In the winter of 1989, I visited Pune for the first time. I worked in the Defence Research & Development Laboratory, Hyderabad, as Project Manager for Airframe and System Integration in the ‘Akash’ missile project. I was sent to interact with engineers at the Research & Development Establishment (Engineers) in Dighi, in the northern suburbs of Pune. I spent a few days there, and one evening, walking through the crowded Budhwar Peth, I bought a book, Self and Others, by R.D. Laing. I had no idea about the book or the author. The title and the three overlapping circles on the cover attracted me, and I bought it. A Scottish psychiatrist, Laing,died that very year, which I would later know.  

This book gave me insights into how we are all created by the people around us. As a child grows, he is ‘told’ how to behave. Interestingly, this does not happen smoothly. The child ‘reacts’, and the people around respond differently to these reactions. Some children are cajoled and pampered, and others are scolded and punished. Many others are just ignored. By the time one becomes an adult, a thousand swings have happened from the one extreme – ‘I never asked to be born, leave me in peace’ to ‘I am all that exists, get out of my way’settling mainly on the middle ground of ‘live and let live’.

Later, I learned that German-American psychologist Karen Horney was the first to define the three-fold attitudes of human beings – moving toward, away from, and against others. Within this, three forces are hidden in various human behaviours and relationships, including parents and children,interactions between married couples, at the workplace, and even on the streets. Everyone is ‘attracted to’, ‘averse to’ and ‘hostile towards’ another individual. It is alright until these three responses are spontaneous and change according to the situation. Still, when they become ‘conditioned’ into habits, the behaviours become problematic, which psychologists call neuroticism.

I have seen how TV changed lives in the 1980s. The definition of ‘others’ expanded to include those we saw on TV. People were exposed to ideas, styles and fashions, which was earlier impossible. Then, the Internet came into the picture, and after it became available on mobile phones, social media created a new definition of ‘society’. In the past, contact was one-on-one primarily or one-to-many, and news spread through traditional media like TV and newspapers.Now, anyone worldwide can share their ideas and experiences in real–time and get feedback immediately. Thoughtful people could see how a few corporations made it happen, investing billions of dollars. But why have they provided us with all this?

 There are two books, ‘Anti-Oedipus’ and ‘A Thousand Plateaus’. Written by French authors Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari and published respectively in 1972 and 1980, both books have a similar subtitle: ‘Capitalism and Schizophrenia’, which provides the answer. The flow of capital and interest and the flow of desire are entwined. Behind every investment of time, interest and capital is an investment of desire, and vice versa. Why do we purchase anything? Out of necessity or out of desire? Is there ‘an invisible hand’ circulating money by making people earn and spend and creating profits for the ‘capitalists’ in every act of their lives?

The three terms – necessity, desire and wants, motivatepeople. Wise people know the difference between them; fools do not. Necessities are the essential requirements for survival and basic well-being. Everybody needs food, water, shelter and clothing. All must have protection from harm, a stable environment and health care. Some level of social interaction and support is necessary for mental health. Universal necessities are generally the same for everyone. Without these, survival and basic functioning are at risk. They are fundamental for life.

Desires are feelings of wanting something not necessary for basic survival but which is strongly yearned for. They are emotions, and they vary significantly among individuals. Desires drive people to set and pursue personal or professional goals and are a powerful motivating force for action and achievement. Wants are whimsical. They are primarily non-essential items or experiences that add comfort, pleasure or pride but are never necessary. People spend a lot on beverages, entertainment, cosmetics, jewellery, fashionable footwear and clothing, and touring for fun. Everyone must know how to distinguish what is crucial for survival from what is motivated by personal preferences and aspirations.This was called ‘Viveka’ by ancient Indians, and Adi Shakaracharya wrote the copious ‘Vivekachudamani’ on this subject.

The American philosophical writer and translator of ‘Anti-Oedipus’ and ‘A Thousand Plateaus’, Mark Seem, writes in the introduction of ‘Anti-Oedipus’:

If one wants to do an analysis of the flows of money and capital that circulate in society, nothing is more useful than Marx and the Marxist theory of money. But if one wishes also to analyze the flows of desire, the fears and the anxieties, the loves and the despairs that traverse the social field as intensive notes from the underground . . . one must look elsewhere. . . the history of mankind is the history of a becoming-reactive.

