Ride to Heaven : Devdutt Pattanaik***********

Ride to Heaven : Devdutt Pattanaik

Ride to Heaven

Apr 11, 2010 | World Mythology.

Printed in Speaking Tree supplement, Times of India, 21 March 2010
Imagine a man who earns less than Rs. 100/- a day and supporting a family of four, watching his starving children and his unhappy wife day in and day out. Imagine him being given money and a purpose, one that will help him vent his rage against society and guarantee him a place in heaven. All he has to do is allow himself to killed. It is not suicide, he is told. Suicide is vile. It is a sacrifice, an offering of faith. This is your candidate for suicide bombing. By surrendering to the narrative presented before him, he suddenly becomes a significant member of society, respected by his peers and feared by his enemies. With this one decision, he suddenly matters. He is not one of the countless hungry faces in the fringes of society who have been forgotten.
What is interesting to note is the apparent faith of the suicide bomber in heaven, the place where he will go after death. One hears of terrorist bombers believing in a paradise where they will be welcomed and given seventy-two virgins to marry. Is that true? For the person who believes it, it is true. For the person who propogates it, it is true. For the rest, it is imagination. Heaven is not an objective reality. But is a subjective reality. And every culture has used the idea of heaven to influence the behavior of people in society.
In the 19^th century, an idea was proposed, that during the crusades a band of murderers were given hashish, a drug that induced hallucinations. This gave them visions of paradise and gave them the strength to kill their feared enemies. Since hashish played a key role in turning them into lethal killers, they became known as assassins. Modern scholars feel this is orientalist nonsense. There was no such band of hashish-using assassins. But the idea of being seduced by a drug and a vision and a story rings true.
The ferocious Viking warriors of Europe believed that if they fought fiercely and died on the battlefield, beautiful women known as Valkyrie would carry them up to Valhalla, the hall of the gods, where they would be welcomed as heroes and allowed to drink and dine with the gods and fight beside them in their great celestial battles. It is this tale that made them ferocious warriors.
The idea of heaven motivates people across the world. The Chinese believed in Tian, heaven which had a Jade Emperor with his very own bureaucracy. They modeled their entire civilization to replicate the perfection of this world they imagined. Ancient Egyptians believed in the heaven of Osiris into which one gained access after death if one managed to perform the right rituals and preserve the body. This vision of heaven motivated them to build their tombs and their magnificent pyramids.
One can dismiss the idea of heaven as superstition and myth. This stems from the assumption that those who do not believe in heaven are rational, scientific and therefore superior. Look around you – there are millions of people who believe that if they earn the next million, they will be happy; if they lose the next inch around their waist, they will be happy; if they get the next distinction, they will be happy. Are these true? Or are these imaginary constructs? Different forms of heaven? How different is it from the heaven with the virgin wives? Let us ask ourselves: what is the heaven we sell to the soldier who stands cold and starving in the glaciers protecting our country while we sit at home reading our newspapers.

The Promised Land : Devdutt Pattanaik ******************

The Promised Land : Devdutt Pattanaik

The Promised Land

Nov 15, 2010 | Leadership, World Mythology.

