(This article was posted in the ?Meditations? column of the Hindustan Times on 16 October 2002.) COMPLACENCY IS death. Naivete, one-sidedness, and innocence are other names for foolishness. In law breaking, ?ignnorance is no excuse?. The Bhagwat Purana instructs that ?Both by rising and by setting, the sun decreases the duration of life of everyone?, and that this holds true for all, except for those who utilise their time meditating and discussing topics of God. Meditation means fully focussing on our eternal nature and on the timeless Being Who is not subject to birth, death, disease and old age – the four unavoidable ?problems? of life. Queen Kunti credits the Supreme Lord with saving her and her sons the Pandavas from burning, and cannibalism, as her sons overcame all obstacles by fighting and intelligent action. She and the Pandavas are glorified in Vedic history, yet none of them had an easy life. Her most famous son Arjuna fought hard to obtain his desired goal. Being spiritual is not a passive affair, anymore than a strong belief in the undying nature of the soul guarantees a better future. Many pop versions of transmigration would have millions believe otherwise, but merely being convinced about re-incarnation is complacent. No one is assured of a better destination next time round. But isn?t all this a bit heavy? If death is so natural, why not just calmly accept it as inevitable? The difficulty is that dying is unpleasant. Any doctor will confirm that it means intense pain and suffocation. Medically we do all we can to prolong life. Yet complacency about passing away is so common that the finality is cast out of our day-to-day consciousness. So how to combat spiritual complacency? Well, if our lives are being shortened day by day, and – as the shastras warn- death could occur at any moment, we should be prepared. It?s not that we can expect to repair to the Himalayas, or Brindaban, when the time comes. Fortunately, we are by nature immortal. It?s the world in which we live that is temporary, with all living things characterised by birth, growth, sustenance, offspring, dwindling and lifelessness. When the Gita and many great sages assert that our consciousness at death will determine future life, they don?t expect us to wait until that frightful moment when human physiology is at its most dysfunctional. Life is time-limited, and we must be smart, always meditating to avoid a foul future. The outcome is bright for those who think right. The writer is emeritus member of the ISKCON Governing Body of Commission.

(The following article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times, one of India’s largest english language daily newspapers, on 10 March 2003.) Society is astray without God at centre THE ROAD to hell is paved with good intentions, so they say. Many wars were fought for ‘valid and necessary’ reasons. Most English people thought their government was helping the Indians when British armies colonized this land and its entrepreneurs exported Manchester-cut cloth and processed tea. Probably most of the UK citizenry felt their country was bettering the distant land’s superstitious adherence to false doctrines that kept her ignorant and undeveloped. Violence is not always immoral or illegal – such as when we defend ourselves against murder. So what is sin? Well one thing is that when schoolchildren are found guilty of violent crime, we need to do more than just worry. Core values depend on respect for authority and the absence of such value is rooted in Godlessness. Sin may be defined as disobeying the laws of the state or flaunting the laws of God. But what if I protect or hide an innocent person wrongly accused of a crime? What of the inconsistencies and injustices that derive from seemingly religious laws? What of ‘Good Samaritanism’? Looking deeper, it’s been said that the only sin we truly commit is not loving God enough. Love can be prosaic, verbal, mental, truncated, superficial, and perverted. Lions love their cubs, and surely Hitler’s mother loved him. Love of God can also be ‘familial’, primitive and shallow. Statistics show that most people would steal and cheat if they were sure they wouldn’t get caught. How is it possible to attain sinlessness, the mentality of not wanting to offend common decency or hurt others? Love of God ? like love of anything ? is not as easy and spontaneous as it seems. In its more advanced and enduring stages, love of God requires discipline, sacrifice, and voluntary austerity ? in a word, self-control. Those unafraid of controlling themselves and revealing their love for God (as opposed to just thinking they ‘love God’) live their philosophy. It is said in Rupa Goswami’s writings that a person who controls tongue, mind, words, belly and genitals is qualified to have many students. Goodness is essential if we as a race are to survive this century. If we value honesty, we need to show, not simply tell, what we think is right. We need to bring God back to life. The writer is emeritus member of ISKCON Governing Body Commission