I was surprised when I dived deep into these two books andfound the ‘ego’ at the centre of this game of capitalism in the modern world. The Internet and broadband have been ‘invested’ to stoke billions of people’s desires so that they ‘buy’ what is unnecessary. In the name of fashion and trends, people must discard what they already have and hoard enough clothes, shoes and watches for the rest of their lives.

We are taught to see only ‘ourselves’ behind every social event. Even God is ‘waiting for us’, ‘listening to our prayers and pleas’ and ‘doing us favours’. This information gives us a picture of reality, but it doesn’t show us reality itself. We are presented with shapes, symbols and signs that hide flows and forces. They keep us from seeing other truths, especially the truth about how power controls us. They are meant to tame, and they make people obedient and docile.

Things seem to be going well so far. Now comes the challenging part. While all this is good for leaders and corporations, it creates internal suffering and a depressive tone of life for countless people. An increasing number of people are neuroticised at home, at school and work. Those who survive the ‘conversion’ become psychotic. These people escape their situations and run away, hiding their failure behind their false heroism. They turn into orphans – no family, atheists, and nomads without territories. German-American painter Richard Lindner drew the ‘Boy with Machine’ picture in 1954. So he saw it coming, so it came. 

This is the disease of our times, and humanity suffers from it. To improve, we must live by doing what is necessary rather than becoming ‘desire machines’ and Excel sheet numbers of corporations and in the mailing list of interest groups. By connecting to the machine of the universe – inside your body and outside in the sky – you live better in the flow of life, not by the ‘media’. You can’t change the world, but you can save yourself for good by floating on water like a lotus. The life inside you will show itself in growth, a never-ending process. Life clasps ego-less people in its powerfully productive embrace – and their desire-free work – ‘Nishkam Karma’ – turns them into greats.

Life is a journey, and like in other journeys, we encounter numerous co-travellers — family, friends, mentors, colleagues, and even strangers — who share parts of the path with us. Each co-traveller brings unique experiences, perspectives, and support, enriching our journey in various ways. Some play a distinct role, and the relationships we build with them add depth and meaning to our lives. They help us learn, grow, and evolve, enriching and fulfilling our journey. Embracing these connections and cherishing the moments shared with each co-traveller can transform our journey into a more meaningful and enjoyable experience.

My first encounter with Venkat Changavalli was a memorable one. In 2007, during a visit to Orissa, he and Mr Ramalinga Raju, Chairman of Satyam Computers, planned to launch a nationwide Emergency Response system starting with the United Andhra Pradesh. They had invited Dr APJ Abdul Kalam to be its Chairman after he completed his Presidential term. Changavalli, a man of action, took over as the CEO of the new organisation, EMRI (Emergency Management and Research Institute), and transformed it into the iconic ‘108 Ambulance Service’. The name “108” came from invoking cosmic energy and divine connection. I had the privilege of accompanying Dr Kalam and Changavalli on their visit to Stanford University. We also visited Cisco and had the first telepresence meeting with Cisco’s office in Bengaluru, with John Chambers, CEO of Cisco, by our side.

Later, Changavalli was invited by the Government of Uttar Pradesh to set up a Police Emergency Response System with a budget of Rs. 2200 Cr. Changavalli took me to meet Chief Minister Akhilesh Yadav, who called him the best Advisor ever to work with him. My son Aseem became Changavalli’s neighbour in Hill County in Hyderabad for a few years, and we met there a few times. I visited his home and took the blessings of his mother. Changavalli now works as CEO of the Insurance Information Bureau of India, and he recently visited me to present a book, BL2BM: Benchless to Benchmark, about his distinguished career, which is indeed the uncommon journey of an ordinary man.   

Changavalli’s journey began in September 1953 in a Brahmin family in a quaint village, Audipudi, in Bapatla District, coastal Andhra Pradesh. His academic pursuits led him to Andhra Loyola College in Vijayawada, where he laid the foundation for his future in chemical engineering. He further honed his skills at the Regional Engineering College, Warangal, now known as the National Institute of Technology (NIT). Then, he was selected for the prestigious Indian Institute of Management, Ahmedabad, in 1975. His career began with Lupin and turned significantly in 1982 when he joined CIBA-GEIGY, a merged entity of Swiss giants in India, which would later become Novartis.

