The Great Ashokan Narrative

The Story We Know

Ashoka was initially a cruel king who killed a large number of his brothers in order to ascend the throne. He inherited a large empire and tried to expand it by waging a war against the neighboring kingdom of Kalinga. He won the war, but the gruesome sight of thousands of mutilated dead bodies at the war completely changed his heart. He felt repentant about it, stopped his empire-expanding spree, and converted to Buddhism after being attracted to the Buddhist principles of non-violence and renunciation.

We have two sources to thank for much of this information on Ashoka – his rock edicts and Buddhist scriptures (one Indian and two Sri Lankan). The scriptures talk about Ashoka of Mauryan dynasty. Mainstream historians are not much aware of Ashoka of the Gupta dynasty. As per them, there is only one Ashoka – Ashoka of the Mauryan dynasty, as given by the Buddhist scriptures. These Ashoka’s rock edicts mention five neighbouring Greek and Egyptian kings – Antiochos, Ptolemy II, Antigonos, Magas, Alexander II. Since these kings are dated to 250-300 BC, this has been the date arrived for Ashoka (Mauryan). As per the Buddhist scriptures, Ashoka (Mauryan) was crowned two hundred and eighteen years after the demise of the Buddha. This would mean that Buddha’s date is roughly 500 BC. And this date tallies perfectly with the date of 500 BC they arrived through the Aryan Invasion methodology. The calculations seem completely perfect and pretty straight forward, and mainstream historians have accepted these calculations completely for the last two hundred years.

The Paradox of Sources

The most troubling aspect with these date calculations is that there are two Chandragupts and two Ashokas in Indian history. And as per the writings of Greek traveler Megasthenes, the Gupta dynasty was ruling India at about 300 BC. And these writings of Megashtenes tally with the Puranic calculations as well. And Indian history does not talk about two Chandragupts or two Ashokas ruling India at the same time. While traditional Indian and Greek sources talk about Ashoka of Gupta dynasty ruling India at about 300 BC, mainstream historians have arrived at the conclusion that Ashoka of Mauryan dynasty was ruling India at around 300 BC. So we either have to discard the writings of Megashtenes as well as Puranic sources completely, or we have to see if mainstream historians have got the date of Ashoka wrong.

Several mainstream historians are not aware of this controversy. Even if they are aware, they dismiss Megasthenes as an unreliable writer and dismiss the Indian scriptures as pure mythology. They even easily shrug away the fact that other Greek accounts at the time of Megasthenes do not talk much about the presence of Buddhism in India. And almost all the mainstream historians are blissfully unaware of the presence of two Ashokas in Indian history. A handful of Indian historians are aware of this puzzle; they have suggested that the Ashoka of the Buddhist sources belongs to Gupta dynasty and he ruled India around 300 BC. However, the Buddhist scriptures clearly talk about the emperor Ashoka to be belonging to the Mauryan dynasty, completely negating the arguments of the few handful Indian historians who try to wriggle out of the conundrum. This has been the biggest puzzle that has been haunting Indian historical calculations for more than a century, almost like a Sherlock Holmes and Hercules Poirot mystery.

The rock edicts of Ashoka mention that Ashoka converted to Buddhism because of the remorse he felt on account of Kalinga war. However, both the Indian as well as the Sri Lankan Buddhist scriptures differ with this; these scriptures do not talk anything about Kalinga war! They talk about Ashoka being converted by the serene teachings of a certain novice Buddhist monk Samudra. Why are Buddhist scriptures silent about Kalinga war? While scriptures talk about 84,000 monasteries established by Ashoka, the edicts are silent on this; they do not mention any Buddhism related activities by Ashoka.

The Buddhist scriptures talk about Ashokan missionary activities to Kashmir, Maharahtra, Sri Lanka, Burma, Thailand, Mysore, Himalayas, Western India, and Greek country. However, the edicts talk about medical help to his neighboring kingdoms; they talk about the names of the kings and dynasties around his empire including Choda, Pandya, Satiyaputra, Kerala, Sri Lanka, and five Greek kingdoms. The scriptures do not talk about officials called Dharma Mahamantas in his kingdom, as professed by the edicts. There are several other discrepancies as well in the basic details of his life.

Ashoka (Maurya) of the Scriptures

The Ashoka of Buddhist scriptures is an exceptionally devout individual who used to fall prostrate at the feet of even the lay Buddhist monks. He was desperate to be known as the greatest of all donors to the faith of the Buddha.

