Wednesday, June 04, 2025

Wordilicious Word of the Week #3: Science


Science: ???

Unlike most entries in this series, I shall not start this piece with the dictionary definition or the etymological path of the modern word “science”. Unlike other words in the series so far, the modern definition of "science" represents a distancing from the original meaning of the word by those who practice it, rather than a deviation of connotation driven by environmental changes taking place externally. It is those who call themselves scientists, themselves who have adopted a changed definition for their practice.

It is thus pointless to mention the modern definition of the word 'science', because let's just say, it's not that.

This deviation, possibly amusing or just plain interesting for other words, stands in the case of this word as an indicator of a central malaise plaguing modern society, important as it is to our fundamental understanding of the world around us and our relation to the same.

Science is how we know.

In the search for what we know, modern science has left behind the question of how we know on the backburner, postponing it to the absolute possible deadline just like the spotty, nerdy, green college geeks that modern science is driven and steered by. This has been compensated by the classic overcompensationary tactic of heavy, often-dogmatic emphasis on the use of modern science, i.e. its principles, hypotheses, assumptions, and processes, in all questions of knowledge acquisition, not just by the institutions of the world but in the minds of the planet’s people themselves. Modern scientific principles have been elevated to the place of the default rationality, the de facto reasoning of the world, aided subtly by an effort to eradicate other ways of reasoning altogether, when there is absolutely no reason to do so, and quite a lot of harm coming out of it - all buried, of course, under pretensions of perfection, progression, and wisdom. Modern ‘spiritualists’, ‘alternative practitioners’, and ‘new age people’ face the same outlook from today’s churches that Galileo faced from the churches of his day, albeit possibly less intense and death-y.

Divided public discourse and generation gaps have always been the lot of humanity, but the fact that almost every single ancient religion (i.e. way of life) is distanced by the modern scientific mentality, not just as a source of historical facts but even as a source of ideas, even as a source of guidance on how to live; the fact that modern science often genuinely considers fiction and narrative to be a useless, even harmful way of gaining knowledge; and the pernicious invasion of the principles of modern science in not just public discourse but private thinking, makes it doubly important to clarify the meaning of this word, in the hope that as we know more about how we know, we can learn how to know more, how to know better, how to know more easily, more efficiently, and more productively.


Table of Contents:

Part 1: Just What the Hell is Science Anyway?

Part 2: कविं कवीनाम् उपमश्रवस्तमम् – Ganapati as the Personification of the State of Quality

Part 3: The OODA Loop: Staying atop the Wave of Quality

Part 4: शरीरमाद्यम् खलु धर्मसाधनम् – How Awareness of Body-Mind Unity Elevates the Individual

Part 5: The Misguided Effort of Modern Science to Materialize Anything and Everything

Part 6: गणानां त्वां गणपतिं हवामहे – Follow the Feeling, Not the Thought

Part 7: Jitendriya and Vighneshwar : How Hanuman and Ganapati Illustrate the Way to Know

Part 8: Accordance with Reality: The Distinguishing Mark of Good Science


Part 1: Just What the Hell is Science Anyway?

The benefit of a jargon rooted in organic custom is precisely that words, like rivers, can be traced back to their source, astounding journeys one and all, remarkable if made, and not for the faint of heart, a fact consecrated in the older religions by considering both words and riverfronts a sacred place, with the origins of many Indian rivers, certainly, being considered places of great calm and bliss and power and potential in Indic thought since time immemorial. In the context of the Indo-European languages, certainly, the importance of root sounds in cognition and motivation is well recorded, and pioneering branches of science such as psycholinguistics are progressively showing the high relative weightage given not to ascribed meaning but organic perception in the cognition of sounds in the human brain.

Science, or "knowing" from its original linguistic root, sciencia, means knowledge. However, rather than referring to a stored body of facts, the word, in its original context, rather refers to the state of finding out – the state of becoming knowledgeable. The state of discovery. The state of inquiry. Sciencia, in the original meaning, is the state of expanding the limits of knowledge. It does not denote a state of possessing previously gained knowledge, but rather that of discovering new knowledge in the first place.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, a book that comfortably stands among my top five and comes with a strong personal recommendation, describes Quality in the exact same fashion.


Quality is the primal subconscious perception of something before it has been defined by the cognitive capabilities of the brain, mind, and ego. This is that feeling that just doesn’t go away, that sensation that is recallable years, even decades later with perfect clarity, that experience for which words will never suffice. Quality is the instinct beyond words, the knowledge beyond doubt, the vision beyond sight. This is the “gut feeling” that some people remember as the thing they stopped listening to to their peril and some as the thing they chose to never stop listening to, usually to great success. Yes, that last bit was meant to be read in a Borat voice.

This is the instinct that is required for any world-beating contender, be it in business, academics, sport, theater, commerce, military, labor, take your pick, allowing as it does a continuation of action that is not random, not reactionary, but proactive, forethought, deliberate, through the spacetime continuum that is life.

This is the instinct that allows strikers to “sniff out” the goal, that allows batsmen to “know where the ball is going to land”, that allows businessmen to make “shrewd”, “market-beating” decisions, that allows actors to turn mistakes into highlights, that allows bands to remain “in tune”, “in sync”, “in the loop”.

To stay “in the zone”, as this state is often called, is to sideline entirely the cognition, even perception, of anything that is not useful to what we are doing at the moment, focusing all cognition and perception to the task at hand, be it football, corporate mergers, elections, exams, or, like in Phil Dunphy’s case, tightrope walking. To chase being in the zone rather than to chase victory and achievement is to remain in pursuit of quality, is to awaken to a world that is dynamic, never static.

Any verbalisation of this experience is but translation, not transcription. Trying to find reason or logic in this experience may prove to be a futile task, and yet the experience remains undeniable, true, real. Like the Ancient Language in the Inheritance Cycle (a highly recommended tetralogy by a barely-legally-able-to-drink Christopher Paolini about dragons, fear, love, the mind, magic, power, notion of self, and more), in which none can lie, and which every being speaks purely by the virtue of being alive, experience of Quality happens regardless of your circumstance and position in life, just by the virtue of being alive, which as a basic necessity requires perception, cognition, and motivation in one form or the other.


Part 2: कविं कवीनाम् उपमश्रवस्तमम् – Ganapati as the Personification of the State of Quality

कवी, or rather कवि, in the word's original form, with the short ‘i’ sound rather than long, comes from the same root form that practically all European languages - as well as Sanskrit itself - use for the state of having questions: क्वि, which is the same as the Latinate qui linguistically. Qui is part of the Latin group of question words beginning with qu, also including quo, qua, and quid, for instance, and which is related via a historical vernacular shift to the wh group of question words of the English language – where, what, when, what have you. 

Linguistically, the word “कवि” is not related to the word “poet” at all, which is nominally given as its translation, but to the common morpheme in questioning words in pretty much all the languages of Eurasia – quo / qua / qui. A कवि, linguistically speaking, is a connoisseur – someone with curiosity. Which, incidentally, is the actual meaning of the word ‘connoisseur’.

A “कवि”, linguistically speaking, is someone who asks the questions, someone who has questions to pursue, on the inside and the outside. A poet is the one with the questioning mindset, the puzzled unpreparedness, the bewildered confrontation that is characteristic of the nameless, definition-free territory of Quality. The words ‘quirky’ and ‘queer’, which both usually indicate human behaviors that seem to harmlessly transcend the boundaries of normality that we are used to, are also notable in this context, coming as they do from the same root word. It is expanding the limits of knowledge, not possessing previously gained knowledge, that the questioning mental state of a poet refers to. A good poem is thus one that expands the limits of our mind, i.e. the limits of our understanding, the limits of our own conception of the world. A good poet, in no uncertain terms, is one – anyone – who is unafraid to go boldly where no man has gone before.


Curiosity and Surrender: Heads, Babies, and Elephants

It is an individual’s curiosity that drives the pursuit of Quality, filtering as it does the unbroken, continuous flow of information from the sensory organs about the world without, through the prism of our personality, to attract our own, personal attention to it. Innately human curiosity, which all healthy infants should display, creates the persistent questions, the seeker mindset, the exploratory urge that drives the creative, the adventurous, and the insane. And, of course, the epitome of all three – babies.

It is this selfless surrender to the questioning drive in their own psyche that made babies Nietzsche’s ideal for the realized, enlightened being who saw no need to prove anything, but only to find out, and then find out more, and then find out some more. A true poet's sensitivity is to this Quality experience, and the deeper the experience goes, the ‘better’ the poetry turns out – in fact, this is in many ways the only real method to determine poetry for the better or for the worse. The nameless, formless language of quality is shaped personally for each individual being by its own life experience, which sets up its own contexts for itself, as well as from congenital individual differences that have had no explanation so far, other than reincarnation, which remains difficult to believe in, if not impossible. This is why poetry – at least good poetry – can sometimes be difficult to understand, originating as it does from a deeply personal concatenation of circumstances and contexts that the reader simply may not possess. It takes a Christian fully steeped in the faith – to the point of acting it out successfully – to truly understand the Bible, just as it takes a spiritual reader to truly understand a good poet, who is necessarily deeply spiritual.


Hindu thought has always seen this spirituality, this selfless surrendering, this constant pursuit of quality, as the highest, most fulfilling, and most rewarding experience that humans can have. The alignment of this culture, this civilization, this society with the formless and nameless that is above the forms and the names is such that it made Ganapati, the god of perception, cognition, and understanding, into its highest deity, and called Him, among other things, कविं कवीनाम्, i.e. the discoverer among discoverers, the problem-solver among problem-solvers, the creator among creators. It is essentially important to read the word within the context of a psycholinguistic system that connects कवि with quality, curiosity, and questioning, not the one that connects it exclusively with rhyme, rhythm, and form.

Ganesha is not the all-knower god, but the all-discoverer god. He is the explorer god. He is the creative mind. He is the Lord of the vijnanamaya and anandamaya koshas, the second and first sheaths of the aatman in yogic philosophy. This refers to the power of the human body-mind to discriminate, to choose, for the better or for the worse, and to discern, from the grossest level to the subtlest.


Discrimination, the Subjective Mind, and the Continuum of Spacetime: A Very Indic Way of Looking at the World

Ganesha, in this way, becomes the embodiment of not just a stored factsheet, not even just the process of knowing itself, but of the fundamental ability to differentiate and to perceive, encapsulated perfectly in the Sanskrit term नीरक्षीरविवेक, which literally means the ability to separate the milk from the water, i.e. to separate the actually valuable from the worthless, the useful from the useless, the applicable from the inapplicable. Once again, we must remember that this doesn’t refer to any static ability that is gained at once and then held on to, but the dynamic ability to keep making a choice as we traverse our life, throughout our life.

Modern self-help philosophy tells its adherents to treat life as a day to day phenomenon. The better among those go so far as to call for living life from minute to minute, or even breath to breath. Lord Ganesha, however, symbolizes the human / animal ability to split the infinite cosmos at all in the first place. He is the often-ignored ‘continuum’ in the term ‘spacetime continuum’ – the one who walks through spacetime on His wish alone, lighting the fire of consciousness and stoking the embers of intellect and intuition wherever he goes.

Despite calling (or agreeing to call) the universe a ‘spacetime continuum’, modern science is strangely averse to considering the significance of the ‘continuum’ part of the phrase, instead steadfastly insisting on treating every single thing in the universe as a separate, cut-out entity. Despite naming reality as a spacetime continuum, modern science is strangely ignorant and uncaring about the mind’s ability to recreate feelings from the past and the future in the form of memory and anticipation, respectively, as well as its ability to stay firmly rooted in the present, lending the wielder such abilities that those who managed this were hailed as divine by people whose minds were not fettered by delusions of objectivity, empiricism, and materialism.

It is the subjective mind alone that can truly traverse the ‘spacetime continuum’, going as it does from place to place, and from time to time, with seemingly no effort or even intention. It is crucial to understand the nature of the mind first, in order to understand how the mind learns and integrates new information, in turn leading to a better or worse progression in the individual’s interaction with the world.


Part 3: The OODA Loop: Staying atop the Wave of Quality

The OODA Loop, tabulated by military strategist, fighter pilot, and aircraft designer John Boyd in the 1960s, presents a codified method to remain aware, alert, and effective on the battlefield. Like all good lessons, the OODA loop is not only useful in the battlefield, but also in corporate boardrooms, where many companies have succeeded by implementing it in their operations, and parallels - extremely closely - yogic methods of remaining disattached even while retaining proximity to the metaphorical battlefield of life. Remember, it is not consumption, contact, or proximity prescribed as the obstacle in yogic science, but attachment.


The OODA Loop stands for Observe. Orient. Decide. Act.

To observe properly is to get the most useful picture of the thing you're interacting with. As far as the life experience of humans is concerned, this means properly refining the sense organs so that they present not only all the information they receive, but information that has been gathered in an accurate, detailed, structured manner.

To orient properly is to, as the saying goes, "pick our battles", i.e. to decide which parts of the picture we want to zoom in on for a better understanding. Popular phrases such as "the grass grows where you water it" indicate the colloquial awareness of the importance of the allocation of attention in the orientation and consequent motivation of an individual. Only with proper allocation of attention can the third step of the OODA loop, Decide, be crossed.

It is only with open-eyed observation and intelligent orientation that the best decision in any given situation can be made. It is here that military strategists and sport tacticians alike make their money: making the best plan for either your team to win, or for the other team to lose. It is in the individual’s appreciation of the battleground before him that his strategy can be found.

That just leaves the tiny matter of acting it out. This is the crucial step that separates the men from the boys, true knowledge from idolatry of the same. This is the reason why "armchair theorization" is looked down upon – coming up with an idea of how to do something, coming up with a plan to do something, and actually doing that something, all three happen to be different things. The first is by far the easiest, the second can be achieved with purely theoretical knowledge by an expert in the field, but it takes a real scientist to take the last step and act out what he has discovered, in the faith that the truth he has discovered will sustain him.


It is this faith and this determination that mark out an explorer, a scout, a hero, someone who expands the borders of a civilization, physically or ideologically. It takes the same faith, confidence, and determination to be an effective military commander as it does to come up with practically usable, unconvoluted, precise mental models of reality as a scientist. Both require their practitioners to stay alert to new developments, subtle developments, as well as the context of the particular event, with equanimity and poise. While militaries implement the OODA loop in the battlefield, teams of scientists, theoretically the defenders and champions of the process of knowing, need to implement the OODA loop mentally.

