Lose Your Dreams and You Will Lose Your Mind

What makes a person an individual? Their name? Their body? Their own qualities, their intellect, their soul? Their religion, or lack thereof, their way of life…what?

The name is a provision we make to organise things better. Associating a person with their name is something we do simply to escape the chaotic mix-up that would arise if everyone and everything went about nameless. But you may argue, may you not, that that is exactly what is required – isn’t the act of naming, after all, setting something apart from something else, making it distinct, separate, independent?  And that is the cornerstone of being ‘individual’ – being different. But what we call a person might be the name to millions of others. Then doesn’t the distinctness vanish into thin air? Moreover, a person can be called anything: any name at all.

The body, too, is illusory. The body is like a shadow – you wouldn’t associate your being with your shadow, how then can you associate it with your body? Don’t you relinquish the body at the moment of your death?

But the trickier aspect is this: a person with their own unique qualities, opinions, aspirations. Of course, these differ from person to person – and therefore, you may safely assume that this after all, is what makes a person different from the person next door. And you’d be right. But what if you happen to change your opinions (opinions can be temporary), shift your interests, replace your desires? Then that would, by our definition, be nothing short of being another person.

And yet you are not another person. You are just you. This is the heart of the matter: being you. Being – we call it existing. Existence, in one form or the other, is still existence. That is what we mean by ‘soul’. My definition of soul is a simple and short one. I call it the ‘essence of existence’. Soul is the heart of existing, one way in which humans differ from computers: we know that we exist. That existence, and the knowledge of that existence, is what it means to have a soul.

It is, in effect, what it means to have an identity. I consider identity and individuality to be two different things. A metaphor explains this quite simply: Water is, by definition, a shapeless, flowing, substance. When that same water becomes ice, it acquires a shape, and doesn’t flow. When that ice is heated it again becomes water, and that same water upon heating changes into gas. At every stage, the properties vary according to the form. The form is changing but no-one doubts the existence of the substance. Water, in liquid, solid, or gaseous form, is still there. And you don’t have to call it water – you may as well call it ice or gas or orange juice. So at every stage, in each of its forms, it has a unique set of qualities. Volume, mass, shape, fluidity, transparency, each of them peculiar to the respective form. That is individuality. The fabric of uniqueness. But in spite of everything, in spite of all the change, the water continues to exist, continues to be. That is identity.

And in the end, it all boils down to this: Wherever you may come from, whatever you may be called, whoever you may be related to, however you are, whatever you may become, you won’t stop being you.

It is entirely possible for tomorrow to not arrive. It is easy, say, for humanity to wipe itself clean off the surface of the earth by nuclear warfare, or get wiped off by one of the natural calamities we have been instrumental in creating ourselves.

Either way, the conclusion is the same.

Lately, every major political leader, in every country of the world, has been screaming from the rooftops for World Peace. World what? Peace, you say? Well, you’re fooling yourselves, folks, for you’re as near as getting world peace as My Chemical Romance are towards being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

What right do people in power have to demand peace, anyway? It’s them who demand peace while plotting to wage wars, who keep on babbling away about human rights while violating them from the first day of assuming office themselves, who don’t see any difference between making speeches and making weapons. It’s easy enough for them to talk peace, demand peace, propagate peace, market peace, while peace is something that they’ve never had and never wanted. While the Darfur conflict gets keeping worse and worse, the people who are in position to stop it continue to sit and close their eyes. US still hasn’t drawn troops out of Iraq. Suicide-bombers are being manufactured like packets of cereals. You show me one of these politicos who want peace who are prepared for it.

What about people who do care? Who, truly and genuinely, want the world to be a better place? Are they seeking an ideal that doesn’t exist? Are they being optimistic and foolish? If optimism if foolish, how does pessimism make things better? If you’re an optimist, you obviously want things to get better and hate the current mess it is in; if you’re a pessimist, you still hate it. So whether optimistic or pessimistic, we all agree on one thing: the world’s current situation sucks. (Oh yes, even the optimists, for being an optimist doesn’t mean that you have to see the bright side and ignore the dark side altogether.) That much is certain.