Indian scripture mentions that, at the end of his life, he donated almost everything he had to Buddhist monasteries. He was someone who wanted to ensure that Buddhism spread all across the globe. In Bengal, one follower of Mahavira drew a picture showing Buddha bowing at the feet of Mahavira. Ashoka came to know about this and ordered that all Mahavira followers at that place be executed – 1800 of them were slain in a single day! He decreed in a similar manner on another occasion, promising gold to those who brought slain heads of non-Buddhists!

And Ashoka went out of his way to convert people into Buddhism as some legends show. He wanted to convert his brother Veetashoka to Buddhism; for doing this, he enacted a drama. One day, he contrived with his ministers to get Veetashoka sit on the emperor's throne for a few minutes. He then, as if he was not aware of the happenings, caught his brother in the act. He then declared that his brother sitting on his throne is an act of treachery and decreed that his brother be executed. Ashoka, however, gave one week time for the execution and let his brother enjoy all the royal comforts for a week, as if he (Veetashoka) were the emperor. At the end of the week, Ashoka called his brother and asked him if he enjoyed the one week of heavenly comforts of an emperor. Veetashoka told him that the death that was hanging on his head did not allow him to enjoy the heavenly comforts at all. Ashoka then told him, "if you are oblivious to pleasures just because of one impending death, how do you expect enlightened monks to be happy about comforts of this life when they have to fear the deaths of hundreds of lives in future births?" Veetashoka was taken by this and converted himself into a Buddhist monk. 

Ashoka (Gupta) of the rock-edicts

However, the Ashoka of the rock edicts gives us a completely different picture. In one of the edicts, he does profess his faith in the Buddha; but that is about it. There is no evidence that he carried out any missionary activities. None of his rock edicts mention anything about the teachings of the Buddha. In fact, the Ashoka of rock edicts talks about equality of all religions! One of the edicts, mentions the following :

"Beloved-of-the-Gods, King Piyadasi (Ashoka), does not value gifts and honors as much as he values this - that there should be growth in the essentials of all religions. Growth in essentials can be done in different ways, but all of them have as their root restraint in speech, that is, not praising one's own religion, or condemning the religion of others without good cause. And if there is cause for criticism, it should be done in a mild way. But it is better to honor other religions for this reason. By so doing, one's own religion benefits, and so do other religions, while doing otherwise harms one's own religion and the religions of others. Whoever praises his own religion, due to excessive devotion, and condemns others with the thought 'Let me glorify my own religion,' only harms his own religion. Therefore contact (between religions) is good. One should listen to and respect the doctrines professed by others. Beloved-of-the-Gods, King Piyadasi (Ashoka), desires that all should be well-learned in the good doctrines of other religions.

Those who are content with their own religion should be told this: Beloved-of-the-Gods, King Piyadasi (Ashoka), does not value gifts and honors as much as he values that there should be growth in the essentials of all religions. And to this end many are working -- Dhamma Mahamantas, Mahamantas in charge of the women's quarters, officers in charge of outlying areas, and other such officers. And the fruit of this is that one's own religion grows and the Dhamma is illuminated also."

The Great Ashokan Narrative

Unable to explain these dichotomies, some mainstream historians have dismissed the Buddhist scriptures as unreliable; they go purely by the rock edicts to get a picture of Ashokan personality, while they rely on the Buddhist scriptures for historical aspects. We can see as to how selective they have been about the whole Ashokan episode -- they have dismissed Megasthenes as a liar, they have dismissed the Indian scriptures as pure mythology, they have shrugged off other Greek writings, and they finally have dismissed even the Buddhist scriptures! I think that they have a whole lot of answering to do about the Ashokan episode, even if they seem to currently think that their calculations are perfect.

I think the whole confusion has arisen because there are two emperor Ashokas, and both are Buddhists! The Ashoka of Buddhist scriptures belongs to the Mauryan dynasty of 1500 BC. He was a compulsive individual, devout in his faith, and took steps to spread his religion far and wide by sending missionaries and constructing Buddhist monasteries and stupas. However, he had nothing to do with the edicts and the Kalinga war. The Buddhist scriptures are talking about Ashoka the Mauryan. The scriptures mostly talk about parts within India -- Kashmir, Maharahtra, Mysore, Himalayas, Western India. Buddhism was not yet spread in India by his time -- so the scriptures are clearly talking of the spread of Buddhism within India under Mauryan emperor Ashoka.

