How Ocean came into existence

By Manju Gupta

King Sagar lived peacefully with his family. Gradually, as his sons became older, the king saw that they were turning out to be rather wild and unruly. They showed no signs of politeness or good upbringing.

One day, his son Asmanjas behaved so badly with the king that in a fit of anger the king told him to leave the kingdom. The king’s other queen named Sumati had 60,000 sons, almost the size of an army. How could he throw them out? Instead they all could have overpowered him and occupied his throne. So he had no alternative but to tolerate them.

One day, King Sagar decided to hold an ashwamedha yajna (a horse is set free and as far as it reaches is considered the border of the king’s kingdom) to establish his power over the empire. He called his 60,000 sons and said, “In a month’s time I plan to hold an ashwamedha yajna. I would like you all to guard my white horse very carefully. Let it not escape nor be stolen.”

The sons willingly agreed and kept a watch on him day and night. On keeping a watch over the horse continuously for so long, they all fell asleep one day. The next morning they found the horse missing. They were terribly worried as they did not know how to face the king. However, the king came to know of it and called his sons. They all rushed to given their explanation, “Father, we were all guarding the horse but it seems to have escaped or has been stolen when we fell asleep.”

The king told them, “I know the horse is neither on Earth, nor in Heaven. It must be in the netherworld then. Go and find my horse.”

The princes left and began to dig deep into the earth till they reached the netherworld. In the dark interior they saw the white horse standing proudly with Sage Kapila sitting in front, in deep mediation. They all thought, “So the sage had stolen our horse. He is a thief. Look how calmly he sits as through nothing has happened.”

One of the princes suggested, “Let us kill him.”

Another prince added, “No, let me pierce my dagger into him.”

The third prince said, “I am very angry with him. Let me throttle him.”

The sage opened his eyes and saw 60,000 young men peeping and peering at him. He flew into a rage; a wild rage that slowly began to burn all the 60,000 of them.

Meanwhile King Sagar waited impatiently for his sons to return. After some time he sent Asmanjas’s son Ansumat to go in search of his sons. Ansumat searched everywhere and on reaching the netherworld, he discovered the body parts of his uncles burning. Their bodies were burning as they were dying slowly, bit by bit.

He immediately went and fell at Sage Kapila’s feet and begged, “Please I beg of you, do forgive my uncles as they had no idea as to what they were doing. Do restore them to life, else my father will die of sorrow.”

Sage Kapila looked at him with kind eyes and said, “To take them to Earth, you will have to bring down the river of Heaven on Earth. Meanwhile, you can take the horse with you to give it to the king.”

Ansumat returned with the horse and the ashwamedha yajna was completed.

King Sagar, however, was very sad as none of his sons was left with him. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he remembered them till an ocean (i.e. Sagar) was formed.

Indus-Sarasvati civilisation: No Aryan conquest

By Prof Nick Gier

At least three different ethnic types: Austro-Asians, earliest peoples related to Australian aborigines; Dravidians, the people that the Aryans encountered; and the Aryans themselves. This divides up into three different language types, too, with the Northern Indian languages derived from Sanskrit and the Southern languages having Dravidian roots. (Many indologists however dispute the Aryan-Dravidian classification—Ed.)

Indus river is called Sindhu (a river goddess) in Sanskrit. Persians could not pronounce initial “S,” so it therefore became “Hindu.”

Why did the first great civilisations spring up in some of the driest areas of the world? Not the Mississippi, Amazon, or Danube river valleys, where the sod could not be plowed, but the river systems were the land that did not have to be cleared. Alluvial soil is easier to plow and very fertile.

Indus cities thrived from ca. 3000 to 2000 BCE and went into slow decline after that time. Two great cities (Mohenjo Daro and Harappa) sprang seemingly from nowhere, fully planned and functional, even more rationally planned than Mesopotamia or Egypt (contrast irregular streets of Babylon. Excellent plumbing and evidence of municipal control over the drainage are found. City blocks 200 yards by 400 yards. Indoor showers and drains were also there.

Unimaginative but well-designed and sturdy structures. Well built and comparatively spacious housing for workers and slaves. Language still has yet to be deciphered; some scholars discern a similarity with Polynesian languages (specifically Easter Island!). Not much art except for assorted seals.

Agriculture was central. Surpluses to support city. Grain and cotton; famous for latter. The harrow only, because the plow was not needed in the soft soil. Some animals domesticated, but not elephant or horse. No irrigation. Some evidence of dam building to flood areas. Did not have iron and mediocre metallurgy (bronze only). Did not penetrate jungle for that very reason. Very poor weapons. No military fortresses, etc. No swords. The people seemed to be extremely conservative; they did not pick up new things even though there is much evidence of trade with Mesopotamia and Persia.

Religion: mother goddess, fertility, etc. Great communal bath at Mohenjo Daro. Definitely for religious purposes. Temple prostitutes. Common also in Babylon. Female figurines and the horned gods with erect penis. Phallus worship. Aryans called them “dark,” “phallus-worshiping,” “foul-mouthed,” and “godless.” Horned-god as “proto-Shiva” sitting in the lotus position. Lord of the Forest (Vanaspati) and Beasts (Pashupati). Proto-Venus fertility goddess. The humped-backed bull, but not the sacred cow.

World-wide comparisons: Aryans vs. Indus Valley people; Israelites (non-Aryans) vs. Canaanites; Earliest Greeks (Aryans) vs. Minoans on Crete; Sky-gods and war-gods vs. Fertility gods and goddesses.

Breakdown of Indus Valley Civilisation

Three possible causes, and probably a combination of all three:

External human forces: Invading nomadic tribes of Aryan warriors. Harrapans had very poor weapons—stone tipped arrows. Aryan war-god Indra vs. Indus pacifists.

Natural forces: floods, droughts, radical geologic changes. Natural dams flooded the cities. Back up of salt water from the ocean.

Internal human forces: urban pollution and over population. Decline of trade with Mesopotamia. Conservative culture that did not pick up new ideas. Didn’t use their ingenuity to defend themselves.

Pre-Aryan Religious Heritage
Ahimsa (non-injury)—the principle of non-violence.

Karma and Reincarnation.

Yoga—proto-Shiva in the lotus position.

Worship of Great Goddess—goddess figurines from the Indus cities.

Cults of trees, waters, animals, e.g., the fig tree, the most famous being the Buddha’s Bo Tree.

Phallus worship connected with the proto-Shiva.

Bhaktism—devotion to a savior god. I personally have seen no evidence of this.

Village deities, demons, ghosts, spirits.

Third Eye—the mind’s eye, the eye of introspection and meditation. Perhaps seen on the forehead of nobleman/priest of Indus seals.

New Evidence
Much larger than previously thought. May be the largest prehistoric urban civilisation.

May have had a democratic organisation. At least more egalitarian than any other civilisation.

Largest exporters in the ancient world. 700 ft. long dock in Gujarat.

Suffered depression rather than Aryan conquest. Migration eastward to Sarasvati.

Largest Ancient Civilisation
1.5 million square kilometers. Larger than Western Europe.

Iranian border to the West; Turkmenistan and Kashmir to the North; Delhi to the East; and the southern Gujarat to the South.

1,400 sites: 917 in India, 481 in Pakistan, and one in Afganistan.

Sarasvati not Indus?
Most of the sites are in the ancient Sarasvati River basin.

Sarasvati River mentioned in the Rigveda, running between the Indus and the Yamuna Rivers.

Satellite images proved this to be correct.

Some scholars warn that we should stay clear from potential Pakistani-Indian conflict.

Who were these people?
Examination of skeletel remains show that they are directly linked to present day Indians.

Many practices (farming, sailing, jewelry) preserved intact.

The tandoori oven is an Indus-Sarasvati invention.

Indus Chronology
Stage 1: 7000-4000 BC
Beginnings of village farming communities

Stage 2: 4300-3200 BC
Developed farming and pastoral communities

Stage 3: 3200-2600 BC
Agricultural surplus societies, urbanisation

Stage 4: 2600-2500 BC
The big leap. Advanced town-planning and scripts emerge

Stage 5: 2500-2000 BC
Civilisation in full bloom

Stage 6: 2000-1600 BC
Dramatic decline in Sindh and resurgence in Punjab and Haryana. Back to farming units

Indus-Sarasvati Egalitarianism

No cult of personality or royal tombs.

Some social stratification but still no control by one class. Competing elites?

Obvious administrative organisation (standardised weights, measurements, and brick size) but only regional capitals.

Seals with what looks like a priest but there is no evidence that they had any great control.

(The writer is a Professor Emeritus, Department of Philosophy University of Idaho. Source: http://www.class.uidoho.edu and http://sites.google.com)

India is top on corruption chart

By Dr Jay Dubashi

According to Transparency International(TI), a think tank based in Germany, which keeps tabs on corruption across the world, India is one of the most corrupt countries in the world, and there are only three or four more corrupt countries than India, all of them in Africa. I was not aware of this International “reputation” of India’s until I came across the TI’s report.

On a single day last month, a newspaper in the small town where I live (Pune) carried almost a dozen stories of instances of corruption in the state. They all involve high government officials and, of course, their patrons, the politicians. One politician, member of parliament, no less, was arrested for the alleged murder of fellow legislator. The politician is said to be the right hand man of the president of a so-called national party which is a constituent of the state government, and is actually related to him. Murder is not corruption, you might say. But when his house was searched, the police found revolvers and guns, apart from swords and lakhs of rupees in cash. The murder took place three years ago but the man was not arrested because of his links with the big party bosses.

A corporator was found to own 25 houses and flats in and around Pune along with several plots. He is only a corporator but is worth hundreds of crores of rupees which he is said to have acquired in less than three years that he held the office. The corporator is missing and has not been traced.

Then there is the ubiquitous official with his hand in the till, this time a director of agriculture. I was not aware that there was so much money involved in the administration of what is supposed to be one of the poorest sectors of the economy viz. agriculture. But apparently you can make millions out of anything, if you put your mind to it. The entire family was apparently involved and the police are still looking for the hidden loot.

Why are we Indians so corrupt? The simple answer is that they manage to go scot free and the punishment never fits the crime. You rarely hear about high bureaucrats, let alone high politicians, being sentenced to prison, even after ten or twenty years. Not a single babu connected with the Bofors case has seen the inside of a jail and the Italian middle man who masterminded the whole affair is enjoying himself at the Riviera.

There is a minister in the Maharashtra government who is building a huge mall in a central location in Pune. Every body knows about it and everybody talks about it, but the man continues to be minister and goes about in his car with the red lamp. He even visits the mall from time to time, but the income tax officials and others look the other way.

