Recurring Life Stoppers

People look for it. Marketers routinely use it. Yet, it stops me for a while when people get lured by that call to ‘perfect’ something — house, car, shirt, food, travel destination or accommodation. You name it and append the appellant to let its manipulative power work. Like magic, both to beckon the dreaming hearts and in fobbing off the multitudes in their harsher circumstance.

It’s one of the many expressions I classify as recurring life stoppers — classic, mysterious, unclarified. It’s real for the sensitive, and for anyone whose concerns are no longer basic, who can afford to dream of something more in his or her life. And this one — perfection — tops the list.

The word suggests a package that is complete with ‘everything in one’s desire.’ The context is the individual, who supplies it at its mention : perfect. Couldn’t be better ! Nothing, not already there, would improve it.

Which kind of rubs off its sheen. But who comes this far, analysing and breaking its wonderful spell in our experience just then ?

It isn’t that I do not believe in it, in its being. I do but more for myself, in my individual context : the thing, the situation, time, my values, and perspectival specifics I have brought over from my past and in my intent for the future. It is inconceivable that I would project my sense of it on to anyone else’s context. Looking up, from that state of freeze at its public mention, marketers must most surely be smarter than I will ever be.

The MBA-wallah is dead.

Long live the MBA-wallah !

To add, I believe even more in the effort to perfection, this once in common with each of my contemporaries. But that, unlike the material lure of a perfect package here and now, is hard work : in the making of things, surprising oneself pleasantly and causing exhilaration to rise among others, unsuspecting and unaware !

Maharana Pratap : The Hindu Nationalist

vam:

This day, 475 years ago he was born …
The Great : Pride of the land !

Originally posted on Truth Within, Shines Without:

Statue of Maharana Pratap of Mewar, commemorat... Statue of Maharana Pratap of Mewar, commemorating the Battle of Haldighati, City Palace, Udaipur. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He was a braveheart who never gave up fighting for his freedom and the for independence of the State of Mewar. The battles he fought against the might of Mughal emperor, Akbar, through victory and defeat, are the stuff of inspiring legend since they happened some 500 years ago.

Born May 9, 1540, patriotic Pratap exemplifies bravery, chivalry and sacrifice through the struggle between Rajput confederacy he led and the invading alien hordes. His was a Hindu nationalist’s crusade against relentless Muslim aggression, much in the mould of Prithviraj Chauhan, brothers Harihar and Bukka, Guru Gobind Singh,  Chhatrapati Shivaji and Chhatrasal Bundela’s against powerful armies of the same religious, cultural and administrative enemy.

Maharana Pratap perceived Mughals as foreigners who had invaded India and, though smaller in resource, he refused to surrender to guile, entreaty or threat even…

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When Kalkaji Temple was demolished … in 1667 !

vam:

The Kalkaji Temple is dedicated to the Great Mother and has been in recorded existence since 3rd Century BC.

Originally posted on Truth Within, Shines Without:

 3 September 1667
Emperor Aurangzeb issued a decree for demolishing the Kalka Temple, dedicated to the Mother Goddess. It’s what he wrote that is revealing of a senselessness that continues till date among the Taliban, Jihadists, ISI, Pakistan Army, Wahabis of Saud, Mullahs and orhtodox Muslim clerics everywhere, Kashmiri separatists, Jamaat-e-Islamists… 
Translated, I am told, it reads :
“The asylum of Shariat (Shariat Panah) Qazi Abdul Muqaram has sent this arzi to the sublime Court : a man known to him told him that the Hindus gather in large numbers at Kalka’s temple near Barahapule (near Delhi); a large crowd of the Hindus is seen here.
“Likewise, large crowds are seen at (the mazars) of Khwaja Muinuddin, Shah Madar and Salar Masud Ghazi.
” This amounts to bid‘at (heresy) and deserves consideration.
” Whatever orders are required should be issued.”
The cleric’s request is immediately admitted by the…

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In Praise Of Un-Marketing

CITY CITY BANG BANG
Santosh Desai column in Times Of India
… Quoted in toto.
A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of eating what were without question the best idlis that I have ever had. This was at a small stall in Vijaywada going by the name of Shree Ganesh Idlis. This place is a little shack on a small road in a desultory residential colony and is basic enough not to have any sign that displays its name. The idlis were divine, the upma even more so, but they had run out of dosas, which is what they are really famous for. Like many other stalls of this kind, there were clear codes to be followed-they were open only for breakfast-once they run out of batter, they shut shop for the day and idlis that become cold are not served to customers. They had been in operation for 30 years, were used to receiving guests from all over the world, but they couldn’t be bothered to add a bench for people to sit down.

All over India, there are these wonderful places that serve absolutely brilliant food and they all have one thing in common–they know when to stop.Most of these places have no branches, little by way of marketing and almost every single day, they run out of food to serve.

For anyone with a management degree or even the slightest exposure to the world of business, such behaviour seems to be nothing short of extraordinary. Why wouldn’t the owner of a successful food stall aspire to be the owner of a restaurant, perhaps even a chain of restaurants ?

Why would he not make the most basic attempt to market himself, create a brand in a more conscious way, may be advertise a little? Given that venture capital is so easily available today, why not monetize the value of the business that lies locked up otherwise ?

In fact, the dominant ethos of business today is not only to mandatorily mop up all value that is embedded in any venture, but if possible one is encouraged to also suck up future earnings in the name of valuations. The digital world is testimony to the appetite business has for earning today, what a business might one day hope to earn over several years, if not a lifetime. So many financial instruments of the day collapse future potential into present profit.

The abiding idea that drives the world of business is that of scale. Success is replicated, scaled up, leveraged.The very idea of replication is that of dead multiplication, of things breeding and coming into being without having to come alive in any sense of the word. Scale comes from granting universality of access but taking away the grainy specificity of a particular experience. In doing so, ideas become products that deliver uniformity in a way that is easy to consume. This has always been true but has become much more so today .

In a world of this kind, the idea that there are currencies of other kinds, that there could conceivably be room for people not to extract value but to let it lie unattended and fallow, would appear to be hopelessly dated. But for many ventures like Ganesh Idlis, value takes on many forms–the appreciation of customers who hunt down this place and come from far and wide, the pride of maintaining quality, the feeling of successfully carrying on a legacy , and the cussed insistence of doing the precisely right thing, simply because that’s how it should be done.

