1. Mahavira the Mathematician

2. Bhaskaracharya

3. On Sarasvathi and Kali

4. On recognizing the past: the Kerala School

5. Murugan

6. Logic of non-Western science

7. The science of Grammar and Panini

8. The Carvaka School

9. Nammaazvaar  1-5 - On Forms of God

10. Indic Epistemology

11. Epistemology - 2

12. Theory of Epistemic Relativity

13. Anekantavada - Classical Jain and Modern Vedantic Pluralism

14. Anekantavada 2

15. The Grand Unified Field Theory

16. Science and Technology prior to contact with the West

17. More on the Grand Unified Field Theory

18. Encounter with Modern Science

19. Jagdish Chandra Bose

20. More on the Grand Unified Field Theory

21. More on the Grand Unified Field Theory

22. Acharya Prafulla Chandra Ray

23. Srinivasa Ramanujan

24. Meghnath Saha

25. Satyendranath Bose

26. Homi Jehangir Bhabha

27. E. C. George Sudarshan

28. Vasudev Mangesh Kenkre

29. Science in India

30. Foreign Factors

31. Lord Siva and the Burning of the Triple Cities - Sundarar

32. Rudram - Eighth Anuvaka

33. Xuangzang

34. Ancient Hindu civilisation and mathematics

35. Al Biruni

36. Metatheism

37. Sexuality Blinds the Eyes and Closes the Mind - Sundarar

38. William Jones

39. William Carey

40. Henry Thomas Colebrooke

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Mahavira

"Salutation to Mahavira, the Lord of the Jains, the protector whose four
infinite attributes, worthy to be esteemed in all the three worlds, are
unsurpassable."

These are not words from a prayer book, but the opening line in a work on
mathematics by a Jain mathematician with the same name as the 24th
Thirthankara of his tradition. And he goes on to say:
"I bow to that highly glorious Lord of the Jains, by whom, as forming the
shining lamp of the knowledge of numbers, the whole of the universe has been
made to shine."

In this statement Mahavira expresses a profound truth: namely that the
physical world functions in accordance with mathematical laws (numbers).

This recognition emerged in the Western world in the 17th century in
post-Copernican science when Galileo famously said century that the laws of
nature are written in the language of mathematics. We note here that
Mahavira, the Indian mathematician, had said pretty much the same thing in
the above quote, and with a touch of reverence too, already in the 9th
century.

Mahavira was from the south of India: Karnataka. Ganitas?sangraha is his
major work. It was translated into (classical) Telugu, perhaps the first
mathematical work in that language. Unlike most other people who worked on
such matters at the time, Mahavira did not deal with astronomy; he was
essentially a mathematician.

The treatise consists of nine chapters. It begins with an introduction that
defines the mathematical terms in the book, and goes on to consider
arithmetical operations, fractions, areas, volumes, etc. Mahavira was one of
the first Indian mathematicians to introduce the lowest common multiple
method for the addition of fractions. Today this is taught routinely to
school children all over the world. He also presents formulas for the
summation of some series, and gave a formula for the volume of a sphere.

It has been said by some commentators that Mahavira merely rehashed the
works of earlier investigators like Aryabhata and Brahmagupta. He did not
claim more when he described himself as a mere compiler of mathematical
truths which had been gathered by many great and holy sages of the past.

However, such re-formulations and re-publications of standard results played
a very important role in the continuation and further development of
science, especially at a time when there were not many books, nor large
dissemination modes.

Secondly, Mahavira's insight discerned a very significant result which was
to play a crucial role in mathematics a millennium later. It related to
this: When we multiply a number by itself, the result is called its square.

It is also generally known that whether the number in question is positive
or negative, the square is always positive. Thus 2 times 2 is 4, and minus 2
times minus 2 is also 4. Thus, as one says, the square root of 4 may be + 2
or -2.

Given this, we may ask: Can we talk about the square root of a negative
number? This is a more profound question than would seem at first glance.

Perhaps the first person in history to have considered this question was
Mahavira. In the context of the roots of quadratic equations, he stumbled
upon (what we now call) imaginary numbers, but he discarded them. It must be
recalled that even a thousand years later, mathematicians felt that one
should abandon square roots of negative numbers because, as Cauchy said,
"one does not know what meaning should be attributed to it." This is why E.
T. Bell wrote: "The first clear recognition of imaginaries was Mahavira's
extremely intelligent remark in the 9th century that, in the nature of
things, a negative number has no square root."

In Mahavira's work algebra is always tied up with practical problems. Here
is one such: "One fourth of a herd of camels was seen in the forest; twice
the square root (of the number in the herd) had gone to mountain slopes; and
three times five camels were found to remain on the bank of a river. How
many camels were there in the original herd?" [See if you can figure out the
answer: 36].

Here is a sample of the poetic language Mahavira used in some problems:
"Into the bright and refreshing outskirts of a forest, which were full of
numerous trees with their branches bent down by the weight of flowers and
fruits, trees like jambu, lime, plantain, areca palms, jack trees, date
palms, Palmyras, punnangas, and mango trees .... the various quarters of
which were filled with many sounds of crowds of parrots and cuckoos found
near springs containing lotuses with bees roaming around them; into the
outskirts of such a forest entered with joy a number of weary travelers.
There were sixty three numerically equal heaps of plantain fruits put
together and combined with seven more of the same fruits, and these were
equally distributed among twenty three travelers so as to have no remainder.
Now tell me how many plantains were there in each heap."

Such passages remind us of the time when science, literature,and religion
went hand in hand. The great scientific thinkers were also religious,
spiritual, and literary people.

V. V. Raman
October 31, 2005

"Lovely and dear Lilavati with fawn's eyes, tell me what are the numbers
resulting from the multiplication of 135 and 12?" Nowadays we would simple
ask: "135 x 12 = ?" But it is in such a personalized and poetic way that we
read the problem in a book attributed to Bhaskaracharya (also known as
Bhaskara II) who was another illustrious mathematician and astronomer of
classical India. He was born in Bijjada Bida (Karnataka). But his reputation
spread far and wide. Scholars studied and commented upon his works even in
as far a place as Patna. In our own times, historians of mathematics
continue to discuss and analyze Bhaskara's writings and contributions.

At least six of Bhaskara's manuscripts have survived, of which three are
quite famous. The first, known as Lilavati from which the opening question
is taken, is probably named after his daughter, although some have suggested
it might have been his wife. One version of a moving legend associated with
its composition runs somewhat as follows:
Astrologers had predicted that there would be no moment in Lilavati's life
that would be auspicious enough for her marriage. Bhaskara, an astrologer
himself, made extensive computations; and he calculated on the basis of her
horoscope a precise congenial moment at which Lilavati could be betrothed
without fear of an ill-starred married life. He now constructed a device
consisting of a bowl with a hole, which was left floating in a bucket of
water. Water gradually began to enter the cup. The instant at which enough
water seeped through to sink the bowl would be the right moment when the
formal step for Lilavati's wedding was to be taken.

Young Lilavati, so goes the story, was so fascinated by the device that she
bent over to gaze at the gradual trickling of the water into the cup. While
she was in that state of wonderment, a pearl broke loose from an ornament
she was wearing, and fell into the bowl, blocking the hole and obstructing
further entry of the water. The carefully reckoned instant could no longer
be caught. Bhaskara was as dejected as his daughter.

In fact, when she was married, Lilavati's husband died soon. To cheer her
up, the mathematician-father decided to dedicate a major work to her. He
assured her that while marital thrills don't last for long, she would be
remembered for ever on account of that work. Lilavati's name has indeed
become immortal, since it is associated with Bhaskaracharya's classic in the
history of mathematics.

We do not know how far the Lilavati legend is true, but it is charming
enough to be retold in whatever version. What we know for sure is that
Bhaskara also wrote a mathematical masterpiece called Siddhantasiromani with
three parts, of which the first one is sometimes taken to be Lilavati.

Lilavati has 13 chapters, dealing with arithmetical operations, plane
geometry, simple interests, and basic algebra. The work introduces the
decimal system of numeration and prescribes rules for multiplication and
division by zero. Bhaskaracharya was one of the first to realize that the
result of division by zero would be infinity, not zero as his contemporaries
had thought. This is a deep insight. Some of the problems in this work give
us an idea of the social and economic framework of the period: for there are
references here to slaves, to the monetary equivalence between females and
oxen, to the common rates of interest on loans, etc.

Centuries later, the Emperor Akbar heard about the work, and in 1587 he
instructed Aby al-Fayd Faydi to bring out a Persian translation of the work.

The second important work attributed to Bhaskara is the Bijaganita,
literally: "seed arithmetic." Here negative numbers are considered, using,
like Brahmagupta, the analogy of debts, while positive numbers are compared
to assets. Bhaskara explains how surds may be added together, showing, for
example, that the square root of three plus the square root of twelve is
three times the square root of three. He also states the general principle
by which irrational numbers may be added, multipled, divided, etc. The roots
of irrationals are considered. The Bijaganita also discusses indeterminate,
simultaneous, as well as quadratic equations in more than one unknown. This
work was also translated into Persian.

