Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts

Thursday, August 10, 2023

The Kalkiist Economic System

The Kalkiist Manifesto talks about a new economic system where everybody, no matter what the job, including women working at home doing household work, will make the same hourly wage that will be measured in time. So if you treat patients for eight hours, you just earned eight hours. If you took care of a child for eight hours, you just earned eight hours. You worked as prime minister or president for eight hours, you earned eight hours. When you go shopping you will similarly spend in hours, minutes and seconds. That medicine your doctor prescribed might cost you two minutes and thirty seconds. Your smartphone might cost you two hours.

The concept of Gross Domestic Product (GDP) in vogue today goes out the window. Instead we start talking about a Gross Domestic Requirement (GDR). If you think about it today almost all migration is economic. In the new Kalkiist economy, that need will evaporate. You would have the same living standard in a small village as in a big city. You would have the same living standard in the United States, as in Mexico.

The Kalkiist economy will be an Age Of Abundance in every part of the world.

What is the broader context? Look at the major religions. Islam is 1,400 years old. Christianity is 2,000 years old. Sikhism is 500 years old. Budhism in 2,500 years old. Judaism is 4,000 years old. If you ask a Hindu, all these dates fall within the current age called the Kali Yuga which has gone on for over 5,000 years now. The Bible also talks of "this age," "and the age to come," although they have not been given names.

The four ages come and go like the four seasons. Each lasts thousands of years.

Kali Purush, known as Satan by the Christians, Msulims and Jews, approached King Parikshit 5,000 years ago and asked for some more space where to live and was granted money and gold. And the Kali Yuga started. That is why ending the Kali Yuga is about creating a moneyless society.

King Parikshit was the son of Abhimanyu who died on the battlefield of the Mahabharata. Abhimanyu was the son of the valiant warrior Arjuna and nephew to Lord Krishna.

No character in either the Ramayana or the Mahabharata has been called a Hindu. Hindu is very much a term that came to use during this Kali Yuga. Instead the ancient scriptures talk of the Sanatana Dharma. It basically means the eternal religion. Because God is eternal, humanity's relationship with God has always been, always will be. No argument there.

Writing was invented after the onset of the Kali Yuga because people realized they were getting dumber and dumber. Otherwise in the previous ages people could simply store an entire epic in their heads and would pass them on from generation to generation orally.

So when the new age begins in about 20 years, the best of all four ages, humanity will find it is now more capable of spiritual knowledge, and God will say something new. When God Himself is ruling on earth directly ("Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as in heaven.") the debate about this or that religion goes out the window. It was never about religion, it was always about God. Yes, every religion that originated in the Kali Yuga will go join the mainstream of the Sanatana Dharma, the eternal religion. But it has to be noted that the Hindus of India suffer from the same affliction. The Kali Yuga has also made them less capable of knowing.

The imminent Satya Yuga will not be a repetition of the last Satya Yuga, the Age Of Truth. For one, the global population is much, much larger.

Lord Kalki is the Messiah the Jews have been waiting for. Lord Kalki is who the prayer Thy Kingdom Come has been addressed to for 2,000 years now in churches around the world. Prophet Muhammad himself is back but is unaware of his true identity. He is the long-awaited Imam Mehandi. Lord God will let him know his true identity at the right time. And Imam Mehadi will accept Lord Kalki's leadership, for He is Allah, or God.

But of course God can come to earth in human form. There are simply no limits to what God can do. You don't see Google's data center. You only see that tiny search box. God in human incarnation is like a shadow of the divine God who is omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient. That divine God is still very much there as Arjuna saw and got scared upon seeing and begged Lord Krishna to come back into human form.

Like the Koshi, Gandaki, and Sharada all go mix into the River Ganga, all the religions that were born in this Kali Yuga will go become one with the Santana Dharma. But that can only happen when the Kali Yuga has been ended. Right now Hindus and Muslims riot on simple issues like whether or not it is right and okay to worship God in statues of stone, so shallow are the understandings.

And that is why The Kalkiist Manifesto makes no mention of religion or God. It only talks of an alternative, highly attractive economic system that will replace the current one. I think the idea that everyone will have the same hourly wage is going to be highly attractive to masses around the world, regardless of religious background.

The idea is out as a book. Anybody can debate and discuss it. Nepal has been chosen as the pilot project country. All world will get to see the Kalkiist economy in action in Nepal. That should generate more debate and discussion. And then India and China will be next. Ultimately it will go to every country on earth. It is possible the United States might choose to adopt it last. You can see in the roadmap for adoption that free will is being respected to the utmost. People will choose the new economic system as acts of free will.

Many characters from the Bible and the Mahabharata are back and are human beings in different parts of the world. At the right time they will join efforts with the project.

This below is Lord God the Holy Father in human incarnation. He was Buddha 2,500 years ago, Krishna 5,000 years ago, Rama 7,000 years ago. His brother Laxman from 7,000 years ago who was Balaram 5,000 years ago also is back. Sita of 7,000 years ago and Radha of 5,000 years ago is also back.

I myself am Jesus come back as promised. My role is that of Hanuman 7,000 years ago. I am here to assist Lord Kalki every way I can. I am here to stand shoulder to shoulder with humanity and worship Lord God. Holy Father Vishnu, Holy Son Bramha, Holy Spirit Shiva. And indeed God is One, for the three exist in perfect harmony.

The prayer Thy Kingdom Come was taught by me 2,000 years ago. It is obviously not addressed to me but to Lord God the Holy Father. Lord Rama was King of Ayodhya 7,000 years ago. Lord Kalki will be king of all earth in about 20 years.

He is King. I am Commander.

The new age will last thousands of years.

Friday, February 17, 2023

Thursday, February 16, 2023

A World Marching Towards World War III

As hostilities intensify, Russian and Iranian cells are expected to take out lightly guarded soft targets in the U.S., including reservoirs, bridges, electrical grids, and fiber-optic cable systems – and insiders believe the attacks have already begun............ In the last three months, at least nine electrical substations have been attacked in North Carolina, Oregon, and Washington State, cutting power to tens of thousands of people and sparking a review of security standards for the national power grid.......... While three white supremacists recently pleaded guilty to conspiring to disrupt generating stations throughout America, key intelligence experts believe the domestic terrorists were following a path trail-blazed by Russian saboteurs.

How the Oscars and Grammys Thrive on the Lie of Meritocracy Despite all the markers of excellence, contenders like Danielle Deadwyler, Viola Davis and Beyoncé weren’t recognized for the highest honors. Niche awards don’t suffice. ........ Beyoncé, one of the most prolific and transformative artists of the 21st century, can win only in niche categories. Her music — a continually evolving and genre-defying sound — still can’t be seen as the standard-bearer for the universal. ......... Black women artists, despite their ingenuity, influence and, in Beyoncé’s case, unparalleled innovation, continue to be denied their highest honors. ........ the false myth of meritocracy upon which these institutions, their ceremonies and their gatekeepers thrive. ......... we saw a new Oscar strategy playing out before our eyes. A groundswell of fellow actors, including A-listers like Gwyneth Paltrow, Kate Winslet and even Cate Blanchett, who would go on to be nominated herself, publicly endorsed Riseborough’s performance on social media, at screenings and even at a prize ceremony. ......... “So it’s only the films and actors that can afford the campaigns that deserve recognition?” Ricci wrote in a now-deleted Instagram post. “Feels elitist and exclusive and frankly very backward to me.” ........ What fascinated me, however, was that what was being framed as a grass-roots campaign to circumvent studio marketing machines revealed another inside game. A racially homogeneous network of white Hollywood stars appeared to vote in a small but significant enough bloc to ensure their candidate was nominated. .......... As conceived by Dominik, Monroe merely flits from injury to injury, all in the service of making her downfall inevitable. ....... another pattern: Oscar voters continue to reward women’s emotional excess more than their restraint. In most films with best actress nominations this year, women’s anger as outbursts is a common thread .......... “Everything Everywhere All at Once” brilliantly explores it as both a response to IRS bureaucratic inefficacy and intergenerational tensions between a Chinese immigrant mother and her queer, Asian American daughter. ............ “Blonde” is again an exception, for de Armas’s Monroe expresses no external rage but sinks into depression and self-loathing, never directing her frustration at the many men who abuse her. .......... Unlike the main characters of the other films, Till-Mobley, in real life, had to repress her rational rage over the gruesome murder of her son, Emmett, to find justice and protect his legacy. Onscreen, Deadwyler captured that paradox by portraying Till-Mobley’s constantly shifting self and her struggle to privately grieve her son’s death while simultaneously being asked to speak on behalf of a burgeoning civil rights movement. ............

