How the twain shall meet - I: The false dilemma

Quite regularly, on the "mainstream" media and social media, some spiritual guru makes news -- often for all the wrong reasons. This news is followed by a coterie of skeptics heaping mud on the "self-styled godmen" and often silently wondering how the heck did these people get so rich, when they don't feature on stock markets, business news or politics.

Indeed, there are several spiritual movements and spiritual heads in India that are extremely rich. India hosts the world's richest deity -- some of its spiritual gurus have their own air fields, islands, and so on. The skeptics often see these as evidence of foul play and often conjure elaborate theories.

No doubt, there are unscrupulous elements in the "spirituality industry" who often use their organizations as a front for something else.

However, there are ample examples of spiritual movements in India which enjoy a vast global following, with ample donations and volunteer services. Many of these movements are so large that they have a complete ecosystem under their umbrella -- supporting not just individuals, but also businesses and organizations like hospitals and universities. Surely, there must be something to such "pseudo-science" if it can garner such a huge following?

How do these "pseudo-scientific" movements gather so much momentum and support from so many people across the world? For the "mainstream" it appears baffling that there could be so many irrational and gullible people all over the world.

However, we only need to adjust our vantage point and question our axioms a little, in order to see what really is happening.

Rudyard Kipling once said, "East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet."

Sadly, it is this "Western" kind of thinking that still runs our "mainstream" institutions the world over, because of which, this false dilemma refuses to budge.

It is also like this video by Mark Gungor who has a theory about "male and female brains" -- where the "male" brain supposedly organizes the world into neat little boxes and thinks only inside a box; while in the female brain on the other hand, everything is connected to everything else, and is run with an energy called emotion.

Somebody should tell Mr. Gungor that his theory is a "male" theory, which classifies brain types into neat little boxes called "male brain" and "female brain", while a "female" theory would not see such water-tight distinctions in the first place!

The Western model of thinking, which largely drives our institutional lives today has its roots in ancient Greece, where philosophers looked at the physical world outside of us and tried to build models to understand its phenomena. They invented a lot of underpinnings that govern Western thought today -- mechanics, physics, geometry, meta-physics, and so on.

Such a thought process was driven by a process of articulation -- or breaking up a complex system into smaller parts for the purposes of understanding. It was also instrumental in discovering several other important elements that form the underpinnings of our intellectual lives today like objectivity, stoicism, critical thinking and so on.

In contrast, the East had a much stronger focus on exploring the world within ourselves. These thought processes took root in lands that were rich with biodiversity, with several life forms often interacting and competing with one another. There was a strong impetus to understand what life is all about and how can different forms of life coexist peacefully.

Exploration into the inner world revealed early on to the Eastern philosophers that our intellectual selves are only a small, conscious part of who we are, and for most of our lives, we are driven by our emotional selves. This thought process also needed another important skill -- harmonization.Our emotional selves are not monolithic entities. They are in turn, driven by several autonomous cognitive centers (called "chakras" in Eastern thought), which often interfere with one another. The problem of harmonizing between different life forms in the outside world, manifested itself as the problem of harmonizing the different chakras in the inside world.

Also, unlike physical objects in the night sky, it is very difficult for us to be dispassionate observers of emotions. We are hard wired to catch emotions from elsewhere, and our own emotions can grip our minds so that we "become" our emotions. We are our emotions and when we observe ourselves, the observer is not completely disjoint from the observed.

So just like critical thinking became the ideal cornerstone of Western thought, Eastern thought developed a cornerstone called stithaprajna (often known as "mindfulness" in the West). It refers to a state of mind where we observe ourselves and our emotions without judgment and without letting them become us.

Just like the Western world developed several laws of physics over the centuries, the Eastern world developed several theories of the mind addressing elements like consciousness, self, identity, awareness, etc.

