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Who is Chatur Chanakya and Why Should Children Meet Him? Radhakrishnan Pillai Answers

Radhakrishnan Pillai now writes for your young ones! Little Chanakya goes to school, standing up to bullies and maneuvering his way through tricky situations we all may have found ourselves in sometimes. But what inspired this journey? Let’s find out!   

From Corporate Chanakya to Chatur Chanakya, what inspired this transition in writing for a different audience?

It was a new dimension for me. Even though the common connect between Corporate Chanakya and Chatur Chanakya is the same – Chanakya, it is very differently presented. Corporate Chanakya was meant as a management book especially for those who are in management and leadership positions. The audience was educated and already decision makers. While Chatur Chanakya was a different aspect. Reaching out to children who are 10 years old. The challenge was to make the profound knowledge of Chanakya from the Arthashastra, to be presented in a simple format.  When the puffin team approached me with this concept to write for kids, it was a challenge. But I got inspired to try a new way of writing. And thanks – the book has really come out well. Much better than what was expected.

Is the character of young Chatur inspired by anyone from your life?

Yes and No. Chatur Chanakya is an imaginary character. Just like Superman, Batman and Chota Bheem. These characters are imaginary but have a message to give to kids. Through Chatur Chanakya we are going to bring out the best of wisdom of Chanakya (who lived nearly 2400 years ago) and his Kautilya’s Arthashastra. He was a leadership guru and a king maker. Chatur Chanakya will teach children how to think and become a leader. The other children in the book are inspired by real children. Arjun is the name of my son, who is the friend of Chatur Chanakya. Lakshmi is inspired by my daughter (her real name is Aanvikshiki). While Datta, Aditya and Milee are their friends. All of them become part of the book.

What is so special about Chatur and why should children befriend him?

Though a comic character. He is very real. Because he is a school going kid like any child of our generation. He has all the challenges that is faced by kids today. Be it bullying in schools, exam fever, being compared to other kids (even parents do that). So any one can associate with Chatur Chanakya. He is cute and nice. But he is also a fiend, philosopher and guide to his other classmates and friends. He is your friendly neighbour and ‘best friend’. He has got a choti on his head and a trick up his sleeve. You will love him. Not only children, but parents, grandparents and even teachers in schools will love Chatur Chanakya. He is what everyone wants in an ideal child – Intelligent and dynamic.

Tell us that one thing in Chatur Chanakya and the Himalayan Problem that one should look out for.

How to think out of the box. Chatur Chanakya faces a huge problem. Himalaya is a class mate of his, who is huge and bullies everyone. While Chatur Chanakya is not physically as strong Himalaya, he uses his intelligence to defeat Himalaya. So through this book we are giving a message to children, teachers and parents that – If you are mentally strong you can defeat any Himalayan (huge) problem.

Revisit school and relive all the memories with your little one in Radhakrishnan Pillai’s Chatur Chanakya and the Himalayan Problem!