The 1960s saw the peace movement in various parts of the world, but half a century later, we’re no better off. Where does the problem lie? Is it illogical for peace to be possible at all? Okay, hang on, we’re not talking about something abstract here, we’re talking about our lives, for fuck’s sake. Then is it to do with the framework of international policy? Partly, so ably outlined by George Bush: If you’re not with us, you’re against us.

Oh, then there’s this bloody religion business. My God is better than yours. How convenient! Brainwash the masses into hating each other for having a faith different than their own. Religious fanatics will do anything for proclaiming superiority of their respective religions; they’ll kill for it, die for it, anything but live and let live for it.

But when you take it all together, it all boils down to one single thing. Power. It’s power what drives politicians and policies, religions and races. The two World Wars were wars over power. The holocaust and Hitler’s ‘Final Solution’ were the direct outcomes of his thirst for power. The Cold War, the gold rush, the dot com burst, you name it. Aren’t they all to do with humanity’s never-ending quest for power?

The ruthless force that makes men shine like stars, or crushes them to dust. Isn’t it strange, when Nature had already made us the most powerful species from the start? There’s power and there’s money, that loom over the earth as bullies, making people commit stupid, cowardly things. Power is a bully that creeps in and intimidates us in every decision or choice: even the choice of survival, for natural selection itself is a fight for power.

And there you have it. There’s nothing you can do about it – hunger for power is hardwired into our brains. And power isn’t a bad thing in itself – it’s its handling that plays the devil. So as long as there’s fighting over power, there’ll never be world peace. So the question facing folks everywhere today – politicians, economists, philosophers – is how to control the balance of power and guarantee lasting peace. Marx asked the same question and said the solution was a classless society where the Power was to the People. But hey, the Soviet Union didn’t work out, did it?

Dictatorship, democracy, anarchy…what really is the best way of making power make way for peace? The solution seems elusive…one hundred and ninety-five countries, various cultures, and contradictory socio-economic conditions. Dictatorship is definitely off the list. Democracy is reckoned to be the best way of governance so far but then what is to account for bureaucratic selfishness and shortsightedness?

And anarchy…I’m not sure that it’s the best way - indeed, even if it is a good way at all - but it seems to me that anarchy is the only system which puts faith in humans’ capability to govern themselves, not by a bunch of people that supposedly represent them. It trusts them enough for them to practise freedom - but then just where do we draw the line between the required and excessive freedom? And would that freedom be preserved at all and not be culminated into another dictatorship? Is it possible to eliminate the element of power after all?

Ah, maybe I’ll just leave it to the economists until I can work out a theory of my own ;]

Finally, after a month and half of suspense, trepidation and much-felt regret, it’s all behind me.

I am not in worry anymore.
I am not in debt (money-wise or otherwise) anymore.
I am not in love anymore (if it was love in the first place).

I am free.

God knows I’ve had enough to deal with in the past few months. But now it’s all over and done with and I’ve promised myself not to whine over things for a while.

I’ve been wondering why it is that when everything seems to be going on smoothly in life, half a dozen problems and troubles come rolling down like boulders, and you go blank in the face of it. And then, as time passes, those boulders pass away too, and you emerge, sometimes scathed, sometimes not; but you emerge out of it anyway.

One thing I’ve learnt is that, when these problems do come our way, we feel their terror as they approach us, getting nearer and nearer all the time; but when they finally do arrive, a strange kind of feeling - I don’t know what it is, courage or  something else -  takes charge and it only begins to seem as a matter of time.

Sometimes life hits you on the head with a brick. Some of us manage to stay cool in its face and come up with an elegant solution, while some of us (like me) panic, get jumpy over little things, get knocked down, stumble, fall, get back up again, and staggering, tottering, wobbling, faltering end up fumbling our way through.

Exams over at last, thank God. It was unbearably frustrating to take such a long break from writing.

No more revision, at least until for a week.

But until that time comes, I’m going to read, write and listen to music more than I’d been doing previously. Really, intellectual freedom matters. And I’m going to see Iron Maiden in a few days’ time! Can’t wait. (Also have to remember to get a new Maiden T shirt.)

Wheyyy. I’m unusually happy (but I have a feeling this happiness is going to be short-lived). Talk about the calm before the storm. Oh well, but I guess I’ll make the most of these times anyway.