Just like the Western world likes to believe that everything is ultimately physics, the Eastern world believes that everything is ultimately mind. Processes and phenomena that posed challenges in the world outside, also existed in the world within. This lead to modeling the universe itself as a life form, comprising of several autonomous elements. The sense of self for the universe became the universal soul (Paramatma) of which our own souls (Atma) or sense of self were mere elements.

One of the early discoveries of the Eastern thought is the discovery of invariants that determine life and ecological processes. This is called "dharma". Dharma manifests as homeostasis in the biological realm, and the notion of "sustainability" comes closest to the concept of dharma in the ecological realm.

Translation of the concept of dharma by the Western mind as either "religion" or "ethics" or "righteousness" or "discipline" or "duty" has rendered a great disservice towards understanding this important concept. Dharma is far more fundamental -- it is the essence of life, of habitability of Earth and of sustainability of a complex ecosystem.

The concept of dharma is so fundamental to Eastern thought, it drove collective thought in a large part of the world that now comprises of the region involving Pakistan to South and South-east Asia. Dharmic cultures are what are equated with "religions" in today's narrative. What is today called the "Hindu religion" denotes a vast array of dharmic subcultures, including Buddhism, which the Western world encountered independently in other countries and seeks to distinguish from Hinduism (which itself does not mean one thing).

At a fundamental level, the East never really saw themselves as different from the West -- all of us are humans, driven by the same algebra of emotions and driven by dharma. But for the West, in order to understand something complex, they needed to articulate and break down the universe into neat little boxes, thus creating a huge chasm between the East and the West.

The East tried to reach out to the West using the epistemological tools at their disposal. This instantly made them into quaint and exotic mystics in the eyes of the West. The West in turn used its tools (meant for understanding physics), to understand the mind. And ended up boxing psychology and humanities into a category called "soft sciences" or in the words of Dr. Sheldon Cooper of the Big Bang Theory -- the "doofus of the sciences."

It is hence difficult for them to understand how these scientific doofus are able to "command" a huge following all over the world and create such big "empires" including high profile followers who are known to be scientifically minded. As long as they try to understand this phenomena using the mental model that is used to understand physics, they will remain perplexed and suspicious.

In contrast, the East is increasingly exposed to the Western way of thinking -- so much so that several folks take pride in treating their cultural moorings with contempt by trying to understand it from a framework that is inadequate. However, it is not before long that many of them get driven towards genuinely understanding Eastern thought looking past the labels, stereotypes and one's own paralyzing sense of contempt.

Are predators really needed in nature?

There is an argument about why predators like the tiger and the leopard are really needed in the jungle. If not for the predators, apparently, the meek (non-predators) would multiply so much and consume so much of the vegetation that the ecological balance of the jungle would be upset.

The above argument is often syncretically extended to human societies and applied to human relationships, business, governance and so on. Predatory strategies abound in all these places, where the "meek" are destroyed or consumed by the "strong" (euphemism for predators) not just to feed the predator's sense of entitlement, but also purportedly, to keep some kind of social balance.

It is easy to see the flaw in this argument. There are several forests that are home to deers and other "meek" creatures, with no predators to feed on them (for instance, the Jayamangali deer sanctuary near Tumkur). These forests have not exactly dwindled due to the deers. Deer population has not exactly grown in an unfettered fashion because of the vegetation and absence of predators.

Evolutionary forces are at work that regulates the deer population despite having no predators to feed on them.

The above justification for the existence of predators gives too little credit for the sophistication of evolutionary survival strategies. Evolution often plays out in very nuanced ways and has its own mechanisms to estimate the survivability of offspring in the given context.

Populations usually grow in an unfettered fashion when they are suddenly released from a stressful situation (for example, the baby boom following the second world war). But in a steady state with no external threat, the population also tends to stabilize to an optimal reproduction rate.

The justification for predators assumes that the meek (non-predators) are also stupid. As long as there are resources, the meek will keep growing until they choke to death. It goes without saying that it is a preposterous assumption. The meek do not feed on others -- but this does not mean that they are stupid enough to not be able to regulate themselves. They may well be intelligent enough to estimate the demand for resources by the population and live accordingly.