The Ashoka of the edicts belongs to the Gupta dynasty of 300 BC. He was the one who was involved in Kalinga war. He felt remorseful and later converted to Buddhism. However, by his time, Buddhism was already spread far and wide and there was no need for him to send missionaries. Moreover, by his time, Buddhism was reeling under the onslaught of Sankarcharya and the Vedic religion was making a comeback. As we shall see a little later in this discussion, Buddhism was in a confused state about its ideology because of the theological attack launched by Sankaracharya. Buddhism was in a transition stage and it did not give much scope for missionary activites. So, Ashoka the Gupta was not hawkish about his religion, but was much more tolerant of all religions. And the places mentioned in his edicts are mostly his neighboring kingdoms -- the edicts are not talking about places within India. The places mentioned in the edicts are Choda, Pandya, Satiyaputra, Kerala, and Sri Lanka on the south of his empire in South India, and five Greek kingdoms to the northwest of his empire. The places mentioned are clearly not talking about spread of Buddhism within India.

The two Ashokas are completely different. The confusion has arisen because both are Buddhists; so both the stupas and the edicts are being attributed to one and the same person. If we consider that the edicts belong to one emperor while the stupas and monasteries belong to another, the riddle is solved. The two Ashokas have been merged into one by historians.

So if we arrive at the date of 1500 BC for the Buddhist Mauryan emperor Ashoka, as per the Buddhist scriptures, we can easily arrive at the date of the Buddha. Buddha precedes Ashoka by two hundred and eighteen years. So this would put Buddha at anywhere between 1700 BC and 1800 BC. This roughly tallies with the Puranic calculations as well, which put Buddha’s date to around 1800–1900 BC.


Source: Stephen Knapp

India: Minorities unite for the majority

There's a different kind of air blowing across the country. Everybody is instigating a fear of majoritarianism. We are the last large democracy standing in a long history of democracies being brought down by oppression of one or more minorities by a majority.

I beg to differ. I beg to present a different case.

Take a case as simple as language. All over the world, ethnicity is more divisive than language. But India's history has been dotted with language-divisive issues. Andhra Pradesh was the first of many states to be formed on a linguistic basis. Whatever the politicians or media might have said, language division has made administration easier. Difference in language doesn't invade upon culture.

India holds a peculiar reputation. The minorities, ethnic and linguistic, spread throughout the country from tribes in Orissa highlands to fishermen in the coasts of South, everybody has visibly put in efforts to learn the language of the majority. Barring one state, everybody has tried to accommodate the insecurities and needs of a large Hindi-speaking population. I have enjoyed company of people from diverse geographies of this country, and some observations have become evident.

A Hindi-speaking person expresses distaste and disdain upon finding himself among people speaking a language he doesn't understand. A person from a linguistic minority tries to adapt quickly and speak his way around if finds himself in a Hindi-speaking state. Now, TV serials and Bollywood have held people's fingers and taught them bits of Hindi. But this spread of Hindi should not be attributed to an assumption that 59% of population is trying to learn the language and a superiority of the majority 41%. This assumption makes no sense because since Independence, the linguistically diverse Southern states have recorded much higher human and infrastructure development than the Northern Hindi-speaking states. They neither look up to the northern states, nor are they trying to imitate anything.

Only one school of thought provides a justified answer to this trend of learning Hindi observed throughout the country for decades. Atithi devobhavah. If a Hindi-speaking person lands up in another part of the country, the locals wouldn't want him to feel alienated. Just a few words of Hindi creates a large comfort and relaxation, which in turn opens up the eyes to recognize a common set of human and cultural values underlying this myriad hues of lifestyle and customs throughout this great country. A country where the minorities adapt themselves to make a easier job for both themselves and the majority.

Yaari and root bridges.. they only grow with time !

Evening, Day 1

 

We had to get out. Don't know where, don't know how, but soon. The only hassle was there weren't any bikes. We had already tried twice the same week, but some Manipuri gang had booked all the Enfields. But thank our stars, today was it. The guys managed an Enfield, and we already had a CBZ. It looked weak and rusty, thanks to the horrible stretches of road between Guwahati and Silchar. Amidst a heap of cons, the only reason we took it along is because we had no other choice and if it could make it back from Silchar, our trip would be a child's play.

But you see, I wouldn't be writing this if it turned out just that way..

