Reflections: Watership Down

Rabbits are universally regarded as cute, cuddly creatures. Almost every little girl is drawn towards their soft fur, furtive little eyes, and adorable teeth that constantly nibble into something. It’s hard to imagine these creatures as being bothersome to anyone, until you try to put together a vegetable garden. And that’s when you realize the voracity of their appetite and how incredibly damaging it is to your puny little garden. Despite our attempts to thwart these creatures, we lost all our budding cauliflower and tomato plants last year. Now, every time we see a flash of brown and white, our hearts leap to our mouth, shrieking out exasperated warnings to save the plants. More sturdy fences have been erected, bunny-repelling plants have been grown and holes have been stuffed and covered. In essence, vigilance is strict this time. That’s when I was reminded of Watership Down. It’s a book that I have been wanting to read for a long time, because of my love for rabbits, and any book that deals with animals and their survival. And ever since we started our little battle against rabbits in our very own yard, the book has pressed itself on me as a must read.

In a nutshell, Watership Down is a classic portrayal of rabbits in the wild - their hierarchy, social structure, and survival mechanisms. A gang of rabbits vacate from their burrows to escape human encroachment, and are on the run to find a nice little place for themselves to settle down, far away from the nagging cruelty of humans and live in peace. Headed by brave rabbits, and by the timid and intelligent little Fiver, whose intuition and perspicacity helps the rabbits sniff out danger before it strikes them, they shuttle from one adventure to another in their stiff battle towards survival.

Throughout the story, Richard Adams infuses interludes of  interesting rabbit mythological tales and the rabbits’ beliefs of an omnipotent creator and his hand in their lives. While the tales were interesting asides in the beginning, they started to wear me down a little as the story progressed, because it gave the book a meandering feel and took my interest away from the story. And while the story itself was endearing, and the writing was quite beautiful, there wasn’t enough happening in the story to hold my interest through its 500 odd pages. Yet there was always a nervous edge to the story that piqued enough curiosity in me to persevere with the book till the end.

Despite anthropomorphizing the animals, Adams maintains an honest perspective of rabbit psychology and physiology, thus bringing us closer to understanding their ecology. However, Adams also subtly likens the similarity of our race for survival, with the rabbits’. In the end, all of God’s creations act and work on the same core instincts, hanging on to their own illusions and perceptions of the Universe and everything that is beyond their control.

Watership Down is quite worthy of its fame, although it might appeal better to young readers. And finally - Did the book make me cringe with guilt for shooing off the rabbits in our yard? Most definitely yes.

Reflections: Life of Pi

We try to skirt past a lot of things in life, but some of them hound us with the same intensity with which we evade them. So it is with certain books. Having heard an assortment of unpleasant and mixed reviews for Life of Pi, my curiosity to read it was neutralized to the point where I didn't really care to give it another look. But library after library, book shop after shop, it stared, nudged and taunted. It's not easy to evade a well-acclaimed book like this. So finally, when I found it lying in a tub of $5 books, I was left with little choice. I went by my friend's words, "It's not a feel good book, but one you should read at some point." And I wholeheartedly agree.

The whole world knows its story. Pi Patel and his family decide to relocate their livelihood from Pondicherry, India, to Toronto, Canada. Pi's dad owned a zoo, so most of the exotic wild animals were shipped through the same cargo ship in which the family set out to travel. Misfortune strikes and the ship sinks. Pi finds himself in a lifeboat with an injured zebra, a ravenous hyena, a wizened orangutan, and a fierce Bengal tiger. An average 16 year old boy would have instantly plunged into the ocean, rather than contemplate survival amidst such a crazy menagerie. However, this story came about because Pi was different. In addition to the ocean teeming with merciless sharks, Pi suffers from an unshakable will to survive, which doesn't let him give up. He fights a fierce battle against all odds, and finally reaches land. His adventure and endurance are incomprehensibly courageous and incredulous. But his story reaffirms the power of human will.

