Mauro Montacchiesi reviews Dr. Jernail S. Anand’s book Conversations with the Infinite

CONVERSATIONS WITH THE INFINITE ORIGINAL TEXT BY JERNAIL S. ANAND

(CRITICAL REVIEW BY MAURO MONTACCHIESI)

Introduction: 

A book that exists in the present and outside of time.

Not being a collection of articles in the journalistic sense of the term, this text defies any conventional classification.

It is neither an academic essay nor a philosophical treatise.

As stated by the author himself:

it is “just a conversation over evening tea.”

As a matter of fact, a rhetorical strategy is hosted within this modest declaration. 

Conversations with the Infinite has a complex and speculative structure.

Its edifice interweaves:

spirituality and technology, ecology and pedagogy.

But also:

metaphysics and cultural anthropology;

social critique and moral philosophy.

The book is a patchwork of reflections.

Yet, its internal framework is surprisingly compact.

Each chapter is a quilt of patchwork that contributes to a larger plan:

that one of the ethical regeneration of humanity.

Anand doesn’t simply diagnose the ills of the present;

he proposes a way out, a cure, a journey of moral reconstruction that involves the individual, society, technology, and the cosmos.

His writing is simple, but never simplistic.

It is communicative, but not banal.

It is accessible, but does not sacrifice depth.

It is, above all, a writing that seeks to touch the reader, trying to

shake him, and restore the awareness of his role in the world.

The book is an eminently ethical work.

It judges the world, it does not describe it.

It questions reality, it does not observe it.

It proposes, it does not merely denounce.

2. The Conceptual Framework: The Crisis of the Post-Truth Era

The subtitle of the trilogy to which this book belongs—The Post-Truth Trilogy—is already a manifesto.

Anand identifies post-truth as an anthropological condition, not just as a media or political.

Contemporary man has lost touch with truth, with reality, with his own interiority, with nature, with time, with community, with the divine.

Post-truth, for Anand, is not an epistemological problem:

it is a moral problem.

It is the consequence of a series of fractures:

the fracture between knowledge and wisdom;

the fracture between technology and humanity;

the fracture between education and moral formation;

The fracture between the individual and society;

The fracture between man and nature;

The fracture between human time and cosmic time;

The fracture between interiority and social representation.

The book is an attempt to heal these fractures, to mend what modernity has torn apart.

3. The diagnosis:

Contemporary man as a “neo-slave”

The first two chapters are dedicated to the transformation of work in the digital age.

A powerful historical parallel is constructed by Anand.

The digital worker who lives “chained to his cell phone day and night.”

From ancient slavery, to feudal servitude, to the condition of the industrial worker, to the new figure of the laptopicarian.

3.1. Digital Slavery as Historical Regression

Anand argues that technology, instead of liberating humanity, has re-chained it.

Workplace flexibility is a fiction:

the digital worker is always available, always monitored, always evaluated, always under pressure.

They no longer have fixed hours, no longer have boundaries between private life and work, no longer have union rights, no longer have security.

Technology, which should have been a means, has become a master.

3.2. The Loss of Dignity

The central point of Anand’s critique is not economic, but anthropological:

the digital worker has lost dignity.

He is a node in a network that monitors and exploits him, a terminal, a cog.

He is no longer a political subject, no longer a worker with rights,

no longer a citizen.

3.3. The Condition of Teachers

Particularly incisive is his denunciation of the condition of teachers, “once the most dignified sector of society,” now reduced to executors of bureaucratic tasks, deprived of time to think, reflect, create, and educate.

Anand hits on a key point:

when teachers lose their dignity, the entire society loses its own.

3. The Second Fall of Man: The Loss of “Human Graces”

A powerful concept is introduced by Anand in the third chapter:

the second fall of man.

The first fall, the biblical one, was the fall toward knowledge. 

The second, the contemporary one, is the fall from human grace.

4.1. Emotional Disintegration

Being emotionally disintegrated, modern man lives in a world of material comforts, but is internally restless, confused, and  empty.