To stay in line with the OODA loop works out to be the same as it is to stay in tune with the flow of dynamic, pre-definitional Quality, or of an unbroken sequence of quals (individual unit of perception). To stay in an unbroken flow of quality perception, which is the same as to stay in the vernacularly popular "flow state", turns out to be the same as to consciously, with knowledge, make the choice to OODA again and again until it becomes not just a valued habit but your second nature. The OODA loop is useful in any life situation you can think of, and thus valuable as not just a value addition to but the core of one's life. Particularly if you want to call yourself a wo/man of science.

The linear progression of the Observe - Orient - Decide - Act loop essentially defines the experimental method of science, starting from observation, to brainstorming to hypothesis formation, to experiment design, and finally to experimentation, with a "repeat if hypothesis proved false" loop built-in to make the process not just linear, but sequential, i.e. a ‘loop’. The “Act” principle in the OODA loop, when applied to an individual’s life, ensures a “repeat if hypothesis proved false” loop, with proper usage of the other three – OOD – principles expected to result in progressively better results each time the individual acts upon similar obstacles.


Part 4: शरीरमाद्यम् खलु धर्मसाधनम् – How Awareness of Body-Mind Unity Elevates the Individual

It is essential to act not only because you believe you are going to succeed, but because to act is the only way to find out whether or how you could succeed in the first place.

This is the way of life that Nietzsche envisioned for his enlightened souls, whom he called ‘babies’. Babies are famous for being unafraid to do things that would terrify a “grown-up” because everything they do is organic, unhurried, playful. There is no reason to suspect any ulterior motive in a newborn baby’s behavior, and what’s more, nobody does, because the obviousness of the organic nativity of their behavior overpowers all doubt, all reflection. This obvious naturalness of babies is, incidentally, quite fittingly reflected in the Latin-derived modern lexicon for birth, with the same root suffix ‘nat-‘ playing the same role in nature, nativity, and nation (and, incidentally, the extremely related Marathi word nāte - नाते).

This is also the reason why Hindu thought termed Krishna’s whole life as leela, i.e. playful behavior, behavior of play. It is Nietzsche’s enlightened superhuman baby that is evoked in the Bhagawata Purana and the Mahabharata when it tells of how Krishna played and danced and sang his way through his superordinary life. Remedios the Beauty from Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, whose choices made out of her own sense of personal comfort start fashion trends among those who never knew the reason for those changes in the first place, and who one afternoon flies off to heaven while hanging out the laundry to dry with no explanation or forewarning, represents another fitting literary allusion to the nature of man (literally meaning creature of mind, not male human) as a bridge between the material and the amaterial, rather than as a purely material being.

Acting out your philosophy, your intentions, in this properly exploratory manner requires familiarizing yourself with each of your own bodily processes, each of your bodily organs, each of your bodily functions, which lead to your bodily actions, with closeness, reassurance, trust, honesty, and fortitude, so that the coverage of ‘your’ conscious agency goes from the gross to the subtle, to the even subtler, and eventually the subtlest. The subtle drives the gross, always. The rationality for your grossest actions can be found in the subtlest of subtle root causes, emerging as they do from the very real, tangibly existent unity of body and mind, not from two different places as modern science still continues to preach. It is integral to understand and feel your way to the unified nature of body and mind if any pretension of knowledge is to be made.


क्षेत्रक्षेत्रज्ञविभाजन: How the Brahmanic Indics saw Human Materiality

The stronger an edifice is at and near its foundation, the more liberties one can take as one goes progressively higher up. The foundation of a healthy human body-mind is the seamless unity of the material and the immaterial, of the gross and the subtle, of the tangible and the intangible within it. It is not through a proliferation of either one that humanity has become the dominant megafauna on the planet, but precisely through the combined application of the two, leading to strategic, tactical, decisive, planned, effective maneuvering through the world. Whenever might has failed us as a species, we have relied on our intellect to survive and thrive. But where else does our intellect have its home, if not in our own conception of ourself, which is heavily reliant on our sensory perception of the outside world and our relation to it?

After all, a yogi who has discarded all of his bodily functions is said to be in ‘samadhi’; He is no longer of this world, though his body may be in it. In fact, yogic science does not consider the intellect to be an incorporeal phenomenon at all, irremovably tied as it is to the corpus of human beings, i.e. their body.

In being of this world, in carving out a claim in our own name, humanity has had immense success when the reigning philosophical paradigm was that of an immaterial possessor, i.e. the soul or the spirit, being responsible for the welfare and the actions of his material habitation, i.e. the individual body, which Hindu thought saw as being made out of the five great forces of being, the panchamahabhootas, as well as faculties we would today term mental or psychological, such as mind, ego, and intellect. The latter concept is known as देह (deha) in Hindu thought, meaning the body, intellect, ego, and mind, while the former, known as देही (dehi – dehin), means something like “the one with the body”, “the one who has (taken on) a body”. The Bhagawadgeeta, of course, famously refers to these concepts as क्षेत्र and क्षेत्रज्ञ in its thirteenth chapter, the Sanskrit word ‘क्षेत्र’ referring to any empty space that has its own boundaries, including but not limited to the human body.

The distilled message of the thirteenth chapter of the Geeta, titled "Treatise on the Differentiation of the Body from its Wielder" in slightly more poetic Sanskrit terms, refers to the abstract ‘understanding of space’ that more often than not marks out excellence in performance regardless of the vocation of choice. It is the same ‘understanding of space’ referred to in the 13th chapter of the Bhagawadgeeta that allows excellent singers to truly capture an audience with a well-constructed musical edifice, excellent football players to dominate the play and win matches consistently by being in the right place at the right time, excellent engineers to build better, longer-lasting, better-performing constructions by putting everything where it should be, and excellent writers to compose prose that connects not only through the words but through the structure of its composition, building an emotional connection by invoking the fundamentally human ability to perceive space.


This is why ancient Hindu thought, just like its dear sibling ancient Greek thought, places great emphasis upon physical metricity and proportionality even among those who have renounced the world of the senses and have retired to the peaceful solitude of the self. The physical practices of Yoga, which are one of the prominent faces of ancient Hindu thought in today’s world, are aimed not at bolstering the mind, or even strictly at bolstering the body, but rather at strengthening the connection between the mind and the body, at making them better specifically at the job of working together. It is only a better-coordinated smaller fighter who can take on a ‘larger’ fighter and come out victorious, because he is able to handle his own capacity better – more habitually, more intelligently, more effectively – than the larger fighter can handle his own. Krishna’s slaying of Chanura and Kansa speaks to the recurring inference to this concept in Hindu thought, with proportionality in construction and skill and efficiency in the use of available resources always being considered the greater good in Hindu thought over sheer mass or scale. It is in this way that Krishna earns the moniker Yogeshwar (योगेश्वर), meaning lord and master of yoga. 


Hindu thought unabashedly terms physicality as the first duty of he who would be virtuous, as exemplified in the well-known Sanskrit phrase “शरीरमाद्यम् खलु धर्मसाधनम्”, meaning ‘the body is the first instrument of dharma’. While parallelling the popular phrase ‘charity begins at home’, this approach takes the scope for one’s charity to even subtler territory, from the physical house of the individual to the physical house of the individual’s spiritual operator, i.e. the body. Unsurprisingly, this Indic approach to physicality and life mirrors extremely closely that of the Roman Latins, as seen in their enduring maxims like "mens sana in corpore sano", meaning a healthy mind in a healthy body, which the Romans saw as the foundation of individual virtue, honor, success, respect, and achievement. The Ancient Greek philosopher Plato, whose idea of forms strikes very close to the Indic conception of the absolutes of the world, was famously a wrestler and bodybuilder, literally sweating it out in his own gymnasia, or the place to be naked, not only in the physical, bodily sense, but also in the intellectual, mental sense. It was fighting it out with the iron - the pursuit that in many ways has become a prominent face of the men's rights, male community, and men's togetherness movements in modern times - that led Plato to his model of the cave, his plan of Forms, and his Socratic dialog of the charioteer who drives towards the sun, i.e. the Satya Shiva Sundar of Hindu thought, with two horses - one dark and intemperate, representing the passions, or indriyas in Indic thought, and one humble and fair, representing the spark of the infinite, unbound, limitless, in the finite, bound, limited creature that is man. It is this last reference, by the way, that gives this very blog - the Two Wheeled Rambler - its name. Just a passing reference - moving on...


Rocky Balboa and the Art of Taking it on the Chin

The basic craft of all physical exercise – how to do it properly – is to:

1.  Observe our body as it is, which is something many people avoid in the first place due to repressed shame and/or guilt,

2.  Orient it towards the best future fitness depending upon your own present, past, and future circumstances, which is another step many people fail to take due to lack of knowledge and/or self-belief,

3.  Decide the best plan of attack based on your own specific strengths and weaknesses, and

4.  Act out the mapped-out journey from a body that doesn’t fit your purpose to a body that does, with a ‘modify but do not stop regimen if results not obtained’ loop built in to ensure sustainability.

All athletes – from the new guy at the gym all the way up to the giants at the top of professional sports – follow this exact same pattern if they want to exercise in a way that is productive at optimal cost.


But the ulterior motive behind physical exercise is to train the mind, not just the body. This is the attitude that good gym trainers will look to instill in new students, and it was this mindset that allowed Rocky Balboa, a literal nobody, to last the whole distance against the reigning heavyweight champion, the actual victory he celebrates with his love interest Adrian after technically losing the fight on a split decision. Winning the fight against Apollo Creed was not as important to Rocky – he considered himself a goner anyway – as it was to last the whole distance, to stay in the ring till the end, to take it on the chin and stand right back up no matter how hard he was hit. It was his fight against his own weakness, against his own desire to quit the pain and hardships, in the ring and in life, against his own self-doubt, that Rocky Balboa really wanted to win.

Mirroring the fisherman Santiago’s dispassionate disinterest in the skeletal remains of his marlin at the end of Old Man and the Sea, Rocky doesn’t even notice it when the judges declare the split vote declaring himself as having lost the match, nor does he demand a rematch, an outcome that would have been entirely logical considering an absolute nobody had just held the reigning heavyweight champion to a split decision, not a unanimous victory, and definitely not a knockout. In the end, it is Rocky’s will to not get knocked out until the bell rings that prevails, pushing him closer to victory than anyone had thought possible, let alone likely.

It is acting out his determination to believe in himself, his determination to have a himself he could believe in, rather than self-belief per se, that allows Rocky Balboa to last fifteen rounds against Creed, going closer to victory than even he himself thought possible. Despite his scarcity of self-belief, which would have constructed elaborate, detailed explanations for why he couldn’t possibly win the match to soothe his own ego in the event of a knockout or forfeiture, it is his choice to stick with his virile determination, with his gut, with his ‘chin’, rather than his intellect or mind alone, that takes him within a whisker of victory without ever meaning to. Speaking of ‘chin’ being what makes Rocky Balboa a champion, by the way, can anyone think of a Hindu god known for – in fact named for – his prominent ‘chin’? Anyone? Anyone? More on that later.


Had he not fought Creed, Rocky would’ve always believed himself to be a nobody, as everyone else sees him at the start of the movie. He would’ve bowed to his circumstances, to his material hardships, to his lack of certifiable intelligence, never having known the majesty of which he had always been capable. It is not even because he believes in himself but because he wants to believe in himself that he pushes himself into territory he had always believed to be beyond him, inherently and inevitably. In this way, Rocky Balboa becomes not a brainless physical brute but a daring scientist, a true man of the mind, not only obstinate on testing out his hypothesis because he needed the hypothesis to be true on an existential scale, but also brave enough to enter the experiment willingly, intending not to win, but simply to last. It could be said that it was this choiceless desperation that made Rocky Balboa’s hypothesis come true, in a way that modern science could never predict or even explain, when every ‘logical’ prediction stated there was no chance a rookie would even last two rounds against the reigning heavyweight champion. Perhaps this is what Schroedinger’s famous cat experiment was actually meant to convey – not the shifting, uncertain reality of an unobserved phenomenon, but the concrete reality of a phenomenon that is observed, willingly and doggedly.

Individual knowledge thus gained from acting out the theory that sustained it is never, can never be decided by consensus. Knowledge thus gained is necessarily personal.


Part 5: The Misguided Effort of Modern Science to Materialize Anything and Everything

Science, thus properly personalized, never works on consensus. It cannot work on consensus. What does work on consensus, however, is belief. It is not science if it works on consensus. It's superstition. It's wishful thinking. It's a religion without an establishment in truth.

I've always had this bugbear with the way the modern science industry works:

The modern “rational method”, the "scientific method", emerged in contrast to religious paradigms, which, while often harmful and tyrannical and deceitful, maintained the position of "truthgiver" in the mob's mind because they could point to (supposedly) unchanging notions as the basis of their own supremacy and the social order they brought about, relying on the mob's gullibility to maintain the order they wanted to maintain.

Modern, post-Enlightenment science, in contrast, has always prided itself on being ever-changing, ever-refreshed. It was the ability of science to adapt to new information, we were told, that made it more reliable than religion in terms of truth-finding. However, the newfound authority of "science" following the murder of God (ref. Nietzsche) around the 17th and 18th centuries meant that every new development in science has been treated - had to be treated - as absolute truth in terms of its relevance to the day to day lives of the plebs of science – those who Do Not Know. Modern science still remains stuck in this contradiction of being forced to claim every new advancement, and thus every new self-contradiction, as vindication of the strength of modern science and of what was lacking from the derelict vestiges of the old religions it replaced as truthgiver– the ability to change its mind when presented with new information.

It is, of course, the mark of an intelligent man to bow before reality when his opinion happens to contradict with it, but an overwhelming majority of scientists, particularly in the pre-modern era, did not see their expansion of human knowledge as being in any way antagonistic to the way people lived their inner spiritual lives, which was most often on the basis of one or another religion. Science, in this era, had no ambitions of becoming a ‘way of life’, let alone a way of life that was set on cutting the branches of culture and religion on which it sat so comfortably at a time when the world was still fairly new and things were still being found and named. The constancy of religion comprised the perfect rock for people upon which to build the churches of their lives, edifices of actions lived according to a shared, honorable code in confusing, shifting times.


