Delightful thinkers and an almost poem

Listening to talks shows in YouTube with Yuval Noah Harari makes me think of such beautiful perceptors, who displayed such encompassing and wholesome visions and perspectives. In my extremely limited forays into listening or reading about such thoughts, Jiddu Krishnamurti, Sadhguru (I know there are controversies related to some of his sayings, but he does speak beautifully) and Harari comes across as such individuals. Also, a talk by Sir Roger Penrose I has physically attended long back (would be sometime between 2000 and 2005) comes to mind, where Penrose had stipulated that the next big thing in human breakthrough would come from perspectives we cannot even fathom by our present intellect and imagination, something well beyond all our science fictions or projections.

The thoughts from such aforementioned individuals are simply beautiful and delightful to experience.

They also make my mind wander to ideas we strive to grasp, about unknowns, about infinities. About cognizing and recognizing realities. Ancient Indian spiritual quests had forayed into these concepts of infinite and the opposite of infinite, using the terms Brahma and Shunya. Bow, if you must, only to infinity, or perhaps to the opposite of it.

In this context, let me put up a small something like a poem which I had jotted down back in December 2020 in paper, and which, unfortunately, I never could get to rhyme perfectly or have synchronized syllable counts. Nevertheless, here it is:

We drift, we fight,
We seek, we strive,
Only to be blown away
As specs of dust.

In our little holes,
We create the universe
As small as nothing
As large as infinity.

Colours we paint
Glimmers we shower
Darkness we create
To fight our own created evil, over and over.

Small is our world,
Our own creation, infinitesimal,
Yet we spend our lives
Trying to understand it all.

Statutory Warning For Books

Every non-fictional book (and non-biographical or not of personal experiences like travelogues), seeking to enlighten or educate or discourse on any subject matter, is dangerous. They are dangerous in their pretentiousness of stating "facts". They are also dangerous because of the possibility of making readers actually believe in them, and thereby defeating the true purpose of education - of enabling an individual to free himself/herself from everything "known" or taught, and being able to formulate own ideas and opinions, hitherto unknown and unheard.

Every such book should mandatorily start with the following disclaimer:

"Everything you read in this book is false. They are just an example of hypothesis and/or interpretations of observed phenomena on the subject matter. The data provided in this book are true to the extent of being as perceived by the author(s) at the time of writing this book, and their interpretations presented, if any, are just one/some example interpretation(s) of infinite possibilities. Comprehension of everything contained herein should be taken only as a mental exercise towards enabling the readers to finally find their own explanations on the subject matter."

The Evil Degenerate Woman

 

She is what we can call a perfect example of rotten human being. She will swindle, deceive, double cross everyone she can, no exceptions. She will beg, borrow, steal from anywhere she can get away with. If everyone in the world were like her, it would be an absolute hell. She knows it too. She is pretentious every social second of her life. She has no values or what we call morals. She never had. She will seek to use and manipulate everyone around her, including her families and closest circles, towards realisation of her own schemes. She will love or care about others only to the extent this can extract usefulness from the others towards her own wants. She can be honest to no one - neither to herself, nor to others.

She will prostrate and sell herself to seek out gains. Of course, she will not do it to such extent that her image is harmed to the point of adversely affecting the benefits she gets out of her present social standing. She has respect neither for herself, nor for others. She will put on shows for herself, of latching on to some abstract symbolisms of morality. These pretentious symbolisms help her in building up her half self-convictions of adhering to the social value compass, if such are ever needed, thereby enabling her to function socially.

 

If there was ever an evil degenerate woman in the compass of human perceptions, she is the one.

If there was ever a woman capable of ensuring survival of the species in a truly hostile survival-of-the-fittest environment, she is the one.

[A note: This was originally drafted somewhere in 2019, but published much later.]

The Perfect Matrimonial Match

From among my classmates, be it from school or college, I'm one of the last bachelors.

Needless to say, I keep getting varieties of advises and suggestions towards marriage (which I enjoy refuting using a ton of different reasons, none of them real). In this perspective, occasionally I had been suggested to put up a matrimony profile. And once, some years back (around 2009-2010), imagining what I may write in such a profile, I had penned down some lines.

Putting them up here.

First part talks about the "I", next part tells about what this "I" seeks.

I am pretty lazy, don't have much ambition in life, mostly a loner except when in the rare mood for company, look with an absolutely unfounded disdain towards the rest of humanity, have got called egotistical by others who I deem, of course, as endowed with the poorest of comprehension abilities. Nobody has ever accused me of bravery, though I have often been told to have displayed streaks of irrational obstinacy.

I don't care much about money, but then I don't have to anyway, never having or earning a decent amount of it.

I think the greatest pleasures in life are to be able to think, feel and act. However, for the latter, I am usually found only to be admiring it from a distance.

As a significant other, I would like someone with the beauty seen in an artist's imagination, the grace of an angel, the intelligence of a scientist and philosopher, the sensuality of a mistress, the creativity of an artist, the innocence of a child, the voice of a Siren, the efficiency of a robot, the stamina of an athlete. She should, as per my whim or desire, be homely or outgoing, shy or shameless, dull or intelligent, docile or dominating, faithful or frivolous.

She should, of course, have an unwilling desire to take care of all the everyday chores, and be extraordinarily proficient in doing so.

Well, that's all. Yes, I know, it does not have a 'proper', graceful ending. But who says that every writing should have a graceful ending?

A Tribute

Where is she, her true being? When again will I find her, she, who is no one's daughter, mother, sister, wife, lover or friend? The one, who just is, real and free.

Here I present a tribute to that woman.

A child's soul. Alone. Fighting against the whole wide world. Not a soul left she can have faith in. The once perennial fountainhead of trust have run dry. Everything appears like a mirage to her, an illusion, not something to run to, but everything to run away from. In such a hostile land, she fights, furiously, alone. Providence had not equipped her to be a fighter. She was sent to earth as a connoisseur of love, of faith, of beauty. Yet hacking and slashing in a furious desperation of survival is all that is left for her.

Yet she fights, the non-fighter, with an amazing relentless tenacity for life. Tired and heavily scarred she is, but never yielding. Full of fear in anticipation of possible hostilities the next turn of life can bring her, yet she perseveres drawing from some unknown and unfathomable source of courage within. Time and space may finally be able efface her from the face of the earth, but it will never be able to defeat her.

Rhapsody

Rhapsody of colours where the fairies of life meet. In that myriad kaleidoscope they dance away all vagaries of life in wanton mindless joy. With no past or present or future, free from the shackles of time, they sing, for no reason, and are sometimes filled with wonder at men who cannot understand or attune to this song they (human) hear.

(Originally composed on June, 2016.)

The Strange, Terrifying Land!

A land beyond the seven seas I visited today. And what a strange land it was!

A land where the people lived in complete cluelessness about who their friends were, who their enemies were, who their relations were, who their anything were.
How unsocial, I thought!

A land where people never remembered anything about past occurrences, and neither they ever made any plans for the future. Only the present provided the premises for any action.
How foolish, I thought!

A land where people never cared to own anything, or bothered to care about who might own a thing. People just took what they wanted.
What carelessness, I thought!

A land where having no codes of punishment, people had no fear. Disputes were resolved by clear and present might, then and there.
What lawlessness, I thought! 

A land where actions were governed not with thoughts of goodness or effect, but only in cognizance of the basic desire to do it, and ability and choice to face repercussions if any.
How immoral, I thought!

A land where people neither mourned or fear death, and nor did they dwell on the preciousness of life or birth.
How apathetic, I thought!

What a terrifying land it was!