female protagonists are often lauded for falling apart.

............ even that assumes that all women’s emotions are treated equally, when the truth is that rage itself is racially coded ....... depict Black women’s rage as an individual emotion and a collective dissent, a combination that deviates from many on-screen representations of female anger as a downward spiral and self-destructive. ............... the “Till” director Chinonye Chukwu critiqued Hollywood on Instagram for its “unabashed misogyny towards Black women” ........ “What is this inability of Academy voters to see Black women, and their humanity, and their heroism, as relatable to themselves?” ......... there are far more Black women directors and complex Black women characters on the big screen than ever before

At the Oscar Nominees Luncheon, a Crowd in Cruise Control The “Top Gun: Maverick” star and producer is mobbed as Austin Butler, Angela Bassett, Ke Huy Quan and others angle to chat with him........ lk into the ballroom of the Beverly Hilton. ....... Cruise even posed for pictures with Steven Spielberg, a once-frequent collaborator whom the star has not been publicly photographed with in over a decade. ..... there was no mistaking Cruise as the ballroom’s top dog ........ In the schmoozy hour before lunch was served, he was so mobbed by his fellow nominees that he was hardly able to move more than a few feet. ........ I watched for a while as “Elvis” star Austin Butler drifted with slow, inexorable determination toward Cruise, who finally pulled the younger man toward him by clamping a hand on his shoulder like a stapler. ....... Yang pleaded with the nominees to keep their speeches short: “We need to be sensitive to our running time,” she said. “This is live television, after all.” .......... “I’ve been acting since I was 19 and I’m 64 — do the math,” Curtis told me. “That’s many years of watching this photograph being taken.” Her late parents, the actors Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh, had both been Oscar nominees. “To be connected through this legacy of their work and my work and now being included here, it’s very powerful,” she said. ......... “I’ve got one more expression,” shouted best-actor nominee Colin Farrell (“The Banshees of Inisherin”). ...... “We talked about how we both did very badly at school,” she said, “and now here we are, at the coolest graduation picture ever.”

What Should I Do About a Neighbor Who Verbally Abused Her Child? A reader who overheard a neighbor shouting cruelties at her young son wonders whether, and how, to intervene.

‘Our Losses Were Gigantic’: Life in a Sacrificial Russian Assault Wave Poorly trained Russian soldiers captured by Ukraine describe being used as cannon fodder by commanders throwing waves of bodies into an assault........ The soldiers were sitting ducks, sent forth by Russian commanders to act essentially as human cannon fodder in an assault. ........ relying on overwhelming manpower, much of it comprising inexperienced, poorly trained conscripts, regardless of the high rate of casualties. ........ two main uses of the conscripts in these assaults: as “storm troops” who move in waves, followed by more experienced Russian fighters; and as intentional targets, to draw fire and thus identify Ukrainian positions to hit with artillery. ....... “The next group would follow after a pause of 15 or 20 minutes, then another, then another.” ........... By luck, the bullets missed him, he said. He lay in the dark until he was captured by Ukrainians who slipped into the buffer area between the two trench lines. ......... The soldiers in Sergei’s squad were recruited from penal colonies by the private military company known as Wagner, whose forces have mostly been deployed in the Bakhmut area. There, they have enabled Russian lines to move forward slowly, cutting key resupply roads for the Ukrainian Army. ........ Russia’s deployment of former convicts is a dark chapter in a vicious war. Russia Behind Bars, a prison rights group, has estimated that as many as 50,000 Russian prisoners have been recruited since last summer, with most sent to the battle for Bakhmut. ........... Russia has deployed about 320,000 soldiers in Ukraine, according to Ukraine’s military intelligence agency. An additional 150,000 are in training camps, officials said, meaning there is the potential for half a million soldiers to join the offensive. ........

But using infantry to storm trenches, redolent of World War I, brings high casualties.

......... Russia’s regular army this month began recruiting convicts in exchange for pardons, shifting the practice on the Russian side in the war from the Wagner private army to the military. ......... rates of wounded and killed at around 70 percent in battalions featuring former convicts ......... over the past two weeks, Russia had probably suffered its highest rate of casualties since the first week of the invasion. ......... “Nobody could ever believe such a thing could exist,” Sergei said of Wagner tactics. .......... The soldiers arrived at the front straight from Russia’s penal colony system, which is rife with abuse and where obedience to harsh codes of conduct in a violent setting is enforced by prison gangs and guards alike. The same sense of beaten subjugation persists at the front ........... enabling commanders to send soldiers forward on

hopeless, human wave attacks

. ................ “We are nobody and have no rights.” ......... Sergei said he had worked as a cellphone tower technician in a far-northern Siberian city, living with his wife and three children. In the interview, he admitted to dealing marijuana and meth, for which he was sentenced to 10 years in prison in 2020. ......... was not offered to rapists and drug addicts, but murderers, burglars and other prisoners were welcome. .......... On the night of Jan. 1, they were commanded to advance 500 yards along the tree line, then dig in and wait for a subsequent wave to arrive. One soldier carried a light machine gun. The others were armed with only assault rifles and hand grenades. ........... “It’s effective. Yes, they have heavy losses. But with these heavy losses, they sometimes advance.” ........... they are being used to conserve tanks and armored personnel carriers for the expected offensive. But they could also serve as a template for wider fighting. .......... are herded into the battlefield by harsh discipline: “They have orders, and they cannot disobey orders, especially in Wagner.” .......... “They brought us to a basement, divided us into five-person groups and, though we hadn’t been trained, told us to run ahead, as far as we could go” ............ From his time as a stretcher bearer, he said, he estimated that half of the men in each assault were wounded or killed, with shrapnel and bullet wounds the most common injuries. .........

Friday, October 18, 2019

The Stupidity Of The Ayodhya Dispute

Ayodhya dispute: A saga that shaped history nears end

One God created everything there is. It is not like one God created America, but another God created India, and a third God created Saudi Arabia, and a fourth still created China, but the Chinese don't know it yet. There is one creator God who spoke the entire universe into existence. Have you noticed? The same laws of physics seem to apply everywhere in the universe? There is such fine tuning. The moon needed to be just the right size and just the right distance to make for a stable earth. Jupiter needed to be big enough to take all the hits from beyond the solar system and protect earth. So, no, it is not true that the God of the Arabs created the Muslim countries, and the God of the Hindus created India.

