The mishap leads to a rise of systemic survival instinct, missing thus far in the “new”. They had probably presumed the survival was ensured by the “old”. At the prospect of baton being passed to them, the “new” now realizes their “struggle” was never for the good or bad (of the society), it was for them(selves) - to understand “who they are”. Their situation is different from their olds. Their new ideas are not a solution for the old(er) problems, they are the plumbing for the new order. They must account for the stability of the new regime.

This new incarnation of “self” is the evolution. The survivor ¹ wins and only the fittest (among all the possibilities) survives. Since altruistic behaviour normally leads to formation of larger subset(s), it appears they form “fitter” outfits, but it’s not a rule. Fitness of organization normally depends on its ability to drive rational unforced consensus.

All the possible configurations (of the ideas, behaviours and leadership styles), including those with apparently altruistic motives, must fight ² to find the one that survives against all odds. The fight may happen in a physical field, on the ballot box , stock market or on the resilience of their currency, the goal is always to find a winner and to recast their motivations. The crowning is a “rebirth” - and must they reincarnate (Punrjanm) with their own provisions of recovery (and reboot).

Punrjanm ..

Aging Bramhrishi, with his sons lost, found hope in grandson Parāśara. Legend says Parāśara showed tremendous intelligence right from the early days. Exaggerations claim he recited hymns in his mother’s womb! That said, Vaśiṣṭha had little hope elsewhere. As Parāśara was growing, Vaśiṣṭha rebuilt the congregation ground-up. New students, new methods of teaching. This time he wanted to scribe the scriptures to safeguard against another similar catastrophe. But his immediate goal was to recover from the disaster.

Young Parāśara had the advantage of full attention of his grandfather though life for him was harder than previous generations (and other student). He was expected to scribe in addition to speech training. Scribing (in early Devnagri) was an optional that only few used to take after completing their normal course - at the age of twenty plus. Their goal - to find a job of scribe in king’s court or a wealthy patron - to send pigeons or to maintain the accounts of the cattle and precious barter deals. The number system was in place during the vocal times - as early as Ramayana ³. It appears that the text for number system developed before the idea of scribing a narrative in long form. Vaśiṣṭha wanted Parāśara to learn calligraphy simultaneously as he learnt to speak - somewhat like our education system where we start with “A for Apple”.

We show our younger ones a written symbol of letter “A” together with a picture of “Apple”, and have them speak both the symbol and the object. The knowledge of written symbols starts long before a child actually holds a pen. We create an association of a specific sound with a selected text - “A” is a sound as well as a written symbol. They are reflection of each other. A sound with its written reflection is the most granular unit of our information store - its like a token that we feed to our own AGI. Despite tremendous advances in our learning systems, this fundamental association stayed unchanged. Associations may be different in different languages, but there is always a sound and a symbol of text.

The most crucial phase of education, is a child’s first exposure to the spoken words. The Sanskaras (the core orientations), are said to be formed at this stage. In Hindu mythology, it is a common belief that a child can listen through her mother in the womb. That is one reason, mother is considered the first teacher and mother tongue is considered the language of thought.

The formation of “core orientations” with nascent spoken words is as old as the human race. Adding a twist of “written text” in this core training model was first explored by Vaśiṣṭha. This is what excited him in his rebooted reality for this small change had immense potential.

In last hundred years, education has seen tremendous growth. The modern systems of schools and online platforms have come a long way, but most of their innovations deal with grownups. Despite thousands of years, the first and fundamental learning steps are almost unaltered from what Vaśiṣṭha envisaged for Parāśara. We might use an iPad to show our toddlers the picture, sound and text; but it is still A for Apple - a written symbol and a sound simultaneously associating with a real world object. This model is at the core of training massive neural networks that we carry in our brains. The good thing is we train our children at a slow pace - one word at a time; while we try to do so with AI rather quickly. That is probably the reason LLM training is energy intensive.

2.1

Despite this path-breaking idea, Bramhrishi stayed humble for what he invented was only an “adaptation” - not an original idea. It was inspired from the conception of “music”. In music, a note is identified with a name - “Sa Re Ga Ma” or “Do Re Me Sa” are nothing but the spoken names for seven eternal sounds. In Hindu mythology, music and dance (as fundamental art forms) were created by Siva. On the same lines, Vasishtha named the written symbols. However, he went a step further - unlike music which was an (optional) hobby and remains same to date, he added the idea of text into Sanskaras - the first learning steps - a change in the core training model for human mind. Arguably, a single human brain has much larger numbers of synapses ⁴ than popular AI based language models! The comparison may not be apple to apple, but the point here is to showcase the importance of Sanskaras. What we learn in early childhood, grows to become who we are because most of the human neurons are fully formed at our birth - all 100 billion ⁵ of them. And we crate most of the neural connections during early childhood. This is one reason the family name was of utmost importance in Vaidik period. It was called Gotra. The observation must have been that if a child continued to follow the skills of parents - as determined by their Gotra - they reach higher degree of acumen. Vaśiṣṭha too is a family name.

