Being Thoughtless

I don’t like thinking anymore, and so stopped it. Yes you read it right. I have stopped thinking. There are no similar-sounding verbs to “thinking”, still for those with impaired hearing, or exaggerated disbelief on their faces, I repeat – I STOPPED THINKING!!

I know what the Indian philosophy/yoga types reading this stuff are thinking. They are imagining the descendants of Ekta Kapoor, three hundred years from now, making a television serial on me, the saint who stopped thinking – thoughtlessanand baba (the pun is, of course, intended), in which the last episode shows my soul, portrayed as thin yellow glowing gelatin-like ellipse, merging with another much larger yellow glowing gelatin-like ellipse, obviously representing the God’s soul – paramatma. (Disclaimer: ellipses could easily be ellipsoids, depending on the advancements in television technology of the time) But nothing like that has happened – I have no gelatin around me right now, and the last ellipse I saw was Yuvraj Singh’s wagon wheel, digitally representing the Kingston stadium, where India defeated West Indies. Now that you have pained your mind enough deciphering the large comma-studded sentences above, I’m sure some of you might like to stop thinking. And in somewhat similar fashion I stopped thinking. Sorry to disappoint the glowing-gelatin-ellipse-lovers.

Oh! and I don’t love Ekta Kapoor. I’m thought-less, not mad.

However, the thoughtlessanand baba has economic value. I am sure friends, families, parents of some of you seek or have sought some sort of spiritual support from some sort of spiritual beings. The world needs babas. From management to spirituality you need the babas. And like in spirituality, so in managment, the less the baba thinks the better he/she is. So the world surely needs a thoughtlessanand baba. And for you, I am sure you would be more comfortable with your friends, families, or parents seeking support from a modern baba like me, than the traditional saffron clad ones. See I sold it to you as well. I know you are thinking where does the “economic” part come from. Well the thoughtlessanand baba, like all other babas, wont charge a fee. He’d only help grow the pie. With less thought there is more pie. Now let the Peter Drucker‘s of the world explain that to you. And if you dont like the jargon-filled books, and still need to get the “less thought, more pie” funda – watch the waitress, the movie I mean.

For those who still doubts the truthfulness of this post, I am sure this post itslef must convince you that I have stopped thinking ЁЯШЙ

PS: I did consider “Surrealanand Baba” as the branding, but that’s a bit too much disoriented for people seeking spiritual help. Being inconsiderate is something they are anyways expecting.

Retro Music

Today is my retro music day. Have been listening to some happy retro songs… very innocent and very sweet compared to the modern happy songs…. so here are the two I picked up for posting here:

From the movie Howrah Bridge, with Ashok kumar and the lovely Madhubala. Look at Madhubala’s expressions, and tell me who else can do that anymore ЁЯЩВ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLNZEwwGO9Y

This is a rare video of the song being recorded by O P Nayar, with Asha Bhosale and Mohammad Rahi:

And, this is one of my favorite non-rock retro songs from the west. Again, innocent, sweet and happy.

I sometimes miss the Wednesday and Friday 8:00 pm chitrahar ЁЯША

Creation Hymn – Rigveda

I consider the ancient tradition of knowledge in India, the most profound academic tradition ever. One of the basic characters of this tradition, is the unquestioned belief in The Veda as the ultimate source of knowledge. And so, I naturally tend to attribute the success of the tradition to The Veda.

Vedas are not a set of books containing a set of facts. They are a doorway into the vast human capability of knowing beyond what the organs can sense and the mind can think. They are a method that gives humans the great capability to act beyond ones physical limitations, to fulfill ones desire, to overcome what is destined. They are a song capable of evoking those human emotions which open the doors to bliss. Thus, they validate the divinity of humans, and proclaim the supremacy of human endeavor over any other force in nature.