These are obvious cases. There are also others. The co-operative sector in Maharashtra—the sector that supplies all its politicians—is a beehive of corruption, where looting is a regular—and respectable—occupation. Apart from the sugar factories, there are scores, may be hundreds, of co-operative banks whose managements, most of whom happen to be local politicians, routinely defraud the depositors. But very few managements are brought to account and almost none convicted. Most directors and chairmen wind up as legislators and ministers in course of time, where they continue their public “work”.

This must be happening all over India, but, for some reason, everybody ignores it. Have we become so inured to corruption that we do not notice it any more, just as we don’t’ notice dirt in the streets, or are we so involved in it that we do not wish to take any action? We now take corruption for granted, like murders and railway accidents, and when we come across a big headline in the morning newspaper, we just have another sip of tea and turn the page.

It used to be said that our bureaucrats—and our legislators—were underpaid unlike in other countries and often fell victims to temptation. I never bought this spurious argument. If it is lack of money that makes you corrupt, why do millionaires do it? In any case, neither the bureaucrats nor the legislator are under paid now. They take home more per month than we used to per year, yet they are as corrupt as ever.

In China, bureaucrats who are caught embezzling money are executed. It is as simple as that. China executes more people than the rest of the world together. But corruption is still a busy occupation in China and foreigners are in the habit of distributing cash in envelopes from top to bottom and claim that as business expense!

I think we Indians tend to compromise with irregular behaviour, to put it mildly, which in its extreme form becomes corruption, and think up all kinds of excuses to justify it. There is one standard for hoi polloi, and quite another for the top dog. We often read about a constable being sent to jail for five years for asking for a small bribe for a traffic offence, but never about minister and secretaries with their millions in foreign bank accounts.

When I first landed in England immediately after the last war, I was astonished at the high standard of conduct of not only officials but also the common man. Although things were scarce—I used to get an egg per week and a small bar of chocolate per month—there was no black market. We queued up at our grocer’s –and old man whose only man had died in the war—and collected our meager rations week after week, but nobody complained. I once saw an old man behind me at a village fish—and–chips shop. The face looked familiar. The man turned out to be Lord Pethick-Lawrence, secretary of state for India, who had just sent Mountbatten to New Delhi to negotiate transfer of power and give up the empire.

Harold Wilson was chancellor of the exchequer—equivalent to our finance minister—in the first Attlee government after the last war and later became Prime Minister. Before he came into politics, he was a lecturer in Oxford. After he retired from polities, he started looking for a house in London but couldn’t find any as he had very little money, and went back to this Yorkshire home. There his ailing wife fell ill but they didn’t have enough money for her treatment. So his friends—not businessmen—came to his rescue and raised funds to pay the bills. Towards the end, he couldn’t afford even a nurse to look after her.

Corruption, thy name is greed. When you have thousands, you want lakhs, and when you have lakhs, you want crores. Look at the houses of ministers in Delhi. I do not think ministers have such palatial houses, even in Washington, the capital of the world’s richest country. A federal Reserve Chairman, equivalent to governor of our Reserve Bank, had an ailing wife in New York, but he himself lived in Washington. Since he couldn’t afford two homes, he lived in a single room in a hotel and commuted between New York and Washington every week-end. Can you imagine our babus or politicians doing that? Greed corrupts and corrodes not only the corrupt individuals but the whole system, and ultimately the nation. It was corruption that destroyed Rome and may destroy us also!

History of black day

‘Martyrs day’ is the first organised violence against the Kashmiri Pandits by the then Muslim Conference of Kashmir.

July 13, 1931, is linked with some heartrending happenings, which were the outcome of the conspiracy hatched by the imperialists who had created a communal frenzy to create hurdles on the path of achieving Independence of India and then worked for communal division of Bharat with a design for having a theoretic State of Pakistan.

The originator of July 13 incident was one Abdul Qadir who was not even a resident of the state and had come from Peshawar to Kashmir with a British high-up staying in Kashmir and his highly provocative speeches resulted in communal hostility. So he was arrested and charged with inciting communal passions. When the trial began on July 8, 1931, the majority community of the Valley took to streets in large numbers and the processions continued for days together. Fearing riots, the administration discontinued the open trial and decided to continue it in Central Jail.

On July 13, when the trial was to restart, a huge crowd gathered and at the arrival of the magistrate, the mob broke into the jail premises saying that they want to have a glimpse of Qadir. As the mob was not allowed to enter the jail premises, it turned violent and attacked minority Hindus, plundered their shops and looted their properties. When the situation went out of control, the state administration resorted to the use of the armed forces and in the firing some hoodlums from the rioting mob were killed. The Muslim Conference, now National Conference, declared them ‘martyrs’ of Kashmir.

Kashmiri Hindus organise protests, observe July 13 as black day

By Khajuria S Kant in Jammu


Kashmiriyat demands that the majority community should apologise for the horrendous acts of the black day and if they have any regard for minority sentiments, they should openly condemn the atrocities of July 13, as that day is celebrated to show appreciation to a fanatic and to keep the communal hatred alive.

Massive protest demonstrations were organised by Kashmiri Pandits in Jammu on July 13 to observe this day as a black day. July 13, 1931 marks the beginning of the first organised genocide of Kashmiri Pandits in Kashmir.

Kashmiri Pandits assembled in large numbers outside the Press Club of Jammu to register their protest against the observance of July 13 as the ‘martyrs day’ in the state. Wearing black badges, holding placards and shouting slogans, the protesters registered their outrage. On the occasion, a survivor and witness of the 1931 massacre, Radha Krishan Mattoo narrated the horror tales of that day, which occurred in his village Kanikote in Budgam district of Kashmir.

Seventy-eight years ago on July 13, 1931, the majority community in Kashmir rose in one body in support of a sheer communalist Abdul Qadir, who was not even a resident of the state and had come from Peshawar, now in Pakistan.

Radha Krishan said that earlier on June 21, 1931, Qadir made a blistering speech at Khan Kahi Moula asking the majority community members to rise against the Hindu King and massacre non-Muslims. Later, he was arrested and charged with inciting communal passions, he added.

He said Kashmiriyat demands that the majority community should apologise for the horrendous acts of that black day and if they have any regard for minority sentiments, they should openly condemn the atrocities of July 13, as the day is celebrated to show appreciation to a fanatic and to keep the communal hatred alive.

On the occasion, Prof RK Kaul, a noted scholar, also spoke about the horrors of 1931 and brought to light the enormity of the first organised brutal carnage of the Kashmiri Pandits by the then Muslim Conference of Kashmir. Shri Kaul scoffed at the so-called martyrs of 1931 and instead called the Kashmiri Pandit victims of the communal carnage the real martyrs.

Dr Agnishekhar, convener, while speaking on the occasion said that the process of genocide of Kashmiri Pandits began in 1931 and culminated in 1990 with the large-scale exodus of the entire population of our community. To observe July 13 as the ‘martyrs day’ in the state is an insult and grave injustice to the sufferings of the Kashmiri Pandits. The process of ethnic cleansing of the Kashmiri Pandits in Kashmir began with the advent of Muslim rule and there is no change in that mindset even in the 21st century. In 1931, the revolt against the then Maharaja of Kashmir was used as an alibi to perpetrate violence against the minorities in Kashmir.

He further stated that the most shameful aspect of the black day is that the aims and agendas of July 13, 1931, have continued to rule the minds and policies of this state for last 78 years including 61 years of Independence.

He expressed deep concern over the role of the so-called secularist politicians and bureaucrats for their soft approach towards terrorists and anti-national elements.

BJP state president, Ashok Khajuria took strong exception to CM’s statement in which he described July 13 as ‘martyrs day’. He strongly criticised the statement of Chief Minister, Omar Abdullah, saying that “NC is the torch-bearer of martyrs’ principles”. He further said that such a statement has hurt the sentiments of the nationalist forces in the state.

He remarked that such statements would only promote the cause of the separatists and encourage the anti-national elements. Such a statement, which has come from none other than the Chief Minister himself, is also an indication of the soft approach of the government towards all such elements who indulge in creating a wedge between Hindus and Muslims of the state and towards those who have been causing the communal tension in the state.

Making a Kashmir in Murshidabad, W. Bengal!

Fanatics plan to make Murshidabad and South 24 Parganas all Muslim districts

By Ranjit Roy

Muslim students and teachers had demanded their right to offer namaz inside school premises on Fridays. When refused, Muslims attacked and looted Hindu shops and houses and stabbed people only to terrorise Hindu community so that they are forced to flee from the two Muslim-dominated districts. This was exactly the strategy of Muslim League before the Partition.

Emboldened by unprecedented Muslim appeasements by three major political parties in West Bengal, the Congress, the Trinamool Congress and the CPM to get their votes during the last panchayat and parliamentary elections, fanatic Muslims are now planning to drive out Hindus from two Muslim dominated districts Murshidabad and South 24 Parganas. Worst communal riots have broken out in the two districts with the clear objective to make them all-Muslim districts. Interestingly, the issue that snowballed into major communal riots is identical in these two districts. Muslim students and teachers had demanded their right to offer namaz inside school premises on Fridays. When refused, Muslims attacked and looted Hindu shops and houses and stabbed people only to terrorise Hindu community so that they are forced to flee from the two Muslim dominated districts. This was exactly the strategy of Muslim League before the Partition.

The latest and possibly the worst kind of communal violence broke out in Murshidabad district’s Jhaubona and Trimohini areas under Beldanga Police station on July 10. Several Hindu villagers were stabbed and injured. Among the injured persons there were ten Policemen and an official in the rank of Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP). Two village markets and several Hindu houses were looted and burnt. Firing between police and Muslim rioters continued till wee hours of July 11. Curfew was imposed in the whole area and the BSF and the CRPF was deployed to help Police to maintain law and order. The entire troubled area was cordoned off by two companies of the BSF jawans since July 12. The administration showed a total blackout of information regarding casualty and the extent of damages done to Hindu establishments and houses. According to unconfirmed sources, altogether 12 people have died in communal violence and police firings.

Local residents feel that this may be an unique way of Muslims to welcom the finance minister, Pranab Mukherjee’s announcement to set up a special campus of Aligarh Muslim University in Murshidabad. This Aligarh Muslim University had spearheaded the movement for creation of Pakistan in 1946-47.

Communal violence had started following the rejection of unreasonable demand of the local Muslims to offer namaz inside the local Jhaobona High School premises on all Fridays. Jhaubona High School is a higher secondary school under Nawda Police Station in Beldanga subdivision of Murshidabad district. Among total 1,000 students of this school, about 50 per cent are Muslims. For long they were demanding to offer Friday namaz inside the school. But school management and the Hindu students resisted it apprehending that it will create a virtual mosque inside the school. So, the furious Muslim students forced the school management to stop Saraswati puja in the school.

