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परमात्मने नमः

A week before turning 51 and having extra time available owing to the global period of great misery unfolding before the eyes, this blog - to reminisce about earlier years, but finding the relevance to the present moment - is duly begun.

The language I employ may be formal and long winded but I confess two things up front.  Firstly, that English is a poor medium of communication and the fact that I am currently condemned to converse mainly in this language is seen as proof of transgression in earlier lives.

Secondly, that the modern use of English in such a crude manner as is witnessed in social media "speak" together with "emojis" and the like is nothing more than the normal degradation of a language, as seen with Latin, Greek, Hindi and others, but not seen in Sanskrit.

How is this biographical?

Well, from an early age I wanted to learn Sanskrit and had to wait until in university before being exposed to it. And the third initial point - my mind and outlook (possibly due to a Libra ascendant) want to frame ideas in Sanskrit.  And so with my usual habit of preamble and tedious scene setting, I turn to the memories recently flooding back of Primary School in Apartheid South Africa.  This is probably around the time I first heard of Sanskrit.

I had spent the early part of my life in the belief that I would take holy orders and enter a monastery or possibly a parish.  I knew the Catholic catechism and major rituals very well and was even then exhibiting a seeking for a spiritual path.  In this setting, I entered Religious Instruction Class one morning and the discussion was on Genesis and the events after leaving the Garden of Eden.  I raised my hand and asked "There is something I have never understood: If Cain and Abel were the sons of Adam and Eve, and Cain was exiled and went to a city, where did this city full of people and potential wives come from?  Who were these people?"  The teacher (Mrs. van Zyl, a lady of around 50) stared at me with open mouth.  "Well," she said, "They were also descendants of Adam and Eve."

I countered this "But they had time to build whole cities and breed that much even though Cain had just been exiled? How old was he?"  Well, Mrs. van Zyl was now very flustered. "You stop this!" she shouted. "You must just trust what you are told."  This did not sit well within - always, the motivation had been, at least for the most part up until that point, been driven by this inner "sense of right" - what may possibly be termed "Conscience."  I did not continue speaking then, but did not drop the idea...

Sometime soon after this, we started Sotho classes, Sotho being the language more prevalent in the communities around Carletonville.  During these classes, the teacher would often berate the Black people.  One day she said "These k*****s are so lucky white people came here. Before us, they had not food or clothing."  Again I asked "If Black people did not have food, how could they survive for so many generations?"  If Mrs van Zyl had been flustered, Mrs Kruger went ballistic.  Who was I, a child of 8 or 9 to question authority?  How dare I?  What did I know.?  Well all I knew was that I was right.  Without food the concept of generations is meaningless.

The general effect of these and other similar episodes caused me to quesition authority.  There have been three exceptions to this, men whom I would follow unquestioningly.  The first, Nelson Mandela - selfless.  Then Leon MacLaren - the Self Knower. And lastly Anton Voorhoeve - whose presence was like a vast still and tranquil lake of Bliss.

Now I have sons. Is it natural, or contrary that I desire them to exceed me in their manner. go beyond where I have been so to speak.

I believe that these three would feel the same towards those who happened to be in their care.

ॐ तत् सत्