This was truly a riveting book. I was sucked into the lifeboat along with Pi and I was glued to the words like my life depended on them. It was an intense read, fluctuating between revulsion, disbelief and insight. Despite my intolerance to gore and violence of any kind, I surprised myself by reading every page. Sadly, just like Pi, I too started getting used to the sheer brutality demanded out of survival in the wild. But it was primarily the writing that propelled me to want to get to the end. I loved Martel's writing - his words floated along the pages with much insight, vividly capturing every emotion and every thought of a castaway. Although it was revolting to read his graphic descriptions, his casual ease and nonchalance betrayed how much he was ingrained into the character of Pi. I think it is this harsh portrayal that truly emphasizes the magnitude of how wild and barbaric the game of survival is. He sensitively brings out Pi's moral gradation (or degradation)... from the fastidious, ethical, vegetarian, to the slow metamorphosis of a starving animal struggling to survive. Morality takes on a whole new definition. Interestingly (as I hark time and again), if our ancestors hadn't been amoral and ruthless, our species couldn't have come into being. In this present age, even without the threat of dying in the jaws of wild animals, it is the ruthless, aggressive kinds that survive. In many ways, the lifeboat and Pi's story are symbolic of our true shades of character - humanity seems to be meaningful only in the context of threat-free survival.

The ending dawned a whole new understanding of the concept of humanity and our various prejudices and hypocrisies. With the weight of our bloated ego, it is impossible for us to come to terms with humans exhibiting beastly characteristics. It is easier for us to escape into denial, and substitute, blame and conjure a convoluted understanding of an unpalatable situation with animals, rather than humans. It is acceptable if animals kill, but something in us rebels unceremoniously if humans are shown in the light of vicious, callous animals. Aspects of reality that cannot be digested are construed in a different pattern,  desperately associating meaning and forming an acceptable "story" or point of view that fits the mind. I think the book has proved this point with the distaste it has garnered among most readers with its story. While the conjecture of humanity dying in the face of survival is indeed unsettling, how we try to clothe it with our imagination is fascinating. The concept of God thus arose due to our need to tone down reality, and hold onto some expression of meaning and consolation. Faith gives us the ability to view reality differently.

Martel's wry sense of humor and the epic battle of Pi make a powerful experience. To a large extent I agreed with his discussion and defense of zoos. His research and understanding of animal psychology is quite impressive. Pi's story of courage and endurance is touching, even a tad inspiring. His violent struggles and his forced apathy for the lives of other creatures are disturbing. I have to agree with most other readers that the book indeed evokes a mixture of feelings. I don't think I can say that I loved the book, but I did find it to be an impressive and intense read, never to be forgotten. Does it make me believe in God? I believe in the need for trusting in some faith called God... but it reaffirms my faith in and understanding of Nature's relentless laws.

The Green Conundrum

The Greens faced a predicament. Their country farmhouse served as their home and as their business quarters. While their business was generating a good revenue, the heavy machines used on the site were causing serious damage to the foundation of the farmhouse, threatening to bring down the house in about five years. Unfortunately the profit reaped from the business wasn't sufficient to help the Greens find a new place or remedy the structural damages to the house. But the Greens were firm on preserving the house for their posterity and so slowed down the production machinery, thus decreasing their revenue. A decade later, when Mr. and Mrs. Greens had passed on, their children inherited the farmhouse which was in a state of near dilapidation. The children grimly realized that it would take hundreds of thousands of dollars to renovate the house. But the irony was, since the Greens had slowed down production and slimmed down their profits, the children hadn't inherited enough money to take care of the damages. If the Greens had indeed carried on production, not being so concerned with the short-term consequences, they might have left enough money for the children to resurrect the house. What went wrong with the Greens' intention to save the house? How did their concern and consideration turn impractical and result in the house being irrevocably damaged? (Original Source: The Skeptical Environmentalist, by Bjorn Lomborg)

This is an analogy on the current debate on environmental conservation and protection. Obviously the Greens did not make a practical and rational decision when they cut down on their profits while not taking any steps to remedy the house, or find a new place. Their decision was not just short-sighted but their priorities were mismatched, and they were not proactive enough to find a solution to the problem. They just seemed to delay the inevitable and deemed it as the best "solution". But when we draw parallels between this scenario to our problem of a world being depleted of environmental resources, and damaged due to our plundering, our option to consider relocating to another "home" is not as simple. While great minds like Stephen Hawking have been stressing on such endeavors, there are far too many challenges involved. With the effects of environment abuse unveiling itself and intensifying with every passing year, we seem to have an even more pressing need to find a "solution" to mitigate the damages early.