Siddhantashiromani discusses mathematical astronomy and also the geometry of
the sphere. In 1858, Bapudeva Sastri published a paper in the Journal of the
Asiatic Society of Bengal in which he argued that Bhaskara had clear
insights into the key notions of the differential calculus more than four
centuries before Newton and Leibniz. This was challenged by W. Spotiswoode,
and promptly forgotten. In the 1990s this controversy was revived, and now
it is generally agreed by many scholars that Bhaskara did have some of the
fundamental concepts that eventually gave rise to the calculus centuries
later in another part of the world. If there are had been the appropriate
infrastructure to debate and develop his ideas, a full-blown calculus might
have emerged in India.

V. V. Raman
November 2, 2005

Sarasvathi is an aspect of the Lord. Thats how our saints have described and thats how we have seen her. She is a Being, a separate distinctive Being, not a river.

In Hindu iconography she is depicted as a Goddess holding a book and a veena, both representing cultural refinements - culture being the mind rising and flowering. But this is not the subconscious or the intellectual mind, rather the rising of the superconscious mind, the flow of the self-god. And it does indeed flow like words and music or vibrations. This iconography of Sarasvathi was just perfect to describe this aspect of the One Lord.

The river sarasvathi is also taken as one of the icons of the Goddess, and both share the same name. We simply named the river after her. Perhaps this led to the confusion. To be sure the Goddess existed long before the river came about
and long after the river has disappeared. Again to be sure, that river is not even the most important one in Hinduism. That distinction goes to the ganga. Recall in our daily mantras;
"gange, yamune, sarasvathi,
sutudr stomagam sacata..

The sarasvathi river is mentioned only third in importance, and still this verse concludes with 'ganga snanam samarpayami', not sarasvathi. Hindus have to delink the Godess Sarasvathi from the river sarasvathi to get the right perspectives of the religion.

Neither did our rishis receive the vedas sitting on the banks of this river. That may be a romantic notion. It would be better to think that the vedas were revealed from Tibet to Kanyakumari, and from Assam to Kabul, and even further than that into the cold slopes of Kazakhstan. It was also revealed to regular housewives while cooking or doing other mundane chores, not even meditating. It was revealed to a whole host of people, from maids to woodcutters to the cowherd. Not quite romantic huh? But what veda we got today was only those that were recorded for posterity.

Hindus worship the gods following their sects and sampradayas or their ancestral connection with certain temples or gods. I dont think worship of
specific gods has any jaati linkage, though yes, some groups may have their favourites.

All Hindus worship Sarasvathi. This is a better idea to hold rather than just brahmins worship her. All Hindu children pray to Sarasvathi. In all Bali schools
Sarasvathi is worshiped EVERYDAY. Sarasvathi worship cuts across sectarian and jaati lines for sure. Almost all of us have an icon of Sarasvathi in our home shrines.

Yesterday I conducted a homa and abishegam for Lord Muruga, being the first day of Skanda Shasthi. I listened to the chants carefully, and yes, not only Lord Subrahmanya, but all the gods are honoured;
Ganapati, Agni, Rudra, Sarasvathi, Vishnu, Brihaspati, etc. In Hindu prayer-rituals there is no sectarianism! That is the rule, else the priests wont do the pujas.

Kali is not black nor fierce looking nor brings death. On the contrary she is golden skinned, exceedingly beautiful, enchanting and mesmerising, tall about 5' 10", very slim probably 55kg, wearing a red saree with a green sleeveless blouse, her long hair let loose and nearly touching her ankles, wearing a crown, armlets and a flower garland. What a sight to behold. A queen! She appears to be about age 40.
Of course she can take other forms too. She blesses everyone all the time, gives spiritual knowledge and only does that, nothing fierce at all and she destroys nothing.

Shiva alone brings decay, death and destruction and in that process gives moksha as his grace. No one else.

Pathmarajah

Ethnocentrism has been a characteristic of most great civilizations. The
Greeks, the Chinese, the Hindus, the Arabs, all imagined themselves in their
respective glory days to be unique in some ways, perhaps superior to others.

So during the first few centuries of modern science many European thinkers
imagined that they were the first to discover the scientific mode, and that
others had done little, if any, in the field of scientific research.

At the same time, starting with the European Enlightenment in the 18th
century, scholars began to probe into humanity's cultural legacies. From the
untiring quest of such scholars much of ancient history, from Greek and
Egyptian to Chinese, Hindu, and Arab science came to be uncovered from their
long-forgotten relics. This was and is a slow process. But already in the
early 19th century, when it was discovered that the concept of the zero had
originated in India, Laplace, one of te greatest mathematicians of the age,
wrote: "The ingenious method of expressing every possible number using a set
of ten symbols (each symbol having a place value and an absolute value)
emerged in India. The idea seems so simple nowadays that its significance
and profound importance is no longer appreciated. Its simplicity lies in the
way it facilitated calculation and placed arithmetic foremost amongst useful
inventions. the importance of this invention is more readily appreciated
when one considers that it was beyond the two greatest men of Antiquity,
Archimedes and Apollonius."

The quest for the forgotten past has continued, not only through archeology
which unearths and reconstructs lost civilizations but also by deciphering
ancient scripts and translating fading manuscripts in leaves, parchments,
and such. One of the results from such efforts was reported by the British
scholar Charles Whish in 1835 in the Transactions of the Royal Asiatic
Society of Great Britain and Ireland. Whish wrote about mathematicians in
Kerala whose significant works had been all but forgotten. He also asserted
that some of their ideas were essentially the fluxions of Newton: the
derivatives that form the core of differential calculus which is at the core
of practically all modern higher mathematics. He went on to unravel in the
ancient manuscripts the equivalent of what we now call infinite series,
particularly of some trigonometric functions and of pi. Whish's discoveries
were so revolutionary in their interpretation and so demanding in their
claims that they was set aside and ignored.

More than a century later, some Indian historians of mathematics referred
back to this paper and pursued the matter to greater depths. More
importantly, they have brought all of this to the attention of the larger
international establishment.

Unfortunately, in the meanwhile, historical scholarship had morphed into
quarrels over priorities: Indian scholars, in their understandable anger at
Western marginalizing of their culture and heritage, accused the European
mindset as ethnocentric in interpretations of history; European scholars, in
their difficult-to-erase conviction that their own civilization was the one
that had developed the results of modern science and mathematics, accused
others of excessive claims, fueled by chauvinism rather than facts.

Leaving aside these controversies which are certain to be resolved in due
course, it seems to be now established that the contributions between the
13th and the 16th centuries of what is called the Kerala school of
mathematics were path-breaking. To that school belonged such creative
mathematicians as Madhva of Sangamagramma who formulated the notion of limit
to infinity (a key concept in calculus), Nilakantha who derived an infinite
series for pi/4 (the so-called Gregory series), the astronomer Paramesvara
who wrote extensively on planetary motions, Jyesthadeva's 16th century text
Yuktibhasa in Malayalam, rich in astronomy and mathematics. One Hindu
historian has suggested that their results were transmitted to European
thinkers via Portuguese missionary-scholars, and inspired the Scientific
Revolution.

It is fashionable these days to pay frequent and explicit homage to the
Islamic world as the root of modern science. Beyond its factual basis, many
political forces are at play in drumming up this view. The facts of history
may be blown up or belittled, depending on who writes the history, and for
what purpose. In this context, the time has come to publicize to the world
more vociferously that some of the seeds for those roots were sown in India.

The eloquent, persuasive and scholarly publications of some Indian
historians of science have been gradually accomplishing this in recent
years.

What matters ultimately - or should matter, as I see it - is not national
boost or cultural pride but setting the record straight. After all, great
thinkers, be they scientists or mathematicians, poets or philosophers, have
sprung over the ages from every culture and creed, and they all deserve to
be acknowledged in just and fair ways for their contributions, since they
all deserve humanity's collective respect and homage.

The Tamil word Murugan means beauty, youthfulness divine etc,. Murugan is the God with these aspects. Subramaniyam, Kanthan, Velan, Kadampan, Karthigeyan, Kumaran, Saravanan etc., are other names for Murugan. Each name has its own meaning.

Arumugan is another name. It means One with six faces. Lord Siva has six faces but only five are apparent. Arumugan is Siva in manifestation with six faces. Sixth face is called Athomugam. Others are Esanam, Ahoram, Thatpurusham, Vamathevam, and Saththiyosatham. Hence Murugan is sometimes
referred to as Arumugach Sivan, meaning Siva with six faces.

Murugan is seated on peacock with His consorts, Valli and Theivanai and holding Vel and Seval(cock). Valli, Theivanai and Vel denote ichchai, kriyai
and jnanam respectively. The cock or seval crows in the early hours of the morning when the dawn breaks in and darkness vanishes. It denotes the advent of God's Grace and the disappearance of the darkness of pasam of the souls. The peacock on which He is seated denotes the liberated soul. The snake in the leg of the peacock denotes anavam which is not annihilated even at mukthi but looses
its power or grib on the soul.

Murugan is described as Tamil God in the literatures of Tamil land. Like Murugan, Tamil is a beautiful language with 'youthfulness and vigour'. The
Tamil vowels are classified as vallinam, mellinam and idaiyinam. Each of these groups has six letters akin to the six faces of Murugan. The eighteen vowels
are comparable to His eighteen eyes. The twelve consonants are comparable to His twelve hands.

