Martin Luther King Day

On this day, dedicated to the memory the Reverend Martin Luther King and his message, I would like to recall part of his statement on the occasion of receving the Nobel Prize:

“I refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history. I refuse to accept the idea that the “isness” of man’s present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal “oughtness” that forever confronts him. I refuse to accept the idea that man is mere flotsom and jetsom in the river of life, unable to influence the unfolding events which surround him. I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality. I refuse to accept the cynical notion that nation after nation must spiral down a militaristic stairway into the hell of thermonuclear destruction.

I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. I believe that even amid today’s mortar bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow. … I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits. I believe that what self-centered men have torn down men other-centered can build up. I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive good will proclaim the rule of the land. “And the lion and the lamb shall lie down together and every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid.” I still believe that We Shall overcome!”

As a man of vision King was talking about peace and justice, morality and human dignity, and unabashedly mentioned God. He was   not commenting on the wrestling match between logic and faith,  not worshiping or deriding science, nor extolling or   pooh-poohing  religion. Rather, he was speaking in terms of hope and the human potential for the good.

Visionary leaders of his stature don’t emerge too often in history.  But we may  rejoice that such people can and do emerge in human history.

January 15, 2012

Opera Audition

Just returned from a five hour ecstatic experience of opera auditions in which thirty young contestants treated the audience to a rich variety arias with exquisite skill in the Music Hall of Iowa State University. Some of them may end up at the Met some day. The singers were all between the ages of 22 and 30. As if to show the boundarylesness of music, one of the contestants was a Tamil speaking young woman of Indic heritage.

When one is involved in a matter of service to others, enjoyment of sports, absorption in a novel,  or the experience of good food or music, one is  in an altogether different realm from the vigorous cerebral debates on issues, ideologies, philosophical matters, or doctrinal differences.

Listening to the tenors, baritones and  sopranos was as delightful to my inner being as the philosophical exchanges are eye-opening to my analytical mind.

During an intermission I asked one of the contestants who had belted out to near perfection a Mozart piece from the Zauberflöte whether she spoke German. “Not a word,” she replied, “I only sing.”

“Shame on you,” I was about to say, “You are like the charitable person who doesn’t know the evolutionary forces that drive him/her to charity for species survival reasons.” But then, I said to myself, “I know very well the libretto of this piece, in English and in German; but if I were to even try to sing it, that would be a disaster.”

This reinforced my conviction that it is more interesting, important, and meaningful (for me) to engage in certain worthwhile activities than to be endlessly arguing about their underlying sources: which may be interesting as exercises and even enriching as science, but that has little to do with the fulfillment that comes from the practice (at least for me).

January 7, 2012

Iowa (Republican) Caucus: 2012

Since the whole country, if not the whole world, has been talking about the Iowa Caucus, and I happened to be in Ames, IA, my wife and I decided to visit one of the gatherings. We went to the Bethesda Lutheran Church on 1517 Northwestern Avenue. The parking lot was over flowing. Not being from Iowa, we were  not sure if we would be even allowed to come in.  But contrary to our fears we were wecome, but we were not given a ballot slip which we didn’t want anyway.

The main hall in the church was grand and serene. The tall brick walls were lined with countless small stained glass panels. Up in the balcony behind I could see huge organ pipes.

When we entered, the hall was almost full. We got to sit not far from the front rows. After a brief announcement and the formal election of a chair and a secretary for the session, the proceedings began. But first, envelops were passed around for fund raising.

Then people were invited to make brief comments in favor of one of the several candidates on the Republican roster. One gentleman came and spoke on behalf of Newt Gingrich, saying he wouldn’t vote for anyone else even if he were paid a thousand dollars. He was upset by the negative ads against the candidate of his choice.

A young man came and spoke highly about Ron Paul who, he said,  was so different from the other candidates, and who would bring fresh ideas to Washington. How things change! The oldest candidate was favored by the youngest members of the electorate. Talk of generation gap!

A political figure from Texas, probably a senator from that state, came and appreciated the welcome he had received in Iowa, and went on to extol Perry. Not many people clapped.

There was a warm supporting statement for Mitt Romney who was described as the one with the greatest chance of defeating Obama.

One gentleman thought Senator Santorum expressed best the mood and spirit of Republicans today, he probably meant many Republicans in Iowa.

No one came forward on behalf of Michelle Brachman or John Huntsman: the right-most and the left-most of the candidates, I thought..

Then everyone marked their choice on the slip they had received. These were put it into one of several cardboard boxes with a hole that were passed around.

That was it: This group of Republicans gathered there had expressed their inclination for one candidate or another.

Thus I witnessed grass-roots democracy at work.