You have to ask, who were the Muslims praying to in the Babri Masjid? And who is Lord Rama who the Hidus will now worship in the Rama Mandir that they will now erect on that same spot? Let's look at the Muslim and the Hindu scriptures.

Hindus say Lord Rama was a human incarnation of Lord Vishnu. Some Muslims argue it is not possible for God to show up on earth in human form. Those same Muslims say God's power is infinite. As in, there is nothing that God can not do. So, God can do everything except show up on earth in human form? Does not make sense. Of course God has the power to show up on earth in human form. "With God all things are possible."

Is it possible that the Muslims were praying to Lord Vishnu in the Babri Masjid that some Hindus demolished? And now Hindus will worship Lord Rama, a human incarnation of that same Lord Vishnu, in the temple they will build on that same spot?

Hindus say Bramha, the creator, emerged out of Vishnu's navel. About that same thing Christians say, the Son of God, was "begotten, not made." The Holy Father gave birth to the Holy Son. Which means that which the Jews and the Christians call Yahweh, the Hindus call Lord Vishnu.

But, wait, Muslims don't think God has a son, because that is what is stated explicitly in the Quran.

Ishmael was denied. When Abrahan had to let go of Ishmael, God said to him, don't worry, I will make a nation out of him also. That nation is the nation of Islam. Or maybe God has not fulfilled his promise yet. But he has. Islam is not a false religion.

God denying his very own Son in the Quran is an act of love. Ishmael was denied.

Christians say, God so loved humanity, He sacrificed His own Son. The God who can sacrifice His own Son for love of humanity of course is capable of denying His own Son for the love of humanity.

That who the Hindus call Shiva, the Christians call the Holy Spirit.

The Jews are a nation of priests, but then so are the Brahmins of India, priests by birth, generation after generation.

If a Hindu were to insist that he will worship Lord Rama but not Lord Krishna, that would be ignorant, don't you think? Both are human incarnations of the same Lord Vishnu. Similarly, the Ayodhya dispute is Hindus saying we will only worship Lord Rama in His human form, we do not recognize his form (or, rather, formlessness) from before he was Lord Rama and after He was no longer Lord Rama.

There is no God but God.

Islam is simply an Arabic word that means surrender. The most famous Christian prayer says the same thing: "Thy will be done, in heaven as on earth." Before Jesus went on the cross, he prayed: "Take this cup away from me, if you will, yet not my but thy will be done." Jesus surrendered to the will of Allah, God.

Allah is an Arabic word that means God. In Sanskrit, the word is Ishwar. Allah is Lord Vishnu denying to the Muslims that Bramha ever emerged out of his navel because, well, Ishmael was denied.

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Monday, February 06, 2017

बाबरी मस्जिद में भगवान राम की ही तो पुजा हो रही थी

येशु आएगा ये बात प्रथम बार भगवान कृष्ण ने गीता में तब कहा, ५,००० साल पहले, जब बाइबल की एक शब्द नहीं लिखी गई थी। Adam paradise से किक आउट हुवा ४,००० साल पहले, तो कुछ लोग कहते हैं इस पृथ्वी की आयु ४,००० साल है। गलत कहते हैं। भगवान कृष्ण ५,००० साल पहले। उससे पहले ७,००० साल पहले भगवान राम।

गीता में कहा गया है ये ब्रह्माण्ड ६ बिलियन साल से ज्यादा तक रहेगी। अभी का जो स्वर्ग है वो १०० बिलियन साल तक कायम रह चुकी है। और एक cosmic cycle १५०,००० बिलियन साल का होता है। Cosmic cycle जब ख़त्म होता है तो सिर्फ पिता परमेश्वर और पुत्र परमेश्वर बाँकी रह जाते हैं। बाँकी जितने being हैं, चाहे angel या मनुष्य, सबको परमेश्वर अपने womb में वापस ले लेते हैं। उसके बाद एक नया cosmic cycle शुरू।

उस पिता परमेश्वर को हिंदु विष्णु कहते हैं। उन्हें यहुदी Yahweh कहते हैं। मुसलमान उन्हें अल्लाह कहते हैं। क्रिस्चियन उन्हें Holy Father कहते हैं। उनका पहला मानव अवतार भगवान राम। यानि कि बाबरी मस्जिद में भगवान राम की ही पुजा हो रही थी। सिख उन्हें अल्लाह और राम दोनों नाम से जानते हैं।

Holy Son जिन्हें क्रिस्चियन कहते हैं उन्हें ही हिन्दु ब्रम्ह कहते हैं, यहुदी Wisdom के नाम से जानते हैं और Holy Daughter कहते हैं। उस Wisdom अर्थात ब्रम्ह का पहला मानव अवतार येशु २,००० साल पहले। दुसरा मानव अवतार मैं।

ब्रम्ह ने हिंदु को वेद दिया। उसी ब्रम्ह को हिन्दु लगातार २,००० साल तक नकार चुका है। अजीब बात नहीं? कहते हो रामभक्त हैं। उसी राम के मंदिर को तोड़ दिया। उसी परमेश्वर के मानव अवतार स्वीकार लेकिन उनका जो unmanifest रूप है वो अस्वीकार?

भगवान कृष्ण ने गीता में कहा है, मेरे दिखाए हुवे रास्ते पर १०,००० में एक लोग चलेंगे और जितने चलेंगे उसमें से १०,००० में एक सफल होंगे। लेकिन Wisdom (यानि कि ब्रम्ह यानि कि येशु) के रास्ते पर चलने वाले सभी paradise पहुँच सकते हैं, चाहे कितना ही पापी क्युँ न हो। ये बात येशु के आने से पहले ३,००० साल पहले भगवान कृष्ण ने कहा।

पृथ्वी एक, स्वर्ग सात। लेकिन जिसे सबसे उपर सातवें स्वर्ग तक पहुँचना है वो वहाँ येशु के रास्ते नहीं पहुँच सकते, उन्हें भगवान श्री कृष्ण के दिखाए रास्ते ही जाना होगा, और वो है योग का रास्ता। अब ५,००० साल बाद शायद ratio बदला जा सकता है। शायद अब १०,००० में एक नहीं १,००० में एक संभव हो जाये। बगैर प्रयास के कैसे पता चलेगा?

यानि की हिन्दु सब baptize हो जाओ और क्रिस्चियन सब के सब योग करने लगो।

जरा सोंचो, सर्वशक्तिमान पिता परमेश्वर जो कुछ भी कर सकते हैं, omnipotent, omniscient, उनके जन्मभुमि पर कोइ उनके अलावे किसी दुसरे का मंदिर बना सकता था क्या?

अच्छा यही होगा कि उस जगह पर मंदिर मस्जिद दोनों बने side by side ताकि उनके मानव अवतार की भी पुजा हो और उनके formless, unmanifest रूप की भी।

गीता को समझने के लिए कोरान पढ्ने की जरुरत होती है।

Arjuna said:

What is it that drives a man
to an evil action, Krishna,
even against his will,
as if some force made him do it?