The Tamil epic Kanthapuranam speaks of the manifestation of Siva as Murugan, His marriage, and His fight against evil and wickedness symbolised as asuras. Like a teacher He wispered Omhara Mantra (OM) to Siva and hence He is called Sivaguru. By worshipping Murugan, we will be blessed with jnanam or knowledge, beauty, youthfulness, courage etc,.

THE TEMPLES OF LORD MURUGA:

1. THIRUPPARAMKUNTRAM

It is near Madurai. It is here that Lord Muruga married Theivayanai.

2. THIRUCHENDUR

It is near Tuticorin. It is here that Lord Muruga stayed before and after killing Soora Padman.

3. PALANI

It is in Madurai District. The thirtha of Saravan Poihai is here. The shrine was installed by a sage called Bohar.

4. SWAMIMALAI

It is 6 Kms west of Kumbakonam. It is here that Lord Muruga unfolded mantras to Siva.

5. TIRUTTANI

It is 75 Kms North west of Chennai. It is here that Muruga married Valli.

6. PAZHAMUTHIRCHOLAI

It is located near Madurai. It is the last of the six important temples.

visit
www.geocities.com/shivaperuman
www.geocities.com/shivaperumant
www.geocities.com/arumuganavalar

Fall 2003 by Pingree, David.

Nilakantha made a number of observations of planetary and lunar
positions and of eclipses between 1467 and 1517. Nilakantha
presented several different sets of planetary parameters and
significantly different planetary models, which, however, remained
geocentric. He never indicates how he arrived at these new
parameters and models, but he appears to have based them at least in
large part on his own observations. For he proclaims in his
Jyotirmimamsa - contrary to the frequent assertion made by Indian
astronomers that the fundamental siddhantas expressing the eternal
rules of jyotihsastra are those alleged to have been composed by
deities such as Surya - that astronomers must continually make
observations so that the computed phenomena may agree as closely as
possible with contemporary observations. Nilakantha says that this
may be a continuous necessity because models and parameters are not
fixed, because longer periods of observation lead to more accurate
models and parameters, and because improved techniques of observing
and interpreting results may lead to superior solutions. This
affirmation is almost unique in the history of Indian jyotisa;
jyotisis generally seem to have merely corrected the parameters of
one paksa to make them closely corresponded to those of another.

The discoveries of the successive generations of Madhava's 'school'
continued to be studied in Kerala within a small geographical area
centered on Sangamagrama. The manuscripts of the school's Sanskrit
and Malayalam treatises, all copied in the Malayalam script, never
traveled to another region of India; the furthest they got was
Katattanat in northern Kerala, about one hundred miles north of
Sangamagrama, where the Rajakumara Sankara Varman repeated Madhava's
trigonometrical series in a work entitled Sadratnamala in 1823. This
was soon picked up by a British civil servant, Charles M. Whish, who
published an article entitled "On the Hindu Quadrature of the Circle
and the Infinite Series of the Proportion of the Circumference to
the Diameter in the Four Sastras, the Tantra Sangraham, Yocti
Bhasha, Carana Paddhati and Sadratnamala" in Transactions of the
Royal Asiatic Society in 1830.2 While Whish was convinced that the
Indians (he did not know of Madhava) had discovered calculus - a
conclusion that is not true even though they successfully found the
infinite series for trigonometrical functions whose derivation was
closely linked with the discovery of calculus in Europe in the
seventeenth century - other Europeans scoffed at the notion that the
Indians could have achieved such a startling success. The proper
assessment of Madhava's work began only with K. Mukunda Marar and C.
T. Rajagopal's "On the Hindu Quadrature of the Circle," published in
the Journal of the Bombay Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society in
1944.

So while the discoveries of Newton, Leibniz, and Gregory
revolutionized European mathematics immediately upon their
publication, those of Madhava, Paramesvara, and Nilakantha, made
between the late fourteenth and early sixteenth centuries, became
known to a handful of scholars outside of Kerala in India, Europe,
America, and Japan only in the latter half of the twentieth century.
This was not due to the inability of Indian jyotisis to understand
the mathematics, but to the social, economic, and intellectual
milieux in which they worked. The isolation of brilliant minds was
not uncommon in premodern India. The exploration of the millions of
surviving Sanskrit and vernacular manuscripts copied in a dozen
different scripts would probably reveal a number of other Madhavas
whose work deserves the attention of historians and philosophers of
science. Unfortunately, few scholars have been trained to undertake
the task, and the majority of the manuscripts will have crumbled in
just another century or two, before those few can rescue them from
oblivion.

For a description of the table of chords, cyclic quadrilaterals, two-
point iteration, fixedpoint iteration, and several other
mathematical terms mentioned in this essay, please see Victor J.
Katz, A History of Mathematics : An Introduction (New York:
HarperCollins, 1993).

2 Note that the Tantrasangraha was written by the Nilakantha whom we
have already mentioned, the Yuktibhasa by his colleague and fellow
pupil of Damodara, Jyesthadeva, and the Karanapaddhati by a resident
of the Putumana illam in Sivapura in 1723.

David Pingrce, a Fellow of the American Academy since 1971, is
University Professor in the department of the history of mathematics
at Brown University. He teaches about the transmission of science
between cultures, and his publications include many editions of
astronomical, astrological, and magical works in Akkadian, Arabic,
Greek, Latin, and Sanskrit. Most recently he has written "Arabic
Astronomy in Sanskrit" (with T. Kusuba, 2002), "Astral Sciences in
Mesopotamia" (with H. Hunger, 1999), and "Babylonian Planetary
Omens" (with E. Reiner, 1998).

© 2003 by the American Academy of Arts & Sciences

When we speak of science, we generally refer to physics, chemistry, biology
and the like. Science is, more generally, a methodological analysis of any
aspect of our world of experience. One important dimension of our experience
is language. The ways in which languages evolve and are imprinted in the
human brain are matters for scientific inquiry. Of no less interest in our
efforts to understand languages are the structures and rules undergirding
them. Inquiry into these aspects and the consequent generalizations (laws)
constitute a science in itself: linguistics. This science had its origins in
India. The most ancient thinker whose name is associated with the science of
grammar is Panini.

Systematic analysis of Vedic hymns suggests that their authors were
meticulously following principles of prosody. Clearly, such rules existed
more than 35 centuries ago in India. Just as there can be no grand temple or
cathedral without an understanding of the laws governing structure and
balance, metrically perfect poetry would be impossible without an
understanding of the structure and symmetry of words and language. Analyses
of language must have been carried out in India since very ancient times.
The works of generations of scholars on this subject culminated in a classic
treatise called Ashtadhyayi (Eight Chapters) by Panini. This work explains
what the roots of the words are, the declension of nouns, how compound words
are to be split, and everything that forms part of the integrity of
Sanskrit, revealing the logic of the language, as it were.

Because of its stature, Panini's work (4th or 5th century B.C.E.) cast into
obscurity more ancient works which may have also codified the language. To
this day, it reigns supreme in the world of Sanskrit studies. Any formal
course in the language presents at least some of the rules enunciated by the
immortal grammarian.

Like other regulations which establish order, Panini's classic froze the
language with its stringent rules. Though some have disagreed with some of
the rules, none dared to go against the master. What is impressive from a
historical perspective is that millennia before any other culture even
thought of studying the anatomy and physiology of a language, Panini's work
did it masterfully.

The chapters of the book consist of nearly 4000 aphorisms which describe and
prescribe the canonical forms of Sanskrit. The remarkable terseness of the
aphorisms is helpful in committing them to memory. Some have suggested that
Panini himself may have given the language the name Sanskrit which literally
means that which has been cultivated or perfected, in order to distinguish
it from vulgar speech (Prakrit).

Panini's insight was the recognition that the words of a language spring
from certain basic roots by means of inflections and other modifications.
This is not unlike the discovery of chemists that all substances arise from
the combination of certain basic elements. Panini listed some 2000 roots for
Sanskrit. He distinguished the rhythmic enunciations (chandas) of hymnal
poetry from normally uttered speech (bh?a). He also noted that the
infinite modes of linguistic expression can be systematized through a finite
number of rules and exceptions. This again is not unlike the recognition of
physicists that the countless particular natural phenomena can be tracked
down through a finite number of natural laws and principles. No wonder
Panini is regarded as the greatest grammarian of ancient India: the only
country that had grammarians in ancient times.

In an essay on Sanskrit, John Ellsworth remarked that "For a comprehensive
grasp of linguistic facts, and a penetrating insight into the structure of
the vernacular language, this work (Ashtadyayi) stands probably unrivaled in
the literature of any nation."

The discovery of Sanskrit by European scholars in the 18th century was a
major milestone in the intellectual history of humanity, for it led to
deeper understandings of languages, interconnections among ancient peoples,
and investigations into the cultural heritage of humanity from global
perspectives. No less remarkable is the 20th century discovery that Panini's
linguistic analysis embodies profound insights into natural language.

Investigations into the structure of computer programming languages and
their grammars have revealed forms (the so-called Backus-Naur forms) which
seem to be implicit in Panini's work of centuries ago. In the view of some
specialists in the field, the Ashtadyayi is very relevant in some contexts
of theoretical computer science. It has also been suggested that Panini's
grammar inspired the formulation of algebra in India.