But that did not satisfy the Muslim students. They held secret meetings with local Congress leaders and some Muslim clerics and resolved to hold namaz on Fridays inside the school premises despite objections of the school management. On July 10, around 12 noon Muslim students assembled to offer prayers by force inside the school premises without permission from Head Master or school management. Hindu students protested and altercations started between two groups of students. Muslim students using their cell phones, spread rumours that Hindu students had attacked them in the school. Within 10-15 minutes, thousands of Muslims led by students of nearby Trimohini madrasa reached the school premises. They attacked the Hindu students and Hindu teachers and started beating them mercilessly. Hindu shops in the Trimohini market were burnt and looted. Many Hindu houses were ransacked and set on fire in Jhaubona and Garapara. Night curfew was imposed in the area following the incident of burning two buses and a matador van.

Major communal violence in West Bengal in 2009

A Hindu female devotee was molested by four Muslim youth while she was returning from a Siva temple in the Masterpara area in Asansol on January 9 morning. This led to a major communal riot.

Central part of Kolkata witnessed an unprecedented Muslim violence on February 8 following publication of an article on religion in English daily The Statesman.

A gang of Muslim goons molested a Hindu girl at Belgachia in north Kolkata and that led to communal clashes on April 21.

An identical communal violence had also broken out in the Joynagar area in South 24 Parganas on June 22. Here four Muslim teachers of West Gabberia High School had demanded that a large room of the school building should be allocated by the school management to offer namaz on all Fridays. When the management refused to accept their unreasonable demand, the four teachers immediately contacted local Muslim clerics and asked them to intervene. Within hours thousands of armed Muslim mob gathered outside the school premises and attacked Hindu students and teachers. They ransacked and damaged the school building and then they entered West Gabberia village and stabbed Hindu villagers. Joynagar in South 24 Parganas is a Muslim dominated subdivision where West Gabberia is a lone Hindu majority village.

No doubt, a deep rooted conspiracy has been hatched in these two Muslim majority districts bordering Bangladesh to make them exclusive Muslim districts so that the areas could be a part of Islamic Bangladesh.

The dark side of Dubai

Johann Hari


The wide, smiling face of Sheikh Mohammed – the absolute ruler of Dubai – beams down on his creation. His image is displayed on every other building, sandwiched between the more familiar corporate rictuses of Ronald McDonald and Colonel Sanders. This man has sold Dubai to the world as the city of One Thousand and One Arabian Lights, a Shangri-La in the Middle East insulated from the dust-storms blasting across the region. He dominates the Manhattan-manqué skyline, beaming out from row after row of glass pyramids and hotels smelted into the shape of piles of golden coins. And there he stands on the tallest building in the world – a skinny spike, jabbing farther into the sky than any other human construction in history.


But something has flickered in Sheikh Mohammed's smile. The ubiquitous cranes have paused on the skyline, as if stuck in time. There are countless buildings half-finished, seemingly abandoned. In the swankiest new constructions – like the vast Atlantis hotel, a giant pink castle built in 1,000 days for $1.5bn on its own artificial island – where rainwater is leaking from the ceilings and the tiles are falling off the roof. This Neverland was built on the Never-Never – and now the cracks are beginning to show. Suddenly it looks less like Manhattan in the sun than Iceland in the desert.

Once the manic burst of building has stopped and the whirlwind has slowed, the secrets of Dubai are slowly seeping out. This is a city built from nothing in just a few wild decades on credit and ecocide, suppression and slavery. Dubai is a living metal metaphor for the neo-liberal globalised world that may be crashing – at last – into history.

Related articles
The Desert Blogger: Jamie Stewart's dispatches from Dubai

I. An Adult Disneyland


Karen Andrews can't speak. Every time she starts to tell her story, she puts her head down and crumples. She is slim and angular and has the faded radiance of the once-rich, even though her clothes are as creased as her forehead. I find her in the car park of one of Dubai's finest international hotels, where she is living, in her Range Rover. She has been sleeping here for months, thanks to the kindness of the Bangladeshi car park attendants who don't have the heart to move her on. This is not where she thought her Dubai dream would end.

Her story comes out in stutters, over four hours. At times, her old voice – witty and warm – breaks through. Karen came here from Canada when her husband was offered a job in the senior division of a famous multinational. "When he said Dubai, I said – if you want me to wear black and quit booze, baby, you've got the wrong girl. But he asked me to give it a chance. And I loved him."

All her worries melted when she touched down in Dubai in 2005. "It was an adult Disneyland, where Sheikh Mohammed is the mouse," she says. "Life was fantastic. You had these amazing big apartments, you had a whole army of your own staff, you pay no taxes at all. It seemed like everyone was a CEO. We were partying the whole time."

Her husband, Daniel, bought two properties. "We were drunk on Dubai," she says. But for the first time in his life, he was beginning to mismanage their finances. "We're not talking huge sums, but he was getting confused. It was so unlike Daniel, I was surprised. We got into a little bit of debt." After a year, she found out why: Daniel was diagnosed with a brain tumour.

One doctor told him he had a year to live; another said it was benign and he'd be okay. But the debts were growing. "Before I came here, I didn't know anything about Dubai law. I assumed if all these big companies come here, it must be pretty like Canada's or any other liberal democracy's," she says. Nobody told her there is no concept of bankruptcy. If you get into debt and you can't pay, you go to prison.

"When we realised that, I sat Daniel down and told him: listen, we need to get out of here. He knew he was guaranteed a pay-off when he resigned, so we said – right, let's take the pay-off, clear the debt, and go." So Daniel resigned – but he was given a lower pay-off than his contract suggested. The debt remained. As soon as you quit your job in Dubai, your employer has to inform your bank. If you have any outstanding debts that aren't covered by your savings, then all your accounts are frozen, and you are forbidden to leave the country.

"Suddenly our cards stopped working. We had nothing. We were thrown out of our apartment." Karen can't speak about what happened next for a long time; she is shaking.

Daniel was arrested and taken away on the day of their eviction. It was six days before she could talk to him. "He told me he was put in a cell with another debtor, a Sri Lankan guy who was only 27, who said he couldn't face the shame to his family. Daniel woke up and the boy had swallowed razor-blades. He banged for help, but nobody came, and the boy died in front of him."

Karen managed to beg from her friends for a few weeks, "but it was so humiliating. I've never lived like this. I worked in the fashion industry. I had my own shops. I've never..." She peters out.

Daniel was sentenced to six months' imprisonment at a trial he couldn't understand. It was in Arabic, and there was no translation. "Now I'm here illegally, too," Karen says I've got no money, nothing. I have to last nine months until he's out, somehow." Looking away, almost paralysed with embarrassment, she asks if I could buy her a meal.

She is not alone. All over the city, there are maxed-out expats sleeping secretly in the sand-dunes or the airport or in their cars.

"The thing you have to understand about Dubai is – nothing is what it seems," Karen says at last. "Nothing. This isn't a city, it's a con-job. They lure you in telling you it's one thing – a modern kind of place – but beneath the surface it's a medieval dictatorship."


II. Tumbleweed


Thirty years ago, almost all of contemporary Dubai was desert, inhabited only by cactuses and tumbleweed and scorpions. But downtown there are traces of the town that once was, buried amidst the metal and glass. In the dusty fort of the Dubai Museum, a sanitised version of this story is told.

In the mid-18th century, a small village was built here, in the lower Persian Gulf, where people would dive for pearls off the coast. It soon began to accumulate a cosmopolitan population washing up from Persia, the Indian subcontinent, and other Arab countries, all hoping to make their fortune. They named it after a local locust, the daba, who consumed everything before it. The town was soon seized by the gunships of the British Empire, who held it by the throat as late as 1971. As they scuttled away, Dubai decided to ally with the six surrounding states and make up the United Arab Emirates (UAE).

The British quit, exhausted, just as oil was being discovered, and the sheikhs who suddenly found themselves in charge faced a remarkable dilemma. They were largely illiterate nomads who spent their lives driving camels through the desert – yet now they had a vast pot of gold. What should they do with it?

Dubai only had a dribble of oil compared to neighbouring Abu Dhabi – so Sheikh Maktoum decided to use the revenues to build something that would last. Israel used to boast it made the desert bloom; Sheikh Maktoum resolved to make the desert boom. He would build a city to be a centre of tourism and financial services, sucking up cash and talent from across the globe. He invited the world to come tax-free – and they came in their millions, swamping the local population, who now make up just 5 per cent of Dubai. A city seemed to fall from the sky in just three decades, whole and complete and swelling. They fast-forwarded from the 18th century to the 21st in a single generation.

If you take the Big Bus Tour of Dubai – the passport to a pre-processed experience of every major city on earth – you are fed the propaganda-vision of how this happened. "Dubai's motto is 'Open doors, open minds'," the tour guide tells you in clipped tones, before depositing you at the souks to buy camel tea-cosies. "Here you are free. To purchase fabrics," he adds. As you pass each new monumental building, he tells you: "The World Trade Centre was built by His Highness..."

But this is a lie. The sheikh did not build this city. It was built by slaves. They are building it now.


III. Hidden in plain view


There are three different Dubais, all swirling around each other. There are the expats, like Karen; there are the Emiratis, headed by Sheikh Mohammed; and then there is the foreign underclass who built the city, and are trapped here. They are hidden in plain view. You see them everywhere, in dirt-caked blue uniforms, being shouted at by their superiors, like a chain gang – but you are trained not to look. It is like a mantra: the Sheikh built the city. The Sheikh built the city. Workers? What workers?

Every evening, the hundreds of thousands of young men who build Dubai are bussed from their sites to a vast concrete wasteland an hour out of town, where they are quarantined away. Until a few years ago they were shuttled back and forth on cattle trucks, but the expats complained this was unsightly, so now they are shunted on small metal buses that function like greenhouses in the desert heat. They sweat like sponges being slowly wrung out.

Sonapur is a rubble-strewn patchwork of miles and miles of identical concrete buildings. Some 300,000 men live piled up here, in a place whose name in Hindi means "City of Gold". In the first camp I stop at – riven with the smell of sewage and sweat – the men huddle around, eager to tell someone, anyone, what is happening to them.

Sahinal Monir, a slim 24-year-old from the deltas of Bangladesh. "To get you here, they tell you Dubai is heaven. Then you get here and realise it is hell," he says. Four years ago, an employment agent arrived in Sahinal's village in Southern Bangladesh. He told the men of the village that there was a place where they could earn 40,000 takka a month (£400) just for working nine-to-five on construction projects. It was a place where they would be given great accommodation, great food, and treated well. All they had to do was pay an up-front fee of 220,000 takka (£2,300) for the work visa – a fee they'd pay off in the first six months, easy. So Sahinal sold his family land, and took out a loan from the local lender, to head to this paradise.

