Words

 

Words - those innocuous killers of things good and bad. Go back to the most beautiful scenery you can recall. Now, try and describe it. Kind of robs it of the whole beauty, doesn't it? What happens when a indescribable beauty is met with an expectation to word it in an indefinable space? We lose, and miserably at that.

Why is love any different? We forge bonds that outlast time and yet, sometimes they do not have a definition, they do not have a name. Bonds that seem so intricate and ethereal, that a mere whisper might break them. And sometimes, whispers do. Bonds that make you think that there is a reason to believe in a higher power, to believe in soul-mates, to believe in happiness. Bonds that are so endlessly meaningless that there seems to be a much better chance of moving a wall by pushing against it. And yet, we persist.

We press on when the end has passed us by. We press on when there is nothing to hold on to. We press on when the words, the actions, the love is of no avail. We press on till the nights merge into the days so seamlessly, they seem as one. And yet, we persist.

Words - those harmful harbingers of hope. They make you wait an extra hour even when the wait is futile. They make you see the good in people, the good that is just a blurry illusion to the rest of the world. They make you believe that no matter the outcome of yesterday or the situations of today, tomorrow will be better. They make you hope against hope that a chance exists, that the adage of every cloud having a silver lining could hold true. They make you believe in things that the practical mind and the wise soul vehemently disagree with. And yet, we persist.

We put our pictures, our memories on a wall of cobwebs held by the gossamer strands of hope. We know this, we know all of this. Soon, one memory will be too much. Soon, the wall will come down. Soon, the card house of hopes, of perceived realities and imagined possibilities will fall. Soon, the transparent dreams of tomorrow will shatter on ground realities. And yet, we persist.

Words - they are to blame.

 

…

To Sin – Part 1

There are sins common to all men that lies beyond the boundaries of right and wrong, or black and white. The boundaries defined by ethics or religion or moral conscience or a similar framework of judgment. While right/wrong, good/bad are a matter of perspective and insight, there are sins that are common to men from all walks of life. Morality as defined by this new framework seems more of a holistic understanding as opposed to the one we currently seem to hold.

In a speech given at Hyderabad for a forum discussion on Urban Development ideas, MP Dr. Jayaprakash Narayan spoke of two sins that plagued the country. These sins, according to him, were those of "Unfulfilled potential" and "Avoidable suffering". While it seems like something a personality development guru would have propounded, it is surprising that a politician (and a good one at that!) decides to talk about these as two critical sins. The root or the germinator of this study was this idea from Dr. JP.

Let us step away from the context of a country or a movement to that of our own selves. As we go along, we can try and understand why the focus on a movement can be removed for now, and instead, an individual focus may be mandated. Let us try and isolate these two sins to come to a broader understanding of the current human psyche. For the purpose of better focus (and easier reading!), this article will be divided into 2 parts. The first part will cover human potential and its implications today. The second part will cover unnecessary suffering and learning from that aspect.

 

Unfulfilled potential

Potential : As an individual or as a group?

The foremost and primary movement recognizing the need for humans to achieve their potential was the Human Potential Movement (HPM). Many names drove this movement, the most prominent being Abraham Maslow, Aldous Huxley and George Leonard (who coined the term HPM). The movement took ground on the premise that through the development of a human’s true potential, she would experience exceptional quality of life through happiness, contentment and creativity. And that those who begin to fulfill their dormant potential would direct their actions towards helping others achieve their potential, and thereby bring about positive social change. Idealistic, eh?

Well, the concept itself was not new. We have all studied/heard of Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs at some point in time. The need at the peak of the pyramid, defined as ‘Self actualization’, caters to the same idea. While HPM met some success at the beginning, and still has some followers, it fell into the trap that most movements fall into.
Movements are like individuals. Like a human is governed by his brain and its thoughts, a movement is governed by the few luminaries of the ‘tribe’ who propounded it. As it grows though, the ‘human’ effects of this luminary brain happen to hinder the movement more than it helps. Adherence to the HPM and its requirements led to hindrance in authenticity and encouraged groupthink. Instead of letting people decide what potential meant to them and how they could go about it, the attempt to monetize and commercialize it led to the creation of a rigid framework for achieving potential, which then became ironical, considering what it was started for!

There were and will be more movements that will focus on the human potential in some form or the other. However, like most movements, they are limited in terms of their applicability and relate-ability to a particular generation. There are numerous examples of highly successful movements of their time which did not do much for even the generation succeeding the one it worked in. So let us forget the social/planetary empowerment promised by movements and focus instead on individual empowerment, that has and will be the onus of the individual himself.

Understanding individual potential

In the Humanist Manifesto published in 1933, signatories agreed to the statement that evinced a strong belief in human potential-

“Man is at last becoming aware that he alone is responsible for the realization of the world
of his dreams, that he has within himself the power for its achievement”

While this statement by itself does not say much about potential, it drives at the heart of what potential means to an individual. Potential as defined in the words of Maslow, “What a man can be, he must be”, i.e. to become more and more what one is, to become everything that one is capable of becoming.

This concept isn’t new either. The Renaissance movement was started with the intention to honor learning and to honor men who were striving to achieve their full potential. These people were (and still are) called ‘Polymaths’. Leonardo da Vinci was from this era and is undisputedly, one of the greatest polymaths to ever walk the earth. Michelangelo, Francis Bacon were others. Benjamin Franklin was another polymath – inventor, statesman, businessman, philosopher, and much more. Polymaths are not always geniuses though. Nor is it the other way around. Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein and Marie Curie were considered geniuses, but their exploits and knowledge were confined to some very specific fields. They were widely acknowledged as geniuses but may not be considered polymaths.
Polymaths have larger subject areas and a deeper understanding in these. Its not a ‘jack-of-all-trades’ proposition, they are genuinely good in the fields that they pursue. You may have come across people like this in regular life as well – people who seem who be good at almost everything they do and seem to have answers to so many questions tucked away somewhere in their brains.

