Vimoh's Blog

Exceptions aside, our experiences can be generally classified into two broad categories – the painful and the pleasurable. All we feel are pain and pleasure, through different means and at varying intensities. Pain is something we tend to avoid, and pleasure is something we try to get more of. We generally consider the two as being opposites of each other.

Recently, over a plate of spicy chaat, I was struck by an anomaly in this classification. Is the taste of chilly a pain or a pleasure. It hurts the tongue for sure, but not too much. And everyone seems to like it that way. So it is a pain that gives us pleasure. We don’t avoid it. We actually stuff our roadside snacks with chilly and then proceed to stuff our mouths with those snacks until we can take it no more and have to get a drink of something cold.

Now consider the feeling of being tickled. It is pure torture. Fingers poke your sides or your armpits and you jump. The experience, when continuous, causes you to double up with laughter. But it is most definitely not pleasurable. I remember being in a state of continuous fright as a kid when around my elder cousins, who were prone to poke me in my side without warning. I went to great lengths to safeguard my ticklish parts.

Why is this so?

I don’t know. But I have a theory (as usual). I think pain and pleasure are essentially the same thing. If a little pain is pleasurable and a lot of pleasure is painful, then it probably stands to reason that we have in-built barriers against states of zero pain and absolute pleasure. Perhaps pain and pleasure are two ends of the same spectrum.

When looking for answers, we tend to settle for definitive ones. It has always got to be either this or that, either here or there, either right or wrong. But the absolute truth is a perfect soup, isn’t it?

The problem with absolute truths is that the moment an exception shows up, they cease to be absolute. And exceptions always show up. And because that is an absolute truth, there must be an exception to that too. And an exception to the statement that exceptions always show up can only be that somewhere out there, there is an absolute truth that has no exceptions. And then again, there would be an exception to that too.

See what I mean?

That God exists is an absolute truth. That there is no God is an absolute truth too. The answer, in my opinion, is somewhere in the middle. God is complicated, like the world is.

Here’s something interesting. I don’t know what it’s supposed to mean though. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps a lot.

Consider this sentence: "Smoking is bad." The exact opposite of it, expressed by reversing everything except the subject (because the subject is what we are passing judgment on), actually means the same: "Smoking isn’t good."

Try it with any absolute statement and you will get the same result.

"There is no God," becomes, "There isn’t yes God," (ungrammatical, but you get the idea). “I will go home,” becomes, “I won’t not-go home.”

I keep wondering why it is so difficult to express delicate and nuanced ideas in simple language. No matter how I go about expressing the details of something largely intangible, I end up trapped in block-headed sentences. It’s always ‘either this or that’ or ‘either here or there’. Language simply fails at expressing middle ground logic and ideas.

Maybe language is flawed. Maybe it can’t be used for expressing anything less than absolutes. Maybe we can’t talk in nuanced ways. Or maybe this post is pointless and I am a nut.

I am merely ranting in frustration after something of a failure at expressing myself. If you don’t get it, feel free to ignore it.

Let us say you wanted to buy a big house. Off the top of your head, what are the things you need to buy a big house?

You need money, and you need a good big house, and the house must be on sale for you to be able to buy it. You need to be able to prove (with proper paperwork) that you are worthy of the house. You need to convince your spouse that the house is a solid investment and you need to get your kids to agree to move to the new place.

Aren’t we forgetting something? Here’s a hint; read the first sentence again.

Want! You need to want to buy the big house. All the money in the world would not get you the house if you don’t want to buy it. Funny how often we take this little bit for granted. Maybe because it is an inside thing.

And what’s more, even if all you have is want, the other things may still follow. Want is where it all begins.

“The killing of innocents is against Islam. They are bringing shame to 25 crore Muslims of India. These men are not Muslims. Why should we give them place anywhere? There is no place for them in our hearts and in our cemeteries,” said Hamid Abdul Razzak, president, Dawat-e-islami. (Source: Muslim organisations deny burial to slain terrorists)

There was a proposal that Israel police were considering in 2004 with regard to combating terrorists claiming to follow Islam. I don’t know if it was actually put into action though. It involved pigs.

Residents of Gush Katif have tried the formula in the past, inserting pig fat in the body of terrorists that have attacked their homes. Residents told Arutz-7 that a “right-wing kibbutz-nik” had supplied them with the swine tissues. Arab MKs responded to a report of such actions with outrage. Abdel Malek Dahamshe said, “The ethical inferiority and lowliness that the settlers have reached is intolerable. This is an act of first-degree desecration of God’s name.”