Forever is True: Prologue

It has been six months since Prisha was pushed to death by the person she loved the most, Saveer. Novoneel Chakraborty is back with a riveting finale to his bestseller ‘Forever is a lie’.
Here’s an excerpt from the prologue of the book.
Fortis Hospital, Bengaluru
Private cabin, 10.35 p.m.
‘I’m sorry, Prisha, but I had no other option,’ the person said, standing close to the hospital bed on
which Prisha was lying with her eyes closed. Beneath a blanket that covered her till her bosom, she was wearing a sky-blue patient’s uniform. Her forehead was freshly bandaged. Her right hand, with a drip, was placed on her belly while the left one was by her side, a pulse-monitoring clip attached to the index finger. There was a saline water stand beside the bed. Her left leg was plastered and her face bruised. It was quiet except for the occasional beeping of the monitor that was keeping a track of her heartbeats. The room was bathed in an eerie green-coloured light.
‘Just like I had no other option with Ishanvi. She was a good girl. So were you. But you both fell for the wrong person, bad person. And sometimes, even when you aren’t at fault, life still holds you guilty and makes you pay for it. But how do you atone for something you haven’t done?’ Silence. The person grasped Prisha’s left hand. It was cold.
‘Not that I expected you to be alive but now I can at least talk to you, unlike Ishanvi.’
After a deep sigh, the person added, ‘I had tried warning you like I had tried warning Ishanvi but neither of you paid heed. Why? You were in love. Love! I hate that emotion because it is the most customizable emotion a human can feel. Its definition changes the way one thinks. Its syntax changes the way one feels. It is not like sadness or happiness. It is not absolute. Though we think it is. I hate it. In fact, hate is a soft word. I abhor love, loathe it. If you had been in your senses, I’m sure you would have asked what makes me so anti love. Well, it is a long story but I carry the moral in my heart every day. And will do so till I turn into ashes.’
There was silence. The person caressed Prisha’s forehead.
‘Unfortunately, nobody will ever know my story. But that doesn’t bother me. The only thing that bothers me is that the person who mattered the most to me will also never get to hear my story. You tell me, Prisha, is it fair to live someone else’s story all your life? But . . .’ The person leaned close to her left ear and whispered, ‘If you can listen, then listen well. Chances are you will die soon on this bed. But in case you survive, don’t push me into killing you again. Next time, there won’t be any passerby to bring you to any hospital on time. One last request: don’t test me for I’ve been killing people for a long time now. You are my only failure. And failing is something which doesn’t go down well with me.’ After staring at Prisha for a while, the person said, ‘May your soul rest in peace, Prisha. Next life, choose someone better. Choose someone who’s worth it.’
The person stopped caressing her forehead and tiptoed out of the room. Prisha had opened her eyes by then. She had been in her senses throughout. Or was she? She didn’t see the person’s face but she did feel the person’s touch. Contrary to the person’s words, the touch wasn’t threatening. The last statement had made her hair stand on its end.
This was the first time Saveer had visited her in the hospital since she had regained consciousness. Why would he want to kill her? she wondered. Or for that matter Ishanvi?
These, however, were the least of her concerns at that moment. There was something she noticed that was extremely disturbing. Prisha saw the person leaving the room. But in a woman’s attire.
What’s wrong with Saveer? she wondered. Then she thought to herself: was she hallucinating because of the heavy sedatives she had been taking for some time now? Prisha couldn’t tell. She dozed off.