Polymaths are not restricted to arts, science, philosophy or other such fields. Consider Max Woosnam, a sporting polymath, considered “the Greatest British sportsman”. Max Woosnam toured Brazil with the famous Corinthians football team in 1913 and later captained Manchester City and the England national football team. He won an Olympic gold medal for tennis, played golf off scratch, scored a century at Lord's, and made a 147 break on the snooker table. He was also one of the 300,000 men to enlist in the first month of the First World War, fought with distinction, and endured the horrors of Gallipoli. He lived up to 72 years, and not long after another decent all-rounder, the journalist, soldier, painter, writer, orator, politician and statesman Winston Churchill.

All historic you say? Need a more recent example? Then turn your attention to Nathan Myhrvold. Nathan was CTO at Microsoft, and is co-founder of the venture capitalist firm ‘Intellectual Ventures’. Apart from being a holder of over a dozen patents, he is an award winning nature and wildlife photographer, a paleontology researcher and academic, a master French chef, author, and a social advocate. Even in pop culture, the concept of a polymath stands out. Case in point: Gregory House of House M.D, Gil Grisson of CSI and Fox Mulder of X-Files. How can one forget that eccentric polymath Sherlock Holmes? So as you might see now, the concept of a polymath is not something historic and not something impossible today. There are people who go about achieving their full potential or at least striving to achieve their full potential, even today.

What is the need for fulfilling one's potential?

Quite simply, we have to go back to Maslow. As much as there is critique for his pyramid of needs, it still remains elementarily what man strives for. The error made today is to club financial success with achieving one’s full potential, while this is far from the truth. Striving to achieve one’s full potential has very little to do with financial success. In fact, it could only be the by-products of one’s quest for achievement.
There are detriments though. The extent and variance of their learning and potential, makes polymaths seem eccentric at times and normal at other times. Forming social relationships and catering to social norms fall by the wayside in favor of furthering one's knowledge. The limits that we place on learning are usually self-imposed. While it may not be possible to be an equivalent of Ph.D in 4-5 very different subjects, the aim must be to learn as much as possible, which is what the famous polymaths have done over the years.

In our world, there is an increasing effort to specialize. Even in a regular profession (unlike doctors, where specialization is necessary), people seek to specialize in one or the other aspect, while leaving out a major chunk of learning. Seek to learn, seek to learn more and seek to learn more varied – this could be the mantra to the path of achieving one’s potential.

To conclude, I would like you to ponder over a famous quote from Robert Heinlein till the next post -

“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.”

 

…

What’s your story of struggle?

 

 

“Time makes heroes but dissolves celebrities. .” - Daniel J. Boorstin

 

The wriggle of an earthworm on rough land does evince us of some sort of struggle. So does the bloody swim of some types of salmon upstream to find love (read: mating). And also, the flight of millions of birds down south for the winter. Every organism on the surface of earth has a story of struggle.

Quite similarly, and yet so differently, we humans have great stories of struggle too. Books on history have had us reading about men over the ages who had struggled to make something of themselves. Yet the most common of struggles is the unseen. It is the struggle we face each day with ourselves. The fight we face with the one who is you, and yet will not let you be yourself. Its amazing how we expect our loved ones to treat us as we are and 'let us be' when we cannot do it ourselves.

Think of this. The people you want to be with, but simply cannot. The group you think you are most like, and yet you cannot be one of them. The dreams that we harbor so deep, and yet they slip away each moment. The naive, optimistic half of our selves that tell us to surge ahead and not worry about the risks is often shadowed by the street-smart, pessimistic half that pushes you to play safe. The voice in your head that plays out a thousand sequences whenever you are faced with a decision. The memories that dwell and parasitically leech upon every moment of today. Its all a struggle. And its all internal. One of the shoe giants summarized this in an ad campaign some years back "Its you V/s. you".

The struggle is not to be greater than yesterday, the struggle really, is to be present in this moment. The struggle is not to think any less of yourself but to think of yourself less. The struggle is not to love less, but to love more and risk losing it all. It is not the things we perceive on the surface level that trouble us, it is the spiritual side of things that we all see from time to time and are scared by what we see.

But with this struggle comes pain, comes rejection. We are often faced with people, choices, consequences that push us against a proverbial wall. And yet there is much to be gained from this pain, from this rejection. Maybe it is the naive, optimistic half of me that is writing this now, but there is a lot that one learns from pain. People familiar to the science behind bodybuilding would know that the real growth of muscular tissue happens post the breakdown of fibers. It is post the breakdown and with proper nourishment that one gains musculature. Not too different from that is the science behind our personal growth. The breakdowns in our lives are there for a reason. It is the nourishment post the breakdown that lets you grow. And yet, we wallop in our misery and find a weird joy in remaining miserable, instead of nourishing the mind to recoup.

Another cripple that we run by, that snatches the struggle from us is the ease of procurement. We constantly seek templates for work, we seek precedents to do any task assigned to us. We find so many shortcuts to do a task that we forget or do not even learn the way to do the task normally. And in the process, we achieve a fleeting success. The kind that leaves you unsatisfied. Louis Binstock said this in a way that makes more sense “Too often the shortcut, the line of least resistance, is responsible for evanescent and unsatisfactory success.” Enough said.