The skepticism in the excerpt is - if our industrialization and production is cut down to an unrealistic scale in an attempt to restrict the damage, it isn't a solution. It merely prolongs an inevitable disaster. Wouldn't it be better to be equipped with the technology and economic means to deal with the problem when it strikes, rather than not have the means to deal with the problem, with merely the consolation that it manifested a few years later? Theoretically, the argument seems to be logical. But finding a place/planet that is conducive to human habitation is far more complex than just involving money or technological growth. We don't have the liberty that the Greens had in being assured that there would always be another home, however modest in comparison to the existing home, that will help them survive. It doesn't sound logical to continue amassing profit and technology when none of them are assured of helping us find a solution. Until such a time, it makes sense to be overly cautious to conserve and preserve our planet. And it seems mind-bogglingly shocking to me that we can be so complacent about restarting or simulating our complex ecosystem in another planet - down to the life sustaining microbes. We have absolutely no idea if we humans can indeed survive in a different ecosystem. What makes us take this current planet for granted - a result of billions of years of meticulous and intricate evolution.

Besides, without even going into the specifics of the Kyoto protocol or the recent Copenhagen Summit, or the many controversies circling around claiming that Global warming is an unproven scientific falsity, I stress that it is every individual's social responsibility to treat their home with consideration. It doesn't seem unrealistic to me to insist that we don't litter our own home and not pay heed to many of our inconsiderate behaviors which can be rectified with simple steps. Monitoring the callous ways in which I was living, I was shocked that I spent so many plastic water bottles, containers and money only because I was forgetful or lazy to carry water and reuse a bottles. This in fact reduces my cost of buying plastic, which forms a significant component of trash, even per person. Similarly, how is at an increase in cost if I put in more effort to not use the drier and use a clothes line, at least during summer? Not using the drier for three whole months was a tremendous conservation of electricity and it brought down my bill significantly. Never before have I noticed how many plastic cups, plates and cutlery get trashed every time there is a small get-together amongst friends. A fun weekend dinner does not require so much waste. If we looked beyond the short-term discomfort of washing dishes (which anyway get dumped into a dishwasher or handed over to a domestic help), it is an economical benefit for us. Of course, using the dishwasher is also incurring excessive water wastage, but if one has to trade off their options due to practical challenges in dealing with our time pressured lives, then a thoughtful trade off is better than indulging in thoughtless and inconsiderate behavior. For months now, my dear friend has been tirelessly campaigning about waste-management, which will also promise a good organic garden. But the lukewarm responses suggest that people would rather invest a lot of money in buying fertilizer sacks than deal with collecting waste and popping in earthworms, which hardly require much effort (aside the ickiness associated with earthworms ;)). Such inertia to put in some labor and effort is what is saddening. Similarly, if one were to take account of the number of pages of paper that get printed out per useless meeting, per office/school, when everything is electronic, and if we were to notice how carelessly they get strewn in every other bin except the recycle bin, such carelessness is appalling. Contrary to the excerpt's claim, many of our compromises involve effort and consideration - not money and impediment of growth. If we looked beyond comfort, we can do much more.

Conservation of resources is a good practice regardless of any selfish motives. One doesn't have to go on crazy marine expeditions to stop whale hunting to demonstrate their commitment to preserving the ecosystem and the environment. There are plenty of little things we can do, each in our own seemingly little ways, to be considerate to our habitat. Paying attention to what we throw in the trash and how we use natural resources will surely provide ample opportunities to remedy our ways. It doesn't necessitate frugal living, as is commonly misunderstood. It only requires living thoughtfully in communion with Nature, showing her the consideration she deserves. But these steps alone are not going to be enough, and investment in research to explore other habitable planets is surely a long-term practical solution, which I don't think will be hampered due to us being minimal in our use of non-biodegradable substances.

The Vicious Cycle

Too many thoughts today :). Ever since I read SUMI's post Nothing's Enough, I've been raking my brain on and off on a poem I read; a Hindi poem we learnt back in school. I unfortunately can't remember the name of the poem, the exact words, or the poet. Pretty vague recollections, but the thoughts conveyed remain fresh. I was going to leave a comment on her post with the poem, but put it off. But over the week I have had more impetus to recollect the poem's thoughts, so here it goes:


The moon looks down at us Earthlings, sad and frustrated
"It is indeed a mystery to me", the moon tells me
"I have looked down for millions of years and nothing has changed"
"Nothing?! Well, surely we have progressed in all these years. Look at all our innovations, our inventions!", I quip
"Well, that maybe so. But why did you have to create all those innovative things?", the Moon wonders
"To make our lives more comfortable of course!", I shrug
"Are your lives more comfortable now? Why doesn't it stop.... how much do you want to simplify", the Moon sighs
"Well... we are comfortable, but we still have problems to be solved. We need to creatively solve all problems", I mutter, fearing what the Moon will say next
"Hmmmm... my dear, that's your problem. You people seem to want to solve a problem, by creating one yourself. For millions of years I see all of you create confusions and problems due to your own faults, and then spend years solving them, and create more problems through the solution.... It is a vicious cycle you're stuck in. You put yourself through constant misery by constantly creating more problems to be solved. There is no peace, no rest. And I am tired of seeing it repeat over and over and over....will it ever end?," the Moon cries