In fact, I would like to argue that predators are just a local optima in the evolutionary game over the ages. They are going to be overshadowed as the evolutionary system jiggles its way out of the local optima. Predators get instant payoffs by feeding on others. However, predators also easily become the object of distrust and non-cooperation by others. The predators need to be strong all the time. The moment they lose their strength, they stand to be overpowered by the ample number of enemies they would have created. Predators are usually lonely and territorial, thus reducing their robustness towards facing unanticipated changes in the environment.

Predatory strategies are hence unlikely to be evolutionarily stable strategies (ESS). The great predators from the dinosaurs like the T-Rex or Velociraptor were the first to be extinct. None of the predatory dinosaurs seem to have evolved into the birds of today and retained the same level of predatory abilities. The predatory abilities of birds today are vastly diminished compared to their ancestors -- the dinosaurs.

Similarly, the most ferocious of the wild animals are also usually the most endangered ones. Lions and tigers are endangered, while pigeons, deers and rabbits are not.

Finally, to argue that predators have a "purpose" for existence, is to accept that life on earth is a result of "intelligent design" rather than evolution. Predators just evolved from the dynamics of the past. There is no reason to believe that this evolutionary quirk is stable or sustainable.

So, it is quite likely that the (sophisticated) meek shall indeed inherit the earth.

Understanding Vidhi

Some time ago, I'd written about understanding the concept of "dharma" that has shaped the thought of south and south-east Asian cultures. Common misconceptions about dharma meaning "religion" or "duty" or "ethics" were rejected in favour of an interpretation of dharma as the "principle of sustainability."

This interpretation helps us to maximally explain different characteristics of dharmic cultures -- especially the diverse set of ideas and practices that are considered dharmic in different contexts. Imagine interpreting "dharma" as "ethics" leading us to a flawed conclusion that in Eastern cultures ethics is relative. This explains the misplaced contempt with which other conservative cultures view Eastern thought.

Another similarly mistaken notion is the concept of vidhi. Vidhi is widely translated as "fate" and the central role vidhi plays in Eastern thought, makes our cultures appear to be "fatalistic." This is often used (incorrectly) to portray Indians as lacking initiative and refusing to take charge of situations. This incorrect interpretation is so ingrained and repeated so often (and even taught in "mainstream" schools) that entire generations in India have grown up with such a skewed understanding of their cultural moorings.

In sanskrit, the term "Vidhi" also means "schema" -- and in fact, I would argue that this is the correct interpretation of the term.

So, how did the term for "schema" come to be used for "fate"?

The idea of vidhi is that, our lives are situated within a larger scheme of things made up of the social and physical context in which we live. The scheme of things has its own characteristics, most of which are beyond our control to alter. We can however, operate with free will within this scheme.

In contrast, "fate" as a sense of helplessness or powerlessness to it. If something is in our fate, it is imminent -- it is doomed to happen to us.

In a worldview driven by fate, we are mere passengers in a vehicle that is driven by our fate. We cannot control our fate, while we have to suffer any negative consequences of its actions.

In contrast, "vidhi" is like the contours of the terrain in which we are driving our vehicle. We are in charge of our vehicle -- and it is our actions that lead to consequences for us. The terrain may have its own characteristics. Some terrains may be smooth, while some may be made up of treacherous mountain passes. While we cannot change the terrain, we still have control over our vehicle and it is up to us, how we navigate in this terrain.

We are also not completely powerless against the terrain. We can modify the terrain -- we can build roads, tunnels, bridges and so on to help us navigate our vehicles. But all such actions to modify the terrain will have consequences. Thus, it is important to modify our terrain keeping in mind, the principle of dharma (sustainability).

Vidhi as "schema" and dharma as "sustainability" mix together beautifully.

A more closer term for "fate" is bhagya. But even that is not very accurate. Fate is about the future, while bhagya is about the past. Bhagya is about what happened in our past, because of which we are either endowed or constrained in some fashion. While fate is about what is imminent or inevitable about our future.