The Robespierre-esque, Reign of Terror-esque hatred of anything that predated the revolution and had the potential to dilute the percolation of the new values of the republic into the masses didn’t enter the courts of science until well into the 20th century, a time when, as mentioned in my previous piece, empires were unprecedentedly turning into nation states ruled by the people rather than by god and king, consumeristic capitalism was fast becoming the norm, and the world was looking to rise anew from what were seen as the ashes of a horror of years gone by: War.

The agency and intentions in the social changes that took place in this period are hard to judge, with both constructive rebuilders as well as narcissistic deconstructors sensing an opportunity to make gains in an empty field. What is undeniable, however, is that the definition of science that entered the second half of the twentieth century was unlike any the world had ever seen, rooted as it was in a rejection of the subjective rationality of the older religions (which had been shaped by life rather than aimed at shaping life) and aimed at improving not the inner lives of the constituent individuals of a society, but material abundance for consumers of legal individuals with no roots.

What was being manifested in the world of money as consumerism was being manifested as nihilism, selfishness, and a shrinking of the spirit in the inner lives of the citizens of the newly founded republics. With democracy came a collectivization of the truth, reflected in the founding of the modern peer review process in ‘science’ in the mid-1970s.

The truth was no longer individual, no longer a matter between oneself and one’s inner perception of Quality, reflected in the various and different deities worshipped in various places all over the world, but a matter of collective uniformity, reflected in its insistence upon consensus as the marker of verity rather than concordance with reality. It was suddenly “important” for all the peoples of the world to share one way of living, and more importantly, one way of thinking - an attitude that was being universally denounced as 'colonialism' at the same time as when modern science was adopting it as its anthem, constitution, and penal code.


In creating a new world “free from the oppression of religion”, modern scientific thinking has helped remove "good" and "evil" from our dictionary, because there is (allegedly) no basis for these terms that exceeds individual perception, which modern science doesn’t accept as credible evidence regardless of whether or not it accords with reality. By cutting off the branches of subjectivity that sustained it in the first place, modern science has cut off all routes to the Quality perception that gave humanity both its purpose and its meaning. The results are there to see for all in the world we live in right now.


In Sapiens, Yuval Noah Harari argues that money, religion, etc. are useful fictions that hold human society together in spite of their lack of absolute concordance with reality. Modern science has become nothing more than such a useful fiction today, and it's useful to the same people for whom the stability enforced by religious ideals, even more than religious institutions, was useful in the pre-enlightenment days: The landlords, the moneylenders, the ‘ruling classes’. Capitalists or political leaders in current times can tack on "scientists say" or "studies show" to pretty much anything they want to put out into the world, and in a democratic society, there will always be a critical mass of people who will believe it because they have been taught nothing more than to respect authority by their society, and nothing more than to respect the findings of science rather than the process of science by their schools.

Science hasn't replaced religion as the truthgiver of our times at all. We are no closer to discovering the fundamentals of reality / existence with materialistic modern science than we were with spiritualistic old religion. In fact we were way closer with religion, a fact easily apparent once the religions are understood within their own context rather than in the enforced universal context of the modern scientific mindset, which demands guarantees before starting a journey rather than the faith to start journeys that have no known ending point but present themselves to you nevertheless.

Modern science has only replaced religion as the primary way to enforce mass belief in the social order desired by the ruling classes. It has only replaced religion as the preferred sleight of hand. The magic trick is still very much a magic trick, and what's more – it is still very much the same magic trick that it was five hundred years ago.

Scientific understanding is supposed to change with new information. The thing about that sentence that modern science seems to have forgotten is that you can remove the word "scientific" from there and the sentence works just fine, even better in some sense. There is no obligation on understanding to be material, empirical, or even rational. In what is quickly and rather unexpectedly becoming a theme with the WWotW words, the original meaning of "sciencia", what it connoted, was the state of discovery, the process of finding out itself, rather than the passively stored body of knowledge hunted and gathered by humans using that process. This state, this process, goes beyond the known world of terminologies into the heavily foggy land of dreaming, feeling, emotions, reflex actions, nightmares, and motivations. 


Part 6: गणानां त्वां गणपतिं हवामहे – Follow the Feeling, Not the Thought

The word ‘Ganapati’ breaks down linguistically to mean ‘the protector / commander / leader of the ganas’. There is a mythological aspect to this description, which shows us a physical, supposedly empirically verifiable being that lives on Mt. Kailash and sorts out the world’s problems while riding a mouse. But there is also the other side, the aspect that relates the mythos of Hinduism to its ethos by equating the world with the worldview of the individual body-mind that sees it, and denotes Ganapati as a human, biological, neurological principle that resides within an individual body, sprouts life from the muladhar, where He eternally resides, and acts as the leader and commander of the various parts of the body, aiming forever for optimization and sustainable thriving.


The Ganapati Atharvashirsha makes this formulation explicit, stating that the world arises from Ganapati, stays with/in Ganapati, is destroyed by Ganapati, and is ‘brought back to life’ through Ganapati alone, who literally resides in the tangibly real muladhar chakra of the individual human body-mind and who came into being before Purusha his father and Prakriti his mother. It is important to remember that within the context of Hindu thought, ‘the world’ refers to both the physical world all around us and the mental world that each of us inhabits in our own unique, specific way. Hinduism sees the individual body-mind as merely a microcosm of the universe, not any entity that is in any way distinct from the same – a major way in which modern science differs from ancient science. As far as Hindu thought is concerned, the world begins with our biological Ganapati principle perceiving it, not with the big bang or anything similar, because for the people that sustained this philosophy and the prosperous culture that supported it, accepting that ‘the world’ and ‘I’ are never seen without each other, was not a contradiction to cover up, but a blissful affirmation of their own discovery of the unity of the body and mind, and of the individual and all that there is.


The ganas whom Ganapati leads, controls, and monitors, are the individual constituent parts of not a literal army of a blue-throated humanoid Shiva, but the literal army of constituent parts that make up an individual’s body, ruled and governed by the principle of exploration, the principle of discovery, the principle of play, the principle of growth enabled by the acquisition of new knowledge, standing on the shoulders of the fundamental principles of homeostasis and well-being, which can be said to be the principles of Shiva, the extremely static, extremely lonesome, extremely disinterested hermetic householder, i.e. world-holder. The principle, in short, of sciencia. Of science.

In this aspect, the Ganapati principle refers to the physio-psychological capacity within the human body-mind to gain awareness of our own body parts, individually as well as how they correlate with each other, not through any external imaging or diagnostics, but through the same internal feeling that tells us when we are hungry, thirsty, sleepy, in pain, happy, and everything else that feelings tell us.

 

Regardless of what we have studied in school, what we have learned in life, and what our ‘qualifications’ are, we do not need anyone else to tell us when we are hungry or in pain, nor is it believable when someone else tells us these things about ourselves. The knowledge that will be most useful in surviving, thriving, and becoming more of who we are at our core – including hunger, sleep, thirst, feelings, dreams, desires, aspirations, motivations, goals, as well as the creative ideas to achieve them – comes from this intangible, invisible feeling, which can only be perceived and verified subjectively, a word that has tragically become taboo in modern science and the cultural mindset that has emerged from its position as the truthgiver of our times.

Our scholastic achievements, our professional careers, our ability to succeed on a day to day basis in the world that we have been given, depend entirely upon what we really – really – want to do with the time that has been given to us. As mentioned before, the quals that attract our attention are detected only by a corresponding quality drive within the individual, which makes someone really, biologically, evolutionarily happy only when they are doing some specific activity. Often relegated to the sidelines for ‘not being commercially viable’ in the ‘practical reality of day to day life’, it is this quality drive that determines an individual’s interests – literally meaning ‘the things one would like to interact with, would like to mingle with, a longing to belong (with it), a mutual attraction’.


In many ways, these specific things can be seen as an evolutionary calling, a biological roadmap, further shaped by the troughs and crests of experiences and contexts of the individual body-mind, providing that individual body-mind with purpose and meaning so dense, so streamlined, so filling, that, if allowed to, it starts to generate its own gravity, attracting others attentive to the same quality perception to modify their own behaviors, starting ‘trends’ at smaller scales and groundbreaking revolutions at larger ones. Anything good in a society can only be preserved by individual people with first-person association with the mythos and ethos of the society in the context of contemporaneous reality standing up for what they truly believe in, on a behavioral level, in the spirit of true inquiry, exploration, and discovery, not in the spirit of proving something to be right or wrong. To be this, takes closely aligning with who we are at our core, products as we are of the same world that created us and thus unlikely to perish due to basic unfamiliarity. It is crucial to remember that we are not alien to the earth. We are native to the earth. Of the earth. 

Our body-mind knows this already, on a spiritual level. This truth has been propounded by every saint, noted or otherwise, in the Hindu tradition, as well as by a long line of darshaniks (unravelers, ‘those who show’ in the literal sense – quite possibly followed by “… don’t tell” in the original connotation) from various philosophical factions, including Sri Raman, Osho, Nisargadatta Maharaj, Ramakrishna Paramhans, Neem Karoli Baba, Sai Baba, and any other who’s worth his salt. Corroboration by consensus, ironic in the case of modern science, fits the paradigm of these time-tested ways of looking at the world perfectly, relying as they do on the lived experiences of people, the strength and depth of their perception, and a mutual reliance on self-awareness, which is the timeless ruling principle that has sustained societies, civilizations, cultures throughout the history of humanity on this planet, and remained an integral part of not just society but of institutional science until being eradicated well into the 20th century by the rot of materialism and the ironic, inappropriate reliance on peer review, as mentioned previously. 

Hindu thought consecrates this unity of body and mind into the very building blocks of the personification of its highest ideals, which are its deities. Ardhanarinateshwar, the half-man, half-woman form of Shiva and Shakti, represents a balancing of the material and the immaterial, the dynamic and the static, the bright and the dark, the eternal and the ever-changing, not just in ‘the world’, but within individual body-minds. However, the conceptualization of body-mind unity in Hindu thought truly rises to its peak in the form of the wise warrior Maruti and the remover of obstacles Gajanana, or Ganapati.


Part 7: Jitendriya and Vighneshwar : How Hanuman and Ganapati Illustrate the Way to Know

One of the most important nomenclatures of the son-of-the-wind Maruti is Jitendriya (जितेंद्रिय), meaning one who has won (over) the indriyas – a word which has many meanings in the sanskrit language revolving around a common theme: Sensory organs, mental ‘factors’, ‘objects of valid knowledge’ according to the Nyaya school, ‘controlling faculties’ according to certain lineages of Buddhism, and sensory and motor faculties according to some others. In short, they are, according to all sources each in their own way, the primary means of perceiving, knowing about, and interacting with the world for us humans.

Jitendriya is one who has won over, who has total control over, who is owed obeisance by his own indriyas, i.e. his own worldview, the character of his perception, and the depth and nature of his cognition. One who holds in his own fist the way he looks at the world has no want for power – in both senses of the phrase.


It is this self-mastery that is revered above all in the worship of Hanuman, even more than his impressive physical and mental capacity. It is this self-mastery that is supposed to be imbibed by the gymgoers who ‘worship’ Hanuman, not just the well-built body. It is the ability to look beyond the bodybuilder Hanuman and to see his uncomplicated inner solidarity that brings about the change that iron wants to bring about in bodybuilders. It is this self-mastery that makes man out of monsters, and the lack of it that makes monsters out of man. More than any other attribute of Maruti, it is his ‘chin’, his ability to take the blows of life without flinching, which gives him the name Hanuman / Hanumant, and which Rocky Balboa turns into his sole fighting card against world heavyweight champion Apollo Creed, that gymgoers should imbibe from the divine form of Hanuman. Be someone who can dish it out, by all means, but never forget to work out your ability to take it on your chin.

Brought about by his meeting with Rama, which turned out to be a happy accident for all parties involved, Hanuman’s realization of his own power – not the conquest of someone else’s power but his own recollection of his own forgotten powers, remember; it is crucial to remember that personal growth is not a zero sum game – leads to such self-mastery, such self-control, such self-actualization that he gains the power, might, and virility to fertilize an animal of a different species from a drop of sweat that accidentally drops into the sea as he is flying over it. This drop, incidentally, carries such potential that it births Makardhwaj, a crocodilian ape whom Ahiravan, the mightily capable lord of the underworld, sees fit to become the sentry to hell itself. Whether you see the narrative literally or figuratively, the lesson is not hard to miss.


Bihemispherical excellence may be a new concept to Europeans, but Hindus have been well-versed in it since the days of talking apes and flying chariots. Hanuman and Ganapati are both examples of what can happen when an individual integrates both halves of his personality, much as Carl Jung talked of integrating the shadow, mere millennia after Hindu thought elaborated pretty much the exact same concept in the form of not ‘scientific fact’, but ‘religious idol worship’.

In addition to being frighteningly strong, Hanuman is also said to be the highest among the intelligent (बुद्धिमतां वरिष्ठम्), as per Hindu scriptures. In addition to being smart and capable, he is also the exemplar of devotion, the ideal devotee. Even more than being Lord Ram's military general, he is his humble servant. He is not only well-trained in the martial arts, but is also a singer and poet par excellence. He is not drunk on his magnificent power, but perfectly in control of his physical body (जितेंद्रिय). He is eager not just to lay enemies to waste for Ram, but also to praise and glorify Ram through emotive, evocative, devotion-filled keertan (religious singing). He is not just a destroyer of evil, but also an able upholder of the good. He has not only placed Ram on his shoulders, but installed Him in his heart of hearts. Rama, for Hanuman, is not a mere worldly concern; He is the core of his very being.

Exactly the opposite fate has befallen Ganapati. While the famous elephant-headed god is, in actuality, the commander of Shiva's diverse and fierce forces and son of the war-goddess Chandi (a manifestation of Parvati) herself, we are loath to look past his pleasing, erudite, sophisticated persona as the god of the arts and sciences. He is not just the remover of peril (विघ्नहर्ता), but the knower and master of peril (विघ्नेश्वर). He doesn't just keep his devotees safe from danger, but enables them to see the peril for what it is, to understand its nature, and to derive useful lessons for future progress from it. In this way, he is a willing and able safeguard against chaos and peril, which is inevitable, not the idle, languid, almost Bohemian dreamer and artist that we have made him out to be.