The quality of greatness, rather than that of serviceable sufficiency, comes from an ability to leave something on the table. Not every ounce of value is squeezed from a transaction; the price in this case bears no resemblance whatsoever to the value delivered. In this world, a product or experience cannot be fully described by what it costs–labels like high-end or premium get exposed for their poverty .

The difference is in the starting point–today we live in a world defined by the consumer–we begin with what we want to consume and work backwards, by stuffing things with the ingredients of success. This is as true of food as it is of management theory; we want to first find out what makes people consume more of some food or what are the seven signs of effective leaders and then go ahead and recreate those conditions to the best of our ability.

The world of Ganesh Idlis and its ilk on the other hand, begins with the creator and caters first to his needs and is constrained by the limits of his imagination as well as greed. The product is an expression of the creator’s beliefs and abilities and not a précis of consumer desires. It does both more and less than what is deemed ideal and creates its own ethos of consumption. By foregoing the value it could extract from the transaction, it rescues us from the act of con sumption by making us connoisseurs rather than mere consumers.

The world built around people who create as against people who consume is, fortunately, not just a thing of nostalgia. One of the great advantages of the internet is that it in its purest form has little regard for scale. Interesting ideas generate their own currencies and as a result, we are seeing an outbreak of creation–not only those that seek multi-billion dollar valuations, but those that put their passion out on display for the world to appreciate.Small fashion labels, sites for food lovers, archivists of traditional forms of music and dance, collectors of knowledge about traditions and customs of specific communities, the internet is teeming with those that create because they want to and not because there is a market waiting for their efforts.

The opportunity of finding meaning in acts of creation is available much more freely today . The more we are to develop currencies other than money, the richer the fruits of affluence are likely to be.

_______________________

Article originally published @

http://epaperbeta.timesofindia.com/Article.aspx?eid=31808&articlexml=CITY-CITY-BANG-BANG-In-Praise-Of-Unmarketing-04052015006012

You may correspond with Santosh Desai at : santosh365@gmail.com

Journal : Removing The Original Sin

vam:

Anthropometamorphosis …
Did you know about that ?
Clue : It’s an heinously abominal practice in Abrahamic world.

Originally posted on Truth Within, Shines Without:

Adding My Voice Against Circumcision …

In 1650, English physician John Bulwer in his study of body modification, ‘Anthropometamorphosis: Man Transform’d, or the Artificial Changeling,’ wrote of the loss in sexual pleasure resulting from circumcision: ‘the part which hangeth over the end of the foreskin, is moved up and down in coition, that in this attrition it might gather more heat, and increase the pleasure of the other sexe; a contentation of which they [the circumcised] are defrauded by this injurious invention. For, the shortnesse of the prepuce is reckoned among the organical defects of the yard, … yet circumcision detracts somewhat from the delight of women, by lessening their titillation.’

circumcision

According to Darby, it was also seen as a serious loss of erogenous tissue: ‘During the Renaissance and 18th century the centrality of the foreskin to male sexual function and the pleasure of both partners was recognized by anatomists Berengario da…

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Courts, TRAI, Relief In Nepal

Now our justice delivery system (in India) is occasionally brilliant, inspiring public trust, but are infamous for its fabled corruption and endless delays. But this takes the cake : the Chief Justice of our Supreme Court — the constitutional head, I may add, of one of the three verticals envisaged in our Republican bible to keep each other in check — has refused to participate in the newly formed National Judicial Appointment Commission, at least untill its constitutional validity was upheld by the Supreme Court. The other two members of the Commission are the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition in Parliament. The Govt has argued before a 5-judge bench of the same Supreme Court that the CJI is mandated ex-officio by the recently passed constitutional amendment to participate in the meeting to select other eminent members of the Commission. It has sought a direction from the Court to the CJI … so that he does his job and duly participate in the Commission’s deliberations.

The CJI’s intransigence is more than understandable : the amended provision in law has democratised the process of appointing judges to most exalted positions in superior courts. It is no longer the preserve of an in-house “collegium” that was elitist, Platonic may I say, at best. At worst, it was a den of the corrupt that allowed a former CJI to avail of sponsored jaunts abroad, another to pass patently motivated judgements that were rescinded/ modified soon enough, and even encouraged a prominent lawyer to assure a lady colleague of lucrative judicial appointment in lieu of steamy sexual favours right in the exclusive “Lawyer Chambers” in the Court premises !

The rot is deep and widespread, and it shows in the fabled inefficiency and partisan quality of judgements the system delivers to its citizens. It delays, and delays, when the rich or the famous are respondents to common plaintiffs. And it massively overlooks procured investigative lapses, even misjudging matters if nothing avails to satisfy paying litigants in the fray. It is occasionally brilliant, as pointed out, but that only serves to perpetually postpone much-needed administrative changes under the projected garb of “all’s well.” When it is hugely not.

That was why the National Judicial Standards And Accountability Bill was mooted almost a decade ago, to stem the capacity of our judicial system to deliver raw deals at will. Judicial appointments are a big part of the problem, to address which the Appointment Commision has been set up. An upright CJI would be expected to further the aims of the proposed Judicial Standards and the anti-corruption cause against a riven system.

So, why should the current CJI be working against the lofty aims and goals ?

Is it a refusal to admit flaws and a collective guilt ?

Or, is it a more concerted effort to perpetuate the lucrative system of built-in inefficiencies and multiple wheeling-dealing avenues the lordships practice with supreme hypocrisy ?

* * *

I’ve known of (Dr) Rahul Khullar even before his 3-year appointment in 2013 as TRAI chief. He was a former Commerce Dept secretary and Income Tax Commissioner, and especially favoured by the UPA regime through its decade long federal administration that humiliatingly ended in May ’14. Among others matters of bureaucratic dishonour and governance disrepute he contributed to, Dr Khullar is associated with the recent 2G – spectrum scam, which was an alround conspiracy of politician-bizmen-bureaucrat clique to deprive the national treasury of over Rs 10,000 billion ! We all remember the Kapil-Zero-Sibal statement, the Raja-Maran-Kanunidhi involvement, the summoning of that dumb turbaned former Prime Minister to testify before a court of law investigating the matter, and the motivated targeting of the former CAG — who stood up and firm by his scathing criticism of the spectrum allocation process then followed.

Dr Rahul Khullar came to be a part of that sleazy environment, more on account of his seeming omissions to be true. But that wasn’t all. He very recently had gone along pretty well with statements sympathetic of telecom behemoths ( didn’t Sunil Mittal of Airtel move a 75 crore per month remuneration proposal for himself in company Board meeting ? ), while doing nothing to improve delivered services and assure the public. How many complaints to TRAI has he answered and acted upon ?