Bon Voyage!

Vishal and Narendra went to get the bike, and oh babe weren't we in for a surprise! To make up for the CBZ, fate had delivered a new Thunderbird 500cc. For a guy whose riding experience was limited to the likes of Splendors and dad's CD Dawn, this was a beast !!

It goes like this... you can sail effortlessly at 40 just on the first gear, and I'm not even talking about the pickup. When you push that throttle, the bike throws forward jerks like it may just take off any instant. Aah.. I'm so bad at putting this down in words, you better see it yourself.

By 7 we were past city limits and were looking forward to reach Shillong by 9.30 max. Then 20 mins behind Umiam Lake, the CBZ died. It just slowed down, rolled over and died! In the middle of nowhere, in pitch-black darkness and no signs of any repair shop nearby. By the way, for those out on bike trips in North-East, remember that you won't find bike repair shops on the roadside. There'll be truck repair shops galore, but just none that see bikes. Vishal and Naren went around to find help, while I and Ravindra helped ourselves to some drags.

4 guys. 1 bike that runs, and 1 bike that needs to be carried. And, it was 9 already..
Everyone took out their towels, made knots, tied one end behind the Thunderbird, and the other in front of CBZ. And for the next three hours, the beast carrying me and Vishal, pulled the CBZ with Naren and Ravi up the hill slopes. It was a ride to remember. The towels broke 2-3 times in between, each time the rope getting shorter and the job tougher. It had struck just 12 when we silently rode into the sleeping town of Shillong. A few Army men patrolling the streets chuckled past as the Enfield's thump sounds broke the eerie silence of the night. I was imagining the sight they must be beholding. We felt like brave heroes finally making it back into civilisation.

The night wasn't over yet. It was past 12 and all the hotels had closed. The few that were open were houseful. We parked both the bikes in a supermarket's parking lot, and found a small marble-laid extension outside what looked like a hotel. It was so chilly, the four huddled up together, covered ourselves with jackets and forced ourselves to sleep.

Day 2

 

My nap broke when somebody opened the shutter from inside. They were opening up, and it was time for us to leave. Out on the street, with each passing moment, all that misery and cold started draining out. The cold mountain air, the first sunbeams in your eyes, the tea so good... it was like a reward for enduring last night.

Funny, this feeling lasted just until breakfast. The repair shops were to open at 9, so I and Ravi took out the beast for a run. Since last evening when I first saw it, I just wanted to get my hands on that throttle. Ravi's turn first.. we set out exploring the hill town. We took whichever turn we felt like, and owned those streets like a boss. It was like riding atop a roaring lion. The sound just scares the shit out of those still crossing the road. On the way back when I got to ride, there came this big stretch near the Commandment area, and there was a lot of small traffic and people buzzing around. I put down a gear and Ravi said "kya kar raha hai? tu chalte reh, hat jayenge.."

Whatta idea.. I held the clutch, maxxed the throttle and blew the Bullet horn! Oh man, I'll never forget that sight.. as the sound waves passed the stretch ahead, all the small yellow Maruti cabs just came onto the left in a line and the road became crystal clear. The people had also stopped by the lanes. Two gears up, we flew by like light! After admiring and taking in the 'beauty' of Shillong and it's people we took the CBZ to a mechanic. We ended up spending some 1500 odd bucks, but the bike wasn't really back to its prime. Something seemed wrong riding it. The engine used to stop if the throttle wasn't on the higher pulse. So whenever you get a downward slope, if you let down the throttle, the engine goes off.

This was a tough nut to crack, and then came along a bigger jolt. Mysteriously, the rear brake of Enfield malfunctioned. I repeat, the rear brake! Maybe the story would get complete if we crashed down some cliff. The day was going from bad to worse, so we decided to give it one last time. After you exit Shillong on the IAF road, you get the steepest slope in the city. And the slope's quite a stretch, thus a good testing ground. Narendra and Vishal, the pioneers went first and both couldn't tame the bitch. I made a meek effort too, but when you come back down such a slope, it's hard to hold the clutch and keep braking, but what takes bigger guts is to hold the throttle on the upper. Finally, Ravi went with it. After some time, he comes back and says "Yaar chacha chal sakti hai.."
We couldn't even understand how he can think of taking this on the ride ahead, but then he showed us and he could get the bike to not stop. Plus, he was the lightest of us, so the engine had it easier.