They are an inquiry into the nature of truth itself. They are like a finger pointing towards something that can be perceived but not said. They are a necklace of pearls of wisdom, knitted together by an invisible thread. If you perceive the invisible thread, you know that it is a necklace. If you don’t, they sound to you absurd pieces of poetry somehow put together. This is the same invisible thread which connects two human beings, which enable one human being to empathize with another human being. Therefor, it states emphatically “рдПрдХрдореН рд╕рддреН рд╡рд┐рдкреНрд░рд╛: рдмрд╣реБрдзрд╛ рд╡рджрдиреНрддрд┐” … the truth is one, wise men say it differently. Therefore, it welcomes with open arms, everything good coming from any direction… “рдЖ рдиреЛ рднрджреНрд░рд╛рдГ рдХреНрд░рддрд╡реЛ рдпрдиреНрддреБ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рддрдГ”.

For me, the Veda is not the truth. Whatever truth is, is the Veda.

And, the Sukta, which I like the most in The Veda, is the рдирд╛рд╕рджреАрдп рд╕реВрдХреНрдд, the creation hymn (Mantra 129, Mandala 10, Rigveda):

рдирд╛рд╕реСрджрд╛рд╕реАреТрдиреНрдиреЛ рд╕рджрд╛реСрд╕реАрддреНрддреТрджрд╛рдиреАрдВреТ рдирд╛рд╕реАреТрджреНрд░рдЬреЛреТ рдиреЛ рд╡реНрдпреЛреСрдорд╛ рдкреТрд░реЛ рдпрддреН ред
рдХрд┐рдорд╛рд╡реСрд░реАрд╡рдГреТ рдХреБрд╣реТ рдХрд╕реНрдпреТ рд╢рд░реНрдореТрдиреНрдирдореНрднрдГреТ рдХрд┐рдорд╛реСрд╕реАреТрджреНрдЧрд╣реСрдирдВ рдЧрднреАреТрд░рдореН редред

рди рдореГреТрддреНрдпреБрд░рд╛реСрд╕реАрджреТрдореГрддрдВреТ рди рддрд░реНрд╣рд┐реТ рди рд░рд╛рддреНрд░реНрдпрд╛реТ рдЕрд╣реНрдиреС рдЖрд╕реАрддреНрдкреНрд░рдХреЗреТрддрдГ ред
рдЖрдиреАреСрджрд╡рд╛реТрддрдВ рд╕реНрд╡реТрдзрдпрд╛реТ рддрджреЗрдХрдВреТ рддрд╕реНрдорд╛реСрджреНрдзрд╛реТрдиреНрдпрдиреНрди рдкреТрд░рдГ рдХрд┐рдВ рдЪреТрдирд╛рд╕реС редред

рддрдореС рдЖрд╕реАреТрддреНрддрдореСрд╕рд╛ рдЧреВреТрд┤рдордЧреНрд░реЗреС рд╜рдкреНрд░рдХреЗреТрддрдВ рд╕реСрд▓рд┐реТрд▓рдВ рд╕рд░реНрд╡реСрдорд╛ рдЗреТрджрдореН ред
рддреБреТрдЫреНрдпреЗрдирд╛реТрднреНрд╡рдкрд┐реСрд╣рд┐рддрдВреТ рдпрджрд╛рд╕реАреТрддреНрддрдкреСрд╕реТрд╕реНрддрдиреНрдореСрд╣рд┐реТрдирд╛рдЬрд╛реСрдпреТрддреИрдХреСрдореН редред

рдХрд╛рдореТрд╕реНрддрджрдЧреНрд░реЗреТ рд╕рдореСрд╡рд░реНрддреТрддрд╛рдзрд┐реТ рдордиреСрд╕реЛреТ рд░реЗрддрдГреС рдкреНрд░рдереТрдордВ рдпрджрд╛рд╕реАреСрддреН ред
рд╕реТрддреЛ рдмрдиреНрдзреБреТрдорд╕реСрддрд┐реТ рдирд┐рд░реСрд╡рд┐рдиреНрджрдиреНрд╣реГреТрджрд┐ рдкреНрд░реТрддреАрд╖реНрдпрд╛реС рдХреТрд╡рдпреЛреС рдордиреАреТрд╖рд╛ редред

