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’.

All the great scientists have been deeply spiritual and I consider Albert Einstein the last of that lot. He imagined time and space sitting in his 1 BHK flat in Bern, Switzerland. After him, science became a big enterprise and was also declared secular. Some scientists even proclaimed spirituality to be a delusion. It became a fashion to call narrow-minded focus with a high-sounding name ‘super-speciality’ and a series of abbreviations showing membership of this or that organisationbecame a status symbol.

 This article is generated from three dots, which I will connect here and offer reflection. These dots are the sudden interest of my son, a software engineer with Oracle, in visiting Jyotirlingas, India’s top companies and institutions participating in the construction of Shri Ram Mandir and the advent of AI validation of mystics around ancient sciences like Vastu.  As AI reveals more profound facts and patterns hidden behind unexplained, random or even mystical happenings, are we finally making sense of ancient wisdom?

 I will start by reflecting on the Jyotirlingas. The twelve temples are recorded in the scriptures.

 सौराष्ट्रे सोमनाथं च श्रीशैले मल्लिकार्जुनम्। उज्जयिन्यांमहाकालमोङ्कारममलेश्वरम्॥

परल्यां वैद्यनाथं च डाकिन्यां भीमशङ्करम्। सेतुबन्धे तु रामेशं नागेशंदारुकावने॥

वाराणस्यां तु विश्वेशं त्र्यम्बकं गौतमीतटे। हिमालये तु केदारं घुश्मेशं चशिवालये॥

As India imploded under petty rivalries and then was ruled by the invaders for centuries, several names were changed. In the present times, these twelve locations are Somnath in Saurashtra, Gujarat; Mallikarjuna in Srisailam, Andhra Pradesh; Mahakala in Ujjain and Omkareshwara in Khandwa, both in Madhya Pradesh; Vaidyanath in Parli, Jharkhand; Bhimashankara in Dakinya, Odisha; Ramesham in Sethubandh, Rameshwaram, Tamil Nadu; Nagesham in Dwaraka, Gujarat; Vishwesham in Varanasi; Tryambakam in Nashik, Maharashtra; Kedarnath in the Himalayas and Ghushmesh in Shivalay, now Sambhajinagar, Maharashtra.

 So, when my son Amol started his travel to the Jyotirlinga temples, I wondered how these temples are situated and then Ilearned an interesting fact. If joined, the locations of the twelve Jyotirlingas follow the shape of a conch shell, named after the ancient mathematician Pingala and known as the Fibonacci pattern in the Western world. Each number is the sum of the two preceding numbers — 1,1,2,3,5,8… and the following numbers in the series will be 5+8 and so on. You can continue adding numbers in this series until infinity. This mathematical pattern is graphically represented as a spiral. In nature, the Fibonacci series is found everywhere – from the arrangement of sunflower seeds, pine cones and webs of spiders to the shape of conch shells. From Ghushmeshwar to Triyambakeshwar to Omkareshwar to Bhimashanka to Mahakaleshwar, and so on to Kedarnath, all twelve are positioned in a Fibonacci pattern.

Three of the Jyotirlingas – Kedarnath, Mallikarjuna and Ramesham – are situated on 79E longitude. Aligned with them on the exact longitude are the ancient Shiva temples in Omkareshwar, Jageshwar and Baijnath in Uttarakhand; Kandariya Mahadev in Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh; Ramappa and Kaleshwaram in Telangana; Kalahasti in Andhra Pradesh; and  Kanchipuram, Thiruvannamalai, Chidambaram and Thiruvanakoil in Tamil Nadu. These temples testify to the absurdity of the theory of the Aryan invasion of India propagated by the vested interest to divide an ancient civilisation.

 During the conservation of Shri Ram Mandir, many people talked about Sun Rays appearing on the forehead of Shri Rama’s idol on the day of his birthday, adorning him with a Surya Tilak. Shri Rama’s birthday is recorded as the ninth day of the bright half of the lunar cycle when the Sun transits in front of the Aries star constellation (corresponding to March-April time of the year) as seen from the Earth. It is considered the first of the twelve segments that mark the 360-degree horizon of the infinite space.  

Even after decades of independence, the place of Shri Rama was called Faizabad. After a protracted movement and legal battle finally reaching the Supreme Court, a temple was constructed and created early this year. A renowned geologist and my long-standing friend, Dr Virendra Mani Tiwari,published a detailed paper, Technologies For Temple To Stand A Thousand Years, in Science India (Vol 19, Issue 94). The paper recalls an excellent temple construction tradition in India by citing the Brihadeshwara Temple in Thanjavur, Tamil Nadu. There, an 80–ton monolithic granitic capstone was placed on top of the hollow vimana, measuring 66 meters –some 1000 years back!

