The Ring

Temporal: Lol....what would I do here without you keeping me on my toes? :-) *checks her grammar and spelling *

Essensaur: well I was trying to pick the readers` brains but precisely because I really have no clue about it. Your response goes a long way in helping explain how different people think about the issue if I can call it that. Will write a lengthier response about it soon.

Jawahara #9

What indeed is there in superstitions that makes people believe, and believe to the exclusion of logic and intellect and, apparently morals and ethics?

I think that you already have a very good idea, and just want to pick the readers’ brains. But that is fair enough. Anyway, here is how I look at it, in a very, very summarized form.

Seems to me that legends, myths or superstitions, they all have their roots in the most important aspect that distinguishes humans from other species. We are cursed with the gift of being able to think.

Intellectual laziness arising out of the sheer impossibility of grasping and using all the knowledge around us; our need to trust, coupled with astute showmanship on the part of people we end up trusting; and even our own intellectual honesty and humility that allows us to accept the puny nature of our ability to comprehend our universe. They all combine to make us believe in superstitions, to the exclusion of logic and intellect.

As to our individual morals and ethics failing to overcome superstition, those are after all personal intangibles that we accepted without thinking, learned to live with, and compromised frequently. Superstitions can conquer those objections with the force of the unknown and the unknowable in no time at all. Believing also meets our need to belong – unfortunately we instinctively seek comfort in belonging to the larger number of the ignorant class. Very few have the courage to march to their own tune, if indeed they are allowed to do so.

The thinking ability along with the physiological advantage of small motor skills, allowed the primal humans to gradually evolve to the stage that they seem to understand and control a good part of our physical world today.

But the path was long an torturous. The thinking ability evolved as the simplest conclusions from observable facts turned out to be wrong with newer observations, and forced us to form newer conclusions only to break away from them again and again. These days we even recognize that the very process of observation can cause changes in what is being observed – what lasting conclusions can we draw then?

Somewhere along the way, we had found the need to stick together for our survival, safety, and a degree of well-being. Whereas the bulk of us seemed to be more confused with every new experience, some selected few seemed to draw better conclusions from the same observations. Those “chosen“ ones would go on to become the wise men of our clans and tribes. They would be the people whose accumulated knowledge would protect and help the rest of us. We would seek their inputs in times of need. They would interpret the phenomena that scared us, even predict what we needed to do for our own safety and good.

But it could not and would not be foolproof. The predictions of our wise men, like the behavior of Nature herself, seemed to be temperamental. So we learned to fear our leaders, as we feared our gods.

The wise men themselves had discovered the advantages of being held in esteem. They could make rules to be followed by others. They could have their followers enforce those rules on unwilling others. They could proclaim that their truth was more true than that seen by others.

The more people accepted your truth, the more true your truth became. Facts and non-facts had transitioned into truth and falsehood, and then into virtue and sin, holy and unholy. The seeds of religion making and conversions had been sown.

As the tribes increased in population and dispersed, the spoken word of the wise-cum-holy men, by necessity, had to travel far and wide, enjoying the distortions that contributed to the earliest myths, legends and superstitions. Some of our holy men were wise enough to want to prevent the potentially conflicting distortions. Better still, it gave them the rationale to acquire the produce created by others’ hard work, merely because their truth was different. Might had always been right, but now it acquired a supernatural aura.

We had also progressed from food gatherers to food cultivators. In the process, we were now enjoying a degree of comfort that was unknown before, provided we could become part of a social system that would produce and share its fruit. Loyalty to the group’s beliefs and value system was an essential part of the bargain. We had thus developed a vested interest in perpetuating the myths, legends and superstitions that the leaders of our society had given us. The rulers also needed others who would create their own myths, so long as they protected the interest of the rulers. So would we have kings whose rule was sanctioned by the gods. We would have kings who would be direct descendants of the Sun, the Moon, or other symbols of power and glory.

Even today, and despite all the progress, all the accumulated knowledge, all those improvement in communication, not much has changed as far as the need to believe is concerned.

We know that the more we know, the more we realize how little we know. The need for wise men therefore continues. Our wise men are not necessarily holy these days (the blasphemy laws are there in several countries to ensure just that), but they are smart enough to interpret our scriptures for us, thereby saving us from the trouble of thinking. They need the superstitions, myths and legends as much as we do.

If it is any consolation, the modern west is not immune to the need for myths, legends and superstition either. They also have their weeping Madonna, as the Hindus have their milk-sipping Ganesha and ... well, I will leave it at that.

J #13:

ouch!

---t

Jeeze, Temporal, you are really touchy about this. For me all of my fiction writings are works in progress. I change things around even after the stuff is published somewhere, that`s me.