Being present is hard. Being in the moment and committing every ounce of energy and drive to what you are doing at this moment is not easy to do. But it is the struggle to achieve this that drives people to greatness. Superior athletes that compete on similar grounds do not lose because they prepare any less, or that they are slower, weaker than their counterparts who win by a whisker. After the line of ability has been crossed, it is the state of 'now' that makes winners. Mihaly Cziksentmihalyi spoke about the concept of 'flow' through his research. A state of mind when the body is on autopilot and yet performs better than the mind can will it to perform. In flow, the emotions are not just contained and channeled, but positive, energized, and aligned with the task at hand. We have all felt such moments of 'flow' in our lives. The struggle is to be able to turn this flow on and off as we will it.

The learning, if any, from the struggle we see around us is quite simple. We see it in the people we meet everyday. From the most common man you meet each day to the extraordinary humans that chance upon our lives every once in a while, they are all in a state of struggle. It is in our nature to be. The lesson is not the struggle itself, but the stage of comfort one gets into from taking on the struggle. Change is tough, and unfavorable change is tougher. Getting to a state when you can 'roll with the punches' and yet win the fight is a struggle. It is what we all aspire to reach. At least it should be.

 

…

Words

 

The broken windows of the room let a cold, dark air sweep through. He sat there, alone. He only awaited the next cold wave. To awake him, to make him move. Wave after wave, cold breezes gushed at him and broke against his slouched frame. He did not move though.

Her words resonated in his ears. Words that are seldom used to describe a person you love. Words that are used one at a time but in his case, were used all at once. Words and phrases like 'complacent', 'lazy','wasted potential', 'never took risks', 'unmotivated', among many others. Like a statue should remember the cuts that chipped away the most stone, he recalled these phrases as the ones that hurt most.

Another cold gust swept through the room. A chill ran through him and the hair on his arms stood up to protest it. His thoughts, though, remained with that morning. She had moved away. She packed her bags that morning and left the house, but somehow she had moved away much before that. He did not blame her. She deserved a better life, and the man she now loved, would provide that life.
He looked out of the broken window pane. A frail tree in the distance was swinging violently with the gusts of wind. With each toss, the tree seemed to get weaker. It was as though it had given up, and was now only waiting for the final blow that strikes it down. They were much akin, him and this tree. He recalled the last happy moment he spent with her. It seemed so long ago. One weekend, she had come home with a packet of cake mix. She wanted to learn to bake. The look on her face that day was worth a man's life in hell, if that's what it cost. Her eyes beamed, her words did not stop flowing, her hands were trembling with excitement and her voice oscillated between varying tones of energy. It seems so long ago now.

The streetlights outside his window flickered with the cold wind. He did not realize that he had been sitting in the dark. He also did not realize that he had left the radio on. A voice echoed through the room. It was another song, but somehow it was not just any other. Tear drops rushed to his eyes as if to distract the memories that were conjured up in his mind now. He brushed them away; he had to.

The cold air was getting severe by the minute. He cupped his head in his exasperated hands and took a deep breath,  filling up cold air in his lungs. He arose from the seat with a jerk, and mindlessly went to the storeroom. He returns with a hammer and a small plank. Deftly, and carefully, he nails the plank to cover the hole in the window pane. He switches on the lights and the heater. He walks up to a desk and writes "Complacent, Lazy, Wasted potential, Never took risks, Unmotivated" on a piece of paper. He pins it on the wall above the desk. Life, as he knew it, would not be the same ever again.

 

…

A Tale of 3 Letters

 

 

Dear M,

My beloved, fair M. I miss you so much it hurts my heart with a pain beyond the shrapnel bits that the enemy has lodged in me. I ache to live a day more that I may reach you safe. Each day my arms cry out for more strength that I may reach you and hold you in my embrace. We are in the wrong times, M. There is nothing I want more than to someday raise the kids we will have, on a quiet farmyard, with your love and warmth guiding my days.

Wars are a cruel and unjust means of politics, M. So many men shed their blood, and to what avail? To allow a bench of narrow-minded, deep-pocketed bureaucrats to live better? It is hard to watch my men being demoralized at the hands of this travesty my love. My love for you is only superseded by my love for my country, and it still is a battle that rages on. The only hope I have is to end this war and come home to you.

Oh, how the days pass by M.. It seems years ago that I last saw you, and I keep hurting within. I keep praying that the scars of the war do not erase my visage from your heart. For now and ever more, I have only loved you with every nerve in my body. Even now, frail and battered by the beating of the battle I return from, my heart still beats your name. M. I remember the time when we walked up the fields on the river banks. It was nearing twilight. For years, I have travelled the world and have seen many wondrous things, but I cannot ever recall seeing anything as wonderful and beauteous as your visage that day. I can remember it like it happened yesterday. Oh, the agony of passing hours, M. I kept hoping and praying for the hours to pass by slower so I may walk with you for a little longer. Your gentle, caring hands in my strong hands, clasped ever so firm that I should never let go. And I will never let go, M.

The beating of time is hard, no matter what the outcome of this war, we shall all be beaten. There is an uncanny sense of guilt to being here. While my heart is at guilt being away from the woman who inhabits my senses, my mind is at war with the reasons for being here for more time. I do not know these enemies anymore than they know me. Someone among them may be writing a letter this moment to their love as I am writing this moment. Yet tomorrow, at the break of day, we shall fight each other till one of us no longer lives. I despise being in this war M.

