In Hindu mythology, there are three worlds, three goddesses and three
gods.
The three gods are Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, who create, sustain and
destroy, respectively. What is most baffling about this triad is that
the sustainer and destroyer are worshipped, never the creator.
Illustration: Jayachandran / Mint
Illustration: Jayachandran / Mint
The root of this perplexity lies in a template that spellbinds the
modern mind. It is the Western template, informed greatly by the Bible,
where god is the creator, making the devil the destroyer. To understand
the Hindu trinity, one needs to break free from this Western template.
The world Brahma creates is not the objective world. Hindu seers had
scant regard for the objective, measurable reality. They believed that
the human mind is so prejudiced that it can never ever truly break free
from the fetters of bias. They focused their explorations on subjective
reality, the virtual image of the world that every individual constructs
in his or her mind.
Data for this mental image of the world comes from the five senses. It
is then shaped by prejudices, both positive and negative, which in turn
is informed by memories and dreams, both pleasurable and painful. This
is Brahmanda, Brahma's world. This makes each and every breathing person
a Brahma. Hence the Vedic maxim: aham brahmasmi, I am Brahma.
We are creators of our subjective world. Our behaviour is a function of
this constructed world of ours. While most of us construct a finite
prejudiced world view, it is theoretically possible to construct an
infinite unprejudiced world view. He who does that becomes one with the
brahman, divinity itself. Until then, we remain Brahmas, unworshipped
creators. Life is a journey from construction of Brahmanda to its
deconstruction, from creation to destruction, from Brahma to Shiva.
Our constructed world has three components, visualized as the three
goddesses: the material component or Lakshmi; the intellectual component
or Saraswati; the emotional component or Durga. LSD, in short! As we
seek to make sense of our lives, we chase LSD. Though the goddesses
belong to no one, we seek to possess them, control their flow, make them
predictable and dependable, though to our dismay they remain independent
and whimsical.
Lakshmi matters, because she is wealth, health and fortune. She is
critical to our survival. But survival alone is not motivation enough.
Besides "L" we seek Durga, emotional gratification. We yearn for
significance; we yearn to feel good about ourselves, we want to believe
we matter. That is why we are not content acquiring and securing food,
clothing and shelter. We want to feel important in the social order of
things, in our family, among friends and peers. Hence, the desire to
enhance our careers, increase our influence in society and expand our
business empires.
The pursuit of material and emotional gratification becomes an
addiction. Growth is never enough to guarantee survival or satiate
significance. One feels as if one is running on a treadmill of
unpredictable speed. If you don't keep up, you will fall. Fear of the
fall keeps us running. As Brahmanda expands, it splits into three. This
is Tripura, the three worlds, comprised of who we are, what we possess
and what we do not possess. In other words: me, mine and others'.
Invariably, "me and mine" matters more than "others'". In our myopic
vision of the world, we delude ourselves that "others" exist only to
ensure the survival and significance of "me and mine". This delusion is
rooted in our scant regard for Saraswati, the "S" of LSD, who constantly
draws attention to the other Vedic maxim: tat tvam asi, you are Brahma
too.
In delusion, we forget that others around us are also constructing their
own subjective realities, harbouring similar ambitions of survival and
significance, and having their very own Tripura. In other peoples'
Brahmanda, our "me and mine" is relegated to the world they address as
"others".
When my Brahmanda expands at the cost of your Brahmanda, conflict is
inevitable. We end up as beasts fighting over territory. We end up
playing the game "dog and bone" and find glory in being the alpha male.
At the core of this game is human fear of insignificance. This fear
fuels our cupidity. This fear makes us go to war.
With his third eye, Shiva destroys Kama or cupidity, burns the three
worlds and smears his forehead with three horizontal lines of ash. That
he holds in his hand a trident, three blades united at the staff, is a
reminder that the Tripura is a manmade construct born of human fear and
imagination, and not a natural construction. That he demands offerings
of Bilva sprigs, constituted of three leaves joined at the base, is a
reminder that true happiness comes when we balance our craving for
survival and significance with sensitivity for others. Lakshmi and Durga
without Saraswati will not work.
Vishnu facilitates this journey from Brahma to Shiva. Peace will come
only when we empathize with others, when we realize that everyone is in
the same boat, fearful Brahmas grappling with existential angst. From
empathy comes dharma, elaborated in the epics, the Ramayana and the
Mahabharata, where—as Ram and Krishna—Vishnu demonstrates the human
ability to overpower the animal instinct to dominate, and make room for
the helpless and the unfit. Only when we care for the other, will we
stop being territorial beasts. Only then will LSD be shared rather than
hoarded. Only then will we achieve what is aspired for in the triple
chant that concludes all Hindu rituals: shanti, shanti, shanti-hi.
--
http://www.fastmail.fm - Faster than the air-speed velocity of an
unladen european swallow