In The Silence Of My Solitude - A Novel (Part 3)

Once I came to the “Pleasure of Sleep”, I noticed that I didn’t sleep the whole night. I saw the sun rising, with its red hue, as if it was getting warmed up for the day. I wondered who were the fortunate people, all-nighters or all-dayers? I guess the 12 angry men were still debating about that one.

I thought about the lecture I gave and it filled me with guilt. Here I was, talking about some of the things which bothered mankind for time immemorial, and I was offering solutions, just like free peanuts. The humbler in me nudged me a bit. I like this guy, he provides me with essential amount of humility. Humbleness he provides, made me enjoy the greatness of people I admired, without taking the path of jealousy.

But, the fact of the matter was, that lecture was not for anyone, it was for myself.The whole stadium was occupied by my  minime's in a lesser state of mind, listening to their mirror image,but who was in a higher state of mind. It was as if, I wanted to remember and register, all my findings and doubts,because that higher state of mind would not remain forever. When in lower state, the depressive thoughts I get, would seem to be the truths, if not for the registration of those beautiful thoughts. Thats why I call it as foundation to mind. The conclusions arrived on a depressed mind are never right or truthful conclusions.

The lecture was also  organic, in the sense that, it was not prepared beforehand and the conclusions in each part of it might not be in congruence with later part of it.That lecture was part and parcel of my search for the truth.

I picked up my mother’s pooja book and wondered why I wanted to read those mindless pooja hymns, which I wouldn’t even understand, or to put it mildly, I abhor them. The trauma of studying in RSS school for couple of years was enough! I guess, I just wanted to see her hand writing, other than that it was a useless relic.

I walked just like a cat to my bed, without feeling any guilt about my last night’s promise to my dad.

White lies are god made. In my view, guilt less sleep is the best sleep. I went into sleep, while enjoying that 2 minutes of pleasure, wondering why I shouldn’t enjoy the whole span of sleep. Sleep is death in a way, because, you become unconscious. May be, that was why, dreams were invented -- to remind you of your existence, even though, I had thoughts about the whole existence being a dream.

 Chapter 8 : The Mysteries of the Pleasure

I woke up at 1 pm, straightaway went for cigs, which were essential for my morning call routines. When I went to kitchen, I was surprised to find some dosas and peanut chuty, my favorite food.

That sight brought a tinge of guilt, but vanished after the first bite of dosa immersed in peanut chutney. When a person loves you unconditionally and if you don’t reciprocate, all that remains is the guitiness.

My dad was a learned guy and he had an internet connection, even in that small town. I logged on and found the desi gril I was talking to on my IM. Hellos and LOL’s lead to some horny talk.’Horny time folks!”, I said to myself.

Me : I took away her gold plate away from her navel..looks like its fake..

She : and..

Me : "my gold", she said.

        "I am your gold ..dear", I said.

        and I sat on my knees..and slided the pattu saree and revealed her navel..

        beautiful it was and I looked at her..and she was like.."what now" with a tinge of shyness

She: lol..go on..

Me: and then she lol'ed..I was like wtf..who lol's during romance..

      I was not concerned about her head...my concentration was on her navel..

    her navel was like a 3d picture ..right before my face..

      and she wore her saree above her..what do u call "boddu" in English?

She : I donno..

Me : I kind of jerked her saree..and it went below the ‘boddu’..

       .I am able to see that..right before my eyes..and I  went

       and rubbed my nose on then and it kissed...swirling my tongue around it..

She : you are making me hot…

A standard dialogue.

Me: and at the same time..I lifted my head..and now saw her shy red face..

      " No body touched here before..baby"

      she said, " the nurse touched it when I was born"

       I said, " you are srilakshmi"

       then see laughed..and then I put my hands around her medium size ass..

       I went crazy..because  many call me as ass-man..

       it was soft and cushy..

She: Stoppppp!

A standard dialogue again.

Me: there is no chain to pull in this train, baby.

After that, usually, in some old Technicolor telugu movies, they show either a flower or horse, and the significance of which I never understood. But, the leaning tower of pisa straightened to unstable position, for the sake of the volcano to erupt and then came back to its former position. I didn’t know if the earth quake happened in America or not, but, my seismometer did register the tremors. Tim berners lee must be one horny dude. Internet, by itself, destroyed many moral codes people follow, by supplying the mankind, in the best possible angles, the sin committed by adam and eve. God watched it, didn’t he? Then, what are we scrupling about?

In the calm that ensued, I wondered why the anticipation of sex was more powerful then the act itself. why men go crazy about certain places of women, the same places they came out to this planet and sucked onto for survival. Only, the dead Freud could answer.

I read somewhere that a doctor prescribed an orgasm every night before bed, to a woman who went to him with sleep problems. Whether it was true or not, I immediately went to sleep again. Bliss.

When I got up at 5 pm, I mentally reviewed the things I did the whole day. Pleasure,Pleasure,Pleasure; without any guilt. The fact that I didn’t feel any guilt made me very guilty. Usually, people has this image of NRI guys returning from Ammeerica as; suit wearing, tie tearing, iphone looking, ical planning, company starting, bottled water drinking, knife and fork using, liberal thinking,prospective bride hunting, busy bee acting,  “ I am the best invention since corn bread’; kind of cool dudes. I don’t know if these people get shocked by looking at me or by knowing what these ‘cool dudes’ actually did back in America. Save your drowry, folks.

I was doing nothing and being nothing. But, that was what I intended to do, atleast for some time. Bukowski became my best friend.Even though, I wanted to be nobody, the society gave a word for that. A Bum. It was like the society wanted to have a name and a designation, in the same way they want to know your caste after assuming that you were a hindu. “This guy’s name is so and so, and so and so caste, and he is an American returned, and a bum’. I don’t know if I should be pissed off with the word “caste” or “American returned” or with the word, ‘Bum’. Bum looked fine, as it is just a three lettered word and  has many rhyming partners.

I looked at the ceiling and tried to find any spiders, to entertain me with some national geographic scenes of brutality. I didn’t find any, and my thoughts went to my childhood. I got small pox one time and that made me bed ridden for a few days. Even at that time, I abhorred boredom and people do crazy stuff to avoid boredom. I used to look at the spiders, insects and lizards; eaten by one another in the fashion described by the predator pyramid. It was the middle class room ecosystem in its full form. I used to order the lizard and say, “Now, you go and eat it”, after the lizard actually started eating the insect. A boys mind is the biggest library for any cartoonist. A boy always dreams of power, and he instinctively gets attracted to supermans and hemans. He wants to grow very fast, only to get that power, and be powerful to control things.But, I wish, he would know that growing up has its own problems, and that, more you control things the more they go out of control. I wondered, if the same kind of ,’thirst for power’, followed him to his adulthood. Is this what driving the humanity, A thirst for power? Is it an evolutionary gimmick for survival of the powerful? If that is the case, men will forever remain as boys, albeit, with lost innocence.I saw that boy inside me, even though; I was so gloriously talking about being a nobody. The thing was,I saw being a nobody, as being better than anybody. In that sense, I wanted to feel more powerful, even though that power has no physical manifestation. A true nobody would not give a fuck about that comparison.

The nature of thoughts is that, they come in groups, linking each other, and you cannot consciously stop them. A single thought could make your day or ruin it, depending on the links it comes with. The thoughts of my childhood always link with the thoughts of my mother. It doesn’t matter, even if they are repressed and put in the cold storage.