Until very recently I used to be in a fit of nerves whenever there were exams approaching. I’d abandon the usual routine, IMing, listening to music, painting, evening walks by the beach. I’d take them very seriously. But now I’ve come to realise that exams are not as important as I made them out to be all my life. At least, not these kind of exams. The kind that the world thinks are incredibly important for a person to make their lives successful. You have to race through the textbooks, learn whatever is specified in the syllabus, and then pour everything out on paper in a given period of two or three hours. Is this the kind of thing that determines how much far in life you’ll go?

How can you test anything by that? If people want to do that, why don’t they see the whole world as a learning source for students, instead of half a dozen textbooks? Wouldn’t you learn much better this way?

Everyone I know thinks I’m barking mad to have such a kind of view, but I know I’m right anyway. I just wish people were a bit open minded. But until I can make people see sense, I have to give my best on this one.

Biology seems impossible, chemistry OK, physics great as ever, maths more awesome than usual. Languages are in the bag.

They’re just a week away! I wish I had more time until I could be sure I was completely perfect with everything. But perhaps the perfect never arrives. Or perhaps does arrive in time but you refuse to notice it and you continue with your endless attempts.

I can’t believe I’m getting philosophical even on exams.

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Now playing: Anathema - Temporary Peace
via FoxyTunes

Spanning the painter with his headful of fancies and whims, the politician with his lies and propaganda or a pornstar with their confessions, you can look back on a person’s life through their memories.

A memory is a stock of opinions, an accumulation of experiences, and a mass of knowledge. Something that you can share with others; and yet be able to claim to be uniquely yours forever. A memory is like a museum, a book or a fairytale – it fits all these metaphors nicely. It gives great pleasure to trod along the corridors of that museum, ruffle through the pages of that book or lose your mind in that fairytale.

A memory is a pool to dive in and get lost.

This pool is so enormous so immense, you yourself aren’t aware of what may lie within the walls of your mind. Catch up with a long-standing friend and immediately a ‘Remember when…?’ follows. Remember when we challenged the school bully? Remember when we fought over our belongings? Remember when we stayed up all night and partied until six in the morning? An endless stream of Remember-Whens, -Hows and –Whats follows.

A song that you loved to listen to as a child or even the kind of shampoo you used brings back memories of the days gone by. Their sounds, their smells and their sights – all these trigger off the memories associated with a particular incident. And once they begin to surface, you realise with a shock that your mind had been retaining these memories all along.

It’s quite amazing just how much the brain stores. The left hemisphere of your brain holds the factual accounts whereas the right hemisphere contains your emotional recollections. Your brain’s left hemisphere knows the name of the first book you read (even if you don’t remember it now) but your right hemisphere will know how you felt on your first day at school. Recent research in brain surgery and neurology has brought up some interesting results. For example, upon stimulating certain areas of the brain, you may suddenly remember a long-forgotten kindergarten teacher or your old room.

One may wonder what one can do with all these memories. Famous people record them down to allow a glimpse into their lives for future generations and to preserve their identities. And the not-so-famous people can make use of their memories as a never ending reservoir of inspiration and insight. Time and again you can draw ideas and stimulation from your past. It is a well known fact that many writers base at least some of the elements of their story or their characters on their own lives’. You can use memories capture a part of yourself and rediscover it when you want. And of course, you can engage in memories simply for the joy nostalgia; and the thrill of reminiscence.

Memories can be good or memories can be bad, but a memory will remain forever, the storehouse of your own personal history.

That’s what my biology professor told me when I sought to ask her about the possibilities of ‘thought-waves’ or ‘thought-energy’ in relation to the clinical death of the brain.

I couldn’t help asking what she meant by her stupid remark. She was of the opinion that I was concerning myself with matters that were ‘far too advanced than what I ought to be learning at this age.’ Excuse me? It’s never too early or too late to learn or explore something new. I could have told her this, but what’s the point, I thought, in arguing with a person who sees it fit to equate knowledge with age?

Apart from the fact that she displayed her close-mindedness (despite of being a teacher) to discuss a new idea, I think that’s a really vicious thing to say to any student. What is wrong with teachers today? They’re dissuading us from veering off course from what’s written in the textbooks. Does anyone honestly believe that all the knowedge on a particular subject can be contained within the covers of a textbook?

