Isnt Money a beautiful thing??!!

I know the title sounds like an exclamation of Joy from a materialist...But this was the thought that I had when I saw the below picture on the walls of a War Memorial built into a historic Prison site in Seoul, South Korea.

In the War memorial, I got to see various kinds of torture chambers that the Japanese had used on the Koreans, during their invasion of Korea and the Korean fight back for freedom, from 1910 to 1945. I even got to see a moving testimony from some of the men and women who had survived the war and lived to tell the tale, of how heartless the imperialists were. Some of them in the video had no hands, no legs or no nails, as they were cut off by the Japanese torturers, but they somehow had a heart strong enough to fight through all the hurdles and bring freedom to their country!

Intrigued, I started a conversation with the War memorial-museum Manager who was a seeming lady of around 40, and she said with barely suppressed emotion, that "All we are expecting, is a 'Sorry' and an acceptance of the troubles and tortures that the Koreans have faced by the Japanese.If not for the innovatively designed torture chambers reserved for the Korean freedom fighters, we deserve an an apology at least to the 'Comfort women' who were exploited in ways unimaginable by the Japanese military...But even a simple apology is not something that the Japanese are ready to give."

I came back home to Shanghai and narrated this incident to some of my friends, and their response was an angry eruption, but a totally expected one. "They will never say Sorry. Why should they? Unless they are pushed into a corner, they will not. Its all about the power game and about who plays their pawns at the right time to get the right result! Right now, Japan is in a position of power and will not bow down, but maybe sometime in the future...." and they wistfully looked with glazed eyes, into a future, where I imagine a Japanese official is on his knees offering them a lengthy apology!

One of the more pragmatic ones however said, " But today, we need them. Our country is not yet so self sufficient, that we can afford to spoil our relations with Japan." How true!  From electronics, to heavy machinery, when it comes to quality products, the Chinese localites prefer Japanese products and so do the Koreans. When we look at the trade charts of China and Korea, Japan is high up on the %age of trade that the countries carry on with each other.

On one hand. we have the foreign ministries of Korea, China and Japan trying to solve various bloody land disputes even today,which positively laughs at the idea of the countries having any other meaningful relationship, and yet, incredibly, on the other hand, we have the economic ministers drafting new and improved trade policies to enhance trade between the countries. Well yes, the countries are still struggling hard to find their peace with the bloody past that they share. But the beautiful master plan of providence has balanced the resources of the countries in such a way that, both China and Korea, because of necessity, require to maintain an intensive trade relationship with Japan and vice versa. Maybe this is Nature's way of forcing them to make peace with the past, by making them deal with each other through an unemotional monetary relationship that contributes to their countries' growth and their people's happiness, and thus could be an indirect balm on the wounds of past! If Money can actually bring countries together, can make them forget a horrific and bloody past and shake hands in the hope of a better tomorrow, isn't it a beautiful thing?

Courage to achieve happiness - An Egoists privilege?

I think it was somwehere between the ages of 13 and 20 that I was given to understand, categorically, by anyone whose opinion I cared to respect, that "Ego" is certainly not one of the virtues of human kind. That being selfless, and crushing one's ego such that it merges with the universal will should actually be the spiritual aim of one's life.

And then, I read "Fountain head" by Ayn Rand. !!

The story of the exalted nature of man's self in all expressions ranging from self respect, self esteem, self worth, self contempt and personal dignity jolted me out of any conventional values that I have upheld for the last 2 decades!

"As a matter of fact, the person who loves everybody and feels at home everywhere is the true hater of mankind. He expects nothing of men, so no form of depravity can outrage him"

Such an outburst of refreshing philosohphy at a time too when the world's most well known men are judged by their "uselfullness" to the society measured by their charitable contributions and alrtuistic motives! This complete worship given to the individual man and to his ability to contribute something of his own taste to the world, not as a work of charity, not as a sign of selflessness, but as a work of self expression, as an expression of the drive within him because of which he finds it unable to resist his own creative thirst, as a tribute to the best within himself, and as a token of respect to his own self worth, makes me feel so liberated, because I KNOW now, that to be able to do what you really want to do, takes the greatest amount of courage and unless you think yourself worthy of nothing but the highest happiness, you might not have the courage to give yourself that happiness.

The book certainly requires a level of maturity to be able to grasp the essentials and ignore the extremist notions as literary license. It lays bare a series of controversial ideas boldly, without an apology, without inhibitions or hesitation, much like Vidya Balan's performance in "The Dirty Picture".