Speaking in the biological sense, it may well be that the bhootaganas of Shiva – who, remember, is described in various places as the timeless slayer of evil, the eternal, the god among gods, the fearsome destroyer capable of destroying the whole world, and the one who holds the embodiment of toxicity itself in his throat to protect the rest from it – refer to the agents of immunity, a congenital autonomous phenomenon that continues to baffle modern medicine despite literal centuries of trying to figure it out, with the Ganapati principle playing the elusive role that hope, belief, determination, recall, emotion, longing, and other psychological factors have been observed to play in recovery regardless of the extremity of the peril and the hopelessness of contemporaneous medical science in situ. Doctors may ‘marvel’ at a ‘hopeless’ patient making a ‘miraculous’ recovery, but why it happens often remains a mystery even to the battling vanguard of medical science, who are categorically denied entry to the annals of religion and spirituality so that they may not defile themselves with the stench of subjectivity, irrational knowledge, and unprovable ideas. Smart doctors should have also spotted that Ganapati's role as the bulwark against the inevitable chaos of life, as the principle that allows "the world" to learn from the chaos instead of succumbing to it, is more than slightly reminiscent of the ability of the human immune system to build up an immunological memory, which is used at an uncomfortably fundamental level in modern medicine in the form of vaccines.


Along with the modak, a symbol of a clear, open, enthusiastic mind, Ganapati also holds his battle axe in his hands, showing his battle-preparedness and alertness even when, as the phrase goes, ‘things are good’. There is a thin line, usually somewhere around the third pint, that shouldn’t be crossed no matter how enjoyable we may consider the experience to be. Ganapati is that twinge of guilt, that twinge of conscience, that can stop even seasoned drinkers when their priorities are well-adjusted and aligned with the mental and physical world that they inhabit. While one of Ganapati’s hands is raised in the abhay mudra (the stance of fearlessness), granting courage to his devotees, another holds the ankusha, the peg, which stops the errant mind from wandering off into the inutile, unwholesome reaches of human consciousness. A more complete picture of Jungian exploration into one’s own mind will be hard to find.

Similarly, the mighty, all-powerful arms of Hanuman are forever prostrated before the majesty of Lord Rama. The tumult of Rama's righteous war and the melody of the soulful praise of Rama are equally pleasing to this great lord of simians. This is the Great Man, the पुरुषोत्तम, that societies have revered throughout our own very short history on this planet; from Gilgamesh to Shiva, from Jesus to George Washington, it has always been the pacifist warrior, the intelligent warrior, the one who chose not to start every fight he knew he would win and who chose to win every fight that came to him regardless, that has attracted attention, reverence, even obedience from people who sensed from an evolutionary, genetic perspective, which is often the source of unshakeable intuition, that what this guy was doing was the right thing to do, without being told so by anyone, least of all himself.


Part 8: Accordance with Reality: The Distinguishing Mark of Good Science

To know for sure, it is critical to align your theories, your experimentation, and your results with the reality that is, the reality that has always been, and the one that will always be.

It’s no use for your results to align with your hypotheses if the latter are not based on a solid understanding of how the world does and should work.

Morality and ethics is one field where modern science has barely attempted to even scratch the surface, instead contenting itself with the role of ‘knowledge-giver’ in an objective, third-party sense. But this refusal to engage in ethics reveals at once the weakness and the abuse of science in the 20th and increasingly the 21st century.

If ‘knowledge’ gained from ‘science’ is not going to have – is not supposed to have – any utility in living a more meaningful life, then what use is that information, not just to ‘the common peasant who doesn’t understand it’ but even to the ivory-tower graduates who allegedly do understand it?

Possibly through not its own fault, but indubitably nevertheless, modern science does occupy a pretty important role as the truthgiver, the lawmaker, the fundamental principle of discrimination of our time, with ‘scientific backing’ being sought for even spiritual practices and products that explicitly come from a zeitgeist with more than one principle to work with.


For science to be good science, it has to work in situ, in vivo as the ancient religions not only did but were supposed to work even in theory, not just in vitro. It is in the dead and pathetically reanimated in-vitro nature of modern science that the roots of the malaise of modern society, and of modern science, lie. It would be too cruel to the nerds to end this piece by saying ‘touch some grass, geek boys!’, so instead I’ll end it by reminding you all that the way in which I have gone about describing science, or ‘knowing’, in the piece above, as well as my concluding insistence upon the incompleteness of modern science as it continues to ignore ethos while creating a mythos that, intentionally or not, sucks the light out of society, is nothing new.


The understanding that understanding can only be truly complete if it aligns with reality at every level was the discovery of animistic faiths from so long back in time that even their echoes need to be refreshed now and then just to maintain some memory of their halcyon days. The Sanskrit word for knowledge, विज्ञान, which essentially became the modern Hindi word for knowledge, विग्यान, is the same as the German word for it, Wissen, with one specific, historically recorded linguistic shift responsible for the difference in spelling, and also goes hand in hand linguistically with the ancient Greek word for it, Gnosis. The ancient Indians, the ancient Norse and Germanic tribes, and the ancient Greeks were all seamlessly formed in a worldview that saw ‘the one who sees’ and ‘the one who is seen’ as not distinct, but united, not separate, but one, at some level of life awareness, i.e. vital consciousness. The Latinate Romans, of course, were the ones who came up with the words ‘science’, ‘conscious’, and ‘conscience’, meaning ‘knowing’, ‘with knowledge’, and ‘common knowledge’ or ‘shared knowledge’, showing their alignment with the worldview that knowledge is incomplete if it refuses to take into account the spirituality of man, which is as inherent to him as modern science considers his materiality to be.

It is also interesting linguistically to consider the proximity of the German word for science, Wissen, with the Germanically derived modern English word Wise, a sentiment echoed in the proximity of the Sanskrit word सूज्ञ (soodnya, meaning something on the lines of ‘the one with good knowledge’) with the root word for knowledge, ज्ञ – one who knows, and ज्ञान – knowledge. This speaks to a common instinct among the ancients to consider knowledge in the same vein as wisdom, with knowledge that had no beneficial practical applicability to sustained thriving of the society being considered less significant, less important to possess. This instinct is, of course, not only lacking but proactively rejected in modern science, just one of the many ways in which it fails to make the lives of the humanity it informs meaningful with the information it provides.


It is not by feeding just the material, nor by feeding just the spiritual, but by feeding both proportionately that the individual man can go beyond, can overcome – not in the context of any particular obstacle but as a general outlook on life – which is the sense in which Nietzsche used his famous term Übermensch, or ‘the man who would go beyond’. It is this attitude, this approach to life that has fed the best of humanity throughout time and throughout space, including all the 'advancement' in knowledge and material prosperity that modern scientific principles, i.e. modern science, have brought about, amidst all else. It is also worthwhile to note that Hindu faith continually alludes to this very behavioral tendency in the character of Hanumana, starting right after his birth, where he went straight for the sun, confusing it for a ripe luscious mango, overcoming boundaries that were not supposed to be overcome, to the time he jumps the sea to reach Lanka the first time, to when he adapts infinitely to the various and multiple ploys of the cunning and capable Ahiravana, to when he reveals to a stunned Ayodhya court that he holds his idol Seetaram, truly in his heart, the core of his very being. It is for this reason that 17th century Hindu saint Samarth Ramdas, an ardent actualizer (उपासक) of Hanuman, described the central principle of the character as "वाढिता वाढिता वाढे", i.e. the one who grows even while he grows. It is a Nietzschean Übermensch indeed who serves the highest ideals of Hinduism. Coming from the same root form as the Sanskrit and Latin words for ‘mind’, the word ‘man’ – referring to the entirety of humanity rather than just its male gender – itself carries within it a snug little seed of the awareness of the unity of mentality and materiality that makes man a special beast. 

It makes man the beast with knowledge. The beast who would become God.

The beast who would go beyond.




Having dived deep into the fundamentals of rationality this week, next week we will take a look at a word denoting a concept that is supposedly diametrically opposed to rationality: Love.


© Tanmay Viraj Tikekar

04/06/2025

tikekar.tanmay@gmail.com

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Wordilicious Word of the Week #2: Comfort

 

Comfort – Com + Fort – to fight together / to strengthen together / to replenish together.

The word comfort comes from the late 13th century, meaning "to cheer up, console, soothe when in grief or trouble", from the Old French 'conforter', meaning "to solace; to help, strengthen," further from the Late Latin 'confortare', meaning "to strengthen, to replenish, to restock". The word's etymology shows the clear trend forming the thesis of this piece, i.e. the change in the meaning of 'comfort' through the changes in ages, empires, dictats, religions, literature, cinema, thought, sociality, and ideology, straight from Rome, as is the way today with online transactions, to home. 

In the word's original sense, to comfort someone is to help someone prepare for war. Rather, to be more precise, it is to help someone stay prepared for war. The urgency of the war in the perceived meaning of the word cannot be emphasized enough, coming as it does from times before global governments, global trade, and global cooperation. The word ‘comfort’ comes from times when unelected gods Jupiter, Minerva, Poseidon, and Hades were the rulers of the world at large, rather than the unelected modern gods in the United Nations and the World Economic Forum. It comes from a time when war was the norm, not the aberration. It comes from a time when heads rolled frequently, almost casually, when the idea of the ruled masses having a say in government was revolutionary, and when the color purple was worth more than gold because of the relative difficulty in obtaining it.

To comfort someone is not to allay their fears or to solve their problems for them. To comfort means to fight, or at least prepare for / stay prepared for battle, along with someone. Literally, it is closer to the latter definition, i.e. to prepare someone else for their own battle, with the ‘preparer’ playing a minimal if any role in the preparee’s own battle.

It is a truth well-known to lovers and students of life that the hardest battles to fight are always personal, private, intensely individual, i.e. within, with, and against ourselves. As a purely uninvolved agent, someone who comforts may play no role at all in the ensuing battle, but may watch on as an interested party, having primed the individual to fight their own battles. It is often in this way that the word ‘comfort’ peaks in terms of significance to the human mind, with spouses, teachers, and elders very often playing the important but unseen role of coaxing, willing, and driving their loved one to victory and glory in their own battles.

Krishna’s role in the Mahabharata war instantly comes to mind in this context to anyone even mildly familiar with the mythos of Hinduism.

Table of Contents: 
Chapter 1: I Am All Aquiver, My Tongue is Parched, Neither Can I Stand, Nor Can I Understand – the Disillusionment of Arjuna
Chapter 2: Boulders, Fishes, Lions, and Babies: What Camus, Hemingway, and Nietzsche Had to Say on Comfort
Chapter 3: We the People: The Difference Between Habituation and Comfort
Chapter 4: The Comfort of the Creative and the Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck
Chapter 5: आराम: कल्पवृक्षाणाम् विराम: सकलापदाम् - Rama as Comfort Personified
Chapter 6: The Materialistic Vestiges of “Comfort” and the Dying Tradition of Getting on With It


Chapter 1: “I Am All Aquiver, My Tongue is Parched, Neither Can I Stand, Nor Can I Understand” – The Disillusionment of Arjuna

Parthasarathi (Charioteer of Parth, or Arjun) Krishna is one of the most popular depictions of Lord Krishna, with the divine king holding the reins of Pandava prince Arjuna’s chariot in his hands during the Mahabharata war, rather than a weapon. Arjuna’s reverential dependence upon Krishna, and his acknowledgment of Krishna’s importance even when unarmed, shows the comfort he intelligently draws from Krishna’s mere presence, a trait his quantitatively minded rival Duryodhana doesn’t share.

The Mahabharata constantly makes reference to the conflict between the qualitative mindedness of the Pandavas as well as many of the Kauravas’ reluctant allies such as Bhishma, Drona, and Kripa, and the quantitative mindset of the chief Kaurava, Duryodhana. The importance of quality over quantity is emphasized repeatedly through the book, not least in the episode when Arjuna initially chooses Krishna as his charioteer rather than choosing to integrate the mighty Yadava armies into the alliance of Pandava forces.

Before the Mahabharata war, Arjuna and Duryodhana come to Krishna’s palace, seeking to gain a valuable ally, with Krishna holding deep familial and political ties with both sides. However, repeating the motif from an earlier episode of the story – where the young Kuru prince Arjuna states that he saw “nothing but the parrot’s eye” when instructed by his guru to target the parrot’s eye – Arjuna has come to seek Krishna himself, while Duryodhana sees Krishna as merely a means to secure the acquisition of the formidable Yadav armies.

Thus sought head-on by the two rivals in the upcoming great war, Krishna offers to split himself, so to speak, claiming that his ties to both sides compel him to not hurt either. Offered a choice between Krishna himself, unarmed, and the entirety of the might of the Yadavas except for Krishna himself, Arjuna goes for the one lion, while Duryodhana contents himself with millions of sheep.

Arjuna exhibits the extent of his devotion to Krishna even further during the dialog of the Bhagawadgeeta, prostrating himself before Krishna with the words,

शिष्यस्तेहं शाधि मां त्वां प्रपन्नं  | (I am your disciple, deal with me as you will)

While Duryodhana sought comfort in “राज्यं भोगाः सुखानि ” (power, indulgences, and pleasures), it is Arjuna who thinks it madness to kill one’s own relatives. It is in this moment that Krishna most impressively justifies Arjuna’s faith in him, first calming him down from what could properly be considered a ‘panic attack’ in modern terms, and then explaining to Arjuna that while personal interpersonal bonds are crucial as a social being, true wisdom comes from doing what is the right thing at the time the question is asked, regardless of ties or affiliations.

It is in this manner that Krishna becomes the epitome of comfort – the rock that you stand on, not the sword that you swing, and especially not the pleasures and indulgences that, at best, allow you to forget your sorrow for a short while. Krishna, the sole unarmed king in the battle to decide everything, the one holding not a sword, not a mace, nor a bow, but the reigns, provides the most comfort to those around him. Lest we forget, he also leads his side to victory, along with Yudhishthira - steady in war - and Bhimasen - the frightening one.


Chapter 2: Boulders, Fishes, Lions, and Babies: What Camus, Hemingway, and Nietzsche Had to Say on Comfort

Choosing to keep fighting instead of giving up, as a first, basic, original choice upon which to base everything else in your life, is probably where modern culture differs most greatly from the time when ‘comfort’, ‘companion’, and many other such words were formed. The philosophy of the late 1800s and early 1900s bears out this philosophical shift, which, driven by the end of imperialism, the “death of god”, according to Nietzsche, and the rise of consumer-centric capitalism, was happening most urgently during this period.

