Endangered species

It appears that we modern humans, that is the present-day people living all over the World (‘homo sapiens’), evolved sometime over 200,000 years ago.  This figure keeps on changing with newer research studies!  I think for most part of their evolutionary lives, men and women were purely meat-eaters in their dietary habits! Hunting, gathering and having fun eating all moving creatures that were palatable, and provided sustenance, I guess.    I understand that as a consequence of human migrations into new regions of the world, there has been the extinction of many animal species indigenous to those areas. Human hunters apparently had played a large part in the extermination of large species of animals including majority of the larger ones like mammoths, mastodons, giant sloths, etc. Most of these extinctions apparently occurred within a few hundred years and we humans were very likely the trigger that set off these catastrophic events. I am digressing, this is not a piece about palaeoanthropology. Pulling myself back on track,  I simply wished to point out to my dear readers, that I was born a strict "vegetarian" in my dietary habits (or more precisely a lacto-vegetarian in today’s parlance). Being vegetarian in today’s World has its own kind of drawbacks or disadvantages; to put it mildly, this has jeopardised my place as an honourable member of the society! In other words, due to my vegetarian dietary habits, I had sometimes been an object of ridicule and sometimes made fun of; this is my claim, of course, judging from people’s reaction!

Having stayed in the Middle East for quite a few years, my dietary habits were always a source of discomfort and embarrassment to me. Most of my colleagues at work and friends outside work were strict non-vegetarians! They loved the variety of dishes that were offered in the innumerable swanky Restaurants and were proud of their dietary habits! They happily gobbled up the choicest dishes available from all over the World served in the best Restaurants of that place. One of my colleagues at work always constantly needled me pointing that I was missing out on the good things in life; tastiest and best food in life by following the 'vegetarian' route! After all, what’s the use of living such a miserable ‘vegetable’ life, if you cannot taste the best food the World had to offer to non-vegetarians!

While travelling on Middle-Eastern flights, I have always been rather embarrassed to point myself as a vegetarian to the stewardesses. You see, the stewardesses do not like passengers who disturb their rhythm and create interruptions, while serving/distributing food trays. During one of such flights, I still vividly remember, the beautiful stewardess, giving me a cold stare when I told her that I was a vegetarian and would like a vegetarian meal; she stared at me hard and coldly, I thought; she was hoping that I would soon revise my dietary choice so that she can swiftly get on her way to serve other passengers! I can still feel her chilling looks on me (she wasn’t that beautiful anymore!); looking at me as if I was an alien from another world. I felt more embarrassed as other passengers in my row started staring up at me too with horror, as if I was pointing a loaded revolver at the stewardess! Unfortunately, adding further fuel to the embarrassment was the fact that all the other passengers in my row were of Middle-Eastern origin. I couldn’t find a sympathetic Indian face who could understand my plight and lend me moral support in the situation! I didn’t budge; I gathered all my inner strength and stood my ground repeating my request to the stewardess. I could see the chilly-cum-mildly hopeful expression on her face fall once again; which gradually turned into a stiff forced smile (no doubt, she was trained well by the Airline not to give chilled looks for long, directed towards passengers!); she realized that I was steadfast in my resolve to have a vegetarian meal. However, my beautiful stewardess was made of a stronger mettle; she wasn’t the one to give up the fight so easily. Making a last-ditch effort, she announced that she didn’t have any vegetarian option as it was a short flight. It was my turn to show dismay and we were back to square one. But I too, wasn’t in any mood to give up. Travelling continuously over a period of years, I had gained in confidence and had learnt the art of dealing with ‘beautiful-cum-chilly-looking' stewardesses; I asked her what are the options she had in her ‘pantry’ or whatever they call it on aircrafts. She thought for a moment and told me that she could give me a cake at the most. Getting wary, I instinctively asked her if it was made of egg (I was a strict vegetarian you see!); to which she replied she didn’t know.  Even  I knew that cakes have an element of eggs in them. The stewardess was steadfastly looking at me with piercing eyes now! I could clearly make out that she had her doubts confirmed that here was a specimen or alien if you will, from some other planet!  After all, how long can you hold up an airline stewardess, however beautiful she might be to look at; she has to attend to many more passengers! After such high drama in the air, I felt defeat pass over me. I said, never mind, I didn’t want any of the food the airline has to offer. The stewardess moved away serving food trays to other passengers; the smile back on her face. She looked beautiful once again!

