The Rejection of Vedic Sacrificial Ritual in Indian Culture :: India Culture Religion Papers

The Rejection of Vedic Sacrificial Ritual in Indian Culture My intention in this piece is to explore the development of the concepts of brahman and atman in ancient Indian culture. I intend to examine the role of the Upanisads in Vedic society and to investigate their abandonment of Vedic sacrificial ritual. I contend that the writers of the Upanisads turned towards a mystical path away from society in order to explore a viable alternate way of living that did not involve sacrificial ritual. Although the only record we have of this shift in thought is a set of philosophical discourses, I suggest that this was not solely an intellectual move. Rather, there were emotional reasons as well as logical reasons that these groups of people moved away from Vedic society in pursuit of brahman. This was a slow process that evolved over many years and although it did not banish sacrifice from Indian culture, it laid the foundation for later non-violent religious movements in India. In attempting to apply Rene Girard and Gil Bailie’s theory o f acknowledgement of the victim to an ancient Indian phenomenon, I intend to show that the Upanisadic rejection of Vedic sacrificial ritual was a significant move away from the sacrificial system upon which humanity relies so heavily. Vedic Sacrifice: Maintenance of the Universe The sacrificial system of ancient India was founded on a worldview that placed humanity in an allegorical relationship with the divine realm. The physical world of humans was seen as a smaller, mirror image of the greater world of the gods. The fundamental role of religion was to assign and perform the appropriate rites to maintain proper order in the universe. The gods required regular offerings and appeasement. Thus, a relationship with the gods required maintenance that was provided by the sacrificial ritual. Fire ceremonies and the ritual giving of offerings to the gods were common practices for the Aryan tribes that invaded the Indian sub-continent in approximately 1500 BCE. [1] Their simpler, private offering ceremonies eventually evolved into the more codified, communal, elaborate sacrificial rituals of classical Vedic culture as this new society began to grow and change. Fire itself was of central importance to this civilization and all of these rituals focused around the offertory fire. It is logical, then, that the Aryans eventually personified the fire itself and deemed it divine.