(This article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times on 23 December 2002.) IF IT doesn’t work, dump it, blurts the trash culture mantra. Loyalty is pinched these days, especially when it comes to our four legged friends. Krishi go rakshya is mentioned in the Bhagavad Gita (18.44). Apart from the Gita’s non-violence messages, the cow, along with many species, requires human protection. But those who serve us may also save us. Check this out. Govinda, the family cow, one day stopped giving milk. Exasperated, Kharagpur agriculturist Dutt said, ‘No milk! You’re useless! Time for you to be taken away’. ‘Taken away, but I’ve been giving milk for 14 years, and the whole Dutt family has drunk it, made it into cheese, yoghurt, butter and ghee every day. Why does he speak like this – is it memory loss or cow-abuse?’ The cow’s doe-like eyes became sad. Just then farmer Dutt started up his tractor. He wanted to go to the lake, and preferred driving to riding Hayagriva his horse. ‘I hope he’s not using that noisy smelly thing just to go for a drive!’ Hayagriva whisked his tail angrily. Something made Dutt change his mind, however, and he set off downhill to the lake on foot. Suddenly, Govinda saw the tractor roll. Farmer Dutt had left the engine running and the machine was following him! Govinda raced. How to warn farmer Dutt? The machine was hurtling behind him. Couldn?t he hear it? It was too late for any warning. She ran across the hill as fast as her hooves would carry her, and bumped straight into him. He lurched sideways two yards, as the roaring tractor just missed them, whizzed past and plunged into the lake. ‘I suppose I’ll keep you now. Govinda, after all you did save my life,’ the cultivator muttered, ‘and Hayagriva is a lot quieter than that awful tractor. I think I’ll ride him around.’ Deer, elephants, spiders, snakes, birds, bees, butterflies, and fish, are called gurus in the Bhagavata (11.7.33-35). One can also learn loyalty from a pet dog and a ‘useless’ cow. People like George Orwell, who wrote the classic Animal Farm in 1945 (now being performed as a stage play in a central Beijing theatre), Walt Kelley (author of cartoon character Pogo Possum), Aesop, and the authors of Hitopadesh and Panchatantra have shown us that stories of thinking, talking animals can teach us all many lessons. Life-long education depends on our protecting cows, observing animals’ behaviour and adhering to shastric wisdom.

(This article was posted in the ?Meditations? column of the Hindustan Times on 16 December 2002.) I?ve got to admit it? s getting better, a little better all the time – a Beatles song ?COMPARISONS ARE odious,? said an English Bard, but who doesn?t indulge? For example, are things getting better or worse? Time-honoured tests inform that the soul is indestructible (Gita 2.20). But the surroundings are troubling, because we tend to be concerned with Planet Earth?s and the human condition. Eternal companions of humanity are enjoyment, love, hate, birth, death, disease and old age. But recent leaps in technology have given inordinate ease, comfort and happiness to many. We love ?modernity: entertainment at the push of a button, easier travel, instant global communication, fast food, fashion, medical progress and freedom to choose wider varieties of goods. But at what cost? Satish Kumar, editor of UK?s Resurgence magazine, says people?s activities have contributed to more environmental destruction in the last 50 years than in the 5,000 years before. Plus, we hear of global warming?s dark predictions that within 60 years coastal inundation will force a billion people to relocate their hearths and houses. If it?s all true, Kumar?s analysis indicates that new ways compare badly with the old order. We might also mark the gladiatorial trend in films and TV, and the increasingly violent entertainment that trashes boundaries of decency with multiple images of sex and sadism. Some even say the planet is in the hands of madmen, and that terrorism will breed nuclear warfare. Resources from the past key us into things that have endured for millennia, things like the Himalayas and the seas. We read in ancient texts that mountains flew, when bravery, honesty, truth, cleanliness, voluntary abstinence, and compassion were the guiding stars of people?s lives. Technical advances based on such values could resolve most dilemmas of the modern world. But how to effectively combine the old with the new? Well, spiritual intelligence is the medium, and meaningful questions need to be asked. Spiritual intelligence is neither left- nor right-brained. It is not merely logical, psychological or emotional. It seeks answers to fundamental questions like ?why am I here?, ?where am I going?, ?who am I, and ?why do I keep going?? This type of searching ensures their inner-existence has beauty and life, even when events outside generate hate and destruction. Buddhi yoga, or spiritual intelligence means to reclaim our deepest natures and to ask on the profoundest levels: ?what makes life worth living?? The writer is emeritus member of the ISKCON Governing Body Commission