We returned home to get the latest news from IV  on how things were going elsewhere in the city and the state.

January 4, 2011

Adieu 2011!

Oh 2001, like every other year, you have been good for some and bad for others, terrific for some and horrible for others, enjoyable for some and painful for others. You will be remembered in history:

For the unrest in the Middle East which has been successfully dethroning its decades-old dictatorships, with the task still uncompleted.

For the huge movement in India to root out the endemic corruption in politics, government, educational institutions, and business: a project which has had thus far only partial success.

For the capitulation, capture and corpse-drowning of Osama BL, the instigator of 9/11 which has led to more than a decade of air-port screening/ He was enjoying safe sanctuary in Pakistan, unbeknownst, we are told, to the government of that nation.

For the ruthless bombardment of Momar  Kaddafi’s realm by NATO forces in the name of protecting Libyan civilians, and the final murder of Momar.

For Iran’s continued efforts to make itself nuclear-bomb-capable, and its bold and irrepressible defiance to the West.

For frequent announcements that China is on the verge of overtaking the U.S., and also prognostications to the effect this will not happen..

For the disgrace of Dominique Strauss Kahn, the 62 year old former head of the International Monetary Fund who was paraded as a criminal in New York City because of the accusation of violent hanky-panky with an African chamber maid in a posh Hotel. He escaped a 25 year prison term because the accuser seemed to be prone to habitual mendacity.

For the horrific tsunami in Fukushima (Japan) which caused a nuclear disaster of no small proportions, and for hurricanes, tornados in other parts of the world no less, in  the U.S., Indonesia, the Philippines, Tamil Nadu and more.

For the financial disaster in Europe, especially in Greece, Italy, and Spain.

For the ups and downs of Republican Presidential hopefuls, which included Hermann Cain who had to step out because of his extra-marital sexual adventures.

For the death of the North Korean leader Kim Jong Il, only to be succeeded by his youthful son Kim Jong Un who promises to be as sullen, sour and secluded as his dead Dad.

For reports from some physicists that some neutrinos may moving faster than light, for getting data that almost confirm the existence of the Higgs boson, and for the spotting of a very earth-like planet, some 600 ly away from us.

Like every year, you too have taken away some of the cherished members of the human family. The U. S.  lost, among others,  Peter Falk, Andy Rooney, and Steve Job.

I am sure you will be remembered for a thousand other things by billions of other people, as I will remember you for the publication of my fourteenth and fifteenth books: Reflections on the Scientific Enterprise and Indic visions in an Age of Science.

These are some highlights that to my mind on this last day of the year numbered for you.

Adieu 2011

I wish 2012 to be a year of health and happiness to all my readers in this Blog and elsewhere, and hope to hear from them comments and reciprocal greetings.

December 32, 2011

Vienna and Die Zauberflöte

Many decades ago I was in the Austrian capital Vienna with a group of friends, all fellow students from the Sorbonne. We did the usual tours like the Schönbrunn Palace with its Baroque splendor, reminding us a little of Versailles, admired the Donau, even went as far as Grinzing. At one point one of us began humming An der schönen blauen Donauone. We went to the ancient cathedral of St. Stefan,  admired the bell tower there, and heard the story that Beethoven once saw birds flying out of the hollow when the bells tolled, but could not hear them ring: which is how he discovered he had turned deaf. One Christmas eve, we listened to Sille Nacht Heilige Nacht sung in the Cathedral. We had an exotic dinner at the Rathhauskeller,  the spacious underground restaurant famous for its Austrian cuisine. The minstrels walked from table to table, playing on their instruments pieces of  schrammel: Viennese music. It was all very delightful.

But  the most memorable of all our experiences  was the visit on December 21 1955 to the Staatsoper which had opened barely two months earlier. There, standing with a crowd of a few hundred people who also opted for the cheap-ticlet-stand, I saw Mozart’s  Die Zauberflöte performed at a far away stage: That was  my first operatic delight. I was tickled by the Bird-catcher’s ditty of which I could barely make out the words Der Vogelfänger, and I was most impressed by the coloratura as she belted out the shrill of the Queen of the Night.

Over the years I have seen this fantastic (in more than one sense of the word) opera many times, mostly on TV, video-tape, and DVD. As coincidence would have it, I saw it again on December 21 this year, exactly 56 years to the date after my first seeing it in Vienna. This time it was at the huge Century Theater on Maple Avenue in Evanston, IL. [I thought of my friends who had been with me at the Staatsoper. Some of them have passed on.] I was not too enthusiastic about going to see it when I read that it was going to be a modern abridged version in English. I don’t usually care for such tampering with the original. I went this time only because it was a presentation by the Met.

