Published 27 November 2001 TEMPLES, MOSQUES, churches, and synagogues are sometimes playing fields for the herd of sheep. This is how it works. Someone starts a chain reaction by sitting down, standing up or calling out ?Shanti Shanti Shanti hee,? and everybody follows suit. The whole congregation rises, sits, or chants, following the first ?sheep.? This tendency has been noted in books of truth as niyamagraha, or blind attachment to ritual. Niyamagraha is a kind of distracted obedience that impels us to act in correct ways. Religion – as distinct from spirituality – is something we learn at home. At some point early in life we start thinking about the hereafter. As humans grow older they become aware of 30 million devatas and five principal deities (Siva, Visnu, Surya, Ganesh and Durga-with Brahma and Laxmi sometimes thrown in or substituted). They now have a user-friendly, multichoice religious score card, the ultimate options game. But in this sport everyone. is equal, and everyone wins. By devotion to any one god, one can ultimately achieve God realisation. Devotion to many gods is distracting and opposed to the principles of yoga and meditation. The Bhagavad Gita twice uses the phrase ?vyavascyatmika buddhir.? 1t means “resolute in intelligence” and ?fixed in determination.? The first time the phrase appears, it is followed by the term ?ekeha,? single-mindedness. The essential meaning of meditation is to concentrate on a single object rather than pondering the complexities of life with the hope of arriving at solutions. The next issue is choice of object. A theory exists that all gods, meditational targets and philosophical points are equal. Freedom presupposes that we have virtually unlimited choices and that each choice will fully satisfy us. But shastric wisdom informs that we do not possess bundles of sovereignty and unlimited choices. In fact our cherished free will is usually limited to what kind of clothes we buy, who our friends are, our metier and our education. Our choices are far from infinite. Hinduism is at heart monotheistic, although currents to the contrary run deep. If – as many Vedic precepts assert – oceans can fulfill all the functions of small creeks, wells and ponds, all one’s needs, spiritual and material can be fulfilled by the omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent features of parabrahman. The Gita reminds us to be ?resolute in purpose? such that our ?aim is one.? So, if we’re going to meditate, let’s keep it simple, and do it right.

Published 5 November 2001 THE CASE for vegetarianism is not just about compassion and animal rights. It involves money, health, species physiology, the environment, population pressure on world food supply and Vedic wisdom. Britons opting for vegetarianism each week are almost outnumbering Indian converts to flesh diets. This is ironic because in India’s most revered book, Bhagavad gita, Sri Krishna Bhagavan asks for offerings of fruits, leaves, flowers and water but never flesh. Ahimsa, according to the Bhagawat Purana, was the sole purpose for Lord Buddha’s appearance and is still a basic principle of Hinduism. Killing animals and birds doesn’t sit well with animal right activists. But even from an economic point of view, flesh diets don’t work. Apart from being more expensive for the consumer, it takes between 7 and 15 pounds of grain to make one pound of meat. Regarding human health, longevity and personal beauty, statistics side with the veggies. Further, human intestinal tracts and teeth are made to suit a vegetarian diet, whereas the viscera and incisors of the dog, tiger, lion and other carnivores are clearly fit for flesh diets. Sorry meat-eaters, but these are physiological facts. And what about the environment? The amount of water required to raise one cow for slaughter is enough to float a battleship. The liquid manure from feedlots pollutes underground water systems and rivers. The packaging of meat, especially those used in fast-food chains, winds up as millions of tons of daily refuse. But let’s follow the money. The meat business, specifically the fast-food industry, is rapidly becoming the most popular and influential Western (read American) export to the world’s less economically endowed. By clever marketing (read billions spent on promotion), the US’s leading fast food chains have created a global fashion. In his book, Fast Food Nation, Eric Schlosser says that McDonalds opens five new restaurants daily, and that a minimum of four of them is outside the US. Now, one may wonder what does all this have to do with religion or meditation? A lot. Deep religious principles demand that animal species – especially cows – are to be cared for, stewarded, not dominated by humans, and not used for food, fun and fur. All living beings are, as the Gita informs us, mamaivamsho jiva-loke, jivabhutah sanatana (My God’s eternal fragmental parts). Being a vegetarian is not only a protest against economic exploitation and monetary inequities, it brings peace, happiness, and a closeness to God – assets which are greatly in demand in a frenzied world.

