Shorts
Long ago in Nepal, people elected their leader by a marathon. Inspired by this, I believe we can have a similar system. Rather than a race, we should let the best comedian win.
In Defense of Her Majesty
It is ridiculous for me to reconsider monarchy after four decades, as the first time I marched in the streets of Kathmandu against monarchy, I was just a teenager. But then, I had not watched The Truman Show; it was not even made. Hollywood did exist, but I had not read Baudrillard. I did attend some carnivals but nobody even mentioned Bakhtin. My support is not for power but for grandiose, for extravagance and for the simulacra. With the royals around, we all can appreciate the Lorde within each of us.
And her majesty should never return any of the stolen jewels +++(of India)+++. After all, who does not like the combination of the kings and the pirates.
stories
They had only stories back then when experiences were communicated directly. the size of the beast or the name of the beast did not matter much. grandpa could add some heads to the beast to make it more appealing. Stories had a transformational purpose. They represented what was directly experienced. Actually represented is a bad faith. They presented again, they evoked, the lived experiences shared by the community.
And then they discovered history. It had to be facts. and they thought facts were composed of names and times. They thought facts were expunged of narratives of those who lived it. They were the kings because they never experienced life. Just like the societies simulated extravagance and debauchery, kings simulated life from those who were very much alive. And they created facts.
And the time came when the original stories had to die. and the new story-tellers were the myth-makers. As the lived stories were already dead, myth makers fabricated the lies. Myths were reinvented again and again and myths controlled all three realms. The kings were the myth makers. Teachers were the myth makers. Businesses were making new myths and myths were keeping the businesses alive.
And there were some historians who were hanged by the kings for telling the facts.
Trump, the Philosopher
I have always focused on Trump the madman and Trump the narcissist and Trump the savior of the Swastika. I must say I have been blind, as my Trump loving friends say. Here came the realization after all this impeach fever.
He has normalized global collaboration in our elections. Why call it “foreign interference”? It makes the global effort look petty. It is not just Russia or Ukraine, even Modi from India joined Trump’s election campaign. Had China participated in it, we would hear very little of the trade-wars. And these are all “nationalists” who have normalized this new face of globalism. Once Ganeshman said, “the people of Kathmandu are like goats and sheep.” He died before experiencing America.
Clownism
Being insane is not a strategy. Being mad is not a policy. Clownism is not a philosophy.
The Dao of Propaganda
Any propaganda reveals inner human nature. There are idiots who believe it and propagate it for free. There are the smart ones who create it and sell it and benefit from it. And there are the wise ones who stay outside of it.
Most of the ’educated’ are the first type. Either they believe Narrative one and promote it for free or they confront Narrative one by following Narrative two. They prostitute their vāc, speech, and for free. They are goaded by the smart ones like circus elephants.
There is no difference in the silence of the Buddha and that of an old and forgotten man. It is in silence that wisdom is born.
Utopia
I sometimes dream that the rulers and the ruled ones, the government and the opposition, come together and confront the crisis. Even more, I dream of a world where two nations are not fighting for resources or to prove their supremacy. Our epics are filled with the narratives of the hero’s return after the war, whether it is from the city of Troy or from Kurukshetra. There is no glory in it: a war is a mechanism of unmasking the ugly. In this epic tragedy, in this suffering of the collective of humanity,
I sometimes dream that we can be brothers and sisters again and not fight the war that is not for us, neither is that for our children. It feels as if we are already in a post-human society where the humans are fighting to defend the humanity of the machines. In the dream I have, humans rise above and experience their full potential and experience Śiva within.
Independence
Independence means different things in different countries. In here, it means independence from China on toilet papers.
Fiction making
Be liberal, be conservative. Be whatever you want to be. If you want me to believe in your stories, make it believable. Do not create a fiction. Moreover, do not believe too much of your own fiction. Or you look silly. A dog has an excuse for licking himself. You don’t.
Selective amnesia
modern world lives in selective amnesia. we only like to read or remember what we want to believe in. facts are what we call are the facts. because social reality is complex, we can always find the narratives that we choose to believe in. we live in selective amnesia.
Ecological concerns
Ecological concerns should not be framed along the party lines. This should remain a collective concern for our very being. And when it comes to the way we live our lives, it should also be about us living a life as human. However, the more the parties divide along the fault lines of decency and inhumanity, the more it gets easier to pick a side. After all, we all inherit the ape genes.