I can only imagine the supreme self worth that one should possess to charter one's life's journey to the ultimate goal - "The truth". Albert Eintein, Isaac Newton,William Wordsworth and even Steven Speilberg made it their life's business to embrace that very elusive "Truth" through an expression of their creativity or scientific prowess! None of them started out to serve their fellow men, but one cannot refute that their contributions to the society are amongst the most humungous!  And I cannot help but remember Aamir Khan's dialogue in 3 idiots where he says " Dont go behind success, go behind excellence and then success will fight to follow you!!!"

I questioned myself on the theory that being an egoist automatically translates into arrogance and a lack of consideration for others. But then look at it this way....an egoist is also one who considers himself so above comparison with his fellow beings, that he is spared the lesser emotions of jealousy, hatred and envy. He is some one who is the symbol of nothing else save himself. He is the one who, at the end of his life, would be comfortable with the consciousness that he would not have the protective cloak of "concern / consideration for others", to explain away the wrong decisions of his life. He answers to none but himself and since he owes himself nothing but the highest truth, is beyond the necessity to lie, cheat and decieve himself for any of his ends. And neither would he stoop to conquer!

SUCH an exalted respect for self may be completely devoid of pity or sympathy,emotions which lack of respect in their momentary consciousness.  But it elevates one to feel no emotions which lacks respect for one's fellowmen, as they challenge his ego - through their own creative intelligence! This could be the highest tribute that one man can pay to another! The emotion, the secret force, which is probably the reason behind why the competitors in any meaningfull pursuit, also think of themselves as comrades in arms!

I remember a great speech where the orator stumbled onto a particularly precious line when he said that one hears about "falling" in love all the time! When do you think we will start "rising" in love?

Given below are 2 of my favourite excerpts from the book - and I hope my readers find my need to express these words here justified, as they relate to the import of the dialogues below -

1 - “The egotist is the absolute sense is not the man who sacrifices others. He is the man who stands above the need of using others in any manner. He does not function through them. He is not concerned with them in any primary matter. Not in his aim, not in his motive, not in his thinking, not in his desires, not in the source of his energy. He does not exist for any other man—and he asks no other man to exist for him. This is the only form of brotherhood and mutual respect possible between men."

2 -" No, he thought, I regret nothing. There have been things I missed, but I ask no questions, because I have loved it, such as it has been, even the moments of emptiness, even the unanswered–and that I loved it, *that* is the unanswered in my life. But I loved it.
“If it were true, that old legend about appearing before a supreme judge and naming one’s record, I would offer, with all my pride, not any act I committed, but one thing I have never done on this earth: that I never sought an outside sanction. I would stand and say: I am Gail Wynand, the man who has committed every crime except the foremost one: that of ascribing futility to the wonderful fact of existence and seeking justification beyond myself. This is my pride: that now, thinking of the end, I do not cry like all the men of my age: but what was the use and the meaning? *I* was the use and meaning, I, Gail Wynand. That I lived and that I acted."

I have not read this book - I have felt it and lived it. While there are some irrational and impractical notions that I have endeavoured to neglect owing to the overall brilliance of Ayn Rand's performance, reading the book felt like a gift to myself, and a certain step towards self discovery!

Tagore...

MUCH have you given to me,
Yet I ask for more.
I come to you not merely for the

draught of water, but for the

spring ;
Not for guidance to the door alone,

but to the Master's hall ; not only

for the gift of love, but for the

lover himself.
There are some things which make our heart brim and overflow with emotion....it takes a Taare Zameen Par, an MS rendition of "kurai ondrum illai", an orange and pink filled morning sky with the sun at the horizon, the sound of a sanskrit shlok in a foreign land or a Tagore poem.... The above one I read about 7 years ago and it has stayed etched on gold in my memory.....from its sheer beauty of expression!

This poem actually got me reading about Tagore and his works and I was rewarded with a few more nuggets from his compositions....i dedicate this post to Tagore and the emotions that accompany every rendition of his....
A handsome portrait indeed! Well what is to be said of this great poet, writer, playwright, social reformer and educationist that has not been written about and said before?
He started writing poems from the age of 7! In fact, Tagore has never been stable for too long...a man of varied interests and ideas, he found that he could not root himself to a single spot for too long. Right from his schooling days, he found that he was not comfortable with the conventional education methods and preferred having governesses come home to teach him...
He then planned to complete his college education from England and set sail for this purpose westward but returned back to India before completing his college as he wanted to be with this family!
You hide yourself in your own glory,
my King.

The sand-grain and the dew-drop are
more proudly apparent than your-
self.

The world unabashed calls all things
its own that are yours yet it is
never brought to shame.