After mother left us, people went totally crazy. They bribed the police to intensify search. They searched hospitals for dead bodies. They even spied and interrogated my dad. Blame games went on for some time. Character assassinations were done. Finally, an ad was placed in all the news papers, in the missing person’s section, among the tens of missing people ads. Where did all these missing people go, I used to wonder. A bigger question was, “Why do missing people go missing?”.

People theorized that, if she is not dead, she would come back at some point, atleast for her son. Mothers love is like that, they said. But, she didn’t come. Not even a word, either. How could a woman vanish in to thin air? The society's pride got hit, and when pride gets hit, they come up with wild theories. One of which was that, she eloped with some young college student. Another ridiculous theory proposed by one of her friend, actually was that, she went to Bombay to become the new dimple kapadia. Her reason was that, my mother watched ‘Bobby’ more than 20 times. My mother’s side blamed my father’s side for ruining their daughter’s life and my father’s side blamed my mother’s side for ruining my father’s life.

A child never understands the adult blame games and their theories. He doesn't know that spurious words can form into ridiculous sentences and, those can form into wild theories. The only thing he can feel is his pain. It was like getting lost among a sea of people for me. The anxiety of getting lost is very powerful. That anxiety is built into nature, I guess, to save the cub from the predators. Anxiety spurs action, But, What could I do at that time…other than cry. My father’s sister looked after for me for sometime. But, whenever she hit me, even though with the same intensity as my mother, I still used to feel much more pain than usual. Emotional dialogues learnt from stupid movies flew, and they always used to work.She was a headmistress and she ran the family in the same way. Strict and Structured. Even though, I was cut some slack, the order bothered me a lot, and I complained. I was a free bird then, and, now. Order and Structure bores me, and boredom, in my case, is not something like the ‘normal’ people’s boredom. It kills my psyche and, it was and is my hell. They sent me back to my father, more because of my monkey behavior than my complaints. I destroyed her order and structure.

A child is like a kid who runs after a butterfly in a garden. When he is running after it, nothing in the world matters. He runs and runs after it, to catch it. Then, he sees something else and runs after it. His whole childhood is all about running and running, for the things which caught his fancy. My dad knew that, and he started buying me toys and what not. First came the toy train, the object of jealousy of the neighborhood kids. Then came many more toys…and many more. I used to bring my friends to the house and let them play with my toys, under my guidance, feeling a sense of power. Life looked static. You lose something and gain something. For a while, it looked like as if I had nothing to lose. Everything was a profit.

I didn’t know what I lost until I started seeing my friends parents, in my 7’s and 8’s of my childhood.

“ He is not coming, the roads are getting dangerous, you go and play” (I don’t care if you die)

“ Why are u teaching my kid to climb trees? Why are you spoiling him?”   (I love my kid, who r u?)

The fact that those mothers loved their kids bothered me, much more than that fact that they were so heartless. Those stupid bitches had no heart, but with what heart they loved their kids, I didn’t know.

“You are a spoilt kid. You are a rebel”

Rebel.Rebel.Rebel. I was reminded of that word, by many times, by many people, in different phases of my life. In school, in college, at work, in America..everywhere, everytime. It has lost its meaning for me.
" You are a rabble rouser, you spoil people". Enough!

I once played a,” show me yours and I will show mine”, game with a girl who was my classmate.I don’t know who showed what, but she started crying and her mother went ballistic. Complaints went to my father, but action was not taken, just like the governmental compliant boxes. My dad pampered me, and he still does that. No matter how much we disagree and how much we fight, I am still a mother less kid for him.

My mother’s side pampered me too. I used to go to their village every summer vacation, till I was 8.

The first scene was always, the sentimental scene. My grandmother along with some other older ladies, used to hug me, kiss me and start crying, as if somebody died. Sympathy, I didn’t like.Hatred, I didn’t like.Normalcy, I wanted and cherished. Then they sit around me, in the veranda, during the hot summer, and talk about, how beautiful she was, and how beautiful her eyes were. Beauty,eyes,beauty,eyes,beauty,eyes….what nonsense! By talking in that way, they killed her and found closure in it. My father’s side never used to mention her name at all, as it was some disgusting topic for them. They assumed that she eloped with someone, and found closure it. Only two people who didn’t find closure, was me and my dad. People closest to someone can never have a closure based on some theory. I wished she was dead, at least that would bring a full stop to the internal drama.

That small village was fun though. The kids befriended me, even though I played arrogant, initially. That comes with English educated kid meeting with Telugu educated kids. They looked at me awe, when I talked some stupid English. All that façade of superiority didn’t go along, when they started catching the crabs.When the crab bit me and I started  crying with pain, it destroyed my invincibility. The nature of friendship is such that, it levels the play ground and only then the true friendship starts. What is higher and lower, in the grand scheme of things?

-- continued here

In The Silence Of My Solitude - A Novel (Part 2)

The hit of dopamine from the cigarette, my solitude and the sky helped each other and combined synergistically, and produced a sense of ecstasy and wonder.

During those moments, I usually want to share my wonder, my conclusions and my doubts with everyone, and I started a lecture in my mind, as if the whole world was my audience:

For me; a moon-less, cloudless night sky is the most beautiful natural art on this planet. It’s not to say that the night sky with full moon and bit of clouds is not beautiful at all. But, it has its own purpose…one of which is romance and even, horror sometimes. That’s beside the point. There are some great paintings that people drew, but what’s the scope of the canvas? The whole sky is the canvas for the natural art of night sky and no goddamn artist can beat that. The most unfortunate people are those who live in the cities.

A person may be overwhelmed by the sky for religious reasons, thinking about god, but, for me, it is more scientific and artistic. Not only that, the fact that our ancestors, scientists, philosophers looked at the same sky with the same kind of awe, gives me a sense of euphoria.

It kind of struck me that; I am at the same upstairs and at the same spot from where I used to watch the sky as a kid. It is as if that moment was just a continuation of my childhood. It is as if; my journey into adulthood, journey to Hyderabad and journey to America, and all that didn’t happen at all. “who I am”  is still “who I was”, because, the knowledge I gained, the wisdom I attained, experiences I experienced, did not and would not change my  sense of self, a sense of who I am. The sense of ‘I am watching the sky’ as a kid, is the same as, ‘I am watching the sky’, at that moment. I don’t know how else I can explain that feeling.

I feel this sense of ‘I’, because, while watching the sky, I feel that, we, human beings are nothing, Nothing at all. You see millions of stars and some of those twinkles are actually galaxies which contain millions of stars and not to mention some black holes lurking around somewhere. Now, the earth is millions of times smaller than an average star and human beings are millions of times smaller than the earth.And, the human beings just ignore all that and just fight and kill, corrupt themselves and corrupt the earth and struggle just to survive; but, at the same time, doesn’t take even one minute of their time, to enjoy this wonder and finally find that they are nobodies. Only if, only if they do that once a while, that would bring enormous change in the planet. I always felt this sense of ‘I’, only when I find that I am a nobody. Even though, it doesn't make any sense on its face value, it does make sense.

People say that you have to work hard, struggle and do things which you don’t like and which makes you unhappy; for all those 20 to 30 yrs of your fit adult life, so that you can have a permanent comfortable life. Look how ridiculous this is!  What the hell do they mean by permanent? We ARE going to die somewhere around the average human life span. Do you call that permanent? Forget about you and me, and take the whole humanity including your grandchildren. Just, one strike by meteor, or one explosion of a star, and we are gone. Forget about meteor, how about a mega tsunami? In that brief span of human life, that 30yrs is very substantial for me to let it go waste.

