Hallucinogens.
The child has been cajoled to sleep in the next house. The cook has been sent to keep her company.
Two past midnight. We have all exhausted ourselves, a deep quiet has descended on us. Susila lies there under the window, laid out on the floor. For there is the law that, the body, even if an emperor's, must rest only on the floor.
We squat on the bare floor around her, her father, mother, and I. We mutter, talk among ourselves, wail between convulsions of grief, but our bodies are worn out with fatigue. An unearthly chill makes our teeth chatter as we gaze on the inert form and talk about it. The first thing to do is to send for the priest and the bearers...(extracted from English teacher, rk narayan)
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Is there a rational way of looking at this? Probably. The first thing that philosophy might be hinting at-detachment. The reason why we lose hold of the things we hold so dear is to learn a lesson: everything has a shelf life. Which is exactly why we tend to hold on to our grief with us in the absence of the loss. We need to siphon something into the vacuum and the only way to keep ourselves occupied is by thoughts of gloom and negativity, which had always existed. These are not something that seem to appeal to our intuition in times of joy, that we negate negative emotions to the point of calling their very existence into question. Happily, we always have the good friend optimism to cast a convenient veil and tell us all is well.
The child has been cajoled to sleep in the next house. The cook has been sent to keep her company.
Two past midnight. We have all exhausted ourselves, a deep quiet has descended on us. Susila lies there under the window, laid out on the floor. For there is the law that, the body, even if an emperor's, must rest only on the floor.
We squat on the bare floor around her, her father, mother, and I. We mutter, talk among ourselves, wail between convulsions of grief, but our bodies are worn out with fatigue. An unearthly chill makes our teeth chatter as we gaze on the inert form and talk about it. The first thing to do is to send for the priest and the bearers...(extracted from English teacher, rk narayan)
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The irony of having to kill and be moved by it did not sink into the madman yet. His lust for killing and torture were way too strong for the trivial powers of premature spirituality. The blood thirsty rage to kill all the brothers and fight a succession battle for four long years have desensitized what little mercy and human-like qualities he had had. He is now the demon, as he sizes up the enemy formation ahead. He bows down, looks at his sword, and inhales. The war, begins. His mind loosens and departs him and he sinks his fangs into his maniacal spirit, injecting more venom to the existing madness. This battle is not for his children, not for his wife, not for his hundred concubines, not for his people, but for him. All this blood sacrifice, only for his ego.
The battle of kalinga begins.
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Forgive me for intruding. I am what you often refer to as an epiphany. Oh no, by no means trouble yourself with waking up. I am meant to show up suddenly, and shock people. Now, you wanted to know what loneliness is? Ah, a very interesting question indeed. More often than not, people are mildly amused at this introspection.
Now, where do I begin. Let's see. You have things under control. You think you have things under control. You see things are under control. Now, one fine evening, everything you have is taken away from you, every single paisa.
You have nothing. How do you react? What is the first lesson that you might learn?
Would it be wise if I presume that you would begin to think that not everything is under control?
Brilliant. Moving on then.
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I am conducting a ritual of deliberate self-humiliation on the instruction of Albert Ellis...he designed it to provide a vivid demonstration of an ancient philosophy, that of the stoics, who were among the first to suggest the path to happiness might depend on negativity.(the antidote, oliver burkemann)
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I am conducting a ritual of deliberate self-humiliation on the instruction of Albert Ellis...he designed it to provide a vivid demonstration of an ancient philosophy, that of the stoics, who were among the first to suggest the path to happiness might depend on negativity.(the antidote, oliver burkemann)
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He spots the blood mark on his shoulder, and thinks it is only a bruise. But then, what about a shaft that is sticking out of the wound? No, nobody would dare do that. Only a coward would. A coward who is symbolical of all that is weak and effete. This would be the work of an asura, an asura so cunning of the mind, that he had had to sink to such depths to win a war. A dishonorable person with an intention that is so low-down, that even the gods would not forgive this man.
But why is the noble prince of Ikshvahu's bow pointed at him? The personification of everything that is perfect -shoots a man in stealth.
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So, now you have nothing. What can we learn from this? Nothing. It is an extreme situation that is even hypothetically impractical given the odds, but then, hypotheses are not always logical. I digress.
Going back, we see that we have been under the simple impression of a life that seems to follow a certain path to a place where there is a denouement in the form of death. When we see a trough, we expect a crest at some point in the future, because we see it as zero-sum. For something that is going up, something has to go down. But what about a loss, from which we can never recover? What about the death of our family, of a child still-born, of a mother who dotes on her child, of the husband who provides for his family? What is this abandonment, and what is a rational way of looking at this?
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"If you think that merely reading history books would help you learn from other's mistakes, consider the following 19th century experiment. In a well-known psychology case, the swiss doctor had an amnesic patient completely crippled with her ailment. Her condition was so bad that he would have to reintroduce her at a frequency of once per fifteen minutes for her to remember who he was. One day, he secreted a pin in his before shaking hers. The next day, she quickly withdrew her hand as the tried to greet her, but still did not recognize him."(the antidote, oliver burkemann)
"If you think that merely reading history books would help you learn from other's mistakes, consider the following 19th century experiment. In a well-known psychology case, the swiss doctor had an amnesic patient completely crippled with her ailment. Her condition was so bad that he would have to reintroduce her at a frequency of once per fifteen minutes for her to remember who he was. One day, he secreted a pin in his before shaking hers. The next day, she quickly withdrew her hand as the tried to greet her, but still did not recognize him."(the antidote, oliver burkemann)
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Her screams wake up the entire universe. How can anybody send such a young boy, hardly of age, to the minefield? How will the little one know the dastardly tactics of the merciless mad world? Why do they go to such great lengths to kill a calf, who is not even aware of the perils of this world? Why, did the good Lord oversee this gruesome act? She curses everyone. Her husband for sending her son into the vortex of death; her brother, the man who audits the checks and balances of everyone's karma; the people around her, for sympathizing with her; the universe, for all the madness that runs around.
That man must be tortured and must scream like her, for her abhimanyu. He must roam the earth, with nary a morsel of food, not an ounce of steel must protect his body and not one on this god-created planet shall provide him haven until compunction brings him to his senses. Yes, he must not die, but suffer.
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Is there a rational way of looking at this? Probably. The first thing that philosophy might be hinting at-detachment. The reason why we lose hold of the things we hold so dear is to learn a lesson: everything has a shelf life. Which is exactly why we tend to hold on to our grief with us in the absence of the loss. We need to siphon something into the vacuum and the only way to keep ourselves occupied is by thoughts of gloom and negativity, which had always existed. These are not something that seem to appeal to our intuition in times of joy, that we negate negative emotions to the point of calling their very existence into question. Happily, we always have the good friend optimism to cast a convenient veil and tell us all is well.
All is well. Yes.