(This article was posted in the ?Meditations? column of the Hindustan Times on 2 December 2002.) BILL GATES is investing two thousand crore rupees (US$400 million) in India over the next three years, his foundation announced last month. The money is for ?boosting education, business partnerships, and software development.? This marks one of his largest outlays ever outside the US. Flashback to an ancient parable, sometimes referred to as andhapangu-nyaya or ?the logic of the lame and the blind.? The story is about a lame man who has keen eyesight, but can?t walk, and a strong man who is blind. Individually they are very limited. But when the lame person climbs on the shoulders of the sightless one, they function as a unit, and by cooperating achieve many wonderful things. That?s the fable. With a minor stretch of imagination we might think of India — metaphorically, of course — as the visionary but economically weaker country, and the US — as a culturally blind but financially strong nation, temporary as these designations are. And lest we forget, it is often repeated that ?poverty is the wealth of the Brahmin.? Co-operation is the key. If there is to be such a thing as a worldwide ?human family,? working together for the common good has to be more than mere formality. Carrying each other?s burdens is part of love. The ability to trust comes from practical experience, and from being trusted. There are no shortcuts. Another tune-honoured phrase is Bhava-grahi janardana. This refers to accepting another?s good intentions and presuming that his or her faults will be overcome in the end. It also means combining abilities and working as a team. Maybe this is overly optimistic and part of the world-through-rose-coloured-spectacles syndrome, but if reality checks are on board, then we can risk such leaps of faith. Gates? investment in this country can be seen, among other things, as a significant gesture toward harmonising the world?s two largest democracies. Leaders of nations can make a conscious effort to work together, or at least encourage their respective entrepreneurs to do so. Integrating the wealth of India?s culture with the strength of American technological progress can benefit millions. As the eternal children of a very rich Father, our horizons are virtually unlimited. (The writer is emeritus member of the ISKCON Governing Body Commission.)

(This article was posted in the ?Meditations? column of the Hindustan Times on 23 November 2002.) THERE IS no entirely ?free act.? Everything we do is conditioned by circumstances before and after birth: culture, education, genetic make-up and karmic laws. True or false? The term baddha or ?bound-up? echoes throughout Vedic literature. It?s often seen in conjunction with nitya, and frequently refers to eternally illusioned or ?conditioned? souls. But what is this ?conditioning? and what is a ?conditioned soul?? Something enables us to enjoy many things, including life itself. But perhaps there is something unusual or wrong with this enjoyment. If so, what is it? Is there something so subtle, so undetectable, so invisibly below the ping of consciousness, that we cannot perceive its existence? Let?s call it conditioning. For example, if we look at hair conditioning and air conditioning carefully we see that no matter how hair or air is treated, the molecules and atoms- remain unchanged. Altered like this, however, the substances become un-fresh, abnormal and unnatural. They seem quite different. Here?s the rub. The soul is by nature pure, blissful, unchangeable, and eternal, or so the Gita would have it (2.20). So how can the pure soul be affected by impure material nature? If the soul is essentially untainted, how can a worldly atmosphere recast it? As soon as a soul is ?embodied,? it becomes attached to its surroundings, particularly the body it inhabits. For this reason, dogs bark, cats meow, and cows moo. Human beings crave fighting, loving, the arts, eating, sex, drugs, children, wealth, and intellectual prowess. But mostly we work hard to gratify our senses. In today?s world where wants are defined as needs, and needs become ?rights,? the right to have what you want can be addictive. So only accepting what we really need requires discrimination and steady awareness of another dimension. Shastras and great sages posit that ?happier? universes become more real, more enjoyable as we become more abstemious. Though not inversely proportional to material enjoyment, spiritual bliss embraces a certain degree of renunciation. So, how can we be ?in the world? but not ?of it?? Voluntary austerity is not as horrendous as it sounds. We practice it every day by avoiding gluttony, drunkenness, sexual surfeit, and every other kind of excess. Meditation fine-tunes us beyond passion, beyond peace, to joyous association with the soul. Meditation can become our lifework. The writer is emeritus member of the ISKCON Governing Body Commission