I continue to read the plight of subscribers on social media. Nothing good is expected through his term, a year of which remains. The current NDA govt has very ambitious plans for countrymen. The biz-babu-neta nexus is subdued but lurk in the shadows. Telecom is expected to change rapidly along people-centric lines from May 2016.

* * *

I have nothing to add to what you already know of the earthquake disaster in Nepal and, to lesser extent, in India and Tibet. Oh, yes, it isn’t China to me and will never be.

The only thing I do wish to mention is donations for relief : contribute to the Prime Minister’s Relief Fund that is seized with delivering relief to the affected people. Shun the others, especially the ones set up by media houses in India and sundry NGOs. The Govt of India and the RSS (Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh) and its associated organisations are at the forefront and deeply involved, without any quid pro quo motives whatsoever.

_______________

There is this mini series “Against The Wind” … a fictionalised documentary I see as important to popular history of British occupation of Ireland, declared a ‘disturbed county’ and ruthlessly taken over in 1890s, and development of New South Wales through its years as a penal settlement colony. I’ve been gripped… You may check out for yourself.

#India : On Global Stage Now

For far too long, the world has been led by greedy colonialism and dreamy communism.
They’ve led to all the wars we have ever had in our post medieval history.
And their neo-forms remain at work to this day.

India, and all countries at the receiving end heretofore, offers a way out : fostering genuine respect for all nations big and small, all people rich and poor.

It has the unique qualification, among others, of witnessing millennia of unbroken history and it mammoth happennings in thought and action, most of which originating from its own bosom, some of which it has caused to trigger, and consequences of the rest it has absorbed.

India is aware of all the past in the present; and it knows the way to our viable future.
Beyond greed, without the dreams.

There’s a cosmic reality India is in touch with.
It lives upon and by it, when it is not overtaken by imported primitive greed and alien delinquent dreams, as it prevails amongst younger nations elsewhere !

India is awake.

Generation And Management

There’s something diabolical about life : you need to be young to infuse energy into the world about us but be old enough to have the learning necessary to manage it with minimum error. A human generation lasts about 20 years; for an optimistic life span of 100 years, there would be five generations at most living in a community. Actually, in practice, there would be just three, who would not have already signed off active life and social concerns. It would mean a combined experience of 120 max years under the same roof, not all of which may be wise and at peace enough to create our future !

Animals and plants do not this problem : nature codifies their learning that allows both sameness and adaptability. Trees do not move and are incapable of causing chaos; the most powerful of animals have no thought of future, let alone live the unquiet anxiety it introduces in the present. That is, until humans began to cast abroad their own…

We used to have books and traditions to set ourselves to desired ways of life. Then, we came to have laws. But books are read for entertainment today; traditions have faded and laws leave the deviants chuckling. Religions served as repositories of knowledge and wisdom, once upon a time. But they no longer seem so; not to our awesome power to choose, deem and declare.

What would reign in our power to choose and guide it along ways that lead to the better ?

There is a surfeit of information and entertainment, much aided by the web.

But knowledge ? There isn’t enough of that within and about us, I dare say.

Holi … Emblematic Of The Indian Way

image

image

Celebrating …

Travelling the World Should be Everyone’s Life Goal

vam:

The blogpost here is only representative of what I want to introduce to you. You could go through every one of the posts on the blog and find yourself smiling, better informed and pretty much impressed.

Originally posted on Forbidden Jungle:

I wrote that title as if I’m some sort of hardened veteran nomad that’s sailed the seven sea’s and conquered the Great Wall of China, but as a matter of fact, I’ve not even been able to set foot out of my own home country. But, my main goal in life does consist of traveling the globe and I genuinely believe that there isn’t a thing that can stop me from turning this familiar dream into a rare reality. My hunger for world exploration is not solely driven by the unimaginable sights and once in a lifetime experiences though, but by the idea that scouring across every continent is something required to be done in my life before I die, purely for the sake of doing so. To put it crudely, life is short – literally just a miniscule blip in the perpetual timeline of the gargantuan Universe. Give or take, the…

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An Open Letter To Indian Prime Minister

Dear Mr Prime Minister,
First let me tell you that many a times, I felt that some Divine Force was inspiring you – the way Sri Aurobindo said that Churchill was guided by Him to fight the Nazis…

But then, I have to say, as someone who travels extensively in India & has spent a lot of time in Delhi for the last 40 years (I have interviewed 7 Indian PM’s), that nothing much has changed. Your ministers are still as unreachable as the Congress ones, functioning in the same system with four layers of secretaries. Even if you have an important work – there is no way you can meet one of your ministers unless you have some pull. Your MP’s, as the Congress ones before them, once they come to Delhi, with their cars, bungalows, countless aides, and so many sycophants coming for favours, quickly lose sight of why they were elected. You need to send them BACK to their constituencies the way Mao Tse Tung sent back all his cadres to the countryside. Delhi is a microcosm of India and you seem to have lost there some of the Hindu electorate who voted for you UNITEDLY, from the Dalit to the businessmen. Some of us had seen this coming for a few months already.

You need to have around you people who will tell you what the mood of the people is – without ANY FEAR – for I have seen, even with gurus, that their followers always want to please them, flatter them and thus shield them from the truth. It is something inherent to the Hindu psyche. If this had been done, maybe we could have told you that the middle class and lower class Hindus who voted for you, want a change at the grass root level. They are not concerned about Obama and nuclear energy, or the way you are skillfully loosening the Chinese encircling grip, or the remarkable unifying of intelligence and their agencies you are doing with Mr Doval, but about the daily problems and the constant bribes that are asked by petty bureaucrats and policemen. I myself experience this in Maharashtra as I am asked bribes for getting permissions for a Museum, which is free, dedicated to Shivaji Maharaj and a sewa project !

Also they do not understand why you were so fiery and outspoken while campaigning – and now that you are elected, you do not seem any more to be promoting their Hindu causes. They cannot fathom, for instance in their simple minds, why you are being so friendly to Sonia Gandhi, who wanted you in prison or even dead – and why you are keeping away from those who supported you in your darkest hours, when nobody thought that you would become PM. These old friends of yours are still keeping quiet, out of respect for your work, but I know many who are bitter.