India and Nepal
In 1985, when my logic (Nyaya) teacher, then Rector, Dr. Vidyanath Upadhyaya and Dr. Bernhard Kolver discussed the prospects for my studies in Germany, both my parents and Vedanta teachers said I should rather go to Varanasi. In the early days of my generation, only the elite class viewed the West as a superior option. As far as the lower and middle classes were concerned, the image of the educational and medical institutions in India was not inferior to their Western counterparts. Deep cultural connections are breaking and new realities are driving new generations apart.
Bhuatanese students prefer Dhaka, Chittaging and then Australia. It has reduced unto skeleton of its former self aka new wave of extreme haughtiness.
I was discussing this issue the other day with one of my friends, ex-Nepalese ambassador to Bangladesh, and he brought to my attention that there is a strong demand among Nepalese students to go to Dhaka for higher education. This adds to your observation regarding Bhutanese students.
Nepal News 201910
This morning I woke up feeling guilty that I have not followed any news from my birthplace. I was about to miss the state visit of Xi the Chinese emperor, Mahara the rapist senate speaker, Alam the terrorist and the leader of the Congress party, and the silent women leaders from all parties when it comes to speaking against people in power. I am sure Nepal will continue making news but I will still have to wait for the news that I wanted to hear, the news that would heal my soul.
Concerned
Today has been the day to reflect on our concerns and the paradoxes that we live by. I am concerned about some of the national and international issues that help me bracket - even if for a moment - what I could act on and actually make a difference. I am concerned about the people and the countries or the provinces that I have never met and have never been to, while also ignoring the place and the people that need my care.
Our concerns are not personal but ideological; because I believe such and so, I am concerned. It would be nice if the clause, “because I believe in such and so” would come to the fore of the mind the moment I am concerned. My concerns are hollow as my concerns are fundamentally finalized by the time I express my feelings. As if someone there has to act on my concerns or there will be snow-storm or tsunami or something. I am not ready to stand up for my concerns. I have seen so many other people sharing the same concerns, all walking on straws. We are just concerned beings.
Today’s man is very much a concerned man. If he is concerned about justice in a faraway lands, he is also submitting to some lunatics in his fold.
compassion and nothing
facebook network does reveal many interesting and sometimes disturbing trends, heart-warming posts and heart-numbing expressions. Our societal self does live in the paradox. one thing in particular drew my attention while scanning through the posts.
Mostly dog-posts. How an abandoned dog needs to be adopted, and how a blind dog deserves love. Strangely, the same page welcomes ICE detention centers and separation of families and compares immigrants beneath anything. the idea of us versus them is so powerful that the same person would adopt a blind dog but would abandon a human child to die. It is possible there is no human nature, no core, nothing.
Attention
We have created a society where everyone seeks attention. And we pay attention to those who go nuts. We are the demon makers.
Reincarnation
If you have any doubts on reincarnation, you have to closely observe Indian elections. Not only that most of the issues that are fought relate to the past, even the leaders that are most discussed in the political campaign are all dead. Even those who are walking dress like the dead ones and speak like the dead ones. They are merely the simulacra of those who lived before, the shadows of those who could not die even after being dead.
Dharma Myopia versus Applied Dharma
A friend recently asked me, is not even applying dharma in our everyday context a form of dharma-myopia, a short vision for our immediate needs. I have to respectfully disagree. Ṛta and Satya are two legs of dharma where the first relates to its dynamic aspect with the second relating to its constant nature. When Manu counts forgiving, kindness, truth and peacefulness, he is referring to the constant nature. Kindness does not change over time and place.
What to wear or what to eat or when to meditate are all determined by Ṛta, the dynamic nature of dharma. This is where dharma myopia comes into play. When we start bending the constant laws of dharma for our immediate gain, when we distort the Śruti for justifying our debauchery and butchery, this is dharma myopia. We do not make dharma; we do not shape dharma. We can only shape ourselves according to dharma because dharma is the constant law. Again, what are the constant laws? not killing is the constant law. Truthfulness is the constant law. Not stealing from the rightful owners is the constant law. Not letting our senses control us is the constant law. Not hoarding is the constant law.
A nation that is led by a violent man who lies and steals and is enslaved by his sensory impulses and hoards for his personal gain is similar to a boat with one hundred holes.
dharma myopia
this is supposed to be a contradiction. the dharma-gaze is supposed to teach us beyond time, to bracket the ego that is temporal and sequential and adopt a higher gaze that is fixed in terms of permanence and eternity. dharma myopia is a project to redefine dharma that accommodates our immediate needs and addresses our today’s concerns, ignoring the higher being in us, ignoring the permanence that runs through our souls.