Problem is, people repress lot of facts which makes them afraid, and one of which is the fact that they are going to die one day. So, when they use such words like “permanent”, they are actually saying that man is immortal.

Society represses lot of facts, and when a person represses lot of facts, he becomes a psych patient. Society, in general, is a psych patient, which needs some brilliant psychoanalyst. Now, why a person would want to take suggestions and orders from a psych patient is beyond my imagination.

I am not saying that we shouldn’t work hard. When people say ‘hard work’, I don’t know if they are talking about psychological pain or physical pain. Whatever the definition is, if people ‘enjoy’ their goal and the work that precedes it, then where does the question of hardness come from. Yes, there will be some instances where you feel the pain and dejection while reaching the goal. During those times, all you got to do is visualize and enjoy that goal, or just take off for sometime, or just leave the whole damn thing. Just don’t beat yourself up. The goal is never important than yourself. The ‘goal’ does not define ‘you’.

I want to a make a distinction between ‘pleasure’ and ‘happiness’. The ‘pleasure’ comes from enjoying your work, your goal or just by sniffing a line of cocaine. Happiness comes from just being ‘yourself’ and it comes from within. For pleasure, you have to do something, and for happiness you don’t need to do anything. Pleasure is temporary and happiness is permanent. I want to use that word ‘permanent’ because, we are all in love with that word. Happiness is permanent, because it comes from self-knowledge. Because when your body and mind dies, do u really die? I am not talking about soul and all that spiritual crap.

But, this is all shit. You know why? Because, I am reaching all these seemingly truthful nuggets, when I got the ‘pleasure’ by watching the sky. Not only that, if you notice, I am alone now, and I call that solitude. Solitude is not the same as loneliness. Solitude is the moment a man lives to become aware of himself. Solitude is with a purpose of self discovery, but loneliness is a kind of helplessness. So, pleasure and solitude must be prerequisite for self-knowledge and self-knowledge is a prerequisite for happiness.

But, this is all shit again. Because, it’s not possible to have self-knowledge, just from those tiny moments of solitude you have and pleasure you get. I believe that pleasure and happiness bootstrap each other. Pleasure gives happiness, and happiness gives more pleasure and more pleasure gives more happiness, and finally it is all happiness. It is a continuous process, and has no ending.

The problem with drugs like cocaine is that; it gives you pleasure, makes you feel cocky and grandiose; and at the same time, it is very short acting. This produces a vicious cycle of dependence and abuse. But, psychedelic drugs gives you all the introspection you need, but, only if you take them for that purpose. They are not at all addictive but if you take psychedelic drugs to escape sadness, you would regret it. I believe, you should take psychedelic drugs only twice in your life time -- now and before your deathbed, as doctor prescribed. The mildly psychedelic, marijuana, is all together a different beast, even though it is mildly addictive. I have to say, that it is the best drug in the whole world, after food.

Society, not only represses facts but also ignorant of them. With that ignorance, it teaches us that drugs are bad. Don’t ignore the society, but dissect its argument with cold logic that comes from the knowledge of your research. There may be instances where you may agree with them, and there is nothing wrong in that, because, in the end, we are all part of that society.

People are always in pursuit of happiness. A would be suicide-bomber believes that he is going to get that happiness in heaven after he becomes a martyr. We are all in the pursuit of money for the same reason. We eat food for the same reason. But, none of this will give you happiness. They may give you temporary pleasure, and you get addicted for that pleasure, and want to feel it again and again. It comes to a point that, you would exploit others, rape or even kill others, for that hit of pleasure. The worst kind of pleasure is the pleasure of ‘comfort’. We always think that the comfort of high class beds, sofa sets, houses, cars, or even a big screen TV’s gives us pleasure. The pleasure you get from comfort would last less than month or so, from my experience.

That’s why people compare all the time, because they lost the pleasure of comfort. They revel in the tragedy of others; they imagine the life of poor, so that they get that hit of pleasure again. Any person, who revels in the tragedy of others, is an addict. Pure and simple.

Indians, who immigrate to rich countries, enjoy that country much more than locals. But, for that, they always have to summon up the feeling, “how fortunate I am when compared to a billion people in my home country”. This sense gives them temporary pleasure, which is necessary to avoid the fact that they became mechanical slave machines and cog in the wheels, living everyday in the fear of losing job or losing the privilege of staying in that country. This sense of false pride, that they are fortunate than their own countrymen, is the single biggest reason, since we already proved that comfort is temporary, why Indians refuse to go back to their home country. They don’t want to lose that false ‘specialty’. This insecurity is extremely prevalent among the middle-class and lower-middle class people who immigrate to rich countries. They have a valid reason for that. Middle class life in India teaches us that we are a nobody (not in the philosophical sense) and we grew up wanting to be somebody. We hate the feeling of being nobody and the claustrophobic effect it produces. Our hard work and everything we do come from that hatred. We take the first flight out of the country to become somebody. We would soon find out that, we are still a nobody, once the new becomes old. We may escape from our country, but we cannot escape from our own mind, where all the shackles exist. When the slave is within you, Where ever you go, you are still a slave. Slavery produces suffering.

I have to agree, atleast initially, when people argue that they came to America, or some other ‘white’ countries (yes, all western countries are white dominated), for the freedom it offers. But, I have a problem with that too. Because, ultimately, after you did all the things you could do with your freedoms, you would still need a comparison. After the comparison stops producing its effects, you would then feel a cricket ball size hole in your heart. That hole will suck you in. Yes, freedom; either it is about freedom of speech or freedom to have sex, is an absolute essential necessity for  humanity, but, at the same time, if you don’t get freedom from the jails you built in your mind, you cannot enjoy anything.

Even if we are in India, we would still work hard only for comparison. Citizens of super-powers still need ‘slumdogs’ to feel better about themselves. So, saying that this country is better than other country is of no use. Every country is shit, except Antarctica.But, given a choice and all things being equal, which country would you choose? But, again, traveling to different countries is necessary, not only for enjoyment but also to expand our horizons. If we start to believe, that the whole world is ours,atleast in our mind, then I guess that idea itself would break one or two shackles in our mind. If we believe that every human being is same, then that would break one or two more shackles in our mind.

I believe that the key to everything is to find happiness within.

Greed is a comparison based system and it has no end. That is the reason why, such a system produces enormous amounts of products for each and EVERY needs, including pedophilia and animal sex. Greed system will have everything except, happiness. Not only that, such kind of system needs to wage wars to maintain itself, because of the limited resources of the earth, and I guess, finally, self destruct itself. When a single rumor (?) that a person crossed a line produced travel disruptions for the whole day, because of the consequences of the system itself, then, what kind of system is that? Other systems like religious systems are greedy too, and one of which might be the number of converts.

When people say that man is greedy, that is true when you are assuming that a man is defined just by his body and mind. That is what I am all talking about here.

The problem with religion is that, it asks you to just believe without questioning. A system without questioning will turn out to be a dangerous system..and we have seen that all through the history. A religion which says ‘ask yourself’ is not a religion at all.Some say that religion teaches you morals. That is utter total nonsense. A religion might say that, “Don’t kill another human being”, but asks us to believe it as it is, without any reasoning. How is it possible for me to follow it without a reason? If a person tries to kill me, and if there is no chance to escape, I would certainly try to kill or incapacitate that person. Even if the religion says, “Don’t kill another human being..except”, I still would have a problem with that. You may accuse me of finding reasons for everything and say that not everything happens for a reason.Okay, that’s fine. Then, how can I choose one religion from another…if the only requirement is to believe whatever they say. Then you say “ask yourself”, and then my question would be, “on which moral foundation should I ask myself, since religion is the only one which teaches me the morals”. Chicken and egg. Then you say, “Morals are within you”. That’s exactly what I am saying; I don’t need religion for my morals.