Which brings me to the question, why do so many people - sadly, teachers included - disapprove questioning the conventional, the ordianry, the tested or speculating on the unproven and the unknown? I am so utterly disappointed that everywhere it seems as if people have forgotten to be inquisitive. Everyone takes things for granted. Why? Opinions are almost formed, packaged, and fed into the society - and many people seem to think that’s good enough for them. And why do so many students face opposition or general disapproval when taking out the unconventional route? Or for that matter, anyone who ever goes with a unconventional method - be it in business, science or even relationships?

Punishment isn’t the worst aspect of a teacher’s behaviour, is it? I’d say the worst thing that a teacher can do is to suppress a child’s curiosity. Once you lose sight of that quality, you’ve lost sight on the essence of all true art, of all true science, of life itself. A teacher needs to see things from a child’s perspective. If you go around propagating the usual ways of doing things what you’re doing is almost killing originality - and merely causing innumerable carbon copies of the same thing disguised in innumerable forms.

We’ve all heard stories of independent, unconventional, original thinkers encoutering criticism and ridicule all too often before. Who hasn’t heard of the exploits of Einstein or Edison in school? But I think it’s about time we learned practise tolerance on the difference of opinions or viewpoints. Though this does happen but we don’t encouter it in daily life that much. Teachers and parents should take a leaf out of the corporate firms’ books - where independent and orginal thinking is the norm.

Whoever said that you have to confine yourself to what society thinks is ‘thinkable or ‘unthinkable’ or even to what it considers is thinking ‘too much or ‘too little’? Which brings back to me a quote I read somewhere:

If we do what we’ve always done. we’ll get what we’ve always got.

I attended a physics conference yesterday, which later included stargazing and a quiz, which they’d arranged in honour of Stephen Hawking’s 66th birthday.

I felt that pleasant jolt and wild enthusiasm (that I generally get during every talk involving physics) when I reached the venue half an hour early. But I was a bit disappointed that they had limited it to stuff dealing with basic physics. What they had was a general background of physics and its history.

I was quite happy with the stargazing and stuff. We marked constellations and observed Mars and several stars through telescopes. They gave us loads of advice on the best approach of astronomy, its evolution and history. I am quite overwhelmed by the amount of knowledge already gleaned in this field and even more so by that of the countless questions and puzzles that need to be solved. Astronomy is the oldest of all sciences, and it has been with us for all this time. The sky is like a book that faithfully opens each day when the sun goes down and lies before us to be examined. There’s so much to observe, so much to speculate on, that all the squinting, pointing, and mapping can never be enough.

The most important thing required for study in astronomy is patience, they said. This, they told me, especially applied to myself, because I kept constantly interrupting them with questions and doubts throughout. I know I should contain myself a bit more, but I can’t really help it! My neck was a bit strained with all the watching and observing and I earned a few funny looks with my wild exclamations whenever I spotted something, but apart from that, I had a really good time and the telescopes were enviable, considerably larger and more powerful than my own.

Stephen Hawking says that if we ever find a theory that describes the whole universe - which is the main goal of science today - it should be able to be unsderstood by everyone: this is how I myself have always viewed as the purpose of all science. I’ve loved him (and all other men of science haha) since I was like six. It’s such a pity that of all the people he had to get ALS. It’s amazing how he’s stuck to his passion all his life, and it’s been said he doesn’t view his physical disability as a great barrier after all - the brain remains every bit as ingenious as it ever was. *sigh* I’d die to meet him!

I wish I’d have conferences like these more often (although I would prefer them to be dealing with stuff more than the basic things of course). I would have been overjoyed if we had had a discussion cutting directly to the core of physics. For example, we’d have elaborated a bit more on relativity and quantum mechanics. String theory was left out completely. And also a whole tête-à-tête on side-issues involving time travel, black holes, antiparticles, dark matter and energy, the beginning, expansion and end of the universe, and dualities. A general background on metaphysics would have been an added bonus. And of course, developments on the unified field theory. Perhaps that is asking a bit too much, but, when it comes to physics, you can’t have enough of it after all!