The common Hindu man does not comprehend either why no one in your Government stands by reconversions of Christians or Muslims to Hinduism. During the last Tsunami, at least 10% of the Tamil Nadu fishermen were converted by Christian missionaries, using financial baits, such as free boats. I was there and SAW it. Or why when one of yours says that Hindus must produce more children, he is booed down. We know that Muslims produce seven to eight children per couple and in some areas of India they are now in majority and will NOT vote for you. It is true that there have been vandalizing of churches in Delhi, whether intentional, or just by some common thieves. But this is an old trick of Indian Christians to evoke sympathy from Obama and C° and bring pressure & discredit upon you. You should know better than that: Christians have been the aggressors in this country & the Pope still thinks that India is a fair target for mass conversions.

We understand that you must be the Prime Minister of all Indians and that you have to rise above sectarism, but there has to be in the public a perception that you are the PRIME MINISTER OF HINDUS BECAUSE IT IS THEY WHO VOTED FOR YOU – not the Muslims – whatever Ram Madhav told you before the Kashmir elections, which is going to be another thorn in your heel (and if you do not remove article 370 soon, most Hindus will lose faith in your government). To cultivate the Muslims, thinking that they will like you in the end, as Mr Vajpayee did, under the influence of the nice but misguided Suddeendhra Kulkarni, is not only a waste of time, but also may ALIENATE YOU HINDU VOTERS, whom you are going to need in four years again and at different state elections.

Let the Muslims of India know that they possess the same rights as any Hindus, Sikhs or Christians, which they actually have, including total freedom of worship, that Hindus have neither in Bangladesh, Pakistan or Saudi Arabia, but do not go out of your way to please them. When the common man of Delhi sees that you received Aamir Khan, whose film PK is a deliberate insult to all Hindu gurus & Hindus, they think something is not right. Also they do not understand why so many Hindu gurus and activists such as sadhvi Pragya and Colonel Purohit, whose innocence has been proved, are still languishing in jail. Congress had no qualms in favouring their people and flouting all decent rules. This isn’t about ethics, but if your aim is just, dharmic, and I believe it is, it does not matter what means are used.

The Congress got elected and elected again with mostly the Muslims votes, till Kejriwal came, You need to CULTIVATE THE HINDU ELECTORATE Sir, by making gestures, even if you let your people do them and stand back. And that has to be done QUICKLY. If they are convinced that you are working for them, you will have the two or even three terms you need to achieve a real Renaissance of India. Democracy is a beautiful but skewed system, easy to hijack by adharmic forces. To realise all the great things you have undertaken, YOU NEED A UNIFIED HINDU VOTE.

The trap now is to listen to the Media which says that your party lost in Delhi because of ‘communal’ reasons – vandalizing of churches, statements by your people about reconversions, or your so-called ten lakh suit. This will prod you and your government to go more secular, let go of more of the pledges you made for the Hindu cause during your campaign, the same way the Vajpayee Government veered away gradually from its Hindu ideals – and lost the elections to Sonia Gandhi.

But think of it like that : you got elected in May last year with a massive mandate BECAUSE of your dedicated, sincere and fiery HINDU promises. There is no reason why it should not work the same way now that you have the power. You need to stick by what your pledged Sir – whatever the Media, Obama, your bureaucrats or the Foreign Press says…

Namaste/ Francois Gautier.

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The First Britsh Slave Ship To Reach The Americas Was Called The Good Jesus!

$The First Britsh Slave Ship To Reach The Americas Was Called The Good Jesus!.

Song For My Father

vam:

It’s a song we each already have …
This is to make you strum it up, now.

Originally posted on THE BIG HOUSE and other stories:

Unknown-3

First I heard Stan playing ‘one note’ with samba beat

in conjunction with machiado and whip cream

a chorus of shopping  murmurs

hello names … espresso pastries

jive talk and solitary people

seeking dreams within

themselves …

…..

when Diz joined in

i heard those afro cuban rhythms and

lost notes

grown along the tree rings

of his later

career …

…..

so sad to hear those mighty

bellows gone

slack …

…..

then came Horace’s

silver notes

those repeating overtones simple and

 sweet …

you’d think a  child could make them until

you find yourself floating through space

in singularity with his

time …

…..

how grand to hear such musical thought

pay tribute to one so dear …

his

Song To My Father” …

… ”if there was ever a man who was generous, gracious and good  …

it was my dad ….. 

the man ….. ‘’

…..

Ahhhhhhhh …..

…..

i wish i’d have felt that sweet

love …

our common denominator

in that relationship with Life …

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Jhansi – Dec 14, 1835 : A Testimony

It’s a window into those times about 200 years ago, generations before Rani Laxmibai entered the royal house of Jansi. Captain Sleeman, discharging magisterial duties, traveled to Jhansi and met the “Chiefs of Jhānsī” in the matter regarding succession dispute that then prevailed. As it obtains from his testimony, the State was blighted since the times of Raghunath Rao I at the turn of century before. The British Indian official records in his memoirs :

RAMBLES AND RECOLLECTIONS OF AN INDIAN OFFICIAL
On the 14th Dec 1835, we came on fourteen miles to Jhānsī. About five miles from our last ground, we crossed the Baitantī river over a bed of syenite. At this river we mounted our elephant to cross, as the water was waist-deep at the ford. My wife returned to her palankeen as soon as we had crossed, but our little boy came on with me on the elephant, to meet the grand procession which I knew was approaching to greet us from the city. The Rājā of Jhānsī, Rām Chandar Rāo, died a few months ago, leaving a young widow and a mother, but no child.

He was a young man of about twenty-eight years of age, timid, but of good capacity, and most amiable disposition. My duties brought us much into communication; and, though we never met, we had conceived a mutual esteem for each other. He had been long suffering from an affection of the liver, and had latterly persuaded himself that his mother was practising upon his life, with a view to secure the government to the eldest son of her daughter, which would, she thought, ensure the real power to her for life. That she wished him dead with this view, I had no doubt; for she had ruled the state for several years up to 1831, during what she was pleased to consider his minority; and she surrendered the power into his hands with great reluctance, since it enabled her to employ her paramour as minister, and enjoy his society as much as she pleased, under the pretence of holding privy councils upon affairs of great public interest.

He – the dead Raja – used to communicate his fears to me; and I was not without apprehension that his mother might some day attempt to hasten his death by poison. About a month before his death he wrote to me to say that spears had been found stuck in the ground, under the water where he was accustomed to swim, with their sharp points upwards; and, had he not, contrary to his usual practice, walked into the water, and struck his foot against one of them, he must have been killed. This was, no doubt, a thing got up by some designing person who wanted to ingratiate himself with the young man; for the mother was too shrewd a woman ever to attempt her son’s life by such awkward means. About four months before I reached the capital, this amiable young prince died, leaving two paternal uncles, a mother, a widow, and one sister, the wife of one of our Sāgar pensioners, Morīsar Rāo.

