Jayant Sinha

The threat of climate change, nuclear winter, radiation hazards, robotic existence and man-made natural disasters… Welcome to the modern world. Happiness has now become a rare commodity lost in the maze of Science and Technology. We are in danger of converting from homo sapiens to techno sapiens. Science and Technology has progressed far beyond its mandate. It is now controlling our lives rather than being in our control. We have created universal soldiers and Frankensteins in the form of Robots and Androids, which have the potential to destroy humankind, if the experiment goes wrong. The infrastructure that we have created in the name of development have caused greenhouse effect, ozone layer depletion and polluted atmosphere. We have led ourselves into a life of medicated existence. One may argue that our lifespan has increased, but so have our sufferings. We are only treating the symptoms, but the malaise underneath is desperately seeking its ugly head out to destroy our lives.

I am not being pessimistic, but it is time that we show the mirror to the society. We have spawned nuclear nations which can wreak havoc with the press of the button. Intolerance have become a new world order. We have become killing machines out to wipe out humanity in the name of religion and class difference. Is this the kind of society that our forefathers had envisaged for ourselves?

Indiscriminate development and crass commercialization have ruined our nature. We have depleted our natural resources like never before. The water table is residing but ironically the sea level is rising. Almost like a double whammy. The prospect of world war to take control of the fresh water reserves is clear and present danger. We are causing climate change in no small measure. We have scientific evidence of melting of the bipolar ice caps leading to rising sea levels, threatening to submerge countries like Maldives and Bangladesh in a few decades or sooner than we can think. Illegal mining has caused an imbalance in the tectonic plates, leaving us vulnerable to earthquakes. Deforestation in the name of development has resulted in climate change, pollution and acid rain. Instead of learning lessons we are inviting Tsunamis of disaster.

Are we still sold out to the idea of nomadic existence? Do you want a world where we all have to struggle day in and day out for the basic necessities of existence? If you want to live a life of a paleolithic Neanderthal or a Cro-Magnon, then perhaps you have not learnt from history. The world has changed drastically from the prehistoric and medieval times. We now have the freedom to choose the quality of life that we want to lead. The new-found freedom that we cherish today never existed in the times bygone. Now we can make life choices that never existed before. I am not claiming that we have eradicated unhappiness, but then today's world has also given us the opportunity to become happy again if we choose to do so.

We may not be living in a perfect world, but when was the world perfect? In primitive times, the only happiness that was known to our prehistoric ancestors was being successful in managing their daily food and shelter, at the end of an incessant struggle to achieve them. It is a fact that during the medieval times and later, people frequently lost their lives to hunger, pestilence and war. Millions fell prey to the Bengal famine in 1943. Many lost their lives during World War II around the same period. The population of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was decimated due to nuclear bombing in 1945.

Even though war is unavoidable and still raging in some part of the world, we have created a political and institutional order which provides the necessary control mechanisms to reduce their impact and save people’s lives. Food scarcity has been controlled. Modern technology and agricultural practices have vastly reduced the chances of famine, barring few exceptions as a result of governance failure.

Therefore, let us get this right. The world is a better place today, and I am optimistic that it will be an even better place tomorrow. This is because I believe in the spirit of man, I believe in the power of progress. I believe in the healing characteristic of time and I believe in the ability of today’s society to correct itself. These factors combine to make this world a better place to live and prosper.

Let me prove my point with examples. Modern scientific and technological achievements have ensured that we have the benefit of better medical care, better transportation, better communication and better civil amenities. The quality of life and the life span has dramatically increased over the years.

It is said that learning brings miseries, but its absence brings even more miseries. In other words, the more we learn, the more opportunities we have to conquer miseries. The world today has presented us with immense possibilities to enhance our learnings and use them in various ways to mitigate our sufferings. There were limited options to overcome human sufferings in the past, and if my bluntness be pardoned, often times death was the only option to end the suffering. But thanks to the advancements we see in the world today, we have far better control on our lives today than ever before.

My favourite book on Mahabharata is the one written by C. Rajagopalachari. I have read a few other versions as well, but Rajagopalachari’s Mahabharata is my all-time favourite. The most striking aspect of this book is the portrayal of many heroes (or heroines) as the product of circumstances, which make their exploits even more significant.

For example, the act of Ganga in offering her new born babies to the river is portrayed as the supreme sacrifice of a mother in the larger interest of humanity. Bhisma’s oath of celibacy as a devoted son so that his father Shantanu could marry Satyavati, Karna’s offering of his golden armour and earrings to Indra knowing well that it could result in his death in battlefield, Eklavya’s severing his right thumb to offer to Guru Dronacharya, Yudhishtira asking Yaksha to restore the life of one of Madri’s sons, Gandhari choosing to cover her eyes because her husband Dhritrarashtra was blind, Ghatotkach’s martyrdom to protect the lives of the Pandavas and Abhimanyu’s valour in the Chakravyuha are some of the many episodes narrated in the most engrossing manner in Rajagopalachari’s version of the book.

