Leaving our Shivapadam house at the end of Mahashivarathri, I found myself contemplating the curious phenomenon of tribal detachment. Not a complete severance—more of a self-imposed exile, a deliberate step away from the collective heartbeat. Yet the Tribe, utterly indifferent to my absence, continues its relentless forward march. It recruits fresh blood, elevates new heroes to its pantheon, and advances its grand mission with mechanical precision. The proper response from someone who still claims tribal identity (albeit from a comfortable distance) would be pride, connection, enthusiastic cheerleading from the sidelines. But this isn't about proper responses or should-be feelings. This is about the messy reality beneath the socially acceptable veneer. And articulating what I actually feel requires a certain brutal honesty I'm not entirely comfortable with. Yes, I genuinely desire the Tribe's success. Yes, I experience what appears to be authentic happiness when my fellow...
For the second time, in the last year or so, I am poring over another book from Richard Dawkins - this one is called The Greatest Show on Earth. This is my second book of Richard Dawkins. It’s far more breezy and compared to the earlier book that I read: "The Ancestor’s Tale". Like the previous book, it makes me wonder at the emergent sense of what can only be called Intelligence. This intelligence - seemingly unconscious and purposeless but which nevertheless powers the process through which animals or plants - Life - evolves to its rich eventual tapestry. Each of the chapters are essentially arguments against the so-called Intelligent Design or Creationism. These chapters are enlivened by amazing stories of various life forms. These stories are what create a sense of wonder. These stories evoke a sense of disbelief, make me marvel at the sheer unlikeliness of the specific way life evolved the way it did. It also evokes a sense of kinship with all the creatures which endure...