The Naked Blogger of Cairo, An Excerpt

Marwan M. Kraidy in ‘The Naked Blogger of Cairo’ uncovers the creative insurgency at the heart of the Arab uprisings that took place in the Arab world from 2010 to 2012. Fueled by a desire of sovereignty, protestors flooded the streets and the media, voicing dissent through slogans, graffiti, puppetry, videos and satire that called for the overthrow of dictators and the regimes that sustained them.
Here’s an excerpt from the book.
The Naked Blogger of Cairo taps the human body as an organizing principle to understand creative insurgency. Th e body was a common thread in the massive trove of images and jo, essays and songs, videos and conversations I gathered while living in the Arab world between June 2011 and August 2012, during shorter research trips to Amsterdam, Beirut, Berlin, Cairo, Copenhagen, and Istanbul, and in protracted expeditions on the Internet. Bodies, burning with anger and defiance, throbbing with pain and hope, brazenly violating social taboos and political red lines, haunted my primary materials. A stencil graffiti to I photographed in November 2011 in Zamalek, an affluent Cairo neighborhood, features a television set with a headshot of a Pinocchio with a nose so overgrown it bursts through the screen. Here was a brief, compelling message that television is a liar, based on the body’s ability to betray falsity. It echoed fists, hands, and fingers in graffiti of the Syrian revolution I tracked in Beirut. Watching satirical videos, I wondered whom they skewered most: Was it Ben Ali, trapped on an airplane and unable to land in the jocular Journal du Zaba? Or Assad, downsized to a pathetic finger puppet in Top Goon— Diaries of a Little Dictator? Or maybe Mubarak, diminished by the splendid Laughing Cow trope to dumb, regurgitating cattle? Spectacular body acts that underlay pivotal events of the Arab uprisings take center stage in this book: Mohamed Bouazizi, the Burning Man of Tunisia; Aliaa al- Mahdy, the Naked Blogger of Cairo; Assala, the Rebellious Singer of Damascus. Regimes responded with body mutilation: hand breaking, eye sniping, virginity testing, as street art commemorated heroic bodies of martyrs pitted against repressive bodies of despots.
Why is the body fundamental to the Arab uprisings?
History tells us that corporeal metaphor is central to political power: from before Louis XIV to after Bashar al- Assad, the sovereign’s figure is the body of the realm. Writing in Baghdad and Damascus during the tenth century, the Islamic Golden Age philosopher and translator Abu Nasr alFarabi cast the ideal polity as a healthy body, and he described in The Perfect State different parts of the state as limbs, ruled by a commanding organ, the heart, that unifies their efforts toward achieving the contentment of the community. In The King’s Two Bodies: A Study in Mediaeval Political Theology, the German- American historian Ernst Kantorowicz traced a concept of “body politic” that envisions a kingdom as a human body, the king as its head and his subjects as organs and limbs. Developing fully in Elizabethan England, this notion recurred for centuries in European political thought and popular culture, from Rousseau’s essays to Shakespeare’s plays, and became influential in France in the sixteenth century. During the French Revolution, corporeal symbolism focused on separating the king’s biological body natural from his symbolic body politic.
In medieval Europe, God was considered the greatest good, and from him the body politic flowed as a unified organism. In contrast, in the months beginning with Mohamed Bouazizi’s self-immolation on December 17, 2010, the three Arab countries that we are most concerned with— Egypt, Syria, and Tunisia— were thoroughly secular autocracies. In all three, political leaders subjected clerics to their dominion and manipulated religion for political ends, but none of them derived his power from the divine, ruled in the name of God, or based foreign policy on religious grounds. Whereas in thirteenth- century Eu rope the body politic belonged to the sacred, in early twenty-first-century Egypt, Syria, and Tunisia the body politic was resolutely worldly. Body imagery is important to modern, secular absolutism, with its image of “the omniscient, omnipotent, benevolent” leader who “defies the laws of nature by his super- male energy.” As you read The Naked Blogger of Cairo, you will encounter the same language in encomia to Assad, Ben Ali, Mubarak, and Sisi. Creative insurgencies against these rulers subvert the imagery propagated by cults centered on the leader’s figure. The body is as foundational to the fall of dictators as it is essential to their rise. Over time, the notion of the body politic evolved to balance hierarchy with interdependence, leading to political pacts that preserved stability but, if broken, invited rebellion. By confirming “the irreplaceable and irreducible moral dignity and spiritual worth of individual man” and insisting that the king was an integral part of the body politic, not standing above it, the medieval notion succumbed to ideological manipulation by politicians leading the rise of new secular states. Emerging lay conceptions of the body politic pilfered at will from Christian theology, Roman law, and canon law, diluting monarchical power. By the late 1300s, bodily metaphor was moving away from the absolute concentration of power in the body of the king, as a conception of a “composite” body of authority including courts, councils, or parliaments gained ground. In the notion of distributive justice that arose to balance these different constituents, one can hear echoes, however faint, of bread- for- stability social contracts that since the 1950s have propped up Arab dictatorships. Because these bargains were fickle, bread riots occurred frequently. Since the 1980s, a combination of economic liberalization, political predation, and rising food staple prices has stretched the bargain to a breaking point.

5 Reads on Family to Gift Your Child Returning Home for Christmas!

If your young one is on their way back home for Christmas, here are a few super reads for them that are sure to feel like the long-pending hug from their dearest ones.

My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell

A work of autobiography, My Family and Other Animals is a story of five years of the author’s crazy and colourful childhood spent with his family on a Greek island, spread over three villas and a lot of heart-warming memories.

A Vicarage Family by Noel Streatfeild

The Vicarage family was living through the First World War, some of the most trying times known to mankind. The three girls in the house grow up to find themselves fitting into different roles in the family, except the youngest. A Vicarage Family is a moving, fictionalized work of autobiography where the little protagonist ultimately finds her true self.

The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame

One of the most widely read and much-loved classics of all times, Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows is a story of finding family among friends. Wouldn’t you want your little one to spend a blissful Christmas with the best people by the riverside?

The Family from One End Street by Eve Garnett

This is your story, this is my story. This is the story of finding joy in the every day life of a family, like The Family from One End Street. An award-winning novel by Eve Garnett, the novel brings to life the beautiful little happinesses one finds in their every day lives, much like the Ruggles who live in the small town of Otwell.

Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Getaway by Jeff Kinney

Image result for the getaway wimpy

What better way to end the Christmas extravaganza than with Wimpy Kid? Jeff Kinney’s latest in the series, Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Getaway, is a riot of misadventures as the Heffleys escape the stress of ‘Christmas holidays’ by going to a resort. Little did they know that their relaxed getaway would soon turn into an unforgettable holiday nightmare!