(The following article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times, one of India’s largest english language daily newspapers, on 17 February 2003.) Spiritual alchemy for the heart IN THE love market, lust is trading at an all time high. The forecast on values is dire. Religion just crashed. Therapists get rich as victims of affection increase, and who wants the dry life of a sadhu? A metaphysical tale concerns a man who regularly visited his glamorous but disinterested prostitute. In those days the illicit affair always started with a meal prepared by the hostess, who served her customer first. But on this particular night, she brought out two identical portions for him, one in an iron dish and one in a gold container. The unusual array prompted questioning. She replied: “I know what you want, but this is a lesson: you can’t judge a woman by her looks, any more than you can rate food by its containers.” Her graphic portrayal also reminds us that sexual rapture doesn’t equate with life long devotion. Maybe she overlooked a key psychic element, but love and lust are not natural bedfellows. Marriage used to be viewed as a duty and an honourable institu- ti on, rather than a ‘perfect romance.’ So is love dead? Krishna – often called the “god of love” – is sometimes referred to as a childhood thief, a youthful philanderer and an adult murderer. But His faithful followers know Him to be beyond these partially informed perceptions. His childhood on earth, His activities with the gopis, and His exploits in the Kurukshetra war are like nothing of this world, any more than prema can accurately be defined as ‘love’: The point is that God-love operates in an entirely different dimension. Study of the Lord’s reciprocal attraction for all living beings leads to a deep understanding of human need – psychological, physical, economic, intellectual and spiritual. Sadhu worshippers of Krishna have feelings which are redirected, rather than sublimated or suppressed. This is the true meaning of coming to one’s senses. Nothing is last. It is this redirection of human nature that is the missing link. The vacuum of spiritual training injures the health of all living entities, not just our children. Conversely, the study of its intricacies can generate immense benefit and even cure many of earth’s ills. You can’t force love or learning. but if we bring this dimension back into education, we all win, as love of God includes every emotion, defining moment and feeling our hearts are capable of. (The writer is emeritus member; ISKCON Governing Body Commission)

(The following article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times, one of India’s largest english language daily newspapers, on 10 February 2003.) Beyond time and space TIME AND tide wait for no man, so the saying goes. And Chanakya Pandit wrote that unlimited amounts of gold cannot purchase even a second of time gone by. An elated J. Robert Oppenheimer, chief creator of the atomic bomb, thought it apt, after his fierce invention, to quote from a Gita verse (“Time I am, destroyer of worlds”, 11.32). Billions are spent annually on gerontology to learn the secret of prolonging life, in effect buying time. Some are utterly convinced deathlessness will be achieved by the year 2099 – for those with fat enough pocketbooks of course. Yet no amount of plastic surgery (a growing multi-billion-dollar annual industry), organ replacement or genetic manipulation has been able to arrest the seemingly inexorable flow of time. For those convinced about transmigration and the eternality of the soul, time is still in perpetual motion. Its shameless march always causes shifting, aging, natural erosion, and transference of souls to different planetary systems and into different species (humans or higher preferred). Time is often thought of as destiny, an inscrutable force never fully understood or even partially harnessed. Many think the future cannot be predicted. It was reported that immediately after Gandhi’s assassination someone said, “The meaning of being Indian is to know that in the end the world will break your heart.” Who would have thought that a life like Gandhi’s would end so abruptly and so brutally? Similarly, who at the time could have forecast the fall of the Roman, Ottoman or British empires? Yet the demise of all civilisations and their leaders relegates them to footnotes in history, ultimately to oblivion. The stoppage of time, reversing or accelerating it, has been the subject of countless fictions and fantasies (such as H. G. Wells’ “Time Machine”) for centuries. But the Gita shlokas about the Lord’s appearance and ability to alter time, to dissipate clouds, part the seas, water the deserts and crumble mountains have been with us since time immemorial; and He’s always supporting the good. The Bhagavata (2.3.17) speaks of “Ksanah”, or time utilised for the purpose of meditation on God as freeing the practitioner from the ravages of age – a state all life-extension aficionados would love to attain. In the spiritual world there is no time (no past or future), only an inconceivably jubilant and delightful present.

