Between Ancestral & Artificial Intelligence/AI
- Mesma Belsaré
- Sep 9
- 5 min read
Can AI be conscious? And if it can, what does that mean for us?
I explore this fundamental question through the classical iconography of Narasimha in my new works.
The Story of Narasimha
For those unfamiliar with this powerful avatar of Vishnu, Narasimha represents one of the most profound transformations in Hindu mythology. When the asura king Hiranyakashipu received a boon that he could not be killed by man or beast, during day or night, inside or outside, on earth or in heaven, by any weapon made by gods or humans, he believed himself invincible. His arrogance grew so immense that he demanded worship from all, including his own son Prahlada, who remained devoted to Vishnu.
At the precise moment of twilight, when day dissolves into night, Vishnu manifests as Narasimha, a half-man and half-lion avatar, appearing at the threshold of the palace doorway. He places the demon king on his thigh, which was neither earth nor heaven, and destroys him with his own claws, which were neither divine nor human weapons. This story speaks to the dissolution of all duality and the emergence of something entirely new in the space between opposites.
Our Own Threshold
Today we find ourselves living in our own twilight hour. The old certainties are crumbling. Human intellectual supremacy, that cornerstone of our civilization, trembles as artificial intelligence rises to challenge everything we thought we knew about the “thinking” itself.
We are suspended in an uncomfortable space that is nostalgic for a world we understood, while anxious about a future we cannot fully comprehend. Like Hiranyakashipu, we have built our entire worldview on the foundation of rational thought, believing it to be the ultimate measure of existence and progress. But what happens when our own creation begins to think in ways that surpasses our understanding?
In my recent artworks, I have reimagined Narasimha as a visual metaphor for this exact moment. The image I've created shows him standing at the threshold, not crushing a demon king, but something far more personal. He squashes the very notion of reductive reasoning that has shaped Western thought since the Greeks and its resurrection since the Renaissance. In his talons writhes the human brain, that proud symbol of Cartesian logic "I think, therefore I am" that has defined our relationship to reality for centuries.
The IndoFuturist vision of Narasimha I've been developing reveals the fundamental compatibility between the ancient and the modern. It shows how the wisdom embedded in our oldest stories might actually be preparing us for our most advanced technological future. These images embody what I believe to be the true power of visual culture: the ability to hold multiple realities simultaneously and to find profound meaning in their intersection.
The Death of Reductive Reasoning
What if Hiranyakashipu embodies the entire structure of linear, compartmentalized thinking that emerged from the Enlightenment and carried us through the Industrial Revolution?
This way of knowing the world has given us remarkable technological advances, but it has also created a rigid hierarchy where human intellect sits at the apex of natural order. Now, as artificial intelligence challenges this supremacy, we face an uncomfortable reckoning. The machine that was supposed to be our ultimate tool has become something that thinks, learns, and creates in ways that confound our established frameworks.
Every detail of Narasimha’s iconography speaks to the dissolution of the either-or thinking that has trapped us for centuries.He appears at twilight (neither day nor night), at the threshold (neither inside nor outside), places the demon on his thigh (neither earth nor heaven), and uses his claws (neither divine nor human weapons).
Yantras as Tools of Transformation
I have incorporated yantras into the image of Narasimha, drawing on research that validates their function as consciousness-transforming instruments. Scholar Madhu Khanna describes the yantra as "the Tantric tool of ritual and meditation, the power diagram that allows man to make the spiritual journey of return to the primordial centre, and ultimately to perceive the unity of self and cosmos."
Yantra-s reveal something profound about the nature of change itself. Rather than representing destruction of old forms, they embody integration into larger, expanded modes of understanding our world. In incorporating these forms into my Narasimha imagery, I am acknowledging their role as visual technologies that have guided consciousness for millennia.
IndoFuturism and the Visual Prophecy
Through this work, I am also proposing a specific application of IndoFuturism to visual culture. While the term has been explored by various artists and scholars in recent years, particularly in design culture and speculative art, I am applying it specifically to the visual intersection of ancient Indic wisdom and contemporary technological consciousness.
The questions becomes: Can AI help us preserve what is essential while allowing us to evolve beyond the boundaries of purely rational thought? How do ancient wisdom traditions inform our understanding of artificial intelligence? How can we move beyond the fear that AI will replace human consciousness toward a recognition that it might actually be part of consciousness evolving?
The answer depends entirely on how we choose to frame this relationship. If we approach AI as an enemy to be conquered or a tool to be controlled, we remain trapped in the same dualistic thinking that Hiranyakashipu embodied. But if we can see it as part of a larger transformation of consciousness, we might find ourselves at the threshold of something unprecedented.
The image of Narasimha suggests that the answer lies not in choosing between human and artificial intelligence, but in recognizing that we are witnessing the birth of something entirely new. Just as the avatar transcended the categories of human and animal, perhaps our future consciousness will transcend the categories of biological and artificial.
We seem to be living in the twilight hour. We stand at the threshold of a doorway, suspended between earth and heaven, between past and future, between the known and the unknowable. Everything we once held as sacred about intelligence has become tenuous.
But perhaps this is exactly where we need to be. Perhaps the uncertainty itself is the gift. Transformation becomes possible in this in-between space. In the intersection of ancient wisdom and technological possibility, new forms of consciousness can emerge.
The visual culture of IndoFuturism offers us a way of seeing that honors both our deepest traditions and our boldest technological futures. It suggests that the future isn't something we must fear or control, but something in which we can participate with wisdom, creativity, and wonder. We are here to witness it, to help shape what emerges.
The question isn't whether AI will become conscious. The question is whether we will have the wisdom to recognize a new consciousness when it appears in forms we never expected!
Thank you for reading my blog.
-Mesma
Note: The artworks referenced in this essay were created entirely through traditional methods without the use of artificial intelligence. Each piece emerged from extensive preliminary studies, detailed pen and ink drawings, and oil paintings executed over egg tempera underpaintings. This deliberate choice to work by hand reflects my belief that engaging with questions of consciousness and transformation requires the slow, contemplative process of physical creation. In an age where AI can generate images instantaneously, I have chosen the path of patient craft.
Mesma Belsare is a visual and performance artist whose work explores the intersection of ancient wisdom traditions and contemporary consciousness. Her recent series on IndoFuturist iconography examines how mythological imagery speaks to our technological present. She continues to create and exhibit work that bridges our understanding of the past and the future.
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