LIFE = pRpNch =
...WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE, EXPERIENCE & WISDOM
HAVE TIME TO USE
KNOWLEDGE, EXPERIENCE & WISDOM
TO FIND THE TRUTH
BEFORE WE ACT
FOR A HAPPIER TOMORROW
In our learning of veD which is
the SCIENCES OF CREATION AND LIFE, we have
come across the fact that this entire creation and all we experience in this
creation is called pRpNch....In
sNskrit language the word
pRpNch is defined as follows in Apte's
dictionary with supplementary explanation from veD
- Display or manifestation of anything in this universe which can be
experienced with 10 GNaanaeNDRRiyo ( 5 cognitive and 5 conative senses in
- Development, expansion or extension or anything in this universe;
- amplification, expatiation, explanation or elucidation of any experience
of this universe;
- prolixity (protracted or repetitious), diffuseness, copiousness of any
manifestation experienced in the universe;
- manifoldness, diversity of any manifestation in the universe;
- abundance or quantity of any manifestation in the universe;
- an appearance or phenomenon in this universe;
- illusion or fraud in this universe;
- the visible world or universe which is illusory and the scene of manifold
actions and with all the explanations of the word
pRpNch as noted above due to the effect of
maayaa-shkti by which is created all universes and all that
they contain and all that happens....maayaa-shkti
is the power of creator bRH`m
through which creator bRH`m
fulfils HIS wish to be many and do many kARm
In yog-vshiSH`TH which is also
vaSHiSH1TH-muni also explains that this
universe and everything in it is created by mns
(mind) with its aakaash-chit-shkti....and
thus it is only an illusion or dream....the
only REALITY is creator bRH`m....
Please click on the next line to read a real life anecdote submitted by
PVAF's copious contributor SRii Jaswantbhai Mehta
of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada which tells the story that what we see is usually
not the REALITY....we have to have the
knowledge of life and then with that knowledge supported by wisdom gained in
life have the time and patience to investigate the
REALITY AND TRUTH of all that we see, hear, smell, taste and touch in
life......the knowledge, wisdom, time and patience is what made Newton, Einstein
and all the great inventors and scientists and also people like gaaNDHi,
Lincoln, Alexander....please click on the next line and have an experience next
time in YOUR own life by understanding the morale of the anecdote...or
alternatively not listening to veD
keep on messing up life with no understanding....
Do We Fight or Do We Listen?
The train clanked and rattled through the suburbs of Tokyo on a drowsy spring
afternoon. Our car was comparatively empty - a few housewives with their kids in
tow, some old folks going shopping. I gazed absently at the drab houses and
At one station the doors opened, and suddenly the afternoon quiet was shattered
by a man bellowing violent, incomprehensible curses. The man staggered into our
car. He wore laborer's clothing, and he was big, drunk, and dirty. Screaming, he
swung at a woman holding a baby. The blow sent her spinning into the laps of an
elderly couple. It was a miracle that she was unharmed.
Terrified, the couple jumped up and scrambled toward the other end of the car.
The laborer aimed a kick at the retreating back of the old woman but missed as
she scuttled to safety. This so enraged the drunk that he grabbed the metal pole
in the center of the car and tried to wrench it out of its stanchion. I could
see that on of his hands was cut and bleeding. The train lurched ahead, the
passengers frozen with fear. I stood up.
I was young then, some 20 years ago, and in pretty good shape. I'd been putting
in a solid eight hours of aikido training nearly every day for the past three
years. I like to throw and grapple. I thought I was tough. Trouble was, my
martial skill was untested in actual combat. As students of aikido, we were not
allowed to fight.
"Aikido," my teacher had said again and again, "is the art of reconciliation.
Whoever has the mind to fight has broken his connection with the universe. If
you try to dominate people, you are already defeated. We study how to resolve
conflict, not how to start it."
I listened to his words. I tried hard. I even went so far as to cross the street
to avoid the chimpira, the pinball punks who lounged around the train stations.
My forbearance exalted me. I felt both tough and holy. In my heart, however, I
wanted an absolutely legitimate opportunity whereby I might save the innocent by
destroying the guilty.
This is it! I said to myself, getting to my feet. People are in danger and if I
don't do something fast, they will probably get hurt. Seeing me stand up, the
drunk recognized a chance to focus his rage.
"Aha!" He roared. "A foreigner! You need a lesson in Japanese manners!"
I held on lightly to the commuter strap overhead and gave him a slow look of
disgust and dismissal. I planned to take this turkey apart, but he had to make
the first move. I wanted him mad, so I pursed my lips and blew him an insolent
"All right! He hollered. "You're gonna get a lesson." He gathered himself for a
rush at me.
A split second before he could move, someone shouted "Hey!" It was earsplitting.
I remember the strangely joyous, lilting quality of it - as though you and a
friend had been searching diligently for something, and he suddenly stumbled
"Hey!" I wheeled to my left; the drunk spun to his right. We both stared down at
a little old Japanese man. He must have been well into his seventies, this tiny
gentleman, sitting there immaculate in his kimono. He took no notice of me, but
beamed delightedly at the laborer, as though he had a most important, most
welcome secret to share.
"C'mere," the old man said in an easy vernacular, beckoning to the drunk. "C'mere
and talk with me."
He waved his hand lightly. The big man followed, as if on a string. He planted
his feet belligerently in front of the old gentleman, and roared above the
"Why the hell should I talk to you?"
The drunk now had his back to me. If his elbow moved so much as a millimeter,
I'd drop him in his socks. The old man continued to beam at the laborer.
"What'cha been drinkin'?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with interest.
"I been drinkin' sake," the laborer bellowed back, "and it's none of your
business!" Flecks of spittle spattered the old man.
"Ok, that's wonderful," the old man said, "absolutely wonderful! You see, I love
sake too. Every night, me and my wife (she's 76, you know), we warm up a little
bottle of sake and take it out into the garden, and we sit on an old wooden
bench. We watch the sun go down, and we look to see how our persimmon tree is
He looked up at the laborer, eyes twinkling. As he struggled to follow the old
man's conversation, the drunk's face began to soften. His fists slowly
"Yeah," he said. "I love persimmons too." His voice trailed off.
"Yes," said the old man, smiling, "and I'm sure you have a wonderful wife."
"No," replied the laborer. "My wife died." Very gently, swaying with the motion
of the train, the big man began to sob. "I don't got no wife, I don't got no
home, I don't got no job. I am so ashamed of myself." Tears rolled down his
cheeks; a spasm of despair rippled through his body.
Now it was my turn. Standing there in well-scrubbed youthful innocence, my
make-this-world-safe-for-democracy righteousness, I suddenly felt dirtier than
he was. Then the train arrived at my stop. As the doors opened, I heard the old
man cluck sympathetically.
"My, my," he said, "that is a difficult predicament, indeed. Sit down here and
tell me about it."
I turned my head for one last look. The laborer was sprawled on the seat, his
head in the old man's lap. The old man was softly stroking the filthy, matted
As the train pulled away, I sat down on a bench. What I had wanted to do with
muscle had been accomplished with kind words. I had just seen aikido tried in
combat, and the essence of it was love. I would have to practice the art with an
entirely different spirit. It would be a long time before I could speak about
the resolution of conflict.
From his book "The Teachings of Terry Dobson" who spent 10 years as an early
student, disciple and teaching assistant to Morehei Ueshiba, the founder of
Aikido, and then returned to the United States to refine a system of conflict