I don’t know if my luck had turned on that day! The beautiful stewardess was back in minutes holding out a small pack of chocolates towards me. I gratefully accepted her offer and promptly pocketed it. Being diabetic, I wasn’t supposed to eat chocolates you see, but I had a family which loved any variety of chocolates!

There was another incident that stands out in my memory clearly to this day. We had a party going in our office and many dishes had been ordered from an Arabic Restaurant nearby. The choice of vegetarian dishes was limited, as I was the lone vegetarian in the office. After the food order was received, the dishes were served, spread out on a table. Some of my office colleagues had already started nibbling away at their choicest picks. There was a dish looking very much like an Indian ‘Roti’, that was spread out on a tray. I was looking across the dishes wondering which of the spread was suitable for my consumption. I was trying to determine if it was a plain ‘Roti’ or some stuffed ‘Roti’, perhaps. Making up my mind, I finally zeroed in on one ‘Roti’, which looked quite inviting! I picked it up. Suddenly I heard a voice saying that it was a meat preparation. As quickly as I had picked it up, I instantaneously dropped the ‘Roti’ back in the tray; scrubbing at my hands as if I had touched a hot iron rod! Seeing my reaction, there was shock followed by laugh riot all around. All my colleagues had a field day,  guffawing at my expense. One of my colleagues, of Middle-Eastern origin, felt insulted and announced that he couldn’t eat the stuff after seeing my extreme reaction. I promptly apologised and hurried back to my cubicle. I couldn’t eat any food for the entire day! It was bad behaving the way I did, I had also unabashedly insulted my colleague. I could offer no explanation, other than the lame excuse that I was a vegetarian! As a parting shot, one of my office colleagues, in half jest told me that she would make all out efforts to convert me to eat chicken before I finally left the country. However, her wish remained unfulfilled, as I have steadfastly remained a vegetarian to this day!

During my entire stay in the Middle-East, I have hardly come across a person with strict vegetarian dietary habits like me (including not eating eggs or even onion/garlic), which made me realize that I and some of my ilk were part of a miniscule group of people surviving on their last legs of human evolutionary cycle! In my opinion, the vegetarians could be hardly around 1 or 2% of the World population, if such survey could ever be conducted! Could I take the liberty of mentioning that this tiny vegetarian group of surviving people (or ‘tribe’) is certainly a vanishing species or an endangered one; soon to be named perhaps as, ‘homo-veggy’ or something similar shortly after disappearing from the human evolutionary cycle!

The newspaper 'editorial' piece

Back in the days when I was still a school boy, one of my Uncles had exhorted me sternly to start reading newspaper ‘editorials’ to improve upon my English communication capabilities. This was his angry outburst to my terribly misspelled simple English words and my poor usage of English sentences in an essay I had casually written as part of a mandatory school vacation exercise. His continued  tirade against my English writing skills was rubbing off on me poorly.  I was riled at his regular admonishing, but couldn’t do anything about it, though.  He was my eldest maternal uncle.  Finally, I took his advice, rather hesitantly and wistfully.  The main issue was my family was not subscribing to any newspapers as we couldn’t afford it at that point of time.  However, much later, when our financial position improved, we started subscribing to an English language newspaper 'Deccan Herald', which was quite popular in Bangalore, but then it was too late.  My brains' ability to make new neural connections or pathways, were almost in its last phases, to wit, I was too old, all of 16 or 17 years of age!

