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|Silence With The Storm Chap 1 (standard:non fiction, 5861 words) [1/2] show all parts|
|Author: Rattan Mann||Updated: Oct 05 2003||Views/Reads: 2551/1719||Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
SILENCE WITH THE STORM RATTAN MANN DEDICATION To Ravindra, who is still too young and innocent to understand fully the hypocrisy of those wise teachers and great lovers of peace, non-violence, and yoga who murder the soul to preserve a worthless body, and to mamma and Bimla who understand them too well, more than is necessary. CHAPTER 1 Like every man I was born of woman, and like every child I cried the moment I came into the world. Indian philosophers say that this is man's first outcry of sorrow and protest against the world's cruelities and injustices, but whatever the philosophical explanation of the birth-trauma, my cries must have been a great relief to my mother. " It is a boy " my grand-mother is supposed to have said, and my mother was overjoyed because those were times and places where boys were more important than girls, men more important than women, positions more important than men, and connections more important than positions, or at least more useful - those were times of slavery, those were places of poverty. Thousands of years before I existed, the course of my life was already predetermined, not by the predictable motions of the heavenly bodies, the stars and the planets, but by the unpredictable caprices of the human mind. The Alphas of the Universe, the Brahmins of India, have taken upon their shoulders the irresponsible responsibility of determining, from birth to death, the fate of every individual upon this earth. From zero to twenty-five years, I was to remain chaste, avoid women, wine, and meat, and devote my life - or waste my time, depending on the point of view taken - to learning by rote, without understanding, it goes without saying, the mantras and the slokas of the Vedas and the Upanishads, until even the universal truths contained in those holy scriptures was crushed beneath the heavy schedule of the ever-busy lips. At twenty-five a woman was suddenly to be produced before me by the magic of my parents, and till fifty I was to dedicate my energies, both physical and psychological, though in reality mostly sexual, to dragging into this sorrowful world a few more of my kith and kin, the Betas of the Universe, the Kshatriyas, the warriors, the professional killers of their fellow-men. From fifty to seventy-five years I was to remain a figure-head of my family, at the end of which term I must renounce, voluntarily of course, the earthly pleasures and vices and call myself a hermit and saint, because to call myself a homeless beggar, thrown out by thoughtless sons and greedy and quarrel-some daughters-in-laws, no longer willing to burden themselves with the care of an old and worthless man, would be too crude and unaesthetic a description of reality. In the jungle, I the hermit was allowed but one occupation, for the lack of any other choice of course, though would-be saints, fixed to the coming world, are not duty-bound to agree, and that was prayer and penance to pave my path to Nirvana, which would finally be achieved at the ripe old age of hundred, and last forever and ever, unless some megalomaniac God, scared of human will, chose to throw me back, with heavenly justification of course, to repeat the sorrowful cycle of human existence once more. Something else was also predetermined for me: I must hate, on purely logical a priori grounds, without ever asking why, the Deltas of Mankind, the Sudras of India. Loathe them, detest them, despise them, shun them, scorn them, trample them, turn my back when I saw them, and close my ears when I heard them coming. I was also forbidden to ask one question: How a man feels when he lives in the gutter and dies in the gutter, sleeps in the gutter and wakes up in the gutter, weeps in the gutter and laughs in the gutter. This was not a human problem, but only a problem of the Deltas, who with God's help, could take care of it themselves, and a privilaged Beta like me was highly discouraged to ponder over such useless issues. So was I taught, so did I beleive. Under oath, and upon my honour I declare that no electric shocks were given to me, nor was I tortured into this belief. I beleived it on my own free will, and quite proudly Click here to read the rest of this story (482 more lines)
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