It’s at such contemplative moments that you think that the entire universe has been working on a grand plan to sustain human life on Earth. If apocalyptic nuclear explosions in the sun’s interior get transformed into a benign source that creates and guarantees life on this blessed planet, there must be a purpose, a very lofty purpose indeed, behind the birth and evolution of the human species. What is it? And why don’t we adequately examine it?

“The unexamined life,” says Socrates, “is not worth living.” But we live much of our lives without asking ourselves questions that ought to be asked every day: “Why was I born? Why do I live? And if the entire universe and the whole of society have been working to keep me alive, am I doing enough for their well-being? If I die tomorrow — our holy scriptures caution us that our death always stays closer to us than our skin — will I have given an honourable account of the time I spent on this planet? Have I always been truthful and honest? If the sun can so generously transform his volcanic heat into life-protecting energy, what am I doing to control my own negative emotions?”

One reason for our failure to ask ourselves such questions — or for the fact that they have inconvenient and troubling answers — is that we do not spend enough time with ourselves. Our mode of living in today’s consumerism-driven culture has too much outward focus, and too little inward focus. Take, for instance, the year that is about to end. How much of it was spent by you and me in our own solitude, in the company of our private selves, or in conversation with those who have become a part of our lives, just as we have become theirs? ‘Quality time’ is a term widely used these days, and it has a profound meaning. What was the share of ‘quality time’ in 2007 in our lives?

I recently read an insightful and highly inspiring book, Peace: For Us, For Our Families, For Our Communities and For The World, by Swami Chidanand Saraswati of Parmarth Niketan, Rishikesh. It contains a poem, ‘Tragic Paradox of our Lives’, by an anonymous author. Here are some lines from it:

“We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; Wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. / We spend more, but have less; We buy more, enjoy less. / We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, less judgement; More experts, yet more problems; more medicines, less health. / We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. / We talk too much, love too seldom; We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life; We’ve added years to life, not life to years. / We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbour. / We’ve conquered outer space, but not inner space. / There are the times of big men and small character; Steep profits and shallow relationships; Fancier houses, but broken homes.”

This paradox can be reduced only by changing ourselves from within and the society around us. Says Swami Chidanand Saraswati: “Be the example. Others will follow.” It echoes Mahatma Gandhi’s sage advice: “We must be the change we want to see in the world.” With the passage of years, I have become convinced that one’s own inner transformation is far more important than concepts of ‘social revolution’ that impress and motivate sensitive people in their youth. Mega transformations in society, if guided by noble personalities, are important but they happen once in centuries. What society needs, for its own enduring progress and for the happiness of its members, is nano-evolution happening each day, through the smallest of actions, among individuals, families and communities.

As quantum physics teaches us, all that is happening in the womb of the sun — and also inside the cells of the green grass, the darting squirrel, and the human body that delights in the touch of the winter sunshine — is the work of sub-atomic processes. Life and happiness, too, are the outcome of nano phenomena.

Happy New Year to all my esteemed readers.

Postscript: 2007 ended tragically. Benazir Bhutto, a courageous leader who fought for democracy and against Islamist terror in Pakistan, was martyred. Martyrs don’t die.