I have my own reasons to believe that man does not need moral teachings. Let me explain. The whole universe which includes atoms, rocks, plants, animals, human beings; is an existence. Human beings and most probably some other higher animals became conscious of that. I believe consciousness is a by-product of the shape of the brain and its chemicals. But, at the same time, the shape of brain and chemicals are not static all the time. Especially, chemicals change in composition all the time in a single hour. But, the memory of that consciousness is always there in the brain. So, when human beings feel ‘I exist’, you notice that ‘I’ is alone. Loneliness is hell for man. When he sees you, he not only comes to know that you also exist, but also comes to know that you too have the knowledge that you exist. Then he empathizes with your loneliness, and that is nothing but love. Out of that love comes all the happiness. That love is not only for you, but for all the human beings. Love is nothing but an antidote to emotional loneliness through understanding and empathizing with each other. Now, why would a human being kill a person he loves? You might have heard yourself saying, “Kill the chicken, but kill it without it being conscious of it”. You assumed that it had consciousness, and felt a connection with it. But, you didn’t feel any connection physically. Whether a chicken has consciousness or not, I don’t know; but, when a human recognizes a creature and call him as human, he automatically assumes that the creature has consciousness. So, the morals are all within the human beings. They just need to be conscious (aware) of their own existence, more than often. When a person loves another person, he feels responsible for the other. That’s why some people say, “You are here but you are responsible for the violence in Somalia”.

Everything is made of the same thing. We see the similarities at different levels. So,

in a way, pleasure and happiness are the same, in the sense that pleasure is the product of happiness. The difference is that, we can summon happiness at our own will, so it forms a kind of foundation to our mind. The pleasure is much more powerful, but the higher you go on pleasure, the harder you fall. But, if you have a foundation of happiness, and when you fall from the ‘cloud 9’, you fall on a soft cushy bed. That means, you won’t become an addict of anything. Sad people are addicts and which is like 100% of the population.

Human beings are products of evolution. But, consciousness is an accidental by-product of the same evolution. Evolution wants you to succeed and it is ruthless.

When a strong male lion wants to join a new pride, it goes and kills all the cubs in it, before the eyes of their weaker father. Then, it goes and literally rapes the female lions in the pride, not one, all of them. From the perspective of evolution, this is perfectly fine as the cubs of a stronger male lion are strong. When female lions work hard and kill a beast, the male lion (husband) forcibly steals from them and leave them the left overs.This is also fine as the male lion needs to be stronger to protect them.

The genes were coded to do this. All genes care, is their propagation, and they don’t care as much for you once you are done with procreation. The same genes will kill you later, because, one, you are already done with procreation and, two, you are a headache to the new generation. The genes work by acting on your mind, through your pleasure centers. Your body is just a machine under the control of those genes. You are controlled by the ‘pleasure’.

Once man found consciousness, this evolution gave him emotional pain, as it sometimes want him to kill another man. And, deep inside man knows that it is wrong, but he still do.

Evolution and consciousness are enemies. Evolution and consciousness are friends. Both statements are true. Evolution made mother love her child and that’s ok with consciousness. Evolution made man jealous of another man, and that’s not ok with consciousness. Because, happiness is a product of consciousness and if someone is happy, why would he be jealous of anything?

A historic battle will take place between evolution and consciousness, for the last time, on your death bed. You want to live, but your body and mind want to die. Your body and mind changed many times, as the cells have been destroyed and constructed many times. May be the cell says enough, and stops dividing. But, your consciousness remained all the same throughout your life. A slow death because of old age is painful. A horrible but much quicker death is much more preferable than old age death. I may be wrong, but I never saw lower animals struggling when they die of old age. But, man struggles till the end, because the physical pain of his body is nothing when compared to the emotional pain. So, when a priest comes to his death bed and lies to him that he is going to god, then, that thought gives him a peace of mind. Because, he thinks that he is not going to die after all. I believe that priest solution for that problem is not a good solution.

It’s ironic, when I say that the first and last time, a man does not want to be conscious of himself, is on his death bed. The solution is to administer cocaine or some other stimulants to make him feel omnipotent and feel less pain. Let a man die as a god.

(but, it kind of confuses me when some learned men wanted to take psychedelics on their death bed. May be they want to experience the beauty once again, even though the beauty itself, might produce pain. I don’t know)

Is it possible, that finally, evolution takes consciousness in to consideration and become friends? If evolution and consciousness become friends, then there won’t be death. But, at the same time, if there is no death, then everyone will suffer hunger, because of lack of resources, and this may lead to less efficient genes. So, it just defeats the whole purpose. A much better question would be why genes want to compete and propagate? What’s driving them? A worse scenario is when, if the evolution takes consciousness into consideration, and finds out that it is producing less efficient genes, then, will it revert back to lesser humans? Is that the reason why we are fighting wars much more deadly than before? Let’s leave at that, as, these are just hypothetical questions.

Then, what is the purpose of human life? I have an answer for this one. The purpose is pleasurable happiness or happy pleasures. We must enjoy all the pleasures that come with evolution and the happiness that comes with our consciousness.

The pleasure of food. Imagine, eating a chicken dum biryani after many days. Imagine eating a well made steak. Imagine eating a mango. Food acts directly on our pleasure centers. Even if you eat just raw food, it still acts on you pleasure centers. People say eat in moderation, as if saying that such a strict rule will somehow make you eat less.

Saying or enforcing such a rule will not help anyone. You are eating too much food most probably because you are a sad person. Food helps you from that sadness and you became an addict. It’s not to say that people who eat less food are happy people, because they have other kind of addictions which helps them from their sadness. I am not putting a limit on number of chicken biryanis you can eat. All I am saying is, ask yourself and everyone, “What’s the source of that sadness”. If you begin asking that,then you will be in the path of self discovery and it will give you happiness and which in turn will help in the chicken not getting extinct. Every person is sad, but there are lot of people who are sadder. I am not exactly sure the exact cause of the psychological problems. It could be the shape of the brain, to chemical compositions, which are effected by thoughts which emanate from conflicts and repressions, which emanate from experiences. What I am positive about, is the fact that psychology is a necessary evolutionary layer on the consciousness. When the sea is rough it’s difficult to find direction. Let’s calm the sea first and then proceed with self discovery. Medication must be used with that goal in mind.

Pleasure of sleep. 

--  continued here

In The Silence Of My Solitude - A Novel

In The Silence Of My Solitude

Chapter 1 : A Review with prejudice.

Airports, especially American airports are boring places as they are devoid of drama, comedy or romance, unlike other places like Indian railway stations or even greyhound bus terminals. I feel like a robot arriving and departing;arriving, departing and security checked; departing, arriving and waiting for the lost baggage.

I spent three valuable years of my life in airports.

Take your shoes off, take your belt off, no metals, "sir, follow me please", "sir, whats in your pocket",

The worst is laguardia.The special security checkers hands goes to unknown places.

"what is this, sir"

"thats my ****"

"sorry about that"

"its okay"

"really sorry about that"

"dont mention it"

I hate airports.

