KALI IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS
DAVID ARTHUR WALTERS
Much has already been said about the long history of crimes against humanity perpetuated by the noble aristocrats sometimes referred to as ‘Aryans’. Still the nobles or “knowns” refuse to be convicted: they offer in their own defense the argument that the depredations of the barbaric oppression of mankind is of relatively recent origin.
In the Good Old Days, they say, the good old gods fought dark clouds, not dark people. Yes, they battled with primitive viciousness, not skin color. We are informed that ‘varna’ (caste) simply means distinction, not merely the distinctive colors, and that the original sources or authors did not discriminate in favor of any particular distinction of color, facial characteristic, and such, but merely explained, objectively, real differences by means of creation myths. We are rather amazed by the lack of prejudice in those Good Old Days even in comparison to our own, and in comparison to other parts of the primitive worlds where mother and child were eradicated if the newborn had some alien distinction.
Never mind that. In the Good Old Days, many races were Aryan, for the Aryan company was an equal opportunity employer. ‘Aryan’, we are informed, means ethically upright; it denotes the virtuous nobility, namely people known for their goodness, not for their slaughter of anyone who gets in the way. The term ‘Aryan’ may appertain to a language group, but it has nothing to do with race. Therefore the classical aristocratic conclusion follows any proposition that their conduct be regulated by civilized authority: oppressed peoples and races do not need better conditions or laws, they need better morals, they need family values, and so on.
As for the generally oppressed class, women, they were relatively free and certainly beloved in the Good Old Days. They had prolonged cataclysmic climaxes. Noble women, at least, had the benefit of leisure for education; they inherited property; they fought valiantly in battle with bows and arrows and they drove war chariots–one remarkable lady was provided with an iron leg after one of hers was severed in combat. Some women were even generals. Moreover, according to the ancient texts as interpreted, women were seers, poets, and priests; they chose their own husbands on the basis of love rather than wealth; and so forth.
The great black goddess Kali, wherever she appeared, was literally smeared with the bloody guilt projections of her aristocratic enemies. Although cosmic Kali shall not lose the war, she has lost many battles. For instance, her adherents were impressed by the Aryans into a caste (varna: color, distinction) that served to preserve the racial purity of the upper classes: “One occupation only the Lord prescribed for the Sudra, to meekly serve the other three castes.” (Code of Many) And, outcasts on the fringes, who had not been incorporated into the four castes yet, were the ‘Untouchables’ occupied with such duties as dung handling. Of course, the Aryan apologists proclaim their ancient respect for dung handling, noting their deep appreciation for its several virtues. For instance, they practiced scatomancy, or divination by dung: the smoke of dried dung as well as the steam from fresh dung was used to predict the weather; dung-smoke was also used to fumigate sacred precincts. But there is a dark side to scatology, as disgusting as it might seem, usually reserved to the lower classes: liquid fertilizer for the soul, the liquid strained from dung, was used as a sacred medicinal beverage; the eating of a yogi’s dung was particularly auspicious for his disciples; Krishna employed a mountain of dung called Govardhana, or Cow Prosperity, to shield people from from Indra’s wrath–Indra was angry because Krishna told them to worship the dung heaven instead of Indra.
The Good Old Days were not as golden as the Aryan apologists make them out to be as they pore over their Vedas. They have taken, for their own sake, the cosmic order out of order. The Golden Age does not precede the Dark Age; quite to the contrary: Kali Yuga precedes the Golden Age, which winds down again to another Kali Yuga. It appears to us that, following the horrible mistakes and misdeeds of the Aryan forefathers, in a count down from four legs of Truth to one (kali) leg, Divine Mother’s cyclical avenging aspect is now in effect. This is the Kali Yuga, or Black Age of manifold horrors, an age of holocausts and world wars, of ruthless competition and organized greed, culminating eventually in the virtual annihilation of the human race as we know it.
The alleged Good Old Days were actually days of Kali Yuga, thereafter continued unto our own day. Just as the lords of our fatherlands and the capitalists of our companies gamble with our lives and fortunes, so did the ancient Aryan gods play their awesome dice game for their domains, losing and winning entire kingdoms in the process, along with their friends, relatives, and their own personal freedoms. The unlucky die for the losers of the dice game was the ace in those days: the dead ‘one’, or ‘kali’, a black dot, or, depending on how the game was played, the unfortunate one left after the booty was evenly divided–the odd man out, or woman.
Alas for the hapless social person degraded to the status of a naked individual stripped of predicates; in our times, a mere statistical unit. A unit standing alone without companions in time and space is really a physical impossibility, for identity always requires relation. Personality needs a variety of relations. Personal relations during Kali Yuga are horrible, they are dissolving; therefore ‘kala’ (death) is sure to follow, A man during this age is as good as dead, reclining on the ground–in contemporary terms: a couch potato watching TV, a nerd surfacing the Internet, a corporate employees shuffling through his work like a zombie, a worm-like producer-consumer who does not know who he is, and so on.
Therefore the ‘Brahmanas’ say of the outcast ace, the unlucky die of the dice game, “Kali he becometh who lieth.” Yet all is not completely lost, for Kali has a positive face for the winner: Kali is the origin of time as well as its devourer, a mass compacted to an undifferentiated point ready to be manifested. So the Kali Yuga man, compacted by dissolving relations of the countdown of ages from four to one, can do his best to preserve his integrity during Kali Yuga by trying to reverse the cosmic order, which is a declining order. He is urged to arise on the count of two, stand on three, and get going on four, for “Evil is he who stayeth among men. Indra is the comrade of the wanderer.” In other words, “The fortune of him who sitteth also sitteth; but that of him who standeth standeth erect; that of him who reclineth lieth down; the fortune of him that moveth shall move indeed.”
Yes, perhaps conditions elsewhere might favor the person, or his chances might improve along the way, or even where he presently resides, if he can only get going. By way of example, consider the Roms, whose origin is India, often called “gypsies” because they convinced Europeans they had escaped the persecution of Christians in Egypt. They know that travel heals, and, if they are unable to travel when ill, they might sit in their parked cars for symptomatic relief. As it is today in Kali Yuga, so was it when the ‘Brahmanas’ were written: “All his sins disappear, slain by the toil of his journeying.”
Nonetheless, as much as we might accomplish in our attempt to reverse the cosmic order, it shall, in the end, prevail. For instance, where did 400,000 descendants of the true Aryan travelers, the Roms, wind up in our Kali Yuga, in our Iron Age? In Hitler’s ovens. Today only the vestiges of the wanderers’ culture survives the monstrous mechanical roller we call civilization.
Such collective misfortunes can cause an individual to curse the day he was born, to yearn for the womb, to worship death, to call upon his Divine Mother, Kali, the Black One, for eternal Peace.