All this is not surprising when we realize that complex fields in
mathematics and science rest on conceptual formulations which lay bare the
deeper order and components from which the experienced world arises.

Furthermore, we recognize through Panini that beyond the plays, poetry and
philosophy that enrich it, Sanskrit also has implicit in its core
fundamental truths about language and communication which serve as
life-giving bonds for society and civilization. Panini was truly a great
sage of ancient India.

The impression one gets from most books and public statements on Indic culture is that its thinkers were and are primarily occupied with
transcendental reality, its role in human life, and how one is to attain an awareness of it. But this is only a partial vision of Indic cultural history. When try to get a fuller picture of the range and variety
of Indic thoughts and systems over the centuries, we find that contrary philosophical reflections have also emerged in India. Scholarly works on the
history of Indian thought normally devote a few pages to systems which reject traditional authorities on spirituality; some even denying God or anything supernatural.

One of these schools, attributed to a personage by the name of Carvaka, is known for its uncompromising materialism. It ridicules and rejects
the spiritual refrain in Indic culture. For the members of the Carvaka school, the only channels of our knowledge are sense perceptions. They
contended that everything else is only inference. And they went on to argue that inference is not always reliable. Long before David Hume, the
Carvakas attacked inductive reasoning, questioning the logic of extrapolating and generalizing from what we know directly to be true only in particular
cases. They recognized the role of induction, as also its pitfalls, in the acquisition of knowledge.

For the Carvakas, all that mattered was matter itself. They conceded that there was consciousness, but to them this was another manifestation of matter. Jivatman and paramatman were gibberish, they maintained. A person dies, and that is the end of it: No spirit and no re-entry into
another body. Rituals serve no purpose but to feed the priests.

A natural consequence of this philosophy was a hedonistic ethic: As long as we live, let us make the best of it. Pleasure should be the ultimate
goal of all enterprise. Every unenjoyed moment is a wasted moment. Those who preach that we should renounce the world because of pain and suffering want to throw the baby with the bathwater. There is pain and suffering in life, it is true; but there is also thorn in every rose. Does it mean we should
ignore the rose? Should grain be discarded because husk comes with it?

These ideas sound very alien to the normal modes of Hindu thinking, yet they are as Hindu as any other. All through Indian history, thinkers with
such heretical views have come up now and again, moving counter to the common current. However, in the view of most respected Hindu scholars of the
twentieth century, these were exceptions rather than the rule. As Radhakrishnan pointed out, "The characteristic of Indian thought is that it has paid greater attention to the inner world than to the outer world."

But some have suggested that one reason for this could be that other perspectives were seldom permitted to become part of the mainstream.

One scholar who has studied the history of the Cravaka movement and written extensively on it, noted that the proponents of this view were "heavily censored as heretics by the law-givers and others." Nevertheless, the calls and categories of the Carvaka school were never totally silenced,
though they never came to be asserted effectively.

Radical and heretical thinkers like the Lokayatas (as they were also called) sometimes broke away and established new religions or they became brief
chapters, if not footnotes, in books on Indian philosophy.

It is entirely possible that Carvaka was but a symbol, a name for a whole group of people who did not take the routine rites and rituals seriously; for whom feast and frolic were more meaningful than prayer or pilgrimage. As to Carvaka himself, he is even less real than that of the great rishis, for
there is hardly any writing that can be directly attributed to him.

It has also been argued that while the pundits spoke metaphysically, the common people more often than not subscribed to a materialist view of the world. The classical commentator Madhvacarya wrote: "The mass of men, in accordance with the sastras of policy and enjoyment, considering wealth and
desire the only ends of man, and denying the existence of any object belonging to a future world, are found to follow only the doctrine of Carvaka. Hence another name for that school is Lokayata.." This term may mean "of the people" or "of the world."

The relevance of the Cravaka school lies in this: that for the good or for the bad, modern positive sciences generally adopt the Carvaka worldview
in that it regards reality as only that which can be perceived through the senses. Supernaturalism has no place in it. Some historians have argued that
if thinkers belonging to Carvaka school had succeeded in asserting themselves, and their ideas had been embraced by many serious investigators, the spark of modern science might well have been lit up in the Indian subcontinent long before it did so in Western Europe. [This is not unlike the view that if India had embraced communism in its early years,
it could have become stronger and more advanced than China by now.]

In such a if-then history, if the materialist school had prevailed, modern science as we understand the term today would have spread from India to the
rest of the world, rather than the other way around.

avaravar tamatamatu aRivu aRi vakaivakai: each in accordance with their own capacity for understanding.

avaravar iRaivar ena adi adaivarkaL: will worship BEING in the archetypal form presented to them and attain Him.

avaravar iRaiyavar kuRaivu ilar: there is nothing wrong in the different archetypal presentations of BEING.

iRaiyavar avaravar vitivazi adaiya ninRanaree: each in his own way worships the deity he chooses and will finally attain BEING.
 
Commentary:
This verse describes beautifully one of the central tenets of Agamism and which will make it conquer the world in time to come by the OPENESS it enshrines and INDIVIDUAL DIFERENCE in metaphysical pursuits  it accommodates. While tribalism favours a COLLECTIVE mentality in which UNIFORMITY is enforced even at the pain of death,  Agamism in being against tribalism favours individualism in the practice of religion. Each individual has his UNIQUENESS and intellectual and emotional needs and BEING presents Himself in a archetypal Form most suited to that individual in current predicament. Like a kind and excellent teacher who comes down to the level of the student he teaches so that an UNDERSTANDING can be brought about successfully so does BEING,  the most excellent Guru. He discloses Himself in so many archetypal forms high and low so that it would MAKE SENSE to the individual and hence somehow he kept in the understanding of BEING, no matter how primitive it is. 
 
So these numerous archetypal presentations are NOT TO BE SCORNED and made and object of mockery and pointless ridicule. Certainly there are High and Low in this but however as the DEEP STRUCTURE of all such archetypes we have the SAME BEING. There are no different gods but only ONE GOD, the BEING who chooses to PRESENT Himself in countless number of shapes just to help to individuals. BEING is not only the FORMLESS and abstract Brilliance and in which he appears for the gifted but also the so many minor deities that the less gifted individuals use to understand BEING. 
 
Nammaazvaar, as do Karaikkal Peyar Tirumular and a host of others, states quite categorically that there is nothing wrong at all in any one of deities.  No archetypal presentation is to be scorned at for all of them all equally the presentation of the same BEING. Behind Krishna and Rama, behind Muruka and Vinakaya or even Muniswarar, we have the SAME BEING as the Deep Structure, the underlying reality. And BEING will pull unto Himself all in His own way no matter what archetypal presentations evokes sanctity in an individual. 

There is no THE archetype or THE way -- there is always an OPENESS , the emergence  of the historically NEW  and hence DEMAND that  we  BE OPEN. And in this way Agamism is OPPOSED to the regimenting religions that believe in conversions and collective uniformities. Such demands are a VIOLATION of the  RIGHT  individuals have to reach BEING in his own personal way.

If not todaytomorrow this will be the demand of the people and hence the growth of Agamism. The world is moving in that direction --  against regimentations, against collectivisation and against the standardisation of believe systems. 
 
What Agamism favours is INDIVIDUALISATION, allowing of PERSONAL religion, allowing each individual to be formed and informed in a way BEING chooses. It is a form of life where there is NO taking as the most authoritative a scripture or the words of a religious genius but rather BEING Himself to lead the individuals in his own way-- avaravar viti vazi and in a non collective but immensely personal manner. 
 
Hail to Nammaazvaar for articulating this essence of Agamism so eloquently.

Whether it is about a matter of our belief, assessment of a situation, or
view on an issue, we speak on the basis of the knowledge that we possess.
Our worldview results from our religion, readings, science, and everyday
experiences. It rests on our knowledge of things, persons, places, and all
the information we have received. Like the money in hand, we don't always
inquire into how we came upon the knowledge we possess, or into the validity
of its source. What we take for granted may be only flimsily valid on
rational grounds, or even downright incorrect. Yet, we feel comfortable with
it. A systematic inquiry into these is the branch of philosophy called
epistemology. Many controversies arise because people seldom examine the
bases of their knowledge and beliefs.
In the Western tradition, some ancient Greek and Roman thinkers, like
Empiricus and Seneca, examined the reliability of accepted truths The
skeptic Pyrrho's famous statement that "Nothing is certain, not even this
statement," is intended to convey the tentativeness of human knowledge. In
the West, a fresh impetus for epistemology came in the eighteenth century
from the writings of David Hume, Immanuel Kant, and John Locke.

In India, epistemology goes back to the Vedas, and to their philosophical
offshoots. Indian philosophers distinguished between what we come to know
through our senses (pratyaksha) and knowledge which is remote from the
senses (proksha). The first is empirical and rational knowledge. Everything
we learn from books, people, and teachers is of this type. It is called
apara-vidya. Such knowledge is about history and geography, art and
culture, and everything we ordinarily know. It is interesting and useful.