Could homecoming on Christmas get any better than this?

5 Books that Will Help You Answer those Christmas Questions From Your Kids!

Who is Father Christmas? Is he the same person as Santa Claus? What was Christmas like many, many years ago? Why do only reindeers get to pull the sleigh?
When it’s Christmas around the corner, make sure your little one finds Christmas under the tree, and within the pages too!
Here is a list of 5 wonderful reads for your young one that will not only set the Christmas in their hearts, but help you find them the answers to those Christmas questions too!

The Christmasaurus by Tom Fletcher


A Christmasaurus? What is that? Sounds like a dinosaurus for Christmas…Maybe it is just that and much, much more! Tom Fletcher’s magical tale of elves singing, reindeers flying and tonnes of Christmas magic is just the right kind of friend for your little one this Christmas!

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

As the famous saying goes – If Christmas can’t be found in your heart, Christmas can’t be found under a tree. The powerful, moving story of Ebenezer Scrooge whose life changes forever on a Christmas Eve, has remained timeless through the ages. What better time to share it with your little one than Christmas itself?

The Puffin Book of Christmas Stories

It’s definitely THE essential read for your child on Christmas! A marvellous collection of Christmas tales from across eras, The Puffin Book of Christmas Stories tells traditional and real stories of Christmas, and spreads the Christmas cheer like no other!

Christmas with the Savages by Mary Clive

What was Christmas really like a hundred years ago? Did they celebrate it the way we do? Mary Clive’s amusing and delightful book answers those questions as her little eight-year-old protagonist, Evelyn, “survives” a Christmas of the kind we could never have imagined!

Father Christmas by Raymond Briggs

Why is Father Christmas also called Santa Claus? What does he do the rest of the year? Raymond Briggs’ award-winning book Father Christmas tells us the magical story we’ve always wanted to know!

Oh what a wonderful list of books to read, isn’t it? We’re sure your little one would not want to miss out on this magical treat!

“An entire year without school! What more could an eight-year-old boy ask for?”: ‘Looking for the Rainbow’ — An Excerpt

Ruskin Bond ran away from his prison-like boarding school in the hills to go and live with his father in Delhi. In ‘Looking for the Rainbows’, Ruskin Bond regales in his past and revisits the beautiful days he spent with his father going to the cinema, singing songs, reading books and taking long walks.
Here’s a short glimpse from ‘Looking for the Rainbow’, holding Ruskin’s hand and going back to where it all started.
An entire year without school! What more could an eight-year-old boy ask for? Not what his parents would ask for, certainly; but after serving a two-year sentence in a fun-less convent school in the hills, I was more than happy to take a long, enforced break from gloomy classrooms, smelly dormitories, an overcrowded playing field and a diet of cabbage soup and boiled meat.
That was the sort of school I’d escaped from— or rather, been plucked out of by my father in the middle of the summer term.
It was 1942, the middle of World War II, and my parents too had been at war with each other. They had, in fact, separated, and my mother was about to marry again. My father was serving in the Royal Air Force, and was living on his own in an Air Force hutment in New Delhi, working in the Codes and Cyphers section at Air Headquarters. I was particularly close to my father, and I insisted on going to live with him rather than to a new and unknown home.
My mother took me out of the hill school near her home in Dehradun and put me on the train to Delhi.
My father was on the station platform in Delhi, looking very smart in his RAF uniform. He hugged me, took me by the hand and led me to the station restaurant, where we had a healthy breakfast. Even a railway breakfast was better than the fare we had at school!
We were joined by my uncle Fred, who was then the station superintendent at the Old Delhi station. He had a bungalow nearby. But my father’s quarters, or hutments as they were called, were at the other end of Delhi, on Humayun Road, where the new capital of India had been created.
We must remember that up until then, Calcutta had been the capital of British-ruled India, and Simla, the summer capital. Now the capital was New Delhi, still very new and still coming up, and Simla, of course, was much nearer.
The hutment was a bit of a surprise. It consisted of two brick-walled rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. And it was in the middle of nowhere.
Humayun Road, in those far-off days, was simply a lane running through a scrub forest. It had been cleared in places so that these wartime hutments could come up. But there were more jackals than people in the area. And snakes too.
As Ruskin prepared to spend some of the most wonderful days of his life with his father in ‘Looking for the Rainbow’, let’s gear up for the next part in the enchanting series where Ruskin’s life is about to take a drastic turn! Pre-order your copy of ‘Till the Clouds Roll by’ today!