Technology has reduced the capacity for discernment, even if it has amplified possibilities.

Far from being a solution, one perceives AI as a threat.

4.2. The Ethical Neutrality of Literature

Contemporary literature has abdicated its moral role.

This crucial cultural phenomenon has been denounced by Anand.

Writers no longer want to assume ethical responsibilities, no longer want to point to good and evil, no longer want to take a stand.

They fear being accused of moralism.

But this neutrality is, for Anand, a form of complicity with moral chaos.

4.3. The Proposal:

“Etiquettes”

Anand’s proposal is that its ethical purpose should be explicitly stated by every literary work.

This is not propaganda, but cosmic responsibility: 

the writer must contribute to the good of the universe.

5. The Metaphysics of Time:

Kaal and Maha-Kaal

The fourth chapter is one of the most profound and original.

Anand distinguishes between:

Kaal, human, finite, mortal time;

Maha-Kaal, cosmic, eternal, divine time.

5.1. Man as an Uninitiated Being

Man arrives on earth “uninstructed and uninitiated”:

he ignores that his actions have cosmic consequences, that he is being observed, and he ignores as well the reason why he is here.

He lives as if he were eternal, but he is a temporary traveler.

5.2. Cosmic Surveillance

Maha-Kaal, symbolically associated with Shiva, observes every action, every thought, every intention.

He does not judge according to material evidence, but according to spiritual DNA and karma.

5.3. Man’s Cosmic Responsibility

Anand invites the reader to live with awareness of his cosmic role:

every action is recorded, every choice is evaluated, every life is part of a greater plan.

4. Deep Psychology: The “Digestive Tract”

The fifth chapter is a meditation on the structure of human consciousness.

Anand distinguishes three levels:

the formal, social, performative level;

the “underpass,” the interior level that protests against the falsity of the formal level;

the “Digestive Tract,” the place where man judges himself before dying.

6.1. The Division of the Self

Man lives divided:

what he shows does not coincide with what he feels.

This division produces confusion, suffering, and moral ineffectiveness.

6.2. The Last Judgment as Self-Judgment

Anand argues that before dying, man knows perfectly well what he has done, what he has done wrong, what he has betrayed.

He carries with him his own judgment, which anticipates the divine one.

6.3. The Superiority of Nature

Nature does not have this division:

it is unitary, wise, and coherent. 

On the other hand, humans are torn by ambition and knowledge. 

7. The Educational Revolution:

Against the “Bottling Plant Syndrome”

Chapters 6 and 8 are devoted to a critique of the contemporary education system.

7.1. Time as a Wasted Resource

Anand denounces the absurdity of a system that forces extremely fast students to follow extremely slow paths.

School has remained stuck in the era of camels, while children live in the age of AI.

7.2. The Loss of “Vacant Time”

Free time, empty time, contemplative time has been eliminated. But it is precisely in that time that creativity, philosophy, and wisdom are born.

7.3. The University as a Factory

Universities have become “bottling plants”:

they produce students as products, with labels and prices. 

Moral education has disappeared.

5. AI as a Jinn: the most visionary chapter

The seventh chapter is a masterpiece of philosophy of technology. Anand compares AI to the Jinn in Aladdin’s lamp:

immense power in the hands of an immature man.

8.1. Assistance vs. Abdication

AI is useful when it assists;

it is dangerous when it replaces. 

Man risks becoming a child cared for by the machine.

8.2. The “Fake Factory”

Anand denounces the production of fake human beings, fake speeches, fake leaders, fake worlds.

Reality becomes an option, not a foundation.

8.3. The Three “Ethical Commands”

Anand proposes three ethical commands for AI:

Ecological:

Heal what humans have wounded.

Social:

Serve workers, not replace them.

Existential:

A world without fossil fuels be invented.

9. Moral Reconstruction:

Against Ethical Inertia

The ninth chapter is a call to youth: 

recover truth, sincerity, and kindness.

Anand distinguishes between religiosity (external) and ethics (internal).