(Geeta 3:36)

इस प्रश्न को भगवान कृष्ण deflect कर देते हैं क्यों कि उतर के लिए न उस समय अर्जुन तैयार था न मानव जाति। इस प्रश्न का पुर्ण जवाब मिलेगा आपको कोरान में जहाँ खुल के शैतान (Satan) का जिक्र किया गया है।

God So Loved Humanity He Denied His Own Son

Gospel में एक जगह जिजस (येशु) कहता है, यदि तुम में श्रद्धा है तो तुम पहाड़ उठा सकते हो। वो हनुमान के बारे में कहा गया। हनुमान से बढ़ के कोई भक्त पैदा ही नहीं हुवा।

Monday, December 12, 2016

Priyanka Chopra, Racism, Sexism, America, India

Binge watching Quantico is on my to do list. I binge watched Kevin Spacey and Amitabh Bachchan, and it was a great experience. I also have binge watched the show 24. It is my impression Quantico is along the lines of 24. But Priyanka Chopra is all over the media. I have noticed for months now. She is on the cover of magazines. There are videos of her making appearances on American TV all over YouTube. She was the most googled after Leonardo DiCaprio at the last Oscars. That is a powerful metric. What you have to note there is that Priyanka met Leo while she is on the way up and Leo is on the way down. Dwayne Johnson is the top paid actor in Hollywood? Not for long if Priyanka has her way.

She is a first. No Hollywood actor has ever eased into Bollywood. No Bollywood actor has ever eased into Hollywood like she has. The world is her oyster. Pun intended. For her mother seems to suggest PC is all into oysters. There are pictures on her Instagram of her ordering oysters in many parts of the world.

What rankles though is the media treatment. The tablet that God handed over to Moses on the mountain was also meant for the media. Take note.

The glaring racism and sexism is so in your face. For example, there is one dumb white male, and two young black women, all into fat shaming PC. That is a pattern. You connect the dots and you see there is some Roger Ailes type fatso somewhere in the background pulling the strings. When you deliver the racist, sexist message through a black woman, then maybe it is not racist and sexist, that is the thinking.

Many working class Americans work two jobs. That is not lazy. An average American is fat. But that is not about people being lazy. The average American is fat for the same reason something as gigantic as the Pacific is choking with plastic. The American Big Pharma has managed to kill half the gut bacteria in American tummies. That is the top reason why the average American is fat. It is chaos.

Bollywood is not the Indian version of Hollywood any more than the thali is the Indian version of the hamburger.

The family in America is weak precisely because Americans do not worship Lord Rama, the first human incarnation of the Holy Father. Rama created the family, and established justice is above wealth, knowledge, power. Lord Krishna created the modern state and laid out the rules for use of force to uphold justice. Lord Jesus built the bridge to heaven, and created the person on earth, the person of the one person one vote democracy, the basic unit of the modern economy. India could not become a modern state and economy unless it opens up its heart to Jesus.

Saturday, May 28, 2016

The Spiritual Ladder And Democracy

Humanity is a chain, only as strong as its weakest link. To you personally every single human being matters. Heaven On Earth is not possible unless every single human being is on board.

The big picture is, I am for a total spread of democracy, and I am for using every possible weapon of nonviolence to that end.

God is the one authority. And since the only place a human being can connect with God is in his/her personal space, the people collectively are the only legitimate source of earthly power.

That political proposition is urgent and global. If that means Arab countries need to switch to constitutional monarchies, then so be it. If that means the Chinese Communist Party needs to offer the people two candidates for president, governor and mayor, then so be it.

Every human being has a right to free speech. Free will is a gift from God to people. Every human being has a right to religious freedom. You can pray to God the way you choose to. Peaceful practice of religion is a political right.

Violence is not allowed. A legitimate state curbs possibilities of violence through threat of force.

This global political infrastructure with the right to free speech, and the right to peaceful religious practice firmly in place makes room for advanced spiritual undertakings. Advanced spiritual undertakings, as well as advanced economic and social processes.

Kumar: Wake Up To God

Monday, March 21, 2016

If Robots Can Do Surgery

English: The mdonalds logo from the late 90s
English: The mdonalds logo from the late 90s (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
If robots can do surgery then becoming a surgeon should be less complicated than flipping burgers at McDonald's. Massive rises in productivity can mean the average wages go up dramatically, granted political innovation keeps pace with innovations in technology.

When you use a computer today, do you do it because you understand how all the machine parts work? Do you care? Do you use it because it is slower than you?

Cars and planes are faster than human beings.

Assume 90% of the products and services are not even here. If the human brain is the pinnacle of evolution, then public policy should treat every human brain on earth like it were a gold mine, which is precisely what it is. I don't see the investment happening right now.

Don't blame robots for failures in public policy.

One person, one vote, one voice is a powerful concept. It just needs to be taken to its logical conclusion.

If racism is a Christian thing (colonization, slavery, segregation) then Christianity, the religion, is nothing to do with Christ. Any message against peace, justice and kindness is invalid in all religions. The temple needs to be cleaned up on a regular basis.

We are to create Heaven On Earth. Massive rises in productivity are to take us there. But Godless "visionaries" throw visions of hell on earth. Instead of an age of abundance they talk about abundant poor and useless people.

Artificial Intelligence can help us achieve one person, one vote, one voice 24/7, it can help us do away with the need for literacy. It can give us the perfect communication that a theoretical perfect market economy needs, one where a monopoly simply can not happen, and there is almost always perfect competition.

Technology is supposed to empower. Instead some prophesy helplessness for the masses. They are wrong.

Monday, December 21, 2015

The Caste System Is The Sanatani Colonizing The Hindu Religion

Yadavs Have No Caste

राम के बाद कृष्ण। द्वापर युग त्रेता युग। तो कृष्ण का कास्ट क्या है? वो उँच जात के कि नीच जात के? कृष्ण का तो कोइ कास्ट नहीं। क्या वजह है? मुग़ल ने आ के कोलोनाइज़ किया वो तो हिन्दु देखते हैं, अँग्रेज का भी देख लेते हैं। लेकिन सनातनी का कोलोनाइजेशन आँख के ठीक सामने है लेकिन दिखता नहीं।

सनातनी यहुदी के तरह हुवे। ओल्ड टेस्टामेंट बोल दो। जीजस कोई गोरा नहीं था। पिक्चर में दिखा देते हैं जीजस को गोरा और बुद्ध को चिनिया। जब कि जीजस का चमरा था ब्राउन। अरब था। जैसा कि आजकल टेररिस्ट कह देते हैं। बुद्ध तो विशुद्ध मधेसी। १००% ---- जीजस के समुदाय के लोगों का जेनेटिक पुल और सनातनी का जेनेटिक पुल बहुत मिलता होगा। जो वैज्ञानिक लोग हैं ओ अपना शोध करें। हम तो layman हैं। मैं माइग्रेशन पैटर्न के आधार पर बोल रहा हुँ।

हाल ही में अमेरिका में एक मास्टर को नौकरी से निकाल दिया। क्यों कि उसने कहे दिया कि मुसलमान और ईसाई का भगवान एक ही है। मेरे को तो बहुत ताज्जुब लगा। कल कोई कहे एवरेस्ट की ऊंचाई है ८८४८ मीटर तो उसे भी निकाल दो।

दुनिया के सभी धर्म एक ही जगह से शुरू हुवे हैं। सनातनी भी मिडिल ईस्ट से ही आए हैं। सिर्फ यहुदी, ईसाई और मुसलमान का ही नहीं सनातनी, हिन्दु और बुद्धिस्ट का भी भगवान एक ही है। और ये जेनेटिक पुल का बात नहीं है। अरे मुरख जरा सोंच, भगवान का जो कांसेप्ट है वो एक के अलावे दो कैसे हो सकता है? भगवान एक ही हैं। Either that, or we are not talking about God, we are talking about something else. टॉपिक चेंज कर दिया गया। एक होना भगवान का प्रॉपर्टी है। जैसे पानी का प्रॉपर्टी है तरल होना। तो भगवान का प्रॉपर्टी है एक होना। एक के अलावे दो हो नहीं सकते। वो तो हम हैं अंधे जो एक ही हाथी को छु रहे हैं और अपने अपने स्टाइल से वर्णन कर रहे हैं।

