Thursday 1 November 2012

Shri Aurobindo’s view on India Culture


Name: Joshi Toral

Paper: 4 Indian Writing in English

Topic: Shri Aurobindo’s view on India Culture

SEM: 3,

M.A. part 2.
Year: 2012


Submitted to,
Dr.Dilip Barad,
M.K Bhavnagar University,
Bhavnagar





·       Sri Aurobindo’s View of Indian Culture

·       Introduction:

     India is famous for the myth, heritage and culture. Hear also Aurobindo’s discuss about over religion, spirituality and culture.
      The old Hellenic or Greece Roman civilization perished, among other reasons, because it only imperfectly generalized culture in its own society and was surrounded by huge masses of humanity who were still possessed by the barbarian habit of mind. Civilization can never be safe so long, confining the cultured mentality to a small minority, it nourishes in its bosom a tremendous mass of ignorance, a multitude, a proletariat.

“Either knowledge must enlarge from above or be always in danger of submergence by the ignorant night from below”
Europe boasts of her science and its marvels. But to the braggart intellect of Europe the Indian is bound to reply,
“I am not interested in what you know; I am interested in what you are. With all your discoveries and inventions, what have you become? Your enlightenment is great—but what are these strange creatures that move about in the electric light you have installed and imagine that they are human?”
 Is it a great gain for the human intellect to have grown more acute and discerning, if the human soul dwindles? Man in Europe is descending steadily from the human level and approximating to the ant and the hornet. The process is not complete but it is progressing apace, and if nothing stops the debacle, we may hope to see its culmination in this twentieth century. After all our superstitions were better than this enlightenment, our social abuses less murderous to the hopes of the race than this social perfection.
Ninety years later, what was then behind the veil is now out in the open. We have almost reached the “culmination” of the West’s failure. It has failed in spite of all its achievements because it has ignored what we “are,” scoffed at what we are expected to “become.” And that is precisely, for Sri Aurobindo, the heart of Indian civilization, its constant concern through ages, in art or science or yoga, in every activity of life.
“The laboratory of the soul has been India,”
 Indian culture is simply the culture of man’s inner richness. It is a realization that the entire universe is divine, tree, bird, man and star—and our Mother Earth, whom the West has for two thousand years regarded as a chunk of inanimate matter created to serve our ever-expanding greed.
This great and ancient nation was once the fountain of human light, the apex of human civilization, the exemplar of courage and humanity, the perfection of good Government and settled society, the mother of all religions, the teacher of all wisdom and philosophy. It has suffered much at the hands of inferior civilizations and more savage peoples; it has gone down into the shadow of night and tasted often of the bitterness of death. Its pride has been trampled into the dust and its glory has departed.
Hunger and misery and despair have become the masters of this fair soil, these noble hills, these ancient rivers, these cities whose life story goes back into prehistoric night. All our calamities have been but a discipline of suffering, because for the great mission before us prosperity was not sufficient, adversity had also its training; to taste the glory of power and beneficence and joy was not sufficient, the knowledge of weakness and torture and humiliation was also needed.
I have always laid a dominant stress and I now lay an entire stress on the spiritual life, but my idea of spirituality has nothing to do with ascetic withdrawal or contempt or disgust of secular things. There is to me nothing secular, all human activity is for me a thing to be included in a complete spiritual life.
People care nothing about the spiritual basis of life which is India's real mission and the only possible source of her greatness, or give to it only a slight, secondary or incidental value, a something that has to be stuck on as a sentiment or a bit of colouring matter. Our whole principle is different.
We are sometimes asked what on earth we mean by spirituality in art and poetry or in political and social life—a confession of ignorance strange enough in any Indian mouth at this stage of our national history. We have here really an echo of the European idea that religion and spirituality on the one side and intellectual activity and practical life on the other are two entirely different things and have each to be pursued on its own entirely separate lines and in obedience to its own entirely separate principles. True spirituality rejects no new light, no added means or materials of our human self-development. It means simply to keep our center, our essential way of being, and our inborn nature and assimilate to it all we receive, and evolve out of it all we do and create.
To achieve India’s “renaissance,” Sri Aurobindo boldly and repeatedly called on his countrymen to develop the Kshatriya spirit, almost lost after centuries of subjection:
The Kshatriya of old must again take his rightful position in our social polity to discharge the first and foremost duty of defending its interests. The brain is impotent without the right arm of strength.
 It is the education which starting with the past and making full use of the present builds up a great nation. Whoever wishes to cut off the nation from its past is no friend of our national growth. Whoever fails to take advantage of the present is losing us the battle of life. We must therefore save for India that entire she has stored up of knowledge, character and noble thought in her immemorial past. We must acquire for her the best knowledge that Europe can give her and assimilate it to her own peculiar type of national temperament. We must introduce the best methods of teaching humanity has developed, whether modern or ancient. And all these we must harmonies into a system which will be impregnated with the spirit of self-reliance so as to build up men and not machines.
 “Mercenary and soulless education,”
 “I believe that the main cause of India's weakness,”
“Is not subjection, nor poverty, nor a lack of spirituality or Dharma, but a diminution of thought-power, the spread of ignorance in the motherland of Knowledge? Everywhere I see an inability or unwillingness to think.”
This is clearly not the line Indian education has taken. If we see today that nothing even of the Mahabharata or the Ramayana is taught to an Indian child, we can measure the abyss to be bridged. That the greatest epics of mankind should be thrown away on the absurd and erroneous pretext that they are “religious” is beyond the comprehension of an impartial observer. A German or French or English child will be taught something of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, because they are regarded as the root of European culture, and somehow present in the European consciousness. He will not be asked to worship Zeus or Athena, but will be shown how the Ancients saw and experienced the world and the human being. But Indian epics, a hundred times richer and vaster in human experience, a thousand times more present in the Indian consciousness, will not be taught to an Indian child. Not to speak of other important texts such as the beautiful Tamil epics, Shilappadikaram and Manimekhalai. Even the Panchatantra and countless other highly educational collections of Indian stories—even folk stories—are ruled out.
It would be a tragic irony of fate if India were to throw away her spiritual heritage at the very her spiritual heritage at the very moment when in the rest of the world there is more and more a turning towards her for spiritual help and a saving light. This must not will surely not happen; but it can’t be said that the danger is not there are indeed other numerous and difficult problems that country or will very soon face it.