Actual solution
It is detrimental to assume that the political parties that ground their identity on particular social or cultural issue would actually want to solve those problems. Because this very is the lifeblood of their being. It is naive to assume that the opposition party would solve those problems and suspend the lifeblood of the opposite party, as this demands dismantling the playing field and not the structure. Modern democracy is exercised on the basis of the permanent vote banks and solving problems of a group equals erasing this group identity. Those who divide us and rule us always dine together.
The carnival
These days they call it election. In the old days, an elephant used to elect the king by putting the garland in the head of his liking. These days, they laugh at the old system. I do not know which system is better. It is because I am only interested in the carnival that it is. Pandits say, they should not sell their vote for one meal. But people know better; these folks have sold their soul. Pandits milk their mothers and sell the milk for the carnivals.
Carnivals come with many colors. They have a cursing monster in one village. He curses anybody who would not vote for him, and the public trembles. In other places, it is plain and simple. If you elect our enemies, we will be powerless to take away your medicine and wage. We won’t have the right to rape you and kill you if you abort. And the public gets scared. And they vote and elect the leader. Who gets elected is not the game. It is not the objective of the carnival. What is the agenda is not what constitutes the carnival. It is the coming together that makes it possible.
Changing the name does not change the content. In our times we used to call it a carnival and these days they call it an election. In some villages, they elect their leader democratically. And whoever does not vote for their beloved leader is killed.
In some places, they vote for the snake oil, and they laugh at others for electing their leaders for the lizard oil. “This is really funny,” they say. This is really troubling how people get easily conned, as they are selling the lizard oil in the name of the snake oil.
The bard
He after all has a legacy to upheld. From the time immemorial, they have been the royal court bards, his ancestors I mean. And now when the royals drowned themselves in their own blood and new emperors came with their own bards, he is confused of his obligations. All the memories he has are of the songs of the generations of kings. He in a sense is a historian. He has composed history in songs and he has lived history in his memories.
He tried some roadside singings but did not earn much. He tried composing songs but nobody bought them. He tried many things but could not find passion in those things. Singing the glory of the rulers is deep in his veins; this has been his philosophy.
When I met the bard, he sang his own glory, of how the songs his ancestors composed breathed life in all that is alive.
Disease
It should be mandatory for anybody who wants to be a political leader to take a 3-6 months intensive course combined with neurological treatment for having the desire to rule over the others who are equal to them. Political ambition should be first treated like any other disease and the leaders without such treatment should not be allowed to run.
God’s Plan
Having witnessed the devastation of his creation by his followers, their unwillingness to accept rationality and their never-ending holy-wars and the genocides launched in his name, remorseful God sent the most grotesque among his clowns to earth to rule the land governed by narcissism so that the humanity could finally emancipate from the primitive ideas and evolve as a rational species.
the teddy bear
Barely two years old, Jose does not know what Capitalism or Communism is. Jose has yet to learn about the national barriers or the races among the humankind. Jose cried when some unknown “father” dipped his head and was happy to be back to the lap of his mother. Jose is unaware of the journey his parents made to give him a dream life.
Jose does not know the distinction between concentration camp and detention center. Jose only knows his parents are not with him. And he cries today because they took his teddy bear. Those carrying guns in the street are protected by the second amendment. There is no amendment for poor Jose to keep his teddy bear. The nation of the brave is mortified what little Joses might have hidden inside those teddy bears. The home of the free triumphantly laughs today with some teddy bears snatched from little Joses.
Tears
Tears are shattering and sometimes amazing. There are tears of sorrow and of happiness. But sometimes, there are just tears. You can call this diplomatic tears, fox tears.
When two nuclear nations come close to eruption and the globe stops breathing,
there comes onion as a savior.
And when one nation wants to bring to the halt the other nation,
it stops importing onions.
If the flights are suspended,
the nations depart their ways and nothing happens.
If the consulates are closed, the nations go on their own ways and nothing happens.
But onions? They are the tie-breakers.
When the onion import stops, the doors for diplomatic talks begin.
And this goes all the way to the kitchen cabinet as it also affects the ministers.
And like to good brothers, they come to some agreement.
For we can tolerate the tears of sorrow or of joy but the tears of onions?
Yes, this is the story of two great nuclear nations.+++(5)+++
News
My brother asks me, a bit amused, why I have no news channels? I used to. The news channels from the right and the left. And I became numb. Either I had to collapse from information overload or o stop watching. Watching the wars in particular. But again, a disease of the modern age, I could never go away from reading the headlines. As if my agency has any meaning in the events that unfold every moment.
I think you can train yourself in watching and be a totally ‘disinterested witness’ with no desire to exercise your agency. For as long as your agency is glued to the factory of news networks, you are fake, your subjectivity is projected by the media, orchestrated by the corporations, and you exist so that the rich can be richer, and those in power can be more powerful. Eventually, some will be enlightened, live their normal life, while knowing all that is happening. A total Vedanta moment.