अंधा कर देता है धर्म। श्री लंका और बर्मा में बुद्धिस्ट का हिंसा देख के दलाई लामा को कहना पड़ा उनकी बुद्धिस्ट धर्म से कोई लेनादेना नहीं। उनका सम्बन्ध है उनकी आशक्ति है बुद्ध के ज्ञान से।

बिभिन्न धर्म वाले टेंशन करते रहते हैं। तो संगठित धर्म राजनीति का रूप धारण कर लेता है। इसी लिए धर्म निरपेक्षता बहुत ही जरुरी चीज है। कि सभी धर्म के लिए जगह है टेंट में और राज्य का अपना कोई धर्म नहीं। राज्य तो एक भौतिक चीज हुई। पुलिस का लाठी डंडा, सुरक्षा, प्रति व्यक्ति आय, स्कुल अस्पताल, रोड पुल।

जीजस का जन्म हुवा यहुदी के रूप में। और जीजस ने ना बुद्ध ने खुद कोई धर्म शुरू किया। वो तो ज्ञान बांड रहे थे। नॉलेज। धर्म तो हम आप ने बाद में बना दिया। बुद्ध ने अपने आप को सिर्फ एक गुरु माना। कि जितना ज्ञान मेरे पास है उतना तुम्हारे पास भी हो सकता है। प्रयास करो।

उस समय के यहुदी ने जीसस को तड़पा तड़पा के मारा। उन्हें लगा ये हमारे शक्ति को चैलेंज कर रहा है। राम कृष्ण के हाथ पैर होते हैं। इस बात का सनातनी को बहुत बुरा लगता है। कि भगवान का भी कोई हाथ पैर होता है क्या!

दलितों में देखिएगा राम के प्रति बहुत आशक्ति। मेरे को ये ज्ञान नहीं हैं लेकिन मेरा अनुमान है जिस तरह यादव और कृष्ण उसी तरह दलित और राम। शायद। तो रामभक्त को तोड़मरोड़ करने में सनातनी को ज्यादा टाइम मिल गया। एक युग और बित जाने दो तो यादव भी हो जाएंगे दलित।

तो सनातनी कहता है तुम मंदिर में मत जाओ। मेरा आदेश है। किसी को धर्म से वर्जित कोई इंसान कैसे कर सकता है? This tension is not about God, this tension is about religion.

राम मंदिर बाद में बनाओ। पहले दलित को बराबरी हो। सबसे ज्यादा दलित राम के इलाके में क्यों? Coincidence? हरिजन शायद उपयुक्त नाम है। दलित का मतलब हुवा oppressed --- तो जैसे भारत को कहा जाता था colonized --- लेकिन देश का नाम तो Colonized नहीं हो सकता। Political status था colonized -- देशका नाम नहीं था। तो दलित समुदाय का नाम नहीं हो सकता। वो अभी का political status है। नाम शायद हरिजन है समुदाय का।

सनातनी ने बड़े बड़े पाप किए हैं। बुद्ध के भुमि से बुद्ध धर्म को बिलकुल सखाप कर दिया। तर्क वितर्क या पुजा पाठ से नहीं। जेनोसाइड के रास्ते। रूआण्डा। यहुदी ने एक जीजस को मारा। सनातनी ने कितने बुद्ध को मारा कोई गिनती नहीं।

एक आधुनिक राज्य में उस बुद्ध के शरीर की सुरक्षा की जिम्मेवारी राज्य की होती है।

कृष्ण का वध किया सनातनी ने। कहानी में लिख देते हैं श्राप दे दिया। भष्म कर दिया ये कर दिया वो कर दिया। मर्डर किया होगा। जिस तरह जीजस का मर्डर हुवा। History is written by the victors वाली बात।

जब हिन्दु धर्म हिन्दु धर्म रहता है तो वो बिना कास्ट के होता है, जैसे कि यादवों में है। लेकिन जब सनातनी हिन्दु धर्म को तोड़मरोड़ के रख देते हैं तो उसी को कास्ट सिस्टम कहते हैं। वो सनातनी का आक्रमण है। हिन्दु को पता भी नहीं चलता।

"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince the world he didn't exist."

यहुदी कहता है, हाँ जीजस पैदा हुवा था लेकिन आदमी था। साधारण इंसान। हमारे ही गाओं देहात में पैदा हुवा था। हम मिले थे उससे। ईसाई कहते हैं जीजस भगवान का बेटा था। उतने से difference of opinion में दो धर्म हैं। दो अलग अलग धर्म। दलित कहता है हमें राम भगवान का पुजा करना है तो सनातनी सोंचता है इसे डायरेक्ट रोकुंगा तो लफड़ा हो सकता है तो वो घुमा के कहता है, तुम तो दलित हो, तुम नीच हो, तुम मंदिर नहीं जा सकते।

तो क्या है कि हिन्दु धर्म को लिबरेट करना होगा। कास्ट सिस्टम को खत्म करना होगा।

धर्म निरपेक्षता इस लिए बहुत जरुरी है। जीसस इन्सान था या भगवान का बेटा ---- वो आप लोग छलफल करते रहो, और वैसे भी वो राजकाज से सम्बंधित चीज नहीं है। तो सनातनी रहो। ब्राह्मण रहो। अपना सांस्कृतिक पहचान बना के रखो। जो पढ़ना है पढ़ो। यानि कि यादव के तरह ब्राह्मण का एक standalone identity हो सकता है, सांस्कृतिक। लेकिन किसी को मंदिर जाने से वर्जित नहीं कर सकते। किसी के रामभक्ति के आड़े नहीं आ सकते। किसी दूसरे को नीचा नहीं देख सकते। प्रत्येक धर्म का प्रत्येक ग्रन्थ सारे मानव जाति का है। कोई भी कुछ भी पढ़ सकता है। दलित वेद पुराण बाइबल कुरान कुछ भी पढ़ सकता है, उसकी इच्छा। सीसा पिघलाओ और गिलास बनाओ।

हिन्दु धर्म अभी एक कोलोनाइज्ड धर्म है। कास्ट सिस्टम ख़त्म करो तो मिल गयी आजादी। १९४७: अ लव स्टोरी।

सनातनी के विरुद्ध सब के सब एक हो जाओ: यादव, हरिजन, मुसलमान, बुद्धिस्ट। बदला नहीं सधाना है, बराबरी लेना भी है और देना भी। जान और धन का सुरक्षा वो तो धर्म निरपेक्ष राज्य का काम है, वो धार्मिक टॉपिक ही नहीं। वो तो भौतिक चीज है।

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

"Mystic Poet" Tagore's Radical Feminist Story

Rabindranath TagoreCover of Rabindranath TagoreLetter from a Wife
Rabindranath Tagore

Dear Husband and Your Lotus Feet:

We’ve been married for fifteen years, but I’ve never written you a letter. All these years, I’ve stayed close to you – you’ve heard me speaking and I’ve heard you; there has been no spare time to write.

Today I’ve come to visit the pilgrimage here by the ocean, and you’ve stayed back in your office. Your relationship with Calcutta[1] is like one between the snail and its shell. It’s fixed so deep on you that you haven’t ever applied for a leave of absence. The God of Fate has precisely had that plan; she’s approved my application.

I’m the middle bride in your family[2]. Today, after fifteen years, standing on the seashore I’ve come to realize that I have another relationship with my world and its god. That realization has given me courage to write this letter; it’s not really a letter from your middle bride.