The mother claimed the inheritance for her grandson by this daughter, a very handsome young lad, then at Jhānsī, on the pretence that her son had adopted him on his death-bed. She had his head shaved, and made him go through all the other ceremonies of mourning, as for the death of his real father. The eldest of his uncles, Raghunāth Rāo (II), claimed the inheritance as the next heir; and all his party turned the young lad out of caste as a Brahman, for daring to go into mourning for a father who was yet alive; one of the greatest of crimes, according to Hindoo law, for they would not admit that he had been adopted by the deceased prince.

The question of inheritance had been referred for decision to the Supreme Government through the prescribed channel when I arrived, and the decision was every day expected. The mother, with her daughter and grandson, and the widow, occupied the castle, situated on a high hill overlooking the city; while the two uncles of the deceased occupied their private dwellings in the city below. Raghunāth Rāo, the eldest, headed the procession that came out to meet me about three miles, mounted upon a fine female elephant, with his younger brother by his side. The minister, Nārū Gopāl, followed, mounted upon another, on the part of the mother and widow. Some of the Rājā’s relations were upon two of the finest male elephants I have ever seen; and some of their friends, with the ‘Bakshī’, or paymaster (always an important personage), upon two others.

Raghunāth Rāo’s elephant drew up on the right of mine, and that of the minister on the left; and, after the usual compliments had passed between us, all the others fell back, and formed a line in our rear. They had about fifty troopers mounted upon very fine horses in excellent condition, which curvetted before and on both sides of us; together with a good many men on camels, and some four or five hundred foot attendants, all well dressed, but in various costumes. The elephants were so close to each other that the conversation, which we managed to keep up tolerably well, was general almost all the way to our tents; every man taking a part as he found the opportunity of a pause to introduce his little compliment to the Honourable Company or to myself, which I did my best to answer or divert. I was glad to see the affectionate respect with which the old man (Raghunath Rao) was everywhere received, for I had in my own mind no doubt whatever that the decision of the Supreme Government would be in his favour. The whole cortège escorted me through the town to my tent, which was pitched on the other side; and then they took their leave, still seated on their elephants, while I sat on mine, with my boy on my knee, till all had made their bow and departed.

*

In the afternoon, when my second large tent had been pitched, the minister came to pay me a visit with a large train of followers, but with little display; and I found him a very sensible, mild, and gentlemanly man, just as I expected from the high character he bears with both parties, and with the people of the country generally. Any unreserved conversation here in such a crowd was, of course, out of the question, and I told the minister that it was my intention early next morning to visit the tomb of his late master; where I should be very glad to meet him, if he could make it convenient to come without any ceremony. He seemed much pleased with the proposal, and next morning we met a little before sunrise within the railing that encloses the tomb or cenotaph; and there had a good deal of quiet and, I believe, unreserved talk about the affairs of the Jhānsī state, and the family of the late prince. He told me that, a few hours before the Rājā’s death, his mother had placed in his arms for adoption the son of his sister, a very handsome lad of ten years of age—but whether the Rājā was or was not sensible at the time he could not say, for he never after heard him speak; that the mother of the deceased considered the adoption as complete, and made her grandson go through the funeral ceremonies as at the death of his father, which for nine days were performed unmolested; but, when it came to the tenth and last—which, had it passed quietly, would have been considered as completing the title of adoption—Raghunāth Rāo and his friends interposed, and prevented further proceedings, declaring that, while there were so many male heirs, no son could be adopted for the deceased prince according to the usages of the family.

The widow of the Rājā, a timid, amiable young woman, of twenty-five years of age, was by no means anxious for this adoption, having shared the suspicions of her husband regarding the practices of his mother; and found his sister, who now resided with them in the castle, a most violent and overbearing woman, who would be likely to exclude her from all share in the administration, and make her life very miserable, were her son to be declared the Rājā. Her wish was to be allowed to adopt, in the name of her deceased husband, a young cousin of his, Sadāsheo, the son of Nānā Bhāo. Gangādhar, the younger brother of Raghunāth Rāo, was exceedingly anxious to have his elder brother declared Rājā, because he had no sons, and from the debilitated state of his frame, must soon die, and leave the principality to him. Every one of the three parties had sent agents to the Governor-General’s representative in Bundēlkhand to urge their claim; and, till the final decision, the widow of the late chief was to be considered the sovereign.

The minister told me that there was one unanswerable argument against Raghunāth Rāo’s succeeding, which, out of regard to his feelings, he had not yet urged, and about which he wished to consult me as a friend of the late prince and his widow; this was, that he was a leper, and that the signs of the disease were becoming every day more and more manifest. I told him that I had observed them in his face, but was not aware that any one else had noticed them. I urged him, however, not to advance this as a ground of exclusion, since they all knew him to be a very worthy man, while his younger brother was said to be the reverse; and more especially I thought it would be very cruel and unwise to distress and exasperate him by so doing, as I had no doubt that, before this ground could be brought to their notice, Government would declare in his favour, right being so clearly on his side.

After an agreeable conversation with this sensible and excellent man, I returned to my tents to prepare for the reception of Raghunāth Rāo and his party. They came about nine o’clock with a much greater display of elephants and followers than the minister had brought with him. He and his friends kept me in close conversation till eleven o’clock, in spite of my wife’s many considerate messages to say breakfast was waiting. He told me that the mother of the late Rājā, his nephew, was a very violent woman, who had involved the state in much trouble during the period of her regency, which she managed to prolong till her son was twenty-five years of age, and resigned with infinite reluctance only three years ago; that her minister during her regency, Gangadhar Mūlī, was at the same time her paramour, and would be surely restored to power and to her embraces, were her grandson’s claim to the succession recognized; that it was with great difficulty he had been able to keep this atrocious character under surveillance pending the consideration of their claims by the Supreme Government; that, by having the head of her grandson shaved, and making him go through all the other funeral ceremonies with the other members of the family, she had involved him and his young innocent wife (who had unhappily continued to drink out of the same cup with her husband) in the dreadful crime of mourning for a father whom they knew to be yet alive, a crime that must be expiated by the ‘prāyaschit,’ which would be exacted from the young couple on their return to Sāgar before they could be restored to caste, from which they were now considered as excommunicated. As for the young widow, she was everything they could wish; but she was so timid that she would be governed by the old lady, if she should have any ostensible part assigned her in the administration.

