History is not only a document that lists events of the past, but also a warning about what may happen in the future. Warnings are not lullabies. The philosophy of hunger is that everybody gets hungry. Hence hunger, which is in our biological nature, teaches us equality. Which means poverty is a great organizer. There is hunger in the stomach, there is harvested crop in the barn – but these two things are not interlinked. This is what led to the struggles that threw away feudalism in the state. Hunger is a biological truth. Be it a rich person, a poor person or an intellectual, all are equal before this biological truth. The leftists in the state rooted and spread their wings as a symbol of the hungry class. Though most of us have forgotten, atleast some of us remember that the Comrades who made an indelible mark of their times in history did it through sacrifice and martyrdom. Our forefathers realized that sacrifice is a very fundamental social reality. There is no higher sacrifice than death. Because your life is the maximum you can give for a cause, and it is a very strong factor in driving a cause. Hence sacrifice becomes the initial capital of an ideology. The idea of unity among the oppressed class leads to the idea of sacrifice for the oppressed class. This is the greatest sacrifice the Party can do for the social human being. The meaning, value and history of KrishnaPillai’s or Bhagat Singh’s sacrifice is that they did not do it for themselves, but for the society. Hence martyrdom constructs ethos. Ethos creates an Organization. And then the Organization develops, expands – it becomes a Miracle, it becomes a Spectacle, it becomes a Mob. – M N Vijayan, 25 June 2005 (Translated from malayalam)

Suggested Read : George Orwell, 1984

JENSEN :
You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. Beale,
and I won’t have it, is that clear?!

You think you have merely stopped a
business deal—that is not the case!
The Arabs have taken billions of dollars out of this country, and
now they must put it back. It is ebb and flow, tidal gravity, it is
ecological balance!

You are an old man who thinks in terms of nations
and peoples. There are no nations!There are no peoples!
There are no Russians. There are no Arabs!
There are no third worlds! There is no West!
There is only one holistic system of systems, one vast and
immane, interwoven, interacting, multi-variate, multi-national
dominion of dollars! petro-dollars, electro-dollars, multi-dollars!,
Reichmarks, rubles, rin, pounds and shekels!

It is the international system of currency that determines
the totality of life on this planet!
That is the natural order of things today! That is the atomic,
subatomic and galactic structure of things today!
And you have meddled with the primal forces of nature,
and you will atone!
Am I getting through to you, Mr. Beale?
(pause)
You get up on your little twenty-
one inch screen, and howl about America and democracy.
There is no America. There is no democracy.
There is only IBM and ITT and A T and T and Dupont, Dow, Union Carbide
and Exxon.
Those are the nations of the world today. What do you think
the Russians talk about in their councils of state—Karl Marx?
They pull out their linear programming charts, statistical
decision theories and minimax solutions and compute the price-cost
probabilities of their transactions and investments just like we do. We
no longer live in a world of nations and ideologies, Mr. Beale.
The world is a college of corporations, inexorably deter- mined by the
immutable by-laws of business. The world is a business, Mr. Beale! It
has been since man crawled out of the slime, and our children, Mr.
Beale, will live to see that perfect world in which there is no war and
famine, oppression and brutality—
one vast and ecumenical holding
company, for whom all men will work
to serve a common profit, in which
all men will hold a share of stock,
all necessities provided, all
anxieties tranquilized, all boredom
amused. And I have chosen you to
preach this evangel, Mr. Beale.

HOWARD :
(humble whisper)
Why me?

JENSEN :
Because you’re on television, dummy.
Sixty million people watch you
every night of the week, Monday
through Friday.

HOWARD slowly rises from the blackness of his seat so
that he is lit only by the ethereal diffusion of light
shooting out from the rear of the room. He stares at
JENSEN spotted on the podium, transfixed.

HOWARD :
I have seen the face of God!

Suggested DVD : NETWORK

They are perfect, ancient, Sanskrit,
machines that admit of no appeal.

They do not bite to eat,
they bite only to jump;

they are the dancers of the celestial sphere,
delicate acrobats

in the softest and most profound circus;
let them gallop on my skin,

divulge their emotions,
amuse themselves with my blood,

but someone should introduce them to me.
I want to know them closely,
I want to know what to rely on.

Suggested read : Pablo Neruda

Suggested rythm : tAi tOmAr Ananda AmAr par – Pankaj Mallik – Rabeendra Sangeeth

My elder sister, said the little spore to the bigger spore, let us see
what lies beyond. This valley is green, replied the bigger spore,
I shall journey no farther.

I want to journey, said the little spore, I want to discover. She
gazed in wonder at the path before her.
Will you forget your sister ? asked the bigger spore.
Never, said the little spore.
You will little one, for this is the loveless tale of karma; in it
there is only parting and sorrow.

The little spore journeyed on. The bigger spore stayed back in the
valley. Her root pierced the damp earth and sought the nutrients of death
and memory. She sprouted over the earth, green and contended.

A girl with silver anklets and eyes prettied with surma came to
Chetali’s valley to gather flowers. The Chempaka tree stood alone-
efflorescent, serene. The flower gatherer reached out and held down a soft
twig to pluck the flowers. As the twig broke the Chempaka said,
My little sister you have forgotten me !