It was the late sixties.  The common middle class people were not in the habit of subscribing to newspapers nor had any TV news channels to watch as Televisions were still not available to us, then.  Only radios were the common man’s source for entertainment, information and knowledge.  There were roadside libraries in a few old and established areas of Bangalore like Gandhi bazar, Malleswaram and Chamarajapet and of course, the main City Central Library in South end Jayanagar.  I was a frequent Library visitor. You could see me there, any hour of the day, quietly ensconced in the newspapers section. After getting bored with the newspapers’ drab news coverage, I would slowly wander into the inside of the Library section where fiction books were stored searching for racy and trashy thrillers. The likes of James Hadley Chase or Earl Stanley Gardner was my first choice.  You guessed it right!  These books were far and few and had been snatched up by the regular Library members.  My desire was to secure a membership to the Library which was again, unaffordable to me in those early days.  To cut a long story short, I was always on the lookout to borrow these thrillers from friends and a couple of Uncles.  I have quite a collection now, apparently, there are no takers for the books anymore.  Glued to the phones or TV screens, the book-reading era has passed into oblivion. 

Back to the story.  My newspaper 'editorial' hunting took me to different branches of the City Central Libraries, which had mushroomed across various localities of Bangalore in the later years.   Instead of reading newspapers, I had become enamored of the thrillers of the day. Again, you ask me, what’s the point of all this.  Well, in my defence, the point I am trying to make is, I never quite caught on to reading newspaper 'editorials' which, perhaps, is the cause of my poor writing abilities; below par choice and usage of words.  My Uncle would have strongly rebuked me for not sticking to his advice, had he been alive now. 

Nevertheless, the point I am trying to make is that, whatever be your English language skills, the world goes on, with or without learning or acquiring English knowledge.  Precisely, it is not a required skill in effectively doing your job, whatever that is, unless if you are in the profession of English newspaper production. 

 

The City of Dreams - A teenage love story!

He had always wanted to visit Bombay as a young man in his late teens (apologies, it is Mumbai, now; but then, he always remembered Mumbai as Bombay, the city of dreams). He had heard that Bombay was a bustling and glamorous city filled with beautiful and enterprising people and above all, the city that never sleeps. When he first travelled to Bombay by a train from Bangalore, it was raining heavily when he reached the outskirts of Bombay.  The bustling activity in the station had jolted him out of the deep slumber, which he had fallen into while the train had glided slowly into the station. At a station on the outskirts, he had to switch trains and board a local train at about 3 AM in the morning. The local train was overflowing with milkmen and their families loading and unloading huge milk cans into and out of the train.  He had reached his uncle’s place in about ten minutes by the local train.  His first impression of Bombay, was, that the city is always awake.  People were going about their activity at all times of the day and night.  Many a time, he had wondered when do these people sleep, amidst all the hustle and bustle?

For the next few days, he gradually explored the city, as he had nothing much to do.  He had completed his graduation in Bangalore and landed in Mumbai (staying in his uncle’s place on the outskirts of Bombay) in search of a job.  The job searches consisted of merely looking into the columns of Times of India newspaper daily for any suitable opening, which was hard to come by, during the late seventies.

He bought a second class season local train pass for the entire month from the part of the city (where he was residing) to the centre of the city that was, Victoria Terminus, called VT, during those days.  After his morning breakfast, he had set himself a daily routine of boarding the train and travelling to VT station.  From there on, he had no place to go.  He explored the city walking alone from the VT station to the nearby places that he fancied, mostly in the direction of the Arabian Sea, which was quite near to the station; this was at a walking distance of half hour, at the most.  Sometimes he walked down to Crawford Market or to Colaba.  His regular walks within the vicinity of the VT station had become a sort of daily ritual.  Being young and alone in Bombay with hardly any money, can be quite exhausting and excruciating.  The lonely walks created an intense feeling of disenchantment in his mind.  Just looking at the Sea intently, while lazily strolling on the sands of a beach, alone, can be a rather jolting and tiring experience.  Once this daily job of staring at the Sea was done, he used to hurry back by the late afternoon local train to the part of the city, where he was staying with his uncle, after partaking of a light meal in a nearby cafe.