Albert Camus, in his ardently explorative Myth of Sisyphus, compares the human condition to the punishment of Sisyphus, claiming that, given the nature of Sisyphus’s – and figuratively humanity’s – crime against the gods, man should find contentment in becoming aware of the seeming absurdity of day to day life and fighting with it nevertheless. Despite the futility of his toil and the inevitability of his punishment, Camus writes, Sisyphus can take comfort from his effort of lifting the boulder to the top every single time. This effort alone, Camus writes, should be enough to fill a man's heart. Fighting against the absurd is the fundamental choice that Camus's hero makes, rather than unsuccessfully trying to forget about its existence or ending one’s life due to being overwhelmed by it. It is in this way that Camus’s absurdist philosophy mirrors that of Friedrich Nietzsche, who spoke of the utility of seeing your life as an eternal recurrence, when he wasn't speaking of men who went beyond, lions who roared, and the truly eternal sunshine of the spotless minds of babies.


The Untamable La Mar and Santiago's Karmayoga

Ernest Hemingway’s classic The Old Man and the Sea, released in 1952, just as the modern Liberal era was getting started, can be considered as the great final rallying cry of Nietzsche and Camus’s philosophies. The Old Man and the Sea brings Camus and Nietzsche’s abstract reasoning, search for fundamental suppositions, and coherence between mythos and ethos into the cold, hard world of the Caribbean Sea, fishing lines, tornado seasons, tides, sunsets, and shark oil, as only Ernest Miller Hemingway could have.

It is simplicity itself to see Santiago, the fisherman in The Old Man and the Sea, as an exemplar of Karmayoga – the path of enlightened action, just as it is easy to see the connection of the Bhagawadgeeta’s central philosophy with Camus’s Sisyphus and Nietzsche’s Ubermensch.


Santiago fishes because he is a fisherman. The apparent tautology in this statement is brought to a resolution with the understanding that Santiago is not fishing to survive, is not fishing as just one of many ways he could have made enough money to survive, but has chosen to look at fishing as a way of life, as a means to get far in terms of who he is, to get far in terms of becoming himself. It is the often-invisible 360-degree trip that Santiago has made around the profession of fishing, with the aid of his humility, loyalty, and discipline, that allows him to fish “because he is a fisherman”. In terms of the popular bell curve graph meme, Santiago lies on the extreme right end of the graph, having discarded his romantic notions about fishing as well as his frustration and annoyance with the day to day life of a fisherman, emerging on the other side as a clean, bright soul steeped in the terminology, behaviors, and habits, i.e. the profession, of a fisherman.

His profession has become his vocation, his raison d'etre, and thus his comfort, in the true, literal sense of the word. It is what he will fight for, i.e. what he will fight to be able to do. The anecdote about Santiago’s arm-wrestling bout with “the great negro from Cienfuegos” also bears out Santiago’s comfort in being who he is and doing what he does, as rather than winning a few more arm-wrestling games after his initial victory, and making more money out of it, he decides that his prowess at ‘the hand game’, as Hemingway calls it, could spell danger for his life as a fisherman, and stops playing it with the experiential knowledge that he could beat anyone at it if he really tried, but that he had no reason to do so.

Even though others see him in a new light after the match, and call him ‘el campion’, it makes no difference to him, just as it made no difference to him when he knew, after several hours of a brutal stalemate, that he was going to win this match because he had figured out his opponent’s way and his opponent had lost his self-belief after failing to down his hand. He simply perceives it as a fact of life, and not as any personal validation, since it is his life as a fisherman that gives him the most meaning, and thus the most comfort, not an isolated run of victories at ‘the hand game’.


His comfort is earned, not granted. His comfort, in the true sense of the word, is with him throughout the struggle, is acted out throughout the struggle. In fact, the harder the sea tries to keep him down, the deeper the marlin goes, the faster he swims, the more he lashes out at the painful claw that Santiago has sunk into him, the more Santiago draws on his true comfort – his own pride at his own self-identity, formed by his intense, immense knowledge of the ways of fishing. I am talking, of course, about behavioral knowledge built around the real-life end goal of making the catch, not theoretical knowledge built around the real-life goal of selling the catch for a good price. Despite the thirst, and hunger, and the fishing ropes scraping his skin and cramping his limbs, and the impossibility of restorative sleep, this stoic hero's belief lies not in what is around him, but in who he is at his core. He is a fisherman and he must do all these things to remain a fisherman, which is to say, to remain who he is, which is his one true comfort.

Camus’s Sisyphus makes an unmissable appearance right at the start of The Old Man and the Sea, in the fact that Santiago has gone eighty-four days without making a catch, others are worried about him, and yet others are even beginning to laugh and titter behind his back. But none of this makes any difference to Santiago, who thinks of things he should have done, but then remembers and acts out the need to act with what is available right now, right here. It is not in the profitable selling of his catch that Santiago finds comfort, but rather in the struggle to make the catch in the first place, a sentiment excellently borne out by the last part of the book. It is this self-created cocoon of comfort that allows him to weather the eighty-four days, his subsequent catch of the marlin, and its eventual devouring by the sharks, with equanimity.


Suicide is the Only Real Philosophical Problem

Hemingway's own life is the perfect, pithy definition of the original sense of the word 'comfort'. He hunted lions, he summited peaks, he served in America's medical corps in the first world war, he reported on the Spanish civil war, and later wrote the memorable For Whom the Bell Tolls upon the basis of his time there. Nobody had forced him to do any of these things. It was his own inner drive, his own inner monologue, his own way of looking at the world, that was making him do all of it. This, to Hemingway, was the most comfortable life possible.

A very similar sentiment can be seen among mountaineers, whose iconic response to why they climb mountains - "because they're there" – echoes Hemingway’s own life with perfect clarity. For these people, climbing a mountain is relaxing, is 'comfortable', in the sense that climbing a mountain rejuvenates these people, it renews their strength to fight against the absurd, the necessary, the unavoidable. It is more painful for these people to lie on the bed doing nothing than to climb a mountain, just as it was more painful for Hemingway to do nothing than to do something, and more painful for Santiago to make a mistake in the craft of fishing than the knowledge that he had gone eighty-four days without catching a fish. It is not getting the catch that makes a difference to Santiago, but being a good fisherman.

Born into a heritage of suicidality, Hemingway's eventual killing of himself, which is often used as a stick to beat him with, had many reasons even apart from the fact that he suffered from a hereditary condition that affected mental and physical health, and that his father, his brother, and his sister all killed themselves, too. He had been "treated" for "mental conditions" with more than 10 rounds of ECT, leaving him without full brain function, which he considered essential to his entire purpose, his vocation in life.

In a way, his suicide, precipitated by the irreversible degradation in his quality of life as he saw fit, illustrated his willingness to settle for nothing but his own idea of his own comfort – it was only when his life became irreparably worse than he could bear that he chose his 'comfort' in the most drastic way imaginable. This is best seen, as far as this piece is concerned, in juxtaposition to Camus’s timeless words, "Suicide is the only real philosophical problem". Providing the other, action-oriented half to Albert Camus’s dry, analytical, philosophical statement, and finishing his sentence like true soulmates should, Friedrich Nietzsche, who was born half a century before either Hemingway or Camus, said “He who has a why to live can bear almost any how”.


Carrying One's Own Cross: How Nietzsche Despaired in the Destruction of Church and God

Nietzsche’s use of the ubermensch concept stems directly from his disapproval of the wholesale break-up of the institution of God, recognising with immense clarity that the concept of God was the basic comfort of mankind, and eradicating the same would require the creation of an alternative source of comfort, an alternative source of the desire to keep fighting the good battle. Nietzsche was not rejoicing in the death of God, as he himself proclaimed it, but was in fact exhibiting his deep concern at the breakdown of the idea and philosophical institution of God, which he knew to be the bedrock of the very idea of civilization.

It becomes much easier to understand and act out Nietzsche’s philosophy once this distinction is made, and once this reference point is established. When lamenting the death of god, he was not lamenting the death of blind tradition, repressive heritage, and the dangerous insulation that comes with a too sharply cut social identity, but the death of hope, of charity, and of beauty. When proclaiming the death of god, he was not celebrating, but rather worrying about whether, why, and how people would take flight when there was no more a heaven to look up to, and what would stop people from descending into hell now that it was brought alongside heaven and earth without discrimination.

Nietzsche, Camus, and Hemingway teach us that once the decision to live life is made, consciously and in full awareness, the domino effect stemming from that decision might just carry the individual through their entire life; that once the reason to live one’s life is found, the vicissitudes of day to day life do not seem to have any effect on the enjoyment and delectation of said life; that once one’s true comfort is found, no invasion, no intrusion, no interference can push this consciously lived life off its rails.


Chapter 3: We the People: The Difference Between Habituation and Comfort

"Hesitating to act because the whole vision might not be achieved, or because others do not yet share it, is an attitude that only hinders progress." - Mahatma Gandhi

Swades - We the People, the 2004 commercial flop from Ashutosh Gowarikar, remains one of the best movies of all time in Indian cinema, one of the best projects Gowarikar ever completed, and, in the context of this piece, one of the best discussions on the idea of 'comfort' one will ever see.

Rooted in Gandhian conscious collectivism, Swades opens with Mohan Bhargav, an NRI scientist working for NASA, feeling the first pangs of discomfort in his luxurious, high-scale, high-achieving life, because he misses his mother figure, Kaveri amma, who raised him as a young child in India and made him who he is today. As the song ‘Yeh jo des hain tera’ makes explicit later, it is an unnamed, unnameable longing that is pulling him closer to the place of his ‘belonging’, to a land and a people where he is not only welcome, but missed achingly.

Through Mohan's lens, we see the habitual lethargy and disunity of Charanpur, a small village framed as a microcosm of India itself, as the place where Rama once walked, and where Rama's footprints can still be seen. Charanpur is not strong, it is not rich, it is not powerful, but the biggest problem with it, according to Mohan, is not the presence of the material hardships but the absolute absence of unity, which blocks any and all paths towards material progress.

Mohan sees himself as an outsider, as a man straddling two cultures, until he witnesses the very human plight of Haridas, the weaver who wasn't allowed to change his profession, and thus association with the related caste, even just to feed his own family. Shaken to his very core by this injustice, Mohan becomes restless, trying to properly understand and align new realizations into capable, productive motivation. But he finally sees himself as an Indian at heart, on the basis of his own honest confession to himself of his own concern for this people, for his people. Unlike others in Charanpur, though, he sees the problems of India as something to work to eradicate, not something to get used to or sweep under the rug. It is this restlessness, this anxiety, this angst, that feeds his later actions in the movie.

Having grown tired and frustrated with the villagers' apathy, Mohan eventually confronts them in two key scenes set on the day and night of the Hindu festival of Dussehra, the day when the good, symbolized as Rama, defeats evil, symbolized as Ravana.

He accosts them for having gotten used to the absence of electric power and other material hardships, for putting all their energy into justifying their present situation rather than into improving it, for having lost their ability or desire to fight, for sinking into apathy, ignorance, and an unspoken collective agreement to pervert the meaning of 'comfort' to justify their inability to fix their situation. Mohan Bhargav, an outsider in the literal sense if not the spiritual sense, sees that they are not really comfortable with what and who they are, but merely used to it.

Knowledge of the difference between what we are merely used to, and what we are actually comfortable with, is often what sparks revolutions and brings about lasting change. It can be difficult to separate the habitual and the usual from the comfortable, and it is not until a party realizes that the thing they are used to is not what they are comfortable with, that they can truly move out of it. This is seen on all levels and in all modes of human interaction, from the inner dialog of individuals to the politics of entire nation-states, from couples and families to multinational corporations, from sports teams to art groups, and from religion to science. To acknowledge the biting, ever-present niggle hinting that what you have is not what you want can be difficult, but once this first step is completed, the rest usually falls into place on its own. Taking that first step is what defines a hero, in the original, psychologically exploratory sense of the word.

Often, due to the immense difficulty of admitting to oneself that what one has is not what one wants, it takes an outsider to show us it. Whether we are prepared for the positive change or steeped irrevocably in apathy and self-pity is revealed in our response to the outsider pointing this out to us.

This is exactly what plays out in the second half of Swades, precipitated by Mohan’s constructive solution of building a small hydroelectric plant to satisfy Charanpur’s own power needs – born out of his anger and frustration at the self-indulgence, arrogant ignorance, and self-pity of Charanpur – being embraced, not antagonized, by the villagers. The village head, mukhiya, who has always seen Mohan sympathetically, symbolizes the political, material willpower necessary to bring about lasting change, while ‘Dadaji’, the old Gandhian teacher who has been trying in vain for years, decades even, to bring back the spirit of what made India independent, into a now-independent India, symbolizes the spiritual spine that every long-lasting, auspicious revolution demands and requires. Together, the village head and the old teacher enable Mohan’s efforts to make the village self-sufficient in terms of electric power, eliminating at a stroke the power cuts that have restrained and divided the village for years.

In one of many, many excellent directorial touches in this movie, which make the movie worth rewatching not just once but several times, Kaveri amma even says to Mohan, “He who would not help himself cannot be helped even by God”. This is theoretically the ‘prevailing belief’ in this part of the world, but the village still hasn't produced a hero, one who would break through the shackles of mentality holding them back. In another directorial wink at the audiences, when Mohan meets the village panchayat for the first time, one of the council members, a rather mysterious character within the story named "Narayan ji", responds to Mohan’s namaskar with the popular Indian saying, “Raam tumhari raksha kare”, meaning "May Rama protect you", an almost inconspicuous line that sets up the whole of the rest of the movie, and a sentiment whose meaning is turned inside out by Mohan Bhargav in his refusal to idly sit by hoping for the arrival of Rama, and instead pursuing Him in a tangible, rational, empirical manner. While the villagers only see Rama in the idol, Mohan sees Rama in blood and sweat and toil, anger, rage and fury, peace, benefaction, and charity, togetherness, unity, and belonging, and accomplishment, success, and achievement.

Mohan Bhargav, theoretically an outsider, seemingly an outsider, brings the knowledge beyond the shackles to the place of his roots. He fights with them, and for them, and this makes them trust him. It is not that they don’t want the good things, but that they are genuinely stymied by the situation around them, possibly even by the very basic absence of the knowledge of the process of power generation, which Mohan brings with him from ‘the outside’, where he has explored but his people haven’t. It only takes one properly rolling stone to create an avalanche, and Mohan plays exactly that role – he doesn’t just criticize the villagers idly, nor does he try to fix their problems for them – he fights their battles with them, leading them when necessary, and by doing so makes them believe once again in the possibility of something better, the possibility of improvement.