There are a few hours to daybreak, and I must return to rest for the day ahead. I could not rest until I wrote to you my love. The war’s end is nearing. Sometime soon, this will all be over, and we shall be one again. I hope you will await me as I run across the fields to your door. I hope to walk with you once more along the river banks, hand in hand for days at a stretch, if time would let us be. Until that day, M, hope is all we have. And love.. Strong, abundant and loyal love. Take care of my love, M.

Yours  forever,

J.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

My eternal love J,

I received your letter today and it is still with moist eyes that I focus on the words I now write. It pains me to spend each moment away from you, hoping and wishing for your return. I pine in the moments that bring your memories to flood my thoughts, because there are so many memories of you, and so many fond ones. I wish it were easier, I wish I was stronger to endure this separation in time.

The weather has turned gloomier than ever before. It has been 3 months since I last saw you. The light dancing off your face when you left that summer morning still haunts me, for I believe you took the light along with you. It is easier to know that each passing day brings me one day closer to being with you, but each hour passes by in count of that one day when you shall return. When will you return home, my love?

I pray each day for your life and my love. I pray for the battle wounds to heal quickly or pass their pain to me to endure. The pain of being without you has made me stronger to pain. With every news that comes into being, I pray that it has the end of war in its content. I await in open arms to the day you will return, my love.

Of course, I do remember that day, when we walked along the river bank. I had never felt such warmth in my hand before. It was as though the warmth was surreal, it was emanating from your strong loving heart. These are much colder days without you here. It is still summer, and yet neither its light nor warmth has ever been close in compare to your warmth, your light.

I know that the times are trying, my love. I wish it were easier for us both. We will persist on this path, for this is the path that similar kindred spirits have walked before us. Love is the quiet, soothing balm for a hundred wounds, and I pray that my love will soothe your wounds as your love soothes the hurt I harbor within me.

May Glory be yours and the Gods by your side. May the valiant strength of your arms strike down upon those that stand before the country that we both love so deeply. Now and forever more, I will be strong knowing how you will be safe because you will be guarded by your brethren as they will be guarded by you.

I will await with my ears to the ground, your mere footsteps shall awake my spirits and I shall run to meet you across the fields. Until then, guard thee well. And fight valiantly, my love.

Eternally yours,

M.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

---TELEGRAM----

Respected Madam,

It is with a heavy heart and a broken spirit that we write this to you. We regret to inform you that Col. J has passed into heavenly abode this morning.

The war has ended this morning, but has come with a severe loss to us. It was a death that he valiantly embraced. He fought for several hours, rallying around his men and guarding the honor of his country and his battalion. He fought till his last breath could. The country has lost one of its bravest sons and its finest soldier. He will be revered in our memories forever more.

Please accept our heartfelt condolences. Members of the battalion will escort Col. J and his possessions home by this Friday.

Maj.Gen. K

---------------------------------------------------------------

24

 

What is the power of 24 hours? You can experience an entire array of emotions within 24 hours. You can go from being overly ecstatic to being totally depressed in a matter of a day. Heck, there’s even a TV show on the theme!

You could meet "the one" in one day. You could spend a day with the person you want to spend it with and end it on a high note. You could find your dream and decide to pursue it in one day. You can forget pain and learn to move on in one day.
You could also lose a friend in a fight you had on one day. You could lose a loved one to death on one day. That dream you have had for years now could get shattered in a day. It is only one day and yet its powers are practically limitless.

Its amazing how different we all use the same time given to us. Everyone is given the same 24 hours, some end up going through the roller coaster of emotions and yet come out successful or accomplished at the end. And yet some of us end on an ebb.
If you had visualized a life that was better, that meant more to you, it is about time you picked it up and ran with it. This could be your one day.  If you thought you needed to get physically fit, and just wanted to start, pick this one day and start! Who drives you? What motivates you to get up in the morning groggy eyed and yet without regret or pain to start doing something? If you've found it, and are afraid to walk the path, decide to walk just 5 steps on that path today.

With the limitation of time, also comes the energy that we use to fill it. If everyone were to follow Tony Schwartz's belief on 'Energy Management' rather than managing just their time, it would make so much sense in what we did. To be able to physically do everything that we mentally set out to do, in a way that agrees with our spiritual mindset and remaining loyal and observant of our emotions in doing it - this is the crux of energy management.

Life has never been easy. Well, maybe in bits and pieces! It usually demands that you meet it all the way, nothing half way will ever impress life. When you have such a demanding boss, it seems inevitable to prepare to be in shape for the same, in all possible forms. For all you know, today might be the last day. And if its not, rejoice! For you still live to see the next day..

 

…

Today

 

 

Today she went from a dear shortened name to the one the whole world knows her by.

Today she went from being the pain I fondly lodged in my heart to the pain I don't know if I want to hold on to.

Today I questioned the love I had for her because I had to question her love for me.

Today I realized the inevitability of the world we live in, how different despite it being the same world.

Today I sought once more her approval, once more to appease her, to see in her eyes the truth I so badly want to find.

Today I sunk the maniac heart to the depths of its madness to see once more if a reason existed to persist.

Today I realized the timelessness of strength and the uselessness of experience in matters of the heart.

Today more than yesterday and much more than the day before, I realized how strong my affinity to her is..

 

…

Riding through hell into eternity

 

 

“I hate public transit. The smell of sweat, bodies gnashing against each other, an occasional motion-sick traveler.. The more I travel by this, the more I want to ensure that sick people are banned from traveling.. Coughing, sneezing, sounds of burps.. I want to put a stop to it all.
And hence, this week I called it quits with public service. If I was going somewhere, it was going to be fueled by my unending desire to get somewhere and the ability of my foot or my bike to take me there.