The experience of boarding and alighting from the local trains in Bombay, was, in itself, a huge and scary experience.  Luckily for him, he used to board the train after the mad office rush was over in the morning times and even before the evening office rush started, he used to travel back to his place of stay.  He had learnt the trick of avoiding the rush hour on the local trains as it was a physical impossibility to get into or get out of the train during those mad rush hours.  One had to be a seasoned veteran of Bombay to master the tricks of boarding and alighting from the local trains during peak hours.  He was not quite there, yet.

In the first few days, he used to watch this mad rush of humanity, boarding and alighting from the local trains, with amusement.  After a few days, the amazement faded away and it was fast becoming normal routine with him, as well. He wouldn’t call himself an expert, in this activity, though he had a few close calls, a couple of times.  It had almost felt that his end had come, during those times, when he was left dangling, hanging without any support holding on to the ledge of the train doors.  He had miraculously scraped through, surviving those terrifying moments.  He could now say, that he was lucky to be alive.

The vast sea of humanity, that is Bombay, is an experience, in itself, that one can never get over.  The sheer number of people, in every direction you look at, is just mind-boggling. Despite the vast number of people, the place can be humbling and quite lonely.  Being a shy person and an introvert at that, he had difficulty in striking acquaintances in the trains or on the beaches.  He stood staring, sometimes, at the various moods of the Arabian Sea, the dirt and remains it carried to the shore; huge ships and trawlers were visible at a distance.  He was devoid of human company and wanted someone with whom he could share his innermost thoughts and the situation he was himself in.

One sunny morning, during one of his long walks on the Seashore, he came very close to striking friendship with a beautiful girl, who appeared to be of his own age.  She had a dog with her.  He first thought that she smiled at him, though this was more of his imagination, playing tricks on his mind.  She was slowing down as she approached him.  The girl was of medium height, wearing a smart dress with long hairs flowing down her neck.  He was tempted to strike a conversation with this girl as she was comely in appearance and was alone; other than the dog, she was holding on to, at the other end of the leash.  As she neared him, he remarked that the dog she owned, looked beautiful and he asked her, what was the breed of the dog. She replied something, which he couldn't remember now.  What actually he wanted to say to her was that she looked beautiful and would she be friends' with him.  It was an awkward moment.  The girl was looking at him inquiringly, as she paused right in front of him.  She appeared more beautiful now and her eyes were sparkling; she had long eye lashes. There was a hint of a smile on her face, as she looked at him.  He was dumbstruck and could hardly speak another word; as the girl came near him, her close presence and the perfume she wore held him in a mesmerizing spell.  He was speechless, staring dumbly at her. His heart was pumping and he could feel the blood rush through his veins, pulsating and throbbing.  He could feel his dopamine levels rise, leading to a warm and happy feeling.  He let go of the moment.  The girl walked away slightly disappointed, he thought.  He kept on staring after the girl, as she disappeared in a distance.  He had a strange feeling, perhaps, he thought this was what people called love at first sight.  It was a strange and bewildering thought.

From that moment on, his mind was in a whirl, racing with mixed emotions, unable to fathom what was happening in his mind.  He desperately wanted another opportunity to just see this girl, even for a moment.  During his entire stay, of nearly an year in Bombay, he never came across this girl again.  A strange sort of hopelessness had swept over him, disappointed with his own shy and reticent nature; adding to his hopeless situation was the fact that he could never find a suitable job in Bombay during his year long stay, in the city.  People called it the city of dreams, but, not to his mind.  He returned to Bangalore, shortly afterwards quite disappointed with the situation.  What could have been a love story, that never was!  These thoughts kept revolving in his mind. 

The story of each human life on earth lies in unraveling and experiencing the complex emotions that pervade the mind through the different phases of life.  Seizing the moment to connect with the emotion called love is perhaps one of them! 

chocolatey goodness!