Now the other problem. Three people were to ride an Enfield 500 whose rear/main brake wasn't working. We rode for a few miles out, when the CBZ started coughing again. We turned back. The previous night was crazy enough, and we didn't want a sequel. Back in Shillong, there was a shed near the Commandment area that Vishal vaguely remembered. The place was called Jhalupara, supposed to be the first of settlements in the town. Now, it had just become a basti. Police Bazaar shuts down by 9, buy this place remains abuzz till midnight. And this is where we met Sumon da. He was our saviour angel in that time of crisis. Short but peppy, he worked with an uncommon diligence. He kept popping in a cigarette one after another, and in just half an hour, he had breathed some life into our CBZ. Surely, the earlier mechanic had fooled us for Sumon da just charged 60 bucks, and then treated us all to some chai and chowmein. Whatta guy! The more we talked, the more awed he left us. He had a self-customized RX 100, which carried an extra 5th gear and raced alongside the likes of KTMs and Karizmas.


There's a pretty active racing circuit in the town outskirts. Every month or so, racing championships are held along the Shillong-Mawlynnong and Cherrapunji stretches. These bikers are hugely respected even in the town. Apparently, a recognized racer carries a license which permits him to ride above the speed limits within the town, and still doesn't get objected by the police. Sounds too good to be true, isn't it?

Then came the verdict. Sumon da said it is totally futile going on to Mawlynnong. He said, the CBZ can't ride slopes and carry weight simultaneously, for the injection valve burns itself out on account of the roasted engine. Plus, there wasn;t anything we can do about the rear brake on the 500. There! All that pain and hope was for nothing. Dejected, we bought ourselves drinks and retired for the night. Off to Guwahati next morning. Let's as well party tonight atleast..

Day 3

 

Everyone was up by 6. Hung over, but absolutely glum. And then someone said it, don't remember who but I remember the words, "Chale kya?" Oh! Everybody was waiting someone would say this..all the heads nodded in one go, chalte hai!
Ravi took on the CBZ, and we the rest of us saddled onto the Enfield. We tested 'em again for half an hour on the IAF slopes and Ravi waved the green flag. There was no looking back. We had the whole day ahead, and too much spirit in the head. We stopped at times in between. This is what we had come so far for, right? Every man needs his solitude. Lush green hills playing peekaboo through wafting clouds, the cold misty breeze... one can't write beyond this to capture that.

After we took the left towards Mawlynnong, Naren set the tarmac ablaze. He didn't give a damn whether the road climbed up or down, turned left or right.. he kept on cruising in the 90s. Vishal kept pegging him on. So, I quit worrying, stopped watching the road, put on my earphones and took the backseat view. In that moment of bliss, a hump must have appeared on the road. For that second when I was in the air, I just told myself to land on my back and hope the bag might just save your head. And then I landed on the back rest and stretched my arms for dear life. I grabbed onto Vishal and chanted awhile in gratitude.

Finally, it arrived. A sign pointing right: Mawlynnong 17. We were riding through a proper jungle. Steep nasty curves. We were climbing up a slope at a decent speed and just where it went down, there was a Maruti ahead and a Swift Dzire just in front stopped in their tracks. If we had collided head on, Bullet ka toh kuch nai jata, par Dzire ki plastic dicky andar ghus jaati.. Chacha turned the handle, the rear slipped and the beast went down. And took down both Chacha and Gawade under it. Both of 'em raised their hands outwards and relaxed their bodies. Freaked out, I quickly got back up, opened the side stand on the other side. The Maruti's driver rushed to our aid, then we together lifted the body and just let it go onto the other side upon the stand. Well, nobody was seriously hurt thankfully but the rider's right footstand was now broken. The rear brake didn't work anyway, so it wasn't again much of a trouble to get a resthold.
On reaching, we parked the bikes and headed straight down to the stream. We badly wanted a good bath!

 Root bridges. This is what Mawlynnong is famous for, apart from being titled Asia's Cleanest Village. The young roots from trees of opposite banks are tied together, and over generations, these roots become stronger, bigger and make a big, sturdy bridge.. amazing !

It was evening by the time we set out back for Shillong. We had to reach before the shops along the road closed, in case of any bike failures. When we thought all was over, the CBZ ran out of fuel at the main junction. Just an hour back, we had seen a short flexible pipe lying in the village. We had taken it lest we needed it. Thank our stars! We pumped out petrol from the Enfield to the CBZ. All the way, I felt even the chai had a a petrol flavour..

