hbacharya
04-20-2007, 11:12 PM
I am amidst a heap of books and and remain confused to choose a good one from a bad one. Again a question crops up. How do we know a good book from abad book? This again raises a question of values. Whose judgement we subscribe to regarding values?
The milieue I was born in was a totally religious one. There were sermons, chantings and prayers. Mine was a fertile mind and any seeds of ideas could germinate in my arable fertile mind. You can imagine the state of mind I grew up with. Religions, myths, heavens, gods, satans, sins and virtues and all the rest of prescribed regious ideas stuffed in my cerebrals.
This is not a confession or expression of personal ideas and autobiographical notes and if I make one it will be foolhardy, for I am not a celeb. Yet I hold the fact that everybody could be a teacher and the difference lies not in the range of expereince one undergoes but in the lack of technique to give form to ideas and expereinces. Men of letters - writers, poets, politicains have words and can form metaphors and imagges of their ideas and experiences and the commoner is not skilled to do and suffers the lack of words.
Here the point is: born into a world of orthodoxies I have been an orthodox Hindu with a Brahmanic leaning. That was not my choice. It was entirely the setting I was in. The environment I was brought up in accounts for what i am and considerably all that I do - good or bad as well.
I have been bookish. With books I had to shed my wings of imagination. The more I have secured my position among scholors, the more i becamed distainced from realities, not that being far from being realitiesd I hemmed in a world of imagination. No I was plunged into a world of illusions. That was the loss of imagination.
My mind could not take wings of imagination, and I got rooted to a world of bookish knowledge and wherein one sees nothing but a variety of delusions, not a pinch of imagination.
That was the state of my mind.
Now I am mature enough to decide over things for myself but there will come in a series of interferences in my thinking processes. It is my parents, teachers, and the rest of other seniors that come in that sequence and order to form, influence, shape the way I think and I live leading to the erosion of my own self. Personality is something totally an artificial stuff, and there is no originality in personality, and one borrows lumps and heaps of ideas and keep on accumulating them endless to be re- born into a man of personality, i.e., a stack or bundle of fideas.
This is a recount of what formed my personality and my disposition that I could expose to you now thru this forum.
Now I want books that can help me unlearn things, unburden myself and so that i can freely and unboundedly and unabatedly take flights in imagination eternally and to re-gain wings
Tolstoy is really appealing. So are the ideas of J.K Krishnamurti, Osho, Gibran, the poems of Rumi, the Tao Path, Zen Buddhism. the philosophy of Nagarjun.
Now I am drugged and intoxicated into a world of books and liviing without them is a matter I can not think about, and this additiction is something I ca not wipe out at this juncture. Living without books leave me in an insomniac world.
I want the sorts books no matter who are they and no matter which country they come from that must liberate me from tangle of ideas, philosophies, religions, even spiritualism, values and all the rest of beleifs.
The intention is to return to a state of innocence. William Blake, one of the English poet has written the book entitled ' the Song of Innocence, that iI find highly appealing and absorbing.
Let us find books that gives a tinge of innocence, gallibility, ingenuousness.
When we can enable us to live in a state of simplicity, artlessness we will re-wing ourselves and can take flight in the sky of imagination. The way a child can trascend limits and frontiers of civilization.
The milieue I was born in was a totally religious one. There were sermons, chantings and prayers. Mine was a fertile mind and any seeds of ideas could germinate in my arable fertile mind. You can imagine the state of mind I grew up with. Religions, myths, heavens, gods, satans, sins and virtues and all the rest of prescribed regious ideas stuffed in my cerebrals.
This is not a confession or expression of personal ideas and autobiographical notes and if I make one it will be foolhardy, for I am not a celeb. Yet I hold the fact that everybody could be a teacher and the difference lies not in the range of expereince one undergoes but in the lack of technique to give form to ideas and expereinces. Men of letters - writers, poets, politicains have words and can form metaphors and imagges of their ideas and experiences and the commoner is not skilled to do and suffers the lack of words.
Here the point is: born into a world of orthodoxies I have been an orthodox Hindu with a Brahmanic leaning. That was not my choice. It was entirely the setting I was in. The environment I was brought up in accounts for what i am and considerably all that I do - good or bad as well.
I have been bookish. With books I had to shed my wings of imagination. The more I have secured my position among scholors, the more i becamed distainced from realities, not that being far from being realitiesd I hemmed in a world of imagination. No I was plunged into a world of illusions. That was the loss of imagination.
My mind could not take wings of imagination, and I got rooted to a world of bookish knowledge and wherein one sees nothing but a variety of delusions, not a pinch of imagination.
That was the state of my mind.
Now I am mature enough to decide over things for myself but there will come in a series of interferences in my thinking processes. It is my parents, teachers, and the rest of other seniors that come in that sequence and order to form, influence, shape the way I think and I live leading to the erosion of my own self. Personality is something totally an artificial stuff, and there is no originality in personality, and one borrows lumps and heaps of ideas and keep on accumulating them endless to be re- born into a man of personality, i.e., a stack or bundle of fideas.
This is a recount of what formed my personality and my disposition that I could expose to you now thru this forum.
Now I want books that can help me unlearn things, unburden myself and so that i can freely and unboundedly and unabatedly take flights in imagination eternally and to re-gain wings
Tolstoy is really appealing. So are the ideas of J.K Krishnamurti, Osho, Gibran, the poems of Rumi, the Tao Path, Zen Buddhism. the philosophy of Nagarjun.
Now I am drugged and intoxicated into a world of books and liviing without them is a matter I can not think about, and this additiction is something I ca not wipe out at this juncture. Living without books leave me in an insomniac world.
I want the sorts books no matter who are they and no matter which country they come from that must liberate me from tangle of ideas, philosophies, religions, even spiritualism, values and all the rest of beleifs.
The intention is to return to a state of innocence. William Blake, one of the English poet has written the book entitled ' the Song of Innocence, that iI find highly appealing and absorbing.
Let us find books that gives a tinge of innocence, gallibility, ingenuousness.
When we can enable us to live in a state of simplicity, artlessness we will re-wing ourselves and can take flight in the sky of imagination. The way a child can trascend limits and frontiers of civilization.