately no difference between Brahman and individual self.

Ultimately, I think, theories and schools of thoughts don’t really matter. They help you think, analyze and choose your way but if the first approach works for you opposed to the last one, I am no one to say it is wrong. As long as you are being transformed into something positive, the catalyst can only be good.

The first few chapters

From the moment I started reading Never Let Me Go, suspense hung in the air. There was something…different about the story, something I knew the narrator, Kathy was going to bring up soon. The story is about a boarding school in England, called Hailsham and Kathy narrates how it was like growing up there and the experiences she had. Currently she is much older and not living there anymore but the place has created an indelible mark on her and she is never really able to let it go. Hence perhaps the name, Never Let Me Go. She talks about two friends the most – Ruth & Tommy. Ruth is her best friend and Tommy is someone she talks to regularly at Hailsham about things she normally doesn’t bring up with her other friends, Ruth included.

Ruth has a very strong personality and it is clear she is the leader of their pack. Tommy starts off being noisy, throwing tantrums which means he is the target to some mean pranks by his fellow boarders. This doesn’t last too long and Tommy changes his attitude which results in him getting more respect from the others.

Currently a carer, Kathy carefully drops a line or two here about what was different about the boarding school but is careful to not divulge too much and keep you engrossed in her tale. All the children are constantly told they are different which means they have to behave more politely, not indulge in anything they are told not to, stay away from smoking – absolutely frowned upon – and in general keep all vices at bay. This morning, on the bus I came to the part where some of this was clear. I know now why the guardians and teachers at Hailsham would have ensured zero exposure to cigarettes and smoking if they could. I won’t reveal it but needless to say I want more!

My gut told me something was different about this book. So far, I am right. It is not an ordinary tale of love, romance or friendship. There is something peculiar going on in this story so I’ll keep plowing through. Let’s see what the suspense is all about. So far, yes going very well!

It works and I feel like an idiot!

After much frustration with downloading Never Let Me Go, I called Barnes & Noble on their customer support number. After a few minutes the friendly voice of Jason (no, sorry Robert) came up and he asked me how he could be of service. I explained the problem and he gave me a few options -- try downloading again -- nope didn't work. OK, let me delete them and re-add them he said -- would take 4 hours! Then he says, well why don't you turn it off and re-start the device? Voila! LOL! That's all it needed! Then he says, try to trouble shoot before you call us. Huh!? My god not only was I embarassed but he made me feel like a complete idiot!

On another note, Never Let Me Go; here I come!

Technology...the necessary evil!

It's been a while that these electronic reading gadgets have been out. For the longest while, I debated if I really wanted to buy one, because, well there is some magic to opening a book that would hitherto be lost. The smell of books, the flipping of pages, all are gone and instead replaced by a snazzy machine. Sort of like when you waited with bated breath for the mail man to bring you that letter which can now be sent in seconds via email. Yes, I didn't want to let go of the past. The biggest reason for giving up the books was saving the environment, imagine the number of trees that can be preserved now that we don't need as many pages. Wishful thinking? I think so too. They'll always figure out a way to burn this poor planet down. But I feel a bit of relief knowing I did my part. So yes, I succumbed to the e-readers!

For the most part, its a really great experience -- weighs about the same in your bag and hand. Picture is good, no strain on the eyes, long battery life blah blah blah. One big problem though -- it is technology which means sometimes the bloody thing won't work! Case in point, I went to bn.com and tried to buy a book -- the process for which was uber complicated. After 84657435438 attempts, I finally bought Never Let Me Go, a very different kind of story. Now, I am trying to download the blasted thing on the e-reader and it won't work due to several complications.

Firstly, it shows me only 34 pages. 34 pages!?! That in itself is ludicrous. Then, when I open the book it tells me there is some kind of error. Huh!? Needless to say I am soooo annoyed and am hoping this problem resolves itself so I can get into reading. If any of you know how to resolve this, please let me know. If not, I have to wait for those lazy reps from Barnes & Noble to tell me why their dumb app isn't supporting their own books! Grrr.

The Other Language

I am at a loss for words to describe the beauty of The Madman. So I am going to simply read, I recommend you do that too. The entire book is available for free online. Below is my favorite poem so far.

The Other Language

Three days after I was born, as I lay in my silken cradle, gazing with astonished dismay on the new world round about me, my mother spoke to the wet-nurse, saying, "How is my child?"

And the wet-nurse answered, "He does well madame, I have fed him three times; and never before have I seen a babe so young yet so gay."

And I was indignant; and I cried, "It is not true, mother; for my bed is hard, and the milk I have sucked is bitter to my mouth, and the odour of the breast is foul in my nostrils, and I am most miserable."

But my mother did not understand, nor did the nurse; for the language I spoke was that of the world from which I came.

And on the twenty-first day of my life, as I was being christened, the priest said to my mother, "You should indeed be happy, madame, that your son was born a christian."

And I was surprised, and I said to the priest, "Then your mother in Heaven should be unhappy, for you were not born a christian."

But the priest too did not understand my language.

And after seven moons, one day a soothsayer looked at me, and he said to my mother, "Your son will be a statesman and a great leader of men."