I told the old gentleman that I believed it would be my duty to pay the first visit to the widow and mother of the late prince, as one of pure condolence, and that I hoped my doing so would not be considered any mark of disrespect towards him, who must now be looked up to as the head of the family. He remonstrated against this most earnestly; and, at last, tears came into his eyes as he told me that, if I paid the first visit to the castle, he should never again be able to show his face outside his door, so great would be the indignity he would be considered to have suffered; but, rather than I should do this, he would come to my tents, and escort me himself to the castle. Much was to be said on both sides of the weighty question; but, at last, I thought that the arguments were in his favour—that, if I went to the castle first, he might possibly resent it upon the poor woman and the prime minister when he came into power, as I had no doubt he soon would—and that I might be consulting their interest as much as his feelings by going to his house first.

In the evening I received a message from the old lady, urging the necessity of my paying the first visit of condolence for the death of my young friend to the widow and mother. ‘The rights of mothers’, said she, ‘are respected in all countries; and, in India, the first visit of condolence for the death of a man is always due to the mother, if alive.’ I told the messenger that my resolution was unaltered, and would, I trusted, be found the best for all parties under present circumstances. I told him that I dreaded the resentment towards them of Raghunāth Rāo, if he came into power. ‘Never mind that,’ said he: ‘my mistress is of too proud a spirit to dread resentment from any one—pay her the compliment of the first visit, and let her enemies do their worst.’ I told him that I could leave Jhānsī without visiting either of them, but could not go first to the castle; and he said that my departing thus would please the old lady better than the second visit.

With the best cortège I could muster, I went to Raghunāth Rāo’s, where I was received with a salute from some large guns in his courtyard, and entertained with a party of dancing girls and musicians in the usual manner. Attar of roses and ‘pān’ were given, and valuable shawls put before me, and refused in the politest terms I could think of; such as, ‘Pray do me the favour to keep these things for me till I have the happiness of visiting Jhānsī again, as I am going through Gwālior, where nothing valuable is a moment safe from thieves’. After sitting an hour, I mounted my elephant, and proceeded up to the castle, where I was received with another salute from the bastions. I sat for half an hour in the hall of audience with the minister and all the principal men of the court, as Raghunāth Rāo was to be considered as a private gentleman till the decision of the Supreme Government should be made known; and the handsome lad, Krishan Rāo, whom the old woman wished to adopt, and whom I had often seen at Sāgar, was at my request brought in and seated by my side. By him I sent my message of condolence to the widow and mother of his deceased uncle, couched in the usual terms—that the happy effects of good government in the prosperity of this city, and the comfort and happiness of the people, had extended the fame of the family all over India; and that I trusted the reigning member of that family, whoever he might be, would be sensible that it was his duty to sustain that reputation by imitating the example of those who had gone before him. After attar of roses and pān had been handed round in the usual manner, I went to the summit of the highest tower in the castle, which commands an extensive view of the country around.

*

The castle stands upon the summit of a small hill of syenitic rock. The elevation of the outer wall is about one hundred feet above the level of the plain, and the top of the tower on which I stood about one hundred feet more, as the buildings rise gradually from the sides to the summit of the hill. The city extends out into the plain to the east from the foot of the hill on which the castle stands. Around the city there is a good deal of land, irrigated from four or five tanks in the neighbourhood, and now under rich wheat crops; and the gardens are very numerous, and abound in all the fruit and vegetables that the people most like. Oranges are very abundant and very fine, and our tents have been actually buried in them and all the other fruits and vegetables which the kind people of Jhānsī have poured in upon us. The city of Jhānsī contains about sixty thousand inhabitants, and is celebrated for its manufacture of carpets. There are some very beautiful temples in the city, all built by Gosāins, one of the priests of Siva who here engage in trade, and accumulate much wealth. The family of the chief do not build tombs; and that now raised over the place where the late prince was buried is dedicated as a temple to Siva, and was made merely with a view to secure the place from all danger of profanation.

The face of the country beyond the influence of the tanks is neither rich nor interesting. The cultivation seemed scanty and the population thin, owing to the irremediable sterility of soil, from the poverty of the primitive rock from whose detritus it is chiefly formed. Raghunāth Rāo told me that the wish of the people in the castle to adopt a child as the successor to his nephew arose from the desire to escape the scrutiny into the past accounts of disbursements which he might be likely to order. I told him that I had myself no doubt that he would be declared the Rājā, and urged him to turn all his thoughts to the future, and to allow no inquiries to be made into the past, with a view to gratify either his own resentment, or that of others; that the Rajas of Jhānsī had hitherto been served by the most respectable, able, and honourable men in the country, while the other chiefs of Bundēlkhand could get no man of this class to do their work for them.

Jhansi’s was the only court in Bundēlkhand in which such (competent) men could be seen, simply because it was the only one in which they could feel themselves secure—while other chiefs confiscated the property of ministers who had served them with fidelity, on the pretence of embezzlement; the wealth thus acquired, however, soon disappearing, and its possessors being obliged either to conceal it or go out of the country to enjoy it. Such rulers thus found their courts and capitals deprived of all those men of wealth and respectability who adorned the courts of princes in other countries, and embellished, not merely their capitals, but the face of their dominions in general with their chateaus and other works of ornament and utility. Much more of this sort passed between us, and seemed to make an impression upon him; for he promised to do all that I had recommended to him. Poor man! he can have but a short and miserable existence, for that dreadful disease, the leprosy, is making sad inroads in his System already. His uncle, Raghunāth Rāo (I), was afflicted with it; and, having understood from the priests that by drowning himself in the Ganges (taking the ‘samādh’), he should remove all traces of it from his family, he went to Benares, and there drowned himself, some twenty years ago. He had no children, and is said to have been the first of his family in whom the disease showed itself.

Notes

Since the opening of this railway and the restoration of the Gwālior fort to Sindhia in 1886, the importance of Jhānsī, both civil and military, has much increased. The native town was given up by Sindhia in exchange for the Gwālior stronghold.

The departed chief was Rājā Rāo Rāmchand. He died on August 20, 1835. His administration had been weak, and his finances were left in great disorder. Under his successor the disorder of the administration became still greater.

An adopted son passes completely out of the family of his natural, into that of his adoptive, father, all his rights and duties as a son being at the same time transferred. In this case, the adoption had not really taken place, and the lad’s duty to his living natural father remained unaffected.

