Making of A Pioneer

Working Within Limit ©
The first farmer who settled from a nomadic existence after a couple of bad starts, reproached the wind thus, ‘Didn’t you tell me to go ahead and plant wheat?” “Yes?”
“Because you gave your word that you are everywhere, I took you on your word and the result,- entire field ruined by water! “ “Oh, it was the clouds which brought on early showers” said the wind.
” Next season it was a drought that did me in” wailed the farmer. “Blame it on the sun,” said the wind. “Aw shucks, What benefit is to me that you are everywhere?”
To be everywhere is not to be anywhere in particular’. This is the result of two laws of Compensation and that of Negation.
Every one of us individually and collectively as species is subject to these two laws.
Our finite factor allows us only a fragmented view of Oneness. Bits and pieces of what Oneness means we know: our Me-factor consequentially is not put to its optimum use. Instead of drawing from Oneness direct we can only supplement for all shortfalls from what the law of compensation allows. Working within a limit we gain and also lose out. Success and Failure shall therefore have interchangeable values.
Al Gore lost out to President Bush in the Presidential elections in 2000 and that election shall ever remain a controversy and a blot on the escutcheon of American form of Democracy. While President Bush by exceeding ineptness made everything he touched turn to ashes what did Al Gore do? It gave him time to concentrate on environmental issues. By winning a Nobel prize in 2007 for Peace he brought the stature of America a little higher from the odium of a war-mongering nation.
Al Gore could handle defeat. By interacting with the rest in whichever way the laws may play off we create a body of evidence for ourselves. Thereby we establish our relevance.

benny

A Bermuda Triangle

The head of the family was an angel. So pure and highminded the Ancient of the Days called him one day and said,” Down to the earth you go!” He ordered,” this instant.”
Me- Righteous, the angel took the form of a Native Indian and before he could count the toes of his feet he had got a family and three children. What’s more he had Hurons for neighbors. Me-Righteous counselled Hurons how to plant corn and skin furs from otters; he taught them many useful things with which the tribe prospered. Naturally Me-Righteous become the patriarch. Everyday he taught his three sons: they were highminded, righteous and men of peace. One son taught the Hurons to trade and the second how to negotiate with those who were contrary. The third taught them to build settlements and manage lands. Under their guidance the tribe prospered. It was least expected but the French came to the scene and they had powerful muskets and technology that impressed the Hurons. They had to make peace with them in order to suvive. The Iroquois being envious of the Hurons instantly allied with the Dutch who also had firearms and lethal weapons.
Old Me-Righteous was old and by the time he woke up he found the whole area up in arms and blood was being shed wholesale. He called his three sons and faulted them for letting matter slide into blood feud.
“ How come you have failed me?” the old man asked in bitter tears.
“Oh father we shall answer you after you had answered the Great Spirit in the Blue Yonder,”replied the eldest son.
There is something mighty peculiar: We rear our children with the best of intentions and give them every advantage our moral sense is capable of. Yet we fail to stop the evil from coming in. A Bermuda triangle into which our ‘goodness’ disappears and none can be individually held responsible for.
benny

One That Didn't Make It-3

Here is a story, which I wrote sometime in 1996 when I first thought of writing the Life of Aesop. Till I had the book in its final form there were too many, more stories than I could have possibly used. In order to achieve a smooth flow of narration I had to discard many. So here is one such a piece of Aesopiana.
Home Improvement
Iadmon who came from the island of Samos was a very strange character whose bark as his slaves found out was worse than his bite. He became mellowed and friendlier but his greed still remained hard as flint and unchanged. Once he came home after a distress sale crowing what a killing he made.
His wife Eugenia took him to the task for his money grubbing. “Haven’t you have had enough?” she asked him in irritation.
Aesop was busy with making the master’s bed and none noticed that he was present. Iadmon said defensively,” I can’t help it, dear.” He added after looking at his wife with a sidelong glance. Aesop could see that he was embarrassed,” My father was poor as his father before him.”
“So what?” his wife shot back.
“Lack of money presses me. My patrimony was nothing but this need to make wealth.”
“You did it well. But must you overdo it?”
“Perhaps not.” Iadmon said, “ Why don’t you compliment for my perseverance and so many good qualities I have acquired?” “What is the point of looking for things which are visible? I can only speak what I have lost in you. It is for you to do something about it.”
Embarrassed Iadmon came out; seeing Aesop on the way he went on finding fault with his work. Suddenly he broke off, confused and muttering something. The slave with a grin said under breath,” He was fishing for compliments with his wife while I wasn’t even fishing for complaints!”