However, all apara-vidya relates to matters transitory and impermanent.
The other kind of knowledge is about that which never perishes. It tells us
about the essence of things. This is the knowledge that spiritual aspirants
seek, and many feel they acquire when they engage in prayer and meditation.
This type of knowledge is called para-vidya and is related to the spiritual
substratum of which mystics speak. It is said to be acquired through divine
testimony. One does not grasp para-vidya cerebrally. It is something that
one experiences and is deeply convinced about.

Para-knowledge corresponds to Gnosticism in the Western tradition, which is
also based on esoteric practices, and on the thesis that by these means the
human soul can pierce through the intervening opaque worlds. Like para,
Gnosticism strives to find our way back to our source. Thus, the para view
speaks of an unfathomable mystic undercurrent, of higher knowledge and
indescribable transcendence. As it says in the Mundaka Upanishad "That which
is ungraspable, without family, without caste, without sight or hearing,
without hands or feet, eternal, all-pervading, omnipresent, exceedingly
subtle, that is the undecaying which the wise perceive as the source of all
things."

This recognition of knowledge as belonging to two quite different categories
is an insight that can clarify a good deal of confusion. Hindu thinkers
understood that while it is possible to resolve intellectual disagreements
on certain kinds of issues, when it comes to knowledge about the
transcendent (para-vidya), no amount of logic or proof can be convincing or
incontrovertible. Ultimate mystery can only be revealed at the deepest
personal level. Its authenticity is to be apprehended rather than
comprehended, and it cannot be conveyed through words and reason.

Indian epistemologists also stated that we derive knowledge from four
different sources: First, we have codes of law (smriti) which give knowledge
about what is permitted and what is not. Then, we have the senses
(indriyas) which give us knowledge about the existence and properties of
things, such as that silk is soft, the sky is blue, there is music in the
air, the rose is fragrant and sugar is sweet. Then we have knowledge about
festivals, the days for fasting, and so on. This knowledge comes from
tradition or aitihya. Finally, when we know that it is going to rain because
there are dark clouds above, or that something must have happened to an
absentee who is normally there, we have inferential knowledge or anumna.

Treatises on Hindu epistemology are generally elaborations and modifications
of these basic concepts.

In the Mahabharata one character says that he sought a reason for everything
and had very little faith, that he used to utter words based on plausible
reason. He says that he had always been an unbeliever, skeptical of
everything, and though really ignorant, he used to be proud of his learning.
This suggests that reasoning, belief, faith, skepticism, and the like were
part of daily discourse in classical India. Examination of the reliability
of knowledge is an essential pre-requisite for science. This necessary
condition for science was clearly there in India. But it is not a sufficient
condition. Other factors, like the printing press, observational
instruments, measuring devices, and quantitative analyses of nature are also
needed for modern science to emerge. These were to come only later in
history.

V. V. Raman
November 9, 2005

The distinction between appearance and reality is an old philosophical puzzle. The Chinese philosopher's uncertainty about whether he is a man who dreamt he was a butterfly or a butterfly imagining itself to be a man encapsulates this puzzle. In the Hindu context, this is generalized in the
Shvetshvatara Upanishad: mayam tu prakritim viddhi: Know, however, that the world is maya.

The philosopher-saint Shankara elaborated on this idea. He stated that the Real is universal and indivisible in its totality. This thesis is called monism or non-duality (advaita). But the perceived world is
characterized by multiplicity rather than oneness. But how does the one appear as
many?

Shankara explained this by saying that the essence of ultimate reality is normally veiled from our grasp because of a number of constraining factors which are imposed on matter and mind through our senses. The result of these blinding factors is the creation of an illusory world of multiplicity to which normal human experience is invariably and inevitably subjected.

This appearance of distinctions between the many when they is in fact one and only one is known as maya, often translated as illusion. This is a key concept in Indic epistemology. Shankara's analysis has been
subjected to many commentaries and interpretations. Here I give my own reflections on this profound view.

In so far as maya is a veil that screens the true nature of reality, it is often regarded as something negative. In one of his popular song-poems, often sung very movingly, the saint-poet exhorts us to give up the thirst
for material possessions and to devote our minds to the Real, to accept the fruits of our karma, and not get drowned in delusions instigated by the passion and lust that come from the sight of a female body. A man's
life, he says, is as uncertain as rain drops on a lotus leaf. He reminds us that the
world is a prey to disease and grief.

Such a negative view of the experienced world prompts some people to reject
the world of appearance and look for the Real. It has been said that this negative attitude to of maya has often been over-stressed by Hindu religious exponents, leading to a devaluation of the world of experience. Life becomes irrelevant, misleading, and unworthy of concern in the larger context of spiritual pursuits. Some modern commentators have argued that this
is a misinterpretation of Shankara, and have insisted that Shankara's philosophy has had no negative impact at all on Hindu economic progress and scientific creativity.

In any case, one may also give an altogether different interpretation of the maya doctrine. Maya may be interpreted, not as a pessimistic appraisal of perceived reality, but rather as recognition of its intrinsic nature: Namely, that notwithstanding its appearance of being real and the ultimate,
what we take to be real is not so in fact. This is not unlike what modern science has revealed. Whether it is the sun's motion across the heavens, the colorful arc that spans the sky, or the solid matter we touch and feel: these are not quite what they seem to be. Their intrinsic nature is very different from the impressions they create. The thing to remember, and one that is ignored all too often, is that it does not follow that what is illusory is necessarily trivial, uninteresting, evil, or useless.

Whether through biological or cultural evolution, appearances which are not
faithful representations of the real, have turned out to be extremely valuable, useful, insightful, enriching, and even necessary in many instances. Maya has resulted in many passing insights and enjoyments which
may well be the reason why, evolutionarily speaking, they arose in the first place. Indeed, it turns out that not only are illusions inevitable in the context of everyday living, many significant elements of culture and civilization rest on grand illusions. Maya serves us very well in our
lives, and is at the root of many of our enjoyments, institutions, intellectual
exercises, and societal interactions. Certain aspects of maya have even helped us gain a deeper understanding (or visions of higher categories) of reality. Let us consider some of these.

Art is aesthetic maya. Literature is emotional maya. Democracy and communism
are political maya. Mythology is inspirational maya. Mathematics is logical
maya. History is patriotic maya. Religions are spiritual maya.

Philosophy is speculative maya. Science is fruitful maya. These are all maya in
the sense that on closer scrutiny they turn out to be only superficial truths.

It would seem that humanity is condemned to be in a world of maya.

But then, as a species we are condemned to many other constraints as well. The
recognition of this fact need not provoke a disdain or disrespect for life's experiences. Rather, it can cause a deeper experience of life.

Knowing that a work of art - whether a painting or a poem - is only a make- believe, need not diminish our appreciation of it. The maya concept seems to be a deep
insight into the nature of what we take to be the truth.

In 1905 Albert Einstein gave to the world his Special Theory of Relativity
which says that the result of any measurement of length, time interval or
mass will be relative to the reference system, i.e. it will depend on
whether what is measured is stationary or moving with respect to the
observer. This is of enormous significance in our understanding of the
world. One dramatic consequence of Einstein's theory is the mass-energy
equivalence, a result that is monstrously exemplified in nuclear explosions.
Many long centuries ago, Jain thinkers in India propounded a similar idea in
epistemology. I call this the Theory of Epistemic Relativity. According to
it, whatever knowledge we perceive as truth depends on our perspective,
i.e. it is relative to our observing system. No matter how objective we
think our appraisal of a truth is, ultimately there is the inevitable factor
of perspective, called naya. In short, every statement of truth is anchored
to a framework.

This profound insight of Jain thinkers flowed from the recognition that
reality is characterized by plurality or non-oneness (anekatva): Whatever we
consider has multiple facets. Consider, for example, the following: Is
technology good or bad? Should we negotiate or not with terrorists? Is a
particular religion the only true religion? In all such questions, there
will always be more than one answer, and in each instance the answer will
depend on the perspective of the person who answers it.

This doctrine is known as anekantavada, the not-one-doctrine. It arises from
two basic recognitions: one philosophical, and the other physical. The
philosophical insight is the duality of contradictory categories implicit in
many contexts, such as joy and sorrow, knowledge and ignorance, light and
darkness, which. are often attributes of the same entity. The physical
insight is that not only the world, but its components consist of countless
characteristics. Our reflection on any aspect of the world could focus on
one or another of these, and accordingly lead us to one or another
conclusion, as allegorized in the tale of the six blind men and the
elephant.

Anekantavada rejects absolutism. It becomes particularly relevant in issues
relating to the human condition, i.e. topics relating to history, religion,
philosophy, politics, and the like. In all these cases there is a
multiplicity concerning an issue.
Then again, quantum physics tells us that in the microcosm, we can never be
certain about the features of a quantum entity before a measurement is made.

Whether an electron is wave or particle will be determined only after it is
observed. This is known as Heisenberg's uncertainty principle. A similar
metaphysical uncertainty principle was stated by Jain thinkers. They said,
in effect, that when it comes to ultimate questions, such as whether there
is a God or not, whether there is extra-corporeal consciousness or not, the
best that one can say is that it is perhaps the case and perhaps not, until
one has the actual experience. This principle is known as sy?v? or the
maybe-doctrine.

