I read Shekhar Kapur’s blog today and he talked about something that we all feel at one time or another.We have questions like What is the world like,What is the Universe,Who are we and so on unless the final one comes as it did to Swami Raman Maharishi Why are we ?
We had more of these than our children will have as everyday during summers we used to sleep under open skies with Surahi’s by the bedside as Shekhar has pointed out.Everyday you kept looking at the stars above and how so much silly you were one day you would ask yourself What is this black thing on top of us with points twinkling all the time.They never sleep.Do they ?
Then you start looking out for answers.Mine came from my sister who has perhaps got the largest collection of books on this subject.The funny thing is that she is looking for the answers in science which itself is looking for answers.But yes at that point in time she was my Astrophysics guide and I got the answer till the next question came.
I am giving below the link to his website and my comment.
Enjoy and Wonder.
Below is my comment :
Your woodcutter story reminded me of a similar story I read from one of OSHO’s books on intelligence.There was a prince who was feeling sleepy but could not sleep so he walked and walked and came to a large palace with 1000 rooms.He was looking for a place to sleep.He went to the first room and it was empty,the second and it had nothing ,and on and on he went till he came to the 999 th room.There he found a beautiful bed made of feathers with white satin sheets and golden pillows.He was so tired that he slept and when he did he dreamt that he was standing at the gate of a huge palace with 1000 rooms.He was felling very sleepy so he went to the first room and there s nothing…..and on and on it goes. I use the story to put my children to sleep and it always works.I bore them to sleep. I guess that’s what we keep doing with our intelligence all our lives.As Omar Khayyam says :
And that inverted bowl we call the sky,
where under crawling coop’t we live and die,
Lift not thy hands to it for help –
for it Rolls impotently on ….as thou or I.
Me thinks this Wheel at which we gape and stare,
Is Chinese lantern – like we buy at fair;
The lamp is Sun and paper shade the world,
And we the pictures whirling unaware. .
The Skies rotate, I cannot guess the cause;
And all I feel is grief, which in me gnaws;
Surveying all my life, I find myself
The same unknowing dunce that once I was!