Apr 02, '07
In the beginning was the word, the word was with God and the word was God. And the…
But why am I beginning like this…what will my reader make of it?
The creation of the world starting with a single word: This has been told in the Bible, and before the Bible in the Vedic Scriptures. How will the reader know whether I am speaking on behalf of Jehovah or PrajaPita? How will the reader know that I am speaking of the Sak – the divine word, the OM, through which I was linked to the beat of the divine drummer with my first heartbeat? I think I should have written: In the beginning was the Sak…
But it couldn’t have made any difference; it’s my belief, it needn’t be general. I am sure that anyone reading anything shall make something out of it, which not necessarily would be what I thought they should understand, and that is why I have been told that it’s all subjective. But it is only an elegant hope of a writer that he wants to channel his thoughts, as they are – without any disturbance or interference, to the readers’ mind and what he has at his disposal as the medium? Words! What can a writer do if the medium itself is disturbing!?
I want to talk of words in purity – only if I manage to keep evil away from my knowledge domain.
O inaugural entity of man’s search for meaning, O figment of man’s imagination, O imperishable, O binder of ideas with the vellum – O word; why is it that without you, thoughts have no value?
Why is it that before communicating we have to master you? How did you managed to gain dominion over your creators? A slight, but it too has value, confusion starts when the worshiper becomes worshiped. O hollow creature, I know you can’t listen, you can’t reply because it’s not in your design.
It was when we created you from the deepest recesses of our mind. And what remarkable invention of mankind you were. When we applied various permutations on you…oh! Abulafia comes to mind while talking about your permutations, the very fact that he devoted himself in discovering God’s various names…anyways, this is the glory of your impact on us – with every image/thought we have associated a word, you; whom although I hate the most, can’t do without. I, though I regret, am using your various forms this very moment.
In the beginning we used you merrily, maybe because we had limited situations and experience, and in turn limited knowledge. But as we evolved, as our information-base increased, as we generated more knowledge from our surroundings we realized…the universe where we survive is infinite; that there is so much to learn, and our lives too short. This in essence is an ideal confusion, which I never planned to touch in this write-up but it anyhow manifested itself: The confusion of knowledge, the uncertainty of a seeker for the utmost meaning in life – there were times when I chanted in Solitude names of those who tried to untangle it: O holy trinity of Greece – so much we owe to you for your inquires, what you were doing under the eye of the Oracle of Delphi had been done, though different in form, many years back by the Saints of India. But how far have the Germans lead us after the Greeks and what the Italians are talking right now makes little sense to me. When I think I have understood everything, someone (he is called a philosopher among us) stands up from the haziness saying: “Here is new wisdom. Let them for hath understanding…” O God, not in particular – this is another confusion (We have made so many Gods that it becomes difficult to make out whom one is referring to. Ideas into ideas, ideas unto ideas and everything in this cyclic conundrum seems to be true at one moment and mean at another), I am bugged with this uncertainty…when will I know everything? Where should a reader stop reading in purity? O wake of Finnegan, are you of any help?
O Magistrate Ludi, O bearer of Ultimate Knowledge, O Krishna, O Allah, O Jesus – give me some dope. What is all …words fall too short to explain this confusion!
MahaRishi Panini, I take you as the first grammatologist, the first controller of words, the weaver of the first combinatorial design with words. See…again I come to words…
If you think it’s my agony then it’s not the way you think but it’s just an outburst when I realize that the tool we created to ward-off confusion in turn created more confusion.
Ok, let me not be too harsh – let words be there! As if I am the one who’s the authority to decide. But am I not, on a subjective level? I am the only controller, the only authority for my knowledge, which may in effect differ from that of the other’s. And maybe there is no Objective knowledge or Objective reality – sorry Howard Roark/John Galt. I don’t go the way you did. You were right for yourself but there’s some other pie in my dish!
Now, in this confusion only one thing is of extreme importance: communication. Let me search for a way through which we can best communicate with the aid of words. There should be another design of words rather than the present grammar. Some illogical juxtaposition of words that may help in better understanding the stuff inside our heads, maybe we are such stuff as dreams are made of – NO, let me not divert myself this time…let me stick to it. Where was I? Yes, the juxtaposition…
But with this seemingly elegant thought of mine I suddenly remember that Dubliner who dedicated his entire life to it, who looked into Homer’s Ulysses and whose wake was in turn looked upon by that Frenchmen who said words should be broken to generate meaning, what an elegant thought! There was another who wanted to bring everything in terms of Archeology…God there’s so much, they are so many…they are all connected…one follows the other, and they go on ad infinitum. Maybe I shall never know anything. Maybe, there’s nothing worth knowing and this so-called ‘search for knowledge’ is just a counter-nihilist approach to keep life moving. I should better stop. I started with words but cannot finish with them. I am finding it difficult to get the connection, its all-very confusing. It looks resolved at one moment and Byzantine at another, and that is why maybe that blind Argentinean, God bless his soul, had once quoted to which I can relate at this very moment. He definitely had felt the same emotion I am feeling right now. Maybe, he’s in some distant galaxy where souls are deposited and I am still in this labyrinth, which others call the earth; but together we chant, with our voice sounding as one, in the glory of this ever-present labyrinth: O Time Thy Pyramids.