The grandfather used to take the budding child to the river Yamuna for a daily bath. He often drew the symbols on the sandy banks, with a stick, and had Parāśara guess the letters. Parāśara often complained when the mighty river wiped off the text with its treacherous waves. Vaśiṣṭha, the all aware, keeper of the knowledge, used to smile wondering one day these written symbols would be indestructible like the knowledge itself. It is probably why the written word is called Akshra (immutable) in Sanskrit!

Vaśiṣṭha had no clue how scribing the entire knowledge base would fructify for Devnagari back then supported only eight ⁶ rudimentary sounds, just enough to send cryptic pigeon messages. He knew more symbols were needed if the intent of scripture was to be meaningfully conveyed, but he also knew a mighty ocean started with a single droplet. His aspiration was to see Parāśara as first child natively raised with speech and scribing hand in hand. He probably wanted to understand if it was even possible? And if it were, then what is the effect on child’s approach to learning?

He sure knew if he could train one child for the written word, then at some point, everyone would follow the suit. And if everyone knew writing, then writing all the shruties⁷ would be an easy effort shared across the cohort. Not only an easy shared effort, it will also ensure location decentralization. If scriptures were written at distant places, it would be impossible to destroy them. Instead of transcribing “knowledge” on temple walls, he wanted to enable all humans to transcribe. Empowering people through “speak and scribe” (Akshar Gyaan) - he saw - as an insurance against similar disasters! This idea - as ordinary it may sound today - was the genesis of civilized world - a fork from the old rules of jungle. It was by design permission less and intended to resist censor.

2.2

A typical path for aspiring students (Vidyarathi) seeking a degree in the authentic “recital” of scriptures (Shaastras) was to join a congregation (Ashrama), on a full-time live-in basis. Life in an Ashrama was tough. Students were expected to follow a tight celibate routine, full of chores and services. Before they got to the lessons, they must prove themselves worthy of the knowledge. Then only they would make it to the choir. Menial tasks were considered mandatory to mellow down (or even eradicate) exaggerated notions of being special - to enable them be one with the all-pervading Bramh - the universal reflection of self. The wealth of congregation didn’t make it any easier for the students, because the wealth was a gift of deities to augment the research. Even Parāśara didn’t get a free pass when it came to the rigor. Quite the opposite — he had to double up.

Completion of eight years long recital was celebrated with formal degrees, though it was just the beginning of a lifelong learning process. Degree holders were called Snataka. They needed to go through rigorous years of apprenticeship with a teacher Aacharya to get certified in administering ‘rites’, when they were commenced as a Shastri — someone who knew scriptures. At that stage, they could leave to spread the rites in the villages near or the cities afar, or become an Aacharya (a teacher) in the congregation. The choice was based on their inclination and the rigor they wanted to put in. Being a teacher needed lot more studies while a rites’ maker could start living a normal life of abundance immediately. Only few Aacharyas with demonstrable authority on all the known scriptures would get to the coveted title of Vyasa. In nutshell, there was a whole organization to moderate, curate and to disseminate the audio content — to make sure the knowledge was passed-on (without distortion), to seekers in current generation, and the next.

There was another path available to the students if recital wasn’t their first choice — research — seeking knowledge (Nyana). This path demanded lot more patience and even greater sacrifice! If someone was keen to take on research, after graduating as a Snataka, s/he would choose a major in a specific field. The hard work on this path was called Sadhna meaning extreme focus on a specific goal (Sadhya). One who accomplished her goal was called Sidhah.

This path led to titles such as Rishi — a sage; and Maharishi — a super sage. These titles were given by a community of researchers based on the body of work or the insights one brought to the world — a complete meritocracy without any consideration of gender or race. The spoken insights of such sages were adapted into ‘rites’ by Vyasas — to disseminate, and to preserve the knowledge. Rites were a foolproof method to embed these insights into public discourse.

Rites were conducted to invoke natural powers of the elements through human intelligence. For example, metallurgy was outcome of such rites, an invocation of power of elemental earth and fire. Agriculture was outcome of earth and water put together with specific human rigor. In essence a rite was a laid down controlled procedure that led to a specific outcome. Given the rudimentary level of knowledge, many things could go wrong. There were many unknowns because knowledge had yet not turned into hard “engineering”. All the unknowns in a specific endeavour were humbly acquitted to respective ‘deity’ , to dispel uncertainty. It became customary to worship the early inventors to enhance the chances of success. Or to reduce the chances of mishaps. In a way, the faith in a ‘deity’ was nothing more than hoping for the best outcomes. Hope remains a powerful driver to this date. Human journey is a journey of hope.