Published 20 October 2001 THE CONCEPTS of ‘One and Different’ are as old as the hills. Philosophers have grappled with them since the dawn of time. One wonders what does this seemingly difficult-to-grasp concept mean and why such apparent contradictions are (such as unity in diversity) still popular? Is there a spiritual dimension? The most widespread concept of God holds that God is an energy – even the source energy – or the manifestation of various forms, like Shiva, Surya, Vishnu, Ganesh, Durga, Brahma and Lakshmi. Meditation, yoga, nirvana and samadhi thrive in the West, are still considered the province of the mysterious East with its unbreakable ties to Hinduism, Buddhism and their derivatives. To serious students of Hinduism the array confuses. The six big names in authors of yore – Jaimini, Kanada, Gautama, Patanjali, Kapila and Badarayani – present a daunting tangle of different approaches. The idea of “different” embraces the conviction that God is in every different thing. This would explain the anthropomorphic gods. But where is the “oneness”? For answers, we needn’t look beyond the Bhagavad Gita itself. What does Shri Krishna mean when he says to Arjuna: “By me, in my unmanifested form, this entire universe is pervaded? And “All beings are in me, but I am not in them”. In his ‘unmanifested’ form, he pervades everything. But the universe is made of individual things. So this very pervasiveness is diverse. Then how about “All beings are in me, but I am not in them?” Well, there must be an original “I”! Oh? Excuse me, did you say you’re not “praying to an old man with a beard, sitting on a throne, communing with cherubs who float on clouds playing lyres and singing”? Many great persons, poets and sages, including Ved Vyas, Badarayani, Jayadev, Asita, Mirabai, Narada, Vidyapati, Devala, accept the Gita’s original “I” or original “one”. This may be a bhakti ‘interpretation’, but at least it’s not posing as the truth. We live in a world of competing truth claims. In 1996 and 1997, many thousands visited an exhibit at the Washington, D.C. Smithsonian Institution’s Sackler Gallery. The display – organised by Sarah Cunningham of England – was called simply Puja. Puja occupied all the rooms of an entire floor. It’s message: Deities in temples, homes and outdoor shrines fulfil the inherent human need to devote ourselves to a ‘personality.’ In the Gita, God’s form is depicted as not only an energy that pervades everything, but also as a personality. To meditate on a personality is no more difficult than constantly thinking of our loved ones.

Published 23 October 2001 SERVICE IS a tricky word. It is our nature to serve something or someone – a child, a parent, a grandparent, a pet, a manager, a teacher, or an elder. Selfless service, one with no expectation of immediate return, is something that every parent experiences. But even parents expect or at least hope that when they are old and feeble, their offspring will look after them. These days, service with no thought of return is indeed rare. Service may be a popular topic, but ‘devotional service’ is a sure conversation stopper. The tendency to exploit is so prominent, and so much is based on the unspoken assumption that ‘might makes right’, that it?s considered downright stupid to be selfless. But there are signs of change. Why did so many affluent Westerners flock to Kolkata – sometimes referred to as the derriere of the world – to be part of Mother Teresa’s mission? The tendency toward charity is still alive. But charity without God is missing. Religion has become increasingly social, a stepping-stone to and a part of material success. The trivada principle of artha, kama and dharma – without moksha – has become a way of life. It’s fair to say that spiritualism is dead or dying. Religion has become a no-no and the G-word (God) is pretty much taboo, just as the S – and F ? words were a few decades ago. When it comes to God, the public square is naked. Our democracy is increasingly secular. In the minds of many, service to humanity is service to God. But for the aspiring spiritualist, the reverse is what counts. Agni Purana states that “One who builds or helps build a temple for Lord Vishnu becomes liberated along with eight forefathers”. At least in this country, there is a strain of God consciousness in people’s blood. The unprecedented popularity of the Ramayana telecast is testimony enough. What we lack as a society is spiritual purity ? giving with no expectation of return. The problem is that too many of our godmen, rishis and gurus are counterfeits. The Fourth Tempter in T. S. Eliot’s play Murder in the Cathedral refers to the arrogance of martyrdom. The pride of the archbishop leads to his downfall. We live in a world where there are a thousand charlatans for every genuine person of God. Even among the ‘holy’ there is pride; pride that generates the pollution of consciousness and a hypocrisy that thinking people simply cannot tolerate. True saintliness is marked by genuine humility, and humility is based on the principle that everything belongs to God, including all the ‘good’ qualities of the sadhu.