I'm currently reading a book called "Normal Accidents" (well it's a text-book) that talks about inherent dangers in high risk technologies. The author makes you want to frame Murphy's laws and hang it over your desk. But anyways, 200 pages of that book (and more to go ) got me exasperated. I feel so very much like the Moon. The author's point is that even safety devices in risky environments can add to the risk.... a nuclear plant to solve energy crisis is a solution, but that solution has innumerable threats and risks... we try to solve those problems and more problems surface, and the cycle continues. Is there even an end? Are we really creating problems just to keep our thirst for challenge alive? Or is it purely because the environment is so inherently complex that we can't completely solve problems by reaching an end?

The Consequences of Technical Education

I started this blog two or so years back and I am ashamed to see the few posts, and worst of all the lack of creativity in my writing. Those so-called abilities of mine have either rusted or just gone. I am sad. There was a time when I couldn't stop writing, and used to easily fill pages and pages out of mere nothing. Now I struggle to get through a page :(.


I blame it on my technical education. Engineering started and it left me with hardly any time to read good books. I was caught with the necessity to read technical books, non-fiction-course-related-jargon-laden books. And then there were two years of my Masters during which time I had impeccable training on technical writing, with a perfectionist of a professor not happy with 18 pages of my writing when a conference paper was only supposed to be 8 pages long. I have imbibed tricks and tips to shorten sentences, to avoid adjectives, to use as minimal words as possible, to be careful of the choice of words, to be precise and to the point, to eliminate speculation and just state facts. And I am now reduced to a creativity drained "scientist" who starts to reason about statistical validity and logicality of statements, who even reasons while watching animation movies :( (How can a giraffe be attracted to a hippo?!). I am extremely saddened.


I should probably shift focus from training just one part of my brain (whatever that is) and start using both sides of my brain...Interestingly I have just realized from one of the papers I read, that one cannot really demarcate the left and right sides of the brain and attribute them to talents. It's true that some modules (that help us draw for example), are located on a distinct side. But every activity is such a complex amalgamation of various modules of the brain spread in so many domains that one cannot really call a person right or left brained. And that shows you how I have started viewing everything around me in terms of facts and experiments.


I cringed away from biology and medicine because I was too idealistic to see the human body as mere flesh and bones, and to talk and study about it like a machine, in a matter of fact. Now I am studying the human brain/cognition, and day by day I realize that I am studying the mind as a machine.... far worse. But if there is one thing that I am all the more intrigued about, it is the complexity of living beings. Each branch of science has been struggling to discover the ultimate mysteries and is ventured in the quest for truth. We all stumble upon one major block that is almost impossible to be answered or unraveled. All branches of science seem to assemble at this junction where they each have a question - a single question that holds the key to many fundamental questions. This question seems to be the borderline between Science and Spirituality. For example, consciousness. Some scientists have written proofs as to why it is impossible to study, let alone figure out consciousness. "What is it being like a bat?", is a popular phrase. "What is it being like me?"... is it the same as being like you? Can I experience what is it that you are?


I tried to answer that question to myself... What is it being like me. And it led me to this weird state of feeling, where I felt like a third person looking at this girl and what she was going about doing. It gave rise to a whole lot of interesting, albeit creepy thoughts about who I really am, where I came from, where will I go in the end, is consciousness nothing but my soul... etc. Half way along I realized that those questions are precursors to lead one on a spiritual quest... a quest for self-realization. It's not surprising that most renowned scientists were also philosophers. It almost seems inevitable. I am not equating myself to a good scientist, let alone even a scientist, but it's a wonderful revelation to reach this juncture where I am humbled by Nature and its creations. It has opened my mind to questions that I merely dismissed a few years back; it has made me question those "facts" of life that I took for granted.


So yes, it is a curse that I have become too inquisitive about life and I have already started doing crazy things like placing my phone in the fridge and running around in circles, but I hope I haven't lost all of my idealism and insane imaginations.