Various Themes in Robinson Crusoe


Name: Joshi Toral B.

Paper: 2 Neo-Classical Literature


Topic: Various Themes in Robinson Crusoe

SEM: 3, M.A. part 2.

Year: 2012


Submitted to,
Dr.Dilip Barad,
M.K Bhavnagar University,
Bhavnagar


·     Religion and self-discovery:-
The entire tale can be read as illustrating Crusoe’s negotiation with religion and faith. It is on the island that Crusoe rediscovers faith. He opens the Bible at random and this is what he first reads: ‘call on me in the Day of trouble, and I will deliver and thou salt glorify me’.    Crusoe believes: ‘the words were very apt to my case’. He believes how God has constantly ‘delivered him’ and then realizes: ‘But I had not glorified him’.
              The realism of the adventure merges with the spiritual and theological narrative of the Bible when Crusoe locates everything that happens to him within the framework of religion and belief. He finds exact matches between the incidents of his life and the stories in the scripture, thus rediscovering his faith.
But the novel also records Crusoe’s crisis of faith. There are moments when he loses his faith. For instance, when he sees the footprint for the first time, he is struck by fear. This is what he records as his feeling:
“Fear banished all my religious hope; all that former confidence in God, which was founded upon such wonderful experience as I had of his goodness, now vanished.”
Defoe suggests a crisis of faith here, when Crusoe feels the ‘constant snare of the fear of man’ as opposes to the confidence of ‘resting upon Providence’.

