chaotic order

One of the compelling reasons for the presence of a “self” that is beyond the notion of change, happens to be the very fact of our physical existence and continuance. Pick a picture from one’s childhood, adolescence, youth or middle age and scrutinize the physical similarities. Except for a vague, fuzzy sense of resemblance – there is nothing that is common in the bodily mutation of oneself. Yet, we preserve, by a miracle, so to speak; the distinct identity of “My body “-amidst all this prolific, sometimes catastrophic changes it has undergone. Wherefrom does this organic unity come from? What is the overwhelming thread of wholesomeness that we carry within ourselves, as a deep self-evident truth of an individual body maintaining its state of homeostasis? Again, the “I” ness that hums in the background of our existential singularity is not to be confused with the thought structure that we carefully nurture. A moment’s reflection will convince us of shallow premises and the sheer

The origin of the “Self” is shrouded in mystery. And Education has not helped in unearthing the beginnings of it. In fact, one of the most intriguing aspects of our upbringing is the subversive attitude to knowing ourselves. It is never made clear to us who we actually are. What is this substratum that we call “I” or “me”? In the ever-changing panorama of our personal lives, we adorn so many different roles, attach ourselves to a countless different persona’s, yet we are never allowed to get to the bottom of this distinct feeling of oneness that seems to be pervade our mutable organismic state. There is this thread of conscious continuity that weaves the multiple experiences together into a pattern of“ self-hood ” , that somehow remains distinct from the outwardly behavior and roles. What we call as character or personality has nothing to do with it, and are merely pieces of memory stitched together by education, imitation and indoctrination in society. The “I” that I am talking abou

I have always been intrigued by relationships. In a society that is so censorious of any attachment that is even slightly deviant from established norms, it is difficult to give vent to the throes of passion and yearning that could naturall y arise in ones heart. Is age an impediment, will the formal structure of relationships prove to be a insurmountable barrier, Will we be transgressing the unwritten laws of ethical behavior by succumbing to the raw dictates of biological necessity.... Will Society label a relationship a "taboo", if it does not understand the nature and quality of the attraction?. These are some of the disturbing questions that "Adore" - the movie explores with a great deal of sensitivity. Shot in the sun dappled beaches of New south Wales , Australia - the story revolves around two childhood friends who literally grow up in the lap of the blue ocean waves, drenched in its ebbs and flows; blossoming into two beautiful mature ladies; mothers of tw

One of the puzzling ideas in religion is the process of Enlightenment. In every conceivable religious form, there has always been this deep veneration of Men and Women who have supposedly attained the heights of spiritual progress - the merging of oneself with God. They are considered to be the perfect specimens of Human kind; able to liberate themselves from the gross manifestations of matter into the elusive, misty and subtle echelons of Godhead. They have been given vested with unmitigated authenticity and authority to chart the path that mankind must travel to attain what they themselves have seen, experienced as the ultimate possible bliss in this Human existence. Their knowledge is said to be not of this world, but descends into them from a spirit that is far removed from the mundane trivialities that govern it. They are in short, christened as the apostles of Religion and torchbearers of the mission that Man has to fulfill in the scheme of things…. Ironically though, even

If I were to scan my autobiographical memory to regress to a point when I first became conscious of “GOD”; I have to confess that I do not know. But I am fairly certain that I was not born with that idea. My childhood memories are ones of general “well-being” and nothing more than that. And I am sure, that many of my readers will concur with me on that. As a child, I am sure, I cried a lot when in distress, and smiled uninhibitedly  when caressed, and do not remember feeling guilty of either. Each emotion was played out with equally ferocious intensity with the gay abandon of a pulsating organism. I do not also remember recognizing a Mind/Body dichotomy arising in me at the tender age. All that prevailed then were a series of biological urges and its immediate satisfaction; a slow understanding of bare emotions that helped me to survive; and a steady habituation of words that formed around the general contour of sensory perceptions… So the question then is, when and how did I get