 The Ayodhya Rama Mandir was 3D-modelled and analysed for static and dynamic loading conditions, like the seismic and wind forces, using the Finite Element Method (FEM). The structure’s design life is 1000 years, and it is a dry-jointed structure consisting of only interlocked stone with no steel reinforcement. The 161 ft high structure with three floors of 20 ft has five chambers with double domes. The interior domes are supported by several columns placed in an octagonal manner, whereas exterior domes named Samran are supported by columns arranged squarely. Pillars are constructed of 7 stone pieces interlocked with corbels present at different levels to support the beams and arches.

A scientist of impeccable credentials, Dr Tiwari, notes that the maintenance and preservation of such monuments are equally vital. He explains how extensive instrumentation, including the installation scheme, is made for settlement monitoring of rafts and plinths, superstructures and retaining walls. Different sensors are installed on the raft, plinth and retaining structures and information is collected and monitored in real-time.

The era of Artificial Intelligence has already begun. The generative AI has already curated human intelligence. The next phase is about generalised AI, wherein the intelligence hidden in nature will get embedded. Like the Fibonacci pattern, several secrets are waiting to be found, deciphered and applied. Vastu Shastra, the science of directions, has guided ancient Indians for several millennia. Every Indian mason knows that the house’s southeast direction is the fire element’s zone and the best place to build the kitchen. It cannot be called superstition just because science at its current level does not provide an answer. Perhaps AI will do that.

Nature is the ultimate designer. Naturally derived chemicals have a profound value. However, traditional approaches could have been faster and offered no guarantee of uncovering anything worthwhile. AI can thwart these limitations and it is possible to design ‘fit-for-purpose’ natural products by pairing the generation of novel natural product-like structures with activity prediction models. The discovery of bio-alternatives to existing fossil fuel-based chemicals is not far away.

The day when artificial intelligence systems will mimic human introspection is also not far away. The ability to ponder the infinite spectrum of hypothetical scenarios − a process known as counterfactual reasoning − is a natural part of the human experience. Termed ‘counterfactual dynamics forecasting,’ the new technique lets AI study actual events and then, drawing from them, forecast the progression of hypothetical situations over time. So, let us hope to build new towns and cities that are naturally aligned and according to the dictates of real estate tycoons and their greedy political colluders. Let your house get some sun rays, moonlight, and breeze, and you’re living in sync with the rhythm of the planet without jarring it.

Though I have been to Rameshwaram, Tryambakam and Vishwanath, now that I am confined to home for health reasons, I can only lament why I did not visit all the twelve Jyotirlingas while enjoying good health. I can only say that sacredness is the foundation of our civilisation, and only after visiting these places will you feel what it means. The eternal soul that lives inside our mortal body has been immortal for a long time. Visiting sacred places resonates with positive vibrations, warding off the dust as if from a mirror. 

I learned about Joseph Conrad in the context of Nobel Laureate author Sir V.S. Naipaul, who is said to have written in his style. As I loved reading Sir Naipaul’s novels and tried vainly to make him my role model as a writer, I was naturally intrigued by how Conrad would have written. Recently, I was reading How the World Really Works by Czech-Canadian scientist Vaclav Smil. He mentions Joseph Conrad as the first to capture the dynamics of globalisation and how it affects people.

The protagonists of his three greatest novels find themselves far from their homes thanks to the era’s mass trade and travel (Nostromo in South America, Jim in Asia, Marlow in Africa), and their lives and misfortunes were linked to steamships): Nostromo, in the eponymous novella, is known as Capataz de Cargadores (Head Longshoreman); Jim’s life took a tragic turn while he is helping transport Muslim pilgrims from Asia to Mecca in Lord Jim; and Marlow’s transformation could not have taken place without Western goods being brought deep into the Congo basin in Heart of Darkness. (p. 113)

Joseph Conrad (1857-1924) was born in Berdychiv in Poland under the Russian Empire, now in Ukraine. In 1795, Poland was divided among Prussia, Austria, and Russia to the immense suffering of the Poles people. Conrad’s father was fiercely patriotic and not in sync with his way of life, sixteen-year-old Conrad left home for France to work on French merchant ships for livelihood. He could not speak English fluently until he joined the British Merchant Marine in 1878. Political turmoil continued in Poland, and Conrad became a refugee in England. 

