It's apropos that Graham brought up shraddha, because I was thinking deeply about something similar the other day, although perhaps not in terms quite as deep.
I'll try to articulate it, but this is a stream of consciousness, so I might repeat myself slightly, and I'll try not to.
Regarding national differences, religious differences etc. that are set into us so deeply that they lead to conflict: can we -- perhaps not the entire human race, but perhaps a section thereof -- can we, just for one moment, set aside the things that divide us (our nations, our religions, our "races" -- whatever that is) and remember, even just for a second, that underneath our disparate communities and customs and communal clothes and separate foods, we are all part of the same 'race', which is the human race?
That's as politely as I can ask that question.
Can we do that? Please? It'd be a heck of a nice change. Enough of the petty squabbling. Is it such an impossible dream? Yes, there will be plenty of people who will try to divide us, but let's notice who they are -- politicians and religious leaders, especially the ones noted for their zeal; the same people, in fact, in whose name all the fighting and the squabbling happens. And where do you think they are when that happens, hmm? One moment they're shouting "Forward, brave comrades!", but the next, I'll bet you dollars to donuts (or brownies to borscht) that they'll be the ones in that bunkbuster-proof bomb shelter and wearing the only bullet-proof vest that's truly bullet-proof.
See, I've never been interested in, or impressed by, anyone calling himself a "keynote speaker" who tries to rally up a crowd. While everyone's shouting "Yeah!" and clapping like trained seals, I'll be the one on the fringes, keeping notes and occasionally rolling my eyes at the opprobrium. I've read enough history to know that orators like this come and go.
Isn't it time we evolved beyond our simian origins? When we were barely humans, we flung our own excrement at each other. Then we graduated to rocks, arrows, bolts, bullets, cannon balls, grapeshot, and artillery shells ... and now we congratulate ourselves on our stock of nuclear bombs. We say: you better watch out, cousin, 'cos we got enough biochemical weapons and dirty bombs to wipe you out if you even look at me cockeyed. We got so many nuclear bombs, we can wipe out the entire planet if we wanna.
But I, in my temerity, ask: why? Why destroy this little blue-green marble, this wonder on whose our entire existence depends? Why bomb each other? Why kill and stab and rape and murder? Isn't it enough to stand in the park on a bright, sunny day, and stare in awe at a bird on a tree and wonder how they, through millions of years, became what they are? Or look out across a dazzlingly white panorama of snow and glittering ice on a winter's morning, while gratefully sipping a cup of hot chocolate -- with cinnamon, no less -- and count our blessings for being alive, despite the fact that we'll only be here for such a brief time-span, geologically speaking, that the ONLY thing -- we can do is love, or at least try to tolerate, our fellow human beings?
All this anger. All this destruction. All this thisness. It's enough to make you cry, or start to pray ... or write unabashedly unphilosophical, irreligious, deeply spiritual rants like this.
So maybe our race is doomed to destroy itself. Maybe our planet is doomed to a nuclear holocaust. It's survived much worse than us. But will we?
