angels and demons, part 1

during my trek in the jungle, our tribal guide took us to a spot that local legends claimed was a rakshasa's fort. it was so indistinguishable from the surrounding forest that we'd have missed it if he hadn't pointed it out to us. the 'fort' was just some roughly strewn boulders and trees that vaguely resembled a circle of about 7-8 meters diameter.

he told us that the rakshasa had been a 'protector of the forest'. indeed.

(for the uninitiated, rakshasa is sanskrit for 'demon'. the word literally translates as 'eater of human flesh'.)

indian (or more broadly, HINDU) mythology is full of these gigantic, fearsome, forest-dwelling creatures who had a tendency to eat humans. there are vivid descriptions of these monsters with horns on their heads, large teeth protruding out of their mouths, wearing animal skin and decorated with ornaments made out of bones.

let's try to look at these 'demons' from the anthropologist's perspective: forest-dwelling tribals who lived in small communities and occassionally resorted to cannibalism when the need arose (they still do, in the remoter forests of the world where 'civilisation' hasn't reached yet).

the fearful appearance is easy to explain: survival in the wilderness calls for a tall, well-toned body that can chase animals, climb trees and is hardened to withstand the elements. clothes and ornaments the byproducts of whatever was left over after a good meal of animal/bird flesh.

magnify all these features with the fervid imagination of the 'lucky' villagers who 'got away from their clutches' ("he was at least 10 feet tall, i swear!"), and we have the whole story.

okay, enough of the scholarly thesis (which i'm sure has been done by worthier, more qualified people). this is where i get to the interesting part:

once upon a time, a tribal walked out of the jungle, got himself educated in the ways of the 'civilised' folk and soon rose to power because of his talents and natural flair for leadership. it helped that he had a body that would put a greek god to shame, and exuded the whiff of an alpha male that made him quite irresistible to the ladies.

"intolerable!" cried the aristocracy (read 'gods') and sent forth its true-blooded champions to show the upstart his 'right place'.

after innumerable humiliating defeats at the hands of the 'outsider', and as his powers grew to threaten their positions, the 'righteous ones' got together to 'liberate the innocents' and 'defend the honour' of their women from the 'evil demon'.

epic battle follows; 'villain' defeated; righteousness wins. the end.

sound familiar?

songs of innocence (part 1)

A shudder passes through his body, and she hugs him harder.

"Let's stop and take shelter somewhere, or you'll catch a cold."

"Hah! I've ridden in far heavier downpours than this. This is nothing."

False bravado, and he knows it. It's getting icy cold, and they've been riding too long in the rain. His hands are frozen and the shivering becomes uncontrollable until he can no longer hide it.

"Please let's stop. Look, there's a tree. We can stand under that."

The worry in her voice makes him stop the bike. He parks it at the edge of the road, and they stand under the tree, drenched to the skin, dripping wet. The foliage above doesn't offer much protection, but it's better than being out in the cold rain.

"Here, let me warm you."

He laughs involuntarily, because it is he who usually says these words. They huddle together, rubbing each other's hands. But the wind is cruel, and chills him to the bone. The shivering gets worse.

"Come closer, my dupatta will protect you."

"This?" he says, looking incredulously at the thin piece of cloth made transparent by the rain water. He throws his head back and starts to laugh loudly, but stops almost immediately, noticing the hurt in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. But how do you expect to protect us with THIS?"

"It is said that if one loves a person enough, even the flimsiest garment can offer warmth."

The wind is freezing, the rain unrelenting and incessant. They stand there, water dripping over their heads from the leaves above, trickling down their wet clothes and merging into the mud under their feet.

But they are as cosy as a pair of pigeons in a warm nest.

a night in the jungle

"Charlie-One calling Base, Charlie-One calling Base, come in, over."

Krrrkle... Kssshhh... "Base to Charlie-One, what's your status? over."

"We have an emergency, Base, over."

Krrrkle... Kssshhh...

"Oh, just give me the damned gun and let's get this over with!"

"No, we should wait."

"You really think they're going to send somebody out here in the wilderness in the middle of the night?"

"But..."

"Don't be such a pussy. C'mon, give me the gun. I'll do it myself if you can't."

"But..."

"Alright, let me have the machete, then."

Whack! Thud! KRAK!

"Okay, the lock's broken. Let's get in before we freeze our @$$#$ off."

"Damn, if I knew you were such an expert burglar, I would've thought twice before showing you my house."

"Oh!"

"What? What?"

"Looks like somebody beat us to it."

"What? Who?"

"See that hole in the ground? Seal it, quickly!"

"What the hell did that?"

"Wild bandicoot."

"Whoa! Are they around?"

"Nope. They dig in here to see if there's any food when there's nobody around."

"$#!%! That's why you don't have anything here?"

"Yup. Gotta carry everything with you. Can't leave anything here."

"What about those holes? Can snakes get in here?"

"They generally avoid us humans. But hey, what do you expect in the middle of the jungle?"

"A mat would be nice. We can't sleep on the bare floor!"

"...or at least some sacks. You got some sacks we could spread out to lie on?"

"Nope."

"Hmm... okay, tell you what, you give us this... mat thingie you have there. That should do."

"Jeez, it's fulla holes! We can't sleep on that!"