But, I couldnt avoid them. I thought as I was watching CNN at the Keneddy international airport in New York.Wolf blitzer, as usual, was emotionless.

"This is it", I said to myself and then mentally reviewed the movie I had seen for last 9 years.After all,I read Roger Ebert for 8 yrs.

America is not a land of opportunity, it is a quagmire which sucks you in slow motion. It is the ultimate padmavuhum.You have to sell your soul to Adam Smith to pay the dolla for the heat. If this is model country to any developing countries, then hell is waiting for them.In a country like america, no one is a citizen. Everyone is a consumer...and that gives an illusion of equality.We have only one earth to consume, consumers.Only one earth. There is no other earth in savings account. There is no earth for credit.

America is a beautiful ad and the greatness of America is all in that ad. People flock to this country looking at this ad.70% of Mexicans dream to come to America. They try to cross the border illegally, and some people die in the process. What they get in return? One more ad...and then one more ad.

America will not make you a millionaire. Please take that idea out of your mind. You need to understand the system, get exploited by the system, and then game the system...or just wait for the next boom. Everyone gets rich during that boom...only to get busted later.

It is a dog eat dog world. This is the real animal planet. National geographic is focusing their cameras at wrong places.

America is NOT a rich country demographically. It’s a lower-middle-class country. American corporations need foreigners to come to this country..not only to exploit the cheap labour but also to make them consumers.

Advertisement is one of the basic unit of a greed based system.If people collectively stop watching advertisements; the system would collapse in a week. I bet on it. In order to feel cool, you gotta buy that jeans, u gotta buy that iphone, u gotta have that shit..this shit.Fuck that shit. The govt literally gave tax credit to make people spend it.Sexy woman dont fuck you if you are not cool..right? The ads of corporation makes you feel shitty and then offer a solution.Voila! We all are courtesans of corporations.

The world didnt become a global village. It became a global market. People are not those friendly villagers you can smile to..but are all consuming robots..stuffing Kfc and MCd junk in their mouths..

Now, its all over. Its not that I wont be back. I will be back, but no way I am going to settle down here. I cannot settle in a country which touts itself as 'super power'.Every super power needs to wage wars and kill people to maintain its statusquo. I believe I am a citizen of this world, but somehow, super powers are not so super for me.

"I got one negative mind", I thought.

How about its universities, libraries, movies,music,art,chomsky,npr,weather,roads,clean air,muti-culture,sexy woman, hippies and rebels. May pagan goddess bless them! America is great only because of these.I was able to bear it only because of those movies, books, art and women. All the banks,insurance companies, payday shops, walmarts,walstreet,body shoppers,pimps, politicians, capital punishment,pro-life war mongers,desi exploiters, credit cards, car dealers, bouncers,muggers,pushers,cops,racists,main stream media can go to hell.

Yes. I loove america. Except for weather and clean air, you can access every good thing about america remotely. You dont need to live in america. Trust me. The distance between you and Bob dylan is always same..wherever you are.

"Enough", said my mind.

Gotta listen to my mind. It is my first love and gives me lot of entertainment. I can never escape it.I run sometimes, or drive fast or drive to reach that peak in Albuquerque, just to escape from it or to set it right. But,its always there. It is the fucking vinayaka of my life.

My mind abhors boredom. It goes on looking for drama and excitment.

I went back. Flash back.

My mother was beautiful. I dont remember much about her..other than few vague scenes. She was sitting on a chair before a mirror..applying kaatuka..and singing a song..I think it was from 'Bobby'. I saw her eyes in close-up and they were beautiful. I remember her telling me stories, feeding me rice and curry and yogurt, showing me the moon. During that time, mother was everything. She was even my pillow, blanket and bed.

Then, suddenly she was gone. I didnt know where.I felt abondoned and hated her.I hated my dad and his silence. I went from relative to relative, crying, and asking them, " Where is my amma?".Silence.That terrible silence. I hated that silence.The violence of silence which saw the blood of my heart.

And then, it was all over. Time doesn’t heal shit. It just buries the wound. Layer by layer it buried it.I moved on. School, college and disappointments. Sex and erotica. Movies and Music. Love and heartbreak. friendships and backstabbings. Wars and bars. Alcohol and selfrespect.religion and caste.Ambedkar and gandhi.Reservations and anger.Boredom and red buses. Lessons learnt and

unlearnt.F1 and H1.cigaretess and asthma.relationships and ex's. Histrionics and borderlines. black,brown,white,yellow pussies. Masters and slaves. Mushrooms and Marijuana.programming,physics,psychology,philosophy and sleep.ADD and meds.Beds and bugs.

Sometimes wounds bury wounds. Sometimes, everything looks like a wound.

30 is a terrible number. It is the time when 25 yr old aunties call you, 'Old'. There is no 99.9 thing with age. You add up 20 and 50 starts staring right at you.what did I do all these years? My sex life was just 8 yrs old...that too intermittent. My black friend tuan started it at age of 13..and tendulkar would be jealous of his centuries.But, he became old as fast. A father at the age of 20 is not something I dream about. I didnt yet conquer the world. The world conquered me instead, and kept its nike das boot on my neck and having victorious laugh.Well, not exactly.But, dramatic though.

30 is also time for introspection. A look back at the past you. The different persons you went through. The different personalities in you, which died a million times. You dig up the layers...one by one,facing the wounds..and sometimes finding gold. You dig furthur and find the mother of all wounds - your mother or rather lack of her or rather the question what happend to her? If questions are not answered, they will come back at you ferociously, just like karan thapar interviews.

I slept well. I hate domestic flights, but international flights are cool, especially when u fly during night. I love these night journeys.Looked like recession worked as I spread all the three seats out, took off my shoes and slept like a baby.I never gave a fuck about eitquete.The hum gave the white noise.

Chapter 2 :  Reality

There are no seas in hyderabad..except seas of humanity. A fucked up city. I love it and hate it. I spent all my adult life in this city.The city does have a character, which needs a hightly qualified shrink.It is as screwed as new york..except it doesnt have lower east side.May be it was just the jet lag...I was not sure.

My dad became old, kids became adults, babies became teenagers, and the city became Jr.Bad America. If you take all the bad things about America including its reality shows and shit, and add pollution and dirt, it becomes the new hyderabad.I became depressed as hell..the couple of dollas I brought had no value at all.The TV's were blasting advertisements which were soo cleverly preying on the sentiments of the people.I thought I escaped America, but I fell right through the chimney into pizza oven...and facing the mini me of Dr.evil. The world became circular. I felt claustrophobic, suffocated by the heat, trampled by the people, half-assembled robots. Rich became richer and poor became poorer. The middle-class thought it became rich, but it didn’t. The rising cost of everything, cost of bribes, was killing everyone. The caste system still intact.Hindu-muslims still like narcissist-borderline couple. Everything changed and nothing changed. The papaji dhabha at abids still served the best ginger chicken.But, just reaching it became a nightmare.

I came back.My generation stayed back in America. The new generation went again to america. I need to find people like me.There must be people like me. That must be difficult, as I became a quarter americano. one-thirtieth canadian..one-hundredth australian.... and I guess, half human.

  

Chapter 3 : Family Drama

Not surprisingly, it didnt take much time for my dad and relatives to piss me off. It is the story of my life.The concept of close-knit families and societies is a double edge sword. How could any person have his own privacy and solitude with all these 'guardian angels' hovering over his head. It’s not as if they really care about me, they are programmed robots which gives free advice at the drop of a rupee. My dad lives for society and that is the biggest problem for me. He judges me from the eyes of the society. Its as if he just reads the reviews and judge the movie, instead of watching it. That always used to piss me off because; I really wanted him to be proud of me. A person feels victorious only when he gets approval from his parents.Ever saw 'Mother India'?