In the Mahabharata, Dritharashtra, the prince of Hastinapur was born blind, even though he had all other qualities of a warrior prince. His biggest frustration was about his "durbhagya" (bad bhagya) --  his blindness -- which caused him to go into a life long state of depression.

Several times, the sage Vyasa tries to explain to him that his blindness need not stop him from leading a life of happiness and spiritual fulfillment. He says that his bhagya has only closed one dimension of experience in his life (much like a car lacking headlights), but his life can still be driven by his imagination. It is up to him as to what kind of dreams he dares to dream.

Dritharashtra does not get his point and instead curtly cuts off every such conversation. After his brother Pandu's death, it becomes evident to sage Vyasa that Dritharashtra, who was now crowned the king of Hastinapur, only spells danger for the kingdom. His obsession with his durbhagya will severely impair his sense of dharma and have disastrous consequences on the kingdom and its people. But having no way to substantiate his fears, he is unable to do anything. He simply convinces his mother and her sisters that their time in Hastinapur is now over and they should head to the forest in renunciation, for their next stage of life.

The limits of informed consent

In the liberal worldview, informed consent is seen as the cornerstone of all kinds of relationships, be it personal or professional.

Often times, relationships operate under some form of a "power asymmetry" where one party dominates over the other in some matters. For instance, bosses can overrule their reportees, a higher court can upturn the decision of a lower court, and so on.

Sometimes, power asymmetry crosses objective boundaries and tread into the personal lives and the individuality of the people involved. For instance, the military controls personal lives of its personnel to a large extent and agents in the movie industry often dictate to their clients when they can get married, and so on.

Such cases often poses ethical dilemmas, which are often sought to be resolved using the "informed consent" axiom. Basically, it means that if someone willfully and knowingly enters into a relationship where they experience power asymmetry positioned against them, they don't have a case for justice.

But this post is meant to argue that even informed consent has its limits.

To make my point, let me take the example of some of the new forms of employee "productivity enhancement" tools. Some of them collect so much data from employees in the name of integrity or productivity. These data include elements like their location, their phone details, their internet usage details, details about web pages visited, email details, details about time spent at different locations at work, and even details about emotional state and inter-personal relationships.

The "informed consent" in such cases are often vacuous. Usually, consent about these measures are buried in a long legal contract, for which the employees just have two choices: take it or leave it. Existing employees consent to such contract mostly out of fear of losing their jobs. Indeed, anyone trying to speak against such measures are immediately seen as suspects of some sort, trying to undermine the organizational goals for personal gain.

Such practices are not only unethical and counter-productive, I also believe that they should be made illegal. Labour laws of today were basically framed in response to centuries of exploitation of employees under different other forms of such "productivity enhancement" measures. Advances in information technology and data sciences have opened a backdoor to these practices to be reinvigorated. We should not wait till things reach such desperate levels, before framing adequate laws.

One might argue that such forms of power asymmetry controlling one's personal lives also exist in cases like doctors and patients, lawyers and clients, etc. The difference here is that in these cases, personal information and power asymmetry is used for the direct benefit of the one below in the power asymmetry. This is not the case with the "productivity enhancement" example. In this case, power asymmetry is used for greater benefit for the company, which may or may not trickle back to the employees whose personal lives and individuality were intruded upon. Secondly, with the case of doctors or lawyers, the personal information collected is directly relevant to the problem being faced by the recipient which is sought to be solved. While in the case of employees, even if they get back a benefit in the form of a better pay, it may not directly compensate for the personal information and control relinquished by them.

Informed consent is meaningless when there are no available choices to those facing power asymmetry stacked against them.

Connundrums around culture preservation

As a researcher interested in understanding how the Web is shaping the world, studying cultural challenges in India provides enormous insight into issues that the world at large is facing.

India is a country with incredible, innate diversity. This diversity is not something that is brought by immigrants joining a great big melting pot, like in the case of the US. Our diversity is innate. It has been there for centuries. There is no larger melting-pot infrastructure that can override and overrule cultural differences. Each cultural group believes they represent the real India.