These ideas received many extensions and interpretations. But their simple
essence is that one cannot claim one's own vision of anything as embodying
the total or the absolute truth. These ideas are not just theoretically
interesting but become important and essential in discussions of political,
moral, social, and religious issues. We have to bear in mind that our claims
and assertions in these contexts are relative to our perspectives. This
ancient Indic idea is sometimes touted as a great new insight of
post-modernism by some Western thinkers.

It is important to understand that anekantavada does not imply that any and
every belief counts or that one should attach equal weight to every dogma or
doctrine. It merely reminds us that no matter what view one holds on
controversial issues, that view is a function of the perspective from which
one considers the issue. Thus, if we ask the question, "Does God exists?"
some might say Yes, and some No, because not everyone comes to the issue
from the same perspective. Or again, some would say that Jesus is the only
Savior, others that Allah is the only God, yet others that Vishnu is the
Supreme God, and so on. Each person is right from his or her own
perspective.

Niels Bohr once said, there are two kinds of truths: the small ones and the
great ones. A small truth is one whose opposite is false. That milk is white
is true; that it is black is clearly false. But a great truth is one whose
opposite could also be true, as in the matter about whether democracy is the
best form of government, or whether technology is good for humanity, or
whether scientific knowledge is good for faith.
These Jain insights are the very opposite of true-believerism which upholds
one particular perspective as absolute to be accepted by or enforced on
all. True-believerism is at the root of ideological bigotry, religious,
political, and nationalistic. People embracing anek?av? are not likely
to be as intolerant or virulent as those who have not awakened to its truth.

Introduction - Part 1

One of the most distinctive doctrines of modern Vedanta, expressed in
the teachings of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa and the works of Swami
Vivekananda, as well as the writings of numerous other representatives
of the contemporary Vedantic tradition, is its doctrine of the harmony
of religions. Although it has its roots in the ancient Vedic teaching
that, Eka?vipra bahudha vadanti¨Reality is one, though the wise
speak of it variously.?(Rig Veda 1.164: 46c), such a pluralistic
vision is not as pronounced in the works of the traditional Vedantic
acaryas as it is in modern or "Neo" Vedanta. The traditional forms of
Vedanta, such as Advaita, Vishishtadvaita, Dvaita, and others, seem far
more concerned with establishing their own views and refuting those of
others than with arguing that there is some truth in all positions.

In this paper, I will argue that the modern Vedantic emphasis on the
harmony of religious and philosophical views is anticipated in the
Indic traditions not so much in the traditional Vedantic schools of
thought as in the Jaina tradition. Specifically, the Jain doctrines of
the multiplicity and relativity of perspectives, anekantavada,
nayavada, and syadvada, will be shown to exhibit a view of reality and
an attitude toward religious and philosophical diversity very much in
keeping with a modern Vedantic understanding of the harmony of
religions.

In terms of my own orientation to these issues, I come to these
questions as one who follows the tradition of Ramakrishna and
Vivekananda and supports its doctrine of religious pluralism. At the
same time, I am conscious of recent legitimate criticisms of this
position. My search has been for resources from within the Indic
traditions by which pluralism can be defended, and my conclusion is
that Jainism is promising in this regard.

Modern Vedanta, Its Orientation toward Religious Diversity, and Its Critics

When I say "modern Vedanta" I am referring specifically to the
tradition that traces itself to the life and teachings of Sri
Ramakrishna Paramahamsa and that is carried forward by the order of
monks, nuns, and lay supporters making up the organization known in
India as the Ramakrishna Mission and in the West as the Vedanta
Society. But more broadly, I would also take it as legitimate to
include within this expression thinkers who have been demonstrably
influenced by this tradition, like Mahatma Gandhi and S. Radhakrishnan
in India and Aldous Huxley and Huston Smith in the West.

The chief distinction between modern Vedanta and more traditional
forms, such as Advaita, Vishishtadvaita, and Dvaita, is the emphasis
which modern Vedanta places on direct experience?r anubhava?s the
ultimate source of spiritual authority. In modern Vedanta, the Veda is
conceived as the record of the experiences of the enlightened sages, or
rishis, and its authority to have only a provisional nature, acting as
a guide to the nature of ultimate reality, a guide no longer needed
after one experiences nirvikalpa samadhi through the practice of one or
more of the four yogas: karma yoga, jñana yoga, bhakti yoga, and raja
yoga. As Anantanand Rambachan has pointed out in 'Accomplishing the
Accomplished and The Limits of Scripture', this is quite distinct from
the traditional view that the Veda is an independent and sufficient
prama?r basis for the knowledge, or jñana, that leads to?nd indeed
constitutes?iberation, at least according to an Advaitic understanding
of moks?. One might say that, for modern Vedanta, experience confirms
the truth of the Veda, whereas for traditional forms of Vedanta, the
Veda confirms the truth that is, the veridical nature of experience.

Another important distinction between modern Vedanta and the
traditional forms of Vedanta is that modern Vedanta conceives of itself
as a synthesis or summation of all earlier forms, seeing Dvaita,
Vishishtadvaita, and Advaita, for example, as corresponding to specific
stages of spiritual evolution toward the goal of moksha. Both of these
aspects of modern Vedanta are significant when analyzing its doctrine
of religious pluralism.

Modern Vedantic religious pluralism has been famously expressed, using
a wide variety of vivid metaphors, by Ramakrishna, the founding figure
of this tradition, who is widely known for such statements as, "I have
practiced all religions£rinduism, Islam, Christianity and I have also
followed the paths of the different Hindu sects. I have found that it
is the same God toward whom all are directing their steps, though along
different paths he who is called Krishna is also called Siva, and bears
the name of the Primal Energy, Jesus, and Allah as well the same Rama
with a thousand names god can be realised through all paths. All
religions are true. The important thing is to reach the roof. You can
reach it by stone stairs or by wooden stairs or by bamboo steps or by a
rope it is not good to feel that one's religion alone is true and all
others are false. God is one only and not two. Different people call
him by different names: some as Allah, some as God, and others as
Krishna, Shiva, and Brahman. It is like water in a lake. Some drink
it at one place and call it ?al,?others at another place and call it
pani, and still others at a third place and call it water. The
Hindus call it ?al,?the Christians water, and the Mussulmans
?ani.?But it is one and the same thing. Opinions are but paths.

Each religion is only a path leading to God, as rivers come from
different directions and ultimately become one in the one ocean all
religions and all paths call upon their followers to pray to one and
the same God. Therefore one should not show disrespect to any religion
or religious opinion." (Nikhilananda 1942: 60, Richards 1985: 65)
Mahatma Gandhi similarly writes, "Religions are different roads
converging upon the same point. What does it matter that we take
different roads so long as we reach the same goal? In reality there
are as many religions as there are individuals, all believe in the
fundamental truth of all great religions of the world. I believe that
they are all God-given, and I believe that they were necessary for the
people to whom these religions were revealed. And I believe that, if
only we could all of us read the scriptures of different faiths from
the standpoint of the followers of those faiths we should find that
they were at bottom all one and were all helpful to one another."
(Ibid, 156, 157)

Such views are so central to and so widely associated with modern
Vedanta, and modern Vedanta, in turn, is so often the medium through
which Hinduism is expressed, particularly to Western audiences, that
religious pluralism has come to be held by many, both Hindu and
non-Hindu, as the Hindu view of religious diversity, and even as the
most distinctively Hindu of beliefs, serving to contrast Hinduism with
proselytizing traditions that often insist upon the exclusive truth and
salvific efficacy of their own revelation. If I may add a personal
note, it was also this very view that was one of the things that I
found most attractive about the Hindu tradition, and which drew me to
its study and practice.

Recently, though, this view has come under considerable attack from
within the Hindu tradition due to certain detrimental effects it is
held to have had on the community over the course of the last century.
The idea that "all religions are the same" is not only demonstrably
false; but it also leads to a certain kind of intellectual laziness and
disregard for what is distinctive about one's own traditions. Many of
today's Hindus, it is claimed, are unaware of the vast riches of their
own tradition in part because the idea of "radical universalism"?s one
critic, Frank Morales, has called it has led to a watering down of a
sense of Hindu distinctiveness. Moreover, this is seen to make Hindus
more vulnerable to unscrupulous conversion efforts on the part of
communities that are far more conscious of their own distinctiveness,
and far more aggressive in promoting their own ideals than are the
Hindus, who follow a doctrine of "live and let live" regarding
religious difference precisely because of the modern Vedantic doctrine
of religious pluralism. Because of the perceived vulnerability to
conversion that radical universalism is seen to create, there are
critics who go even further and claim there is a Christian conspiracy
at work, pointing to the influence of Unitarianism on Swami Vivekananda
(via his earlier involvement, prior to meeting Ramakrishna, in the
Brahmo Samaj).

One response to such criticism, of course, is that it misses the mark.
The claim of modern Vedanta is not that "all religions are the same."
To again cite Gandhi, "Religions are different roads converging upon
the same point." Difference is acknowledged.