The ‘prāyaschit’ is an expiating atonement by which the person humbles himself in public. It is often imposed for crimes committed in a former birth, as indicated by inflictions suffered in this. Leprosy and childlessness are among the afflictions supposed to prove the sinfulness of the sufferer in some former birth, perhaps thousands of years ago.

The poor young widow died of grief some months after my visit; her spirits never rallied after the death of her husband, and she never ceased to regret that she had not burned herself with his remains. The people of Jhānsī generally believe that the prince’s mother brought about his death by (dīnāī) slow poison, and I am afraid that that was the impression on the mind of the poor widow.

Considering the fact that, ’till the final decision, the widow of the late chief was to be considered the sovereign’, it would be difficult to justify the author’s decision to call upon the ‘uncle’ first. The reigning sovereign was clearly entitled to the first visit. Questions of precedence, salutes, and etiquette are as the very breath of their nostrils to the Indian nobility.

The estimate of the population was probably excessive. The population in 1891, including the cantonments, was 53,779, and 70,208 in 1911. The fort of Gwālior and the cantonment of Morār were surrendered by the Government of India to Sindhia in exchange for the fort and town of Jhānsī on March 10, 1886. Sindhia also relinquished fifty-eight villages in exchange for thirty given up by the Government of India, the difference in value being adjusted by cash payments. The arrangements were finally sanctioned by Lord Dufferin on June 13, 1888.

The custom of burial is not peculiar to the Saiva Gosāins of Jhānsī. It is the ordinary practice of Gosāins throughout India. Many of the Gosāins are devoted to the worship of Vishnu. Burial of the dead is practised by a considerable number of the Hindoo castes of the artisan grade, and by some divisions of the sweeper caste. See Crooke, ‘Primitive Rites of Disposal of the Dead’ (J. Anthrop. Institute, vol. xxix, N.S., vol. ii (1900), pp. 271-92).

This chief, Raghunath Rao II, died of leprosy in May, 1838.

Raghunāth Rāo I was the first of his family invested by the Peshwā with the government of the Jhānsī territory, which he had acquired from the Bundēlkhand chiefs. He went to Benares in 1795 to drown himself, leaving his government to his third brother, Sheorām Bhāo, as his next brother, Lachchhman Rāo, was dead, and his sons were considered incapable. Sheorām Bhāo died in 1815, and his eldest son, Krishan Rāo, had died four years before him, in 1811, leaving one son, the late Rājā, and two daughters. This was a noble sacrifice to what he had been taught by his spiritual teachers to consider as a duty towards his family; and we must admire the man while we condemn the religion and the priests.

There is no country in the world where parents are more reverenced than in India, or where they more readily make sacrifices of all sorts for their children, or for those they consider as such. We succeeded in [June] 1817 to all the rights of the Peshwā in Bundēlkhand, and, with great generosity, converted the viceroys of Jhānsī and Jālaun into independent sovereigns of hereditary principalities, yielding each ten lakhs of rupees. The statement in the note that Raghunāth Rāo I ‘went to Benares in 1795 to drown himself’ is inconsistent with the statement in the text that this event happened ‘some twenty years ago’. The word ‘twenty’ is evidently a mistake for ‘forty’.

The N. W. P. Gazetteer, 1st ed., names several persons who governed Jhānsī on behalf of the Peshwā between 1742 and 1770, in which latter year Raghunāth Rāo I received charge. According to the same authority, Sheo (Shio) Rām Bhāo is called ‘Sheo Bhāo Hari, better known as Sheo Rāo Bhāo’, and is said to have succeeded Raghunāth Rāo I in 1794, and to have died in 1814, not 1816.

A few words may here be added to complete the history. The leper Raghunāth Rāo II, whose claim the author strangely favoured, was declared Rājā, and died, as already noted, in May, 1838, ‘his brief period of rule being rendered unquiet by the opposition made to him, professedly on the ground of his being a leper’. His revenues fell from twelve lākhs (£120,000) to three lākhs of rupees (£30,000) a year.

On his death in 1838, the succession was again contested by four claimants. Pending inquiry into the merits of their claims, the Governor-General’s Agent assumed the administration. Ultimately, Gangādhar Rāo, younger brother of the leper, was appointed Rājā. The disorder in the state rendered administration by British officers necessary as a temporary measure, and Gangādhar Rāo did not obtain power until 1842.

His rule was, on the whole, good. He died childless in November, 1853, and Lord Dalhousie, applying the doctrine of lapse, annexed the estate in 1854, granting a pension of five thousand rupees, or about five hundred pounds, monthly to Lacchhmī Bāī, Gangādhar Rāo’s widow, who also succeeded to personal property worth about one hundred thousand pounds. She resented the refusal of permission to adopt a son, and the consequent annexation of the state, and was further deeply offended by several acts of the English Administration, above all by the permission of cow-slaughter. Accordingly, when the Mutiny broke out, she quickly joined the rebels.

On the 7th and 8th June, 1857, all the Europeans in Jhānsī, men, women, and children, to the number of about seventy persons, were cruelly murdered by her orders, or with her sanction. On the 9th June her authority was proclaimed. In the prolonged fighting which ensued, she placed herself at the head of her troops, whom she led with great gallantry. In June, 1858, after a year’s bloodstained reign, she was killed in battle.

By November, 1858, the country was pacified.

Why Does Minimalism Win/Suffice? (in the arts, advertsing, fashion, life….)

vam:

Love you, Kamala… muaah !
Minimalisn is not laziness. It is an umbrella value that welcomes simplicity, cuts out the clutter, and allows love for people and things to grow on our acceptance of little facts and small themes respective to each.

Originally posted on Kamala Thompson:

Minimalism can refer to a few things. In the arts, minimalism was a trend that started in the 1950s. Paintings, sculptures, other visual arts and music would utilize the repetition of very short phrases, rhythms, and patterns. Today, minimalism has become a lifestyle philosophy centered around removal of everything that distracts us and only having things in our life that are necessary or have true value. Within this philosophy there are interconnected themes of living in the moment, emotional health, passion and mission, taking action, contribution, and change and experimentation. It makes sense that with the rise of all our technological advancements that there would be a rise in this philosophy. Scientific research has even proven that technological over-stimulation has actually desensitized people and caused them to become bored with their own lives. The result of having too many options and having too many decision to make can actually diminish…

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Flower Seller – A Painting

Playing One Helluva Night Gig

It’s a bar in a tony country club in the western suburbs.

Genteel white folk are sitting at neat white tables, sipping their cabernets or whatever, and display a very mild curiosity about a bunch of guys wheeling in sound gear. The band is pointed to a corner with approximately 10 square feet of open space.