In 1994, Changavalli joined Dragoco India, which would later become Symrise, after a brief stint at Roffe Construction Chemicals. As CEO of Symrise, Changavalli expanded his work experience by visiting the Dragoco facilities in Singapore, Jakarta, Sydney, Holzminden, New Jersey, and Shanghai. He had attended executive courses at Harvard, Wharton, Columbia, LBS, and IMD and was even featured in the TIME magazine. So, with this experience and expertise, Changavalli crafted the ‘108’ system. Post EMRI, Changavalli served as an advisor to six state governments. After Uttar Pradesh, he went to Haryana, Meghalaya, Assam, Andhra Pradesh and Telangana.

Where is new India heading to? I asked Changalii, a veteran of both the private and public sectors, this question. Like a good teacher, he explained that India’s trajectory encompasses broad economic, geopolitical, and social dimensions. Undoubtedly, India is on the path of robust economic growth. It is projected to become the third-largest economy in the world by the mid-21^st century, driven by a large and young population, increasing urbanisation, and a burgeoning middle class. Key sectors such as technology, manufacturing, and services are expanding rapidly, supported by government initiatives like ‘Make in India’ and ‘Digital India’.

India is becoming a global hub for technology and innovation. The country is home to a thriving startup ecosystem and significant advancements in information technology, pharmaceuticals, and space technology. Initiatives like the National AI Strategy and increased investment in research and development are propelling India towards becoming a leader in the global tech landscape.

Rising and increasingly assertive, India is an active member of international organisations like the United Nations, G20, and BRICS, strengthening ties with major powers like the United States, the European Union, and Japan. India’s strategic positioning and its role in regional groupings like the Quad (with the US, Japan, and Australia) reflect its growing geopolitical clout. And yet, as the country with the largest population in the world, it is a work in progress, navigating significant changes and challenges.

Efforts to address issues like poverty, education, healthcare, and gender equality are ongoing. While progress has been made, particularly in reducing poverty and improving access to education and healthcare, disparities and social tensions persist. Government policies and grassroots movements continue to push for social reforms and inclusive growth. Rapid urbanisation is transforming India’s cities. Significant investments are being made in infrastructure development, including smart cities, transportation networks, and urban planning. These developments aim to improve living standards, boost economic productivity, and make cities more resilient and sustainable.

Changavalli calls for investment in education and skill development to harness India’s demographic dividend. Initiatives like the New Education Policy 2020, aimed at revamping the education system, promoting research and innovation, and equipping the workforce with skills required for the 21st century, are a silver lining. Political stability and policy reforms to boost economic growth and improve governance are equally essential to shaping the country’s future.

Changavalli sees the most significant challenge in New India as balancing economic growth with social and environmental sustainability. While technology presents growth opportunities, it poses challenges, such as job displacement due to automation and the need for cybersecurity. Preparing the workforce for technological changes and ensuring data privacy and security are essential. Addressing this requires comprehensive and coordinated efforts across multiple sectors, including economic policies that promote inclusive growth, social reforms to reduce inequalities, and environmental regulations that ensure sustainable development.

So, what motivates Changavalli to come to work in his seventies? He looks back at his humble beginning in poverty and says that though he has been lucky to emerge from it, a billion people in India must be helped. Helping young people think right, instilling self-confidence, and helping them learn to celebrate the glass half-full is no less holy and deserving than any other worship. Work is worship, duty is God, and a life well lived is life lived well. Here, a person who works without any reason, not for money, fame, or anything else, is the most productive. Such people have the power to change the world. In terms of Karma-Yoga, this man is the very best example.   

I am running into my seventieth year. Born on February 10, 1955, I have lived a somewhat uncertain life with some cardiac electrophysiological issues since childhood and, later, coronary artery disease that necessitated multiple angioplasties, a bypass surgery, and two stents. Besides this, overall, life has been experientially enriched and satisfying. In hindsight, things happened to me without my planning or pursuing them. Now, I spend most of my time studying at home.