This is acknowledged in the Diwali scene, when the farmer panch, who has always been the most openly antagonistic toward Mohan, heartily appreciates and thanks Mohan for his contribution to not just the material well-being, but the psychological well-being of the society of Charanpur, showing that the reason why he was antagonistic to Mohan earlier was not that he didn’t want the good things, but that he didn’t believe in their possibility, a sentiment echoed by the potters whom Mohan meets in his school recruitment drive, and who see the idea that their own children could, through education, one day play a fighting role in the wider world as an unattainable dream until the persistence of Mohan, Nivaran Dayal, and Melaram convinces them. It is their unfortunately mutual absence of belief in progress and improvement that makes the individuals that make up the society of Charanpur turn to casteism instead, which enables some form of order and some form of shared identity in the society and culture that they nevertheless care for, rather than the nihilistic psychological chaos of the absence of hope. The scene right after the Diwali scene brings this sentiment to a pathos-rich consummation, with Dadaji declaring his comfort at the fact that with Mohan now here to guide the village, and with one more sensible head to guide India herself, he can now peacefully breathe his last.

Negativity, more than anything else, is a feeling of loss of agency. To maintain one's agency, which goes all the way from the intrapersonal to the universal, is to maintain positivity. Mohan Bhargav comforts the villagers of Charanpur by abstaining from negativity, even in response to almost open hostility on occasion, and maintaining his positivity, to the point of frustration, anger, and a possibly-risky confrontation, a knowing nod to the Gandhian origins of the thesis of the movie.

Comforting someone is not to keep them wrapped up in a state of mental and physical numbness. It is not to keep them inside because the outside is dangerous. It is to prep them for battle, fighting alongside them if necessary. It is to prep them for the inevitable outside, because however bad the outside can get, nothing is worse than never going there.


Chapter 4: The Comfort of the Creative and the Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck

Camus, in the Myth of Sisyphus, says - whether the earth or the sun revolves around the other is a matter of profound indifference. What matters is whether life is worth living or not.

This opinion – certainly the first half of it – echoes almost verbatim that of another literary giant, a great and terrible bloodhound, who knew what poisonous plants grew in which part of England and could identify what area of London you’d been in by the mudstains on your trousers, but lacked even the desire to get to know that the sun is the center of the solar system, a "fact" that every child is forced to learn by rote, because all that matters to him is the game that he has chosen for himself. It is only when the "game is on" that this master hunter awakens to the world surrounding him. This of course is particularly true of this individual, whose biography includes the note that he was an intravenous consumer of cocaine, meaning that the surface perception of the world around him was to him a matter of profound unimportance and literally something to "wake up to" only if the right case, the right scent came along.

I am talking, of course, about Sherlock Holmes.

No one would call Holmes' life "comfortable" in the conventional sense, with an inconstant schedule, sometimes infrequent access to food and drink, and the constant risk of being attacked by one of Professor Moriarty's lower-level operatives and murdered into oblivion. But Sherlock has chosen this life for himself, because it is the only life that makes sense to him, the only life that is comfortable to him. He could've been a highly successful actor, as criminals and lawkeepers alike remark in the OG books, and he would have been sure to turn a successful hand at any of the million trades available to an eligible nineteenth century British middle class man of his talents and sheer brain power. Mycroft, his older brother, was sure to have suggested a suitable position in government, protecting his brother’s life at a stroke from both the criminal underbelly of the country and the anonymity and disrespect that comes with the absence of official credentials.

But Sherlock persists in his quixotic ways, meagre means, and rented apartment, steadily talking to a skull in the absence of a companion and whiling away the empty hours with temperamental bouts on the violin and recreational cocaine injections.

This streak is also seen in the characters of Howard Roark and his own role model, Henry Cameron, in Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead, with all of Roark, Cameron, and Sherlock Holmes refusing to accept anything other than the life they want, as their meaning of "comfort". It would've been less comfortable for Howard Roark to design phony, ostentatious buildings for Guy Francon than to starve due to a lack of patrons, for instance, just as it would have been less comfortable for Holmes to draw a considerable salary as an essential government employee and live in material comfort, the only sense of the word that has persisted in modern times, than to depend on unpredictable criminal cases for making a living. The meaning of the word "comfort", for people like these, is entirely psychological, mental, never material. It is fulfilment of their mental projects, goals, and targets that makes these people truly comfortable, not soft cushions and spa treatments.

They are willing to stake their entire reputations upon not just the outcome of their creative work, which requires that they be allowed to do things their own way, but sustained excellence, which, while appearing to be spectacularly ‘uncomfortable’ in the conventional sense of the word, remains the pulsating, dynamic core of their comfort. Like Santiago, the fisherman from Old Man and the Sea, Sherlock Holmes, Howard Roark, and Henry Cameron do what they do as not just a means of livelihood, but as a way of life, as an organic extension of who they are at the core. Hemingway, writing the following sentence about Santiago, might as well have been writing it about Sherlock, Poirot, Roark, Cameron, Taggert, or Rearden:

“The thousand times that he had proved it meant nothing. Now he was proving it again. Each time was a new time and he never thought about the past when he was doing it.”


Chapter 5: आराम: कल्पवृक्षाणाम् विराम: सकलापदाम् - Rama as Comfort Personified

The word Rama, coming close on the heels of the root sound ‘रं’, literally means ‘comfort’, ‘enjoyment’, even ‘entertainment’, in a certain sense. The Vishnusahasranaam calls Vishnu रामो विरामो विरजो in one of its many verses, highlighting the importance of the linguistic root of ‘Rama’ in the majesty and glory of the root deity Vishnu himself. Other words such as लोकाभिराम also highlight the role of Rama as something that destresses, relaxes, and comforts.

रं, the root of Rama, is found in both beauty and violence, in both love and war, in the Sanskrit language, as seen in the words - रमणीय, रममाण, रती, on one side and रण, रोष, and क्रोध on the other. The letter is also seen in रज, राग, and रंग, which denote sensuality and the differentiable and combinatorial nature of perception, an aspect of awareness / consciousness possibly functioning as the brush that picks up from both sides and applies them equally on the canvas of consciousness. Rather interestingly, the letter is also seen to be closely associated with blood, in words like रक्त and रुधिर, and tears, as in रुदन and क्रंदन, making for a powerful association of ideas that not just do go with each other, but perhaps should.

Linguistically, this hints at the idea that comfort comes from not just one, not even both, but a combination of war and love, violence and beauty, joy and sorrow, sensitivity and intolerance, and that राम is the path to रं, the psycholinguistic root of all the severely important aspects and functions of the human body listed above, and more. राम is what leads us to रं.

It is for this reason that the best friends and spouses are often those that infuriate and becalm you in equal measure. Those that attract you and anger you in equal measure.

These are our "comfort zones", where we can truly be ourselves, able to express both sides of our personality. These are our partners not just in peace, but in war - or in crime, as the wayward juvenile insist on saying. This is why fighting with your spouse can, has, and should be elevated to an art form where excellence, not victory, is the goal.


Rama as the Comfort of Culture

The ideological, philosophical, and religious repercussions of the literary character of Rama encompass the entire length and breadth of the human experience, from the intrapersonal to the globally social. In purely mathematical terms, Rama can be termed as the vector quality that pushes the otherwise scalar quantities of the world into grouping, socialization, and culture. Like a vector graphic design, which is based on ratios and proportionality rather than absolute metrics, the symbolism of Rama can be applied equally well at any scale of the human experience, unlike a Raster graphic design, which comes with its own fitting and hence cannot be expanded or shrunk to suit the wearer.

Rama is the ideal comfort, the ideal one to have next to you in times of war as well as peace, to the extent that even those who actually fought with him – not just those who came after – revered him as divine. He shows through his actions that he is not just a comfort for those who ally with him, but a comfort for all who follow the good path – or, as the philosophy behind the mythology puts it, a comfort for all the three worlds of the animistic Hindu faith. The word "लोक" deserves its own entry in this series, and it may get one someday, but suffice it to say for now that the word "लोक", which means both “that which is seen / perceived” and “those who perceive”, represents a tangible, perceptible blurring of the line between "world" and "worldview" in the Hindu faith.  

To say that Rama is a comfort to all three worlds, is to say that Rama is a comfort whether you are in psychological heaven, psychological middle ground, or psychological hell, a comfort in all worldviews.

Not only Rama’s historical person, but the name Rama itself has been consecrated into Hinduism as an everpresent, ever-available, ever-capable source of support and grounding in times of trouble. It can be argued in this context that the historical or literary character of Rama, within Hindu philosophy and psychology, represents a ‘just-right’ balancing of the two sides of human personality, with his name representing a ‘just-right’ balance of the two ways the root letter रं can take psycholinguistically, the two ways it can twist in meaning. This idea, of course, is encapsulated brilliantly in the depiction of the two masks, personas, of comedy and tragedy, in the traditional symbol of the theater, the stage, the रंगभूमी of Indic thought. Psycholinguistically this suggests at an idea that positivity or negativity is really, at some level, a choice, a conscious choice made by an actor on the theater of the world, both material and mental. Emotional and affective equivalence between the two can be termed as the Psychophysiological Rama Progression, the dynamic state of the स्थितप्रज्ञ - he of stable intellect - a psychophysiological state of the human bodymind where it touches and reveals its ability to channel the divine - the unseen guiding light, the अलख निरंजन of Kabir, the Nath tradition, and Guru Nanak's Sikhism, among other notable lineages.

Chanting Rama’s name and meditating upon his form is said to be one of the best paths to mukti or moksha in Hindu philosophy, and also remains a popular everyday method to allay worries, concerns, or fears among religious Hindus. The everpresent Indian greeting of “Ram Ram” takes on much greater significance in this context, transforming from a religious statement to identify others like us, into a panhumanistic sentiment of the shared hope of mutual prospering that defines culture and civilization. Rama is the highest good that all cultures are built around. Rama is remembered when meeting new people as well as when waving goodbye to the dearly departed, in happiness and in pain, by oneself and with others, when eating and when starving, further revealing the nature of the literary character of Rama as a panhuman, even pan-universal force of good.

In this way, Rama becomes the comfort of not just his own contemporaries, his own family, his own loved ones, but an entire civilization, an entire timeline, and lineage, spanning several thousands of years and the entirety of the immense Indian Subcontinent.


Chapter 6: The Materialistic Vestiges of “Comfort” and the Dying Tradition of Getting on With It

The materialistic meaning of “comfort” is all that has remained with the shift in time from a spirit-based, honor-glory-virtue-based, animistic society, to a strictly materialistic one. Seen from the lens of materialism, from the lens of right-here-right-now thinking, physical pleasures, indulgences, and titillations are the only thing that can prepare one for the battle of our times, where relaxing is associated with softness, good taste is associated with sweetness, the battles are hardly ever literal, but metaphorical, and watching helplessly as Sisyphus’s boulder rolls back, rather than straining to push it uphill again, has become the cultural norm.

This leaves "comfort" to occupy the same psycholinguistic space as rest and relaxation, which has no inherent objective of preparing the subject for battle. It leaves "comfort" to mean the same as numbness, the same as sleep, the same as rest, the same as relaxation. Humanity, in the historical perspective, has never been more "comfortable" than in present times, and yet this has come with an equally unprecedented spike in the rates of psychological disorders like anxiety, depression, BPD, etc. Whence, then, this contradiction?


Batatyachi Chaal and the Pursuit of Happiness

P. L. Deshpande's Batatyachi Chaal, the great entertainer’s magnum opus in my own humble opinion, laments the passing of such a time, when people prioritised the wars of surviving and thriving above physical comfort, often going without what we would even forget to call "basic amenities" because we are so used to them. The people were rock hard, and thus organically together, and were engaged furiously – each in their own way – in the nevertheless common pursuit of happiness, one of many human rights that the US constitution was prescient, often first, in recognising as such.

The inclusion of this right in the US constitution, just like the wit of Pu La Deshpande in penning his passionate portrayal of life in Mumbai in the first half of the twentieth century, shows the ability of the respective writers to stay in their present moment, present times, without losing the link to what has been, or to what will be. It is in the losing of the link to present times that insanity is truly found, and it is in the losing of the link to what was and what will be that wisdom is truly lost.

Perhaps this is the meaning of the often-ignored "continuum" in the term 'spacetime continuum', but to the mind, a memory is the same as being in that place, in that time. If a place ignites a spark of memory, it is because association with the place is the same as association with the time spent there. It is layers upon layers of such memories, associations, that "build" comfort, within societies, homes, people, and places, and all the institutions thereof. It is such layering, when it is well done, that creates true comfort, indicating as it does an alignment of what you are with what is.

Like most words in this series, the meaning of the word ‘comfort’ bifurcates into a process-oriented, action-oriented meaning, which includes the effects of the dimension of time, and which has been lost in the drive towards materialism, and a static, unyielding, “objective” meaning, which has removed the effects of time from the meaning of the word, taking with it the very human awareness of the antecedents and descendants of the present moment, and the very human ability to work magic between the two poles of what was and what will be.

The right to the pursuit of happiness in the US constitution encapsulates the former meaning, wisely recognizing as it does the Sisyphean nature of the central desire of the human spirit, while the materialistic modern interpretation of the word is recognizable instantly by the insistence of its adherents on the absence of effort, absence of sacrifice, absence of dedication and consistency, and of the continuity between the right and the wrong, the good and the bad, the then and the now, not knowing that forgetting this continuity is to forget who we are.


समाजपुरुष and the Role of First-Person Association In Belonging

The final chapter in PuLa's Batatyachi Chaal, "एक चिंतन" (A Ponderance), talks of people who were constantly fighting life head-on, were constantly preparing to fight life head-on, without getting caught up in material discomforts, economic hardships, and socio-political disturbances. In the constantly shifting, murky world of the first half of the 20th century, the "चाळ" (a type of housing complex popular in Maharashtra, and a word so enveloped within the layers of the region’s culture that I literally couldn't come up with a translation for it) remained a polar constant, carrying on with its exuberant, larger than life routine and its understated, deflated rent prices, undeterred by minor inconveniences such as mosquitoes, fleas, rats, and the million other pests brought along by the tropical weather of Mumbai, influenza, malaria, TB, dysentery, and several other such contagious and deadly diseases, a couple of world wars, bringing along with them rationing and an even shorter lease on the already contracted way of life in the lower middle class, as well as the rise of the final properly organized push for India's independence. Yet the building's occupants remained strong, and passionate, and devoted to their personal as well as communal pursuits, which kept the entire building running, and as one.