I'll never forget that ride in the night. It was so beautiful yet so scary. The CBZ's headlight seemed like a zero-watt bulb. So we let Ravi ride ahead, but close enough to be in our Bumper light's range. The Thunderbird 500's got three modes of the headlight alone. We kept reminding Chacha to blow the horn for Ravi whenever we saw lights behind the mountain curves. It was so dark that we had to watch how the road edges turn to know which way it's gonna curve. Finding the edges was tougher.. it was somewhere between the hues of gray and green. I was sitting in the rear. After some time, I realised there are two pairs of eyes already watching the road, so instead of rushing my blood watching ahead, I shifted my focus on the sky above and the music in my ears. I could not recall seeing as many stars in the sky as I saw that night. Back in Guwahati, the dusty clouds cover 'em all up.

We rode into Shillong around 9pm. Safe and sound. The journey had almost come to an end. Suman was anxiously waiting at the shop, long after it closed. We put away the beasts and retired to our quarters. Sumon and Vishal went out, got some food and then everybody sat back, relaxed and blew off all steam. Everyone slept like a baby that night. Inspite of everything, we finished what we started !

Day 4

 

We were damn hungry but had just 50 rupees left. And they sent ME ! Everything was costly, when we had to satiate 4 tummies. Whenever Mummy, Papa and me went out on trips, Mummy had this standard breakfast ready early morning. Good ol' bread jam ! One packet bread, a pack of jam, and I still saved 5 rupees. Sigh.. there was nobody around to see how smart I was. The road from Shillong to Guwahati was like a dessert to the feast. The slope's down and the road's big and neat. We stopped midway once at Umiam Lake. We had to stop here, after all.. that's what my home is named. In four years of college, whenever we said we were going 'home', it always felt more homely arriving back for the semester than leaving. Umiam made men out of us boys..
 

What's future like?

Wiki says Pascal's Wager is an argument in apologetic philosophy. I didn't know there was a field of study by that name. Anyways, read on and maybe you too can appreciate the brilliance of it.

The wager uses the following logic (excerpts from Pensées, part III, §233):

1. God is, or God is not. Reason cannot decide between the two alternatives.
2. A Game is being played... where heads or tails will turn up.
3. You must wager (it is not optional).
4. Let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is. Let us estimate these two chances. If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing.
5. Wager, then, without hesitation that He is. (...) There is here an infinity of an infinitely happy life to gain, a chance of gain against a finite number of chances of loss, and what you stake is finite. And so our proposition is of infinite force, when there is the finite to stake in a game where there are equal risks of gain and of loss, and the infinite to gain.
6. But some cannot believe. They should then 'at least learn your inability to believe...' and 'Endeavour then to convince' themselves.

Sums up much of life in a nutshell, doesn't it? Point 6. All those rants your loved ones make seem more understandable now, doesn't it? And he's the very same Blaise Pascal we read about at school.

Ending it with a perfectly complementary thought by Noam Chomsky, my man!

Optimism is a strategy for making a better future. Because unless you believe that the future can be better, you are unlikely to step up and take responsibility for making it so.

"Aajkal ke bacche!"

I guess India IS a mystic land. The only things kids need here is access.
You see.. it's very easy to get ooohs and aaahs the first time you show them something different. The trick lies in trusting the kid with it.

This one time when I went to native Odisha, I had carried along my laptop. During an afternoon siesta, I was watching a movie when my cousin came in to sleep alongside. He knew I was busy watching, so he didn't poke me and just stared into the screen. He snugged in a little, and I gave him one of the earphones. The movie ended, I closed the player, shut the laptop down and went to sleep. In the evening, I was reading a book when he brought the laptop and asked if he can see it.

"Sure. Just don't click anything you're doubtful about."

I dictated him the password, and just sat beside finishing the book. For the next one hour, the only talk we had was how to close, how to open, how to delete,etc.. just simple know-hows. It just rained clicks. He scooted in and out of every folder he could lay his hands on. Whenever a new sub-menu or options opened, he would take time to recollect all the English he had ever learnt and read and try to understand every word on the screen. He feared disturbing me, so I was thankfully spared all those doubts and questions. At the hour's end, he did a small fistpump which he thought I won't notice, but I did. He had actually played the movie we watched in the afternoon. He turned towards me and said in Odia,

"I hadn't watched from the start." :p

I was mindblown! He was just 7! I even remember revising the English alphabet with him the year before.. And this smart kid I'm so proud of studies in an Odia-medium school in the rurals. In the next few days, he could paint, play games, practise making sentences on the Notepad, etc. Often in my presence, he is told to follow in his brother's footsteps and become 'big' like me. Sometimes, that sounds funny. Because if he would've got the same shoes that I wore, he would be running ahead of me by miles..