Succubus Shadows Chapter 25

Not even when I felt his life energy come into me. I kept going. He pulled me into his condo, deftly kicking the door shut with his foot. His arms gripped me close, and we never broke the kiss as we stumbled through the living room and into his bedroom. We fell onto the bed, removing each other's clothing with practiced ease, almost like Mexico had just been the warm-up. My hands ran over the lean muscles of his chest, the scent of his skin drowning me. Letting down all restraint made me feel that much giddier – as did the sweet, glorious taste of his soul wrapping around me. Was it my imagination, or was it a little purer than it had been in Mexico? Had one decision to come back and face his fears cleaned that darkness even a little? I didn't know for sure, and even if it wasn't perfect, the energy still felt amazing. â€Å"Why?† he asked at last. His thoughts and feelings were coming through with the energy, and I'd wondered when he'd bring up the question warring with his desire. His hands continued touching me the whole time, one sliding up between my thighs. â€Å"Why now?† I arched my hips against his, crying out softly as his fingers slid into me. His mouth crushed mine, killing off my response for a moment. â€Å"Because I'm tired of fighting it. You're right. We're going to keep coming back to each other over and over†¦.† My eloquent speech was put on hold again when his mouth moved down to my breast, letting his tongue toy with my nipple. â€Å"You've said before you'll risk the shortening of your life†¦. I'll risk your mortality. I'll risk it all to be with you†¦to help you. If you still want it†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Yes,† he breathed against my flesh. â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"I won't leave you alone through this,† I murmured. â€Å"And I don't want to be alone either†¦.† Those were my last coherent words. He gently rolled himself onto me and slid his hands up my arms so that they could hold my wrists against the bed. I spread my legs, welcoming his body as it pushed into mine. Just like the first time we'd had sex, there was one perfect moment – one moment of astonishing, total completion. Like we'd found something we'd lost and were afraid we'd lose it again if we moved. Then, the metaphysical sentiment was gone, replaced by the driving desire of our bodies. He thrust into me, gently at first, then steadily increased the strength. I stared at him wide-eyed, taking in every feature, refusing to miss one instant of this experience. And believe me, I was getting quite the experience. Aside from the ecstasy of our bodies moving together, I still had his energy and feelings coming in. Knowing what he was thinking as we made love added a whole new dimension to it all. Sometimes with men it would be coherent thoughts. With him, it was just pure emotion. Love and trust and longing†¦feelings so strong that he was willing to risk anything for them, anything to be with me. Even his life. My body burned against his, growing increasingly turned on by the rapture and love on his face juxtaposed with the fierceness of the way he held me and kept pushing into me. Everything grew more intense – both physically and spiritually – and my body finally reached its breaking point. I came with a loud cry and thrashed against him, wanting to free my arms and wrap them around him. He continued holding me until he came, which didn't take much longer. The full burst of his soul's energy flooded me with his orgasm, and I heard myself moaning again at the joy of it. He thrust in a few more times, the motions growing slower and longer as his body took its release. The grip on my wrists loosened, and he shifted over to his side, taking me with him. I pressed against his chest, feeling the racing of his heart and sweat on his skin. My own heart was pounding too as my body reveled in its own satiation. Every part of me still tingled, and though there was really no way to get closer, I tried anyway. I wanted as much skin to touch as possible. I wanted as much of him blending into me as possible. He brushed the hair from my face and rained kisses down upon my forehead. â€Å"So that's the full succubus effect, huh?† â€Å"Yup.† â€Å"Worth it,† he murmured. Already, I could see the loss of energy taking its toll. â€Å"Whatever the cost, worth it.† I refused to allow myself to ponder that cost. Making love in the full throes of my succubus abilities might have added a powerful element, but it had undoubtedly taken years off his life. It wasn't for me to decide if it had been worth it, though. He'd made this choice. Said choice was exhausting him, and I knew he'd soon sleep for a very long time as his body and soul recovered their losses. I shifted so that we changed positions, bringing his head to lie against my breasts. â€Å"Rest,† I said, wrapping my arms around him. He tilted his head, looking up at me with warm, sleepy eyes. â€Å"Don't want to sleep yet†¦I want to stay with you. Will you be here in the morning this time?† â€Å"Yes,† I said, kissing the top of his head. â€Å"I promise. I won't leave you again.† A small smile played over his lips, and he allowed his lids to close. He snuggled against me, body relaxing. â€Å"The world†¦Ã¢â‚¬  he said softly, as sleep began taking him. â€Å"You are the world, Letha†¦.† I stiffened. â€Å"What did you say?† My voice was too loud, jarring enough to momentarily startle him out of the slumber his body now longed for. â€Å"Hmm? I said you were the world, Georgina.† He gave a small yawn. â€Å"That's not what you called me,† I said, trying to keep my voice calm. â€Å"What did I call you? Thetis?† Oh, if only. If only it had been his nickname for me. â€Å"You called me†¦Letha.† He fought to keep his eyes open and yawned again. â€Å"Why would I have said that?† â€Å"I†¦don't know. Where did you hear it?† Yes, indeed. Where would he have heard my name? Hardly anyone knew it. Greater immortals knew it, and that was pretty much it. The only lesser immortals who did were Niphon and Kristin, who'd had access to my records. I was pretty sure they'd never told my other immortal friends. I was confident they'd never told Seth. Seth's brow furrowed a little, then smoothed as he closed his eyes again. â€Å"Don't know. Greek myths, I guess. The River Lethe, where the dead go to wash away the memories from their souls†¦to forget the past. Isn't that right?† â€Å"Yes,† I said, scarcely breathing. Where did he pull that name from? â€Å"Letha, Lethe†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I could barely hear him now. â€Å"Almost the same.† â€Å"Almost,† I agreed. My voice was nearly as inaudible as his. My name. He shouldn't have known my name. A panic I couldn't explain began fluttering within me. Something about my mood must have still penetrated his haze because he stirred slightly, though his eyes remained closed. There was worry in his drowsy words. â€Å"What's wrong?† â€Å"Nothing. Get some rest.† Where had he heard my name? Minutes ago I'd been on fire. Now I felt cold. â€Å"You sure?† he murmured. â€Å"Everything's okay?† He exhaled deeply, and I felt him succumb to sleep with those last words. â€Å"Fine,† I said, staring off into the night. â€Å"Everything's fine.†

Book Report on A Modern Utopia by H. G. Wells Essay

Book Report on A Modern Utopia by H. G. Wells H. G. Wells’ book, A Modern Utopia was published in 1905. This book seems to be unique for two reasons. As Wells tells us, it is told from the point of view of a whitish plump man that he calls the Voice (1). This allows the book to be what Wells calls, a sort of shot-silk texture between philosophical discussion on the one hand and imaginative narrative on the other because the Utopia that we visit in the story is the one inside the mind of the Voice or the narrator (ix). He (the Voice) is talking to a friend, a botanist that continues with him on his journeys, about utopian thought when suddenly these two men have been transported past Sirius to Utopia, the Voice’s ideal planet†¦show more content†¦The reader finds out at this point that the men had really only been on holiday and the narrator had dreamed his Utopia so intensely that he made it real for himself. The men were really still on Earth, merely having conversations about a hypothetical Utopia. Nonet heless, while reading the book, even though the reader knows that this Utopia is fabricated, it seems as if they are intruders in a new world. The world that the narrator imagines is uniquely utopian because it is not static. It is constantly trying to improve itself. Before discussion of how Utopia constantly improves itself, it is interesting to note that this statement implies that this Utopia is not perfect. This is acknowledged near the beginning of the book when the two men meet a traveler who questions the establishment and would rather there be buildings. He says; [Buildings are] a mere rash. Why should we men play the part of bacteria upon the face of our Mother?(116). Still this he is not separate from civilization, as he makes, some considerable way above the minimum wage (117). This man’s protest of the establishment is the first hint that this new world does not claim to be perfect. In fact, later in the novel, the Voice admits that There is no perfection, there is no enduring treasureShow MoreRelatedOrganizational Behaviour Analysis28615 Words   |  115 Pagespolitics of transformation and futures. 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