As soon as he arrived at Dubai airport, his passport was taken from him by his construction company. He has not seen it since. He was told brusquely that from now on he would be working 14-hour days in the desert heat – where western tourists are advised not to stay outside for even five minutes in summer, when it hits 55 degrees – for 500 dirhams a month (£90), less than a quarter of the wage he was promised. If you don't like it, the company told him, go home. "But how can I go home? You have my passport, and I have no money for the ticket," he said. "Well, then you'd better get to work," they replied.

Sahinal was in a panic. His family back home – his son, daughter, wife and parents – were waiting for money, excited that their boy had finally made it. But he was going to have to work for more than two years just to pay for the cost of getting here – and all to earn less than he did in Bangladesh.

He shows me his room. It is a tiny, poky, concrete cell with triple-decker bunk-beds, where he lives with 11 other men. All his belongings are piled onto his bunk: three shirts, a spare pair of trousers, and a cellphone. The room stinks, because the lavatories in the corner of the camp – holes in the ground – are backed up with excrement and clouds of black flies. There is no air conditioning or fans, so the heat is "unbearable. You cannot sleep. All you do is sweat and scratch all night." At the height of summer, people sleep on the floor, on the roof, anywhere where they can pray for a moment of breeze.

The water delivered to the camp in huge white containers isn't properly desalinated: it tastes of salt. "It makes us sick, but we have nothing else to drink," he says.

The work is "the worst in the world," he says. "You have to carry 50kg bricks and blocks of cement in the worst heat imaginable ... This heat – it is like nothing else. You sweat so much you can't pee, not for days or weeks. It's like all the liquid comes out through your skin and you stink. You become dizzy and sick but you aren't allowed to stop, except for an hour in the afternoon. You know if you drop anything or slip, you could die. If you take time off sick, your wages are docked, and you are trapped here even longer."

He is currently working on the 67th floor of a shiny new tower, where he builds upwards, into the sky, into the heat. He doesn't know its name. In his four years here, he has never seen the Dubai of tourist-fame, except as he constructs it floor-by-floor.

Is he angry? He is quiet for a long time. "Here, nobody shows their anger. You can't. You get put in jail for a long time, then deported." Last year, some workers went on strike after they were not given their wages for four months. The Dubai police surrounded their camps with razor-wire and water-cannons and blasted them out and back to work.

The "ringleaders" were imprisoned. I try a different question: does Sohinal regret coming? All the men look down, awkwardly. "How can we think about that? We are trapped. If we start to think about regrets..." He lets the sentence trail off. Eventually, another worker breaks the silence by adding: "I miss my country, my family and my land. We can grow food in Bangladesh. Here, nothing grows. Just oil and buildings."

Since the recession hit, they say, the electricity has been cut off in dozens of the camps, and the men have not been paid for months. Their companies have disappeared with their passports and their pay. "We have been robbed of everything. Even if somehow we get back to Bangladesh, the loan sharks will demand we repay our loans immediately, and when we can't, we'll be sent to prison."

This is all supposed to be illegal. Employers are meant to pay on time, never take your passport, give you breaks in the heat – but I met nobody who said it happens. Not one. These men are conned into coming and trapped into staying, with the complicity of the Dubai authorities.

Sahinal could well die out here. A British man who used to work on construction projects told me: "There's a huge number of suicides in the camps and on the construction sites, but they're not reported. They're described as 'accidents'." Even then, their families aren't free: they simply inherit the debts. A Human Rights Watch study found there is a "cover-up of the true extent" of deaths from heat exhaustion, overwork and suicide, but the Indian consulate registered 971 deaths of their nationals in 2005 alone. After this figure was leaked, the consulates were told to stop counting.

At night, in the dusk, I sit in the camp with Sohinal and his friends as they scrape together what they have left to buy a cheap bottle of spirits. They down it in one ferocious gulp. "It helps you to feel numb", Sohinal says through a stinging throat. In the distance, the glistening Dubai skyline he built stands, oblivious.


IV. Mauled by the mall


I find myself stumbling in a daze from the camps into the sprawling marble malls that seem to stand on every street in Dubai. It is so hot there is no point building pavements; people gather in these cathedrals of consumerism to bask in the air conditioning. So within a ten minute taxi-ride, I have left Sohinal and I am standing in the middle of Harvey Nichols, being shown a £20,000 taffeta dress by a bored salesgirl. "As you can see, it is cut on the bias..." she says, and I stop writing.

Time doesn't seem to pass in the malls. Days blur with the same electric light, the same shined floors, the same brands I know from home. Here, Dubai is reduced to its component sounds: do-buy. In the most expensive malls I am almost alone, the shops empty and echoing. On the record, everybody tells me business is going fine. Off the record, they look panicky. There is a hat exhibition ahead of the Dubai races, selling elaborate headgear for £1,000 a pop. "Last year, we were packed. Now look," a hat designer tells me. She swoops her arm over a vacant space.

I approach a blonde 17-year-old Dutch girl wandering around in hotpants, oblivious to the swarms of men gaping at her. "I love it here!" she says. "The heat, the malls, the beach!" Does it ever bother you that it's a slave society? She puts her head down, just as Sohinal did. "I try not to see," she says. Even at 17, she has learned not to look, and not to ask; that, she senses, is a transgression too far.

Between the malls, there is nothing but the connecting tissue of asphalt. Every road has at least four lanes; Dubai feels like a motorway punctuated by shopping centres. You only walk anywhere if you are suicidal. The residents of Dubai flit from mall to mall by car or taxis.

How does it feel if this is your country, filled with foreigners? Unlike the expats and the slave class, I can't just approach the native Emiratis to ask questions when I see them wandering around – the men in cool white robes, the women in sweltering black. If you try, the women blank you, and the men look affronted, and tell you brusquely that Dubai is "fine". So I browse through the Emirati blog-scene and found some typical-sounding young Emiratis. We meet – where else? – in the mall.

Ahmed al-Atar is a handsome 23-year-old with a neat, trimmed beard, tailored white robes, and rectangular wire-glasses. He speaks perfect American-English, and quickly shows that he knows London, Los Angeles and Paris better than most westerners. Sitting back in his chair in an identikit Starbucks, he announces: "This is the best place in the world to be young! The government pays for your education up to PhD level. You get given a free house when you get married. You get free healthcare, and if it's not good enough here, they pay for you to go abroad. You don't even have to pay for your phone calls. Almost everyone has a maid, a nanny, and a driver. And we never pay any taxes. Don't you wish you were Emirati?"

I try to raise potential objections to this Panglossian summary, but he leans forward and says: "Look – my grandfather woke up every day and he would have to fight to get to the well first to get water. When the wells ran dry, they had to have water delivered by camel. They were always hungry and thirsty and desperate for jobs. He limped all his life, because he there was no medical treatment available when he broke his leg. Now look at us!"

For Emiratis, this is a Santa Claus state, handing out goodies while it makes its money elsewhere: through renting out land to foreigners, soft taxes on them like business and airport charges, and the remaining dribble of oil. Most Emiratis, like Ahmed, work for the government, so they're cushioned from the credit crunch. "I haven't felt any effect at all, and nor have my friends," he says. "Your employment is secure. You will only be fired if you do something incredibly bad." The laws are currently being tightened, to make it even more impossible to sack an Emirati.

Sure, the flooding-in of expats can sometimes be "an eyesore", Ahmed says. "But we see the expats as the price we had to pay for this development. How else could we do it? Nobody wants to go back to the days of the desert, the days before everyone came. We went from being like an African country to having an average income per head of $120,000 a year. And we're supposed to complain?"

He says the lack of political freedom is fine by him. "You'll find it very hard to find an Emirati who doesn't support Sheikh Mohammed." Because they're scared? "No, because we really all support him. He's a great leader. Just look!" He smiles and says: "I'm sure my life is very much like yours. We hang out, have a coffee, go to the movies. You'll be in a Pizza Hut or Nando's in London, and at the same time I'll be in one in Dubai," he says, ordering another latte.

But do all young Emiratis see it this way? Can it really be so sunny in the political sands? In the sleek Emirates Tower Hotel, I meet Sultan al-Qassemi. He's a 31-year-old Emirati columnist for the Dubai press and private art collector, with a reputation for being a contrarian liberal, advocating gradual reform. He is wearing Western clothes – blue jeans and a Ralph Lauren shirt – and speaks incredibly fast, turning himself into a manic whirr of arguments.

"People here are turning into lazy, overweight babies!" he exclaims. "The nanny state has gone too far. We don't do anything for ourselves! Why don't any of us work for the private sector? Why can't a mother and father look after their own child?" And yet, when I try to bring up the system of slavery that built Dubai, he looks angry. "People should give us credit," he insists. "We are the most tolerant people in the world. Dubai is the only truly international city in the world. Everyone who comes here is treated with respect."

I pause, and think of the vast camps in Sonapur, just a few miles away. Does he even know they exist? He looks irritated. "You know, if there are 30 or 40 cases [of worker abuse] a year, that sounds like a lot but when you think about how many people are here..." Thirty or 40? This abuse is endemic to the system, I say. We're talking about hundreds of thousands.

Sultan is furious. He splutters: "You don't think Mexicans are treated badly in New York City? And how long did it take Britain to treat people well? I could come to London and write about the homeless people on Oxford Street and make your city sound like a terrible place, too! The workers here can leave any time they want! Any Indian can leave, any Asian can leave!"

But they can't, I point out. Their passports are taken away, and their wages are withheld. "Well, I feel bad if that happens, and anybody who does that should be punished. But their embassies should help them." They try. But why do you forbid the workers – with force – from going on strike against lousy employers? "Thank God we don't allow that!" he exclaims. "Strikes are in-convenient! They go on the street – we're not having that. We won't be like France. Imagine a country where they the workers can just stop whenever they want!" So what should the workers do when they are cheated and lied to? "Quit. Leave the country."

I sigh. Sultan is seething now. "People in the West are always complaining about us," he says. Suddenly, he adopts a mock-whiny voice and says, in imitation of these disgusting critics: "Why don't you treat animals better? Why don't you have better shampoo advertising? Why don't you treat labourers better?" It's a revealing order: animals, shampoo, then workers. He becomes more heated, shifting in his seat, jabbing his finger at me. "I gave workers who worked for me safety goggles and special boots, and they didn't want to wear them! It slows them down!"