Society has confused the two, losing both.

6. Natural Wisdom: “Wisdom Farming”

The tenth chapter is a defense of nature considered as a teacher of wisdom.

Humans have forgotten that wisdom, possessed by mountains, plants, rivers and animals.

11. Criticism of Contemporary Poetry

In chapter 11, Anand denounces narcissistic, self-referential, and messageless poetry.

Poetry should “whisper to the soul,” not recount the fragments of a broken heart.

12. Happiness as a Social Construction

Chapter 12 is a reflection on happiness:

it is not an individual fact, but a relational one.

It does not arise from possession, but from sharing.

13. Macbeth and Poetry as a Cure for Darkness

Chapter 13 imagines a Macbeth who, if he had read poetry, would have avoided evil.

Poetry is an antidote to moral darkness.

14. Time as a Cosmic Laundry

Chapter 14 is a meditation on time:

past, present, and future are rivers that meet.

The present is the laundry where actions are purified.

15. The Returning Truth

Truth as an  inexorable force.

It strikes whenever it wants.

Anand clarifies that in chapter 15.

But false narratives can last for generations.

16. The Jungle as a Model of Order

Chapter 16 overturns the concept of “jungle raj”:

the jungle is more orderly, more just, more balanced than the human world.

17. The Cosmic Regeneration of Humanity

A call to arms is evident in the final chapter.

Scientists, writers, and philosophers should gather.

They’d have to work jointly to save humanity from suicide.

18. Conclusion:

A Necessary Book

Conversations with the Infinite is a necessary work.

Not because it offers simple solutions, but because it reminds humanity of its complex, cosmic, and moral nature.

Anand is an author who doesn’t simply describe the world:

he wants to save it, fears it, loves it, and judges it.

The book is an invitation to remember that we are part of a living universe.

A living universe that awaits us, judges us, accompanies us, and observes us.

As well, the text is a call to feel, to think, to slow down.

It’s a book you don’t read:

you listen to.

It’s a book you don’t study:

you meditate on.

It’s a book you don’t forget:

you carry it with you.

Poetry from Maja Milojković

Younger middle aged white woman with long blonde hair, glasses, and a green top and floral scarf and necklace.
Maja Milojkovic

THE RIVER OF ETERNITY

In the silence of dawn’s embrace,

Where freedom’s song finds its space,

In the whispers of the ancient trees,

Lies the essence of inner peace.

Through the mist of morning’s light,

Where souls dance in pure delight,

In the unity of hearts set free,

Flows the river of eternity.

Beyond the realm of earthly sight,

Where spirits soar in tranquil flight,

In the stillness of the cosmic sea,

Resides the truth that sets us free.

So let us journey inward, deep,

Where love’s eternal flame we keep,

In the sanctuary of our soul’s embrace,

We find the serenity of grace.

Maja Milojković was born in Zaječar, Serbia. She is the deputy editor at “Sfairos” publishing house in Belgrade, Serbia.  She is the vice-president of the association “Rtanj and Mesečev poetski krug”.  She is the author of two books: “The Circle of the Moon” and “Trees of Desire” She is the editor of the International Anthology “Rtanjski stihopevi” One of the founders of the poetry club “Area Felix” from Zaječar, Serbia and the editor of an international e-magazine for creative literature and culture “Area Felix”.

Poetry from Young-eun Kang

Babel

In the beginning, the world was a belt, all of it connected, a horizon without high or low, independent, without rank. Then the people, bored with roads that had no uphill, came to a wide plain and said,

“Come, let us bake bricks and build a tower that reaches the top of heaven, so that our name may be known throughout the world. In the name of God, let us conquer the world.”*

They raised a vertical tower and crammed the long, outstretched belt inside it. The running horses had their limbs severed, and the horses that cried out were bridled. Their screams entered those gentle, wounded eyes and became wordless. The horses once left to graze scattered into the air and have yet to return.

That was when every thought existing on earth came crashing down with the thunder of hoofbeats.