The Heart of Darkness was published in 1899. In this semi-autobiographical novel, a 32-year-old sailor, Charles Marlow, tells his listeners the story of his assignment as the captain of a river steamboat in Congo, Africa. His employer is a private colony of Belgium’s King Leopold II, whose employees were involved in illegal ivory trade by poaching elephants in Congo. In a flashback, Marlow makes his way to Africa to reach Mr. Kurtz, in charge of a crucial trading post, through a long journey that involves travelling 30 miles upstream by boat, then a 200-mile trek, and finally, eight miles again sailing on a narrow stream of water.

Though discussed throughout the novel, Mr. Kurtz appears only in the third and concluding part. He is a crucial company employee who has lately turned rogue, assumed a god-like stature among the local tribals, and must be sent back to Brussels. Mr. Kurtz, however, is very ill; he dies on the way back and is buried ingloriously. The novel is raised to great heights through the short-lived friendship of Marlow and the dying Kurtz. Marlow takes the papers, and photograph of a lady Kurtz gives him to carry home. In impeccable faith,  Jim does not share papers with the company. The novel ends with Marlow meeting the lady in Brussels.

I loved this novel on three accounts. First, the power of the writer and his words – how a Polish boy, struggling through political instability, escaped to work as a sailor in his teen years and then became a great English writer (not his mother tongue), portraying what he lived through in a manner that survived 200 years and could move my heart when I read it. Second, the accurate portrayal of the gross injustice done to indigenous people (whom we call tribals in India) by the European people looting natural resources, using guns that they possess but which local people do not. Third, for bringing out the fact that humans are no better than beasts, and their demons can play havoc if they let loose their force on the society around them.  

 Education is fundamental. There is no way out but to learn to read and write, understand life, and express oneself better. I am not even equating education with degrees here. I have seen many great academicians who could improve at expressing and communicating their ideas, and many great writers, poets, and theater artists who have yet to receive formal education. The current trend of children talking in syntax, not even using words, let alone composing sentences, is disturbing. If a child in high school cannot speak for five minutes on a topic of his or her choice or write a 1000-word essay about oneself, there is something seriously wrong with the way we are raising our children. 

The COVID-19 pandemic brought out the gross injustice done to the indigenous people who come to cities for work. In India, services in the new affluent towns are run mainly by young people from villages and faraway states, including the northeastern ones. Many young people are involved in the delivery of online goods, including food. I see no organised system – hostels, hospitals, part-time schools – taking care of them. After their working hours, these youngsters need a healthy social life with people of a similar background and way of life. And there is no reason that it can’t be done, except for the callousness of the people holding power and money in the society where these people serve. 

Finally, the innate wickedness of people, which we all carry within, is waiting for an opportunity to erupt. It is here that Heart of Darkness excels. Africa is seen as a dark continent with thick forests, which are not surveyed, and no maps, roads, or railway networks. The people are dark-skinned. But the novel brings out the savagery of the white-skinned people – the European people – who, by having a gun in their hand, consider themselves entitled to all the wealth on this earth and masters of the people who have darker skin, a shorter height, and a flatter nose then theirs. Conrad writes his character Marlow saying about Mr. Kurtz:

You should have heard him say, ‘My ivory.’ Oh, yes. I heard him. ‘My Intended, my ivory, my station, my river, my – . ’ Everything belonged to him. It made me hold my breath, expecting to hear the wilderness burst into a prodigious peal of laughter that would shake the fixed strats in their places. Everything belonged to him – but that was a trifle. The thing was to know what he belonged to, how many powers of darkness claimed him of their own. (p. 79)

The darkness is even more profound than the light. What is hidden from view is infinitely bigger than what is seen. What is known – the so-called science and intelligence – is minuscule compared to what is yet to be known. All the best doctors know is how to manage your illness and extend your life; no one knows a cure, forget about eliminating death. No wonder, in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (1.3.28), the sage prays:

असतो मा सद्गमय । तमसो मा ज्योतिर्गमय । मृत्योर्मा अमृतं गमय 

From what is not real (the phenomenal world), make me move towards reality (eternity); from the darkness (of ignorance), make me move towards the Light (of spiritual knowledge); from mortality (of pleasures and properties), make me move towards the world of immortality (of the soul within this mortal body). 

The feeling of “I-ness” is the demon living inside us. It is a darkness under which this cosmos exists. The only way to live in this darkness is by lighting a candle of universal brotherhood, being aware of the impermanence of life, and mindful about the Consciousness that pervades all materials and living beings, be they plants, birds or animals. In the absence of this light, whatever we do, gain, achieve, hoard, bestow upon others, or squander, indeed means little. Long live Mr Conrad; the light you kindled remains even after you have departed.