Chocolate is a wonderful treat for young and old alike. Many of us would have craving for chocolates, especially if you have been told not to eat anything sweet! Perhaps, if one is a diabetic, like me, the craving for chocolate increases many fold. I am sure, most of us would agree that chocolate is one delicacy that you cannot resist and even defies age barrier. My late mother (while on 87), loved to lap up on the chocolates with a childlike demeanour, although she used to say that she had lost the taste for other kinds of food. It is very rare, indeed, to come across a person who does not love chocolates. The only person I knew, who said a vehement “No” to chocolates was my grandmother, which was perhaps because, she was an extremely pious person and was convinced that chocolates did have eggs or something other than vegetarian ingredients.

As kids of sixties, chocolate was handed out to us sparingly with a mild warning to avoid them in excess; we were told they would spoil our teeth. The adults used to regularly point us to children having rotten/bad teeth as examples of the effects of indulging in too much chocolates. It was ingrained in us, as children, that chocolates were bad stuff. Pardon me for saying so, the dentists, who were very few in number those days, used to make a killing with chocolate-consuming young children as their regular clientele! There are various studies, these days, which says that dark chocolate is healthy because it contains flavonoids, which act as anti-oxidants. Had these studies been published when we were younger, perhaps, life would have been much more 'chocolatey' and delightful for us kids!

As young kids, we often imagined of a “chocolate-filled dream land”, where a variety of chocolates were available for the picking; in abundance, spread out on  the streets.  A life where there were no restrictions from adults citing bad teeth concerns or cost-prohibitive barriers; where one was free to indulge in the different kinds of chocolates available and savour them to ones' heart’s content.  Just imagining a scene from the movie 'Charlie and the chocolate factory' releases the happy harmone "serotonin" in my brain.  What if those chocolate dreams were real!  

Those days, the milk chocolates bars (like Cadbury’s) were very expensive for ordinary folks to afford; the chocolates that were generally gifted were of the candy variety with a mild coating of chocolate; either Parry’s brand (with green transparent wrapper) or Parle brand ('Kismi') candies or toffees. I still remember, as children, we used to mistakenly call toffees and candies as chocolates, due to the chocolate colouring and coating. These were the candies distributed by children in our School days, on their birthdays.  On some very special occasions, our parents used to treat us to real milk chocolates, like the Cadbury’s chocolate bars. We were not aware of any other brand of chocolates till very much later in life.  

Buying chocolates in bulk quantity and enjoying them had become a habit with me, during my stay in the Middle East. There were huge discounts available at various Department Stores and Malls where the chocolates could be bought cheap in bulk quantity.  We were so buoyed up to have tasted different brands of chocolates produced from different countries; the Belgian variety or the Swiss variety and even the French variety. Life was, indeed, a “chocolate dream” come true.  Obviously, when there is too much of “chocolatey goodness” in life, can the dreaded “diabetes” be far behind! Thanks to this debilitating condition, all our chocolate buying spree came to an abrupt end, leaving behind only the "craving" to eat more chocolates!

My early memories of Jayanagar

I still think, Jayanagar is the best locality to live in Bangalore.  Though, arguably it has grown beyond its breeches, with crass commercialization all around; it still retains the old world charm in some pockets, with its quaint streets lined with red flowering trees interspersed with old-style individual bungalow type traditional houses. The recent plethora of apartments/flats bombay-style, is booming all around Bangalore and Jayanagar is no exception to this trend.  As the availability of empty sites is less, and arguably residents are loathe to give up on their old bungalows, the trend is a bit slow in catching up to the rest of Bangalore.  The offerings of flats are few and far in between and most flats are built for individual residences by the owners themselves.  The commercial popular branded builders have hardly any property presence in and around Jayanagar.  I think that speaks volumes on the mindset of the residents who would like to hold on to their spaces rather than fall for the big bucks being offered by established builders.  Happy to see that Jayanagar didn't go the Indiranagar way, in terms of commercial greed, at least. 