Studies is important, we know. But tutions are definitely not. Give that time to the kid to spend it on what he loves doing. Once he tries, learns and conquers that, he'll derive an unspoken satisfaction and happiness from it. And it'll not be long before the kid feels thirsty again and this time turns towards his books..

And for this, we need to lift that 'restricted access' you run into every time your parents take your reins into their hands.

PS: Don't turn violent on your parents, you Komolikaas! Remember point 1? Conquer it. Do that good enough and your parents will start seeing it too.

Life on the reverse gear!

If you like reading, you should definitely travel across Goodreads. Here's one of the gems I picked up to share with the world.

“In my next life I want to live my life backwards. You start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old people's home feeling better every day. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, and then when you start work, you get a gold watch and a party on your first day. You work for 40 years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You party, drink alcohol, and are generally promiscuous, then you are ready for high school. You then go to primary school, you become a kid, you play. You have no responsibilities, you become a baby until you are born. And then you spend your last 9 months floating in luxurious spa-like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day and then Voila! You finish off as an orgasm!” 

Written by four-time Academy Award winner Woody Allen. :) 

Sher Singh Leo

A short nimbly 19-year old receives the ball just behind the half-line. Then, he softly places the ball away from a wide-leg incoming tackle, takes a touch to stabilize the ball, and with another sends it skimping between another defender's legs past the half-line. Next, He accelerates. Outrunning the beaten ones, He darts for the penalty area. He dodges one, skips through another's wide tackle and crosses the penalty line. The goalie runs towards Him having crossed the 6-yard line, but of course misses, as He deviates away from the Goal to avoid an ambush. Meanwhile, Eto'o had already reached inside the 6-yard and takes his position in the open as the ball continues to race towards the line. And then, He kind of shoots mildly just a few feet from the ground to avoid a def sliding by the post. Eto'o stood aghast in disbelief as the ball kissed the net and the world cheered the arrival of Leo Messi.

Change is inevitable. And growing in its stride is the real challenge. Facing a growth hormone problem when a kid, Leo often found himself playing against heftier boys. He was too small to shoot the ball, so he professed in dribbling and speeding up quickly to leave his opponents behind. Even when he started playing international club football, Messi had that magic in his touches. He just knew how the guy in front's gonna move, which way will he go, how far will his legs spread... phew! I think he treats the ball more majestically than his wife. But how far is this gonna take you? Just being a midfielder with good dribbling skills is not what makes you a legend. It was not long before Messi started taking kicks and was sent ahead and designated the official scorer. The boy just got more dangerous :D

One thing that has always been a delight to watch... There's absolutely no giving up! Numerous times he has been tackled or roughened down. Instead of lying around and appealing (or worse, create a furore about it) he regains himself and goes for the ball again. His childhood coach quoted, "At the club tournaments, Leo used to play against much bigger boys. Nevertheless, he scored 5-6 goals in every match. Messi used to just take the ball from the goalie and start dribbling and passing across the pitch..." All this fame and wealth sometimes gets to your head. But not in His case. Till the extent that I follow Messi, I've never seen any incident that comes even close to rival his genuine and loving being.

If you play football and if you love Messi, you can relate to the feeling when just by watching his videos, you feel inspired to Outwit, Outplay, Outlast.


A humble plea
Stop fighting over Ronaldo vs Messi. Both are extremely gifted players of this generation.
The only difference is.. I admire CR, but I love Leo.
CR's shooting, speed and dribbling skills are in a totally different dimension. Nobody can match him, and he has worked really hard for it. That's a lesson for all of us, in fact.
But Messi plays pure football. At first, it seems like he's one of us. Passing to his players, trying to go into the open, trying to build the game forward... but keep watching him. Stay fixated. It's like the calm before the storm. The show starts when Messi is just strolling around with the ball far outside the box, sees a flock of defenders trying to resist the advances of his brothers alongside, and then probably thinks to himself, "This is boring. Let's change the score. ;)"