And then he smiles, coming up with what he sees as his killer argument. "When I see Western journalists criticise us – don't you realise you're shooting yourself in the foot? The Middle East will be far more dangerous if Dubai fails. Our export isn't oil, it's hope. Poor Egyptians or Libyans or Iranians grow up saying – I want to go to Dubai. We're very important to the region. We are showing how to be a modern Muslim country. We don't have any fundamentalists here. Europeans shouldn't gloat at our demise. You should be very worried.... Do you know what will happen if this model fails? Dubai will go down the Iranian path, the Islamist path."

Sultan sits back. My arguments have clearly disturbed him; he says in a softer, conciliatory tone, almost pleading: "Listen. My mother used to go to the well and get a bucket of water every morning. On her wedding day, she was given an orange as a gift because she had never eaten one. Two of my brothers died when they were babies because the healthcare system hadn't developed yet. Don't judge us." He says it again, his eyes filled with intensity: "Don't judge us."


V. The Dunkin' Donuts Dissidents


But there is another face to the Emirati minority – a small huddle of dissidents, trying to shake the Sheikhs out of abusive laws. Next to a Virgin Megastore and a Dunkin' Donuts, with James Blunt's "You're Beautiful" blaring behind me, I meet the Dubai dictatorship's Public Enemy Number One. By way of introduction, Mohammed al-Mansoori says from within his white robes and sinewy face: "Westerners come her and see the malls and the tall buildings and they think that means we are free. But these businesses, these buildings – who are they for? This is a dictatorship. The royal family think they own the country, and the people are their servants. There is no freedom here."

We snuffle out the only Arabic restaurant in this mall, and he says everything you are banned – under threat of prison – from saying in Dubai. Mohammed tells me he was born in Dubai to a fisherman father who taught him one enduring lesson: Never follow the herd. Think for yourself. In the sudden surge of development, Mohammed trained as a lawyer. By the Noughties, he had climbed to the head of the Jurists' Association, an organisation set up to press for Dubai's laws to be consistent with international human rights legislation.

And then – suddenly – Mohammed thwacked into the limits of Sheikh Mohammed's tolerance. Horrified by the "system of slavery" his country was being built on, he spoke out to Human Rights Watch and the BBC. "So I was hauled in by the secret police and told: shut up, or you will lose you job, and your children will be unemployable," he says. "But how could I be silent?"

He was stripped of his lawyer's licence and his passport – becoming yet another person imprisoned in this country. "I have been blacklisted and so have my children. The newspapers are not allowed to write about me."

Why is the state so keen to defend this system of slavery? He offers a prosaic explanation. "Most companies are owned by the government, so they oppose human rights laws because it will reduce their profit margins. It's in their interests that the workers are slaves."

Last time there was a depression, there was a starbust of democracy in Dubai, seized by force from the sheikhs. In the 1930s, the city's merchants banded together against Sheikh Said bin Maktum al-Maktum – the absolute ruler of his day – and insisted they be given control over the state finances. It lasted only a few years, before the Sheikh – with the enthusiastic support of the British – snuffed them out.

And today? Sheikh Mohammed turned Dubai into Creditopolis, a city built entirely on debt. Dubai owes 107 percent of its entire GDP. It would be bust already, if the neighbouring oil-soaked state of Abu Dhabi hadn't pulled out its chequebook. Mohammed says this will constrict freedom even further. "Now Abu Dhabi calls the tunes – and they are much more conservative and restrictive than even Dubai. Freedom here will diminish every day." Already, new media laws have been drafted forbidding the press to report on anything that could "damage" Dubai or "its economy". Is this why the newspapers are giving away glossy supplements talking about "encouraging economic indicators"?

Everybody here waves Islamism as the threat somewhere over the horizon, sure to swell if their advice is not followed. Today, every imam is appointed by the government, and every sermon is tightly controlled to keep it moderate. But Mohammed says anxiously: "We don't have Islamism here now, but I think that if you control people and give them no way to express anger, it could rise. People who are told to shut up all the time can just explode."

Later that day, against another identikit-corporate backdrop, I meet another dissident – Abdulkhaleq Abdullah, Professor of Political Science at Emirates University. His anger focuses not on political reform, but the erosion of Emirati identity. He is famous among the locals, a rare outspoken conductor for their anger. He says somberly: "There has been a rupture here. This is a totally different city to the one I was born in 50 years ago."

He looks around at the shiny floors and Western tourists and says: "What we see now didn't occur in our wildest dreams. We never thought we could be such a success, a trendsetter, a model for other Arab countries. The people of Dubai are mighty proud of their city, and rightly so. And yet..." He shakes his head. "In our hearts, we fear we have built a modern city but we are losing it to all these expats."

Adbulkhaleq says every Emirati of his generation lives with a "psychological trauma." Their hearts are divided – "between pride on one side, and fear on the other." Just after he says this, a smiling waitress approaches, and asks us what we would like to drink. He orders a Coke.


VI. Dubai Pride


There is one group in Dubai for whom the rhetoric of sudden freedom and liberation rings true – but it is the very group the government wanted to liberate least: gays.

Beneath a famous international hotel, I clamber down into possibly the only gay club on the Saudi Arabian peninsula. I find a United Nations of tank-tops and bulging biceps, dancing to Kylie, dropping ecstasy, and partying like it's Soho. "Dubai is the best place in the Muslim world for gays!" a 25-year old Emirati with spiked hair says, his arms wrapped around his 31-year old "husband". "We are alive. We can meet. That is more than most Arab gays."

It is illegal to be gay in Dubai, and punishable by 10 years in prison. But the locations of the latest unofficial gay clubs circulate online, and men flock there, seemingly unafraid of the police. "They might bust the club, but they will just disperse us," one of them says. "The police have other things to do."

In every large city, gay people find a way to find each other – but Dubai has become the clearing-house for the region's homosexuals, a place where they can live in relative safety. Saleh, a lean private in the Saudi Arabian army, has come here for the Coldplay concert, and tells me Dubai is "great" for gays: "In Saudi, it's hard to be straight when you're young. The women are shut away so everyone has gay sex. But they only want to have sex with boys – 15- to 21-year-olds. I'm 27, so I'm too old now. I need to find real gays, so this is the best place. All Arab gays want to live in Dubai."

With that, Saleh dances off across the dancefloor, towards a Dutch guy with big biceps and a big smile.


VII. The Lifestyle


All the guidebooks call Dubai a "melting pot", but as I trawl across the city, I find that every group here huddles together in its own little ethnic enclave – and becomes a caricature of itself. One night – in the heart of this homesick city, tired of the malls and the camps – I go to Double Decker, a hang-out for British expats. At the entrance there is a red telephone box, and London bus-stop signs. Its wooden interior looks like a cross between a colonial clubhouse in the Raj and an Eighties school disco, with blinking coloured lights and cheese blaring out. As I enter, a girl in a short skirt collapses out of the door onto her back. A guy wearing a pirate hat helps her to her feet, dropping his beer bottle with a paralytic laugh.

I start to talk to two sun-dried women in their sixties who have been getting gently sozzled since midday. "You stay here for The Lifestyle," they say, telling me to take a seat and order some more drinks. All the expats talk about The Lifestyle, but when you ask what it is, they become vague. Ann Wark tries to summarise it: "Here, you go out every night. You'd never do that back home. You see people all the time. It's great. You have lots of free time. You have maids and staff so you don't have to do all that stuff. You party!"

They have been in Dubai for 20 years, and they are happy to explain how the city works. "You've got a hierarchy, haven't you?" Ann says. "It's the Emiratis at the top, then I'd say the British and other Westerners. Then I suppose it's the Filipinos, because they've got a bit more brains than the Indians. Then at the bottom you've got the Indians and all them lot."

They admit, however, they have "never" spoken to an Emirati. Never? "No. They keep themselves to themselves." Yet Dubai has disappointed them. Jules Taylor tells me: "If you have an accident here it's a nightmare. There was a British woman we knew who ran over an Indian guy, and she was locked up for four days! If you have a tiny bit of alcohol on your breath they're all over you. These Indians throw themselves in front of cars, because then their family has to be given blood money – you know, compensation. But the police just blame us. That poor woman."

A 24-year-old British woman called Hannah Gamble takes a break from the dancefloor to talk to me. "I love the sun and the beach! It's great out here!" she says. Is there anything bad? "Oh yes!" she says. Ah: one of them has noticed, I think with relief. "The banks! When you want to make a transfer you have to fax them. You can't do it online." Anything else? She thinks hard. "The traffic's not very good."

When I ask the British expats how they feel to not be in a democracy, their reaction is always the same. First, they look bemused. Then they look affronted. "It's the Arab way!" an Essex boy shouts at me in response, as he tries to put a pair of comedy antlers on his head while pouring some beer into the mouth of his friend, who is lying on his back on the floor, gurning.

Later, in a hotel bar, I start chatting to a dyspeptic expat American who works in the cosmetics industry and is desperate to get away from these people. She says: "All the people who couldn't succeed in their own countries end up here, and suddenly they're rich and promoted way above their abilities and bragging about how great they are. I've never met so many incompetent people in such senior positions anywhere in the world." She adds: "It's absolutely racist. I had Filipino girls working for me doing the same job as a European girl, and she's paid a quarter of the wages. The people who do the real work are paid next to nothing, while these incompetent managers pay themselves £40,000 a month."

With the exception of her, one theme unites every expat I speak to: their joy at having staff to do the work that would clog their lives up Back Home. Everyone, it seems, has a maid. The maids used to be predominantly Filipino, but with the recession, Filipinos have been judged to be too expensive, so a nice Ethiopian servant girl is the latest fashionable accessory.

It is an open secret that once you hire a maid, you have absolute power over her. You take her passport – everyone does; you decide when to pay her, and when – if ever – she can take a break; and you decide who she talks to. She speaks no Arabic. She cannot escape.

In a Burger King, a Filipino girl tells me it is "terrifying" for her to wander the malls in Dubai because Filipino maids or nannies always sneak away from the family they are with and beg her for help. "They say – 'Please, I am being held prisoner, they don't let me call home, they make me work every waking hour seven days a week.' At first I would say – my God, I will tell the consulate, where are you staying? But they never know their address, and the consulate isn't interested. I avoid them now. I keep thinking about a woman who told me she hadn't eaten any fruit in four years. They think I have power because I can walk around on my own, but I'm powerless."

The only hostel for women in Dubai – a filthy private villa on the brink of being repossessed – is filled with escaped maids. Mela Matari, a 25-year-old Ethiopian woman with a drooping smile, tells me what happened to her – and thousands like her. She was promised a paradise in the sands by an agency, so she left her four year-old daughter at home and headed here to earn money for a better future. "But they paid me half what they promised. I was put with an Australian family – four children – and Madam made me work from 6am to 1am every day, with no day off. I was exhausted and pleaded for a break, but they just shouted: 'You came here to work, not sleep!' Then one day I just couldn't go on, and Madam beat me. She beat me with her fists and kicked me. My ear still hurts. They wouldn't give me my wages: they said they'd pay me at the end of the two years. What could I do? I didn't know anybody here. I was terrified."