What is the purpose of human life? Is it all stories that we are told and that we, in turn, tell? How much of human free will is real? Is everything fated? Should we be captured right in childhood to be productive and compliant with the socioeconomic system? Are our education, careers, and livelihoods not orchestrated by the powers that run this world? Every religion has found the truth, but their findings differ. A good portion of science is dogmatic. The 12^th of 18 verses of the short and crisp Isha Upanishad pin the truth.

अन्धं तमः प्रविशन्ति येऽसम्भूतिमुपासते।

ततो भूय इव ते तमो य उ सम्भूत्यां रताः ॥

Those who seek eternal truth enter blind darkness, and those who study material existence live in greater darkness.

I have been an avid reader since childhood. Later, I curated a small personal library and now spend most of my time reading books, some new but mainly from the old lot. One such book is She by Henry Rider Haggard. I first read it in Pantnagar in the 1970s, during my graduation there, and got scared when the young protagonist encountered an ageless woman, living for 2000 years in youth, waiting for him to follow various life cycles and meet her. I avoided watching the film based on this novel for many years, and finally, when I saw it, I had goosebumps at the climax.

This time, after re-reading the book, I ordered its sequel, The Return of She. It was published in 1905, 18 years after the first novel. Many books survive the test of time, live long after their authors are gone, remain in print, and people buy them not because they are advertised but as if a mysterious hand has led them there. These books are waiting to be read, thought through and absorbed.

In the 3^rd chapter of the sequel book, the hero, 22 years old, when he met ‘She’ in the first book, is now searching for ‘her’ in the Siberian wilderness ‘driven onward by blind fatalism’ as the only guide. He, along with his elderly mentor and co-traveller, take shelter in a monastery where some elderly Buddhist monks – lamas – live, cut off from the world, ‘with no other company than that of their pious contemplation’. They spend many months waiting for winter to get over and read the old manuscripts stored there. A diary with the lama ‘written about two hundred and fifty years earlier’ confirms that they are on the right trail.

. . . there was a fine country beyond the mountains . . . people [there] worship a priestess . . . who is said to reign from generation to generation. . . She lives in a great mountain, apart, and is feared and adored by all, but is not the queen of the country, in the government of which she seldom interferes. However, sacrifices are offered to her, and he who incurs her vengeance dies.

When the hero shows this passage to a lama, who is now eighty, the lama confirms that he met such a lady when he was a young novice in the monastery. She had come with a group of warriors who had crossed the desert for shelter.

She was all loveliness in one shape; she was like the dawn upon the snows; she was like the evening star above the mountains; she was like the first flower of the spring . . . That woman, if woman she were, lit a fire in my heart which will not burn out.  . .  She made me worship her.

Your Path is Renunciation and your Nirvana, a most excellent Nothingness which some would think it scarce worthwhile to strive so hard to reach. Now I will show you a more joyous way and a goddess more worthy of your worship. . . The way of Love and Life —that makes all the world to be, that made you. Though I change, I do not die.

Now, the lama insists that the hero not go after ‘her’ and offers to let him stay at the monastery for the rest of his life. But to the hero, the purpose of life is to seek one’s desires. When the hero tells the lama that he met ‘her’ 18 years ago and that it will only be a reunion, the lama replies:

Doubtless, you will find her there as you expect . . . Only be not mistaken, she is no immortal; nothing is immortal. She is but a being held back by her own pride . . . That pride will be humbled . . . that brow of majesty shall be sprinkled with the dust of change and death . . . .  sinful sprit must be purified by sorrow and by separations.

[Even] if you win her, it will be but to lose, and then the ladder must be reclimbed . . . why labour to pour water into a broken jar whence it must sink into the sands of profitless experience, and there be wasted, whilst you remain athirst?

Now comes the counterpoint. The hero replies to the lama:

Water makes the sand fertile . . . where water falls, life comes, and sorrow is the seed of joy. Love is the law of life. . .  without love there is no life. I seek love that I may live. I believe all these things are ordained to an end we do not know. Fate draws me on – I fulfil my fate. . . we are sworn to a tryst, and we will not break our word.

The argument climaxes in the lama declaring the futility of life and the hero’s utility:

Then, brethren, go keep your tryst, and when you have reaped its harvest, think upon my saying, for I am sure that the wine you crush from the vintage of your desire will run red like blood, and that in its drinking, you shall find neither forgetfulness nor peace.