The one who wrote my fate together with your family, the time when none other than him knew of it, in that childhood my brother and I fell ill with typhoid[3]. My little brother died, but I pulled through. All the girls in the village said, “It’s only because Mrinal is a woman she survived; men couldn’t get over with it no way.” Yama, the God of Death, is apt at stealing – he’s always keen on getting the precious.

I can’t seem to die. That’s exactly what I want to clarify in this letter.

I was only twelve when your uncle and cousin came to see me as a potential bride for you. We lived in a remote village; you could hear foxes howling even in daytime. From the train station, one would reach our village by riding seven miles in a horse cart followed by three miles in a hand-held carriage, that too on a mud trail. Did you all have a hard time doing it! On top of it was our frumpy country cooking, which your uncle wouldn’t spare to mock even today.

Your mother was desperate to complement the lack of beauty in the eldest bride with the next one. Otherwise, why’d you even take so much trouble to visit such a remote village? In Bangladesh, nobody would be in the lookout for malaria, jaundice and brides – they’d come voluntarily and would never want to go away.

My father’s heart pounced; my mother began praying to Goddess Durga. How would a country devotee please an urban god? The only hope was the bride’s beauty; but the bride herself would not brag about it, and it was up to the buyer to settle on her price. Women would never be rid of their humility even with all their virtues.

The fear and apprehension of my family, in fact of the entire village, bogged me down like a boulder on my chest. Strangers were inspecting a twelve-year-old girl that day using all the powerful searchlights of the world – I had no place to hide.

Music of melancholy played across the sky – I arrived at your home. Having thoroughly criticized all the flaws I had, the group of elderly women agreed that overall, I was pretty. Elder sister-in-law of course went somber. I wondered though what the real use of my beauty was in the first place. Beauty would be worthwhile had an ancient priest created it using soil of the Ganges[4]; because God had created it out of bliss, it had no value whatsoever in your world and its concept of virtue.

It didn’t take you much time to forget that I was beautiful. However, you frequently remembered that I had intelligence. That intelligence I had was so natural that in spite of going through your mundane, household grind, it still breathed. My mother was very worried about my intellect – for poor women, it could always be a problem. For her who must comply with all the restrictions would one day sure be out of luck if she also complied with reasoning. But what else could I do? God gave me way more intellect that a bride in your family would ever need – now whom could I return it? You kept calling me the know-all dame. Harsh words would always be the weapon of the inept; therefore, I forgave you.

None of you had ever known that I had another element with me outside of the household chores. I wrote poetry secretly. Whatever rubbish it was, your walls could not build there. That was my freedom; that was where I was I. You’d neither liked nor recognized whatever in me was beyond your familiar middle bride; you’d never known in fifteen long years that I was a poet.

Out of all the memories in your home the thing that would come first was the cowshed. The cows lived right next to the staircase to go up in the women’s interior of the house; they had no place to move about other than the small square out in front. There was a wooden bucket in the corner for their fodder. The servants had errands to do in the morning; the starving cows would frantically chew up on the edges of the empty buckets. I couldn’t bear it. I was a country girl – the two cows and their three calves were the most familiar things to me when I first came to live here. I’d feed them out of my own food when I was a new bride; after that, others began to make oblique remarks about my kindness to animals.

My little girl died right after birth. She’d even called me to come along with her. If she lived, she’d bring me all the truth and nobility; I’d be promoted to be a mother from a wife. I got the hurt of motherhood, but not the emancipation that would come with it.

I remembered how the English doctor was shocked to see the women’s interior and condition of the labor room, and scolded you. You had a small garden in front of the house; there was no lack of decorative furniture in your rooms either. Yet, the interior was like the flip side of a silk stitch quilt – it was drab, barren and ugly. Neither light nor air would enter in it freely, trash would keep piling up in the corner; the walls and floors would remain as grimy as ever. The doctor, however, made a mistake: he thought the horrible conditions actually made us sad and miserable. But it was just the opposite. Carelessness would often be like ashes: they’d keep the fire hidden inside but wouldn’t let others know about the heat. In a forever dishonorable situation, lack of care would not hurt that much. In fact, that’s why women would feel embarrassed to feel pain. I’d say: if your system was such that women must feel pain, then you’d better keep them in constant negligence; otherwise, pain would worsen amidst care.

However way you let me live my life, I never wanted to think that I was unhappy. Death came to the labor room to take me away, but I was not afraid. Life didn’t mean much; so I never feared for death. Only those would have trouble to die whose life was deep-rooted in affection and care. If the God of Death had pulled me, I’d come out easily just like a patch of grass. Bengali women would die often, and die regularly. But what would be so dignified about it? It’d be so easy for us that we’d actually be shy about it.

My little girl rose briefly in the sky like the evening star and then quickly set. I went back on my daily rituals and chores with the cattle. Life would just roll on ‘til the end; I wouldn’t need to write you this letter at all. However, wind sometimes would blow a small, insignificant seed and drop it in the cracks of an edifice to germinate; in the end, the concrete structure would split open because of it. A small grain of life flew from nowhere and dropped in the middle of our family establishment; the split started to grow ever since.

After her mother passed away and cousins began abusing her, Bindu, sister-in-law’s younger sibling, came to take shelter in our extended family. You all were visibly disturbed considering it to be a hassle. Stubborn like anything I was, seeing how much disturbed you’d all felt, I came by the side of this helpless girl with all my force. It was already too disgraceful to live with somebody else’s family against their will. How could I ignore her pain and suffering?

Then I noticed the situation of sister-in-law. She’d brought her over out of sheer desperation. But when she saw how unsupportive her husband was, she started acting as if Bindu was indeed a big trouble, and that she’d find no problem whatsoever to kick her out. Devoted to the husband she was, it would be impossible for her to show any sign of mercy to her own little, orphaned sister.

I felt pain to see her predicament. I saw that just to satisfy everybody, sister-in-law gave her the worst possible food and put her in to work as a maid. I was ashamed. She started to make it a point that finding Bindu to do household chores – big or small – was indeed a cheap deal – that she practically cost nothing.

In sister-in-law’s parents’ family, there was absolutely nothing to show off other than their so-called blue blood. You all knew how she was married off into your family literally by begging, praying and going through utter humiliation. She always considered her marriage into this family to be a horrible wrongdoing. Therefore, she’d always kept herself concealed, taking up as tiny a place as possible in the extreme interior.

However, her exemplary lifestyle put us in jeopardy. I could never humble myself that much in all imaginable ways. If I knew something was good, nobody could easily convince me that it was bad – and you found various instances of this.

I took Bindu in my room. Sis-in-law complained, “Middle Bride will spoil the poor man’s daughter to death.” She started complaining about me all around. But I knew for sure that she felt greatly relieved. Now the burden of crime came upon me. She was relieved to see that Bindu had finally found some care, some affection from me – things that she could never give her. She’d often hide Bindu’s real age to make her look younger. Actually, Bindu was so cumbersome and awkward that if she ever fell on the floor and broke her head, people would first tend to the floor before minding her. Hence, without the presence of her parents, there was nobody to arrange for her wedding; it was also impossible to find a brave man who’d come forward and take her as his bride.

Bindu came to live with me with great trepidation as if I couldn’t tolerate her remotest touch. She thought she had no reason to live in this world; she’d avoid everyone and bypass all. In her father’s family, her cousins would never spare a little corner for her where nobody else could even leave unwanted items. In fact, unwanted items would easily find room in far and near corners of a home because people would forget them, but an unwanted woman would not find even a dump because first she was unwanted, and then, she could not be forgotten. Nobody could vouch that Bindu’s cousins were particularly wanted or needed in this world either. However, they did just fine.