In addition to myriad languages and cultural practices, there is also diversity in paradigms -- or mental models about how the world works. There is a saying that Indian culture is like a long snake. One end of the snake is in the 21st century, writing software and launching Mars missions; while the other end of the snake lives with a lifestyle that has not changed ever since recorded history.

There are places that pride themselves to live with 19th century values. There are subcultures that are still emotionally attached to 17th century rulers. And then there are tribes like the Jaruwa and the Sentinels who live in a hunter-gatherer lifestyle in secluded islands cut off from the rest of the country.

The question about how or whether to integrate these disparate cultures have been the subject of intense debates.

On the one hand, "cultural preservationists" argue that culture should be preserved as they embody not just practice, but also knowledge that is deeply local and relevant. Culture preservation is also seen as a humane philosophy of governance, in stark contrast to colonialism or imperialism that impose a culture on the population.

But on the other end of the spectrum are "cultural integrationists" who are worried about effects like entrenchment and cultural isolationism, and the social, economic and biological problems it creates. Too much of cultural protection creates an element of isolation and inbreeding that has severe consequences both in the biological as well as cognitive development of the individual.

As an example, following the 26th Dec 2004 tsunami, an Indian Air force helicopter went on a sortie around the Sentinel island in the Nicobar to assess damage to the tribes if any. They reported that the tribes came out in force and shot arrows at the helicopter to drive it away.

Now imagine a young man in that tribe, seeing a helicopter for the first time. His curiosity would likely be aroused to an extent that he would want to explore the world outside. But the strong tribal norms in his culture would have likely prevented him from pursuing his dreams and he would most likely end up learning how to spear fish like all others.

Cultural isolationism, and even milder forms like cultural entrenchment (cultures having too little interaction with the outside world) lead to problems of "local minima" where there is a lot of resistance to new ideas and practices that could potentially hold solutions to their long standing problems.

Entrenchment also fans ideologies of "us versus them" and poses a hurdle towards understanding universal human values. A collection of entrenched subcultures would likely nurture distrust, xenophobia and discrimination across subcultures.

On the other hand, cultural integration is not without its problems either. The Sentinels for example, are known to be extremely vulnerable to some of the diseases that are common in the rest of the world. As their tribe have never faced these diseases, their bodies have not developed the required immunity. Forcing them to integrate with the rest of the country, might actually put them in mortal risk.

In addition, often times "integration" simply means "homogenization". A stronger subculture usually bullies itself on the rest, in the name of integration. Like the term "globalization" getting equated to "Mcdonaldization." A city is called "globalized" if it has McDonald's or Pizza Huts. But it is not considered necessary for a "globalized" city to also have a Darshini or an MTR or a Saravana Bhavan.

Similarly, it is said that Bollywood is a great engine of national integration. In a Bollywood movie, the actors could be from any part of India -- say Gujarat or Bengal or Tamil Nadu or Chattisgarh. But ultimately, in their hearts, they are all Punjabi, and break out into a bhangda at weddings! :-)

While homogenization in movies is likely benign, when it comes to cultural integration it is just as dangerous, if not more, than cultural isolationism or entrenchment. It leads to eradication of a highly pertinent local knowledge, practices and paradigms.

This is exemplified by an anecdote mentioned in our convocation address by a professor from IIT Kharagpur. As part of their outreach efforts, they were given the mandate to bring "development" to tribal areas in their state. However, despite several efforts, they found that the tribals were opposing digging of borewells that would mitigate water shortage in their area. When asked why are they opposing, they had this to say: "We consider the Earth as our mother and drink whatever water she has to offer on her surface. We do not believe in injecting her with a syringe and pulling out her blood, if she does not provide enough water!" 

The profundity of this statement stumped the folks wanting to bring "development" to them. The tribals were not asking for water. They were asking to get back their lifestyle where they lived in harmony with nature, and not in confrontation with it!

