Musings, Potshots

Sex, Bhagavad Gita, Oppenheimer…

[circa 16:15, 25th July] In a few hours I hope to be sitting at a movie theatre watching Christopher Nolan’s film ‘Oppenheimer’.

I’m writing this about a ‘sex scene’ in the film – and larger issues – even before watching the film. It’s a risky endeavour that I willingly undertake in the interests of underlining the invincibility of the Bhagavad Gita – a book that I enjoy reading over and over again, as did Robert Oppenheimer, as did and still do a host of  many other utterly rational, utterly atheistic men and women of science, Indian and non-Indian, Hindu and non-Hindu, since the Gita was composed.

I write this because a big hullabaloo has broken out in main-scream, social and anti-social media that this ‘sex scene’ disrespects ‘Hindus’ and ‘Hinduism’.

I write this because (1) I believe the hullabaloo is absurd and pointless, born of ignorance and compounded by narrow-mindedness; and (2) the hullabaloo is being amplified to kiloton levels by our Minister of State for Information & Broadcasting Anurag Thakur, who is reportedly accusing Nolan et al of ‘religious insensitivity’ and insulting the ‘Holy Book of Hindus’ because a scene in the film depicts a woman quoting the Gita while enjoying sex with Oppenheimer. (Oh, and half-a-cheer to you, Minister, for being a spoiler among other things).

Most alarmingly, Minister Thakur is threatening the Film & Censor Board of strict action unless they edit out the ‘controversial ‘ sex scene that has ‘hurt’ those ‘Hindus’ that he claims to represent.

I write this because the Minister has, by his comments and stance, deeply offended MY individual sentiments as a ‘Hindu’ who loves this universal philosophy that is ‘Hinduism’ and is captured so well in the Bhagavad Gita.

I do believe the Minister has got his argument wrong, utterly wrong. Out of ignorance—which is not a crime but a tragedy—but quite possibly, compounded by a sub-critical mass of narrow-mindedness.

I would urge the Minister to reflect on the truth that among all the great philosophies of the world, there is no other philosophy that celebrates the joys of sex more than this vast, insanely yet joyously complex collection of thoughts, writings, poetry, art, sculpture, dance and what-have-you that shelter under this nebulous, ever-changing (and therefore ALIVE) Umbrella Philosophy that we loosely call ‘Hinduism’… and which he so bravely sets out to defend.

What is sex, at its supreme level of enjoyment, but a meeting, a merging, an utter and true union, not merely of physical bodies but of minds and of  hearts powered by desires melting into one another and becoming infinitely greater than the parts, when pleasure becomes ecstasy, a union of seemingly separate Selves that, now united, blend as ‘One’, and in that indescribable timeless eternal moment of infinite bonded bliss, awaken, together, to the realization that this ‘One’ that they have become is the same, was never separated, from the One  whence springs all ‘creation’, all ‘reality’, all ‘life’, all ‘thought’, all ‘Self’…that in truth Time itself is an illusion, as is this cycle of Birth and Death?

Sex is natural. Sex brings great pleasure at its most physical ‘base’ level; sex between partners who adore, respect, love one another, can be an experience that is akin – nay, IS – as supremely ecstatic as the union of the Self with the Cosmic Self. 

There are many paths to experience this oneness. Sex CAN be one, as the great explorers of Tantra know. As lovers know.

What, then, is there to be ashamed of in sex, Mr Minister? What wrong, what ‘evil’, can there be in reflecting upon the One and Its attributes – so brilliantly described in the Vishwarupa of the Gita – while deep in sex?  Can you, should you, even try and hide sexual desire, sexual enjoyment, ecstasy, from ‘God’?

I ask this of the Minister without the slightest intent of disrespect or frivolity: Is it any surprise, is it any wonder that lovers, in their moments of sexual bliss, commonly cry out “Oh my God” and other terms of endearment involving deity – in every human language known, or in words unknown yet too well understood?  Surely the Minister and the flock he claims to represent must know this, and therefore should not, must not, be shocked or offended by this ?