Look at this chaos— a war of words, words thrown like bombs, quarrels raging everywhere, words biting off their own tongues. Do you see?

From the moment the wounded earth opened its mouth, the history of war began.

Imagine a lake that has become a desert, a vast silence that has swallowed every sound, the immeasurable sorrow of those who have lost their words.

Isn’t it like a blank manuscript abandoned by its poet?

In the desert where sandstorms rage, there is a plain where black horses run wild. From the boiling mouths of horses wearing black masks rises a black, burning tongue.

“Tell me. Who is the god you believe in?”

I can still hear the voice bellowing at the words hidden behind your lips.

Shhh… That is the entrance to Babel.

They are still building the tower, even now—

now, when the whole world speaks different languages and uses different words.

Genesis 11:4

Others

Africa may not be Africa to everyone, but you wanted to lean your shoulder against someone as though you had come from Africa.

And so you leaned your shoulder.

You always wore the same face and longed for a warm wall, but the living room, with its firewood burning, could not become a wall.

You crossed the room with a face half-burned away.

Paprika may not be paprika to everyone, but you wanted to set down your gaze like someone choosing paprika.

And so you lowered your gaze.

You always carried the same inner self and longed for a light embrace, but even inside the same bag the colors were different:

red, yellow, green. You, whose expressions were all different, returned to the plastic bag.

Like paprika from Africa, half-burned silence sits around the table.

Silence does not want to be protected.

Marie’s Story

Marie, the six-year-old girl-dog
who lives in our home,

has waiting
in her transparent eyes.

Woof—woof—woof.
That is all she can say,

yet there is no arrogance,
no prejudice
in Marie’s language.

In a face
where language cannot reach,

Marie and I
fall silent.

A place where instinct
recognizes instinct—

as though that were
the center of the world.

Like creatures of consciousness and the unconscious,
paired as one,

Marie and I lean into drowsiness
and drift into an afternoon nap.

The deeper our nap becomes,
our backs turned to the world,

the farther Marie and I
move from humankind.

In a time
when nothing happens,

in the weightless space of time,

Marie and I
touch one another.

Poetry from Hassan Musa Dakasku

I wonder if you truly knew How often my joy begins with you. 

No reason, no moment, nothing to prove, My heart just smiles because it’s you.

Perhaps some happiness needs no clue, Some hearts just find their way to you. And mine, without a reason why, My heart finds its greatest joy whenever you’re near.

An introvert’s heart is a garden unseen,

Where calm grows quietly, graceful and green.

They listen with depth, they speak with care, Finding rare beauty others miss there.

They cherish few, but love them true, Their silence often says more than words do.

So never mistake quiet for small, The gentlest souls can inspire us all.

Hassan Musa Dakasku is a Nigerian writer, a passionate advocate for youth well-being, a microbiologist, and a performance poet. He is an author whose work is rooted in vulnerability and personal expression, and he maintains a personal blog where he shares his insights and creative pieces. Instagram: @hm_dakasku, Facebook:  @hm_dakasku

Poetry from Sayani Mukherjee

Fate

Heaven is a beautiful thing to feel for

Like Eve in a white wedding gown

Good people don’t need a thing to live for

It has everything with goodness

Like pristine and noble of a rose bouquet

Or the prayer book that Good bled on his ideal

It’s the bad people that earth’s pleasures are for

Somebody I used to know faked 

Being a Moralist and got praised for

The eternal hanging note of happiness and love

Sadness is real for the philosophical mind

They dwindle and get cursed for watching life

I wish upon monks and priests

Live life like greenery. 

Poetry from Mickey Corrigan

Men at Work

Behind the counter
in the church attic
teenage hangout
after school, weekend nights
selling candy, making milkshakes
flirting with the longhairs
waiting for one to call
in your dad’s big easy chair
Helter Skelter open
in your skinny lap
behind another counter
ringing up burgers, fries
grease clinging to freckles
your waist-length braid
biker boy punches in
black helmet covering
his pockmarked face
hands racing all over you
managers laughing loudly
in the manner of old men
behind another counter
cash register at KFC
alone and bored and afraid
someone could want more
than chicken one summer
more freedom to move
from hotel room to room
strip sheets, scrub toilets
tubs of vomit and condoms
when a stranger walks in
slams the door, presses you
against an unmade bed
he steals a Kodak camera
from the guest’s luggage
only college saves you
not from men at work
but from victimhood
sweet naiveté
and raw youth.