I am riding right this moment. With the proverbial wind in my crop cut hair and the sound of the engine grunting like a Arabian in its prime. The standup comedy in my head that always goes into overdrive in a public transit is silent now. No running commentary, no deep thoughts, nothing. Just the rhythm of a random song and a catchy beat guide my speed and a tapping foot on the footrest.
Riding alone into a city I've never been to, to stay at a place I haven't heard of, to try to converse in a language that I can only understand in aural terms, to eat a cuisine I've yet to savour fully..the uniqueness of this experience does not overwhelm me.

 

To be closer to the elements, including dust, gives one an old-world feel in his life. It reminds one of a time when gadgets and gizmos didn't rule our schedules, where meeting a person for a cuppa somewhere brought more joy than interacting with them online (whatever the form). Even as my Blackberry rests on silent in my bag pocket,I do not bother checking it. Apart from this and my watch, I've left every other device back home. This trip doesn't warrant communicating with anyone unless absolutely necessary.

 

No faces, no name, no places, no dame – nothing intimidates my memories. It is akin to Bellerophon riding Pegasus to slay the Chimera. Astride this beast, nothing seems impossible, nothing seems out of reach – even the skies are for the taking. Yet common to fate and the ties that bind us both, the machine and me, to the real world, we return home. Knowing fully well that tomorrow will bring with it more of the impossible, and knowing fully well that the strength to overcome it lies not far from oneself.”

 

…

Gen Next?

 

 

We are a miserable generation. A generation of confused, battered souls that prides itself with the devices that have come to dictate our lives. A generation that wants more and expects more but is not willing to work for it. A generation that takes pride in the national anthem when its sung but will not bat an eyelid as they fill numerous applications to study and settle abroad. "I'll come back. I want to do something for my country". These words were said at least for sentiment at some point of time. Now even that sentiment is missing. We cuss at the country that provided 20+ years of life and move away as if it were just another dysfunctional relationship. The generation that looks at the recent Cadbury's Ad and goes "aww..I want that" without putting the effort to get there and maintain a relationship.

 

 

Our generation that thinks that trying hard is uncool,that it should look like it came without effort. The fact that info is just a few clicks away makes us take knowledge for granted. That ‘being’ means much more than just ‘doing’. We say we live life unplugged but are bound by unseen wires to the very technology that lets us live unplugged. We know we can take tech for granted because it is not going to stay the same. But we do not take a moment to appreciate the world around us, because we are too busy multitasking. Or at least the twisted version of it. True multitasking is productive. Checking mails, FB, SMS during work is not multitasking, its just being distracted! We've all done it and continue doing it each day..

Recall the last time you thanked someone for something they did. Not a customary 'thanks', but genuinely meant it within you. I challenge you to recall more than 5 in the past month, or two. We are not only ungrateful, we're also more selfish. The world expects us to be. Each day Darwin and his theories bear light as we struggle in the survival of the fittest.. And in the course of this struggle, we end up becoming selfish. Fending for ourselves becomes our primary instinct.

We're not progressing, we're retrogressing. Not only in clothing, but in manners, in application, we are increasingly going backward towards the era of the Cro-Magnon man. Survival has begun to mean more than co-existence. Evolution hasn't done much mentally for us. Sure we've made some tech advances, made touch screens, speakers that blow one's ears (literally), sent dogs and men into outer space and so on..but have our minds evolved, really? We just have shifted our focus. And all that is seemingly human; that which binds us to other humans, is taking a back seat. Even chivalry, which was ordained as a highly valued virtue has become a laughable issue.

Motivation theories were in fear of people becoming more profit driven and less purpose driven. And yet, the problem today is that we're highly purpose driven to making more profit, for us. That money has become a blinding higher purpose. Among the ones who have worked, you must have made a faint commitment to making someone's life better when you start earning. Ask only yourselves, have you?

Its high time they stop calling us anything like the generation that will lead us to the next century. If anything, we're only taking it back.

Awake now.. Before its too late..

 

…

Smitten – Part 3 : The Intro

 

 

Sam had approached the week with some gusto. A week had passed and he kept hoping that she would turn up at least once. To his ill-fated mornings, she never turned up. At least, not in the same bus ever again.

“Maybe she was visiting the city. You know? Maybe she doesn’t work here after all” said Ranil, hoping to assure him.

“At 8 in the morning, which girl would roam about Bangalore if she didn’t have to go to work?” retorted Sam.

He was right, thought Ranil. He wouldn’t normally expect Sam to work his mind this quickly but here he was, pointing out the flaw in his logic.

“You’re right. Look, it’s a Friday. She might come on a Monday, you can never say. Infinite possibilities…” said Ranil.

“Is that your company’s tagline? Infinite possibilities? Really?” asked Sam, whimsically.

“Ok, forget that. You are coming to the play tonight right. Don’t make excuses like the last time and stay at home. This will be good for you. You might find a new dream girl there, you know?” he said, nudging Sam.

Sam looked up and gave an empty stare. Ranil shook his head and looked out the window non-chalantly.

All of the week, Sam had spent in misery. Love does that, doesn’t it? It eats you up little by little each day, and the more you try to regain a normal state, the more you slip away from what currently was. Normal suddenly doesn’t seem so normal once you’ve seen what you can be. Quicksand - that should have been a synonym for love. Somehow no one else had quite felt this way to call love that, he thought to himself.