рддрд┐реСрд░реТрд╢реНрдЪреАрдиреЛреТ рд╡рд┐рддреСрддреЛ рд░реТрд╢реНрдорд┐рд░реЗреСрд╖рд╛рдореТрдзрдГ рд╕реНрд╡рд┐реСрджрд╛реТрд╕реАрейрджреБреТрдкрд░рд┐реС рд╕реНрд╡рд┐рджрд╛рд╕реАрейрддреН ред
рд░реЗреСрддреЛреТрдзрд╛ рдЖреСрд╕рдиреНрдорд╣рд┐реТрдорд╛рдиреС рдЖрд╕рдиреНрд╕реНрд╡реТрдзрд╛ рдЕреТрд╡рд╕реНрддрд╛реТрддреНрдкреНрд░рдпреСрддрд┐рдГ рдкреТрд░рд╕реНрддрд╛реСрддреН редред

рдХреЛ рдЕреТрджреНрдзрд╛ рд╡реЗреСрджреТ рдХ рдЗреТрд╣ рдкреНрд░ рд╡реЛреСрдЪреТрддреНрдХреБрддреТ рдЖрдЬрд╛реСрддрд╛реТ рдХреБрддреС рдЗреТрдпрдВ рд╡рд┐рд╕реГреСрд╖реНрдЯрд┐рдГ ред
рдЕреТрд░реНрд╡рд╛рдЧреНрджреЗреТрд╡рд╛ рдЕреТрд╕реНрдп рд╡рд┐реТрд╕рд░реНрдЬреСрдиреЗреТрдирд╛рдерд╛реТ рдХреЛ рд╡реЗреСрджреТ рдпрддреС рдЖрдмреТрднреВрд╡реС редред

рдЗреТрдпрдВ рд╡рд┐рд╕реГреСрд╖реНрдЯрд┐реТрд░реНрдпрддреС рдЖрдмреТрднреВрд╡реТ рдпрджрд┐реС рд╡рд╛ рджреТрдзреЗ рдпрджрд┐реС рд╡рд╛реТ рди ред
рдпреЛ рдЕреТрд╕реНрдпрд╛рдзреНрдпреСрдХреНрд╖рдГ рдкрд░реТрдореЗ рд╡реНрдпреЛреСрдореТрдиреНрд╕реЛ рдЕреТрдЩреНрдЧ рд╡реЗреСрджреТ рдпрджрд┐реС рд╡рд╛реТ рди рд╡реЗрджреС редред

Translation by V. V. Raman, University of Rochester:

Not even nothing existed then
No air yet, nor a heaven.
Who encased and kept it where?
Was water in the darkness there?
Neither deathlessness nor decay
No, nor the rhythm of night and day:
The self-existent, with breath sans air:
That, and that alone was there.
Darkness was in darkness found
Like light-less water all around.
One emerged, with nothing on
It was from heat that this was born.
Into it, Desire, its way did find:
The primordial seed born of mind.
Sages know deep in the heart:
What exists is kin to what does not.
Across the void the cord was thrown,
The place of every thing was known.
Seed-sowers and powers now came by,
Impulse below and force on high.
Who really knows, and who can swear,
How creation came, when or where!
Even gods came after creation’s day,
Who really knows, who can truly say
When and how did creation start?
Did He do it? Or did He not?
Only He, up there, knows, maybe;
Or perhaps, not even He.

You can find alternative translations here: http://www.sacred-texts.com/hin/rigveda/rv10129.htm.

Another translation is this: http://www.astrojyoti.com/NasadiyaSuktam.htm.

The anvaya of the verses is here: http://titus.fkidg1.uni-frankfurt.de/texte/etcd/ind/aind/ved/rv/mt/rv966.htm#RV_RVS_10_129_(955).

The title song of the doordarshan serial “Bharat ek khoj” was Hindi poetic translation of this Sukta only: рд╕реГрд╖реНрдЯреА рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд╕рддреН рдирд╣реА рдерд╛.