All this and much more, about sex, ‘Hinduism’ understands. All this, the great sages have taught us and counselled us.

Hindusism does not associate sex with shame, guilt, furtiveness, ‘sin’, the way many other philosophies – that we call ‘religions’ – do.

That is why I love Hinduism—as do so many hundreds of millions, whether they are labelled ‘Hindu’ or anything else.

As one exactly twenty years older than Minister Thakur, I would urge him with all respect and affection to learn more about the meaning and the role of sex in Life as taught and portrayed in Hindu philosophy—perhaps with guidance from great teachers, perhaps in satsang. He could read about Krishna’s life and the layers of meaning that wait to be uncovered by the explorer in Krishna’s sexual frolicking with the Gopikas— Kamala Subramanian’s translation of the Srimad Bhagavatam is an absolutely brilliant introduction. He could explore the passionate writings of Kalidasa, Vatsyayana, a hundred others, in so many languages…he could read Pawan Varma’s superb book ‘The Great Hindu Civilization—achievement, neglect, bias, and the way forward’ to clarify questions and doubts he might have on Hinduism in a larger framework. [I will be happy to loan the Minister my copies of these – and other – books in case the Minister has difficulty in procuring them.]

Surely the Minister will understand, then, that neither ‘Hinduism’ nor the Bhagavad Gita needs ‘protection’ nor any ‘Defenders of the Faith’! Because the One, according to Hinduism, IS everywhere, the One is in the neutron and proton and electron, in all matter and energy, in the orgasm and in the organism, in the ever-changing lattices of electron exchanges that we call ‘thought’ and ‘idea’ and ‘memory’, the One is beyond Life and Death and Thought itself. To quote the Gita:

nainam chhindanti shastraani nainam dahati paavakah
na chainam kledayantyaapo na shoshayati maarutah

Weapons cannot cut It, nor can fire burn It; water cannot wet It, nor can wind dry It.

[I thank http://www.esamskriti.com for this nice, blithely ‘borrowed’ verse]

Last, I would urge the Minister not to allow ignorant, narrow-minded followers wearing ‘Hinduism’ T-shirts to coerce him into taking actions that might, in today’s social-media-driven society, reduce this wonderful, all-embracing, eternal philosophy that we call Hinduism into just another blind, soulless, ritualistic ‘religion’. To diminish this wonderful, all-embracing way of living and reflecting so that it becomes a travesty, to be obeyed without question by terrorized, brain-numbed, trembling, ‘God-fearing’ followers; a travesty presided over by heartless, cruel, greedy, moralistic, paternalistic and patronizing Interpreters, Lawmakers and Priests who rule by Fear, who see only sin in joy, shame in nature, crime in innocence.

And a last thought: I urge the Chairperson of CBFC Prasoon Joshi – a man of deep wisdom – and his colleagues to stand firm against any attempts by anybody  to censor this film – that I now rush off to see.

[26th July, 10:41. And now, 18 hours later, O dear Reader, having seen and delighted in this powerful film including the much-maligned ‘sex scene’, I urge Minister Thakur and his indignant followers to go and see the film. And, with my solemn declaration that I stand by every word I have written above, I post this herewith.]

Jai Hind.

Musings, Remembering

Cerebral cords and chords

[or, when Nothing threatens to become Something]

How time flies.

How time stands still.

Afternoon now. The 9th of July 2023. The mind in vacuous vacuum state, that so typically follows days of intense work.

I just did what I usually do…browse through a folder titled ‘Random Space’ in which I place all manner of scrawls on a continuing basis. This browsing activity acts on me like grazing on grass acts on cattle: it relaxes the fevered brain, especially when I delete utter rubbish that I come across (as happens quite frequently). 