That evening, Sam dragged his feet to get to the play. His friends awaited him at the reception. They greeted each other and awaited the usher to let the people enter. Sam behaved as normal as he could be, only Ranil knowing his sordid plight, and only partially.

A burst of giggles was heard a few feet away from where they stood. A group of friends, mostly girls, were sharing an old joke and laughing about it. Sam looked up at the crowd. It’s nice to share a joke in a group, he thought. He quickly surveyed the group. A thin guy in a muscle tee, a girl who constantly kept playing with her hair, a girl in blue rimmed spectacles…

“That’s her!” screamed Sam.

Unmindful of the crowd around him, he had let out a loud, excited yell. Ranil walked upto him. People gave him a quizzical look and went about their business as usual.

“The bus girl? Where is she?” he asked.

“There. In that group. The one wearing the blue specs” he exclaimed, still unable to hold his enthusiasm down.

“Her?” asked Ranil “Are you sure it’s her?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. That’s her alright. Same glasses, same smile, same laughter. It’s her, no doubt” he said.

Ranil smiled. He walked up to the group now. Sam froze as he stood.

“What is he doing? I thought I was the mad one!” he muttered, but stood still, hoping for the least embarrassment this situation could lend.

A few minutes later, Ranil seemed to be making some progress, because they seemed to be talking to him normally. No screaming, no anger, no slaps. Yet.

After a few more minutes, Ranil beckoned to Sam to come to them. Sam tried his best to play cool and waved back, indicating it was alright and he was going to stay right there. Comfortable, and unhurt.

Ranil beckoned a second time, and this time, Sam didn’t see any sense standing and making an ass of himself there. He might as well do it there in front of her. So he mustered his courage and walked up to where they were standing. His eyes were planted firmly on her, but kept shifting focus to avoid looking like a creep. After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the group.

“Guys, this is Samarth, also known as Sam. And Sam, this is my friend Nikki and her gang. I’m sorry I can’t remember all your names” he joked, as the whole group smiled at Sam. “Let me try anyway, this is…”

Sam muttered a seemingly warm “Hi” to everyone in the group as Ranil did his best to remember their names and introduce them, albeit in a coarse voice, dry from anticipation.

“And this is Neena. Neena joined work at Bangalore a few days back” he said as he finally introduced the only person in the group that mattered.

“Hello” said Sam, shaking her hands.

“Hi” she said.

A short pause. And the rest, as they say is as history would write it.

…

Dreams, and their weird power of changing us.

Smitten – Part 2 : The Dreamer

 

 

All of yesterday, Sam had spent his time pondering over those few minutes on the bus. He kept wondering when he would see her next and if he would see her at all. He counted the hours into the day, and work suffered as a result. He didn’t care.

It wasn’t surprising though, that the next morning he arrived at the stop much before Ranil did. Impeccably dressed, neatly combed and suave, both in attitude and style. It wasn’t unlike how he dressed every day, but somehow he seemed to be a man on a mission today.

“So, all set to meet her again today, eh?” asked Ranil mischievously, as he arrived at the stop.

“See, this is why I shouldn’t tell you things. You’re the one who says pessimism is overrated. I’m showing some optimism for the first time, is that so wrong?” Sam blurted.

“You still have to work on your mood though” retorted Ranil,”can’t expect to charm her with a tone like that”

“I’m sorry dude. I’m on edge today, really. I know you’ve seen me at my worst, but trust me, today I’m in a different zone. I really hope I see her today” said Sam.

“You plan to approach her and talk to her??” asked a surprised Ranil. He had known Sam for so many years, it seemed very unlikely that Sam would go up to a girl and make conversation.

“I’m hoping I will. But you know I can get” he said.

Ranil smiled. Yep, he knew.

“Here’s the bus now. Good luck buddy boy” said Ranil, walking upto the bus.

Sam took a deep breath and followed suit. He got in at the center door behind Ranil, and hurried up the steps to where Ranil was standing.

For a good minute, Sam looked at everyone in the bus, trying to see if she was there. He kept playing back the memories of the day before, hoping that they aid him remembering her.

“Do you see her?” he asked Ranil.

“See her?” Ranil asked with a quizzical look, “I didn’t even see the girl yesterday. If it wasn’t for your confession on the way back, I’d not have even known about it“

“Utter waste you are!” he muttered to Ranil, moving from side to side, trying to see if she was there. Today his luck had run out on him.

“Maybe she took another bus. It is a public bus. It’s not like she goes by the same bus everyday like we do” reassured Ranil.

“That’s what we’re doing wrong!” exclaimed Sam. “We must start traveling in different buses from now. All in the same direction but different bus numbers. That should do it, I should be able to see her then”

“Whoa Romeo! Relax. You have a better chance of meeting her if you stick to one bus, trust me” said Ranil.

He had a point there. It made more sense once he thought of it. Besides, Ranil was an ace at statistics. It is quite unlikely that he was wrong about these things.

Assured about the plan for the next month or so, Sam still was restless. At every traffic signal, he peeked out the window as any bus pulled up by the side, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of her.

“Would you stop it? They’ll ban us from public buses if you behave like this” mocked Ranil.

“Yes, yes. I just don’t know how I can get through the day without seeing her” sighed Sam.

“You’re nuts! You get through it just like you did the day before you met her. You whine through the day, work your ass off and get back to the room and whine some more. Nothing has changed. Stop making a big deal of it” said Ranil, now getting a little irritated with Sam.

“It’s like a reflection in the water dude. When its calm, it’s all the same, unchanged. But once a pebble falls in, the whole surface is disturbed. Ripple effect, you know?” said Sam, almost philosophically.