And it`s not like the paragraphs in question are grammatically or otherwise horrendous.They need tweaking, I`ll be the first to admit that. I am not a fiction editor, just someone who dabbles in writing, so there are occasionally going to be problems. I accept that and move on.

As for you busting your whatever to meet your deadlines, I am impressed with your dedication, but that`s your business and I am glad for you.

Peace

Jawahara #11:

Intriguing -- `work in progress` -- and where is it leading?

And, ``Just wanted to see how people reacted to it, and fix the other problems later.``

And here I was breaking (expletive deleted) to fix something for the umpteenth time because the dealine is round the corner;)

So you use Chowk to get the feedback only -- and I rely on friends away from public scrutiny to vilify or critique what I write. May be I should change that and ........

regards, love

t

Aah Temporal, I should have known.:-) Yes, those paragraphs are a bit awkward still. Put it down to sloppy proof-reading/editing for this work in progress. Just wanted to see how people reacted to it, and fix the other problems later.

Thanks, though.

Jawahara:

I winced!

(Sorry, am pre-occupied with some mundane things and have not been present here.)

You are a pro. What is happening here?

Paragraphs 6,7,15,21,23,32,43,49 & 50. There must be an explanation somewhere.

rgds,

t


PS: Enjoyed the story. Your passion to the craft always shows through.

Essensaur:

Wow, what a weird, bone-chilling story. Legends and myths are fascinating, even the ones rooted in real human tragedy.

While we might spend time discussing the debatable merits of superstition there is evidently something in them that makes people believe. And believe to the exclusion of logic and intellect and, apparently morals and ethics. What is that I wonder?

Any guesses?

Children look at curious goings-on with a clarity and detachment that can be amazing. Unlike adults, they are not handicapped either by the momentum of events or by the prevailing ethos, and so retain their young dignity unfazed.

The little lady in the story did not feel obliged to sip the “teerath” from the Angootha Baba. Nor did she judge the many others acting to the contrary. You do your thing, I do mine.…

She did not feel obliged to correlate the finding of the ring to the Baba’s blessing. Those were two separate events to her. What could have been one more success story in the legendary Baba’s ongoing saga, was to her merely a good day, worth may be twenty rupees instead of the good enough ten.

Yes, one ought to feel proud of the individuality, dignity and cool pragmatism of the eleven-year old. It was both, funny and precious. No surprise that she grew up into an enlightened author who not only displays the same acceptance of diversity, but seems to celebrate it through her writings. Thank you, Jawahara.

This story ended happily enough. But the subcontinent abounds in myths, legends and superstition, which can find sustenance in stunning and macabre ways.

Hope the readers will forgive me for the example I am about to quote from a 15-20 year old news report. The news item was reported from Poona, and published in the international news media.

Four young tribal men had been tried for the murder of a little girl in some rural area called Maanvat, convicted, and condemned. Two other accused were released for lack of evidence. One of those freed was a village-level political leader of a national party. The other was his keep of many years, who had never borne a child. Someone, supposedly possessing occult powers, had suggested a remedy. The woman would bear a child if a virgin girl of a certain age was sacrificed on a moonless night. According to the prosecution, the couple had hired the convicted four to conduct the ritual.

The news item was disgusting enough. But the worst part of the episode was yet to come. The same day that the murderers met their fate, the woman for whose sake the murder was committed, was reported to have conceived.

And so, yet another myth was reinforced.

Narain, yes, there was an Angootha Baba in Allahabad. I regret though, that I was personally never in the presence of the great toe.:-)

And Ras, this happy ending is just for you. So there.

A simple story, told so beautifully! Congratulations!

Jawahara, is there some element of truth in your story? I seem to remember my Nana ji telling me about a baba whom he used to go and see in Allahabad. Apparently he too was blessed in much the same way as the narrator in the story (the toe press), and again with much beneficial effects.

Happy One, believe it or not, I really have not read that much of Rushdie. Besides Angootha Baba did not have giant toes, just well, kind of a big one. And he actually was quite a fixture in Allahabad at one time, though I never saw him. I did pester my parents to take me but they did not see the value in his darshan as I did. But, yes, Indira Gandhi did make the trip and many in my fair city attributed her subsequent win to Angootha Baba.:-)

A long awaited story, with even a happy ending
from possibly the best prose writer on CHOWK.
Enjoyed this one very much.

Ras

Dear Jawahara,

Your stories are beautifully hewn and probe deep in all directions.... Always a pleasure to read you!

An aside... what`s with the stories involving anomalously large parts of legs? Huge toe, huge feet.... very Rushdiesque (remember Shiva with the monster knees?). You had the widow with streaked hair to boot... like a guest appearance/ oblique reference to Rushdie. Was this before or after the demise of the labia lipped son? :)

Dil maange more :-), of Shireen bibi and her admonishments, esp..

Sadhana

beautifully written. thank you

shandana