In their worldview, nature has personal boundaries too. The water that is below the surface -- it is believed that nature keeps it for its own functioning, while the water that is on the surface is what it provides for us to live on.

A worldview that establishes personal boundaries for nature and treats it as an interested party in any decision-making is solely missing in our "developed", "globalized" worldview.

Understanding Dharma

That Hinduism is grossly misunderstood in the West (which still wield a lot of influence and power in India) is an understatement. Given that a significant percentage of the population in India practice some form of Hinduism, this often leads to controversies and skirmishes that captures and polarizes popular opinion.

The most recent episode is the recent controversy around a ban on cow slaughter and consumption of beef in several parts of the country.

This post is not about the particularities of the above controversy -- it is about how the controversy is understood and interpreted in the two different parts of the world.

I remember several years ago in Europe, when someone asked me to explain "Manu Smriti," I asked him, "What is Manu Smriti"? I was not in denial; I had never really heard of it till then. Neither had I heard of Paneer Tikka Masala, which according to them was our favourite food.

After listening to my story of how we practiced Hinduism in our homes, his next question was, "So, who is a true Hindu"?

Even that question made no sense to me, and I vaguely answered using the standard boilerplate template that "Hindu is a word that was coined by the Arabs" and "Hinduism is not a religion, but a way of life." I was not sure myself what that meant, and I could see that my European host lost any respect he had for this "religion" and came to believe that Hinduism is nihilistic, and that anything goes. "After all, there are millions of Gods in this strange religion," he must have thought.

Over the next several years I tried to learn as much as possible about my cultural moorings -- not specifics in terms of particular sayings, but in terms of trying to understand the underlying thought process. And some time ago, I'd provided this answer to a question on Quora about Hinduism, that captures essential elements of what I'd learned.

At the core, Hinduism is a philosophy (described in the Vedas) that tries to ask questions about the source or the root of everything -- and pretty much gives up right in the first paragraph of the first Veda. Essentially, the idea is that any description of the root, forces the question, where did that feature come from, hinting that this is not the root. It goes on to say that this root entity "that which is" cannot even be said to "exist" because it is the creator of existence. It cannot be described, because it created the framework in which descriptions are given. "That which is" cannot be explained -- it can only be realized. In other words, "that which is" becomes us.

And then, the texts go on to provide a number of heuristics or pathways (called "marga") to help the seeker realize that "that which is" that is being talked about. There are different pathways like knowledge (jnana), devotion (bhakti), harmonization (yoga), etc. none of which by themselves will guarantee realization, but make it easier for the seeker when they follow such a path.

So fundamentally, Hinduism as a practice is deeply personal. It is up to the seeker and his/her chosen pathway that determines what they practice and how they approach the pursuit. The millions of "Gods" of Hinduism are actually "deities" that act as pathways in our pursuit of the ultimate realization. There is the Oneness of "that which is" that is behind the millions of the deities.

Social elements like rituals, festivals and ceremonies that are commonly associated with Hinduism come from the evolved practices in ancient India that were fundamentally based on the above paradigm.

An important element of the social practice in these societies is the concept of "dharma" -- something that is again widely misunderstood.

In our English medium school education, we were taught that dharma meant "religion" or "faith". In some other contexts we were told dharma means "duty" or "ethics" or something else.

Wikipedia rightfully declares that the concept of "dharma" has no exact translation in English.

However, I recently realized from a friend that there is a word that comes quite close: sustainability.

The notion is dharma is based on designing systems in a way that they are "sustainable". Dharma is attached to just about every element in life. There is Raja dharma or "sustainable administration," there is Vrutti dharma or "sustainable business" and so on.

What is normally associated with Hinduism was what was earlier known as "Sanatana dharma" or "sustainable co-habitation." As the name suggests, this refers to principles and guidelines that help in making co-habitation sustainable, essentially including elements like inclusiveness, tolerance, celebration of diversity, etc.