Published in Devlok, Sunday Midday, August 29, 2010
Ancient Egyptian civilization flourished for over three thousand years, gradually collapsing less than two thousand years ago. What is peculiar about this civilization is that in its long history, its art remained relatively static and unchanged! It was always two-dimensional, expressionless, rigid and flat. This indicates a civilization where the art was determined by the state, and not a product of individual inspiration. No individual innovation was allowed; everything was determined by the nameless faceless system. People’s lives were governed by this system. They devoted their time to farming and when the harvest was done, they were enlisted to build the king’s pyramid. Thus everyone was well-fed, busy, with no time to challenge the system.
Clearly, this was the slavery that is described in the Bible. A break was needed from familiar slavery to unfamiliar freedom. This was offered by one Moses. He presented the people with a value proposition, described as the ‘Promised Land’. This was the land of milk and honey. There was no map to the Promised Land, there was no brochure either or satellite images. Just faith. People were willing to risk everything to follow Moses across the sea and the wilderness to that dream of a better life.
A Vision Statement, genuinely constructed by a leader, is the Promised Land. Unfortunately, today it has become a meaningless business ritual. We have two choices: either hire expensive consultants if one is obligated by the parent organization and is governed by audited processes, or go to Dilbert.com, if one is more cynical. But ultimately every venture offers a Promised Land, and most leaders fail to recognize this.
Vishal buys old properties all over the world. He then renovates it and sells it for a higher price. “I don’t need a Vision Statement,” he told his uncle, “I am a small business.” His uncle did not comment but he knew that without articulating it, Vishal had a Promised Land in his mind. He transformed ugly soulless buildings into joyful settlements. This idea he shared with his engineers and architects. It provided everyone with the satisfaction of doing something meaningful. It also brought in good profits. Every person who worked for Vishal believed in his vision. They walked the extra mile through the wilderness with him. The results were spectacular and for all to see.
The point of a Vision Statement is not to carve it on a wall in the reception of the office; it is to inspire people. Vishal has nothing on paper; but his vision drives every aspect of his business. It is not propaganda. It is genuine belief.
When Vishal started his business, he needed investment. So, guided by his uncle, he spoke to several venture capitalists and angel investors. He told them his plan. He did not realize that he was doing the role of Moses. The Promised Land that he presented to the hard-nosed bankers was all an imagination. But he had faith in it and conviction that it could be done. He had studied the known – the competition, the opportunities, the threats, his own strengths, his weaknesses, what were the gaps he needed to fill. He was also clear about the unknown – he told the bankers that he was uncertain about realty prices and how the market would move. As he spoke, the bankers, were smitten by his passion and enthusiasm; they sponsored Vishal’s journey to the Promised Land. Ultimately, all new businesses are a step into the unknown. And no one has the map to the unknown.
Vishal has taken things further. He does not have just one Promised Land, or rather he looks at the Promised Land from all perspectives not just from an overall business perspective (as most Vision Statements, unfortunately, do). He presents to his customers, their view of the Promised Land. He also slices and dices his vision to make it relevant to every member of his team. He tells them how growth of the business, will bring growth to the junior-most engineer: even if it is something as rudimentary as a better bonus. Because of this attention to every person’s Promised Land, Vishal is able to fire the imagination of his entire organization. He transforms into a leader who provides liberation from the daily meaningless corporate drudgery that is best equated with slavery in Egypt.

From chaos to order : Devdutt Pattanaik

From chaos to order : Devdutt Pattanaik

From chaos to order

Nov 15, 2010 | Leadership, World Mythology.

Published in Corporate Dossier ET, July 30, 2010
Around 1500 BCE (Before Common Era, formerly known as BC or Before Christ), about the time the Rig Veda was reaching its final form in India, a tale was being told in Mesopotamia, the fertile plains watered by the Tigris and Euphrates, now modern Iraq.  It was the tale known as Enuma Elis, or the Creation Myth of Babylon. It is believed that this story had a powerful impact on Greek myths as well as the Jewish Bible or Tanakh, eventually influencing what is now commonly known as Western thought.
The story speaks of how the world, as we know it, came into being. It involved a great war in which Marduk led the ‘new gods’ to defeat the ‘old gods’ who were led by Tiamat. Tiamat is described as a monster.  She was also the great mother of all gods; in her body resided all her children.
All was well until the children made so much noise that the old gods demanded the destruction of the new gods. The first time this happened, Tiamat warned her children.  The second time this happened, Tiamat, ordered her consort to destroy the new gods. The new gods rallied around Marduk who, after a furious fight, defeated Tiamat and her consort and all the old gods who sided with them.
From the body of Tiamat, Marduk created the earth below and the sky above. Tiamat’s tears became the rivers Tigris and Euphrates.  The blood of her consort was mixed with the red earth and from this was created humankind. As the spawn of the old gods, humanity was forced to serve the new gods forever.  Failure to serve the new gods led to floods and storms.
In this narrative, the old gods are associated with complacency and chaos. The new gods are associated with action and order. This story informs human behaviour when a new management takes over from the old management, usually after a violent struggle, either a boardroom brawl or a takeover. Either it can be the new generation taking over from the old generation, or it can be a new management brought in by the new majority shareholders. Though the stated objective is to maintain harmony and respect the old ways, the reality is a ruthless change, with the new guard holding the old guard in disdain. Marduk comes with his resplendent army, Tiamat’s old body provides shelter to the new world order, and the children born of her consort’s blood are forced to submit.
All this is objectively explained using excel sheets and power point presentations. A new vision is drawn up, and a new organization structure is galvanized to achieve the new objectives and goals. And since the old ways did not deliver, the old reporting structures, old processes and old measurements are discarded in favour of new ones. However, rational these actions may be, they fuel fear and insecurity. Egos are hurt. People leave the organization and those who stay behind mourn the passing of the golden age. The new gods mock the old ways, reminding all of the terrible state of affairs, the pathetic growth rate and the lacklustre balance sheets. Those who start working with the old gods are branded as traitors. And the new gods face many dilemmas – do they reward loyalty or talent, place talented members of the old management over the not-so-talented members of their team?
Dileep is part of a consulting firm. He has overseen many mergers and acquisitions. Post an M&A, he always feels that he has entered a war zone. There are the conquerors and the conquered. There is arrogance on one side and fear on the other. What is most bewildering is how these emotions are ignored.
Dileep remembers this post-merger workshop he was asked to conduct to identify a suitable sales reporting system for the new entity. The workshop was conducted using all tools of modern management – forms had to be filled, SWOT analysis had to be done, scores had to be given, so that the final outcome would be objective, stripped of bias, hence acceptable to all. But the workshop was anything but objective. Yes, members of both organizations were forced to sit together but during coffee breaks the two tribes stayed away from each other. Dileep overheard people saying, “Be smart. Just celebrate the reporting system that the new CEO likes. And you know which one that is.” Beneath the veneer of objectivity, emotions were determining the choice of the sales reporting system. Marduk’s system won. Tiamat’s system was broken down.