When Young Chintamani Woke Up in a Place He Had Only Read About: ‘Lost in Time: Ghatotkacha and the Game of Illusions’ — An Excerpt

Chintamani Dev Gupta is on a trip to a bird camp near Lake Sat Tal! Away from the drudgery of urban life in Gurgaon, Chintamani finds himself near the cool, blue water of the lake and dives in for a swim. But when he emerges out of it, things look different. Where is he?
Find out with Namita Gokhale’s beautiful new novel for your little one, ‘Lost in Time: Ghatotkacha and the Game of Illusions’.
Here’s an excerpt from the book telling you where it all started.
A figure was approaching. He, she, it, was holding a burning branch of wood and breathing deeply. I had slouched down, suddenly tired and drowsy, in a bed of dry leaves. An enormous face came into view a long way above me. I wondered if I was dreaming, but the warmth from the flaming torch seeped into my bones, as did the long, careful breaths of this giant. I sat up bolt upright.
He was sniffing me, and I could smell him too. The tang of leaves and the forest, with a whiff of animal and the scent of human.
‘Who are you?’ he asked in a language I didn’t understand. And yet, strangely enough, I did. Was this telepathy?
‘And who are you?!’ I asked back, the question was put forward in sheer panic mixed with some cunning. I was still trying to take in the awesome size of this Godzilla, and figured my question might help establish a bond with this primeval creature. But then, how would he understand my question, which probably sounded more like a squeal?
‘I am Ghatotkacha,’ he replied. ‘I am the rakshasa Ghatotkacha, born of the lord Bhimasena and the lady Hidimbi. I rule over hill and vale, forest and stream to protect the spirit of the forest and all who live in it.’
I understood this too, through some sort of teleprompter that seemed to have lodged itself somewhere in the left lobe of my brain like a Google Translate implant.
‘I am Chintamani Dev Gupta,’ I replied tentatively. But it wasn’t me speaking at all, perhaps some sort of decoder that seemed to be picking up on signals from my brain. Take control, I told myself, take control, or you will lose this mind game.
‘I am speaking Paisachi, but I am fluent in Prakrit and Sanskrit too,’ the giant replied.
He had huge red eyes that were lit up by the burning torch he held in his hand. But they were kind eyes . . . there was not even a hint of cruelty in them.
‘And don’t worry, I am not trying to take control of your mind!’
Weird, weirder, weirdest. He could actually read my mind! Holy cow! This situation was just impossible. I pinched myself even harder this time, so that I might now wake up from this fast-accelerating nightmare.
It only gets “weird, weirder, weirdest” from here on! You wouldn’t want to miss it! Grab your copy and dive right into the charming world of Ghatotkacha!

The Lehman Collapse Days, An Excerpt ‘From Lehman to Demonetization’