(This article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times on 25 September 2002.) THE WORLD Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg just ended on September 4th (the South African government spent US$58 million). First, few can be proud of our world, because too many of us have been hoarding, dumping, and making deals such that the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, and the air, water and earth get increasingly toxic. Second, in my book Divine Nature, I referred to a world based only on the things we can see, hear, smell, touch, and taste. For many, such a world is the only reality, and they have no value or vision beyond this. Third, greed has herded us into cities, leaving millions of hectares abandoned. Our planet is far from crowded. A simple calculation shows that every man, woman, and child (about six billion in all) could be placed within the 210,038 square miles of France, with each person having about 975 square feet of living space. Fourth, when global economics come into play, activists like Maneka Gandhi, Vandana Shiva and Rajendra Singh are left swimming against the tide. Fifth, if the WSSD lacks treaties, agreements, targets, timetables, and sanctions for non-compliance, it’s because its delegates haven’t realised that God awareness is the key to biospheric stability, and the mantra most environmentalists should be singing is that of the Isha Upanishad, which teaches us that everything and every living creature is owned and controlled by God. Vandana Shiva would agree. The Upanishadic text goes on to suggest that we only accept necessities, echoing Gandhi’s maxim that the world ‘has enough for everyone’s need, but not enough for everyone’s greed’. Sixth, as rocker Sting once sang, “there is no material solution to our troubled evolution.” The WSSD skipped an essential issue by not appreciating or crediting the inherent connections and harmony that exist amongst humans, animals and plants, due to God consciousness. And last, but far from least, is this thought: without God as a starting point, any discussion on re-cycling, food security, and human rights yields no conclusion. When the root is missing, the trunk, limbs, and ultimately flowers and fruits cannot appear. Skipping environmentalism’s basis is abortive. God is in the picture, but who do we see? A space where life should be. The writer is emeritus mernber of the ISKCON governing Body Commission

(This article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times on 14 September 2002.) MANOJ NIGHT Shyamalan’s parents, who emigrated to the US, wanted him to be a doctor like them. They were hurt when he announced that he would attend film school at New York University. But after Sixth Sense earned over US$325 million, their attitude softened. His newest film, Signs, has grossed over US$205 million to date, making it potentially another all-time hit. It openly parades a religious theme, including the notion that there are “two kinds of created beings”: the *Daivas* and the *Asuras* or the godly and the non-godly. (Gita 16.6) Lapsed Catholic priest Graham Hess (Mel Gibson) sums it up. He mutters reflectively but clearly that there are two kinds of people in this world, those who think there’s something out there with a greater plan and those who think “we’re on our own.” It’s rare, especially these days, that a nebulous sense of spiritual dimensions, let alone a conviction that God exists, becomes a premise anywhere in popular culture. It’s unusual — full stop — that transcendent reality is featured in entertainment. More than a metaphysical fable, this film’s thesis is loud and clear: “God exists, He’s moral, and He’s going to protect me and my family.” This is the same proclamation one encounters at the very end of the Gita when the Lord assures Arjuna that wherever there is God, “there will also certainly be opulence, victory, extraordinary power, and morality.” Unlike many other Indian expatriates who have successfully plied a trade in the US, Shyamalan here publicises an awareness of God. And it’s surprising and refreshing that this message emanates from the most influential media known to humankind. Signs is definitely against the Hollywood grain. Maybe it’s a lot to hope for, but if Indian culture is to influence the world positively, global cirietna might be the place to do it. Film director Shekhar Kapur believes that by 2013, major entertainment will have shifted eastward – film stars will be Orientals, filmed cities will be located in Asia, and the entire industry will have an Oriental flavour. He feels that producers and directors will need to replace Tom Cruises with Indian or Chinese actors. Kapur’s thinking may be a bit fuzzy, but Asia needs to be ready. Cinematic distillation of India’s culture can bring lasting benefits for India and the whole movie industry. And what is that culture? Well, it’s God consciousness, as with Rain’s continual return to Ayodhya and good prevailing everlastingly over evil.