Ranil fell silent. He had known Sam for a long time now. Always a dreamer, and always restless, Sam lived in a world that very few others seemed to understand. It was why he always struggled with the commonalities of the world around him. He could never remain bogged down by them. Smiling at his friend, and the understanding that their friendship had brought to each other’s lives, Ranil was silent for the rest of the journey. He knew that Sam had now crossed the point of return.

 

…

(To be contd.)

Smitten – Part 1

 

 

“Here we are again” he muttered to himself, waiting at the bus stop.

Another day, another morning in this city. Samarth was in his usual blues, inside and outside.

“Why do they call it Monday blues anyway?” he asked Ranil, who patiently waited for his ride. “It’s not like it gets any better on a Wednesday!”

“OK, firstly calm down. It’s just a bunch of people waiting for a bus. And why are you so grumpy so early in the day?” asked Ranil, in his trademark calm manner.

“Why?? Are you really asking me why I’m grumpy?” blurted Samarth. “The same reason all of these people are. The same sick jobs, the same routines, the same bus routes. Everyone is sick of it. A bus comes in, and a chasm opens in a squeal and dozens of people get off. And a dozen more get in. And it squeals and gets moving again, a hundred times each and every day. They all hate it.”

“No Sam, I think you’re speaking about yourself. Relax, the bus is here” Ranil says, as he walks towards it.

Sam follows suit after a shrug. There’s not much one can do about it anyway. It seems to be the same everywhere, he assured himself. The bus starts to move before Sam could get on board. To avoid missing it, he gets in through the front door instead of the center like Ranil did.

“Late again, Sir?” the driver quipped.

“Yes Uncle”, he smiled weakly and headed towards when Ranil was standing. The driver smirked, not taking the ‘Uncle’ comment too well.

“He knows I’m usually late? The bus driver? Of a public bus? How routine has my life become?” he muttered, and stumbled towards the center.

As he walks through, a light perfume titillated his senses. He couldn’t look at the face, but he managed to see that she was wearing an orange chudidar.

“You’ll never change, will you?” smiled Ranil, as he placed a hand over Sam’s shoulder.

Sam wasn’t listening. He was trying to see the girl that he had just passed.

“Orange, orange… Orange!” he exclaimed as he saw her.

Dressed in a simple orange hued chudidar, she was holding the overhead handle grip that all buses seem to have. A maroon-watch strap adorned an adequately fair hand, that was partly covering her face. She was wearing glasses, not very thick rimmed but enough to notice that they were a regular pair. Light blue and quite unlike any frame he had seen before. Unique design, he thought. Her eyes lit up now and then as she spoke, and he could see her eyes smile when her companion said something funny. Even from across this space and despite his morning blues, he could have argued that they were the most gorgeous pair of eyes he’d seen in a long time.

She lowered her hand to gesture to her friend about something. Sam gasped in awe as he saw her now. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he had seen. But there is a charm that some women exude that is quite incomparable to any beauty, ever. She was that and more. Simple, classy, exuberant and charming, he could go on in his rant describing her in his head. Ranil was talking to Sam all this while but not one word had gone through.

“In the most unlikely of places, one finds inspiration” he said out loud, forgetting where he was.

“Sam, what’s the matter with you?” said Ranil as he tugged at his hand.

“What?”

“You’re weirder than usual today dude. Is everything ok?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. They just got better” he said, and smiled at Ranil.

“Ok, good. Our stop is the next one. Stop daydreaming for some time”

“I’m getting down this early?” he thought in a mix of surprise and anxiety. Every morning, he would spend the drabbest 30 mins of his day on this journey to the office. And yet today, it seemed to have gone by in a flash.

A train of thoughts ran through his head now. How will I remember her when I see her the next time? Her glasses, never seen anything like it. Her smile; and that laughter that seemed to have been sponsored by the who’s-who of the Indian Dental Association, perfect in every way. He knew he couldn’t forget her for quite some time.

‘Will she remember me? Has she even seen me?’ he wondered.

But the time for questions was done. The bus screeched to a halt. Ranil tugged at his arm to get down as Sam reluctantly alighted the bus. He kept looking through the large, lightly-tinted windows to see her again. She was still busy in conversation with her friend.

 

…

(To be contd.)

8 Questions – Part 1

 

With new found time, I was able to think a little about the things that meant most to me. Somewhere in that process, there were a few questions that surfaced which force you think. So thought I might share them here-

1. Why is it that the more I read/contemplate, the less ambitious I get?

   As I’ve observed, the more we read about philosophy/spirituality, the more grounded we get. As that happens, we begin to lose value for the material things in life. Everything that seemed so important and worthy a couple of years back, will begin to seem futile.

2. Will bachelors be able to avoid a mid-life crisis?

   From the men I’ve observed, there is hardly any married male who is not going through/has not already gone through a mid-life crisis. There are variations in the magnitude of the crisis depending on the individual’s equanimity, but bachelors don’t seem to be affected by it. The few single men in their 40s have encountered a crisis much earlier in life, when others seem settled with families and they were not. But being younger gave a better chance of dealing with the crisis as opposed to the married ones who dealt with it at an older age. This could just be a few exceptions from the norm, but it does seem like a pertinent question.

3. Will we raise kids who will make a name for us in history or will we make history worth remembrance by our kids?

   In the movie ‘I.Q.’, Meg Ryan plays Einstein’s fictional niece, Catherine Boyd, who believes that her contribution to the world would be through her children. As far-fetched as that may sound, it still seems to be a question one could ask. Is that why people seek intelligent partners? So their progeny may be smarter? Funny if it turns out to be true.