The way dharma was practiced also has specific characteristics that are alien to the Western framework of thinking. Here are some of them.

1. By definition, dharma is holistic in nature -- it addresses the system as a whole and tries to harmonize between the different interests that cohabit the system. This is in contrast to the process of articulation that is central to Western thought, where we study each element in isolation to understand its characteristics. 
2. Since it is difficult for the human mind to process very large systems holistically, dharmic traditions were practiced in clusters that were loosely knit between themselves, within each of which, a dharmic framework could be reasonably managed. 
3. While the underlying purpose is the same (sustainability), dharmic principles differed from one cluster to another based on the physical and social context in which it was situated. Hence, there are Hindus who eat meat and there are Hindus who are strict vegetarians. There were Hindu societies that had strict social and family norms, while there were Hindu societies that had very liberal outlooks on issues like marriage. There is no contradiction. Because, dharma are not edicts or commandments, they are guidelines and principles towards a deeper goal called sustainability.
4. Dharmic knowledge were managed in two broad ways called Sruti and Smriti. Sruti means "that which is heard" and pertains to knowledge that are managed by word of mouth. Smriti refers to knowledge that are written down and communicated. The "Manu Smriti" that is often considered by the West as the "holy book" of Hindus, is just one of the several Smritis generated in one of the different dharmic contexts. (I always thought our holy book was the Bhagwad Geeta.. no wait, it was the Vedas themselves.. no.. it was the Puranas.. or was it the epics.. oh well!) Which is why, where we lived, we had never heard of it. As noted earlier, Smritis are not commandments and are not binding rules -- they are guidelines and heuristics. The only "binding" goal is sustainability. 

Between 2500 to 500 years ago the above mode of thinking permeated almost a third of the world's population which dwelt in South Asia. Most of the "religions" that were born in this framework have a similar "holistic" approach towards managing society -- be in Buddhism or Jainism or Vaishnavism. 

Sustainability does not imply lack of conflict, and indeed there were several conflicts and wars in ancient India. However, the interesting thing was that these wars often had their own dharma (yuddha dharma) or were fought in order to uphold dharma (dharma yuddha). 

What is interesting to note here is that, the reason for war was upholding of dharma, rather than to conquer and rule over the opponent (this is not to say that this never happened). This is very different from say, the wars described in the Illiad and the Odyssey that were fought for values like honour and pride. 

The Indian paradigm is also sometimes thought to be the manifestation of the so-called "feminine" energy that upholds characteristics like nurturing, harmonizing and sustaining life; while the Western paradigm is thought to be the manifestation of the so-called "masculine" energy that upholds characteristics like defeating an adversary, taking charge and control of our lives, and upholds order and law.

Your emotional disposition is more than just who you are...

For a couple of years now, I have been practicing a technique called "mindfulness" -- a term, which is used in several senses by different people, so let me define it here.

It is a technique by which we try to understand our emotional disposition or emotional profile, by observing our emotions over a long period of time.

Emotional disposition is different from our emotional "state" -- the latter simply refers to how we are feeling right now. Emotional states are transient, and in fact, just asking someone how are they feeling, may make them feel different.

Our emotional disposition is our strategic tendency to be in certain areas of the emotional state space, than certain others. It is how we tend to feel and what we tend to pursue when we are under no external pressure.

In that sense, our emotional disposition is "who we are" as a person.

But, it is more than just about who we are.

If we find out things about ourselves -- things that we intensely desire, or intensely despise, and cannot attribute it to any childhood experience, then it is likely to be a characteristic property of our emotional disposition. But where did that characteristic property come from?

The only place it could have come from is our genes. And my conjecture was that forces of evolution encodes emotionally intense experiences of a parent generation, into the genetic code of the next generation.

A recent paper in the Biological Psychiatry journal addresses the same issue and confirms the conjecture. This article in the Guardian, explains more about this phenomenon called epigenetic inheritance.

This is nature's way of recording history. There is an "official" version of history that we are taught in schools and then there is this "personal" version of history that affects us directly.