The Rejection of Contenment : Devdutt Pattanaik

The Rejection of Contenment : Devdutt Pattanaik

The Rejection of Contenment

Sep 26, 2011 | Myth Theory.

Published in Speaking Tree, Sunday, August 21, 2011

Both Ganesha and Kubera are pot-bellied deities with short arms and legs. Both are Yaksha-murtis, and bring in prosperity. Kubera is the treasurer of the gods and a devotee of  Shiva, the hermit-god while Ganesha is the son of  Shiva. Despite many similarities, there is a fundamental difference between the two, which is why Kubera is a Gana while Ganesha is lord of Ganas.
Once, Kubera felt sorry for Shiva’s son, Ganesha who loved to eat. “Let me feed you,” said Kubera, “as clearly your father cannot afford to do so.” Ganesha accepted Kubera’s invitation, went to his house, and ate all that was offered. “I am still hungry,” said the elephant-headed god. Kubera had to procure more food using the money in his treasury. Ganesha ate all that was served and kept asking for more. Finally Kubera fell at his feet and begged him to stop eating. “You are draining me dry,” he cried. Ganesha then said with a smile, “Any attempt to satisfy hunger with food will never be successful. If anything, food will amplify hunger. My father, Shiva, therefore seeks to outgrow the need for food.”
This is the discourse of contentment, rejected by the modern secular world we live in.
The modern secular world today is dominated by two ideologies, both based on wealth and economics, broadly classified as Capitalism and Communism (or the latter’s more acceptable avatar, Socialism). Both seek to create a happy world, and both believe that happiness is a function of wealth.
Capitalism believes that generation of more wealth will create happiness; Communism believes that better distribution of wealth will create happiness. Capitalism celebrates individual entrepreneuship while Communism seeks governmental interventions.India has flirted with both – Communism for the first few decades after independence and now Capitalism. Neither has brought happiness toIndia. And neither seems to offer solutions to the near future. Both these theories are suspicious of the ‘discourse of contentment’.
Capitalists fear that this will destroy the market and prevent the creation of new customers. They float advertisements where people are mocked for being satisfied with their lot in life, and where mothers are advised to tackle scarcity not by celebrating sharing but by wishing for more wealth.
Communists view the ‘discourse of contentment’ with suspicion. They are convinced it is propoganda of the rich to ensure the poor stay poor and do not ask for their rights. Without discontentment, there will be no revolution.
Modern management is obessed with ‘growth’. But everyone refers to material growth alone.
Traditional thought also celebrates growth. That is why symbols of growth like mountains of food, cone shaped sweets, overflowing pots of milk are cosnidered auspicous symbols. But growth in the religious and spiritual framework is not material alone. It is also intellectual and emotional growth. When a man evolves intellectually and grows emotionally, he becomes content with his wealth, and starts to share his wealth. He includes others in his prosperity. Growth then is not at the cost of others; it is for the benefit of all. When this happens, there is no need for socialist revolutions or corporate social responsibility. Wealth flows through the pyramid of society rather spontaneously.
Intellectual and emotional growth are the two arms of spirituality. Unfortunately the latter word, spirituality, is deemed dangerous, impractical or theoretical by both Capitalists and Communists. In rejecting spirituality, these material discourses have willy nilly ignored intellectual and emotional growth. That is why 80% of the world’s wealth today serves only 20% of the world’s population. And this proportion is not going change in a hurry, new regulations, policies and laws nothwitshtanding. For currently there is intellectual or emotional stagnation both at the top and the bottom of the Capitalist and Communist pyramid.

The fever gods : Devdutt Pattanaik

The fever gods : Devdutt Pattanaik

The fever gods

Apr 27, 2012 | Indian Mythology.

