Stupidity, Intelligence and Erudition

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In this world the apogee of intellect is to be very clever, very smart, very complex, very erudite. I do not know why people carry erudition in their brains – why not leave it on the library shelf? The computers are very erudite. Erudition has nothing whatsoever to do with intelligence. To see things as they are, in ourselves, without bringing about conflict in perceiving what we are needs tremendous simplicity of intelligence. I am a fool, I am a liar, I am angry and so on: I observe it, I learn about it, not relying on any authority, I do not resist it, I do not say ‘I must be different’, it is just there.

We live in confusion. What should one do? If I am stupid, Sir, it is no good trying to polish that stupidity, trying to become clever. First I must know I am stupid, that I am dull. The very awareness of my dullness is to be free of that dullness. To say ‘I am a fool’, not verbally but actually say ‘Well, I am a fool’, then you are already watchful, you are no longer a fool. But if you resist what you are, then your dullness becomes more and more.

Love and Pleasure

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Is love thought or its product? Can love be cultivated by thought - become a habit? Is love pleasure? Love as we know is essentially the pursuit of pleasure. And if love is pleasure, then love is also fear - no?

What is pleasure? We are not denying pleasure; not saying we must not have pleasure; that would be absurd. What is pleasure?  You saw the sunset yesterday evening; at the moment of perception there was neither pleasure nor pain, there was only an immediate contact with that reality. But a few minutes later you began to think about it; 'what a delightful thing that was'. It is the same with sex. You think about it by building images and pictures; thinking about it gives you pleasure. In the same way, thinking about the loss of that pleasure - you have fear - thinking about not having a job tomorrow, being lonely, not being loved, not being capable of self-expression and so on. This machinery of "thinking about it" causes both pleasure and fear.

Is love to be cultivated as you would cultivate a plant? Is love to be cultivated by thought? - knowing thought breeds pleasure and fear. One has to learn what love is, learn, not accumulate what others have said about love -

To understand love is to understand death. If one does not die to the past, how can one love? If I do not die to the image of myself and to the image of my wife, how can I love?

One Drop

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एक् खत्र हयात को सिखाता है सबख

क्भी शब्नम बना कभी गोहर बना कभी अस्ख   - Iqbal

ఒక బిందువు జీవితానికి నేర్పుతుంది పాఠం
ఒకపుడు మంచు ఒకపుడు ముత్యం ఒకపుడు భాష్ప బిందువు..

The problem of transalation

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The problem of popularization should take a different way, like Mexican corridos(songs), stories, feature films etc.,

If you pick up some topic, for instance, 'ethical domain' it has a it has a specific referent. The moment you translate it to Telugu, it picks up all garbage from Manu to Dharma Saastras. These concepts are loaded with specific semantic content. When you translate, the semantic content gets replaced with commonsense. Philosophy of languages pick up this topic. The semantic content of these concepts are part and parcel of a theory.

A theory is independent of natural language. It can be said to be in a formal language. However, some or another formal language becomes part of commonsense. For instance electron, gene etc., are part of specific theories. They are also part of today's natural language.

Imagine a future theory, which is better than current theory. In that case, the concept and its referent gets changed. However, the commonsense retains the old stuff. One can't use commonsense to criticize this new theory. That people have been using is not evidence for truth of any theory. Even the word theory has a specific reference. These things will be known in the course of studying theories about theories.

Light, my light, the world-filling light,

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Light, my light, the world-filling light,

the eye-kissing light,

heart-sweetening light!


Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the center of my life;

the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love;

the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth. -    Tagore






Where do I find that world-filling, eye-kissing and heart-sweetening Light?