The Ambivalence of Mastery
                                          Crusoe’s success in mastering his situation, overcoming his obstacles, and controlling his environment shows the condition of mastery in a positive light, at least at the beginning of the novel. Crusoe lands in an inhospitable environment and makes it his home. His taming and domestication of wild goats and parrots with Crusoe as their master illustrates his new found control. Moreover, Crusoe’s mastery over nature makes him a master of his fate and of himself. Early in the novel, he frequently blames himself for disobeying his father’s advice or blames the destiny that drove him to sea. But in the later part of the novel, Crusoe stops viewing himself as a passive victim and strikes a new note of self-determination. In building a home for himself on the island, he finds that he is master of his life—he suffers a hard fate and still finds prosperity.
                       But this theme of mastery becomes more complex and less positive after Friday’s arrival, when the idea of mastery comes to apply more to unfair relationships between humans. In Chapter XXIII, Crusoe teaches Friday the word “[m]aster” even before teaching him “yes” and “no,” and indeed he lets him “know that was to be [Crusoe’s] name.” Crusoe never entertains the idea of considering Friday a friend or equal—for some reason, superiority comes instinctively to him. We further question Crusoe’s right to be called “[m]aster” when he later refers to himself as “king” over the natives and Europeans, who are his “subjects.” In short, while Crusoe seems praiseworthy in mastering his fate, the praiseworthiness of his mastery over his fellow humans is more doubtful. Defoe explores the link between the two in his depiction of the colonial mind.

The Necessity of Repentance
Crusoe’s experiences constitute not simply an adventure story in which thrilling things happen, but also a moral tale illustrating the right and wrong ways to live one’s life. This moral and religious dimension of the tale is indicated in the Preface, which states that Crusoe’s story is being published to instruct others in God’s wisdom, and one vital part of this wisdom is the importance of repenting one’s sins. While it is important to be grateful for God’s miracles, as Crusoe is when his grain sprouts, it is not enough simply to express gratitude or even to pray to God, as Crusoe does several times with few results. Crusoe needs repentance most, as he learns from the fiery angelic figure that comes to him during a feverish hallucination and says, “Seeing all these things have not brought thee to repentance, now thou salt die.” Crusoe believes that his major sin is his rebellious behavior toward his father, which he refers to as his “original sin,” akin to Adam and Eve’s first disobedience of God. This biblical reference also suggests that Crusoe’s exile from civilization represents Adam and Eve’s expulsion from Eden.
For Crusoe, repentance consists of acknowledging his wretchedness and his absolute dependence on the Lord. This admission marks a turning point in Crusoe’s spiritual consciousness, and is almost a born-again experience for him. After repentance, he complains much less about his sad fate and views the island more positively. Later, when Crusoe is rescued and his fortune restored, he compares himself to Job, who also regained divine favor. Ironically, this view of the necessity of repentance ends up justifying sin: Crusoe may never have learned to repent if he had never sinfully disobeyed his father in the first place. Thus, as powerful as the theme of repentance is in the novel, it is nevertheless complex and ambiguous.

The Importance of Self-Awareness
Crusoe’s arrival on the island does not make him revert to a brute existence controlled by animal instincts, and, unlike animals, he remains conscious of him at all times. Indeed, his island existence actually deepens his self-awareness as he withdraws from the external social world and turns inward. The idea that the individual must keep a careful reckoning of the state of his own soul is a key point in the Presbyterian doctrine that Defoe took seriously all his life. We see that in his normal day-to-day activities, Crusoe keeps accounts of himself enthusiastically and in various ways. For example, it is significant that Crusoe’s makeshift calendar does not simply mark the passing of days, but instead more egocentrically marks the days he has spent on the island: it is about him, a sort of self-conscious or autobiographical calendar with him at its center. Similarly, Crusoe obsessively keeps a journal to record his daily activities, even when they amount to nothing more than finding a few pieces of wood on the beach or waiting inside while it rains. Crusoe feels the importance of staying aware of his situation at all times. We can also sense Crusoe’s impulse toward self-awareness in the fact that he teaches his parrot to say the words, “Poor Robin Crusoe. . . . Where have you been?” This sort of self-examining thought is natural for anyone alone on a desert island, but it is given a strange intensity when we recall that Crusoe has spent months teaching the bird to say it back to him. Crusoe teaches nature itself to voice his own self-awareness