Dregs of Yore

A realisation struck me a few days ago - I need to expose myself more to environments where I assume an apprentice role, and be surrounded by individuals more knowledgeable or competent than myself in their pursuits. In other words, I need to be humbled more.  In my discussions with older family members—such as aunts, uncles, and my grandmother—I've noticed that they infuse every other utterance with references to God. Phrases like "Bhagwan ki kripa se sab theek hai" (All is well by God’s grace) or "Upar wale ki marzi rahi, toh ye bhi ho jayega" (It’ll happen if God wills it) are commonplace. Their greetings involve invoking God, as do their interjections. Even after a long, tiring day, they sigh or yawn, followed by the name of Rama.  While I do have daily praying rituals, I realise that I lack this constant remembrance of God in my moment-to-moment interactions, not only in my personal language but also in conversations with others. I am uncertain if I can f...

The Myth: The tale of Bhagiratha and Ganga, found in the epic Ramayana and the Puranas , is a significant story in Hindu mythology and is associated with the origin of the river Ganges (Ganga). King Sagar, a powerful ruler and ancestor of Lord Rama, performed the Ashwamedha Yajna (Horse Sacrifice) to establish his supremacy. During the ritual, the sacrificial horse was stolen by Indra, the king of the gods, who wanted to interrupt the ceremony. Sagar's sons, led by Anshuman, searched for the horse and found it near  the hermitage of Sage Kapila. Misunderstanding the sage to be the thief, they accused him, disrupting his meditation. In his wrath, Sage Kapila burnt them to ashes with his fiery gaze.  Anshuman's son, Dilipa, and later his grandson, Bhagiratha, were unable to perform the last rites (funeral rituals) for their ancestors. The ashes of Sagar's sons remained restless, so Bhagiratha took it upon himself to find a solution. Only the waters of the Ganga (the Ganges...

A disconcerting trend among young people, especially in liberal arts universities, is the casual embracing of communist ideas. On university campuses, it has become commonplace to spot T-shirts featuring Che Guevara's face, worn by individuals who either remain oblivious to the identity portrayed or exhibit a selective historical amnesia. Because nothing says "I stand against the system" quite like donning the image of a historical figure you probably can't identify. It's the perfect blend of ignorance and sartorial rebellion. Now, let's talk about those beloved communist regimes, the real trailblazers in human rights, if you will. Commonly known and discussed examples of communist regimes are the Soviet Union under Lenin and Stalin, Maoist China, present-day North Korea and Castro’s Cuba. Besides these, communism also reared its ugly head in Cambodia under Pol Pot, and in Laos, Vietnam and Ethiopia. Undoubtedly, the complexities of any oppressive regime canno...

As an outsider observing the Judeo-Christian faith tradition, it is my belief that its greatest triumph lies in its unparalleled ability to personify sin in a singular, malevolent figure — Satan. While most faiths have described in great detail on vice, it is only this tradition that has moved beyond it to encapsulate the abstract concept of sin into a concrete and compelling embodiment. Why Personify Sin? One might reasonably ask: Why is it important to personify sin, and why does a mere description not suffice? To this I would say that by giving a face to sin, it became relatable — a transgression that any one of us can commit and must guard against. This anthropomorphisation transforms sin from an obscure notion into a palpable entity, making it easier for people to grasp the potential for moral transgressions in their own lives. The personification of sin provides a recognisable face to the abstract idea, emphasising that anyone, regardless of their background or moral standing, ca...

The Myth: The Churning of the Ocean of Milk or the Samudra Manthana is a mesmerising episode in Hindu mythology that ensues from the pursuit of the nectar of immortality, known as amrit . In this cosmic event, gods and demons join forces to churn the ocean, using Mount Mandara as the churning rod and Vasuki, the serpent, as the rope. The tumultuous churning leads to the emergence of various celestial treasures, including the goddess Lakshmi, who embodies wealth, prosperity, and fortune. Parallels: This myth bears a striking resemblance to the birth of Aphrodite in Greek mythology. In both narratives, the act of an upheaval gives rise to a divine and radiant feminine figure. According to one of the most famous accounts, Aphrodite emerged from the sea foam near the island of Cyprus. The story unfolds with the castration of Uranus, the sky god, by his son Cronus. In the aftermath, Uranus's genitals were thrown into the sea, causing the sea to foam and bubble. Out of this foam, Aphrod...

I’ve been mulling over the topic of ‘fat-shaming’ for quite some time now, and have finally dared to attempt articulating what I think on this matter. Steering clear of an exhaustive exploration of all possible scenarios, I'm zoning in on a specific instance. Let's set the stage with a bit of cultural background, as such topics can hardly be discussed if divorced from context. Growing up in an Indian family, like most people I know, I've had regular, no-holds-barred interactions with parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Until I moved out of my parents' house, these encounters happened once or twice a week, if not more. This close-knit environment meant that family members would offer their opinions more candidly, and at times, even bluntly, than relatives might in Western societies. Weight-related commentary from aunts or cousins, whether acknowledging gains or losses, was customary, especially during reunions after prolonged absences. A friend underwent a...

Picture this: a group of young women gathered for brunch, sipping on their lattes while discussing the latest workplace gossip and career trends. Amidst the conversation about promotions and job switches, one woman boldly declares, "I'm basically a child myself – how could I possibly take care of another human being?" The other women erupt in laughter, and in that moment, a manifesto of maternal nonchalance is born.  Regrettably, I've found myself at too many such tables, awkwardly shifting my feet whenever this topic surfaces. The act of downplaying maternal instincts has become a subtle power move, a way for these women to assert their dedication to their careers without raising eyebrows. After all, the prevailing notion seems to be that if you're bad at parenting or express a disinterest in having children, you must be excelling in the boardroom. It's the age-old assumption that the inability to change a diaper equates to the ability to climb the profession...

A friend of mine, who recently completed his masters at one of India's most prestigious universities, shared an interesting incident from his college experience. In one of his classes, a student arrived a bit late, and the professor, a learned and dignified woman in her 50s, reprimanded her (not too harshly) before allowing her to take her seat. After the class ended, the same student stood up defiantly, pointed at the lecturer, and exclaimed loudly, “You shouldn't have criticised me. I might have had a valid reason for being late, but you assumed I was careless. I have rights, you know!” One or two of the other students snickered, while the rest looked horrified. The professor sighed in exasperation, but did not say anything in response. One by one the students left the classroom. I must admit, I found the incident rather amusing. It's not to say I'm being strait-laced, but I've never come across such behaviour from a student before. This kind of scenario would hav...

Co-authored by  Ankit and Sadhika on January 01, 2024 What is one thing you would find on the currency, a passport, and official buildings in India?  It is the Ashoka Emblem, featuring four lions standing back to back, an iconic symbol that holds significant historical and cultural importance in India. Commissioned by Emperor Ashoka in the 3rd century BCE, this emblem has a rich legacy that transcends time. The legacy of the Ashoka Emblem endured through the ages, surviving the rise and fall of empires and the passage of centuries. It gained renewed recognition and significance when it was adopted as the national emblem of India on January 26, 1950, coinciding with the country's adoption of the Constitution and declaration as a republic. The emblem represents the principles of dharma (righteousness) and unity. The four lions symbolise power, courage, confidence, and pride, standing together in harmony despite their individual strength. The positioning of the lions conveys ...