Published in Speaking Tree, March 04, 2012

In Bengal, when people fell ill, women of the family prayed to the twins, Jvara-Jvari, a brother and sister who caused fevers. Not much is known about these fever-causing deities or the ritual.
But according to one story in the Puranas, when Daksha conducted a yagna, he invited all the gods except Shiva. This angered many sages who complained to Shiva. But Shiva was indifferent to Daksha’s ritual and so did not attach any significance to being kept out. When the sages insisted, a drop of sweat fell from his forehead. From this sweat was born Jvara (maybe along with Jvari, but that is not stated). Jvara went to the sacrificial hall and spread disease. Bodies became warm, muscles ached, skin started to itch, rashes appeared in unmentionable spots, pockmarks popped up – all in people who sat around the sacred fire. The priests had to stop chanting as they began coughing and sneezing incessantly. Voices turned hoarse, unsuitable for the hymns. “This is the price you pay for keeping Shiva out,” said the sages. So Daksha prayed to Shiva, begged for forgiveness, and Shiva, who is easy to annoy and easy to please, cured all with his grace becoming known as Vaidyanath, the lord of healers.
Across India, there are shrines associated with seven mothers or seven virgins, known as Sapta-matrika, usually simply seven vermilion smeared rocks next to ponds and river banks, near tamarind and neem trees. In Maharashtra they are known as Sati Asara, which is perhaps a corruption of “Sapta Apsara”. They are said to cause pregnant women to miscarry and young babies to develop rash. No one is sure who these goddesses are. Their origin is shrouded in mystery yet they are found in villages across the Indian subcontinent. Some stories link them to the wives of the Seven Sages who make up the Great Bear constellations. One day, they went before the sacred fire, or took a dip in a pond, without wearing any symbols indicating they were married. As a result the heat of the fire, or the wetness of the water, made them pregnant. They were accused of infidelity and thrown out of the house and now they wander the earth, angry and determined to destroy the lives of women who do not acknowledge them as chaste goddesses. They tried to kill Skanda, son of Shiva, but he addressed them as mothers, even suckled on their breasts, and gave them the right to bring the curse of fever upon anyone who did not acknowledge them. They have also been identified with the Krittika or Pleiades constellation.
More popularly, the seven mothers who cause fever are worshipped as one goddess, known variously as Jari-Mari Mata, Jari meaning Jvari or fever, and Mari referring to Maru or dry barren desert heat. Very particularly when she causes pox, she is called Sitala, the cool one, cooled by curds and gifts of bridal attire and cooling ingredients such as neem, chillies, tamarind and lemon. In Sitala Mahatmya, she is described as riding a donkey and carrying a broom and a winnow basket containing pulses (which look like pox pustules) and a pot of healing water. Her companions are Jvara as well as Ghentukarna, who bring itches and skin diseases, and Raktavati who causes blood oozing fevers. In the south, the role of the goddess who brings fever if ignored and takes away fever when acknowledged is taken up by the much feared and revered Mariamman. These temples are popular even today across India.
Not many people today see disease as the wrath of a god or goddess, who demands appeasement, or as the work of a demon who has to be destroyed. But still these stories persist. It reveals our faith in how disease has traditionally been seen: not the presence of something unnatural, but as the imbalance of nature’s forces. In every story mentioned in this article, disease has its roots in pain and suffering: Daksha’s rejection of Shiva, sages doubting and rejecting their wives, women ill-treated for being unmarried or barren. Disease of the flesh was then seen as an outcome of social disease, our inability to be kinder, more welcoming and more compassionate of the world around us. These deities frightened us because we refused to acknowledge some fundamental truths about life and living.

The Great Forest Exile : Devdutt Pattanaik

The Great Forest Exile : Devdutt Pattanaik

The Great Forest Exile

Aug 09, 2012 | Articles, Mahabharata, Ramayana.