. . . to dwell through aeons in monotonous misery in order that conciousness may be swallowed up at last in some void and formless abstraction called the ‘Utter Peace.’ I would rather take my share of a bad world and keep my hope of a better.

I have learnt from this book how the lama concludes, and I share this with my readers as my gift.

. . . So would I . . . Who can tell? Moreover, what is the use of reasoning?  . . we have no choice; we follow our fate. To what that fate may lead us, we shall learn in due season.

Know that the concept of individual fate is a false idea. An individual’s destiny is intertwined with the destiny of the larger community or society to which he or she belongs. Our actions and choices must help the broader social fabric in which we are embedded. The more isolated and selfish our life, the more individualistic our thinking, the more futile our life. What can be the utility of a wheel locked to a pole? The purpose of a wheel is to move. The purpose of human life is to expand consciousness, work to progress, and serve others through good conduct. The rest of the action and drama are futility, vanity, and entropy.

Who I am? Why was I born? Why are people born in different conditions – some in poor families, some in rich, some in developed countries, some in conflict-prone areas and amidst astute poverty and depravity? And why is it not in their hands to call it quits? Countless people suffer disease, disability, bad relationships, and losses, and though they wish every day to die, death does not come to them. On the contrary, people in the pink of their health, at the pinnacle of their name and fame, drop down suddenly without a clue. Accidents and mishaps happen apparently for no rhyme or reason.

Every religion offers an idea of an all-powerful God, the Supreme Creator of the universe and the life on earth, and everything that exists here – people, animals, trees, minerals, and so on. So why doesn’t He just put us in a decent place, if not heaven, where we do not suffer? Why does He require our surrender, service, and prayer and keep us on wait? Though we are conditioned to see God as the all-merciful benefactor, His actions may at times seem to be like those of an uncaring and unsympathetic judge. Yet, devotees must not give way to such feelings and must patiently endure their suffering in good faith.

A lot of learning opportunities came my way. I have travelled extensively and read vociferously. My parents raised me to have an open mind, and all faiths appealed to me. I felt blessed when visiting religious places of all faiths –  mosques, churches, gurdwaras, Buddhist and Jain temples, besides Hindu shrines – and suffered no fanatism. Faith is undoubtedly a powerful force and a great help to pass through an uncertain, challenging, and somewhat tricky world. But then the question came: is faith a mere psychological trick? Are we imagining a saviour, a guardian, a redeemer, who shall help us to endure and carry on?

And then, a few months back, I arrived at the Anu Gita, towards the end of my long-drawn-out study of the Mahabharata that I took up during the COVID-19 pandemic. The Kurukshetra war is over, the Pandavas have won their kingdom, and after living through an era of great conflict and awakening, it is time for Shri Krishna to return to his home in Dwarka. Arjuna requests Shri Krishna to repeat the message of the Gita to him. Shri Krishna chides him for his negligent attitude and says that even He cannot now recreate it exactly. But out of love, Shri Krishna agrees to tell Arjuna the gist by retelling some of the anecdotes.

This narrative of Shri Krishna’s is called Anu Gita. It forms chapters 16 to 51 of the Ashvamedhika Parva, the fourteenth of the eighteen books of the Mahabharata. Incidentally, the Bhagavad Gita is also contained in Mahabharata in the sixth book, Bhishma Parva, covering chapters 25 to 42. There are three storylines in the Anu Gita. First, Shri Krishna tells Arjuna what he heard from a sage who visited him. The sage shared with him what transpired between Rishi Kashyapa and a Siddha (chapters 16 to 19). Then, a conversation between a Brahmin and his wife follows (chapters 20 to 34). Finally, Lord Brahma speaks to the Saptarishis (chapters 35 to 51). 

It is a tough-to-read account, missing the high-voltage drama, fascinating dialogues, and the brilliance of the Gita. Now advanced in age and primarily idle, I persisted in my study, and lo and behold, I found deep inside a dark cave the chest with the secret of life, which the writer of the Mahabharata kept for whoever succeeded in reaching there. I am happy that I was able to do that. I now know the secret of life by reading the 36 chapters of the Anu Gita, which makes 1041 shlokas. And why must I not share it?