Another interesting aspect of Rajagopalachari’s version is that the villains of Mahabharata have not been depicted with the malice or opprobrium one would expect, but who with their evil ways play a significant role, as destined by providence, to encourage the readers appreciate the virtue of righteousness. Their evil doings provide the context and hope of the emergence of virtue, to vanquish the maleficent, bring justice and peace to the humanity, signifying the victory of good over evil, as immortalised in the following verse from Srimad Bhagwad Gita: यदा यदा हि धर्मस्य ग्लानिर्भवति भारत । अभ्युत्थानमधर्मस्य तदात्मानं सृजाम्यहम् ॥ परित्राणाय साधूनां विनाशाय च दुष्कृताम् । धर्मसंस्थापनार्थाय सम्भवामि युगे युगे ॥

Her Alzheimer’s disease had gone from bad to worse. Her treatment and medicines had cost me a fortune. She did not recognize me, and worse she did not even remember her name or who she was. Even the doctors had given up, though they kept suggesting that miracles do happen. The rigours of taking constant care of her and in the anxiety suffering sleepless nights had taken a toll on my health.  

It was one of those misty, dreary mornings when I had to take her for the ritualistic walk in the park, which the doctor had suggested might be good for her condition. I pulled up my car as she sat glum-faced next to me, oblivious of the world around her. Instead of stopping at the park, I drove around it and took to the highway. Silence was the only communication that existed between us. She seemed to be enjoying the drive, with little knowledge of the mental turmoil I was in. I found myself taking a diversion towards the mustard fields on the dusty countryside. As I opened the door, she excitedly jumped out of the car like a child, enjoying her walk in the new natural surroundings.

***A Poem***

The tree said to the tiny ant You can do a lot of things I can’t In front of the cows grazing on the grass I am no more than a crass Like a monkey, I can’t jump around Alas, I am rooted to the ground Like a baby, I wish I could play But I can only as much as sway I wish I could run like a deer And not doomed to stay just here The birds around me fly and giggle Poor me, I cannot even wiggle Do I not have a life and a soul? It's a pity I am forever standing like a pole! O dear friend, the ant replied with pride Don’t let your thoughts take you for a ride You are as innocent as a boy Your fruits of love we all enjoy In scorching sun or lashing rain You provide us shelter, and take away our pain Your oxygen flows in our blood And you have oft saved us from flood There is no question of ifs and buts You feed the hungry with your fruits and nuts So don’t despair, let your mind be free You’re everyone’s adorable friend O’ tree!

[doppelgänger: ˈdɒp(ə)lˌɡaŋə,-ˌɡɛŋə/ noun

an apparition or double of a living person.]

The man in the purple overcoat was bent over the table in his dimly lit study, reading a particular news in the evening paper with great interest. 

His centre of attention was the news of a man who was being tried for heist in a jewellery shop, and his guilt had been proven beyond a shadow of doubt. Over the last few days, newspapers had been abuzz with reporting on the trial and the burning question was not whether the man would be convicted, but the duration of his sentence.  “He will get a minimum of 2 years in prison,” a legal expert had remarked. “No, the judge hearing the case is known to be a tough guy and I won’t be surprised if he sends the convict for at least 5 years behind bars,” his colleague had argued. However, the loot had not been recovered yet, and even the confession of the accused had not come by, despite hectic interrogations.

Both the police and the public regarded it as an open and shut case. The convict had been foolish enough to leave a trail of tell-tale evidence at the scene of crime, and it did not need a Scotland Yard to apprehend the accused based on the video footage of the surveillance cameras. He had even looked up and blinked at the camera while robbing the jewellery shop. The cameras did not blink though, and police had enough circumstantial evidence to nail him.   

“Jewellery heist accused commits suicide in judicial custody, cremation tomorrow,” the newspaper proclaimed in bold. A sense of vicious relief swept across the man in the purple overcoat. He finished reading the news, sat down silently on his rocking chair, took out a cigar and suddenly burst into a blood curdling guffaw. His crime will be buried forever along with his Doppelganger tomorrow. 

“What does God look like? Can I see or touch God?” I had asked Sister Anne this question several times, but the answer eluded me. She always smiled beatifically before replying, “God is a pure spirit; even if you can’t see or touch Him, you can always feel Him around you.”

Sister Anne was a celebrity of sorts for us school children. A small cane was her constant companion, though it belied the kindness with which she treated us all. I attribute my foundation in Mathematics, to her style of teaching, which made the subject interesting and fun. Besides Mathematics, she was also assigned “take-up” classes when the subject teachers were on leave. She was equally versatile in teaching English, Science and Social Sciences. She made the class interactive and lively with her witticisms. We secretly wished the subject teachers to be absent more often, so that Sister Anne took up those classes. Her energy levels always inspired me.

I remember when some of us were creating ruckus in the class during an interlude, she walked in. She summoned me and a few others, who were involved in breaching discipline. She ordered us to extend our palm, and for the first time, we realized that the cane would finally come of use. The impact of her cane striking our palm was no more than that of a languorous grasshopper lashing us with a twig. Sister Anne called it punishment.

It was a Sports Day. I had taken a nasty fall, and had bruises on both my knees and forearms. Sister Anne lifted me all by herself to the Infirmary, a good distance from the playground. She cleaned my wound with antiseptic and applied first aid. I felt reassured on seeing her do a “Florence Nightingale” and by her gentle touch.