That’s how it happens

She told you it was bursitis
because she didn’t want to say cancer
because you were all so young
because she couldn’t do much after
so you took on her chores
because she died young
so you kept the family going
because you were the responsible one
so the guidance counselor at school
because he was worried about your friend
because he thought you could influence her
because she was so wild
because you met her neighbors
because they were wild too
so you went to the cemetery
because one had a pint of vodka
because he worked pumping gas
because he says he peaked that year
because she moved away
because maybe she peaked then too
because she married three times
because the first seduced school kids
because the second beat on her kids
so maybe you all peaked back then
because the drinking was easy
because the vodka was tasteless
because vodka is odorless
because that’s how it happens
and keeps on happening.

Kitchen Duties

Washing dishes at the sink
while your siblings dine
on the meals you cooked
spraying dishes by the bulk
with steaming institutional rinse
mornings in the cafeteria
too much with a hangover
after frat party after party
bar crawl after bar crawl
promotion to assistant chef
tossing salads by the hundreds
giant mixers beating batters
cornbread, biscuits, pancakes
weak coffee by the gallon
paying your way through college
an internship with a stipend
pale green rooms, weekday meals
at the crumbling state institution
planning menus for the insane
on a suspiciously small budget
too many fingers in the stew
sliced bologna and white bread
cling peaches in syrup, blued
milk the hue of winter sky
out your windows hollow men
linger on stone benches
women in mismatched shoes
wander in a drugout daze
the employee dorm unlocked
you’d never felt so safe.

Poetry from Milka J. Šolaja

I AM GROWING OLD

I glide my fingertips over the wrinkles on my face, I am growing old…

Each one depicts something

from my life

but I don’t care.

Not a single artist

could arrange them like this,

shallow, deep, smiling

they look at me from my skin.

I frown in vain,

I didn’t do it,

It’s all God’s work…

The one next to the eye that laughs,

and the one next to the lips

that changes the whole face.

I was growing old

and you danced in my chest,

becoming the most beautiful part of me…

I smiled with my soul, eyes, lips

like an actress on stage.

My wrinkles were beautiful too,

there was more and more room for you

because my skin was getting bigger…

I am growing old, I am slowly forgetting,

I know it was happiness.

I am burning

because my heart is tingling and my thoughts are black,

I AM GROWING OLD

MILKA J. ŠOLAJA, born in Korenica, Republic of Croatia. Lives and works in Belgrade. She has been writing poetry since her high school days. So far, she has published 11 independent poetry collections: “If I Were a Bird”, “Dreams in the Mirror”, “Between Reality and Sleep”, “Traces Will Remain”, “Black and White World”, “I Think Your Hands Are Yours”, “A Tear from Stone”, “I Was Born Alone” and two co-authored poetry collections: “I Dream with Verses” and “My Dreams Written in Verses”, published by “Kulture Snova” from Zagreb. 

The eleventh poetry collection “I Am This I Am” is in preparation for publication, as well as the autobiographical novel “Walking on the Edge”. She writes love, homeland, descriptive, reflective, spiritual and poetry for children. Translated into English, Hungarian, Bengali, Spanish, Greek, Odia, Arabic…

Award-winning, represented in many anthologies, monographs, collections and magazines, both domestic and international. Some poems are composed. Member of: Serbian Writers’ Association, Literary and Artistic Union “Vlaho Bukovac” from Split, “Culture of Dreams” from Zagreb, Institute for Children’s Literature in Belgrade. She is also a member of several International Groups, Forums and Academies for Poetry and Literature, where she has received a large number of awards.