VERSE 7.14 of Bhagavad Gita tells us that maya can be conquered only by surrender. Maya is difficult to overcome. But, the Gita states that those who have surrendered can easily cross over it. The Hollywood film Matrix, is a tale that says the world is illusory, a ‘virtual reality’ created by machines that have taken over the planet earth. They have subdued and grown humans, using them like batteries, to power the grand deception we call the world. Neo or Mr. Anderson (Keanu Reeves), the film’s hero, is killed by the machines but is brought back to life ostensibly through the love of Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss), his female co-star. And VCD and VHS renters beware; there’s no sex in Matrix. What appears to be a Buddhistic portrayal of a world that is fake, turns out to be a kind of love story. Two lost souls magically find each other and achieve victory amidst the ruins. Neo comes back from the dead, and becomes the leader of a militant underground, supposed to consist of the only homosapiens left alive after the machine takeover. Death is conquered by love, and not simply by realizing the world is ‘unreal’, or in Vedic terms, illusory or maya. Neo is miraculously brought back to life by Trinity, who confesses to his lifeless frame that she has fallen in love with a dead man, but she makes it clear that she’s not afraid any more. Her attitude of unconditional surrender parallels what the Gita tells us about conquering maya. And since a purpose of this column is to interpret life transcendentally, we can see human love exhibited in Matrix as super mundane. It’s rare that an American film would attempt to teach us something higher. But Matrix was made with that in mind. The world we inhabit is an illusion. And yet there is something that is real ? something that is beyond, something more compelling than a meretricious apparition. That something may be described as divine love or the Krishna factor. Out of all the grotesqueness that emanates from Hollywood, a film with supernatural intent is a rarity. Its success at the box office should be welcomed along with the observation that millions of people ? those not bedazzled by the project’s special effects and violence ? are in fact in search of the divine. Matrix indirectly shows that devotion, or bhakti, is the turning point at which we can ? in a natural way ? overcome the forces of evil and illusion that trap us in a shadow world not of our own making. (The writer is emeritus member of the IKSCON Governing Body Commision)