One day, after yet another beating, Mela ran out onto the streets, and asked – in broken English – how to find the Ethiopian consulate. After walking for two days, she found it, but they told her she had to get her passport back from Madam. "Well, how could I?" she asks. She has been in this hostel for six months. She has spoken to her daughter twice. "I lost my country, I lost my daughter, I lost everything," she says.

As she says this, I remember a stray sentence I heard back at Double Decker. I asked a British woman called Hermione Frayling what the best thing about Dubai was. "Oh, the servant class!" she trilled. "You do nothing. They'll do anything!"


VIII. The End of The World


The World is empty. It has been abandoned, its continents unfinished. Through binoculars, I think I can glimpse Britain; this sceptred isle barren in the salt-breeze.

Here, off the coast of Dubai, developers have been rebuilding the world. They have constructed artificial islands in the shape of all planet Earth's land masses, and they plan to sell each continent off to be built on. There were rumours that the Beckhams would bid for Britain. But the people who work at the nearby coast say they haven't seen anybody there for months now. "The World is over," a South African suggests.

All over Dubai, crazy projects that were Under Construction are now Under Collapse. They were building an air-conditioned beach here, with cooling pipes running below the sand, so the super-rich didn't singe their toes on their way from towel to sea.

The projects completed just before the global economy crashed look empty and tattered. The Atlantis Hotel was launched last winter in a $20m fin-de-siecle party attended by Robert De Niro, Lindsay Lohan and Lily Allen. Sitting on its own fake island – shaped, of course, like a palm tree – it looks like an immense upturned tooth in a faintly decaying mouth. It is pink and turreted – the architecture of the pharaohs, as reimagined by Zsa-Zsa Gabor. Its Grand Lobby is a monumental dome covered in glitterballs, held up by eight monumental concrete palm trees. Standing in the middle, there is a giant shining glass structure that looks like the intestines of every guest who has ever stayed at the Atlantis. It is unexpectedly raining; water is leaking from the roof, and tiles are falling off.

A South African PR girl shows me around its most coveted rooms, explaining that this is "the greatest luxury offered in the world". We stroll past shops selling £24m diamond rings around a hotel themed on the lost and sunken continent of, yes, Atlantis. There are huge water tanks filled with sharks, which poke around mock-abandoned castles and dumped submarines. There are more than 1,500 rooms here, each with a sea view. The Neptune suite has three floors, and – I gasp as I see it – it looks out directly on to the vast shark tank. You lie on the bed, and the sharks stare in at you. In Dubai, you can sleep with the fishes, and survive.

But even the luxury – reminiscent of a Bond villain's lair – is also being abandoned. I check myself in for a few nights to the classiest hotel in town, the Park Hyatt. It is the fashionistas' favourite hotel, where Elle Macpherson and Tommy Hilfiger stay, a gorgeous, understated palace. It feels empty. Whenever I eat, I am one of the only people in the restaurant. A staff member tells me in a whisper: "It used to be full here. Now there's hardly anyone." Rattling around, I feel like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, the last man in an abandoned, haunted home.

The most famous hotel in Dubai – the proud icon of the city – is the Burj al Arab hotel, sitting on the shore, shaped like a giant glass sailing boat. In the lobby, I start chatting to a couple from London who work in the City. They have been coming to Dubai for 10 years now, and they say they love it. "You never know what you'll find here," he says. "On our last trip, at the beginning of the holiday, our window looked out on the sea. By the end, they'd built an entire island there."

My patience frayed by all this excess, I find myself snapping: doesn't the omnipresent slave class bother you? I hope they misunderstood me, because the woman replied: "That's what we come for! It's great, you can't do anything for yourself!" Her husband chimes in: "When you go to the toilet, they open the door, they turn on the tap – the only thing they don't do is take it out for you when you have a piss!" And they both fall about laughing.


IX. Taking on the Desert


Dubai is not just a city living beyond its financial means; it is living beyond its ecological means. You stand on a manicured Dubai lawn and watch the sprinklers spray water all around you. You see tourists flocking to swim with dolphins. You wander into a mountain-sized freezer where they have built a ski slope with real snow. And a voice at the back of your head squeaks: this is the desert. This is the most water-stressed place on the planet. How can this be happening? How is it possible?

The very earth is trying to repel Dubai, to dry it up and blow it away. The new Tiger Woods Gold Course needs four million gallons of water to be pumped on to its grounds every day, or it would simply shrivel and disappear on the winds. The city is regularly washed over with dust-storms that fog up the skies and turn the skyline into a blur. When the dust parts, heat burns through. It cooks anything that is not kept constantly, artificially wet.

Dr Mohammed Raouf, the environmental director of the Gulf Research Centre, sounds sombre as he sits in his Dubai office and warns: "This is a desert area, and we are trying to defy its environment. It is very unwise. If you take on the desert, you will lose."

Sheikh Maktoum built his showcase city in a place with no useable water. None. There is no surface water, very little acquifer, and among the lowest rainfall in the world. So Dubai drinks the sea. The Emirates' water is stripped of salt in vast desalination plants around the Gulf – making it the most expensive water on earth. It costs more than petrol to produce, and belches vast amounts of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere as it goes. It's the main reason why a resident of Dubai has the biggest average carbon footprint of any human being – more than double that of an American.

If a recession turns into depression, Dr Raouf believes Dubai could run out of water. "At the moment, we have financial reserves that cover bringing so much water to the middle of the desert. But if we had lower revenues – if, say, the world shifts to a source of energy other than oil..." he shakes his head. "We will have a very big problem. Water is the main source of life. It would be a catastrophe. Dubai only has enough water to last us a week. There's almost no storage. We don't know what will happen if our supplies falter. It would be hard to survive."

Global warming, he adds, makes the problem even worse. "We are building all these artificial islands, but if the sea level rises, they will be gone, and we will lose a lot. Developers keep saying it's all fine, they've taken it into consideration, but I'm not so sure."

Is the Dubai government concerned about any of this? "There isn't much interest in these problems," he says sadly. But just to stand still, the average resident of Dubai needs three times more water than the average human. In the looming century of water stresses and a transition away from fossil fuels, Dubai is uniquely vulnerable.

I wanted to understand how the government of Dubai will react, so I decided to look at how it has dealt with an environmental problem that already exists – the pollution of its beaches. One woman – an American, working at one of the big hotels – had written in a lot of online forums arguing that it was bad and getting worse, so I called her to arrange a meeting. "I can't talk to you," she said sternly. Not even if it's off the record? "I can't talk to you." But I don't have to disclose your name... "You're not listening. This phone is bugged. I can't talk to you," she snapped, and hung up.

The next day I turned up at her office. "If you reveal my identity, I'll be sent on the first plane out of this city," she said, before beginning to nervously pace the shore with me. "It started like this. We began to get complaints from people using the beach. The water looked and smelled odd, and they were starting to get sick after going into it. So I wrote to the ministers of health and tourism and expected to hear back immediately – but there was nothing. Silence. I hand-delivered the letters. Still nothing."

The water quality got worse and worse. The guests started to spot raw sewage, condoms, and used sanitary towels floating in the sea. So the hotel ordered its own water analyses from a professional company. "They told us it was full of fecal matter and bacteria 'too numerous to count'. I had to start telling guests not to go in the water, and since they'd come on a beach holiday, as you can imagine, they were pretty pissed off." She began to make angry posts on the expat discussion forums – and people began to figure out what was happening. Dubai had expanded so fast its sewage treatment facilities couldn't keep up. The sewage disposal trucks had to queue for three or four days at the treatment plants – so instead, they were simply drilling open the manholes and dumping the untreated sewage down them, so it flowed straight to the sea.

Suddenly, it was an open secret – and the municipal authorities finally acknowledged the problem. They said they would fine the truckers. But the water quality didn't improve: it became black and stank. "It's got chemicals in it. I don't know what they are. But this stuff is toxic."

She continued to complain – and started to receive anonymous phone calls. "Stop embarassing Dubai, or your visa will be cancelled and you're out," they said. She says: "The expats are terrified to talk about anything. One critical comment in the newspapers and they deport you. So what am I supposed to do? Now the water is worse than ever. People are getting really sick. Eye infections, ear infections, stomach infections, rashes. Look at it!" There is faeces floating on the beach, in the shadow of one of Dubai's most famous hotels.

"What I learnt about Dubai is that the authorities don't give a toss about the environment," she says, standing in the stench. "They're pumping toxins into the sea, their main tourist attraction, for God's sake. If there are environmental problems in the future, I can tell you now how they will deal with them – deny it's happening, cover it up, and carry on until it's a total disaster." As she speaks, a dust-storm blows around us, as the desert tries, slowly, insistently, to take back its land.


X. Fake Plastic Trees


On my final night in the Dubai Disneyland, I stop off on my way to the airport, at a Pizza Hut that sits at the side of one of the city's endless, wide, gaping roads. It is identical to the one near my apartment in London in every respect, even the vomit-coloured decor. My mind is whirring and distracted. Perhaps Dubai disturbed me so much, I am thinking, because here, the entire global supply chain is condensed. Many of my goods are made by semi-enslaved populations desperate for a chance 2,000 miles away; is the only difference that here, they are merely two miles away, and you sometimes get to glimpse their faces? Dubai is Market Fundamentalist Globalisation in One City.

I ask the Filipino girl behind the counter if she likes it here. "It's OK," she says cautiously. Really? I say. I can't stand it. She sighs with relief and says: "This is the most terrible place! I hate it! I was here for months before I realised – everything in Dubai is fake. Everything you see. The trees are fake, the workers' contracts are fake, the islands are fake, the smiles are fake – even the water is fake!" But she is trapped, she says. She got into debt to come here, and she is stuck for three years: an old story now. "I think Dubai is like an oasis. It is an illusion, not real. You think you have seen water in the distance, but you get close and you only get a mouthful of sand."

As she says this, another customer enters. She forces her face into the broad, empty Dubai smile and says: "And how may I help you tonight, sir?"


Some names in this article have been changed.

Indian Rail's just a snail

Thank God there's Rabindranath Tagore [ Images ], so Mamata Banerjee [ Images ] could quote him to spice up her 2009-10 railway budget speech. And thank God there's China, so we can compare notes and check out how good her fare really is. And what we find is that it is old fast-food cooked anew, instantly palatable but a potential killer.

