chaotic order

Yesterday night, I revisited a book -, a series of dialogues by David Bohm and J. Krishnamurti entitled "The ending of time". No two men could have been so diametrically opposite in their thinking, vocation and approach to life; but as chance would have it - in the summer of 1965, at Saanen, Switzerland - these two men got together as a part of a group having discussions on life, consciousness and its objective manifestation. It was evident to those who were present there that something phenomenal was taking place , and there was a definitive need to bring the both of them together alone , giving them space and time to unwrap their perspectives on life, knowledge and human condition. Thus was born the JK-Bohm dialogues. Two sharp, incisive, sensitive, deep minds - one, an iconoclastic philosopher ; and the other- a living genius in the field of quantum physics - trying to investigate into human predicament without any prejudices or leanings. It had been twenty years since t

It has been a while that I written about a movie. Not that I have not been keeping abreast of my second love ( you know the first), but not been able to devote as much time to it as I would have liked - call it professional rigor or work life - whichever seems fancier to you. So today morning - a gorgeous Spring day in Atlanta - after I finished my customary weekend activities, I flicked through my list in Netflix hoping to slide down my Sofa with a packet of Potato chips, water and my digital writing app on my phone (to take down my impressions, notes, appreciations, sarcasm - whatever it may be) - to watch a "good movie". I was literally taken aback by the sheer number of movies in my wish list - some 200 odd films that I have added over the last six months. As I reviewed, I wasn't sure why some movies were on the list at all in the first place. There must have been definitely something about it that would have prompted me to add it when I did, but at this distance,

Adi Shankara sings with profound anguish these deep words of wisdom in his philosophical masterpiece "Bhaja Govindam". "PUNARAPI JANANAM PUNARAPI MARANAM PUNARAPI JANANEE- JATARE SAYANAM IHA SAMSAARE BAHU-DUSTAARE KRIPAYAA(A)PAARE PAAHI MURARE.." I was sitting in the Charlotte-Douglas Airport yesterday morning, making notes on this verse for an essay that I writing, when I was interrupted by an voice sitting beside me. He was an young Indian , with prematurely greyish white hair, clad in immaculate black suit with a glittering brown leather laptop case resting nearing his legs. He was saying: " Interesting that you are actually studying this poem. Is this not a poem by one of those Acharya's who lived in India centuries ago, who institutionalized Hindu religion in four corners of India. My wife keeps listening to this song every day morning sung in the voice of old singer named MS Subbu or something. It is a morning ritual for her. She puts it on

Evolutionary "contingency" - Darwin's heritage In many ways 1859 was a seminal, epochal year in Human history. Charles Darwin published his “origin of species”, after ruminating over it for nearly twenty years. He never meant it to be a purely “scientific” book, but a general account of what he considered to be evidence for natural selection and its effect on growth or evolution of species. The purpose of his book was to lay the foundations and necessary proof for a “Creator-less” design of human life, which meant a complete severance, abnegation of a cherished belief held over millennia. Only 1250 copies got printed, and most of them were distributed, or gifted to scientists, friends and libraries. Left to himself, one wonders, if Darwin would have ever gotten to take his work to the Printer - he was forced to – because his colleague and friend Alfred Russell Wallace was perilously close to usurping the grand theory that he had conjured over decades of observation an

A young lady was brutally raped, beaten and violated with perverse intensity, beyond the farthest limits of irrational human behavior. Her intestines were pulled out with a rod,; penetrated multiple times; every known and visible part of her frail , stunned body was broken, bruised and torn beyond repair or medical help ; her body thrown out to die on a pavement from a moving bus like a piece of putrid flesh - all this without an iota of compunction, mercy or even the slightest tinge of remorse in the minds and hearts of those young men - who now face a death sentence in Tihar jail. This is not only about rape. It is about the quality of a Human mind that can descend to such levels of depravity. As I watched the controversial documentary - what stuck me was the composure of the man who justified his act along with his friends. He was very clear in his mind that the young girl deserved what she got. His reasoning was not based on any rational system of thinking, or an ideology, not

“Leaving Las Vegas” - a study in nihilism I have often wondered why art forms, and to a large extent, society in general, treats an alcoholic with an melancholic sympathy; looks upon him with a kind of motherly vulnerability, when we never think of according such curtsies to a smoker, or any other drug abuser. Have you ever heard of any jinxed, unrequited lover, smoking or drugging themselves to a sublimely artistic suicide? I haven’t, or it is extremely rare? I guess, there is nothing "romantic" about such acts. Unlike an alcoholic, who has found reams of poems and rich prose devoted to his escapades and sorrowful destiny, No bard, novelist, dramatist or film maker has ever elevated any other form of addiction (with a few exceptions, of course) to a pedestal where they can be viewed sympathetically or with an artistic eye. The archetypal alcoholic male with his stubby beard, shabby clothes, droopy eyes, slurring voice, unsteady steps; holding a glass or bottle reflecting

Temperature in Atlanta, for most part this week has been below zero. I guess this is first time this season that the presence of winter is making itself felt. In the mornings when I go out for a Swim, there is hardly anybody walking on the streets. Even those in cars seems to be covering their head with Hoodies (God knows why??). The chatter in the Health club is all about negotiating this "extreme" climate. Funny, though!!. This is hardly a ferocious winter when one compares it to other parts of US. Yet, I guess, people get acclimatized to local conditions, and tend to exaggerate them beyond proportion. Normally, I walk through my office buildings to get to other side where the Health club is located; and it is my practice (or more of a fond ritual..) that I stop at the further end of the building to talk for a few minutes with a very pleasant lady who works as security in-charge at that gate. She has good passion for her job, and she smiles and greets almost everyone wh