Insecurity Is the Achilles’ Heel to Invincibility

(picture from the great Sanskrit epic, Mahabharata)

Confession: I have an Indian fetish. I paid for this song, which makes me feel indescribably nostalgic. But I have yet to see this movie. I am such a bad fetish. It’s interesting to see how a foreign culture and a foreign language (which I completely do not understand), can comfort me to such a great extent. It feels like a super-extended umbilical cord, clouded by layers and layers of fog.

Oh I don’t know. But this is not the point.

Professor P shared with us a (unofficial maybe) story  from the great Sanskrit epic, Mahabharata. We were talking about how realization is the Achilles’ heel to the U.S. taxation system, and apparently the idea of Achilles’ heel is just so common to all great cultures in the world that it’s a shared theme in mythology cross board. I mean, we all gotta have an invincible hero of some sort, as we all dream of being invincible, and the only logic way to make an “invincible” hero die, is to give him an Achilles’ heel.

I cite the links for future reference and entertainment purposes. I didn’t have the patience to read the long-winding saga at this ungodly hour. I somehow do not handle saga or myths stories well. They confuse me.

Anywho. So basically this warrior person, Drona (I think), is not a good person (according to Prof. P), and he is involved in this legendary Trojan-y war between two great forces. Warrior is a prince of some sort, and his mother is an incredibly pious woman, so pious that she blindfolded her throughout her marriage so that she can empathize and put herself in the same situation with her husband, the king. Some god was greatly touched and decided that she shall have the ability to render anything invincible upon gaze, but only the first gaze after she took off her blindfolds.

This king’s wife, queen person, didn’t like her son’s behavior, but still, she would like him to be safe. So, she told the son: go get naked, and come back. Her son, a grown man in his 30s, couldn’t make himself appear fully naked in front of his mother, thus he came out wearing a piece of loincloth. He then proclaims: mother, I am ready.

Mother took off blindfold, and gazed upon him: gasp, how come are you not NAKED?

So warrior is invincible except for the part covered under the loincloth. Of course he died, got hurt in the crucial part/thigh.

Great story. It stroke me as more interesting than the Greek version, as it seems to implicate some serious Oedipus-like complex here. Something in that line. I mean, mommy was helping you get invincible; quit being so INSECURE and hiding. A secure person wouldn’t feel disturbed by showing part of his body, which was born out of another part of his mother’s body, to his mother, not to mention it is a serious matter. Also, Indian culture is kinda interesting in many areas involving sexes. I am not educated enough to say anything about it. But I think they are just brilliant in picking out this as the vulnerable part. I mean, heels? Seriously? Definitely not as profound literary choice as genitals.

Maybe it suggests the corruptibility and fallibility of males and the tension between genders. The interest can never be aligned. Men fall because of their insecurity.

Well friend RG contributed significantly to the above preposterous talk. Today, we had an iceskating outing followed by lunch. Over steak fajitas, we decided that, actually, the Greek version wasn’t too shabby either.

Why did the Greek mother bathe her baby that way anyways? I mean, does ANY MOTHER lifted her child up at the heels, like lifting up a fish or chicken, and bathe him/her headfirst? Ok, maybe it is their ancient way of bathing, but woman, let your kid go! Full immersion!

So is this why Greek lost to Spartans, who allegedly kill weak babies from the outset? Further, is this why Greek are complaining about cutting their pensions? Is this why Greek didn’t like paying their taxes and made their country in such a horrible debt crisis?

And nobody shall take any preposterous talk seriously. I say a lot of things. If you buy it all, there is something wrong with you. Let’s not live with the loincloth. K?

And actually, I wish I were this witty. I am just a typewriter.