The building’s lament is not with the hardships and troubles, but with the dimming of the life-affirming spirit that kept it not only running and functional, but prosperous and thriving even through the hard times. The 'chaal' doesn't tremble at the fear of being torn down as derelict - it has always been okay with that - rather, it trembles at the tragic reality that the children and grandchildren of these people, having grown up without their environment creating fundamental, inevitable hardships, should now seek to find the flaws of life in their place of origin, mirroring Mohan Bhargav’s initial approach to India and Charanpur, which Kaveri amma corrects by pointing out his habit of referring to Indians in the second person rather than in the first person.

Haunted by such absence of first-person association with it among its own occupants, बटाट्याची चाळ now finds itself a lone voice, a sorry, pathetic Hamlet trying to avenge not a biological father but a cultural father, a sentiment expressed excellently in the Sanskrit word समाजपुरुष, which means something on the lines of "the way a society is organized". It is a capable समाजपुरुष that comforts, in theory, the समाज or society based on it, while a weak समाजपुरुष corrupts and weakens society by leaving it without comfort, i.e. spineless, in times of need. It is the loss of such a stronger, more resilient, more densely packed, older spine of society that this last chapter in the book laments and recalls.

It remains one of the best literary descriptions of what is often nebulously termed as the "generation gap" without proper understanding of what the ‘generation’ or ‘gap’ in that phrase refer to. The word ‘comfort’, of course, remains central to that conversation.

What is “comfortable” is what allows us to fight the world on our terms. What is “comfortable” is what keeps us fighting, what aids us in fighting for a long time and with sustained vigor. It is not what allows us to forget the world in a torn fortress of loneliness, relaxation, and numb ignorance. As a species, humanity has not prospered on the back of inaction, indulgence, and indifference. It was awareness of the continuity of the present with the future, including both the good and the bad in it, that drove humanity out of ignorance and into the light. It is, in the literal sense, inhuman to futilely try to give up this awareness, to reject and suppress it because present pleasures cannot be refused and metaphorical battles can always be postponed. It is the ability to fight, to work, and to stay on track that drives everything about humanity that can reasonably be termed ‘good’, while the ability to fight together, to work together, and to prepare for the next battle together, is what brings people truly closest, invoking as it does a primal covenant imprinted into the soul of humanity even before our first memory. It is wise to stay aligned with this covenant, which, in a very real sense, gives humanity its own meaning.


सर्वांना अक्षय्य तृतीयेच्या अनंत अनंत शुभेच्छा! भांडते रहा, मांडते रहा! वाढते रहा, खेळते रहा!



© Tanmay Viraj Tikekar

30/04/2025

tikekar.tanmay@gmail.com

Tuesday, April 22, 2025

Wordilicious Word of the Week #1: Companion

The word 'companion' comes from the Latin prefix 'com', meaning 'with' or 'along with' (also seen in community, commonality, and communication), and 'pan', meaning bread. Often, simply breaking down words correctly gives a clear indication into what the words actually mean. The whole problem is often simply that the words are being fragmented incorrectly, at the wrong node.

In simple literal terms, a companion is someone you break bread with, someone you eat with.

Already, we see a shift from the meaning we are used to, i.e. someone you spend time with, someone who gives you company (another, and heavily related, 'com' word). But the rabbit hole doesn’t stop there.

Spending time with someone can be incredibly important, but many of us spend a lot of time with a lot of people we don't want to spend time with, such as work friends and colleagues who you wouldn't invite to your own going away party, let alone anything more significant. Schoolchildren and teachers alike spend a lot of time not wanting to be around each other. An applicant in an office where his form is being rejected repeatedly spends a lot of time with the clerks and officers there. Are they, then, companions? Of course not. They're barely there.

Companionship, in the sense we usually use it today, indicates a mutual desire to spend time together, rather than the physical presence of two people in the same place at the same time. But the literal breakdown of the word hints at an idea within the human mind that eating together, especially regularly, is the zenith of the pursuit of spending time together with someone. It seems that to the human mind, the activity of spending time together with someone “means” having food with them.


Table of Contents:
Part 1: Companionship as the Essence of Compatibility
Part 2: Sharing Food as a Marker of Sociality
Part 3: The Devaluation of Food
Part 4: Hospitality and the Human Need to Find Another Just Like Ourselves
Part 5: Disturbances in the Force – Lack of True Companionship in Domesticity
Part 6: Sharing Food (Companionship) as the Neurological Basis for Kinship
Part 7: We Are What We Eat: How What We Eat Affects How We Act
Part 8: A Journey in Time


Part 1: Companionship as the Essence of Compatibility

It is incredibly suggestive within the context of this piece that first dates more often than not involve coffee, lunch, dinner, alcohol, or something else gastronomical. Even the classic movie date is more about the sharing of the popcorn than about what reels are playing on the screen, and one of the most popular lead lines among men to flirt with novel women is to offer them a drink at the bar. Eating and the habits associated with it seem to reveal one's true inner nature, more than anything else.

Consider how much important stuff happens in the Harry Potter books over food in the great hall. Consider how many great scenes in the series are made and elevated by the incredibly atmospheric and lively descriptions of the foods and beverages served up in the great hall of Hogwarts. Would Hermione have thought of the excellent ruse to slip Crabbe and Goyle the sleeping potions in the second book, for instance, if they had not been their companions in the literal sense, even if not in the conventional sense? Would Harry have been able to dupe Ron into thinking he had ingested liquid luck in the sixth book without the ever-so-handy cover of a flagon of pumpkin juice? Would the character of Ronald Bilius Weasley even remain Ronald Bilius Weasley without the copious descriptions of him gorging on whatever food he could lay hands on at any given moment, and Hermione resignedly making sardonic remarks on his insatiable appetite?

A prospective couple happily enjoying a meal together on their first date can be one of the best signs that there will be a second date, if not more. It is actually a worthwhile trick to consider, if looking for a potential marriage partner, whether you would enjoy having three meals a day for fifty years or more with this human being. Sticking to the Harry Potter theme, it is worthwhile to remember Harry’s disastrous solitary date with Cho Chang, where having even one meal together seemed to become an impossible task, while his friendship and eventual romance with Ginny no doubt benefitted from the innumerable communal meals Harry had with the Weasleys, made especially significant by the noted isolation of Harry as a young child.

Consider also the very suggestive fact that P. G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves is accepted by Bertie Wooster as his valet right after Bertie partakes in Jeeves’s proprietary concoction of a wake-up drink, which seems to drive away all traces of his hangover and preps him up properly to face what had previously seemed like a drab day. It is not the character Bertie Wooster’s mindset that I want to draw attention to here, but rather that of the author, who thought of the entire scene from the perspective of both Jeeves and Bertie.

Comestibles, things worth sharing in the literal sense, it would seem, are intimately associated with the judging and evaluating of compatibility.


Part 2: Sharing Food as a Marker of Sociality

The act of eating draws us together. It is one of the few things that unites all of humanity, regardless of pretty much anything else. It is the emaciated stomachs of the Jewish prisoners of the holocaust, of the Indian victims of the British-inflicted famines of the twentieth century, and of the starving children in Sub-Saharan Africa in modern times that draw the attention at first glance, a healthy stomach being the first clear sign of good health and sound body. So many girlfriends and wives have lamented, often fruitlessly, that their husbands and boyfriends don’t take them out to wine and dine, which, despite literally living with the man, remains a much sought after proposition. So many soldiers have bonded over the stability of shared meals in the helter-skelter reality of war. The use of the word "company" in military terminology is quite interesting for this reason: Linguistically, an army company is "the group that eats together; that is assigned to eat together".

Sharing food can broadly be termed as the defining feature of a “social animal”, with the extent of the sharing defining the level of sociality within the species. Wolves, elephants, wild dogs, lions, whales, dolphins, and orcas are among the most well-known examples of social animals, notably marked by an absence of a ‘feeding frenzy’ when a kill is made. A feeding frenzy occurs when predators get so overwhelmed by the neuronal rush of finding fresh food that all consideration for the tribe or 'friendly others' is extinguished, and the prey becomes a wild, lawless buffet that is free for all who can get it, and barred for all who can't. Animals that exhibit feeding frenzy behavior may let their own cubs, let alone those of others in their tribe, starve while literally filling themselves up with food.

Even though the aforementioned social animals sometimes default to the factory setting of each one filling their fill, this only takes place in bigger groups or where prey is unnaturally scarce, indicating a certain level of control over the selfishness inherent in each individual’s genetic makeup. As a norm, these and other social animals are notable for their preference for sharing food with their pack instead of the one who finds food wiping it off all by itself. In fact orcas and wolves in particular are well-known for prioritizing the young and the injured among the tribe when a kill is made, while elephants and whales are known to have long memories passed down over generations and emotional, affective mental states such as grieving their dead and remembering other animals, including humans, after particularly impressive encounters.

The fact that pretty much all animals can be lured, into safety or into confinement, with the use of food, has such a banality about it that we fail to realize its immense significance. The desire for food outweighs the more basic and mutually contradictory desire to remain safe as a motivational agent, while receiving food from the big bipedal monkey establishes a bond of trust, even among purely wild animals with no hint of domestication. This is the significance of sharing food.


Part 3: The Devaluation of Food:

1. Due to the Eradication and Antagonization of Animistic Faith

It is not for no reason that seventeenth century Indian saint Samarth Ramadas called food “poornabrahma” – “the whole of brahma / wholly brahma”, brahma being the basic material of the world as per Hindu thought. This alludes to the incredibly direct, incredibly speedy, and incredibly effective impact of our dietary consumption upon our mental state, whose elevation, expansion, and meditation is said to be the key to spiritual progress and eventually moksha, or freedom, in Indian thought. Ramadas, well aware of the panchakosha or five-sheath system in yogic thought, reminds us that food acts not only on the physical body or the annamay kosha, which is the outermost kosha of the true self or the aatman, but all the way through to the wisdom body and the bliss body, i.e. the vijnanamaya and anandamaya koshas, which are held to be the innermost sanctum of the aatman in yogic philosophy.

The same man, Samarth Ramadas, also called the act of eating ‘yajnakarma’, i.e. the same as the divine rites in Hinduism for humans and other lower-level entities to connect with the gods. This was in spite of the man being well-known for his custom of only eating food that had been granted to him as ‘bhiksha’ (alms) and with no concern for the whims of the taste buds. Incidentally, the system of ‘bhiksha’, when you really think about it, seems little more than a societally backed system of spiritual companionship, built through sharing food, and (in theory, at least) leading to spiritual progress, peace of mind, and virtuous behavior for all parties.

2. Due to Technological Advances in Agricultural Production

In the days of Samarth Ramadas, and before him, when the word ‘companion’ formed, food scarcity was not the aberration that we moderns may consider it to be. Food production was still to a heavy degree reliant upon the mercy of the weather gods, irrigation was often dependent upon unreliable river floods, the use of fertilizers was limited to supplements locally and cheaply procured to fulfill local needs, and the lack of advanced preservation techniques meant that most of the food had to be consumed locally. This made food valuable in a way that the modern mind can scarcely visualize, having grown up enjoying the benefits of the agriculture, dairy, and meat industry revolutions of the 20th century as a birthright.

Many transactions still took place with the crop as the currency per se, with kings and rulers often taking a cut as taxation, while locally, farmers often bartered with other tradesmen with their crop to pay for their own needs. This adds another layer to the meaning of the word ‘companion’, indicating that what you are sharing is not just food, but bare, naked valuein possibly its most pure and most tangible form that humanity has ever been able to produce.

Most of the people reading this would have trouble even picturing a famine, but before the 19th or 20th century, most of the world lived in perfect, often experiential awareness of the disaster of famines and in constant fear of the same. This makes the sharing of food an even more significant activity. Sharing even in the absence of abundance is prescribed as the highest of high moral benchmarks in most ancient religions, built on the lived memories of several generations of observant, studious people, who figured out that it is the spirit of sharing, more than anything else, that ultimately leads to sustainably successful societies.

It is with this consideration that one should enjoy and, should he so desire, share food, and it is only with a sternly reciprocal mindset that the recipient of the sharing, the 'companion', must accept the bounty that is offered to him of good heart. It is not the mark of a good man to offer his own food to whoever comes along. Above all gifts, the gift of food has to be honored in its disbursal and consumption.


Part 4: Hospitality and the Human Need to Find Another Just Like Ourselves

The importance of hospitality in ancient culture is also relevant to the original conception of the word "companion". Hospitality, before mobile apps allowing remote hotel room bookings and food delivery apps delivering food to your doorstep, was an essential parameter in the overall 'goodness', or 'virtue', of a householder. Inability to provide food and water to a guest would rank as a dark stain on the character, or virtue, of a householder, possibly extending to his entire clan or bloodline. The duty of the householder, in a community held together by a common set of principles and rules, was not only to maintain his own household. It also carried as an essential imperative the duty to share his bounty with others, particularly those who needed it more.

So many stories, from all the different pantheons around the world, center on a benevolent god taking an earthly form and asking a poor devotee for some food to test their charity. Propitiated by the generosity of the devotee in spite of their material hardships, the god then grants unto the devotee a benefactory boon eradicating their material poverty. The story of Krishna and Sudama is of course intimately familiar to the Indian mind, and speaks to the significance placed upon the sharing of food by the ancients. It shows the significance these cultures placed on the sharing of whatever little there is, on communal partaking rather than solitary enjoyment, as an essential part of their worldview. This, to the ancients, was no laughing matter, but, sometimes quite literally, a matter of life or death.

In a way, it speaks to the fundamental need of mankind to find another just like ourself, to speak to another rather than to oneself, to juxtapose one's vision of life with another's. The supreme gods of many ‘pagan’, ancient, animistic faiths – certainly the Hindu faith – are depicted with a companion rather than alone for this very reason. Brahma has Saraswati, Vishnu has Lakshmi, Shankar has Parvati, Rama has Seeta, Krishna has his eight wives, even the hermit Narada is, on several occasions, tempted by various women.