So, the farce started.

" I think its time for you to get married", he started. That meant he already rehearsed all the dialogues in this farce.

" that time is the time when I am ready", I said.

I knew what was going to come out of his mouth -- the dirty "30" word.

" You are already 30 ".

" I conquered the fear of poverty, fear of failure, fear of insecurity, fear of being a loser and now you want me to be afraid of a number?"

“You will never change, you never listens to me..you are the same kid..", said my unimaginative dad.

I walked out, before that scene transformed into some boring drama. I practiced the art of walkouts. They are non-confrontational and non-violent. That didnt mean that I was running away from the problem. On the contrary, I was running towards it. The solution is always in my solitude and peace.

It is a common misconception that parents wants their kids to be happy. Parents simulate the life of their kids in their mind which runs software worthy of DOS systems.Age old software programmed for age old systems. The result of that simulation is always 'their' happiness looking at their kid’s 'to be' lives and 'to be' happiness. They never want to lose that happiness, and society already constructed a huge library of 'guilt trips', 'threats’,’ emotional dialogues' for the parents to retain it. Guilt trips are powerful, they can transform a tiger in to a cat...just in minutes.It is a psychological warfare..pure and simple.

My dad was a veteran in those wars.

Chapter  4 :  Grave Digger.

Year : 1982.

place: a small town in Telugu nadu, formerly known as Andhra pradesh.

The first ever story you heard must always be from your mother. So was mine. I was 3 and at that time she was also my TV and a book.She told me the story of "The Roots" which I listened with horror. I took my first step in the book world; thru a story about slavery, misery, blood, violence and inhumanity.

That terrified me for some time and interesting to note that, that might be the reason why I was more attracted to african-american culture, when my peers turned out to be closet racists.

It is difficult to remember the scenes of your childhood, but you get one or two images and then fill the gaps with the knowledge you earned as you grew up.I just want to say this because I dont want anyone of you to come to me as say that its impossible to remember and all that 'critic' crap.

My mother had a perfect life: perfect husband, perfect family, enough money to save, radio to listen, me, good friends etc. I dont remember any fights or controversies or even any disgrunts in the family. She used to meet her parents  pretty regularly and no in-laws to fight and harass. What else would a 1982 middle class moderately educated married telugu indian woman want? She had everything.

So, it kind of surprised me when I woke up, during the middle of the night, as I felt some wetness on my cheek. My mother was crying silently. The silent cry -- the cry only for herself, not for attention. That was the first time I saw my mother crying and it wasn’t the last. I think I went back to sleep again.

From the next day onwards, I noticed kind of dramatic change in her.Earlier, she used to take care of her looks, and she used to wear beautiful saris, used to spend lot of time before the mirror. She was in love with her own beauty. But, looked like everything changed. She became a shadow of her former self. The glow and brightness was gone.She ate less and less..

She started hugging me and kissing me and crying..more and more.She appeared more afraid and fearful. A child spends most of the time with its mother..and the change in her would  definitely effect it.

This went on for a month or so..and then one night...

I still remember the night.She woke me up in the middle of the night..and took me out to the front porch. It was dark outside and the sound of horny crickets was the only sound. She put me in her lap and started swaying me..crying uncontrollably.

 " I love u ra kanna..I love you more than my life"

 " amma, why r u saying that?"

She cried more..kissing me..and the tears tasted salty. I was confused..and I cried too.

" what is happening?", I asked her.

No response. She was in her world of sadness.She looked at me with her beautiful eyes..as if she wanted to capture the image of my face.

It frightened me a bit..and then she started swaying me as if she wanted me to sleep. I didnt know that would be the last time I would see her.So, I slept.

Mothers lap ..the best bed in the whole world.

The next morning, all hell broke loose. My mother went missing.

Police came, people started visiting my father..it was the drama the bored society was looking for.

They looked at me sympathetically. But, who would understand my agony? The agony of abandonment, losing your best friend, the only person in the world.

she was the world for me.

The time became my worst enemy in short-term and became be my best friend in longterm.Time itself has no emotions and sympathy. It is cold.

Chapter 5 : A Shouting Match

I now have too much time in my hands. Preemptive walkouts helped with the pests pestering me about marriage

 Chapter in Progress

Chapter 6 : The Mind Game

After that argument with my Dad, I went into a kind of mini depression. Part of the problem is that, I was left alone in the house, and this usually leads me into boredom…unless  I have a good movie to watch or a good book to read.

Time said 7pm.

Dad lived in the same small town and in the same house all his post-marriage life. I grew up in this same town till I was 12.

So, I knew how this town works. 7pm is the time when people come home to work and mosquitoes come out of their homes for work. It is the time TV’s starts blasting with ridiculous sound and mosquito’s starts sucking your blood, the same mosquitoes which gave me malaria when I was a kid.No matter what they do, somehow, people weren't able to solve the problem. They even dropped some exotic fish into the drainage system, for the fish to eat the larvae. It didn’t work out. I used to think that someone ate those fish.

So, 7pm it was. I was watching TV9 news when the first mosquito bit me and ended my embargo against blood donation to non-humans. It pissed me off to no end. Was it possible that mosquitoes became resistant to mosquito coils? God knows.

I got up and went to the front porch. The sun already set, but the red hue was still there. That scene always used to give me anxiety, as if the day was over, and as if one more day closer to death. Not only that, it makes me think about the all the creative ways I came up with to waste the day, while all the humanity is working hard in the farms and offices. Shit. It was shitty inside and shitty outside. I get crazy ideas during these times. I got one. I wanted to go back to my past and dig up stuff, this time the physical stuff like my notes, books and photos.I think, this decision turned out to be the turning point in life, the source of my obsession for the next one year. The decision opened a Pandora box of questions and mysteries, which almost swallowed by soul. I swear to you, nothing about what I am going to say is a fabrication, even though; it might look fantastic at first glance.I will try to narrate the story with as much less drama as possible and as straight as possible.

Now, I gotta tell you, my dad was not a hoarder. But, he had this tendency (he still do) of not throwing away some stuff. He keeps most of the junk, including the age-old Hindu news papers. I was sure my dad would have saved all my stuff. The usual place all the stuff goes was our ‘ataka’, a huge concrete closet built under the ceiling. I got a torch light and with extreme difficulty, climbed it. Everything was neatly placed in their respective places.

I went to the heart of the ataka, a huge iron box in which we all store our stuff. I opened it and found many of my photos and other childhood home work books. I also a found a note book which contained a love letter (book) I wrote to a girl once. I was ecstatic, as I was digging into memories, both psychologically and physically. Each one triggered other one. I found some letters, my toy train, some old magazines and also some of my tin tin books. Then I found the treasure of my childhood – The penguin series complete Sherlock holmes. As I lifted that huge book, I found another crumpled small note book under it. Obviously, it must have been printed almost 30 years back. I didn't care much about that book, as I was completely absorbed in Sherlock Holmes . I was shifting throw the Sherlock holmes, but my gaze went back to the crumpled note book.

