More Than Science And religion


I deliberate. That I do most of the day. I have nothing substantial to deal with.  My mental eye tracks behind. It is a reverse osmosis of the intellectual faculties. Like the ocean, my thoughts flow, my mind associates a conversation It is me, with me, between me, me and me throughout.
Today, the issue is faith and Science. The two being similar but, defy each other.
Blasphemous it appears. They go on with an indifference felt.
I learned a report of loss. A guy in his prime, in good health and with nil clinical complaints died in the early morning. How could this take place? No symptoms but mortality have befallen. How will science dispute this death?
 My comrade is in excellent health. She knows no sign of exhaustion, feels no discomfort, seems strong, and full of life.  The clinical investigations differ.   How will science interpret her alertness?
Another striking example consisting to a next of kin. He consumes spurious drinks, smokes like a steam engine, sensual, dines with no limitations,  commemorates his ninetieth anniversary in such splendour, knows no ailments. How will science attribute his survival?
Been in a fertility clinic two days ago.  A group of females aged  25 and above queuing up for the examinations.The partners form another line. The  Doctors are investigating the results. One hand ticks, the other hand receives the cash.  The couple strolled out with a dream. Staying longer,  I incline towards a husband and wife having a baby- a treasure for them. The child is six months old. Looks fair, with azure eyes dark hair, My prodding mind keeps me at the ends. The baby looks distinct from the parents. I presume there has been a transposition of sperms.
Is it honest? Will religion be able to acknowledge?
The earth is dry. The rains have failed. It is global warming cry the conservationists. It is nature’s fury shout the spiritual m  Man has defied  Has abused nature by his unmindful behaviour.Hence the consequences.   Getting closer to it, we find, they mean the same. Here learning and faith lie on the identical coordinates.
One can go on. It will be an endless commentary.
Stepping out, I see a force that guards us, that directs us, that raises us, drops us.  the longer you hurt the one beside, the larger you deprive the other, the more you tell lies, the more you accuse, the more you suppress, the more you suffer.  Religion says these in sermons and discourses. Science shows them with its experiments and investigations.  Both lead you. It is you who has to pick  It is you who has to deliver the good.

My Way of Handling Disaster


I read the Tamilnadu Disaster management’s call on 17/April/2017 asking people to stay indoors as the heat wave is expected to commence soon. I brushed aside the warning. I told myself it is the way they forecast every time and nothing turns true.
The next day did come. I had made an elaborate planning. I wanted to go shopping. First, buy vegetables, then provisions, run to the ration shop to procure the monthly distribution allotted to me, then buy matching blouse bits for sarees which I had not worn for years.The reason for not wearing them being I have outgrown my blouses and if I wear them I will be stifled to death.
years.
It was dawn. I opened my doors and gate. I picked up the newspapers and walked to my usual place at the verandah. I sat on the cane chair. I felt something hot passing through. I stood up, steadied myself and reclined. My entire back seems to be in contact with red coal. I jumped and went inside. I switched on the fan and opened the papers. Gosh, my head went reeling. The fan emitted hot air enough to make one dizzy. I threw the paper down. I sat on the plain floor. It was so warm that I could not stay there much longer.
Remembering my plans, I rushed to the bathroom to have a shower. Water came out in full force. My head got scorched and my I was sweltering.  Quickly came out and dressed. I walked into the kitchen and switched on the stove. I was perspiring and the kitchen added to my misery. I have bathed once again in my sweat. I heaved and panted.  I took my place int dining table. I could eat nothing as I had drunk pints of water.  Letting my breakfast rot on the table, I moved to my living room and fell flat n the floor.
The warm tiles provided a solace. I lay there like a stone the whole day.
Finally, the weather forecast has come true for once. I smile wryly.

I Am Indigenous


 

I enter my hometown airport, Madurai. The flight lands with a thud glides through the runway. I see around. The grass is sparse and dry. The tarmac shining under the red -hot sun. The orderliness I found so long midst the passengers seems to diffuse. Before the plane came to a halt, they spring up, pull their hand baggage. The air hostess announces them not to do so. It falls on deaf ears.
They switch on the mobiles, call their relatives, speak in a loud voice. The door opens. There is a mad rush. One of a kind of school children coming out of their class.

It is immigration. There is no queue. Pushing one another they go to the officials. It is chaos all around. No discipline found either way. The same could be found in the luggage clearance spot. Imagine it is the very same people who got into the flight with such orderliness behaving so different in the Indian soil. I wonder.

Well, that is India. The impetuosity and vibrancy both seamlessly merge producing a lovely mix. These are people who are scholars, professionals and businessmen coming from abroad. Those who make India proud in the alien soil.Those who earn in dollars. Make millions a year. Yes, when they return home they lose their complacency, turn an Indian full of life having no restrictions whatsoever.

I drive through the city. The temple bells ring. The loudspeakers are in full form. Music flows through. The men are seen on the benches of the tea shops.They discuss politics while the women are busy at home preparing the meals for their children. It is life as seen in a portraiture.

What does make an Indian? Is it the food? Is it the culture? Is it the ancientness? Is it the religion? Is it the relationship? Is it the closeness? Too many interrogations keep me at crossroads.

Apparently, the richness of food found in every part of India stimulates the taste buds and triggers the mental eye. The proportions of sugar in all its forms, salt, chilli, and the bitterness along with the spices which embellish the dishes serve as gastronomical delights and at the same time lend food for thoughts. The combinations work and deliver an agility. They invigorate the mind which is expressed in many terminologies of science and literature, art and philosophy.

The culture bowls over all other factors. The heritage as found in India out beats all other countries more so the enormous powers, United States of America, United Kingdom and Germany. The music is part of Indian life. Mostly everyone listens, sings, at least hums a tune. The dance and drama expound the territorial folklore. The modern cinema though a little unrealistic enlivens the society with its releases. The majority are commercial while a few are indicative of out of box thinking.

India, being the cradle of civilisation abounds with inscriptions, insignia and transcriptions of Vedas that date back to the early centuries. These were recited and passed on to the next generations orally and much later was transcribed in written form. The earnestness in learning the Vedic treasures by rote sharpened the brains of the Indians. It became a receptacle. It could hold the knowledge to the maximum.

The family is the prime in India. It is the proximity and love the Indians share attribute to their success.The family is the nucleus. Life revolves around it. Could I say that this bondage is the foremost reason for any Indian to achieve glory?

Coming to me, I am a butt of everyone’s mockery. Clad in a sari, with a long sleeved blouse, hair tied up in a bun and with a big bindi on my forehead, eye me with a flutter in their eyes. “Oh! this dame must be from India, more so from a rural belt. She can’t speak a word of English. Can’t she apply a makeup and cover her flaws?” These are the common comments about me. I smile at them, at their ignorance, at their narrow mindedness. I rarely dispute them.Running a business meritoriously, keeping my family together, making my boys shine in their professions, serving my husband all the while I feel proud. I am indigenous. I am Indian.

An unforgettable experience I had was during my flight in Lufthansa, where I could relate to the food and interactions with the crew. A homely environment made me feel that I am at home surrounded by my kith and kin. It calls for no surprise as I could find a similarity between Sanskrit and German. The great Max Mueller surfaces slowly and I am conquered. bit.ly/2oQTj8q

# MoreIndianThanYou Think