In a growing economy, can we afford to ride a snail? We need a railway system that's fast, dynamic, and expanding. We don't have one and won't have it till the time non-stop trains continue to be the best we can think of. Will they run fast? Faster than India's current fastest, the Rajdhani and the Shatabdi expresses, whose average speed is no more than 80 km per hour? If they don't run fast, they won't make much of a difference. In a country where any train that runs at 55 km per hour or more is called super-fast, we'll only have a few more. In plainer language, only a few more gimmicks.

How fast are our goods trains? No more than 19 km to 30 km per hour in different part of the country. In eight years from now, when some 3,000 km of dedicated freight corridors ( forming only a tiny segment of our total network) are expected to be in service, a few of them could - just could - be running at 100 km an hour. Some benchmark indeed for 2020 India!

Look at China. After six reviews and continuous upgrading, the average speed on the Chinese railways has shot up to 200 km per hour from 55 km per hour in 1997. There will be 35 high-speed routes by 2012, with trains running at between 200 km and 350 km per hour.

At least 50,000 km of dedicated high-speed passenger railways will be on the ground by 2020. Thus, existing tracks will be freed up for cargo trains, whose average speed is already 120 km per hour.

The difference between the two countries is even more glaring when it comes to new construction. Mamata Banerjee's budget provides for only 250 km of new lines in the current fiscal year. The provisions for the previous two years were for 350 km and 155 km of new lines, respectively.

Is that enough for a country whose economy is expected to grow by 8-9 per cent a year and which wants a fair geographical distribution of growth? We've gone through almost two decades of economic reforms, but our route length has grown from 62,367 km in 1990 to only about 63,350 km now. Do you call that progress? Can we go on flogging a limited network without sacrificing speed and efficiency and adding to congestion?

More than 75 per cent of India's railway goods-traffic moves on about 20,000 km of fully saturated, over-utilised, and low-capacity lines. One day, it will simply choke.

In China, on the other hand, over 2,500 km of new lines were built in 2008 and another 3,450 km will be built in 2009. The new goal is to add 6,000 km of new tracks every year till 2020. China's network currently stands at 80,750 km, making it the third-largest in the world after the US and Russia [ Images ]. By 2020, it will have hit 120,000 km, of which 50 per cent will be double-tracked and 60 per cent electrified. What will India have by then?

Network expansion has naturally meant more business for the Chinese railways. They have three times the number of wagons India has - 600,000 against 200,000 - and moved 3.3 billion tonnes of cargo last year, against India's 833 million tonnes. What is India's target for 2009-10? No more than 882 million tonnes. For a vast and growing economy like India's, it's nothing but a joke.

The other difference is that the Chinese know the value of time. We don't. Beijing's [ Images ] 126-acre West station, commissioned in 1996 and said to be the largest in Asia, was built in three years.

Work on the 1,318-km. Beijing-to-Shanghai high-speed railway, a brand new line meant to cut travel time between the two cities from 14 hours to five - mark that - began in April 2008 and is to be completed by 2013. What's our schedule, say, for making 50 of our stations 'world class'? We don't know. The budget doesn't say anything on that. The budget debate has revealed that many past promises have remained unfulfilled so far.

So, you may draw your own conclusions. Mamata says it's a continuous process, whatever that means. And, as the previous railway minister, Lalu Prasad, admits, not all promises are meant to be implemented.

Thus, while China goes on to cover the entire country with high-speed trains to bolster its economic growth, we are happy to tinker with whatever we have, much like a child playing with his toy-train set, adjusting it here and there and deriving pleasure from it. It's a game we play, rolling out new promises to hide old failures, with no sync with the real economy.

Modern science and Hinduism

By Dr ABL Gupta

It is a matter of serious concern that if the nature is one, the humanity is one, God is also one, then how there can be religions more than one? At best there may be techniques of prayer more than one.

Today the whole world is at war. Behind this war, the main causes are unscientific and non wholesome views of religions. It is a matter of serious concern that if the nature is one, the humanity is one,God is also one, then how there can be religions more than one? At best there may be techniques of prayer more than one.

Sum total of modern sciences
Let us sum up the following sciences, i.e, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Anatomy, Physiology, Bio-physics, Bio-chemistry and Human Psychology. The human psychology covers the thinking mind, the intelligence, the sub-conscious,(where the memories are stored) and lastly the ego. By adding up the knowledge received from these sciences, we get the data concerning following six layers of human system. 1.Physical body. 2.Energy creating, sustaining and destroying the human cells.3.Thinking mind. 4.Intelligence. 5.Sub-conscious and 6.Ego. There are two more faculties experienced by the rishis for which the modern science is still striving. These layers are known as 1.Ananda.(Ever lasting happiness) and 2.Spirit. These faculties were perceived by the rishis, when they touched the zero state of mind during meditation. This is how the actual built up of human body or the scientific and wholesome view of human system was known. In vedic terminology it is called as the knowledge about ‘PIND’.

Now let us sum up the sciences giving us knowledge about godly creation.

Godly creation
On the same pattern as above, the following sciences when put together provide us knowledge about godly creation of the whole universe.

Astronomy:-It tells us about the motion of heavenly bodies in the huge space including that of our galaxy known as Aakashganga. It includes the events of crashing and amalgamation of galaxies with each other.

Astrophysics:- It is the part of astronomy and tells us about physical construction of the galaxies, that is, the estimated number of stars, the planets and huge raw material moving round in the space forming galaxies. and explosions of stars, releasing huge amount of energy, etc.

Cosmology:-It tells us about the kinds of galaxies in the universe, their formation, the type and the arrangement of stars including that in our galaxy and its behaviour, etc.

Relativity:-It tells us that in this universe every entity is in motion and their motions are relative to each other. The time and space are same entities..

Quantum Physics and Quantum Mechanics:-These sciences tell us how particles are created in the space and simultaneously absorbed also.

Unified Field Theory:-It tells us, that there has to be an unifying force controlling the following four forces working in the universe,i.e.

—1.Electromagnetic Force. 2.Strong Force 3.Gravitational Force and 4. Weak Force.The science is yet struggling hard to prove this theory, whereas the rishis have solved this issue and named this unifying force as ‘Brahman’. All these various entities form an Electromagnetic Spectrum having varying frequencies in the space.

Similar as detailed in case of human system, there exist six layers and they are in the form of colours popularly known as ‘Vibgyor’. lying within the visible range of light frequency that is,1014 to 1015 cycles per second.

These frequencies at macro level have been iconised and named by the rishis as described below:-

1.Physical Body (Sthuul Shareer):- The planets and huge solid mass lying within the solar family has been named as Sthuul Shareer) of Brahman. 2.The Energy released by Sun existing as the integral part of our Aakashganga has been named as the Prana. 3.The Moon as the thinking mind.4.The Brahma (Sun) represents the intelligence of Brahman. 5.Lord Vishnu represents sub-conscious mind and 6.Lord Shiva is the symbol of ego of Brahman.(Refer Sri Ramcharitmanas-vi/15).

Now similar to the human formation,the godly creation, known as Brahamand in vedic terminology also contains other two faculties, i.e, Constant Happiness (ananda) and finally the Brahman. Now on combining both sums, it was revealed to the rishis, that the events taking place at human (Pind) level are exactly identical to those whatever are taking place at Macro (Brahamand) level. This is how an excellent world known equation, —yatha pinde tatha brahmande (as the microcosm, so the macrocosm) became the foundation of Advait philosophy of Vedas.. This scientific equation was then transcribed into literature, and was expressed in four well known mantras as under:-

1.Tatwamasi.2.Soham. 3.Ayam Atma Brahman and 4.Aham Brahmasmi. This Advait philosophy wholly stands on scientific footings and represents the wholesome view of religion.

The formation of the above equation is the peak of knowledge and is the bright side of modern science. This is why all Hindu scriptures have unanimously declared scientist as the Supreme, (Refer Sri Ramcharitmanas between verse No.85-86 of chapter vii and Shreemad Bhagwad Geeta of vii/2-3,ix/1-2 and x/10).The reason is that without having the total view of godly creation and the human system, we can never visualise the wholesome knowledge of the universe and the human life, therefore one can not gain the knowledge of how to go across the cycle of life and death. However several people have prejudices against modern science, because they are aware only of the dark side of modern science. The dark side is the exorbitant increase in crimes due to misuse of science and lust for money for enjoying worldly pleasures.

The Advait philosophy teaches prayer of formless God.(Refer Article No. 1—Shree Sanatan Dharma through scientific eye). This practice was in vogue during Satyuga,which finally led to salvation.There are sects within Hinduism, who also preach prayer of formless God. Islam also teaches prayer of formless God. Hinduism, therefore has no conflict with Islam.

Simplification process in Hinduism
To make masses understand God, Rishi Vishwamitra, through Gayatri (Refer Essay No.2 of Essays in our site.) proposed the principle of iconisation. The principle of symbolisation (iconisation) became popular among the masses due to:-

1.It is not only simple, but can impart liberation (not salvation) and worldly pleasures too. 2.This research led to writing of most of the Hindu scriptures on the basis of symbols, specially the Puranas have been written in the form of stories and the characters used in the stories are the gods, goddesses and demons. From modern point of view, it is actually the digital technology. Today the computer has shaken the whole world, because it has been constructed on the basis of merely two symbols, that is zero and one. Thus the formless God was brought within the range of sense organs and this paved the way of simplification of vedic philosophy. Thus varieties of gods and goddesses were scientifically designed and were placed in a temple for worship. This evolution was a beautiful synthesis of Science (Colour), Arts (Dress +Armaments) and Literature (Qualities). Unfortunately the society took them as true events and the people completely submerged into the beauty of Art and Literature, that is they highlighted cultural aspect only and totally forgot science. The main cause of sufferings of Hindus today is that we have totally ignored science.

Simplification process in Islam
Originally in Macca, there were 360 idols around Kaba in addition to one round shaped stone existing even today in the centre having black colour. It is said that this round shaped stone descended from heaven and was originally of white colour. It is also said that when this white stone will become completely black, then it will be the day near to the day of kayamat or the day of judgement. About 1,500 years before, each idol was worshiped by one ‘Kabila’. These ‘Kabilas’ constantly engaged themselves in bloody battles for establishing superiority of their God. The Prophet, therefore, got these idols dismantled.(Refer—Muslim Hadeesh—Chapter—Removal of Idols Volume, III/4397-Page-1197)

However to settle the issue, the Prophet therefore preached the most simplified technique of prayer called namaaz. The prayer was aimed for Allah, the formless God and idol worship was strictly prohibited. The simplification had to be restricted to suit the climatic conditions,the food habits, taste and aptitude of the masses. This prayer has been prescribed to be performed five times in a day. There are other disciplines also recorded in Hadeesh (A book of disciplines).Till this point Hinduism has no conflict with Islam.