Tv9 started their ridiculous, but highly popular program, which reenact real murders, intercepted with real putrefied dead bodies. I love to hate that program and so the re-sound irritated me a bit. But the joy of finding my Sherlock Holmes was too much. I shifted through the big four and then came the Hound of Baskerville. But, again my gaze instinctively shifted to that old crumpled note book. It was begging for my attention. The torch light was focused on Sherlock, so I focused it on that crumpled note book and kind of zoomed in my eyes. I saw a small name printed on that book, and it was mother’s name, the same mother who left us. Then I instinctively reached that book and then suddenly, out of no where, I heard a noise, and felt a small movement. The torch was still focused on that notebook, and I stood still. Not even a single movement, including my gaze. I believe that I am a rational person and that too an atheist. So, ghosts and gods are out of question. I knew that must most probably be some rats, like they show in the ‘bow’ shots at the beginning of B-grade horror movies. I am a movie buff and I have seen thousands of movies and most of the horror movies. But, very few times I felt that, such and such horrible thing would happen to me. That is one of the attractions of the mainstream horror movies.It is like that Airplane accident you heard, but never believed that such thing could ever happen to you. The fact of the matter is – even the person on that plane, on that fateful day, would have never thought in million years that he was going to die on that day. His only thought would be, ‘Shit! This is not happening to me” . That was my Japanese horror moment.

The problem is the darkness. The darkness, which produced terror in human beings, but at the same time a very natural phenomena for all the animals. Fear comes from the imaginative mind of the man. The problem is not in the darkness, if you dig deeper.It is in the question -- “what lies in that darkness?”. The fear of losing your job, love, life  are all those imaginative, probably non-existing simulations of that dark corner in your mind.  A person like David lynch or Kafka or del tero, may give you some hint of what might lie in that darkness, if you for some unfortunate reason ask them that question, and I guarantee you that their answers would make you ponder about  suicide . If you appreciate me and my philosophy, then please don’t go any further as I don’t deserve that. One of the reason is that, practicals are all together a different system from the theory, and at that moment, I was standing at the center of reality and practicality,and my theory was of no use except to impress some bimbos or to feel that ‘I know all shit’ kind of self-importance and exaggerated self –esteem.
 

At the same instance, I noticed a peculiar smell, which I had no record of; in the database of smells in my brain.The smell was not a stinker though. It had a tinge of sweet sour mix. I knew my mind was playing games with me and my logical brain wanted me to search for the source of that noise and smell.  Then, my neurons fired and I remembered a scene from one of the best horror movies ever made, ‘The others’. Once that scene crossed my mind, the man in me became a hybrid chicken. The problem changed a bit and it was not the darkness, but it was the light. If I didn’t have a light, I wouldn’t see anything. Problem solved. That was my chicken scared shit logic.

Then, I did something I wouldn’t confess even to my closest friends. It was shameful. I switched off the light…counted… 1..2….3 and then took that crumpled book and jumped down, and ran to the hall. At the exact instance I touched that book; I noticed a certain kind of wetness on my wrist.  I sat in the hall, with my heart beating super fast, and looked at my wrist and I got the last glimpse of  the wetness becoming dry.   I took slow deep breaths and after 5 minutes, calmed down.

Then I started laughing like crazy. Here I was; a rational, brave, and intelligent man; ran away like some scared chicken, because my mind played games on me. My ears lied, my skin lied and finally my eyes lied; only because of my over imaginative brain. I gotta tell you, that this imagination is double edged topaz blade. That was the first time I learned that walking is not same as talking.

I started reading random pages in that crumpled note book, and all I saw was some hanuman chalisas and some other Hindu devotional lyrics. What a disappointment! All this drama, for what? Nothing. I thought.

But, the book looked valuable to me, not for its contents, but, as an item of my mother’s.

I was in a good mood though. The thought of reading “The Hound of Baskerville” in the night, made me giddy, just like a kid.

I went out for a walk, as I needed fresh air.

Chapter 7 : The Mysteries of the Night Sky

When I came back, my dad was already there, waiting for me. He tried to sniff any trace of cigarettes or alcohol smells coming from me. He does such things, not openly, but taking great care so that I wouldn’t notice that. But, I always notice it and that shit is not subtle.

He brought 2 packets of excellently made chicken biryani and we ate it , while discussing the then current political shit of a system. His final words about it were always, “Not even god can reform this system”.

Dad is an early to sleep and early to rise kind of a person. Before retiring to bed,

He said, “Promise me something”

“Shit..not again”, I thought, and replied,”what?”.

“Promise me first”

“how can I promise If I don’t know what you are talking about”

“No. promise me first”

If he started the scene with such kind of dramatic statements, then it must be something important.

“Okay”, I replied, as I won some medals in the dept of ‘Not keeping promises'

“Please sleep early”

“That’s it?”

“ya, that’s it”, he curtly replied and left to his room.

I broke in to smile with relief and said to myself, “Getting old, I guess”. He looked fitter than me though.

He still refuses to accept that I inherited lot of traits from my mother’s side.

We are less of a human beings and more of a nosferatus – we get activated in the night.

After catching some national geographic midnight masala with horny lions, while eating a can of tutty frutti; I went to bed with my “Sherlock Holmes” and started reading The hound.

It didn’t age at all, as suspenseful and taut as before. It was 2 am when I finished it.

I felt suffocated a bit and bored; so I took a torch light, cigs and my mother’s book and went upstairs.

The cool breeze refreshed me. The crickets were crying like crazy. The sky was beautiful with all its stars and no trace of the moon. I sat down and looked at the stars. I remembered my childhood, spending hours looking at the moon less night sky admiring its beauty and mysteries behind it.

“Back to base”, I muttered.

Then I lit up the gold flake king size, and lay down on my back, and started watching the sky.

 -- continued here

 

    

About Censorship, the nemesis of Freedom of Speech

I also want to add that, the concept of Freedom of speech came in to being, mainly, not only for the mainstream, but more importantly for the people who lives on outer edges of the society.So, the argument using  "Moral Majority" never work out here. In fact, it was there to allow for the minority  to shout back.

My Review of Isha yoga

One of my relative who is spiritually inclined ,forced me to come to isha class with him. I went to the first class and liked what I saw. As an atheist, it was nice to see yoga and meditation being taught with the use of science instead of religion and mysticism.

Whenever you meet these non-profit social work based organisations, the first test is the money test. Tell them that you have no money. If they refuse, then its good 4 u. You dont need them and they must be totally bogus..just like 'art of living'. I put them to test and they passed, as they offered installments at  reduced price. Ofcourse, I had no money either.

Okay, the first day went like like this.

who are u?
I am my consciousness.
no.anyone else.blah.blah..blah..and you are your consciousness.
I just said that
no u didnt.
no ..i did.
no..u didnt.

The teacher gets pissed off if you already knew the answers, as she already prepared a half-hour speech to lead us into that answer. There must be certain amount of narcissim to be in the position. Infact, I believe that all the so called famous guru's are hardcore narcissists.These narcissists always start a belief system, and the sheep has to follow it without questioning.I have to agree though, that Isha classes allow certain amount of questions and arguments, but in the end, they don't agree with you even though your argument is more logical. They say that it is experiential rather than logical. For me, questioning is a very fundamental aspect of being human being.Thats where human beings got seperated from republicans and right wingers.Some of the best gurus and human beings are those about whom you would have never heard off.Thats the irony.

I used to be totally intolerant to the belief systems. But, now, things changed a bit and I feel that there is something good in everything. Get the good thing and throw away the bad stuff..using cold logic or just by intuition.But, never approach any belief system when you are depressed. They will obviously provide you with temporary relief....but it acts more like a cocaine, which I believe is a dangerous drug, and make you want it again and again....ever heard of Karl Marx, who said 'Religion is the opium of the masses'.Agree to disagree, if you want to, but, Christian evangelists work in that way by exploiting sad people.