But it turned out to be most enjoyable. Yes, the stage decors and props and serpent and giant creatures all seemed at times a bit much. At first the English sounded somewhat out of place. But as the show progressed and the singing was incredibly superb and the rhymed translations so correct, concise, and cute that I put my biases to the background and just enjoyed the opera as children (for whom it was intended) would. This could indeed be an excellent introduction to opera for youngsters.

Nathan Gunn stole the show as Papageno, whether he was struggling to sing when his mouth was locked or stuttered with Papagena about the chicks to be born.  Erika Miklosa was simply superb as the bellowing bad queen. Her features and mouth-distortions exuded the required  evil while the modulations of her voice epitomized what great arias are supposed to sound like. Tamino reminded me a little of Mikado of Gilbert and Sullivan in his costume, but he was very good also, as were  Sarastro  and Monostatos. Julie Taymor‘s stage  was grotesquely grand.

Dec 27, 2011

The Miniature Rooms at the AI of C

I have been to the Art Institute of Chicago many times, and every time it has invariably been enriching, whether admiring the Silk Road Exhibit, or enjoying the works of Salvador Dali or Julien Levy or whatever. With my cultural bias I always spend some time in the Asian room standing at various Hindu sculptures. Origin-wise, the Nataraja from Tamil Nadu seems natural, the Karttikáya on a peacock from Madanapalle in Andhrapradesh is somewhat surprising, but interesting;  while the Dasávatara from Bangladesh and the Head of a Bodhisattva from Pakistan strike me as anachronistic and dystopic, if not downright offensive. But then Haga Sophia is in Turkey and there is an Empangeni Baptist Church in Zululand. History has played countless dirty tricks, mingling and mangling cultures and locations.

But the memorable experience this time (December 23, 2001) was the hours I spent in The Thorne Rooms. Here I discovered for the first time the fruits of the project of a certain Mrs. Narcissa Niblack Thorne: Sixty eight miniature rooms, decorated and furnished with incredible taste and charm, reflecting classical living styles of the upper class at various periods in different countries: England, France, Germany and the United States mainly, with one Chinese and one Japanese room in the collection.

The chairs and sofas, the stacked bookshelves and writing tables, the carpets on the floor and the paintings on the wall, the grandfather clocks and lamps and chandeliers, all made the mini rooms exquisite,  feasts for the eyes. As one peered into the rooms, in many instances one could see through doors into adjoining rooms; and staircases, winding or straight, leading to an upper floor. Also, the windows with the tiny open curtains gave glimpses of a green yard or a flowery garden with fences, and sometimes one could see buildings across the street.

I told my daughter that these human-made things were more beautiful than even the lakes  and rivers, valleys and mountains, planets and stars that Nature had constructed. But my daughter reminded me that life forms crafted by Nature, whether spider or sparrow, fox or fish, were infinitely more complex and of comparable beauty, and indeed that the human body and mind which made miniature rooms surpassed in creativity and potency anything we can think of. The human body and mind are creations of Nature or God.

I agreed. And  I am happy that some humans utilize their talents to create things of beauty which are joys for ever, even while some others wreak havoc and hate on fellow creatures.  I am grateful that the Art Institute of Chicago has made these three dimensional visual delights within reach of thousands of people  

December 26, 2011

On Christopher Hitchens

The Army of Atheist Fundamentalism has lost one of its able generals in its crusade against Religions. But the  writings and legacy of Christopher Hitchens will continue to inspire millions in the years to come.

Hitchens’  righteous indignation against the evils of bigotry was always eloquently and forcefully expressed. Sometimes he seemed to carry this beyond the reason he often extolled, as when he disparaged  Mother Teresa and gave his ardent support for the Iraq War.

Like the garbage collector who imagined from what he saw week after week that households generate nothing but garbage, he concluded from what he saw of their ugly aspects that religions give rise to only superstitions, stupidity, and fanaticism.

Hitchens was no Bertrand Russell in the polished dignity of  language contra religion, but then he belongs to an age where civil discourse is no longer in vogue, where mutual contempt in exchanges is the norm.

If, as he was convinced, he was no more than a brilliant blob of mindless matter with molecules, it is sad to see such a premature termination of its vigor and virtues.

If, however, the less probable side of Pascal’s Wager turns out to be true, then some might wish his transformed state eternal peace. But  such hope and wish would be regarded as absurd and offensive by his followers. So I will be silent on this.

Whatever the case, Christopher Hitchens  was undoubtedly among the prestigious array of  thinkers who, all through the ages,  understood fully whatever is terrible in the mindless and heartless niches of religions.  