Published in Devlok, Sunday Midday, July 15, 2012

In the Ramayan, Ram is asked to string a bow – a feat that will win him the hand of Sita in marriage. Ram, however, bends the bow with such force that it breaks. Since no one until then had even been able to pick up this bow, Sita’s father is so impressed with Ram that he is more than happy to accept him as his son-in-law.
One cannot help but wonder:  Why did Ram, known for his obedience, break a bow that was supposed to be strung? The bow is an ancient symbol of kingship. It represents poise and balance, useful only if the string is neither too loose or too tight. That Ram, the ideal king, breaking a bow in his youth is surely an act of some significance. No ordinary bow this: but the bow of Shiva, the great ascetic.
With a wife by his side, Ram’s father feels he is now old enough to be king and so declares his decision to retire. Unfortunately the planned coronation does not take place. Palace intrigues force Ram to go into forest exile instead. Is there a correlation between the breaking of the bow and the denial of his kingship? The epic does not say so explicitly. Nor has any scholar commented on it. But the question is an interesting one. After all everything in Hindu narratives is symbolic and there is surely here a meaning that is waiting to be decoded.
Ram’s breaking of Shiva’s bow probably suggests an act of passion and attachment, for Shiva is the god of renunciation and detachment. Is that why he is considered unfit to be king? Is that why he must go into the forest for 14 years, and return only when he has cultivated adequate detachment? Observe the almost inhuman lack of passion displayed by Ram, fourteen years later, when he finally kills Ravan and rescue his wife Sita. He tells her that he killed Ravan not to rescue her but to uphold dharma and clear his family’s honor. It is almost as if showing feelings for one’s spouse is unacceptable for one who seeks to be king. He had shown his passion once, when he broke the bow. He shall not do so again.
The ancient seers demanded such detachment from kings. Kingship had to be more important than family. That is why Ram is put on the highest pedestal. One may not quite agree with this philosophy today, but it is clear that the epic considers the years in the wilderness not as a tragedy but as a period to mature until one is ready to truly wear the crown.
This theme of ‘growing up’ in the wilderness is repeated in the Mahabharata. Krishna helps the Pandavas establish the kingdom of Indraprastha. But the five brothers foolishly gamble away their kingdom in Krishna’s absence, a crime for which they have to suffer thirteen years of exile. When Yudhishtira moans his fate, the sages tell him the story of Ram who suffered fourteen years of exile, one year more than them, and that too for no fault of his. They tell the Pandavas to stop whining and use the period in the forest to learn. And they learn: Arjuna learns humility when he is defeated by a common hunter (Shiva in disguise) in battle, Bhima learns humility when he is unable to lift the tail of an old monkey (Hanuman in disguise) and all the brothers learn humility when they are forced to live as servants in the final year of exile. Only then does Krishna lead them to a triumphant battle against their enemies.

River of rebirth : Devdutt Pattanaik

River of rebirth : Devdutt Pattanaik

River of rebirth

May 19, 2012 | Indian Mythology.

Published in Devlok, Sunday Midday, April 15, 2012

A king called Sagar was once performing a yagna. If the ritual was a success, he would become Indra, king of paradise, and have access to all the pleasures of the world, including immortality. But there was already an Indra in the sky, and he could not bear the idea of being replaced. That Indra stole Sagar’s horse and hid it in the hermitage of a sage called Kapil. The sons of Sagar looked everywhere for the horse. They dug so deep that they created a crater that eventually became the receptacle of the sea. Finally they found the horse in Kapil’s hermitage and they accused Kapil of theft. Kapil’s eyes were shut at this time, as he was lost in deep contemplation. He had no idea of Indra’s mischief. Irritated by the disturbance, he opened his eyes. So fiery was his first glance that the sons of Sagar who stood before him shouting accusations burst into flames and were reduced to a heap of ash. Indra smiled and Kapil shut his eyes once again.
A heartbroken Sagar wondered, “My sons have been killed in their youth. I will die of old age. None of us will be Indra. The yagna had been abandoned midway. None of us will sip Amrita, the nectar of immortality. None of us will experience unending joy. Is every living creature doomed to die having lived such incomplete lives?” Sagar searched for an answer. So did his son Anshuman, and Anshuman’s son Dilip and finally Dilip’s son Bhagirath. Bhagirath met Garuda, the eagle, the only creature who had defeated Indra in battle. He said, “If the ashes of your ancestors are washed by the Ganga they will be reborn and have a second chance of life.”
Unfortunately, Ganga flowed in the sky. Bhagirath prayed to Brahma, father of all living creatures, and he promised to persuade Ganga to descend on earth. Today, she flows on earth. She is visualized as a goddess riding a river-dolphin. Everyone bathes in the Ganga hoping to wipe their karmic slate clean. Into the Ganga are thrown the ashes of the dead.
The idea of rebirth and the Ganga cannot be separated. The river comes from the land of Indra, who has access to Amrita, the nectar of immortality. Indra, the hero of Vedic hymns, lives the life everyone on earth wants to live. He is strong and powerful and attractive and invincible. All day he spends enjoying the good things in life. He does not fear aging or death. Kings of the earth, such as Sagar, envy him. They all want to live Indra’s perfect life. They spend their lifetimes working towards it. Eventually everyone fails – those who die  young like Sagar’s sons and even those who die old like Sagar himself. And everyone wonders, if there will ever be another chance to become Indra.