So,

The pros:

1. The concept of living in the moment. They say that the moment you are living in right now is inevitable. The americans in the class, seemed to have a huge problem with the word 'inevitable'.They argued that the future could be changed and I think the word got lost in translation. The moment is something that lives on the border of past,present and future..and if you try to change it, it would already be in the past..and you cannot change anything that happned in the past.right? since you cannot change THIS moment, it becomes inevitable. Thats it. So, if you cannot change the moment, then u have two choices. one, accept it and be happy or fight it and get angry or sad. What would u choose??

Obviously, you choose to be happy.This is such a simple but profound concept.This concept has the power to change lot of things in a person. The secret is in accepting the moment.

You are right now reading this sentence, mother fucker.Now, you saw this and you got angry or embarrssed. But, look at it this way, whats the purpose of your anger?? You are just screwing up your 3 mins of your time getting angry, instead of reading furthur with a happy mind.The fact that you saw that sentence would not change and even the fact that I wrote that would not change. So, given a choice of being happy or sad,you choose the negative emotion instincitvely.Now, at this moment, while you are reading this sentence, why dont u choose to be happy. Why not?? I ask you.

How about all the revolutions and civil right movements, which changed the world for better and which had anger as its main source. The fact of the matter is -- anger is there for a good evolutionary reason -- to protect yourself. But, can it be possible that you have no anger and protest at the same time. Good question. I have no answer, but, I believe that any long term movement cannot be run on anger alone.Anger must be there as a starting point, not the middle or end point. You gotta sit, write stuff and have discussions etc with a cool mind. Right?? But, in the purview of a family, I can 100% say that anger is definitely a negative emotion which produced  suffering to lot of people.

2.The concept that you are a nobody. You are not your body. You are not your mind. You are a nobody. If you are a nobody, then why are u always worrying about body and mind and pain and death?? Pain necessarily dosent mean that you have to suffer. Jesus chirst was on the cross with lot of pain ..but he didnt suffer because he loved the world. Of course, christians disagree with that.

In your life, you are always playing roles..as a son, wife or CEO etc. The problem is that, people think that they ARE those roles. Thats why they suffer. The fact is that, they are just playing those roles. You are just an actor. Once you realise that, you will be free of suffering.

Actually, I came to those conclusions many times before using mushrooms.This surely shows (to the world) that mushroom is not some useless drug, it is a mind-opener, atleast temporarily.

3.When it comes to food, listen to you body than mind. I agree.

4. The fact that u like or dislike an external stimuli is your karma.
Its better not to have that karma at all. I have some problem with that concept.

5. There is no god as such..whatever you are praying to is just energy which we all are made off.

6. Sadguru (the head of the organisation) is knowledgable, clever and a great story teller..and above all he is a great businessman.

 Cons:

1. The volunters looked like robots...mesmerized by sadhguru..which actualy scared me. Everything was soo professional and exact..

2. Emphasis was more on the person than the message

3. They started pooja and all that Sanskrit chanting which bored me.

4. Just by observing your breath, sadguru can tell your past, future and present. You fking kidding me??

5.You have to unlearn every thing u learnt in life. Knowledge leads to suffering.This is total BS.

6.There is a difference between fact and truth.Like blind belief??

7.If we follow sadhguru message, there can never be capitalism. but at the same time sadguru has a special program to help these business people to effectively run their business..

8. They want world peace..but wont protest wars. they want to change one person at a time...lol

9. The teacher talks like a carbon copy of sadhguru as if she lost her own will and mind. Whatever he says is right. They have this method of teaching..where they ask lot of questions before moving in to a concept.
so, a huge problem if some one anwers them.They think that they are on a moral and knowlegde highground than you.

10. "please see", "isnt it so?" ...they always use the same words sadhguru uses..including his smile.

11. Dhaynalinga....my ass!

12. You are not supposed to tell any one the kriya as you may go crazy. what??

13. The  'cult' bells rang crazy in my head

I came to conclusion about all these things long time before using science, except living in the moment.

In one sentence, it is all about being aware and conscious...and meaning of which the materialistic world can never understand. Being conscious is a beautiful thing....your inner world cannot be shattered because of outside events. There are moments when I am aware of myself and conscious of who I am. Funny thing is that, I found that again during sex on weed.The few seconds of organsm are the few seconds of awareness you get during the day.Please dont try to put the orgasm in the taboo shelf.(That is one more thing which always used to bug me..why talking about sex is such a taboo thing when everyone else do it. I believe orgasm is in competition with the religion and the censorship has its roots in supressing women...wait...it needs a bigger article) Weed gives a sense of half awareness..(unlike mushrooms which just take control of your brain and produces ego death) ..where u become aware of your heart beat to everything else in your body. It
makes u introspective. It slows everything down. Now, sex is difficult on weed ..but if somehow u manage, it would be very pleasurable.The fact that you love your partner more on weed also helps. Since everything goes in slow motion on weed, even the organsm goes in slow motion.

Its like neo watching the bullet shot at him.(I believe that the philosophy of matrix movie is the philosophy of mushrooms. Replace the machines with your brain) You not only experience it in slow motion but also conscious of it.I think, this is called ecstacy or bliss. Experiencing something without being conscious (sometimes) is not pleasurable to me..and during those times, I felt like as if I reached a higher state and I like there. Now, don't get angry with me, as I made you embarrassed for even reading the blog. I want you to ask yourself, "Why am I embarrassed or feigning embarrasment?"...and the only answer you come up is "because I was taught to be". Good logic and good night. ;)

Some people say that being on weed is not real. But, I ask you, what is real?? If you take a situation and ask people to describe it, every one would describe it in a different way. If you are on weed though, every one may come to the same conclusion -- for example, they may reject that situation and just say everything is love.

So, If you are aware all the time,then, you not only act in your movie of life but also watch it as an audience. I like what the isha teacher said about it..that your life is like a suspense thriller, and you would be pissed off if someone is telling it before hand, isnt it so?? The suspense thriller has soo many unexpected turns in it..and you wish that it would have soo many turns yourself..then why not with your life..why cant your life be like an organic suspense thriller instead of a boring 'janaganamana' everyday. Excellent point.

We all know that the protagonsist die in the end, but u still enjoy the movie. (Actually u wont die...since ur a nobody in the first place). The key is in being aware and aware.

How to become aware in legal and non-taboo way. I will give it you for free. Just run or excercise like crazy for 5 mintues. Then fall down or sit down exhausted...and relax...and then take breaths a little bit slower than usual..and observe it. Observe (not study) how the air is supplying you life..the purpose of it is to eliminate all the clutter in your brain....then u may find yourself..for a few seconds..

if not, I know one sure fire method, which I already spoke about here.Meditation, I believe, is non-logical.So I guess, consciously calming your mind may not work.It like stopping the train by pulling the window towards you instead of pulling the chain.I guess, you need to make your brain chaotic and then drop. But, I may be completly wrong.

In conclusion, Isha is  the same shit in a new bottle..a rather nice scientific looking bottle.Some how, I am convinced that I need to look furthur in to this inner science ( thats what he calls it). Because I used to think that certain things like human mind and soul can mostly be understood from within..because its YOUR mind and soul.

If it costs like 100 bucks, then give it a shot.

Note : Osho (rajneesh) said the same thing many years back what Isha is teaching these days.