SO MANY times one has heard people attributing the reason for an action to God. In the name of Him, so many poor innocents killed, so much terrorism perpetrated. But such people seldom realize that mixing terrorism with God makes a sickening brew. Let’s know this for a fact: terrorists don’t believe in God unless there is a God who encourages the sudden and unexpected killing of civilians, workers, and children. God and the soul are correlative terms: atma and paramatma in classical parlance. Terrorists can garner fame and recognition from their peers, but the most dangerous sorts are those who live to die heroically by killing an unsuspecting “enemy.” Such persons, we learn, think that salvation means more sex, more drugs, and more fame – all in an afterworld and all for the pleasure of God. But we shouldn’t be surprised, for nonsensical notions of God are nothing new to human beings, especially in a secular world where God and the Devil can change positions at the drop of a sabre. But along with theology, all religions profess common decency. The Bhagavat Purana, for example, explains the original human nature is to be sattvic, and that only later during the initial process of creation do the modes of passion (rajas) and ignorance (tamas) pollute this seminal nature. That same Purana says that ideal human nature includes knowledge and renunciation. Although God is invoked as the ultimate sanctioning agent in many conflicts, wars are fought over land, economic power, and political or tribal supremacy. At least, holy wars like those in the Mahabharata, didn’t embrace kooky concepts of God. But that was five thousand years ago when civilians were spared the untimely death at the hands of cowards. Today’s wars, increasingly involve private citizens and are often fought in the name of God. And when it comes to terrorism, non-military personnel are almost exclusively targeted. Sadly, an extreme form of nationalism has given rise to popular usage concepts of “heathen” and kafir. This being so, gratuitous violence against those who are “different” is the next step. But religion – of any stripe, in any country – espouses love of God as its ultimate teaching and this is meant to transcend all confessions. In Bhagavad Gita, God specifically advises us to develop qualities of “peacefulness, self-control, austerity, purity, tolerance, honesty, knowledge, and wisdom” and that we should “give up all varieties of religion (sarva-dharman) and surrender unto Me. “

Submitted 26 February 2002 THE PROBLEM of good and evil has plagued us since the beginning of recorded history. Youth, personal beauty, affluence, high intellect, and strength are good; old age, death, poverty, ignorance, and disease are bad. If our senses are pleased, we are happy, and life is good. If our senses are displeased, we are unhappy, and life is bad. No less an authority than the Encyclopedia Britannica states that “in monotheistic religions, evil does not originate within the divinity nor in general within a divine world.” Thus, God is barred from hell, an eternal realm of misery. But a post-modernist philosopher would say that there is a third, more enlightened state. This concept was glimpsed in Shakespeare’s Hamlet where it?s said, “There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.” The Vedas imply that good and evil do exist and that they arise from the same source. But how can an all-good God be the source of evil? Simply put, evil is the backside of God; we can face the sun or our own shadow. A mother sometimes punishes her child out of love. To save her child she may angrily jerk it out of the way of an oncoming car, or punish it for endangering itself when it puts its hand into a flame, or rotating fan. On the macrocosmic scale, mother Durga gives us freedom but also enough rope to hang ourselves. By using her devastating weapons, she teaches us that taking refuge in illusion is ultimately bad for us. In the Eastern tradition, the second aphorism of the Vedanta Sutra asserts that everything – even evil itself – emanates originally from God. This tradition further explains how bad behaviour and the whole material world of suffering stem secondarily from our selfish bodily desires, just to purify us of them. Shrimad Bhagawatam (3.14.27) says that no one in the material world is equal to or greater than Shivji and that his perfect character “is followed by great souls to dismantle their ignorance.” Still, he “remains as if a devil to give salvation to all devotees of the Lord.” Contrary to conventional western thought, it is not bodily comforts or pains that make for good or evil. Rather, perfection is obtained by knowing that pleasing the Supreme Lord is good, and that displeasing Him is bad. It is this standard alone that raises us above the bodily concept of life, into the dimension of the soul, far beyond the interchangeable goods and evils of the world. Service to God is the necessary reference point we need to distinguish good from evil ? for our own good. The writer is emeritus member of the ISKCON Governing Body Commission

