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Ashoka Becomes a Nationalist

Image by Copilot Designer I was in the Virtual Reality Museum when a commotion broke out. Something went wrong somewhere in the museum. When the lights came back on, Ashoka stepped out of the digital screen and greeted me in the most amiable way. I pinched myself to make sure whether I was dreaming. When the power went off, I was speaking with Ashoka – Emperor of Kalinga, 3 rd century BCE – in a VR interaction. Now this is real, Ashoka stood in flesh and blood right before me.   The last question I had asked him in our VR encounter was about his conquest of Kalinga. Didn’t he know that the war would be disastrous even before he began it? That was my question. “The war was necessary,” Ashoka said as he stood in front of me. “Necessary for my spiritual transformation.” He was tired of all the luxury in the palace. There was abundance of everything from food to sex to comforts. “What I lacked was meaning,” he said. So he went and killed those Kalingans who were rebels anyway ...
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The Buddha in the Central Vista

Prime Minister Modi was taking a dip in the mineral water pond constructed on the bank of the Yamuna as part of his weekly photo op when Siddhartha Gautama aka the Buddha walked into the office of the National Committee for Correcting Civilizational Narratives (NCCCN) in Central Vista, New Delhi. An email was received by “Dr Sri Siddhartha Gautama Buddha PhD” from the PMO [Prime Minister’s Office] inviting him to attend a meeting “to authenticate and align the curriculum with indigenous perspectives as part of implementing the National Education Policy, NEP.” Siddhartha was amused on receiving the mail. “Is it possible they still wish to learn after proclaiming themselves the Vishwaguru?” He wondered with a wry smile. He was more amused to see the honorary doctorate conferred upon him by the Vishwaguru Vishwavidyala, in Spiritual Sciences. It’d be interesting to make a visit, he decided. When he entered the opulent office, whose floor was paved with Italian marble tiles, he reca...

Our gods must have died laughing

A friend forwarded a video clip this morning. It is an extract from a speech that celebrated Malayalam movie actor Sreenivasan delivered years ago. In the year 1984, Sreenivasan decided to marry the woman he was in love with. But his career in movies had just started and so he hadn’t made much money. Knowing his financial condition, another actor, Innocent, gave him Rs 400. Innocent wasn’t doing well either in the profession. “Alice’s bangle,” Innocent said. He had pawned or sold his wife’s bangle to get that amount for his friend. Then Sreenivasan went to Mammootty, who eventually became Malayalam’s superstar, to request for help. Mammootty gave him Rs 2000. Citing the goodness of the two men, Sreenivasan said that the wedding necklace ( mangalsutra ) he put ceremoniously around the neck of his Hindu wife was funded by a Christian (Innocent) and a Muslim (Mammootty). “What does religion matter?” Sreenivasan asks in the video. “You either refuse to believe in any or believe in a...

Sex and Sin

Disclaimer: This is not a book review The first discovery made by Adam and Eve after they disobeyed God was sex. Sex is sin in Christianity except when the union takes place with the sole intention of procreation like a farmer sowing the seed. Saint Augustine said, Adam and Eve would have procreated by a calm, rational act of the will if they had continued to live in the Garden of Eden. The Catholic Church wants sex to be a rational act for it not to be a sin. The body and its passions are evil. The soul is holy and belongs to God. One of the most poignant novels I’ve read about the body-soul conflict in Catholicism is Sarah Joseph’s Othappu . Originally written in Malayalam, it was translated into English with the same Malayalam title. The word ‘othappu’ doesn’t have an exact equivalent in English. Approximately, it means ‘scandal’ as in the Biblical verse: “ If anyone causes one of these little ones to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around t...

Helpless Gods

Illustration by Gemini Six decades ago, Kerala’s beloved poet Vayalar Ramavarma sang about gods that don’t open their eyes, don’t know joy or sorrow, but are mere clay idols. The movie that carried the song was a hit in Kerala in the late 1960s. I was only seven when the movie was released. The impact of the song, like many others composed by the same poet, sank into me a little later as I grew up. Our gods are quite useless; they are little more than narcissists who demand fresh and fragrant flowers only to fling them when they wither. Six decades after Kerala’s poet questioned the potency of gods, the Chief Justice of India had a shoe flung at him by a lawyer for the same thing: questioning the worth of gods. The lawyer was demanding the replacement of a damaged idol of god Vishnu and the Chief Justice wondered why gods couldn’t take care of themselves since they are omnipotent. The lawyer flung his shoe at the Chief Justice to prove his devotion to a god. From Vayalar of 196...