There is a very real case to be made, though not without sufficient research and painstaking exploration, that it was the paradigm of the monogod, the often male but often genderless singular governing entity of the world, that is responsible for the intrapersonal, interpersonal, and social imbalance that we see within humanity today. As of now, however, this idea remains something to ponder upon, nothing more.

In the days of lawless treachery, backstabbing, and before the holy birth of the Geneva Conventions, eating together would have also served the much simpler, more basic purpose of preventing poisoning by one party, by forcing them to share in the grub. Political meetings, weddings, and other similar conventions of distinct, different groups are lubricated most efficiently by excellent and completely poison-free food and beverages, leading to more fruitful and longer-lasting alliances, social cohesion, harmony, and subsequently prosperity for both parties.


Part 5: Disturbances in the Force – Lack of True Companionship in Domesticity

The way in which cultural norms have shifted the meaning of ‘companion’, and thus of companionship and relationship itself, to suit prevailing beliefs is most apparent in the way food is served and eaten in households with an imbalanced power structure between the two partners. 

People from India need no reminder that it is often the way for the women of the house to serve the men first before having their own fill. Oftentimes, the womenfolk are relegated not only to eating after the men, but eating only what is left following the men’s meals. If western cultures did not have this particular practice, let it be remembered that it was only because and only when the household came equipped with staff and servants of its own, which allowed the womenfolk to eat alongside the men. This apparent ‘equality’ was replaced by a stark inequality in the way the lords and the servants ate, rather than the men and the women.

It is often the case in toxically patriarchal households that men, supposedly the standard bearers of their families, the capable half of the marriage, the protectors of the whole house and clan, are served first, as befits their stature within this way of thinking. It should not be too hard to spot a causal link between women not having a place at the table alongside the men in the dining room, to women not having a place at the table alongside the men in the living room, to women not having a place at the table alongside the men in a conference room.

The meaning of ‘companion’, in this social context, is often turned into little more than ‘attendant’ or 'servant', as someone who spends all their time in service of as well as in physical proximity of their higher, more glorious master. The difference between these two meanings is brashly buried under the monument of “custom” or “tradition”, right on top of the pile of debris where the worldview that thought of the word in the first place, used to stand.

No one knows the reason for these ‘traditions’ or ‘customs’, because quite literally, there is none – the supposed reasons and the resulting inequality were invented post hoc to justify social, psychological changes driven by unchecked forces that were possibly unplanned and possibly even without malice at the time. But acknowledging one’s own ignorance can often invoke fear and hence anger, a reaction sadly familiar to many downtrodden wives all over the world.

Where women are not afforded the primary purpose of companionship, i.e. the respect and love that comes with a place at the landlord's table, how can they be expected to offer the secondary purpose, i.e. to be there for the man in sickness and health, happiness and tears, hale and sun? How can worthwhile company be sought in the absence of the basic, definitional act of eating together?

To lighten the mood a bit, it is worthwhile to note that Queen Victoria, the monarch of the UK during its most glorious years and, as such, one of the most powerful people in the world during her reign, and well-known to be a woman, was also well-known to be a terrible mealtime host. The elaborately dressed and plated food of her era came and went entirely in accordance with her own whims. Queen Vicky was not only served first at the table, but was known to be a rapid eater with no consideration for whether her ‘companions’ had gotten their fill. This sometimes left her courtiers and even her own family members ruefully looking at the retreating plates of food that had been approved, consumed, and dismissed by the monarch before they had even had a touch.


Part 6: Sharing Food (Companionship) as the Neurological Basis for Kinship

Eating together on a regular basis – companionship, in the literal sense – seems to be a staple of happy marriages and relationships. The mutual respect afforded by the act may play a solid role in bringing and keeping the two parties together, and preventing them from drifting apart. Where women have a place alongside the men at the dining table, place is also usually kept for women alongside the men at the living room table, and at the conference table. The importance of who you eat with is also seen conspicuously in other expressions like “eating at the kiddie table”, indicating that eating alongside the grown ups is not a divine right but a privilege to be earned. Eating at someone’s table can be a high honor or a grave insult. It is important to note that Queen Victoria was not known to implement the same table manners in the company of her beloved husband Albert as she did when eating alongside those she didn’t consider worthy of affection or consideration. Prince Albert got more than his fill, don’t you worry about him.

Could it be that the oft-romanticized image of a family throwing away the gadgets to eat together is more than simply an old people’s whine but plain, hard, psychological fact staring us right in the face in these times of isolation, depression, panic attacks, and frozen meals for one? 

Eating food together may well be what defines a 'family', in the neurological, psychological sense. The tendency of pet animals to nag their human for not just their scraps but their main menu, and the parental bonding that takes place among animals when feeding the young, are examples of this selfsame phenomenon. For abandoned young birds and animals, the big bipedal monkey keeping them secure and well-fed may genuinely occupy the brain space dedicated to the parent bond, making the human caregivers truly ‘family’ as far as these animals are concerned. The heart-touching stories of inter-species parenting that we often see on Instagram are also the result of the same phenomenon, with the significance of the sharing of food being such that anyone you share food with is, on some level, considered ‘family’ by your brain, with more frequent communal eating further strengthening this neural connection.


Part 7: We Are What We Eat: How What We Eat Affects How We Act

It is important to remember that we, as living breathing human beings, are basically one big digestion tube, with the rest of the organs plying their ware around it and to its ends. From mouth to anus, we are a single unbroken tube, backed up by the spine and reinforced by all the vital organs around it. Various parts of the digestive tube play a participatory role in speech, respiration, cardiovascular function, blood health, urination and excretion, and endocrine activity, while the microbiome of our guts affects our behavior and mental states in such mundane ways that we remained blind to their very presence until not that long ago.

Humans are also deuterostomes, which means we begin our life as a tiny little anus, developing out of it, rather than developing out of the mouth towards the end. It may well be the case that knowledge of this phenomenon led to or added to the conceptualization of the muladhar chakra in yogic thought, which literally means the chakra that provides 'original, first, radical (root-like) support". Five of the seven chakras of yogic science lie right along the digestive tract, with only the ajna and the sahasrar lying without. The digestive system interacts with all of these, making it one of the most influential systems within the human body, alongside the cardiovascular-respiratory complex and the neural network.

This interconnectedness of the digestive tract with the whole of the rest of the body makes this long tube worth more than its weight in gold.

Modern science has not yet been able to figure out who or what it is, precisely, that controls our behavior. We know the brain is involved in it somehow, but beyond that, we really have very little clue about most of the things that go on in our own body. Feel free to verify this from your doctor, if you think I am exaggerating. We are only now beginning to figure out the myriad ways in which our gut microbiome interacts with the rest of the body, with the vast majority of its contribution still being very much a mystery. It is only now that western medical science is starting to see food as the first line of medicine rather than as a completely separate domain, and it is still miles away from recognizing food as the core of what we become, i.e. purnabrahma, as Ramadas put it.

Perhaps, then, the worldview that sees food as ‘wholly divine’ and compares digestion to holy rites to commune with the high gods, deserves another look-in.


Part 8: A Journey in Time:

1. The Shifting of Standards and an Unprecedented Generation Gap

Words like 'companion' take us back to a time, which to the mind is the same as place, when interpersonal relationships – not individual growth – played a dominant role in determining a person's social standing, and sharing was built into the fabric of society as an all-encompassing value. The popularity of Nordic concepts such as 'hygge', along with several other spellbinding customs and traditions that are well worth an entire afternoon's wikipedia surfing - take it from me - in modern culture points to an invisible longing for a return to communal times; times built on the need for society being acknowledged as a primal evolutionary drive that has served humankind from well before speech and imagination gave us incredible powers that truly drove us ahead of the rest of the animal kingdom.

The main problems with times of plenty are not those directly, linearly caused by the abundance, but those caused by ignorance or forgetfulness of the natural difficulty of life. It is not the diabetics and lung cancer patients and supermorbidly obese individuals who are the heralds of the artificially propped up modern bubble of abandon and plenty, but those who forget that it didn't always use to be this way.

This latter category is often used to a different set of standards than pretty much the entire rest of humanity that has prospered and flourished on earth throughout time. Their self-serving nature, and the resultant fall into depression, anxiety, and the likes, is valid behavior given their parameters - the parameters that they are used to. You can tell kids born in 2015 that there was a time when telephones were big and static, but they, having grown up with smartphones as their standard, will not be able to picture this at all. They may believe it, they may listen to all your stories about it, but their mental model has been built with satellite-powered smartphones, not grounded landlines. It is not really fair to criticize a generation for not living up to standards that have changed between the time they and their parents were born, particularly if the parents themselves have forgotten the true meaning of the standards and cannot demonstrate the same to their children through their own behavior.

The purpose of this series is partly to fix that: To bring the standards back where they used to be.

2. The Importance of Jargon

The words that we use in the English language today come straight from Roman Italy, Charlemagne's France, the Germanic states of the Holy Roman Empire, the several and glorious revolutions and wars of France, the exploration of North America, the forests of Central America, and, of course, good old England, which has itself undergone innumerable changes in its geographical, social, political, economic, religious, and ideological makeup over the years. Just to illustrate the timescale of what I am talking about, Christianity, which ruled Britain for the longest time and still holds deep ties with day to day life in the region, hadn't even formed yet when the Latin-speaking Romans landed on the Celtic island of Great Britain.

Tracing these words back to their origins doesn't just satisfy idle linguistic curiosity, but takes us back to those times: Times when everything was scarce, everything was made by hand, by a human person, who you were probably expected to invite to lunch the next Sunday, where you would use your own ground wheat to bake your own bread to share with your companion, as you discussed the malfeasances of the local bishopry, the quizzical turn of the weather hurting the harvest that year, and the impending war with one of your territory's several covetors or one of your king's several rivals. When to build a home meant literally just that, when food couldn't be transported long distances because it would spoil, and food cooked in the house had to be consumed by nightfall because while Prometheus had given us fire, he hadn't given us refrigeration yet, and preservation was limited to certain techniques and certain foods only.

If we use words from the corporate boardroom on the football pitch, or words from the theater at family dinner, or words from the opera at our Friday night drinkout with our buddies, we know we run the risk of miscommunication, misunderstanding, and resultant strife. And yet we continue to use words from the virtue, honor, and glory-obsessed Romans, the grandly imperial British, the strangely quixotic French, the passionate but articulate Germans, the reckless American pioneers, brave generals, poor peasants, popes and bishops, kings and queens, their subjects, and the servants of their subjects alike, with no regard for the risk of the message getting lost in translation, only to end up crying and miserable because ‘nothing makes sense anymore’ and ‘the world is not what it used to be’.

The nativity of language means that every time and place, every setting, every culture, has its own jargon, a unique set of words and root sounds that express specific intentions and emotions that may not travel at all beyond the confines of their birthplace. A new culture, especially one as antagonistic to the ‘shackles of tradition’ as the modern liberal culture has shown itself to be, needs either a new lexicon or the humble willingness to align with the true connotations of the existing lexicon, which go well beyond political divisions and ideological factions.

To stand on the shoulders of giants lends us greater vision, while forming a new column of giants, built from scratch, gives us the freedom of pioneers, of explorers in uncharted lands. But to stand on the shoulders of giants while denouncing all that they represent and stand for leaves us with nothing but erosion of that which held us aloft quietly all this time, and with nothing to show for it.

Adios for now, and for god’s sake have more meals with your loved ones!


Next week, we will be taking a look at another 'com' word - Comfort. Be warned, though - it might just turn out to mean exactly the opposite of what you have been taught it means. Until then, fare ye all well!


© Tanmay Viraj Tikekar

22 Apr 2025

tikekar.tanmay@gmail.com

Friday, April 18, 2025

Welcome to Wordilicious Words of the Week: Intro and Mission Statement

Hello, and welcome to Wordilicious Words of the Week:

Many words in the English language have had their meaning transmogrified, sometimes into perversion, over the two or three hundred years since modern English established itself as the language du jour. This series of Wordilicious Words of the Day is a humble attempt to fix or rediscover the meanings of these words. 

It is important to remember what we mean by the words we use. One man's uncommon can easily be another man's bizarre, or even grotesque, another man's regular can be another man's normal, and yet another man's happy can be another man's glad, or even joyous, or exuberant, and there would be simply no way to know which is which, unless we hold on to the root meanings of words, the meaning they were meant to have in the first place.

Vocabulary is a far bigger tool than most people realize.

The tonal differences between the original meanings of words and their present-day application, or between the multiple shades of a single sentiment each expressed in separate, distinct words, may not seem like much, but these small differences can build up into hideous misunderstandings on not just the interpersonal but also the intrapersonal and social scale.

How else is an individual to build up and maintain a healthy dialog with oneself if all the words he's using are wrong? How else are the ruled and the rulers to maintain a mutual trust if they are both saying different things than what they actually mean? Supreme executive power, as Monty Python put it, derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.

How else is a guru to connect with a shishya, if all the words he's using feel like not just a foreign language but like an alien language to the pupil? The same applies to basically every human relationship, as communication with words referring to things rather than the things being right there to point at wordlessly is pretty much the only USP of humanity over the rest of the natural world.

Over the coming weeks, I will try to put up one Wordilicious Word per week up on my blog. This is meant to be a linguistic connoisseur's look into the live, breathing nature of language, and what it refers to. The weekly rather than daily nature of this project is so that I can delve into the details of not just the word's origins, but the social, psychological, and material conditions at the time the word was formed, giving us a helpful window into what the people who first said the word may have actually meant when they said it.

As I write this piece, Google has given me a stern reminder of what I am fighting against by providing the definition of "connoisseur" to be "an expert judge in matters of taste", a most horrible definition that is not only divorced but distastefully antagonistic to the word's original meaning, which can be derived from other related words like "reconnaissance", "cognition", or "cognizant", and is meant to be something akin to "someone who likes to get to know (things)", "someone who likes to explore and find out new things", "someone who appreciates knowledge (possibly about a certain subject) for its own sake, as a pursuit of passion, not of scholarly interest".

As is often the case with progressivism, the process-oriented, active, dynamic part of a word is left behind, leaving behind an incomplete end result in the form of the pungent-smelling definition, "someone who definitively knows (things about a subject)". The word "amateur" has also undergone a very similar, fairly tragic trajectory, and will of course be covered in the coming weeks.

In the next week, we will be starting with a still-beloved, still fairly meaningful, but slightly derailed word : companion. Look forward to it!