Published 16 February 2002 IS THERE such a thing as a param dristvam or ‘higher taste?’ And if there is, what is it? Is there anything beyond the simple God-given pleasures of eating and sex? The Gita tells us that “One whose happiness is within, who is active and rejoices within and whose aim is inward, is the perfect mystic”. (5.24) What’s natural for a human is different from what’s natural for an animal. True, we are animals, but we are also human. So what’s the difference? It’s the human part that we tend to forget, sometimes in the name of being ‘natural’ or ‘nature-like’. Words like ‘normal’, ‘natural’, ‘unvarnished’ and ‘pure’ are as misconstrued and misused as the word ‘spiritual’. In the 1960s, many thought ‘free love’ was spiritual. What do we mean by ‘spiritual’? Love for our own children is a pure (almost spiritual) love. We see forms of parental love every day. We call the child on the mother’s lap a ‘burden of love’. According to the commentator, Vishvanatha Chakravarty Thakur, to remove the child can be more burdensome than the child’s weighty presence. Parental love is quite different from the male-female conjugal form of love. The latter relationship often deteriorates into mutual gratification of desire and the discharge of loneliness and anger. What’s taken to be love may be lust, just as iron pyrite (fool’s gold) is sometimes mistaken for gold. Spiritual love operates in a different dimension. It’s interesting that both the British Oxford and American Webster’s dictionaries put the sexual and even romantic aspects of love after their first definition. Both define love first and foremost as an intense feeling of deep affection and a ‘profoundly tender’ relationship with another person. Spiritual love, like love in this world, is natural, but like lasting love in this world, it includes friendship, protection, servitorship, knowledge, ongoing cultivation, and deep understanding. Spiritual love or love of God is totally free of desire for return in the material sense. It is pure and not based on mutual sensory satisfaction. Does pure or spiritual love include and enable human love? Can it save a shipwrecked marriage? The answer is yes. Without knowledge of transcendental love, there is no full knowledge of love. The writer is emeritus member of the ISKCON Governing Body Commission

Despite all the trappings of singularity and the distinct marks of Indian Hindu culture (tilak, saris, dhotis, shaved heads, etc), Krsna consciousness subscribes to universal spiritual principles, such as cleanliness, mercy, austerity, and truth. Srila Prabhupada recommends that all governments enforce these principles.

ABOUT HAPPINESS, the Bhagavad Gita tells us: “One whose happiness is within, who is active and rejoices within and whose aim is inward, is the perfect mystic. Such a person is liberated in the supreme and ultimately attains the supreme.” These are times of great stress and pervasive secularism. We desperately want happiness and peace of mind. We look for jubilation in movies, sex, intoxication, adventure, financial success, TV, and web surfing. But after the highs come the lows, and there is always the unpleasant aftermath when the film is over, the alcohol or drugs wear off, the sexual activity ends, the adventure finishes or the program stops. For most, life is a series of ups and downs, crests and troughs. And yet we seek a permanent form of contentment on this roller-coaster. Pharmaceutical companies advertise dozens of tablets as cures for depression. These firms spend billions to help sell their products to an eager public. Happiness is what we all want. If only we could just take ‘happy pills’ that worked! But happiness does not come cheap and easy. Unless there is a spiritual dimension to pleasure, we never realize contentment. A recent study by the London School of Economics found that the happiest place in the world was Bangladesh. India was fifth. The affluent US and UK didn’t fare very well, coming in at 96th place and 32nd place respectively The moral is one we’ve heard before: money can’t buy happiness. Happiness is, as we know it, like karma. It is hard to get a handle on it. It’s fleeting and restless. It comes and goes like the fortunes of Laxmi and her unpredictable ways. Certainly, we feel happy when we are with people we love, and we want to retain that feeling always. Some, like King Henry II of England and his Archbishop of Canterbury, St. Thomas Becket (the two had been close friends in youth), felt that real love and happiness could only exist between human beings, and that love of God was ethereal, mysterious and absent of the milk of human kindness. This is where eastern philosophy and the Judeo-Christian concept of God are often seen to be at odds. In Gita, in the dialogue between Krishna and Arjuna, we find that Shri Bhagwan becomes the chariot driver for His warrior student and friend, putting Himself in the lower position out of love for His intimate devotee. This love and happiness is available in the transcendental realm, but the Gita tells us how to apply that ultimate happiness in the here and now and how to turn the material world into the transcendental abode. The writer is emeritus member of the ISKCON Governing Body Commission)