I salute him for the integrity, forthrightness, and courage with which he spoke out against the pernicious potential of religion: a matter that needs to be periodically brought to everybody’s attention.
It would serve humanity no less if keen thinkers like Christopher Hitchens also recognized the  positive contributions of religions to human culture and to the human condition.

December 19, 2011

A Visit to the Taj

From New Delhi we took a car, on a bright and sunny day.

Our goal was to drive to the Taj all the way.

Past crowded streets and traffic thick we reached at first, not last,

The Grand Trunk Road where vehicles moved both slow and fast.

Cars, trucks and bullock carts, and rickshaws motorized,

Cycles bearing more than one, and buses oversized

Seemed to roll as they pleased, and this I did suspect:

That there were no good traffic rules, which wielded much respect.

They crossed the lines and overtook, at random, one assumes.

Honking horns ceaselessly, midst all the exhaust fumes.

Past Mathura and Brindavan, where Krishna once had played,

Past scores of little towns, where people prayed and stayed.

Past accidents on the roads, and trucks broken down,

We reached at last the congested and famous Agra town.

And is this Agra, this the town, of which my fancy cherished!

So like Wordsworth did I feel: An image that just perished.

We parked the car in a crowded lot, and took a van to Taj:

That great and famous monument, of the extinct Mogul Raj.

We stood and saw the awesome Taj, with the vast blue sky behind,

To describe it and its charm, enough words we couldn’t find.

Stupendous,  glorious, it stood proud and serene,

It was a feast to our eyes, nothing such we’d ever scene.

Its symmetry was striking, its majesty was grand,

It was the most beautiful structure in the land.

The marble and the etchings, its ornate profusion,

The architect’s devices to cause some illusion,

The minarets, the domes, the mosques on either side,

The peaceful tank that lay in front the pathways long and wide:

The tombs within the building, of the king and his queen.

All made us just exclaim, “What a magnificent scene!”

It was sad the Mogul’s beloved wife, died when she was so young.

But if she had lived to ninety three, would the Taj ever have sprung?

Unhappy things do happen in life, this of course is true.

But sad things in life and history, may bear some good fruits too.

December 5, 2012

On Optimisn and Pessimism

Optimism and pessimism are appraisals/evaluations/predictions of the future, based not only, or no so much, on current knowledge/data, but on our interpretation of the same. The interpretation is influenced by a number of factors, ranging from past experiences and upbringing to natural disposition and efforts to be objective. Perhaps at a subconscious level it is influenced by our deepest hopes and fears of which, obviously, we are not aware.

Optimism need not dull us into complacency, nor need pessimism numb us into resignation.

Whether we are optimists or pessimists about ourselves or the world, we can always work to better the current status. That is what really matters, irrespective of how we see the as yet unraveled future.

I am optimistic that our current pessimism about the world will goad us to actions that have the potential to ameliorate the human condition, in however small a measure. I am also optimistic because – as someone said – the pessimist may be right in the long run, but it is the optimist who has fun all along the way.

Whether it is to paradise or to the other place, we can always try to make the mental journey to it cheerful, and that is the great merit of optimism. Convinced that we are on the road to the precipice, we may be spurred to change course, and that is what pessimism can, in principle, do.

November 24, 2011

Question and Answer on Empathy

In an internet conversation, the following question was posed.

Am I wrong in thinking that to promote empathy for those with whom you are sympathetic while demonizing those with whom you disagree is the secular version of claiming that God is on your side?

My answer: In my view, you are not only not wrong, but are absolutely correct.

Furthermore, you have drawn attention to a most important impediment to any solution of the countless problems we are facing today, both within and among nations.

This <God/Truth is on my side, and on my side alone, while the Devil/Falsehood is with my enemy> complex is as ancient as ideological wars which have raged and ruined human history time and time again.

Yes, for long this ailment plagued (and continues to plague) only religious bigots and zealots who were/are convinced that their own vision of God and prophet  was/is the only correct one, and that those who disagreed were deserving of and would surely be expedited to some very hot and uncomfortable transcendental region that is awaiting the erring souls in their post mortem phase.

Thank goodness we came to a period in  history when the forces of Enlightenment took control (at least in some parts of the world) and shielded dissidents from ruthless persecution.

But now, those liberating forces are themselves beginning to embrace the mindset of fearsome theocracy.

Though I am myself prone to side with the groups that are disparagingly labeled liberals when it comes to fighting for a cause, at the philosophical level I am bewildered and frightened by true believers on both sides.  Their blindness to whatever shred of goodness there may be in their ideological adversaries not only provokes escalating verbal abuse of and attitudinal contempt for the other, but also makes solution to any serious problem virtually impossible.

That is why I fear there is very little hope for resolving our many problems as long as this medieval intolerance of contrary views in thought and word  continues to persist.

November 22, 2011