Mine is perhaps the last generation of Indians still holding on to their scriptures. There is desperation, and I am afraid a little despair, that if not passed on to the coming generations, especially those who have left the country, it may be lost forever. Though excellent translations are available, a rendering in contemporary language and terms is needed. So, when my book No. 26, The Discovery of Anu Gita, was published last month, I finally felt satisfied.

Though biologically, humans are animals, they have this unique quality of free will and the desire to enjoy themselves separately from their given conditions. They are called Jivatma – mortal divinity – a term that brilliantly captures the uniqueness of humans over other creatures. Over the years, mankind has learned to grow crops, make tools, wheels, printing presses, and, of late, computers, manipulating the conditions around it rather than living by them, and achieving incredible efficiency in whatever work is done.

The cosmos, solar system, earth, and living beings on earth are explained as one Energy Field – there was an attributeless energy, and when it was triggered, it turned to three qualities – light, action, and inertia – Sattva, Rajas and Tamas as these are called. The interplay of these qualities created everything and continues to do that – an infinite chain of differentiation in motion. This flux of properties, names, and forms surrounds consciousness as if living upon it like fungus on a fruit. When one dies, the conscious carries the essence of deeds as fragrances riding the air. The deeds select a new body based on the best fit for their settlement. The deeds-consciousness complex is called Jivatma, the embodied soul.

Anu Gita explains, through simple stories, how Jivatma lives through the three modes of material nature in the body. In all cases, Jivatma enjoys or suffers the reactions of past and present activities performed in these modes. But as Jivatma continues to perform karmic activities, it stays locked in the endless cycle of repeated birth and death – a software loaded onto new machines forever expanded and updated. With machines learning all that humanity knows and more, the inflection point is not far away, akin to the enlightenment of Buddha, who attained Nirvana by deciphering the code and ending the game for good.

So, this is the secret of life. We are Jivatma, the deeds surrounding a pure, immortal essence, the soul. Like electricity passing through whatever circuit or device it is plugged into, the consciousness defines cosmic intelligence as of now; past deeds keep creating new situations, experiences, and, in turn, more deeds. Take the semantics out; my forefathers lived the same drama I lived in their old world, and my children and grandchildren will go through the same pains and pleasures with different forms and formations. Anu Gita tells us to mind our deeds. Watch your experiences as deeds pass rolling out. Nothing would or could change it. The best one can do is not to add to the muck. Renunciates – ascetics are respected, for they close this cycle by not producing children.

After translating the Anu Gita, verse by verse, I found a brilliant foresight left by the ancients for their posterity to discover as and when the right moment comes. I can see life as a mental act. Every day, we are put to sleep for one-third of our waking life to calibrate our minds. Whatever exists has emerged out of intent. What are now unseen intents will only manifest as events and endeavours in the future. Sync your life with the universal consciousness and flourish. Don’t fear intelligence; embrace it. The labels of “I” and “Mine” around which this world and its struggle move mean nothing much in the drama of life and death. All achievements and failures are left behind with death except the liability of one’s deeds, designed and rolled out in the next lives. As for God, it is all a game, “Lila”. One run of simulation is over, and another begins.

Please read the book; it is available on Amazon.

Every age brings its own flavour. As a university student, I have seen computers arriving and much later, the smartphone revolution. Talk of AI and Robotics marks the present times, but what is most promising and potentially transformative is the access to millions of small islands in the oceans that cover over three-quarters of the earth’s surface. If you visualise oceans as water-filled earth as irregular as the upper terrain of mountains and forests, it is easier to understand why it is not easy to access most of these islands. On many of these islands, people live, though sparingly, but their lives are old-fashioned at best, if not primitive. However, there is a hidden treasure in these islands, in the form of immense wealth trapped as minerals, oil, and gas. This untapped potential is a source of intrigue and curiosity, waiting to be explored and utilised for the benefit of all.

I have not sailed much, except for a trip from the mainland of Greece to an island in the Mediterranean. Still, I have read some great books about sea voyages and the role they played in shaping the history of humanity, especially the rampage by the European people upon the earth by killing indigenous people whenever they sailed to Africa, Southeast Asia and the Americas. Once you understand that the glory of London, Paris, Rome, and Barcelona was built upon the wealth that was plundered from these territories and how millions of people were brought in as slaves and indentured labourers to grow food for their gun-wielding ‘masters’, your world view is bound to change. I highly regard writers like Joseph Conrad and VS Naipaul, who recorded both the ugly side of the affluent Europeans and the shining side of the tormented subjugated people and presented a whole picture of humanity in which they found another variety of beasts on this earth, even evil at times.