It appears that to spread the message of worship of formless God faster, the use of force was permitted and the martyrs were guaranteed the enormous pleasures of heaven. Since hatred, enmity and violence can in no way be the basis of any religion, therefore if Islam drops paragraphs expressing hatred, enmity and violence against all those, who are disbelievers, then Islam will become the religion of peace. Similarly religious heads of Christianity should also be brought on dialogue table and issues settled once for all. Indian system of solving the religious crisis in past has been Shastrarth, that is inter faith discussion across the table. (Refer Article No.2-Solution of Terrorism)

Let all patriot Indians insist for scientific religion only, because science has no prejudices and is based on evidences. This very method will then become the basis of world peace. Let us all pray, that for the sake of fraternity, solidarity and integrity of the nation,the people will come forward and take early action.

Vegetarianism: A Vedic way of life

By Stephen Knapp

Foods in the mode of goodness increase the duration of life, purify one’s existence and give strength, health, happiness and satisfaction. Such nourishing foods are sweet, juicy, fattening and palatable. Foods that are too bitter, too sour, salty, pungent, dry, and hot, are liked by people in the mode of passion. Such foods cause pain, distress, and disease.

The level of our consciousness is determined not only by what we think and do, but also by the vibrational level of what we put into our bodies as food. The more natural and peaceful the food, the more healthy and peaceful will be our consciousness.

It is hardly God’s philosophy to be a friend to humans but an enemy to animals by wanting to slaughter and eat them. What can be more thoughtless and evil than that? Thus, this sort of nonviolence that is exhibited towards others, as when one abstains from eating meat, is a godly quality, as Sri Krishna further explains in Bhagavadgita.

Many times there seems to be some confusion or lack of clarity on whether the Vedic path condones or condemns the eating of meat. Often, I hear Indians and followers of the Vedic path explain that meat eating is all right, that the Vedic shastras do not condemn it. Of course, in this day and age meat eating includes and supports the whole meat industry, which is the systematic slaughter of thousands of animals on a daily basis. But if we actually research the Vedic texts we will find that there are numerous references in the various portions of the Vedic literature that explains in no uncertain terms the karmic dangers of meat-eating and unnecessary animal slaughter. These indicate that meat eating should be given up for one’s spiritual and even material progress. This means that the Vedic conclusions that some people present for meat-eating are not accurate, and that they have never studied their own religious books very thoroughly. This is something that is important to understand, so let us take a look.

Sri Krishna’s instructions on what to eat in Bhagavadgita
Many people question what Sri Krishna says, or if He says anything at all, about whether to be vegetarian or not. Actually, He provides some important insights. Sri Krishna says in Bhagavad-Gita: “The devotees of the Bhagwan are released from all kinds of sins because they eat food which is offered first for sacrifice. Others, who prepare food for personal sense enjoyment, verily eat only sin.” (BG.3.13)

So, food should be first offered in sacrifice, or ritual, but what ritual is this? He explains quite clearly that all food, as well as anything else, should first be offered to Him. “If one offers Me with love and devotion a leaf, a flower, fruit or water, I will accept it. O son of Kunti, all that you do, all that you eat, all that you offer and give away, as well as all austerities that you may perform, should be done as an offering unto Me. In this way you will be freed from all reactions to good and evil deeds, and by this principle of renunciation you will be liberated and come to Me.” (BG. 9.26-28)

Herein it is clear that food should be first prepared for offering the Bhagwan, but with love. You can often see this in temples wherein the food is cooked with the intention of preparing it with love and then offering it before the Deities of Sri Krishna with love. Thereafter, the devotees take the remnants and distribute amongst them as offered food. This becomes prasadam, or the spiritually surcharged food that is the mercy of the Bhagwan, and which purifies our consciousness by honoring it through the process of respectfully eating it.

Furthermore, what is meant to be offered to the Bhagwan is outlined as a leaf (most vegetables consist of leafy substances), flowers or fruits (which consist of grains, nuts, and fruits and juices), and water. Thus, no meat is mentioned. There are a number of reasons for this, one of which is that food that is acquired through cruelty is in the mode of tamas, or darkness and ignorance, or in the mode of rajas, passion, which causes pain and distress to both the eater and the eaten. This is completely counterproductive to our own well-being, both in the present and in our future, and certainly causes pain and suffering to others. So, how can this be beneficial to anyone’s spiritual, mental, emotional, and subtle development? As Sri Krishna explains:

“Even food of which all partake is of three kinds, according to the three modes of material nature. The same is true of sacrifices, austerities and charity. Listen, and I shall tell you of the distinctions of these. Foods in the mode of goodness increase the duration of life, purify one’s existence and give strength, health, happiness and satisfaction. Such nourishing foods are sweet, juicy, fattening and palatable. Foods that are too bitter, too sour, salty, pungent, dry, and hot, are liked by people in the mode of passion. Such foods cause pain, distress, and disease. Food cooked more than three hours before being eaten, which is tasteless, stale, putrid, decomposed and unclean, is food liked by people in the mode of ignorance.” (BG.17.7-10)

Herein, it is clear that pure and wholesome vegetarian foods are what is needed for our own refinement, health, strength, and happiness, while other kinds of food cause pain, suffering and disease. It does not take much comparative study to recognise this.

Furthermore, we can see that the process of preparing and eating food is also a part of the Vedic system for making spiritual advancement. As the Vedic literature explains, what we eat is an important factor in the process of purifying ourselves and remaining free from accumulating bad karma. It actually is not so difficult to be vegetarian, and it gives one a much higher taste in eating and in one’s spiritual realisations. The level of our consciousness is also determined not only by what we think and do, but also by the vibrational level of what we put into our bodies as food. The more natural and peaceful the food, the more healthy and peaceful will be our consciousness. If it is further blessed and offered to the Lord, then it becomes especially powerful and spiritualised. This vibration goes into our own bodies and is assimilated by our consciousness to assist us in our spiritual upliftment.

However, if we eat foods that are the remnants of animals that were petrified with fear before being slaughtered, or were tortured during the slaughter process, that fear, aggression and suffering will also become a part of our own consciousness, which is reflected back on our own life and the people with whom we come in contact. And people wonder why there is not more peace in the world.

Another reason why no meat is mentioned as being acceptable to Sri Krishna is that the soul, which is a part and parcel of the Lord Himself, is equally present in not only humans, but all species of life.

“The humble sage, by virtue of true knowledge, sees with equal vision a learned and gentle brahmana, a cow, an elephant, a dog and a dog-eater [or outcaste].” (BG.5.18) Thus, a wise person recognises the value of life, the soul, within all species of living beings. Because he recognises the soul in all bodies, he does not cause any cruelty to them. Cruelty or suffering inflicted on any living being will certainly cause harm to ourselves and regression in our own development, spiritual or otherwise. Compassion and kindness to all beings is how we make spiritual progress. Is there anything that is really more important that this? As Sri Krishna explains:

“One who is not envious but who is a kind friend to all living entities, who does not think himself a proprietor, who is free from false ego and equal both in happiness and distress, who is always satisfied and engaged in devotional service with determination and whose mind and intelligence are in agreement with Me—he is very dear to Me.” (BG.12.13-14)

Thus, how can we be kind to all living entities if we are looking at them as if they would be our next meal? This is not compassion, concern for others, or kindness. It is no different than the way animals look at each other with the intent to eat another being, or with fear to keep from being eaten. As human beings, we should be better than that, certainly more developed than carrying a mere animal mentality within ourselves. Meat cannot be acquired without violence to others, and unwarranted violence toward others offers nothing elevating to anyone. It is hardly God’s philosophy to be a friend to humans but an enemy to animals by wanting to slaughter and eat them. What can be more thoughtless and evil than that? Thus, this sort of nonviolence that is exhibited towards others, as when one abstains from eating meat, is a godly quality, as Sri Krishna further explains in Bhagavadgita (16.2-3): ahimsa or nonviolence is one of the transcendental qualities that belong to godly men endowed with divine nature.

Vedic references against meat-eating and animal slaughter
To start with, the Manu-samhita clearly and logically recommends that, “Meat can never be obtained without injury to living creatures, and injury to sentient beings is detrimental to the attainment of heavenly bliss; let him therefore shun the use of meat. Having well considered the disgusting origin of flesh and the cruelty of fettering and slaying corporeal beings, let him entirely abstain from eating flesh.” (Manu-Samhita 5.48-49)

However, it is not simply the person who eats the meat that becomes implicated by eating the dead animal, but also those who assist in the process. “He who permits the slaughter of an animal, he who cuts it up, he who kills it, he who buys or sells meat, he who cooks it, he who serves it up, and he who eats it, must all be considered as the slayers of the animal. There is no greater sinner than that man who though not worshiping the gods or the ancestors, seeks to increase the bulk of his own flesh by the flesh of other beings.” (Manu-Samhita 5.51-52)

As we get further into the Manu-Samhita, there are warnings that become increasingly more serious. For example, “If he has a strong desire (for meat) he may make an animal of clarified butter or one of flour (and eat that); but let him never seek to destroy an animal without a (lawful) reason. As many hairs as the slain beast has, so often indeed will he who killed it without a (lawful) reason suffer a violent death in future births.” (Manu-Samhita 5.37-38)

In this way, the only time to carry out the need to kill animals for consumption is when there is an emergency such as when there simply is nothing else to eat. Otherwise, when there are plenty of grains, vegetables, fruits, etc., to eat, it is only mankind’s lust and selfish desires that motivate one to kill other beings to satisfy one’s tongue by tasting their blood and flesh, or to fatten one’s wallet by making money from participating in the distribution or the cooking of meat. Such violent actions create opposite reactions. For this reason the warnings are given, “He who injures harmless creatures from a wish to give himself pleasure, never finds happiness in this life or the next.” (Manu-Samhita 5.45)

Nonetheless, there are also benefits that are mentioned that a person can attain simply by not eating the bodies of other creatures: “By subsisting on pure fruits and roots, and by eating food fit for ascetics in the forest, one does not gain so great a reward as by entirely avoiding the use of flesh. Me he [mam sah] will devour in the next world, whose flesh I eat in this life; the wise declare this to be the real meaning of the word ‘flesh’ [mam sah].” (Manu-Samhita 5.54-55)

“He who does not seek to cause the sufferings of bonds and death to living creatures, (but) desires the good of all (beings), obtains endless bliss. He who does not injure any (creature) attains without an effort what he thinks of, what he undertakes, and what he fixes his mind on.” (Manu-Samhita 5.46-47)

Also, “By not killing any living being, one becomes fit for salvation.” (Manu-Samhita 6.60)