There was a time when this beautiful extension of Bangalore was bereft of people.  The lonely streets stretched long and were filled with dread.  It was scary to travel alone on these streets during the late evening/night times.  The traffic, those days consisted of mere bicycles and scooters; with a few cars scattered here and there.  As kids of 60s and 70s, we used to play cricket and other games like the lagory, soorchand, bugari, gillidandlu and so on, on the empty streets.  Games unheard of these days!  

The Shopping Complex in 4th Block was just the boys' playground where we had our initiation into tennis ball cricket.  It was the unofficial school ground for us High School students, where we spent the 'games period' with a variety of sports like the kabaddi, kho-kho and the like.  The multi-storied shopping complex was still a few years away.  There are so many tidbits of memories tucked away in a corner of my brain that it is hard to pick and choose a few.  I rack my brains for the prominent ones and here are a few.  The search light beams dancing in the night skies of pockets of Jayanagar area that emanated from the Circus tents of Subhash nagar grounds; the lingering taste of Orange ice candies of shellys Ice Cream corner; the gingery taste of masala tea of Bharat Cafe; eating groundnuts with my parents, seated on the stone structures (situated on the four corners of 4th block complex grounds); watching with trepidation when dead bodies were being carried for burial (in 4th block burial grounds behind the main bus stand) in bright green coloured coffins by a group of people wearing handkerchiefs as head-bands; shivering with cold and fear while walking along the empty 9th main road stretch. These are some odd memories that has remained with me to this day.  What an epic time and era that was! If we are to go back in time and recapture those forgotten childhood days, the only way would be to stop progress and development.  Alas, that can never be!  Just reliving these old memories puts a smile on my old haggard face! 

Reincarnation and the Indian belief systems

The concept of reincarnation has always intrigued and fascinated man.  It has brought many believers into its fold over hundreds of years of human existence to alter or reinforce their core belief systems. This belief system has been propounded and existed since a little more than a couple of thousand years. The belief of Reincarnation exists in different organised religions across the world mainly eastern religions (apart from the Hindu faith) such as Buddhism, Jainism (albeit in a different form). Hindu belief system or the Sanathana Dharma which encompasses a wide range of belief systems proposed this concept through the Upanishads. There is no mention of reincarnation as a concept in the Rig Veda, the oldest written document (to be found till date in human recorded history).  Rig Vedas are believed to have been created by a series of enlightened Sages, sometime between 3500 years ago and 5000 years ago. The Vedas mainly consist of offerings and communion with the gods (Agni, Indra, etc.), attained as a result of various sacrifices offered with the chanting of hymns. The Upanishads which were thought to have been composed between 800 BCE and 500 BCE, were probably the first to propound the theory of reincarnation. The Upanishads had started to question the traditional Vedic religious order and an attempt was made in these texts to shift the focus of  spiritual life from external rites and sacrifices to internal spiritual quests in the search for answers.

The believers are attracted to this concept  as it provides an explanation about the differences that exist among people such as those that are born very rich or those in dire poverty, or in various diseased or deformed human conditions that one is born into. It is not under one’s control how one is born into this world. Some have success without being religious, others are constant losers, despite their religious adherence. If one is born in a poor family or one is born a leper or with some serious deformity, reincarnation explains that these are the results of past actions in previous lives. The bad deeds of the previous birth are passed on to this birth, thereby explaining away the unfortunate circumstances that one has to endure in the present life. On the other hand, reincarnation concept is also another way of negating the monotheistic teaching of the final judgment by a holy God, for sinners to be condemned to suffer in eternal hell. The reincarnation belief system motivates a person to do good deeds in the present life so that the benefit can be reaped in the next life.

Similarly, if one has to attain good births in future lives, one has to commit or do good karma in their present lives. The concept of Karma, which literally means “action”, is the idea that all actions have consequences, good or bad. Karma determines the conditions of the next life, just like our life is conditioned by our previous karma. There is no judgement or forgiveness, simply an impersonal, natural and eternal law operating in the universe. Those who do good will be reborn in better conditions while those who are evil will be reborn in worse conditions. Perhaps as an animal, perhaps as a human, perhaps as a god, but always in a regular cycle of deaths and resurrections.