So, when I brought Bindu into my room, she became very nervous. I felt very sad to see her fear. With great effort and affection I convinced her that she’d indeed have a little space in my quarters.

But my quarters were not my quarters alone. My task therefore didn’t turn out to be easy. Within a few days, she developed some red rashes on her body – they could be heat prickles or something similar. But you all said it was smallpox. Because it was none other than Bindu! An apprentice doctor from your neighborhood came and said, “Can’t tell without waiting for a couple more days.” But who’d wait at all? Bindu felt like dying out of embarrassment. I said, “Let it be smallpox. I’ll stay with her in that small labor room; you don’t need to do anything.” And then, when you were all furious with me, and Sis-in-law herself got terribly shaky and proposed to send her out to the hospital, her rashes disappeared. You said, “That smallpox must’ve buried inside the skin.” Sure, because it was none other than Bindu.

One of the big pluses of growing up in total lack of care was that it’d make you extremely strong. No illness could strike you, and all the roads to die would be totally closed off. The disease came to poke fun at her, but nothing else happened. But it was indeed clear that finding help for the most unwanted person in the world was the hardest thing to do. She needed the maximum protection; she had the maximum obstacles to it instead.

When Bindu finally broke her apprehensions about me, she grew yet another problem. She started loving me so much that even I was frightened. Did I ever see such an image of love in my entire life? Of course I read about it, but it would be between a man and a woman. The awareness that I was beautiful didn’t occur back to me in a very long time – now after so many years, this ugly girl brought that subject up. She wouldn’t stop looking at me. She said, “Sister, nobody else but me has ever looked at your face.” She’d be upset if I did my own hair. She’d find much pleasure to play with the volume of my hair. I’d never have any reasons to dress nicely unless there was a party outside. Now Bindu would make me irritated and dress me up every single day. She went wild with me.

There was not a single open space in your interior. There was a wild pome tree near the sewer by the northern fence. I knew it was spring when the tree showed bright-red budding leaves. In my quarter, I saw the uncared-for girl’s heart turning colorful; I knew there was spring in the world of hearts, and it came from the heavens, not from some dark alley.

Bindu made me annoyed with her deep care for me. Sometimes I’d be angry at her, still, through her affection, I saw a new me unfolding – something I’d never seen in life. It was a liberated me.

On this side, however, the fact that I was taking so much trouble for someone like Bindu was not well taken by you. Everybody would begrudge and bemoan about it. The day I lost my precious necklace, you’d never hesitated to declare that it was Bindu who’d done it. When the police came to search for suspected freedom activists[5], you’d all suspected that it was Bindu who had been the police spy. There was no other evidence for it: the only evidence was that it was Bindu.

Your maids would always object to do anything for her; she too would be frozen if someone volunteered to help. Naturally, my expenses went up: I employed a private maid. You didn’t like it at all. You were so upset to see the clothes I gave Bindu to wear that you stopped paying for my allowances. I started wearing cheap and coarse locally made clothes from the next day. I also asked Moti’s Ma not to come anymore to do my dishes. I’d feed my cow with the leftover rice and then do the dishes myself. You were not pleased to see it either. I could never grapple with the simple truth that it was always okay not to please me and it was never okay not to please you.

You got angrier and Bindu got older; even that very natural phenomenon disturbed you. The one thing I kept wondering about was why you hadn’t kicked her out by force. I knew deep inside that you actually feared me. At the end, because you couldn’t force her out yourselves, you sought help from the god of matrimony. Bindu’s groom was arranged. Sister-in-law said, “What a relief! Goddess Kali saved our family reputation.”

I didn’t know how the groom was; I just heard that he was good. Bindu fell at my feet and wept, “Sister, why’s there so much fuss about my marriage?”

I convinced her, “Bindu, don’t you worry – I hear that your man is nice.”

Bindu said, “Why’d a nice man choose someone as worthless as me?”

The groom’s family never even came to see Bindu before the wedding. Sister-in-law was greatly reassured by it.

But Bindu kept crying days in and out. I knew what pain she was bearing. I had fought hard to save Bindu, but could not have the courage to keep her from getting married. How in the world would I do it? What’d happen to her – a poor, dark woman – if I died? I was terrified to think about it.

Bindu said, “It’s still five days left before the wedding; couldn’t I die?”

I firmly rebuked her, but only God knew I’d actually feel a lot comfortable if she could die in a simple, straightforward way.

On the day before the ceremony, Bindu told her sister, “Sis, I’ll live in your cowshed, I’ll do anything you want me to do, but please don’t throw me out this way.”

Sister-in-law also was crying for a few days now, and today she cried too. But it was not merely a matter of heart; it was now a matter of social dictates. She said, “Don’t you know Bindi, a husband is the ultimate way for a woman to find happiness. And no one can stop you from being unhappy if that’s what is written for you[6].”

The truth was that there was no other way; Bindu must marry – whatever will be, will be.

I wanted the wedding to take place at ours. But you decided against it; you said it must be at the groom’s because it was their family tradition.

I realized that your family gods would never allow taking on the wedding expenses. So I remained silent. But none of you knew one thing: I secretly dressed Bindu up with some of my own jewelry. Maybe, Sister noticed it, but pretended not to. Please forgive her for this moral turpitude.

Before she left, Bindu embraced me and said, “So you really decided to give me up?”

I said, “No Bindi, whatever happens to you I’ll never give you up.”

Three days went by. In the morning, I went in to the tiny, thatched coal room to feed the lamb I saved from slaughter and hid. I found Bindu sitting there on the floor. She fell on my feet and wept silently.

Bindu’s husband was a mad man: a total lunatic.

“Are you telling the truth?”

“How can I tell such a lie to you, Sister? He’s insane. My father-in-law didn’t want this marriage to happen, but he was scared of my mother-in-law to death. He’d left for Kashi[7] just before the wedding. Mother-in-law insisted that her son be married.

I squatted down on the heap of coal. Often, a woman would find no mercy for another woman. She’d say, “She’s only a woman, after all. A man – crazy or not – is a man nonetheless.”

Bindu’s husband wouldn’t act like crazy all the time, but sometimes he’d go so out of control that they’d lock him up. He behaved nice on the wedding day, but because of the sleeplessness during the ceremony, etc., he went berserk the next morning. Bindu was eating rice from a brass plate; suddenly her husband yanked it and threw it out on the courtyard. Out of nowhere he thought that Bindu was Rani Rasmoni[8], the servant stole her gold platter, and put rice for her on his own brass plate. It made him mad. Bindu was petrified. On the third night, when the mother-in-law ordered her to sleep in the husband’s room, she was a nervous wreck. The mother-in-law was a very irate person; she’d be out of control in anger. She was crazy too, but not completely; that’s why she was ever more dreadful. Bindu had to enter the husband’s room. He was calm that day. But Bindu was stiff as wood in fear. When the husband slept, she somehow managed to escape; one didn’t need to write all the details of it.

I was burning in contempt and anger. I said, “This is a fraud marriage, not a real one. Bindu, you live here just like before; let me see who can take you out from here.”

You all said, “Bindu is lying.”

I said, “She’s never lied.”

You said, “How do you know?”

I said, “I know it for sure.”

You tried to scare me, “Bindu’s in-laws will go to court and we’ll all be in trouble.”