It is also odd to see pluralism as an idea that Christian missionaries
would want to promote. If Hindus include pictures of Jesus Christ and
his mother in their home altars, is this an indication that they are
becoming Christian? Or is it a distinctively Hindu kind of religious
act, which many Christians would find deeply offensive? If anything,
pluralism would appear to stem the tide of conversion. In response to
the evangelical claim that the Hindu has not yet "found Jesus," the
Hindu can reply, "Of course I have. He's right here in my home altar
with Lord Vishnu, Lord Shiva, and Ma Kali. I have them all. Do you?"

I am also inclined to see the spread of religious pluralism among
liberal Christian intellectuals like John Hick and David Ray Griffin as
a Hinduization of Christianity, as more conservative Christians have
charged, rather than seeing its promulgation within the Hindu community
as a Christianization of Hinduism. Clearly influence can move in both
directions. While there is historical truth in the claim that
Vivekananda probably was influenced by Unitarianism, three further
facts need to be noted. First, Unitarianism is hardly an evangelical
form of Christianity. Many would claim it is not even Christian,
because of its rejection of the central doctrine of the Trinity, and
many Unitarians today do not regard themselves as Christian at all.

Indeed, some regard themselves as Pagans or as Buddhists. Secondly, by
far the most influential Unitarian thinker of the nineteenth century,
Ralph Waldo Emerson, was heavily influenced by Hinduism, an influence
which led directly to the transcendentalist movement in America which
included such figures as Henry David Thoreau who, in turn, influenced
Mahatma Gandhi. Finally, Ramakrishna, the true fountainhead of modern
Vedanta was very unlikely to have been influenced by Unitarians at all.
His interactions with the Brahmo Samaj happened relatively late in his
life, after the famous period of his sadhanas, during which he
developed his ideas about pluralism on the basis of having experienced
the same samadhi as a result of following the practices of a wide
variety of Hindu traditions, plus Christianity and Islam. It is upon
the direct realization experiences of Ramakrishna, arrived at through a
variety of means, that modern Vedanta bases its doctrine of religious
pluralism.

Dr. Jeffery D. Long
Assistant Professor of Religious Studies
Elizabethtown College
Elizabethtown, PA 17022

Phone: 717-361-1507
Fax: 717-361-1390
E-mail: LongJD@...

If the point of the criticism, however, is that religious pluralism, or
universalism, has been misunderstood as saying that "all religions are
the same," and that this view has had the detrimental effect that its
critics charge, then I must agree with them. But unlike the critics of
religious pluralism, I take this to mean not that we must reject
pluralism as a foreign growth within the body of Hinduism, but that we
must very carefully re-articulate this idea in a way that will not
produce such misunderstandings or negative effects. Such is the larger
project behind this paper.

Traditional Precedents for Modern Vedantic Religious Pluralism

The charge that modern Vedantic religious pluralism is a foreign
import, an effect of the influence of the West on nineteenth and
twentieth century Hindu thought, while having some validity, disregards
the degree to which pluralism has been an undercurrent of the Hindu
tradition since the period of the Rig Veda. I have already cited the
famous Vedic statement that reality is one, though the wise speak of
it variously. There is also the statement of the Bhagavad Gita: Ye
yatha mam prapadyante tamstathaiva bhajamyaham, mama vartmanuvartante
manushyaha, Partha, sarvashaha, Ò human beings approach me, so I
receive them. All paths, Partha, lead to me. (Bhagavad-G?4:11)
Many pluralistic statements of this kind are scattered throughout the
sruti and smr iti literature. And there are, of course, the many
pluralistic assertions from the medieval period of such figures as
Kabir and Guru Nanak, claiming, in anticipation of Sri Ramakrishna and
Gandhi, that the path one takes or the name one chants is of less
consequence than the sincerity of one's devotion to one's chosen ideal,
and that it is this devotion which leads to liberation.

The need of the hour, however, is not a list of quotations from the
Hindu tradition that affirm the validity of many paths to a common
goal. The need is for a logical and systematic argument for pluralism
as an entailment of an internally coherent, compelling worldview that
can address the range of possible objections to religious pluralism,
such as the question of how many traditions which make substantially
different claims can all be seen to lead to the same end preferably, an
argument rooted in the Indic traditions.
If one looks to traditional forms of Vedanta, however and this lends
credence to the anti-pluralist side of the current discussion one does
not find, despite the pluralistic sentiments one finds expressed in a
variety of places in the Vedic literature, a systematic argument for
pluralism of the kind affirmed in modern Vedanta. To be sure, one
finds, in Shankara's Advaita and the Smarta tradition with which it is
affiliated, the idea that there are many possible ishtadevatas toward
which one may direct bhakti for the sake of mental purification,
preparatory to the jñana that is provided by the Veda, the shabda
pramana. It is possible that from the practice of pañcayatana puja, or
worship of the devatas Ganesha, Shiva, Shakti, Vishnu, and Surya, there
emerged the practice of incorporating the deities of many religions
into one's worship, offering bhakti not only to the Vedic deities, but
to the Buddha, Jesus Christ, and others as well.

But one does not find in Advaita Vedanta, as traditionally conceived,
the idea that all paths to realization are equally adequate. There is
finally one realization that leads to moksa and one valid prama?r
realizing it. There is also one paramartha satya, one ultimate truth,
and that is that nirguna brahman is the sole reality, all else being
illusion, or maya.

This is in sharp contrast with the Vishishtadvaita of Ramanuja
according to which Ishvara and the world are real, the ultimate unity
which they form brahman being organic in nature, and Ishvara and the
world bearing a relationship to one another analogous to that of soul
and body, jiva and sharira, respectively. And this, in turn, is in
contrast with the Dvaita of Madhva, for whom distinctness, not unity,
is of central significance, and for whom the difference between
Ishvara specifically Visisadvaitand the individuals in the world is of
paramount importance, being indispensable for bhakti, which has the
importance in the systems of both Ramanuja and Madhva that jñana does
in that of Shankara. This is a far cry from Swami Vivekananda's
affirmations about the equally valid and efficacious character of the
karma, jñana, bhakti, and raja yogas. Each thinker has a distinctive
view that he regards as true and to which he goes to great lengths to
defend from the others.

Jainism: Candidate for a Traditional Indic Systematic Defense of Pluralism

A systematic argument for a pluralistic worldview is not, however,
altogether lacking in the traditional Indic darsanas. It is my
contention that the closest thing to the modern Vedantic form of
religious pluralism in the Indic tradition and the best candidate in
the Indic tradition for a systematic worldview that can ground modern
Vedantic claims in this regard is the Jain doctrine of multiplicity, or
anekantavada, with its corollaries, the doctrine of perspectives, or
nayavada, and the doctrine of conditional predication, or syadvada.
According to anekantavada, reality is complex. It has many facets
characterized by qualities that are of a seemingly contrary nature.
There is that in reality which persists and is continuous over time.

It is this which makes possible notions such as identity and substance.
There is also that in reality which is impermanent and changeable,
giving rise to such notions as time and process. From the Jain
perspective, an adequate account of reality is one which dismisses
neither of these aspects as illusory, but which integrates both into a
holistic worldview. The most obvious objects of critique here are
Advaita Vedanta, which affirms that nirguna brahman alone is real and
that all else false that is subject to change is an illusion, and
Buddhism, which affirms that impermanence is the ultimate reality and
that all sense of self or personal identity over time is an illusion.

From a Jain perspective, these views both exhibit the fallacy of
ekantata one-sidedness, or failing to take into account the contrary
point of view. The truth of any claim, according to the Jain
tradition, is dependent upon the perspective, or naya, from which one
makes that claim. Advaitins are correct syat that is, in a certain
sense, or from a certain point of view then they affirm the reality of
the changeless and eternal sat-chit-ananda. Buddhists are also correct
syat in a certain sense, or from a certain point of view then they
affirm the reality of impermanence. In other words, a fundamental
truth about the universe undergirds both perspectives and the spiritual
practices that are based upon them. They are only false inasmuch as
each excludes the other.

This Jain approach to the multiplicity of religious and philosophical
perspectives is strikingly similar to, and in harmony with, claims that
one finds in numerous places in the teachings of Ramakrishna that the
relative universe of change, in which the difference between devotee
and devata obtains and bhakti yoga is the surest path to liberation,
and the absolute of the Advaitic path of the Brahmajñani, are equally
real, that these are only different, but equally valid, ways of
conceiving reality, thus making the spiritual practices based upon them
equally valid paths to realization. To be sure, there are tendencies
in the teachings of Ramakrishna and more so in the writings of
Vivekananda?o subordinate the Dvaitic to the Advaitic, the relative to
the absolute. But Ramakrishna is not always consistent about this, and
his devotion to the Divine Mother is such that it is hard to think of
him as a pure Advaitin. I am not saying that Ramakrishna was
influenced by Jainism. I suspect the direct influence of Jainism on
Ramakrishna's thought was minimal, if not non-existent. But I believe
that if one seeks to translate Ramakrishna's understanding of reality
as it bears on religious pluralism into a systematic philosophy in a
traditional Indic idiom, one would come up with something very much
like anekantavada.