But I cried out, "That is a false prophecy; for I shall be a musician, and naught but a musician shall I be."

But even at that age my language was not understood -- and great was my astonishment.

And after three and thirty years, during which my mother, and the nurse, and the priest have all died, (the shadow of God be upon their spirits) the soothsayer still lives. And yesterday I met him near the gate of the temple; and while we were talking together he said, "I have always known you would become a great musician. Even in your infancy I prophesied and foretold your future."

And I believed him -- for now I too have forgotten the language of that other world.

Enchanted by something else...reading something else

Man’s Search for Meaning is truly a horrendous account of life inside a concentration camp but there are some key takeaways for me. In excellent businessy-style, I summarize them here:

n  In my life there is absolutely nothing to be complaining about

n  Though there are ups and downs, life as a whole is beautiful

n  If a catastrophe befell me (God forbid) and took everything from me, it still cannot rob me of my choice to react to the situation. So I can choose to be miserable or choose to put on a happy face and get on with it

The last point was the main reason for the author writing his story and I am happy he drove that point home with me.  The second part talks only about logotherapy, a new kind of therapy developed by the author – most of which was too complex for my insignificant brain to understand.

Moving on, I chose Madman by Kahlil Gibran. Don’t ask me why, besides not being able to find anything remotely sensible to read. My frustration was partly aggravated by the fact that I read a beautiful excerpt of an upcoming book 1857. This book was written, as the name suggests, in 1857 and is a firsthand account of a momentous event in the history of India as seen by an impoverished but learned young beggar-priest. This momentous event is the sepoy mutiny when all over India people were up in arms over the British rule. India didn’t achieve independence until 1947 so the 1857 mutiny while a historical account for the country, didn’t do much for the Raj.

Anyway, needless to say I am hunting this book down and have soldiers on the ground in Mumbai doing the dirty work for me as well. When I lay my hands on it, everything else will be dropped. Why, you shall ask. As I mentioned earlier an excellent excerpt fell in my lap and the story is about the first woman fighter in the history of India – Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi. The article is so beautifully titled The Crossdressing Raja and Rani of Jhansi. Definitely recommend reading it if you like history and have some free time.

More on Madman tomorrow.

The silent sufferers

Yesterday there was some discussion about the plight of women in India. From my post, we saw how women are still subdued in spite of progress in all other areas in the country. My comment about women being burnt got me thinking about Sati and the state of widows today.

Not everyone probably knows the meaning of Sati, so let’s start with a small history lesson. In ancient India, women were treated at par or better than men. Women could choose their own mate, make their voice heard in the Government/kingdom, obtain equal share from their paternal property and enjoy other rights hitherto taken away from them. In that sense, ancient India was more progressive than modern India. As time went by scriptures and religious connotations began to be twisted to suit men’s whim and fancy and the concept of Sati was introduced. Accordingly, if a woman’s husband died, she no longer had the right to live. So she had to jump into the burning pyre where her husband’s body was being cremated. Yes, you read that right, she had to push herself to her own death! Various reasons were quoted for this – she couldn’t live alone, other men would take advantage of her, blah blah blah – but the simple unrefined truth is she was burnt so she couldn’t claim her deceased husband’s property.

Time went by and eventually after many years the practice stopped, although I still wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere in the deep recesses of the country an odd case popped up.

So you’d think that their situation now is better, right? Wrong! True, they no longer are to commit suicide for the man they “loved” but now live a life of misery. Surviving family members usually refuse to take care of the widow (remember from yesterday, she is considered bad luck) and is cast off from the home. Certain centres do take them in but the population is so large that basic caring facilities are almost non-existent. There are however, couple such cities where all the widows flock to – Vrindavan and Mathura. These were birth place and playing ground of Krishna, the much revered deity in Hinduism. These widows are told to go there and spend a life in prayer, so it is no surprise that an already fragile city is now overburdened with throngs of widows on its streets. Lack of facilities to take care of the needy means these women end up on the street, usually with no food to eat for days and being ill-treated by passersby.

The ones fortunate enough to find a roof to rest their heads are no better. These shelters or ashrams as they are called are rife with prostitution and sexual abuse. In many cases, ashrams encourage young women to sleep with wealthy donors in hopes of cashing in on their misfortunes. Deepa Mehta’s Water was a fictional but very true attempt at showing the going-ons at these institutions.

The Government can always be blamed because they don’t do enough, they don’t provide enough facilities, there aren’t enough shelters... But who is primarily responsible for such attitudes? That would be you and me. If more people would open their eyes, regard a widow as no less than a human being, our problems are half-solved. So what if she doesn’t have a husband? Why does the identity of a woman start and end with a man? Whatever happened to the scriptures and the religion preaching to honour the mother, the woman!? More than half goddesses in India are female – what kind of contradictory worship is that?

It is always easy to discard responsibility and go the easy way – women for generations in India have fallen mercy to this practice. But that time is gone. If we want a better nation, a better world we need to take action. And that starts with remodeling our attitudes because it's us who needs to change, not the widows. No, not them.