I said, “Wouldn’t the court understand that they tricked her into marrying a crazy man?”

You said, “So we have to fight a court case on it? What’s our problem?”

I said, “I’ll sell my ornaments and do whatever I can.”

You said, “Will you run up to the lawyer?[9]”

I couldn’t respond. I could bang my head hard on the wall, but nothing else.

Bindu’s elder brother-in-law came and raised hell. He’d threatened to go to the police.

I had no real power at all, but I simply couldn’t accept that I’d have to return the calf that fled from the slaughterhouse and came to me for its life. I said rather stubbornly, “Let him go to the police.”

Having said it, I thought this would be the perfect time to bring Bindu into my bedroom and lock her in. But I couldn’t find her anywhere. Finally I discovered that when I was arguing with you, Bindu went straight up to her brother-in-law and surrendered. She’d realized that her staying back in this house would put me in serious trouble.

The episode of running away worsened her misery. Her mother-in-law bickered that her son didn’t kill her or anything. She said, compared to many other abusive husbands, her son was like an angel.

My sister-in-law said, “She has bad luck; what can we do about it? After all, crazy or not, it’s her husband.”

You’d perhaps been thinking about the epic tale of the woman who’d brought her leper husband over to the prostitute. You men would never stop repeating this story – one of the most horrendous cowardice, and that’s why you’d never stop being angry about Bindu and her behavior so unacceptable to you. I was heartbroken about Bindu, but I was ashamed of you. I was only a village girl, and that too, given to people like you; how in the world did God slip in me so much power to reason? I could never put up with the bogus religious tales of yours.

I was certain that Bindu would never return. But I gave her my word that I’d never give up on her. My younger brother Sarat studied in a Calcutta college; you knew how enthusiastic he was about all kinds of volunteer work – be it fundraising for the flood-stricken or trapping the Plague moles. He’d actually failed exam because of spending too much time on philanthropy and no time to study. I called Sarat up and said, “You must do something so that I hear from Bindu. She’ll not dare to write me, and even if she does, the letter will never reach me.”

Of course, Sarat would be much happier if I’d told him instead to bring Bindu over by force or break her husband’s neck.

I was discussing it with him; at this time, you entered the room and said, “What problem have you caused now?”

I said, “The one and the only – I came to live here with your family – but it was your act, not mine.”

You asked, “You hide Bindu again?”

I said, “If she’d come, of course I’d have hidden her. But she’s not going to come, so don’t worry.”

Seeing Sarat, you grew even more suspicious. I knew how much you disapproved of Sarat visiting me. You were always worried that because Sarat was under the watch of the police, some day he’d be incriminated on a political crime and then all of you would be dragged into it. For that reason, even on Bhai Phota[10], I’d send the blessing over to him through attendants, but never invite him over.

But I learned from you that Bindu had run away one more time, and her brother-in-law came to search for her again. I was very worried to hear it. The poor girl was so helpless, yet I had no way to help her.

Sarat rushed to find out. He returned in the evening and said, “Bindu left and went back to her cousins, but they were totally upset and brought her back to her in-laws right away. They still couldn’t accept that they had to take in financial loss for the trip.”

Your aunt came to your house on her way to the pilgrimage by the ocean. I said, “I’ll go with her too.”

Finding how pious I suddenly was made you so delighted that you didn’t object at all. You knew that if I stayed back in Calcutta at this time, I’d get involved with Bindu’s mess again. You had a lot of anxieties about me.

We were about to set out on Wednesday; all the arrangements had been done on Sunday. I called Sarat and said, “By any means, you must bring Bindu over on Wednesday and put her on my train.”

Sarat’s face brightened up. He said, “Never worry, Sis. I’ll put her on the train and ride along with you all the way; it’ll be a free ticket for me too to see the Jagannath temple[11].”

Sarat came back the same evening. My heart sank just to see him back. I asked, “What happened, Sarat? Couldn’t get to do it?”

He said, “No.”

I said, “So, you couldn’t get her to come?”

He said, “There’s no need for it. Last night, she put fire on her clothes and committed suicide. There was a boy in their house whom I made friends with; he said she’d left a last note for you, but they destroyed it.”

All right, so there was peace now after all.

The whole community got fired up at the news. They said, “It’s now become like a fashion to put fire on yourself.”

You said, “It was too much of a drama.” It might have been. Yet, one must also find out why the fun part of the drama always went over the saris of Bengali women and not dhotis[12] of fearless Bengali men.

Bindi was truly luckless. When she lived, she got no fame for her beauty or other virtues; when she died, she did it in such an outdated way that nobody found it to be unique and worthy of compliments. Even at death, she made people angry.

Sister-in-law hid in her room and wept. But there was an element of consolation in her weep. After all, Bindi was indeed saved by the death. It could’ve been much worse if she had lived.

I came to the pilgrimage. Bindu didn’t need to come anymore, but I did.

I never really had anything in your family that one could call unhappiness. I never had any lack of food or clothes there; and whatever your brother’s character was, I couldn’t call you a person of low morale. Even if you had problems with your character, I could’ve survived more or less okay, blaming the universal god instead of the husband god, following the footsteps of my faithful sister-in-law. I would not want to bring complaints against you – that’s not the reason I wrote you this letter.

But I’m never going to return to your home at twenty-seven Makhan Boral Lane. I’ve seen Bindu. I now understand what exactly the status of a woman is in this world. I don’t want to be any part of it.

I’ve also discovered that even though she is a woman, God has not given up on her. However much power you’ve possessed on her, it all has had its limits. She is way over beyond her mortal life. Your feet are never so long that you could trample her for eternity. Death is mightier than you. She is noble in death – there she’s not just a Bengali household bride, not just a sister of a couple of cousins, and not just a deprived wife of an insane husband. She’s infinite there.

The music of death touched me deeply, and hurt me intensely through her. I asked my God: why was the most trivial thing in the world the most difficult? Why was this insignificant bubble within the walls of this alley so much of an obstacle? Why couldn’t I overcome the barrier of this door even when your universe with its six seasons invited me so cordially? Why’d I have to perish in this darkness bit by bit when I had such a life and a world you’d offered me? Would it be possible that this mundane triviality of everyday life with its obstacles, taboos and clichés would win and your universe of freedom and bliss lose out?

The music of death went on playing however; where was the wall built by the mason, where was the fence you built with all your restrictions of earthly laws – how could they confine people eternally and humiliate them? There flies high the victory flag in the hand of death! Oh Dear Middle Bride, never fear! It would be just a matter of moments before you could molt your Middle Bride-ship.

I no longer fear your alleys. I have the blue ocean in front of me, and I have the monsoon clouds over my head.

You’d covered me up under the darkness of your habits. Bindu came briefly and looked at the real me through the small openings on that cover. That girl totally tore up the rag using her own death. I came out and saw in amazement that I was full of dignity and glory. He who appreciated my unappreciated beauty now kept looking at me with the whole sky. The Middle Bride now died.

Don’t you think I’m actually going to die. Never worry: I’m not going to play that cheap-old trick on you. Mirabai[13] was a woman like me, and her shackles were no less heavy, yet she didn’t have to die in order to live. Mirabai said in her song, “Let my father rid of me, let my mother give me up, and let all the others do it too, but Mira keeps hanging on. Oh Lord, let anything happen to her, but she won’t give up on you.” That hanging-on itself is the true way to life.

I shall live too. I have lived.

Shelter-Severed Yours,


This image was taken by American photographer ...Image via Wikipedia
(Via Partha Banerjee)
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