2.3

A derivative rite known as Dravya Yazna was particularly popular among the rich and the powerful. Instead of rendering the rigor of the “hundred skills”, it focused on honouring the deities. It entailed sharing homage and chanting mantras to invoke the deities, in return of speculative material gains. Drvya in Sanskrit, means material. Thus, Drvya Yazna literally meant the rites performed for good-luck material gains. For example, a rite performed for more rain (by appeasing Indra the deity of rains) was a type of Drvya Yazna. So was a rite performed to seal a wedlock with an expectation to have the happy matrimony last till death and be blessed with worthy offspring. The effectiveness of Dravya Yazna was questionable, but the essence was to bring a glimpse of “Vaidik recital “ to the masses - those who otherwise had no opportunity to participate in advanced procedures.

It also well served another goal — funding the research.

The formalization of family rituals into Dravya Yazna — sanitization of space (shuddhikaran), holy fire (Agni), intonations in carefully perfected ensemble (mantrochhaar), the time and the place (Dasha and Disha), and the specific order of homage to various deities (Aahuti); served two purposes. First it became a formal auspicious way to celebrate certain life events — such as childbirth, marriage, retirement and even death. Second, it created an interaction platform between those who were seeking a higher purpose on one side, and the rich affluent pillars of society who hosted the rituals on the other. After the rite, there used to be an abridged message read by the ritual maker, in local dialect, to explain the relevant scripture, followed by QnA sessions — more you ask, more you please the deity.

The hosts got the satisfaction of pleasing the deities while the ritual makers got plush donations — grain, cattle, precious metals. A big share of donations went to the central congregation — the source of wealth for the congregation - Kaam Dhenu - the virtuous cycle of knowledge to wealth. Many millennia later, the model still works in India. The classical music is still learnt in Gharanas — a diluted version of Ashramas. Each with their own style of renditions. The singers graduated from a specific Gharana of Hindustani Sangeet say Kirana Gharana have a lifelong bond to the origins of their art form, and are a source of continued alumni support.

It might feel as if Dravya Yazna was a sham, but the truth is it was a carefully thought out intervention to incentivize the ones who were dedicating their lives to carry forward the ‘scientific’ exploration. The research was not limited to spirituality or meditation. It paved the way for scientific discovery in fields such as medicine, agriculture, irrigation, construction and many more. Dwaipayana wrote later in Bhagvat Gita — a central piece of epic Mahabharata — that the idea of formalization of rituals in this format, was institutionalized by Prajapati. Many religious accounts believe Prajapati is a name for Brmha himself, who coded the basic laws of civilization and whose ideas seven ⁸ Bramhrishis adopted as inheritance from father to son. Others believe Prajapati is a deity responsible for administering the realm. Whichever point of view we may consider, the literal meaning of the word is self-evident. It means one who sustains the network. Praja means the subscribers of a system, Pati means one who takes care or owns those subscribers.

Dwaipayana wrote in chapter 3 of Gita ..

In olden times, the Lord of Creation (Prajapati), creating men and Yazna together, said, – flourish by means of Yazna. Let it be to you (all) the dispenser of all objects cherished. Rear the gods with this, and let the gods (in return) rear you. Thus fulfilling the mutual interest you will obtain that which is beneficial (to you).

^{Translation by Kisari Mohan Ganguly (KMG).}

2.4

Rites were baked in reality. For example someone starting an agricultural season, would conduct a ritual that underscored the right methods of sowing seeds, irrigation and harvesting. Someone starting a business would conduct a ritual that emphasized the fairness in trade. The ritual maker who officiated a wedding must be someone who deeply understood the responsibilities a couple was taking on when getting into a wedlock — the vows. And one conducting a ritual after someone’s death must be proficient in making the grief easier — like a therapist. Since all such endeavour had a significant risk, there was nothing wrong in having blessings of Godly deities on your side. Humility was considered a virtue.

Re-instituting this age-old model based on spoken words, was easy for someone like Bramhrishi Vaśiṣṭha for the know-how to set up this channel was rooted deep in him. However, textification of scripture was lot harder than he envisaged. For one, the core infrastructure was not in place — the tools for writing long texts were just not there. It was one thing to write a short, cryptic pigeon message but writing a scripture was a whole new territory. Humanity had yet not discovered paper. There was no standard long-lasting ink. Above all, there was no standard Grammar. It will be hundreds of years before Panini — a grammarian par excellence, wrote his epic Ashtadhyayi (eight chapters) to standardize the Sanskrit grammar ⁹.

Bigger problem - there was no commercial payback model associated with text, the way Dravya Yazna was associated to the spoken words to sustain the audio content. It was like “electricity” of early days. No one bought a bulb because there was no electricity, and no one mass-produced electricity because no one had bulbs !

He thought his grandson Parāśara, now reaching maturity, would take on this challenge. Little did he know that focus on texting the scriptures, would create a dual among his own followers. Ones who wanted to stay true the old - recital; and others who deemed “text” as a major improvement. Many possibilities of “new” must battle to establish control but more importantly to know what they stand for - who they are !

notes and stuff