Lest you don’t believe me, here’s something I found, written in February…in strangely similar mood. Strangely enough, it too dwells on grass grazed upon long ago…well, a refined form of grass anyway:  

[Verbatim…]

Feb 15th 2023:

Afternoon now.  After desultory work, editing news clippings after two days’ intense design and review of newsletter. What better time than to relapse into reminisce, to sink effortlessly through the decades to the dreamscape that was 1973–77…

Hawkwind plays, now, selected for me by that monstrous yet lovable Spotify algorithm. An album called, simply, Hawkwind. And now on the screen the calibri-11 and arial-9 exactly 17-point spaced mishmash of text melts and rearranges itself at dizzying speed, briefly I see shadowed faces in it, of friends of eons ago, Shankar and Raju, Kalyan and Raghu, Hocky and Sojan and Buddha and Rohan and Bhaiyya and Sen and Ronnie and Geeta and Meera and Shanks and so many others, appearing and dissolving in the cerebral grey-brown smoke that was so characteristic of Asharam’s hash (it came with golden seals on it, Farsi script too, all the way from Afghanistan, like chocolate bars but so much headier…12 rupees a tola.

A time when my monthly allowance—meant among other things for mess fees of 200-something rupees and for survival on the rest – was 300 rupees; at a time when dad’s salary back in Shillong was – what? About Rs 900 take-home?

Ah yes, I went through that 300 as smoothly as an otter through water, as Asharam’s hash went down the throat and lungs into the blood and brain. At least twice I ‘forgot’ the mess fees and asked dad for more; what were my excuses, I remember not.

And now, the lyrics from ‘Mirror of illusion’ caress the mind, draw me down, down the Great Chasm of Contemplation and hurl me over the raging, eternal,  Cataracts of Cerebral Chaos…

In the cold gray mask of morning I cry out
But no one feels the sound that I shout

And you don’t hear me through the tears you’ve shed
In the dreamworld that you’ve found
Will one day drag you down
The mirror of illusion reflects the smile

The world from your back door seems so wide
The house, so tiny it is from inside
A box that you’re still living in
I cannot see for why
You think you’ve found Perception’s doors
They open to a lie

Briefly, I emerge from the maelstrom at the shout of a remembered quote, echoing off the canyon walls:

One of the most important rules to follow on the Path to Contentment is to erase, on ongoing basis, any and all memories that evoke strong emotions:  good or bad. Especially the bad, which tend to burrow deeper and create far many more encrypted-password copies of themselves in different regions of the cerebellum.

[Alambusa IV: “Recombinant AI and other neuroquantal speculations”: Rakshasa Press, 2144 CE]

I try and follow this principle by efforts to keep up with what is being researched – and sometimes, discovered – in science. Usually, within minutes of reading something I achieve that utterly blissful amoeba-like state of complete blankness that restores equanimity with the blessed knowledge that with each passing second I understand even less than I did before, and that the end is in sight…but I’m never quite there (or I wouldn’t be writing this, would I?)

Consider this gem of an insight into the nature of ‘quantum entanglement’, from a most wonderful article dated 22 February 2023 in the Quanta Magazine  titled ‘Physicists Use Quantum Mechanics to Pull Energy out of Nothing’ [read it here]:

The trouble arises from the bizarre nature of the quantum vacuum, which is a peculiar type of nothing that comes dangerously close to resembling a something. The uncertainty principle forbids any quantum system from settling down into a perfectly quiet state of exactly zero energy. As a result, even the vacuum must always crackle with fluctuations in the quantum fields that fill it. These never-ending fluctuations imbue every field with some minimum amount of energy, known as the zero-point energy. Physicists say that a system with this minimal energy is in the ground state. A system in its ground state is a bit like a car parked on the streets of Denver. Even though it’s well above sea level, it can’t go any lower…”

I just love this idea of a ‘peculiar type of nothing that comes dangerously close to resembling a something.’

It reminds me of the description of the One in every religious book I’ve read.

It also reminds me of exactly how I felt when I first heard Rahul Gandhi explain, at length, his vision for India’s socio-economic development.

[Mercifully, this 5-month-old reminisce on nothing, tantamount to nothing, ended here…indeed, I’d forgotten all about it till today. ]

How time flies.

How time stands still.

Quick! Hit the delete button!