As a necessary aid in explaining the reincarnation mechanism, Vedanta explains the concept of a “subtle body” (sukshma-sharira) which is attached to atman or soul as long as its bondage lasts. This “subtle body” is the actual carrier of karmic debts. The facts recorded by the “subtle body” are a sum of hidden tendencies or impressions (samskara) imprinted by karma as seeds that will generate future behaviour and personal character. They will materialize unconsciously in the life of the individual, without giving one any hint at understanding his or her actual condition. There can be no form of transmitting conscious memory from one life to another, since it belongs to the world of illusion and dissolves at death. In the Samkhya and Yoga darshanas, the entity that reincarnates is “purusha”, an equivalent of atman or soul. Yoga Sutra (2,12) defines a similar mechanism of transmitting the effects of karma from one life to another, as was the case in Vedanta. The reservoir of karmas is called “karmashaya”. This deposit of karma merely serves as a mechanism for adjusting the effects of karma in one’s life.

Passing from one life to another life is like the shifting of a dream. In between births, the individual soul spends time in the astral regions, sometimes just wandering and frittering time away, and sometimes in learning and evolving so the next life will be better and wiser than the previous one. This time spent in this intermediate state can be anything from a matter of hours to centuries and even thousands of years. This is precisely determined by one’s karma.

Bhagavad Gita (2:18-21) says, “Bodies are said to die, but That which possesses the body is eternal. It cannot be limited, or destroyed. Some say this Atman is slain, and others call It the slayer: they know nothing. How can It slay or who shall slay It? Know this, Atman is unborn, undying, never ceasing, never beginning, deathless, birth-less, unchanging for ever. It is within all, and it is without all.” Further, “Just as the self, advances through childhood, youth and old age in its physical body, so it advances to another body after death. The wise person is not confused by this change called death (2,13). Just as the body casts off worn out clothes and puts on new ones, so the infinite, immortal self, casts off worn out bodies and enters into new ones (2,22).

There are many accounts of death or near death related experiences by people that have led many to believe strongly in the concept of reincarnation. Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (4:4:1,2) explains that “The person in the throes of death neither sees, nor smells, nor tastes. He does not speak he does not hear. He does not think; he does not know. For all the organs, detaching themselves from his physical body, unite with his subtle body. Then the point of his heart, where the nerves join, is lighted by the light of the Self, and by that light he departs either through the eye, or through the gate of the skull, or through some other aperture of the body. When he thus departs, life departs; and when life departs, all the functions of the vital principle depart. The Self remains conscious, and, conscious, the dying man goes to his abode. The deeds of this life, and the impressions they leave behind, follow him.”

Shvetashvatara Upanishad says that, “Reincarnation is the practical way in which one reaps the fruits of one's deeds. By means of thought, touch, sight and passions and by the abundance of food and drink there are birth and development of the (embodied) self. According to his deeds, the embodied self assumes successively various forms in various conditions.

The Puranas provide a clearer picture of the specifics according to each kind of “bad acts” or "sin" one commits. For example, Garuda Puranas (17,50-57), states that, “Those men who are intent upon wisdom go to the highest goal; the sinfully-inclined go miserably to the torments of Yama. Thus the makers of bad karma, having experienced the tortures of hell, are born with the residues of their sins, in these stated forms. Then, obtaining for thousands of lives the bodies of animals, they suffer from carrying burdens and other miseries. Having experienced as a bird the misery of cold, rain and heat, he afterwards reaches the human state, when the good and evil are balanced. Birth and death are the lot of all embodied beings; thus turns the wheel in the four kingdoms of beings. As the wheel of time turns, so mortals revolve by my magic. They revolve at one time of earth, at another in hell, held fast by the noose of karma. He who does not mike gifts becomes poverty--stricken and through poverty he commits sin; by the force of sin he goes to hell, and is again born in poverty and again becomes sinful. Karma which has been made, whether good or evil, must inevitably be suffered. Karma not suffered does not fade away even in tens of millions of ages.”