By chance, if I may say so, but indeed through the efforts of young Gopi Reddy, who is the most prominent of my young ‘brigade’, who has listened to me and put some of my ideas into action, Vietnamese-Australian Khoa Hoang, visited me bringing along a bag of adventure that he has seen in his life already and an even more powerful dream of a Blue Economy. I found a bundle of energy in a healthy body and a clear mind in Khoa, a chimaera of Bill Gates, Elon Musk, and Steve Jobs. He thinks like Gates, takes risks like Musk, and is a non-conformist and maverick like Jobs. We know about celebrities from their larger-than-life personas created in the media; I am talking about the spiritual connection here that can only be felt in their presence, and I could feel it when I met Khoa. Blue Economy will bring the elusive prosperity for the poor and marginalised of the world, which has not happened so far despite the hype and hoopla of progress around the globe.

Khoa was born on February 7, 1977, thus sharing the Aquarius Sun sign with me, for whatever it may mean. He was the second child and first son of his parents and would have three more sisters and a brother. The events in his country made him a refugee right from his early childhood, as he transited through British-ruled Hong Kong and then arrived and settled in Queensland, Australia. His father established businesses in Vietnam after it emerged out of decades of wars and economic mismanagement of resources in the 1990s, creating wealth.  Khoa returned to Vietnam in 2004 after completing his education in Australia. Genetically endowed with nationalism and brilliance, his forefathers were scholars and amongst the founders of the Academy Van Mieu that educated generations of Vietnam’s bureaucrats, nobles, royalty, and other elite members. His grandfather is buried in Hero’s Grave, a national monument.

In his early thirties, Khoa stumbled upon a treasure house, not of weapons, but of expansive machinery like aircraft engines and spare parts,  left behind by the United States Army in 1975 when they hurriedly exited Vietnam. These ‘stores’ were in ‘factory build’ condition, thanks to grease-paper packaging that kept dust and moisture away. Locked in massive ‘hangers’ infested by rats, lizards, and snakes over time, no one had approached them. It was wealth in billions of dollars, but only if integrated into the system. The venture was like walking through a maze blindfolded, with the risk of no return built into every step. Undeterred, Khoa risked his career in this enterprise, eventually leading him to stand in the presence of the former US Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice. The details of the ‘barter’ worked out would never be known, but it was settled for the good of his country and himself, a testament to his courage and determination.

In the process, which went on for a few years, Khoa was bitten by the ‘military hardware’ bug and gained insights into the system’s ‘specs and operability standards’. He understood the five industries that ruled the world – the oil and energy sector, the aerospace-aviation industry, the shipping-trade industry, the banking-insurance-finance, and the military hardware and software. Whatever else exists in the world – electronics, computers, pharmaceuticals, businesses, universities, and governments of different ideological shades, must draw from these five industries for their existence. Youngsters are picked up as ‘spare parts’ of this system and ‘readied and groomed’ under the fancy names of education and skill generation, and start-up ecosystems fish for this talent whenever and wherever it exists. As of now, in 2024, the West will rule the world, controlling all five intricate and interwoven industry systems, and it is unlikely that this situation will change soon or even later. Through AI and Robotics, the control of the West is only increasing rather than loosening.

So, what made Khoa special? Did I see the shades of Gates, Musk and Jobs in him? He invested his fortune in acquiring entirely – lock, stock and barrel – the world’s only FAA transport aircraft through Amphibian Aerospace Industries – for he sees access to the millions of islands in the oceans as the ‘next logical step.’ No large ship can go there, and from where these ships are anchored, commuting with the island in small boats would be both hazardous and time-consuming. So, it would be best to have amphibian aircraft that can take off from the water’s surface and land back in the water after taking people, machines, and materials to and from these islands. Khoa calls these islands the El Dorado of the 21^st century. In the sixteenth century, the stories of gold in the mythical El Dorado, deep in South America, drew the Spanish conquistadors. Khoa sees his fleet of Amphibian planes integrating thousands of mineral-rich islands with the modern world as ‘partners’.