One difficulty which modern Vedanta faces with regard to any attempt
to include this elegant Jain system of logic into its worldview in
defense of its doctrine of religious pluralism is the fact that the
more traditional forms of Vedanta were not only not always pluralistic,
but that the acaryas of all the major schools explicitly rejected the
Jain view in their commentaries on Badarayana's Brahma Sutra. If,
however, one examines their reasons for doing so, one finds that they
have consistently mischaracterized the Jain view as being that contrary
predications can be made of an entity in the same sense and at the same
time, in violation of the law of non-contradiction. This, however, is
not what the Jains say. The Jains, rather, are quite explicit in
claiming that a condition for affirming the truth of contrary
predications is specification with regard to time, location, etc. with
regard to the quality in question. The traditional Vedantic rejections
of anekantavada, like contemporary critiques of pluralism, suffer from
the defect of missing the mark.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I would argue that if modern Vedantins in the tradition
of Ramakrishna wish to defend the doctrine of religious pluralism from
criticisms either of its internal incoherence or its inconsistency with
more basic Vedantic claims, then we would do well to adopt some version
of anekantavada into our discourse. Anekantavada can ground the claim
of modern Vedanta to contain all of the essential truths of the
traditional forms of Vedanta, such as Advaita, Dvaita, and
Vishishtadvaita, by specifying the dimensions of the larger reality
with which these more traditional forms are concerned. By seeing all
these dimensions as aspects of one larger holistic reality, the claim
that all the varied spiritual paths based on each of these systems of
thought are equally efficacious can be grounded.

I think, however, that the traditional form of Vedanta that resembles
the total view of reality affirmed by modern Vedanta the most is
Ramanuja's Vishishtadvaita. This may be a surprising claim, given the
overwhelming tendency of most modern practitioners of Vedanta to
identify themselves as Advaitins. But my suggestion is not that all
modern Vedantins must identify themselves as Vishishtadvaitins. It is,
rather, that one can be an Advaitin if one likes or a Vishishtadvaitin
or a Dvaitin, or, for that matter, a Christian or a Buddhist or a
Muslim. But what it means to locate oneself in Ramakrishna's
tradition, with its pluralistic claims, is that one sees one's chosen
spiritual path, whatever it may be, as taking place within a much
larger context best described not by one tradition alone, but by the
sum total of all. The fact that this sum total just happens to
resemble Ramanuja's Vishishtadvaita does not invalidate any other path.

Nor would it be valid to infer that a Vishishtadvaitin, simply by
virtue of being a Vishishtadvaitin, is further along the path to the
ultimate goal.

The hope ultimately driving such a project the project of
incorporating anekanta-vada into the worldview of the Ramakrishna
tradition is that it can address objections to religious pluralism with
a logical rigor heretofore unavailable to it, and that it can do so by
drawing upon resources within the Indic tradition.

Dr. Jeffery D. Long
Assistant Professor of Religious Studies
Elizabethtown College
Elizabethtown, PA 17022

That was an informative post by Dr. Long, noble in its aim and
exemplary of Hindu dharma. One cannot find any fault in it.

On a separate tangential issue, and its not a critique of that post,
most of the Hindu scholars in the 20th century have been trying to
evolve a 'grand unified field theory of metaphysics', much like the
Stephen Hawkins' hopelessly slipping holy grail chase to uncover a
theory that unifies quantum and stellar physics.

Even this is not new. The propounders of the shad dharsanas too tried
to codify the indic teachings into tight philosophies but in the end
all those schools collapsed leaving vedanta. Then the vedanta schools
gave rise to several philosophies, but each one deconstructed the
other. Then the Meykandar siddhanta school of the 12th century
deconstructed all of the earliers schools, and it stands unchallenged
today.

Most Hindus do not realise that philosophies such as advaita,
visisadvaita, dvaita, etc have all been deconstructed and that these
deconstructions have not been deconstructed for 800 years. Only one
philosophy stands today in Hinduism. What has been deconstructed
cannot be part of the grand unified theory, or modified anekantavada.

Yet many Hindus still cherish and follow these various theories,
partly due to ignorance, and partly due to faith in it. But to hear
Hindus acharyas speak of these defunct theories is like hearing a
professor still teaching Dalton's Theory and Alchemy, completely
oblivious to the developments of quantum mechanics.

Dont get me wrong; I do NOT believe in the rationalist and
pluralistic Meykandar school of thought. To me personal revelations
and experiential knowledge is above any veda or rationale, it is
syadvada, and I am a monistic theist. This puts me outside any school
of thought and therefore not susceptible to deconstruction.

And not that the Meykandar school is right; it simply stands by
default. Since all else has been deconstructed, what is left must be
right, right? I dont agree with this.

Needless to say, jain, buddhist and carvaka philosophies too were
deconstructed.

There is another obstacle; these siddhanta systems have classified
religions and philosophies as agach chamayam(inner) which includes
the Hindu sects, agap pura chamayam (outer) which includes buddhist,
jainism and sikhism and finally pura chamayams (alien) which includes
christianity, islam as well as primal and minor diety worship. This
classification has basis in the teachings of the bakti saints,
considered shruti. It will be hard to overcome this.

I may have missed the mark too. I just gave it a shot though.

Regards.

Pathma

The impressions of superficial European observers of India of the 17th and
18th centuries were often not very positive. True, after the discovery of
Sanskrit, Kalidasa, the Gita and the Upanishads, some European thinkers
were inspired by the lofty thoughts these works contain. However, most
Westerners found the beliefs, worship-modes and life-style of the Indian
people to be so different from what they were accustomed to that they
imagined that the Hindoos (as we were called) were really a backward lot.

In fairness, and without condoning their ignorance and insolence, it may be
noted that a good many people from India, even in our own times, form a
great many deprecatory, condescending, and distorted opinions about Western
culture and civilization which they judge from the trivialities and trash
that they see on TV screens and daily news.

In any case, there is still a widespread belief that prior to the advent of
the British, Indians were really relatively unsophisticated. One reason for
this impression is that after the industrial revolution, technological
advances and gadget-inventions accelerated in the West, and in terms of
creature comforts available to the average citizen, the West does seem more
advanced. There are at least two reasons for this: First, a knowledge of
modern physics (electro-magnetism) and chemistry (properties of materials)
is essential for efficient energy-converting systems which are at the root
of modern technology. Secondly, the Asian and African colonies of Europe
provided vast amounts of capital for Britain and Europe.

Even if one were to argue that India benefited in a number of ways (trains,
roads, modern universities, liberation from Islamic potentates, etc.) as a
result of her contact with the British, the financial price the country paid
for all this, let alone the cultural marginalization, was horrendous: The
resulting monetary loss transformed one of the richest and most productive
countries in the 18th century into a poor nation by 1947. When the British
left India, her wealth had been drastically and systematically drained to
fatten the coffers of the "mother country."

Many historians have laid bare all these sordid facts. In particular the
scholar-historian Dharampal has written extensively on this, and about
science and technology in India prior to the advent of the British. He
exposed the economic plunder that India suffered during its colonial period.
More importantly, he delved into the reports and records of by-gone years
which are still in the archives of British museums and libraries, and which
reveal many aspects of Indian technology in the 18th century. For example:
J. Z. Holwell wrote in 1767 that "Inoculation is performed in Indostan by a
particular tribe of Bramins, who are delegated annually for this service
from the different Colleges of Bindoobund, Eleabas, Banaras, &c. over all
the distant provinces; dividing themselves into small parties . They plan
their traveling circuits in such wise as to arrive at the places of their
respective destination some weeks before the return of the disease."

In 1774, Lt. Col Ironside gave a detailed description of how one
manufactured paper in India: "The manufacturer purchases old ropes, cloths,
and nets, made from the sun plant, and cuts them into small pieces,
macetates them in water, for a few days, generally five, washes them in the
river in a basket, and throws them into a jar of water lodged in the ground;
the water is strongly impregnated with a lixivium of sedgimutti (an earth
containing a large portions of fossil alkali) six parts and quick lime seven
parts ."

Capt. Thos Halcott, writing on the Drill Husbandry in South India, observed
(1795) "Until lately I imagined the drill plough to be a modern European
invention; a short time ago, riding over a field, I observed a drill plough
at work, very simple in its construction, which . I find it in general use
here, and has been so since time immemorial."
In 1795 Benjamin Heyne, writing on Iron Works in Ramanakapettah, quotes
Captain Presgrave who described bar iron made in India as "of most excellent
quality, possessing all the desirable properties of malleability, ductility
at different temperatures and of tenacity for all of which I think it cannot
be surpassed by the best Swedish iron."

In 1820 Alexander Walker wrote: "They (Hindoos) have been long in possession
of one of the most beautiful and useful inventions in agriculture. They have
a variety of implements for husbandry purposes, some of which have been
introduced into England in the course of our recent improvements. They clean
their fields by howing and hand weeding; they have weeding ploughs, which
root out and extirpate the weeds."

These are just some examples. By a sad subversion of perspectives, the high
opinions of at least some European observers of Indian science and
technology during the 18th century were slowly transformed in the course of
the 19th century into a dismal picture. One reason could have been that as a
result of European onslaught, technology declined in India during this time.

Perhaps another was that the interest of Western scholars shifted from
technology to philosophy in India.
In any case, a people's self-image is formed by the reading of history.

History can make us feel good or otherwise, depending on which aspects of
the past one focuses on.