I resist growing. I want my tears back. I want simple laughter. I do not mind being swayed by the news. So I have to select what to read.
What moves me today is news from Sigas, Baitadi, in Nepal. A remote health post, a pregnant woman in delivery, complications, the nearest hospital six hours away, and even the roadways after four hours of walking. A single nurse assistant, Janaki Pujara, is helping with the delivery. The infant is not breathing. No help in sight. For six hours, Janaki breathes oxygen from mouth to mouth to the newborn. And the baby cries. A moment of joy, for both Janaki and the mother.
This is just another type of news.
Nepal revolution 2025 Appeal
My Appeal to My Brothers and Sisters in Nepal
Revolution is not an event determined in time. Revolution is constant. I appeal to the leaders and activists to embrace this mantra. But this is not to say that there should be bloodstained roads and cities in flames every day. We need a system that recognizes and embraces change from within.
Revolutions are incomplete as long as the old actors retain their social agency. Like a tumor, the old actors need to be removed from the system, the social body. What we could not achieve in five decades, you achieved in five days. But what made our revolution meaningless? In the name of peaceful transition, we allowed old players to enter the game, and in every new revolution that the nation went through, the old actors continued to play their games. Agents changed, not the structure. Only the actors changed; the same old drama continued. Make this revolution complete.
Recognize the wealth and strength of Nepal. One in three Nepalis lives abroad. Please do not treat those living abroad as enemies of the nation. Recognize the new world order. A nation-state is not just the physical barrier that you carve in the map. Involve them all in the process of nation-building.
If your revolution is to exercise freedom from the grassroots level, suspend all the foreign donations and stop the INGOs from being involved in national affairs. Build courage to reject their money. No nation can be built on borrowed wealth.
Do not carve Nepal as an antithesis. She deserves a positive identity. Make Nepal the land recognized for its wisdom, for its diversity and harmony, and for its love for peace. Make this nation known with Janaka and Buddha. The leaders of our generation carved Nepal as negation. No nation-state should be identified in terms of the negation of another nation-state.
Your generation has to achieve what our generation failed to.
Rising from the Ashes
I was in 9th grade when BP Koirala gave his speech in Tundikhel. I still remember his voice, his words, and his willingness to die or keep trying friendship (mel milāp) with the king. And starting the next day, we left our classrooms and marched on the streets.
My friends who marched on the streets for 15 years were not very different from the youth of this generation. After the change, some enjoyed power and money. The majority was displaced.
There came another movement. The movement of the Maoists claimed to be the real movement of the proletariat. Some 17 thousand people were killed. All proletariats. All those who died were powerless people. Some road-workers, some teachers, some priests. Some teachers were attacked in the classroom. I was one of them. After the change, some enjoyed power and money. The majority was displaced.
I welcome change. I love change. I believe in change. But change alone is not progress. Change itself has no teleology. Change alone cannot accomplish anything. Our blood boils against tyranny and corruption, and we revolt. And we hope this new change is our answer.
Alas! As long as we do not change our inner constitution, as long as we, the people, are not willing to sit and reflect upon our core of being, our inner reality, these revolutions make no meaning. Yes, we need a spiritual revolution. We need to change our attitude.
We knew our leaders were corrupt, but nonetheless, we elected them again and again. We knew our leaders were mass murderers, and we kept electing them again and again. We offered bribes and used our relations. We became our nemesis. And those who could not are still in the streets. And others have already left the country.
The words of Bhupi Sherchan keep echoing: no nation is built without a few martyrs sacrificing their lives.
Hope this is the final wheel of time demanding our blood. And hope the phoenix of Nepal rises again from the ashes, and this time, not to burn again. Hope this brings justice to people, and hope no more Neros come to rule us again.
Leaders & relatives
Guruji said,
“for the extreme forms of vice,
one gets the result in this very life”
(atyutkaṭasya pāpasya ihaiva phalam aśnute).
Guruji cited Gita:
“when the virtue is spent,
they return to the land of the mortals”
(kṣīṇe puṇye martyalokaṃ viśanti).
Yours is not the only generation that revolted. Neither was mine. And there were great leaders who sacrificed everything for the system we have.
However, their children, their relatives, their connections, their dealers, all have exploited their names for the last three decades. Their relatives came to power by selling their names. And they became richer and richer. And today, I see many of my fair-minded brothers lamenting the decimation of their heritage, trying to erase their memory.
Their relatives sold them out. Their virtue ran over. And the same wheel will keep revolving.