MK Tzvi Hendel responded, “If these primitive murderers stuff their brains with nonsense about Paradise and who-knows-how-many virgins waiting only for them, then they certainly believe in the other nonsense that being buried with pigskin blocks their way to Paradise.” (Source: Swine: Secret Weapon Against Islamic Terror?)

Islam considers the pig an unclean animal. Physical contact with the animal is believed to block a Muslim’s access to heaven.

The brainwashed maniacs who kill innocents aren’t afraid of death. They believe dying in the process guarantees their access to heaven. You have to admit, if you put yourself in their shoes, it is one hell of an incentive. Read the rest of this entry »

Prophecies are a staple of many stories. A set life path, leading to an inevitable conclusion – usually the death of a much despised villain at the hands of the chosen hero, or the reaching of a cherished goal.

Harry Potter was born to kill Voldemort. Lord Rama took a human form to end the evils of Ravana. Frodo was chosen to destroy the ring, and with it, the lord of Mordor.

So why are these people heroes? What made them heroes? What is their cause of being?

What brought Rama into being was the climactic battle in which he chopped off all ten heads of Ravana. What makes Harry a hero is the killing of Voldemort. What caused Frodo to be a hero is the act of flinging the ring into the fiery waters of Mount Doom.

The hero’s existence is justified by the act for which he was born. The reason for Rama’s birth is Ravana’s death. Harry lives so Voldemort may die. Frodo exists to end the power of Sauron.

Think about this for a while.

The cause of a hero’s coming into being lies far out in his future. The cause (villain’s death) comes after the effect (hero’s birth).

Why is this important? Remember the tons of prophecies Harry and his friends trashed when playing with the Death Eaters? Maybe they were about us!

Maybe, like Rama, you and I were born to fulfill a cause still some distance away. Maybe you, sitting in front of your computer right now, are unknowingly doing your part towards seeking your very own holy grail – one hidden away exclusively for you. How about that?

Good luck with the demon slaying!

I think I just figured out how some people manage to retain memories of their past lives. It is a reasonable enough explanation anyway. Listen.

In the universe, there is energy. It is everywhere and in everything. It is like Obi-Wan Kenobi’s definition of the Force, “…an energy field created by all living things, that surrounds and penetrates living beings and binds the galaxy together.”

There is also mass. Loosely defined, mass is stuff and energy is what makes stuff work. Everything is made of stuff and everything is being run by energy.

If you know basic level physics, you would know that energy can’t be created or destroyed, it can only be converted from one form to another. It is called the law of conservation of energy. The same energy runs our bodies, nuclear reactions, the stars, and all manner of living and non living objects.

If you put absolutely anything under the microscope, you will see molecules. Regardless of which element something is made of, there are, microscopically speaking, vast empty spaces between molecules. This seemingly empty space contains energy.

You will see the same vast spaces and the same vibrating molecules in pretty much everything. Your hand, your bed, your dog. The list, as cliche goes, is endless. Energy holds matter together and keeps it from falling apart.

Now, we know that memories are extragenetic (independent of genes). If you are cloned, your duplicate will not have any memories of your life. (Watch the action-packed movie The 6th Day. Schwarzeneggar alert!)

Here’s my point. Cloning replicates all matter in our bodies. But what of the energy? And what of that which the matter can not hold – memories?

What if, upon destruction of the body, the energy drifts away (soul?) taking with it memories, and just becomes a part of the sea of energy that is all around us. In due time when a new body made of matter needs mobilising, that bubble of energy enters it and brings the memories with it.

Some time ago, I wrote a post called Getting Ideas. In it I suggested that ideas are just things that float all around us and come to us when we seek them. I am saying that same thing about consciousness now.

Think of it as a like-attracts-like situation. A set of memories and feelings seeking matter will be drawn towards a body. Similarly, a body in need of a feeling will draw such towards itself.

Paranormal researchers say that many ghost sightings are a result of energy signatures left at certain places. So in a way, the universe remembers. (Read an oldish sci-fi book by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle called The Land of the Mists)

More proof that we are all connected. We are parts of each other and belong to each other, quite literally. Maybe the bright idea you just had was somebody’s dying wish. How does that make you feel?