Tamal Bandyopadhyay is one of the most respected business journalists in India. He has had a ringside view of the major changes that came through in the Indian finance and banking sector in the last two decades. In his book ‘From Lehman to Demonetization’ he tells the epic story of banking in India in the last decade. The book features essays and interviews with stalwarts from the sector like Raghuram Rajan, Arundhati Bhattacharya, and many others.
Here is an excerpt from the book.
On the day US investment bank Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc. filed for bankruptcy, the chief executive officers of six large commercial banks assembled at a south Mumbai hotel to debate a topic close to every foreign banker’s heart: ‘Should India open up the financial sector?’ Y.V. Reddy, former RBI governor, widely known for his views against the opening up of the sector, had retired just ten days before the collapse.
His successor, D. Subbarao, former finance secretary, was to be the chief guest at the conference but he excused himself because he could not have expressed his views on the subject in his new role as RBI governor. Owing to the newsflash that morning, the mood at the conference was sombre and even the traditionally aggressive foreign bankers, who always blame the Indian banking regulator for keeping the doors closed, were restrained in their arguments. The beer tasted flat that evening, the food stale, and a few panellists, including ICICI Bank Ltd’s then managing director and CEO, K.V. Kamath, did not wait for the dinner and left immediately after the discussion was over.
The exposure of ICICI Bank, India’s largest private-sector lender, to Lehman Brothers was $83 million, less than 0.1 per cent of its consolidated balance sheet, but investors rushed to sell the bank’s stock and pulled it down by 15 per cent in the next few days as panic gripped the market. A few other banks, including State Bank of India (SBI) and Punjab National Bank, two large public-sector banks, had a small exposure to Lehman Brothers in various forms.
At a meeting with the executives of Lehman Brothers’ Indian arm and local banks, V. Leeladhar, then deputy governor of RBI, told the US investment bank to close all transactions with Indian banks within twenty-four hours. Lehman Brothers did so in forty-eight hours. It was running a non-banking financial company in India, but its entire capital was invested in government bonds and bank deposits; so the money was safe. Its broking arm, Lehman Brothers Securities Pvt. Ltd, housed in Ceejay House—hemmed in between the Arabian Sea and the glass-walled Atria shopping mall on Annie Besant Road in midtown Mumbai, the most expensive office space in the city—was taken over by Japan’s Nomura Holdings Inc. In October, Nomura also took over Lehman Brothers’ back office operations, which employed 2200 people, in Powai, a western suburb of Mumbai.
The panic did not last long. The global financial system had plunged into an unprecedented liquidity crunch after the Lehman collapse but India shrugged it off relatively easily. The GDP growth dropped to 3.5 per cent in the March 2009 quarter, but in the very next quarter, it rose to 5.9 per cent and by the September 2009 quarter, it bounced back to 9.3 per cent.
We all celebrated how resilient the Indian banking system was. A cautious and conservative regulator ring-fenced the Indian banks by not allowing them to take excessive risk.
However, we celebrated too early. The monetary policy and fiscal stimulus that followed after the collapse to ward off its impact led to a V-shaped recovery at that point, but it didn’t last long; seeds were sown for high inflation and bad assets. It took years to bottle the inflation genie but we are far from sorting out the problem of bad assets.
The first rate cut was announced on 20 October 2008, more than a month after the Lehman collapse and in the next six months, the policy rate was brought down from 9 per cent to 3.25 per cent (lower than the savings bank rate which was an administered rate then); the cash reserve ratio or the portion of deposits that banks keep with the RBI from 9 per cent to 5 per cent; and the floor for banks’ government bond holding from 25 to 24 per cent. Collectively, the cut in the reserve requirement and the opening of new refinance windows pumped Rs 5.6 trillion into the Indian financial system.

