I

am standing on the edge of the rice fields. When my work schedule gets too tough and starts eating into my power reserves, I drag myself away from the computer and venture into a sea of green to help clear my mind and revive my spirits. The jewel-like perfection of the majestic rice fields of Bali is about as close to that vision of paradise as you'll get.

Rice is the world's most vital food crop, essential for more than half the world's population. It is the grain that has shaped the history, culture, eating habits and economy of billions of people of Asia. In many parts of Asia, the passage of time and seasons are still marked by the growth stages of the rice crop. Rice is not just a cereal; it is the powerful seed of civilization.

There's something about rice. Beyond the dazzling picture-perfect fields that float across the island, rice embodies the heart of Bali. It is the icon of Balinese culture and in former days, represented a certain brand of freedom, a village independence of sorts for priests and farmers alike. It stood for ritual, community and survival.

Once upon a time, all Balinese rice was organic. Agriculture and religious rites were happy bed partners that maintained a perfect marriage of community and farming methods based on religious cycles.

Enter the Green Revolution of the 1960s that some call the transformation of agriculture but for many was the destruction of an age-old, eco-friendly way of life. Divorce.

From being a slow-growing easy-going Balinese bi-annual grain, in burst the smooth-talking, fast-growing muscle-flexing miracle rice that was hailed as the savior.

The classic beauty of the Balinese rice was replaced by the less poetic, almost Mohawk-coiffed, style of the newer strain. While the original fully grown crop would arch gracefully in seductive submission, the sharp short new-kid-on-the-block had little style.

Gone was that certain brand of elegant humility and homegrown wisdom that was analogous with the Balinese philosophy of life. If it is said that empty vessels make the most sound, then the miracle rice struck a discordant chang-chang-chang, like a gamelan out of tune.

But it goes much deeper than that, dare we delve. Farmers were suddenly disempowered and lost control of water and worms. They were urged - forced really - to use chemical pesticides and fertilizers.

All they had left to control was the Subak temple, the temple of the rice fields. They began to float as much as the poetic fields they tended. In came the state, the World Bank, the IMF and other bulldozers of social harmony. The Green Revolution was the proverbial symbol of globalization, a colonizer of agrarian communities.

Disenchantment with modern rice grew. If rice holds amertha, the essence of life, farmers now felt that the mertha matemahing wesia, the essence was now poisoned. Modernization and globalization were the messengers of dissolution.

In Bali, Dewi Sri is the beloved rice mother, the goddess of life and fertility who resides in the rice fields. She is the consort of Wisnu and the mother of Dewi Melanting, goddess of markets and gardens. I can think of no other goddess who commands such respect, who has an almost cult-like status, the subject of art in all its guises.

Since the "villafication" of Bali, Dewi Sri has been morphed into bungalows, rooms with a view. With around 1,000 hectares of ricefields a year being transformed into glam residences for the rich and famous, the welfare of Dewi Sri is the next issue. In the fabled early days, the daily ritual included the making of colorful offerings for the revered Dewi Sri, nourishment to keep the gal fed, blessed and beautiful in her green belt oasis.

The new ritual offering-making of modern day Bali has become the making of toast, fruit salad and mixed juice for the new tenants of the fields. Dewi Sri has been replaced by Mary, Michael, Yoko and assorted tourists. But can they provide the karmic benefits of the glorious rice queen or the spiritual satisfaction?

With the diminished rice fields, jineng or rice barns have become the fashionable addition to the family compound albeit empty of the grain they were built to hold - a curious statement of wealth that reflects loss rather than gain, if you know what I mean.

Rather like the rise of television cooking shows: the less people cook the more they sit glued to the box watching Jamie, Nigella and other jolly TV chefs who are affectionately known in the industry as Tellie Tubbies.

And what about the health benefits of rice I hear you ask? Rice is cherished as a cholesterol-free, protein-calorie cornucopia providing most Asians 60 to 80 percent of their caloric intake. But sadly the newer strains contain fewer nutrients than the original organic rice. The rise of diabetes in Bali is certainly food for thought.

Balinese forefathers expounded their philosophy about rice fields. If you were not a landowner, a man for all seasons, you were better off to look internally and tend the fields within, rather like the Mahabarata where Arjuna's battle with his brothers represents life's inner turmoils, demons that must be conquered. Cultivate what is inside, what lies within your heart and you will surely flourish. If rice holds the amertha, the essence of life, then man and rice are one and the same.

I will finish here and continue to gaze at the never-ending rice fields because, despite all these changes, they remain one of the world's most magical sights.