Scott and I stand there and scratch our heads, going – how are we going to fit our gear in and find standing room to play ? We quickly figure it out. As we get ready to launch our first set, I see we’re 3 feet away from the nearest table, and Todd is a bit nervous about whether we might blow off their faces with our usual blues-rock attack. So he pulls out the acoustic and we start with something… a bit mellow.

We go through a couple of songs, get mercy applause ( or so I think) from a big group at the back end of the bar, and all of a sudden the bar is filling up. We find ourselves cranking up the volume so we can hear ourselves and be heard. The crowd gets thicker, voices get louder, the guitars are screaming by the time we’re 30 minutes into the first set. We’re going through our usual stuff – the Allman Brothers, Stevie Ray, Clapton, Skynyrd, The Stones,Van Halen.

The bar’s packed now with people, standing room only. Before we know it, the dancers have hit the floor : young and old bodies shaking, vast quantities of alcohol sloshing around inside. Scott yells to me – watch out for the mic stand ! And sure enough – bam ! An elderly guy has backed his butt into my mic knocking it over. A fleeting thought runs through my brain – where’s the goddam chicken wire when we need it ?

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Scott pushing the old guy away with one hand and continuing to play bass with his free hand. I’m trying to steady the mic stand while stomping on my pedals to get more wah and gain. The crowd is going crazy. They don’t want us to stop or take a pause between songs – more bodies are squeezing into a non-existent dance floor and Todd and I are running out of lung air. It’s all very Groucho Marx.

A woman sets up a table to one side and lines up a bunch of tequila shots for the band. Todd knocks back a couple and tosses a Heine to Josh at the back. Between wailing guitars and the raucous crowd, Josh can’t hear a single thing we’re singing or saying, yet he’s incredibly on time and is unleashing thunder with his drumkit. We’re in a re-run of Spinal Tap and Blues Brothers all at once.

The old guy in front pauses for a moment from his gyrations, thumps his chest, and bellows, Tarzan-like, yeah, that’s what I’m talking about ! I see him lean over and shout something in Scott’s ear. Scott tells me the guy wants us to play Elvis. Elvis Costello ? I ask. No, Elvis !! yells back Scott. The moment passes.

When we wrap up at midnight, the bar is still open, and there’s a couple of hundred people in there wanting more. The old guy, who I thought might keel over with a heart attack anytime during our performance, has miraculously made it alive till the end. It even seems like he’s got more juice in the batteries !

The bartender tells us he’s usually home in bed a good two hours earlier on Saturday nights, and this had never happened before at the club. He wants us back soon for another gig.

We’re done for the night though. I suspect they violated the fire department code for lawful occupancy levels last night at the bar. Time to leave before the cops show up.

*

Sandipan Deb introduces a song the incredibly multi-faceted Paddy Padmanabhan created in memory of the girl who was gang-raped and killed on December 16 two years ago : “… this song is not only about that one girl we lost. It’s universal — from ISIS to Boko Haram to Khap panchayats to all our other bestial ways.”

Do listen and share.

Sun, Terror And Value

There is a constant war both within and without us, The one within is physiological, mental or spiritual; the one out there, between people, is bloody. The latter may involve passion of the whoever first declares or strikes, as a cry for justice to redress a wrong terribly perceived. Equally, a war could be the result of cold calculation either in continuity with a history between feuding parties or with an eye on advantages or spoils the aggressor expects to win.

In all cases, those pushed to defending themselves have no choice when swords begin to fall and the guns start booming : the aggression must be fought against, peaceniks and political correctness be damned. Unless one is a coward to his community or a traitor to his nation. The Gandhian or Christian romance – “absoluteness” as the author of The Rebel terms – is not even relevant to the situation; and the much compromised Buddhist doctrine of non-violence is not means enough to counter the subjugation already upon us, while terror of the happening is still stuck in our throats.

Though applicable to the same contextual matrix, terror is felt by individuals, in their own distinctive ways, while war is business of communities or nations for or against aggression. The attackers could be charged up against an offensive presence to rail against, a long-term threat to be destroyed, or something valueable to rob and take away. The animal urge could easily deflate with the sense of consequences about to be unleashed. But beastial vitality is not concerned with moral and ethical choices, and is hence without the sense of responsibility for rushing headlong to death and destruction, terror and war.

*

On January fourteenth, the Makar Sankranti, the sun took a turn reversing from its drift towards the southern-most path it takes around the earth. That is, as it seems to us in the northern hemisphere. Those aware would quote science to correct us : that, it was all on account of motions of the earth. Which brings us to the cold fact : life is not lived in accord with science. The freshly baked loaf is not mere aggregate of fundamental particles; nor is its smell just neural something.

We, nurtured in South Asia, have not understood the Gregorian new year, except as a celebratory occasion when everyone joins in. There is no turn of seasonal ambience to merit the mark on the first day of January. The Sankranti does, bringing on warmer days, though nights are likely to remain cold and cool untill Holi, which this year will be observed on 6th of March. We would definitely pass into the summer… mild through April and severe in May and June before relief is felt with onset of monsoons in July. People in Indian subcontinent observe the New Year Day on Fourteenth April, the first day of the month of Baisakh.

For some reason in tradition, the business community observes closure of books and commencement of new financial year on Diwali, the Festival Of Lights, in November.

*

If there is one value to guide our judgement, it is this : do not act to lead you to something in our expectation. For then, in matters personal, one is almost always led by pre-formed desire : one we do not choose in the moment, in the full light of reason, justice or inspiration that presents.

As it is, however, collective values tend to be conservative, in continuity with learning accumulated over the past and mostly as a compromise among conflicting group interests. It feels good that we have come a long way, with individual rights to freedom and liberty firmly instated in modern societies.

We can now choose differently in matters relating to our person except, very sadly, in communities still under dictatorial regimes of governments that choose themselves or religions that will not relent on its hold over the heart and mind of man.

The Essence Of Vedas

vam:

Is your #God greater, you ask ? That doesn’t interest me.
What does : Is your God true ?
Only we each can judge that … for ourself !

Originally posted on Truth Within, Shines Without:

The Essence Of Vedas Jan 8 Post II

The Essence Of Vedas Jan 8 Post III

The Essence Of Vedas Jan 8 Post I

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The Essence Of Vedas

The Essence Of Vedas Jan 8 Post II

The Essence Of Vedas Jan 8 Post III

The Essence Of Vedas Jan 8 Post I

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