This is best recital I could get: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyrXdEi8i_I&feature=player_embedded (Though there’s not so good pronunciation, and pretty superficial translation). I’d post a better recital if I found one.

And, if you have patience you can look for the 129 Sukta of the 10th Mandal in the entire of the Rig Veda here: http://www.astrojyoti.com/rigvedamp3part1.htm.

Arpan

I wrote poetry after a long time. And this time, unlike all other times, I am feeling very satisfied with it. I called it рдЕрд░реНрдкрдг, a dedication. Here’s the poem:
рдШрди рдЙрдкрд╡рди рдореЗ рдереЗ рдлреВрд▓ рдЪрд╛рд░ред
рдХреБрдЫ рд╕рдВрдЬреЛ рд▓рд┐рдП, рдХреБрдЫ рдмрд┐рдЦрд░ рдЧрдПред
рдЬреЛ рд╕рдВрдЬреЛ рд▓рд┐рдП, рд╡рд╣ рддреБрдЭреЗ рдЪрдвреЗред
рдЬреЛ рдмрд┐рдЦрд░ рдЧрдП, рд╡рд╣ рддреБрдЭреЗ рдорд┐рд▓реЗред

рдирдХреНрд╖рддреНрд░ рдкреНрд░рдЪреБрд░ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддреГрдд рдирдн рдореЗ,
рдХреБрдЫ рджрд┐рдЦреЗ рдФрд░ рдХреБрдЫ рдЫреБрдкреЗ рд░рд╣реЗред
рд╡реЗ рдЫреБрдкреЗ рддреБрдореНрд╣рд╛рд░реА рдЭреЛрд▓реА рдореЗ,
рдФ’ рджрд┐рдЦреЗ рддреБрдореНрд╣рд╛рд░реА рд░реМрдирдХ рд╕реЗред

рдмрд╣рддреА рдирджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдореЗ рдЬрд▓ рдЕрдкрд╛рд░,
рдХреБрдЫ рдмрд╣рд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛, рдХреБрдЫ рднрд░ рд▓рд╛рдпрд╛ред
рдЬреЛ рднрд░рд╛, рддреБрдЭ рд╣реА рдкрд░ рдЪрдврд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛,
рдЬреЛ рдмрд╣рд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╡рд╣ рддреБрдЭреЗ рдорд┐рд▓рд╛ред

рд╡рди рдкрде рдкрд░ рдХрдЯрдВрдХ рдмрд╣реБрдд рдорд┐рд▓реЗ,
рдХреБрдЫ рдЪреБрднреЗ рдФрд░ рдХреБрдЫ рдкрдбреЗ рд░рд╣реЗред
рдЬреЛ рд░рдХреНрдд рдмрд╣рд╛ рд╡рд╣ рддреЗрд░рд╛ рдерд╛,
рдЬреЛ рджрд░реНрдж рд╣реБрдЖ рд╡рд╣ рддреБрдЭреЗ рд╣реБрдЖред

рдЬреАрд╡рди рдкрде рдкрд░ рд╕реМ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдорд┐рд▓реЗ,
рдХреБрдЫ рд╕рд╛рде рд░рд╣реЗ, рдХреБрдЫ рдЪрд▓реЗ рдЧрдПред
рддреБрдЭрдХреЛ рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рд╣рд░ рд╕рд╛рдереА рдореЗ,
рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдореЗ рднреА, рдЬреЛ рдЪрд▓реЗ рдЧрдПред

рдЬреЛ рддреВрдиреЗ рдЦреБрдж рдХреЛ рддреГрдкреНрдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛,
рдЖрднрд╛рд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдХрд╛ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдорд╛рдиреВрдБ?
рдЬреЛ рджрд░реНрдж рдЦреБрдж рд╣реА рддреВ рднреЛрдЧ рд░рд╣рд╛,
рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдЦреЗрдж рдХрд░реВрдБ, рдФрд░ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рд░реЛрдЙрдБ?