Why Science & Religion may not be Adversaries

By Dr Vineet Aggarwal
When young Jagdish aka J. C. Bose, a brilliant Indian scientist extended his hand to pluck a flower, his mother admonished, him, ‘Plants were not to be disturbed at night! It’s time for them to sleep.’
As a kid, when I heard similar warnings from my grandmother, I used to laugh them away calling her superstitious. Born in pre-independence India, my grandmother was barely educated, what would she know about plants or the science associated with them? It wasn’t until I took up botany years later and learnt the concept of Nyctinasty (in lay terms, the response of plants to changes in light intensity), that I realized how deeply based on science this suggestion actually was.
The innocuous statement said to a young J. C. Bose, helped change our understanding of the plant kingdom for all time to come for it made him show the world that plants could feel pain as well as understand affection. This realization made me wonder what could happen if we look at other such myths and so called superstitious religious beliefs in the light of science. There is so much information available at the click of a button that it is almost criminal to not to explore the world around us and get to know more about it.
When I tell someone I am a doctor, most people automatically assume I would have nothing to do with religion. The perception that people into science are not into religion and vice-a-versa is quite prevalent and I know it is not without reason. These two disciplines have always been at logger heads with each other. Galileo, who quite to the chagrin of the notions of established religion, used the telescope to declare that the Sun did not after all revolve around the earth, had to kneel to the clergy and accept that his theory was false.
Charles Darwin, who first came out with the Theory of Evolution faced considerable criticism. In spite of a huge body of evidence to support his claims, most religious clerics and even many men of science refused to accept the theory in his lifetime. Even today, leaders of various religious communities keep giving diktats to their followers on what is or isn’t acceptable. Similarly,  we find a lot of people educated in the modern system of schooling rubbishing religious beliefs as primitive mumbo jumbo. Of course a lot of religion is ritual but that doesn’t mean all of it is to be considered unscientific. At the same time, religious leaders should open their minds and consider that science is not against religion as much as it is against blind superstition.
So are Science and Religion destined to remain at loggerheads with each other? Maybe not if we keep an open mind towards the possibility that their amalgamation provides. Today, I am a blogger and an author precisely because I decided to explore the connection between them and share it with those kindred souls who might have the same interests as me.
My blog, Decode Hindu Mythology, has articles delving into various myths taken from comparative world mythologies. Each article utilizes at least one stream of science to analyze it in a better way for the modern audience. It could be archaeology, genetics, astronomy, linguistics, oceanography or any other branch of science that is relevant for that particular topic and I am glad to observe a healthy response from readers all over the globe.
To give an example of what I have been rambling about, the three big religions of the world – Christianity, Islam and Hinduism – talk about the ‘Great Deluge’ that drowned everything and life could continue only when God intervened and selected one virtuous man to begin life anew after the waters receded. According to the Abrahamic religions, the only survivor of this global flood was Noah who survived by creating an Ark as commanded by God’s angels while in Hindu beliefs, this task was undertaken by Vaivasvat Manu with help from Lord Vishnu’s Matsya, amphibian Avatar.
When I researched more I found that such flood-myths were not restricted to these three religions, and could be found in mythologies from Philippines to Babylon to Egypt to Nigeria and Mexico! I wondered if the presence of these myths in widely separated geographies indicated that a large part of the globe had really gone underwater at some time in history and while finding the answer to a question posed by religion, it was science that came to the rescue.
In the glacial period all water was withdrawn from the oceans and got stored as ice that covers the land in thick sheets of ice. When the meltdown begins, all water was released back into the oceans, inundating what used to be habitable land and wiping out signs of all civilization. The stories of Noah and Vaivasvat Manu then may just be the stories of the survivors of that global flood that affected almost all coastal civilizations. Not too much difference between the beliefs of science and religion then?
This is not the only example; a similar congruity can be found in descriptions of the Sun-god (Apollo to the Romans, Ra for the Egyptians and Surya in Hinduism) traveling across the skies. Hindu sages describe that the Sun-god’s chariot has one central wheel with twelve spokes and is drawn by seven horses. Sounds like a fairytale till you pause to think about the extremely specific numbers. Could it be possible that the central wheel with twelve spokes was actually a metaphor for the Solar year, divided into twelve months? Would it be too far-fetched if I equated the seven horses yoked to this fantastic chariot with the seven colors that comprised the sunlight?
There are many such interesting nuggets you find once you start exploring the scriptures. Today, as I explore new ideas for writing such posts as well as books on lesser known characters from India’s scriptures, I try and weave into the plots a sense of scientific endeavor. The protagonists of my books – Vishwamitra, Parshu-Raam and Bharat – do not confine themselves to use of mystical spells and paranormal activity but also utilize science and technology to achieve their wondrous feats.
My research for the blog as well as the books has also led me to the conclusion that it may never be possible to draw a neat segregating line between science and religion. If instead of seeing the two as competitors, we accept that they may actually be complimentary to each other, it opens up a wide vista of knowledge that can help both disciplines learn from each other. After all, isn’t that the common goal of both religion and science – the enlightenment of human mind?
I conclude with the belief that it is high time we let science and religion co-exist once again just as they have done since the beginning of mankind. Only then we can ensure a brighter and more holistic future for humanity.
About the Author
After dabbing with his family profession, Dr Vineet Aggarwal undertook writing. Not only is he a bestselling author, he also runs a blog called ‘Decode Hindu Mythology’ which has a dedicated readership. Dr Aggarwal is also working with an Indian pharmaceutical MNC.

Let’s Revisit the Golden Temple with Amma and Her Boys!

Remember when Bhakti Mathur and her boys took you and your little one on an enchanting journey to Amritsar’s Golden Temple? The beautiful architecture of one of the holiest places for Sikhs, the delectable langar served after prayers, a dip in the holy sarovar — Amma and her boys take you through an experience that stays with you forever.
Let’s take you through the Golden Temple once again through the pages of Amma, Take Me to the Golden Temple.
 
The rich history of the Golden Temple that stands tall for decades

The yummy taste of the karah prasad!

The peace and calm of the glorious inner sanctum

Taking a dip in the holy water facing Harmandir Sahib

The exquisite, golden palanquin carrying the Guru Granth Sahib

 
The history of the Golden Temple comes alive with the stunning illustrations in Bhakti Mathur’s Amma, Take Me to the Golden Temple.
Now get ready to join Amma and her boys on an exciting trip to the famous Tirupati! Pre-order your copy today!

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