4. What foundations are we building – for change or for growth or both?

   When the Duke of Wellington defeated Napoleon, he said he had prepared for the battle from ever since he was in school. The foundations laid then, he says, aided him to defeat the man who set out to conquer the world. When some radical idea changes our mind, we  believe it was an instant of illumination that did it, but really, our minds were being conditioned for this change through multitudes of experiences. However, when we grow as individuals – either personally or professionally, our growth is again conditioned by the foundations laid by our experiences and lessons registered in the mind.

5. Why are moral development theories skewed?

    Harvard psychologist, Carol Gilligan points out in her groundbreaking book ‘In a Different Voice’, that moral development theories propounded so far have mostly been based on men. Recall the theories that you can recall. Somehow, every theory/case on morality seems to be associated with some man/group of men. Her theory makes sense too – women probably reason with morality quite differently from how men do.

6. How much do parents affect a kid’s growth as an individual?

   In the book ‘The Nurture Assumption’, Judith Rich Harris put forward a theory on behavioral genetics that parents do not mold their children beyond the parental genetic contribution. The biggest socializers of their children are their peers, according to her. I would question that on both children raised in insecure households and  in introvert kids, but overall the theory makes sense. It also brings to mind the many times you parents asked you to keep good company!

7. Why is the TV an idiot box?

   This question really is the depth of my joblessness! But I seem to have found an interesting answer. It simplifies reality. When you look at a character/role on TV being shown as an evil, manipulative person, we buy it. We do not need to process it deeply. Whereas in the real world, people do not go about giving evil looks in slow motion – we need to use multiple inputs to judge people. By making it simple to process information, we are skipping critical analysis that our brains perform otherwise. This explains why watching TV relaxes – you can switch off for hours together without requiring to process the information conveyed.

8. How different are the parental instincts of animals and birds with respect to humans?

   Come to think of it, animals and birds only fend for their young ones for short intervals. Perhaps if a ratio of the nursing period to life expectancy was calculated for other species Vs. humans, nearly equal ratios could come up. However, it still seems like a short period in terms of absolute time. They are trained to take care of themselves from an early age, at least from the stage when they can process their food themselves. This puts early survival instincts in these species. In humans, we are cared for almost till our late 20s in our country and early 20s in other countries! The learning curve is much more gradual for us to pick up survival skills and complex situation handling. The longer time period may have to do with the complex structure of our upbringing and the enigmatic way humans operate in the world.

Well, these questions seemed important to me right now. I hope to make this a regular series every two months or so – ergo the Part 1 in the title. Let me know what you think of these questions and if you have any to add to the list.

…

History

 

For those of you who have a passion for teaching or the ones who have a crush on Ryan Reynolds, you might have caught the school-flick ‘School of Life’ about the ‘coming of age’ (so to speak) of a high school teacher. Ryan Reynolds teaches students that its not His-tory but His/Her-story.. Corny as that may sound, the connection between one’s past and present is customized to deliver the maximum level of user experience possible! :D

Consider the elements from history that keep repeating themselves. First off, think of the son who always aspires to be like his father as a kid and as far away from his fathers personality as a grown up. No matter what he does to change his behavior and mould it in a way he desires, sooner or later, the father catches up to the son. Practical application of the “Son becomes the father, father becomes the son” theory!

People keep thinking that the mistakes they make in past relationships won’t keep happening as they ‘evolve’ and get stronger. Somehow, our core beliefs as we faced the first conflicts are not drastically different from our core beliefs as we evolve. Our maturity may have changed, but our conflict resolution is not totally evolved. Our views and priorities may have changed, but our necessities and insecurities only get worse.

The past has a funny way of catching up to you in one form or the other. And like every problem out there, solutions are bound to make inroads in one form or the other as well. There are hypnotism sessions and therapy centers that help individuals deal with the trauma/memories associated with their past. People come up with their own ways of dealing with their past, some much weirder than the rest! Whatever works should be used whenever needed.

Our past is like our shadow, and aptly so. No matter how much we try, we won’t lose it except maybe a few times each day. People won’t sense its relevance on the current situation unless they pay close attention to it. The theories, methods, counseling, hypnotism may all help you ignore or live with your past, but getting rid of its effect is near impossible. Its like a perpetual learning curve that has no fixed equation and thereby, no fixed slope. All we can hope for is that for a majority of the time, the curve shows a positive curve. Learning as much as we can from the past, puts us in a better frame for the present. Or so we may hope.

Till next time, cheers!

 

…

How?

 

 

• How you do you it? How do you make a man feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time? How does every span of time seem shorter when it is associated with you?

• How is it that you can stay so unperturbed while the turmoil in me in eating me whole? How is it that you can smile through your own pain when I can’t even smile through yours?

• How is it possible that I see you everyday and yet yearn to see you one last time more? How difficult will it be with you gone and not having anything to look forward to at each meal?

• How tough is it to walk up to you and tell you everything all at once? How much tougher is it to hold it all within, waiting to explode?

• How convincing can I be when I tell myself that my silence is for the best? How agreeable can I be when I reason that some man will love you more than I do?

• How calm can I be when jealousy swirls at the surface, disturbing every transient memory? How angry can I get when you praise another man, when I can see the lips that do the praising?

• How sane will I be in a few weeks from now, knowing your eyes would not meet mine for a long time to come? How brave will my spirit be, to pick up the pieces scattered plainly around me?

…