Symbols hold a powerful attraction for people. Even today, in an age in which materialistic perspectives rule human thought, many ancient symbols such as the ankh, the yin/yang, American Indian designs, pyramids, and many other symbols are quite popular in jewelry and in the home. Why do symbols of the ancient civilizations continue to be an integral part our society, even to the point that corporations use them in commercials, movies, logos, in television documentaries, etc.?

TOne of the platforms through which this unique concept of education was disseminated was through the ancient Indian Gurukul tradition. The term Gurukul comes from Guru, meaning teacher and kul, meaning extended family or home.

At some points in our lives, many of us face some nagging questions. What manifests is a sense of restlessness, a lack of real happiness and peace – despite the absence of any apparent reason for feeling so. Questions like, Am I doing what I should be doing? Do my actions have any meaning or purpose at all? What is my purpose?

How would you respond if at such moments, you got a direction like: “That which you seek is seeking you.” (1) Or if you hear with a transcendent clarity: “My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that, and I intend to end up there.” (1) Would you not be inspired to pursue an investigation: What could be seeking me? Where has my soul come from? What direction takes me back to where I came from?

As the summer months climax with the annual monsoons breathing fresh life into the soil, Nature renews her promise to every being in her domain. It is a promise of continuity, and as if by magic, life vibrantly awakes, and breaks into song, with every creature, every plant, and every spirit dancing together in unison.

Extracts from an evening hosted by New Acropolis Culture Circle. Philanthropy can be a bridge between the ideal of fraternity and its material manifestation. Imagining a better world, with a greater sense of fraternity is intuitively appealing to many. Yet, to make a personal sacrifice in order to create that better world, is the choice that we make less often than is needed.

In this light, it is relevant to ask – what drives one to share with that urgent sense of duty? Does one need money and power to be a philanthropist? What is the relationship between our choices and our identity?

“And how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?

Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn’t see?

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?”

These lines from Bob Dylan’s song – Blowing in the Wind – flashed in my head as I put down another book written on Giordano Bruno, arguably one of the greatest philosophers from the 16th Century. The lines of the song and Giordano Bruno’s quest seem to echo each other – to urge humanity to look beyond the dark sheaths of ignorance, the petty disputes, divisions and one-upmanship, and to explore the true identity of what it means to be human, which is much more than the mode of survival that has become the focus of our ‘living’, today.

Between the Middle Ages in Europe when it was engulfed in darkness, and today where we admire the marvels of human creation, connectedness, technological advancement, and medical progress, have we really become smarter, happier, more loving and caring? Why does it feel that the last few hundred years of progress have largely been about attempts to master the everchanging outside, without ever addressing the real core of the problem? Have we even spent enough time to understand what the core is? Have we made progress towards finding out what our life is about and who we really are?

In the developed world, the standards of literacy, numeracy, general knowledge and behaviour are falling. Millions of young people have also become disaffected from school and, despite the fact that previous generations have fought hard to make what was once a privilege of the rich accessible to all, do not see much point in formal education. In the U.K. for example, the figures of truanting have been going up for years and the problem has become so bad that the government is paying the most disaffected students in order to keep them in school and away from the streets.

Delia certainly lived all her life with this vocation to do something useful, to help others and to improve the world she encountered. For all those who knew her, she was an exceptional human being, a great example of wisdom, humanity, willpower, infinite kindness and a generous love that expected nothing in return.

As the Sun rises over the horizon and fills the sky with its magical light, a 2000 year old ritual is performed daily in the few remaining Zoroastrian temples of Mumbai. The priest performs a ceremony (5 times each day), tending to the flames of the consecrated fire, offering fragrant sandalwood and incense while reciting ancient texts venerating the holy fire, ringing a bell nine times, rejecting evil thoughts, evil words, and evil deeds. Such veneration of fire, however, is not distinct to the Zoroastrian community. Many cultures around the world have worshipped fire in different manners over millennia.

The question of free will is one of the oldest and most enduring questions facing humanity. The ancient Greeks considered it in their tragedies, such as Oedipus Rex, where it seemed as though the hero’s fate was predetermined in spite of any actions he might take to prevent or alter it. The Greeks and their cultural successors, the Romans, had an image of three Fates, who wove and spun the destinies of men, and cut the thread of their lives at a pre-ordained moment.

There is a relative uncertainty as to when our earliest human ancestors evolved on earth. But it is certain that by that time, a myriad variety of plants and trees had already been thriving on the planet. The very structure of a tree, with its trunk segmenting into branches, twigs and leaves, is a physical manifestation of the philosophical concept characterizing the relationship between the universe and the One; multiplicity from Unity. The tree’s concealed roots further extend the metaphor, of unity springing from a hidden origin or source. Even those of us who do not share this perception cannot help but experience a sense of awe, perhaps even an intuitive reverence, in the presence of a forest of these majestic giants clothed in their silent, steadfast, resilient beauty. Older than man himself, trees have been integral to myths and folklore in almost all cultures as symbols of solace, strength, abundance, and immortality.

Often when we come across this phrase, it is meant to emphasise the importance of bottom line results, disregarding the means used to achieve them, as if the path of our actions isn’t important at all; only the outcome is. Sometimes it is used in order to justify an unethical act with regards to a right cause, or even a noble ideal.

Practically, one may say that a small evil is acceptable, in order to prevent a greater one, or to bring some good. But what starts with good intention may easily grow into an undesirable reality; planting the seed of a certain tree can’t result in a different type of tree, no matter how much we wish for it.

When I left home for college, there was a certain clarity with which I had my life planned out — my career, lifestyle, personal ambitions.
But by the time I graduated, I had far more questions than I had answers. Prompted by an insistent inner voice, I couldn’t help but wonder — is this really what life is all about? I started to question what I truly valued, what success meant to me, and how I could live a more meaningful life.
It was then that I chanced upon a flyer of a school of practical philosophy called New Acropolis.

The shame and frustration of losing, in fact, have nothing to do with the person or circumstance which defeated us, it is our inner resistance to accept the fact that we are not perfect and that we need to continue and train ourselves; It is a resistance to the fact that in this lifetime we may not be able to achieve everything we dream of.

The word Samurai originally meant ‘those who serve’, although individuals of this elite warrior class in medieval Japan were also referred to as Bushi, or warrior. And Bushido was the code of morality which the Samurai were meant to follow, not just in battle, but also in day-to-day activity. Speaking of this code in his book Bushido: The Soul of Japan, which is widely considered to be an authority on the subject, Nitobe says that it was not written down anywhere, but had organically formed over centuries.