Similar specific punishments are stated by The Laws of Manu (12, 54-69). As the karmic debt one recorded in the past is considerably large, a single life is not enough to consume it. Therefore, in order to attain liberation, many lives become a necessity. The external intervention of a god or a human guru is useless since it would compromise the role of karma.

In order that one can be “rid of” or “escape” the cycle of births and deaths (i.e., reincarnation), one has to attain the highest form of self-realization that is possible in highly evolved beings. This is the true and ultimate realization of a soul or atman. Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (4:4:6) says that “But he in whom desire is stilled suffers no rebirth. After death, having attained to the highest, desiring only the Self, he goes to no other world. Realizing Brahman, he becomes Brahman.”

In the Bhagwad Gita, Krishna says, (Chapter 8, Verse 16) “from the highest planet in the material world down to the lowest, all are places of misery wherein repeated birth and death takes place. But one who attains to My abode, O son of Kunti, never takes birth again” and in (Chapter 2, Verse 13), “as the embodied soul continually passes, in this body, from boyhood to youth to old age, the soul similarly passes into another body at death. The self-realized soul is not deluded by such a change.”

The narrow escape of a 'cool' tech-savvy retiree

I have always prided myself to be a 'cool' tech-savvy person.  I was preening around tutoring every non computer literate person, at every available opportunity, helping on troubleshooting the computer application problems and even on the newer mobile phone technicalities.  I had become a sort of “go-to” person in my close family and friends circles for all technology related advice.  All this was well documented and things were running pretty smooth, until the day of the reckoning which arrived sooner than expected.  It all began one lazy afternoon, when I was in a deep slumber after having partaken a rather heavy lunch.  I was jolted awake by an insistent phone call from an unknown number.  As was my post lunch custom, a siesta had become a regular thing after my retirement.

The caller was a plain spoken gentle male voice speaking in Hindi from my Bank advising me of an apparent mistake in my insurance premium paid through my credit card.  The premium amount would be debited every month instead of one time payment, he said.  I was rudely awakened.  I expressed some doubt which he clarified hurriedly mumbling that this was an oversight that happens to most people.  He explained the technicality of rectifying the error by asking me to open the bank app and change some of the controls and settings.   I had become a putty in the hands of the caller with absolutely no idea of the things he was saying.  I listened to him intently while changing all the parameters on which he advised me.  He had sent me a WhatsApp message from the Bank containing a file.  He asked me to install the file and click send.  I tried doing just that.  The send message was not going through.  He asked me to change the settings in the phone to install ‘unknown’ files.  I did just that.  You would think that I was dumb enough to follow all that he said.  In my defence, I would say that his voice was mesmerizing and so helpful that I went along with his tone.  At this  exact moment, the alarm bells in my mind had started ringing.  It was the Archimedes' “Eureka” moment.   The sixth sense in me was working overtime to compensate for the rookie mistake I was about to commit. It had dawned on me at the 'nth' moment that I had not made payment of any Insurance premium lately using my bank credit card.   Then, what was it I had been doing all along, my mind was now wide awake from the deep slumber. 

I nimbly disconnected the phone and tried blocking the unknown caller.  The caller kept ringing several times and I kept rejecting his calls.   Now fully awake to the fraudulent transaction that I was about to commit, I realised the enormity of my blunder and swiftly started undoing all that I was asked to change on my phone.  For good measure, I blocked all internet transactions on my bank credit card.  I dashed off an email to my bank explaining the situation.

All my world around me had come tumbling down in that instant.  Luckily I had escaped from the skin of my teeth.  All was not lost still.  However, all  my confidence had evaporated and I felt I was the most lame and gullible person to have been a willing participant in my own doom. 

A fitting lesson learned.  Ever since the incident I have stopped receiving phone calls from unknown callers.  I am very cleverly diverting it to my spouse to help me out in dealing with the unknown callers.   I am no longer the 'cool' tech-savvy person that I had deemed myself to be all along.  So be it.