You make room for us while standing
aside in silence; therefore love
lights her own lamp to seek you
and comes to your worship un-
bidden.

&

WHEN from the house of feast I came
back home, the spell of the mid-
night quieted the dance in my
blood.

My heart became silent at once like
a deserted theatre with its lamps
out.

My mind crossed the dark and stood
among the stars, and I saw that
we were playing unafraid in the
silent courtyard of our King's
palace.

Wow! It would surely take a person who has truly realized and felt the unfathomable love of the creator above to be able to express himself as eloquently as this! He was of course drawn to disapprove any act of inhuman proportions which made him repudiate his knighthood in his historic letter to Lord Chelmsford in 1919 as a protest against the barbaric Jallianwallabagh massacre - an act which must have twisted the chords in the heart of a delicate and sensitive character which he expresses himself as through his poems...
NONE needs be thrust aside to make
room for you.

When love prepares your seat she
prepares it for all.

Where the earthly King appears,
guards keep out the crowd, but
when you come, my King, the
whole world comes in your wake.

His sense of a loving and fair world was what made him a part of the freedom fight as this was against his natural instincts of love and humanity!

MY songs are the same as are the spring

flowers, they come from you.
Yet I bring these to you as my own.
You smile and accept them, and you

are glad at my joy of pride.
If my song flowers are frail and they

fade and drop in the dust, I shall

never grieve.
For absence is not loss in your hand,

and the fugitive moments that

blossom in beauty are kept ever

fresh in your wreath.

How true! A realization that nothing can be regarded as our own in an ephemeral world must have prodded him to actually initiate funding and establish his attempt at a lasting educational institution through which he tried to immortalize a convergence of Indian and western philosophy! A true visionary he was indeed who realized that imitating cultures was a waste and that true development could be achieved only by a synergy of ideas from the orient and the Occident!
You allowed your kingly power to
vanish, Shajahan, but your wish was
to make imperishable a tear-drop of
love.

Time has no pity for the human
heart, he laughs at its sad struggle to
remember.

You allured him with beauty, made
him captive, and crowned the formless
death with fadeless form.
he secret whispered in the hush of
night to the ear of your love is wrought
in the perpetual silence of stone.

Though empires crumble to dust,

and centuries are lost in shadows, the

marble still sighs to the stars, " I
remember."

" I remember." But life forgets,
for she has her call to the Endless :
and she goes on her voyage un-
burdened, leaving her memories to
the forlorn forms of beauty.
What better tribute can the Tajmahal hope to have than these immortalized words of Tagore, as beautiful as the monument itself! While historians may satisfy their cynicism by pointing out that the Taj can hardly be considered to be an of the love of a man for one woman, and can more likely be accounted for as the work of an unrealistic monarch infatuated with his own grandeur, it truly takes a belief in the warmth and love that humanity has left in it, to credit the intentions behind the making of the Taj to pure love as attributed by Tagore in these verses!

HER neighbours call her dark in the
village but she is a lily to my heart,
yes, a lily though not fair. Light
came muffled with clouds when first
I saw her in the field ; her head was
bare, her veil was off, her braided hair
hanging loose on her neck. She may
be dark as they say in the village, but
I have seen her black eyes and am
glad.

The pulse of the air boded storm.
She rushed out of the hut when she
heard her dappled cow low in dismay.
For a moment she turned her large
eyes to the clouds, and felt a stir of the
coming rain in the sky. I stood at
the corner of the rice-field, if she
noticed me, it was known only to her
(and perhaps I know it). She is dark as
the message of the shower in summer,
dark as the shade of the flowering wood-
land ; she is dark as the longing for
unknown love in the wistful night of
May.
The romantic in tagore is rampant in these verses as he describes the inner beauty in woman that he so admired and worshipped! Makes me wonder what a delight he must have been as a partner to Mrinalini Devi, his consort through life!

THOU hast given me thy seat at thy
window from the early hour.

I have spoken to thy silent servants
of the road running on thy
errands, and have sung with thy
choir of the sky.

I have seen the sea in calm bearing
its immeasurable silence, and in
storm struggling to break open
its own mystery of depth.

I have watched the earth in its pro-
digal feast of youth, and in its
slow hours of brooding shadows.

Those who went to sow seeds have
heard my greetings, and those
who brought their harvest home
or their empty baskets have passed
by my songs.

Thus at last my day has ended and
now in the evening I sing my last
song to say that I have loved thy
world.

So sang the man who breathed his last after having loved and enjoyed his transient stay in this playground of the lord....he had played his best - a gentleman's game, and now lives on in the hearts of all those who worship his expression of thought, beauty and romance!