"It's either this, or frozen butts in the morning. You wanna sleep or not?"

"I guess we have no choice, huh?"

"Look, you wanted adventure, you got adventure!"

"Okay, let's have a fire going. That should help... and tea! God, I'd kill for some hot tea now!"

"Here, I found some dry twigs."

Two minutes later:

"$#!%! Hack! Cough! Getouttatheway! This is killing me!"

"Hey, watch it! You're gonna bump into something in all this smoke!"

"Holy *&#%! My eyes are burning! Move! I gotta get outside!"

"Be careful! It's a jungle out there! Literally!"

"I'd rather face a herd of wild elephants than be in here!"

Later, much later in the night:

"Hey! Wake up, man!"

"Wh--what's wrong?"

"Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"I heard someone... or someTHING."

"Oh, c'mon! It's just the wind."

"No, I swear, I heard something!"

"Oh, Jeez! Give it a break. I told you, there are no ghosts."

"It sounded like somebody clearing their throat."

"In the middle of the jungle? At this time of the night? Even a ghost would freeze to death! Oh wait, ghosts ARE supposed to be dead... Look, go back to sleep. It's nothing. Probably just the wind slamming against the door."

"I can't sleep. I'm freezing."

"Yeah, if I'd known, I would've brought my sleeping bag, too. Thank goodness I brought at least this blanket. C'mon, we'll share."

Half an hour later:

"You know what?"

"Hell, you STILL awake?"

"So are you."

"Okay, you got me. What?"

"We're lucky at least there are no mosquitoes!"

(based on a true incident that happened last week)

"...gathers no moss"

personally, i'm not a big fan of moss (the human variety). after all, wasn't it she who started all this 'size zero' mess more than a decade ago? i'm referring, of course, to kate.

...but it's not her fault, either. it's the fashion gurus who projected hers as the 'desirable body type' that led to the tragedy of the 'malnourished-by-choice' trend that is prevalent among young girls even today. imagine the destruction of so many lives because of the 'artistic' whim of a few self-absorbed individuals!

er... i seem to have strayed from my topic. what was it about? ah, the proverb that seemingly praises migration over settling, movement over stasis.

if you look back at the cartoon, you'll notice that the rolling stone is 'smooth' (all the meanings you can infer from the word!), while the settled one is textured and mossy (it has acquired 'character').

the question was: what's wrong with 'staying put', 'growing roots', 'settling down'? it is, after all, the sign of evolution, of progress. civilisation, society started when the stone-age hunters began to cultivate land and gather in settlements, rather than keep moving after the migrating beasts.

...which of course, led to the recurring themes of population explosion, necessitating further migration, finding new lands to settle, ad infinitum...

so it looks like stillness is vital--perhaps even more than movement--for growth in any of its myriad aspects.

you only have to think about the ancient sages who sat/stood still for years in meditation to attain their insights. for the more scientifically-minded, i'd point out the classic image of newton lazing under the apple tree.

MOVEMENT provides information/knowledge/experience

STILLNESS bestows awareness/wisdom/maturity

i'll elaborate on this topic in future (please feel free to provoke me if you have any comments) but there's something else i've been wanting to write about on this blog.

coming up: Innocence and Beauty!

"a rolling stone..."

a very dear friend of mine asked "what's the problem with NOT being a rolling stone?" the question was rhetorical (because i know he loves to travel), but it set me thinking.

you see, i have another very good friend who epitomises the very concept of a rolling stone: he very rarely, if ever, sticks to one place for more than a month. he has an overwhelming need to keep moving, keep shifting geographic locations.

i can empathise with him, because i too (like a million other people, i'm sure) have this fantasy whenever i go on a long ride: i wish that the road (and the petrol in my bike!) would never end, that i could keep going forever...

there is something about perpetual movement that is alluring, and tugs at us at the very core of our beings. the desire to be 'somewhere else', to journey onward, to become restless when we remain in one place for too long.

this genetic necessity to travel, is of course, the reason why humanity has not stagnated, and has spread to the farthest corners of the world (and will someday make us reach out to the stars).

wise people have said: "movement is life, standing still is death." there are myriad versions of this saying that apply to every aspect of life, whether it is personal, societal, or civilisational.

in my next post, i'll explore the 'mossy' part of the equation.

"leave me alone!"

the cry is desperate, sometimes filled with agony, sometimes rage, most often a simple plea.

why is it so difficult for the world (composed of other humans who have all had the same desire for solitude sometime or the other) to accept that one might simply not want to participate in its affairs?

why make outcasts of the ones who are 'different' just because of who they are, what their nature makes them be? is living on their own terms so horrific a disease that they have to physically remove themselves from society, become hermits?

how many beautiful people have we chased out from our midst because they wouldn't 'fit in'?

how many sublime ideas, how many works of art have we deprived the world of, by forcing seclusion upon them?

we blame the media for building people (both talented and worthy, as well as hollow gasbags) up into 'celebrities' and then cutting them off at the knees to watch them topple. it's a game that we love to play: like children playing at the beach, we love to build (or watch somebody build) up a sandcastle, and then derive wicked pleasure in trampling it all down and grinding it into the dirt.

'society' - a convenient word created to replace the closer-to-home words 'you' and 'me'.

god rest your soul, mr.salinger (if you believed in god and thought you had a soul)