benny

Aesop Tells A Story

Aesop began as a slave in the household of an Athenian trader, by name Iadmon. One day he was amusing other slaves with a story. The story dealt with the Thirteenth Labor of Hercules. His master overheard the story and could not help laughing at the improbability of its plot.
Later in the evening the master called Aesop to entertain the family with a story.
The slave began,” In Athens was a wealthy farmer who was known Mr. Know All. He brought in a field hand who strangely enough, was called Mr. Know Nothing. From morning till evening the master drilled his new worker how he should do his tasks. But the worker went on doing his chores in his own way. “This is how I have done it some twenty years and I am set in my ways.” said he to himself. Of course it never came up half as much as his master expected.
That night Know All went home and over supper told his wife that the new field hand was proving more difficult than he imagined. Meanwhile the worker went to his quarters and told his wife that his master was a bigger fool than he thought him to be.
When asked to explain he said with shrug,” If he is such a Know All how come he did not see for what I am? To make it worse, he expects me to do his way. Why doesn’t he do it himself then?”
Iadmon at the end of the story asked his wife somewhat puzzled, “I wonder, did he mean to poke fun at me; he is a very subtle fellow.” His wife comforted him saying that a story need not upset him. “Dear, You know very well you are not a Know All. You know that and I also know that."
“Bah, what do you know?” he muttered crossly.
benny

An Armenian In Paris

Rabbi Benn Weiss followed me close as we made for the exit. “ I love Art and I know what I like.” he had said while staring at the canvasses long and hard.
We came out. He asked, “What makes Beauty? Is it what is unattainable?” I nodded. “Is it because it speaks truth?”
“Oh yes!” I said appreciatively, ”Rabbi, you will be a professional art critic if you stick around long enough. I am going to teach you.”
As we crossed the busy street to the Metro in front of an art store, my companion was for buying a few books to get himself started. “Forget books. Forget what that guide at the Gallery was telling you.” I told him, ”She was far out Rabbi, but she was a peach.”
Rabbi Benn Weiss glared at me at which I suddenly stopped short. Next moment I called out, “See that old lady! See her back is curved and how she leans on her stick?”
“Is that beauty?” my friend was skeptical.
“Why not?” I asked, “Does beauty only reside in a fine form and youth?” “Or does it in my perception of it?”
I was in the mood to explain. “ Think Rabbi Weiss, I do not know her from Adam. How come I suddenly think of my grandmother who has been dead for ages?”
“ She was the most precious thing to me,” I felt a lump in my throat,” she is unattainable. Yet this frail woman down on her last legs brought her image to me. If it isn’t beauty I am ready to listen you for a change.”
“Yes, if you say so, if you say so.” he said impressed, ”why don’t you write to your parents for a change? They’ve almost given you for lost.”
* Beauty is truth. Isn’t what sets us off on a train of thoughts- it could be a frail old or young thing, be connected somewhere? In our mind’s eye. We see a seashell and we think of Botticelli’s birth of Venus. That shell may be dirty on account of being trampled under many. Yet it becomes connected in our mind with a work of art; does it really matter the circumstances of the seashell as much what it represents? It still wears a kind of beauty that has acquired its sheen by our experience. Being old or a baby must thus possess beauty that we can only by our experience really appreciate. Truth of experience.
There are many theories on Aesthetics but without this basic truth it falls apart.
benny