LucidityinMotion

so what is Onam?

2011-10-19T06:18:00.000-07:00

An interesting question posted in a personality contest at my firm…explain the legend of Onam and its purpose. Something you would expect every mallu to answer convincingly. Maybe the situation overwhelmed the contestants. Sitting out there my mind wandered and what struck me as odd was the legend itself. A sad and noble tale where the heavens played foul.

Here is this good king who gets taught a lesson, by Vishnu himself. One expects Vishnu to crack some sense into Lord Indra and his lot and ask them to clean up their act. Instead, Uncle Vishnu decides to entertain Indra(!) and decides to punish our poor Mahabali…comes down camouflaged as a poor Brahmin and asks for a some real estate…even when Mahabali realizes the trap set, all he asks is just an annual trip to be with his people…I tell you, the legend never made sense…

So what are we celebrating then? I believe we are not celebrating a giant personality’s (if ever there was one!) nobility or sacrifice but rather an ideal. An ‘ideal governance’ when things were just perfect…a time when things were considered the best…there are some important ‘take-aways’ in this story. One, a suggestion that, probably, there is no political system that can better a benevolent autocracy. When you have a perfect political system, what you essentially achieve is ‘heaven’ right here on earth. Two, and more importantly, heaven is not something elusive but one, that can be recreated by an human being with the right conduct.

Heaven was created in Kerala. My home state. And perhaps, that explains the label ‘God’s own country’ too.. No wonder, Indra and the devas got really pissed at the idea of losing their differentiation. Maybe the roots to communism and socialistic leanings go back to the times of Mahabali I guess.

The contestants are asked again…how do we celebrate Onam?
Again a voidness…a guilt. All we know these days is watch the latest flicks or buy some crazy discounted gadgets… Senseless consumerism. That’s how we have come to celebrate anything. With the latest malls and exclusive outlets, there is no more thrill in an Onakodi…you get better bargains during clearance sales…I was wondering how in old days, people celebrated their Onam. Perhaps, walked a mile to see a Kathakali Aattam or some Onakali. Today, a mallu would rather be glued to a IPL or teleported to some euro-soccer setting, thanks to globalisation. We have lost as much as we have gained from globalisation. With the visual media onslaught@home, nothing thrills you any more…any day can be made Onam…perhaps Onam makes a difference only to the poor these days.

And Time, the last casualty. Onam in my corporate world is just a two-day affair…no different from a weekend...but should it be just another festive season?…I believe it should have been at least a week, where, the entire system switches off to celebrate an ideal. But I guess, being connected to the rest of the world, one cannot shut shop and celebrate in isolation.

anyway, the guilt lingers…I celebrated Onam with a new 42’ inch LCD jumbo.

A Life less Dignified

2010-10-24T06:35:00.000-07:00

I have often wondered, why I cannot bring myself to settle in an advanced place like US or Europe or Japan. They all stand out in their beauty and the quality of living. Quality of Living. Time well spent. Time, spent on enjoying life. A friend puts it best. ‘Da, you can just plan to go on a trip right now. Grab a bus or flight to Niagara. No, drive all the way there. Or, I could just go out running the whole day Or Trekking. The options are endless….’ . I must agree. Back home, such a idea cannot be presented. Too many loose ends to tie up. Besides, with no social security, you are caught up in an endless whirlpool. To save. Save for a house, for children’s education, for their marriage and possibly retirement, if you happen to be around, that long. A cruise or a summer house is beyond our middle-class. Yet, if you were to switch a few time zones, the pressure to save vanishes. Social Security, public healthcare, public education and some of the finest infrastructure and support systems one can think of. Well, forget all the man-made wonders. Just take a look around and take in the natural beauty of the place and the wonderful change of seasons…..honestly, there isn’t a thing worthwhile back home, I can uphold in defense, with pride.

And so… on an ICE (bullet train) speeding through Switzerland, conversing with a friend of mine,when this question started to trouble me again. I remember, often telling my friends I would much rather prefer roaming the streets of Trivandrum to any other place on earth. Was that a lie? I look outside and I see the greenery of Switzerland. Hmmm...beyond words. So I confronted myself again. What is it that makes me wanna run back all the time? Surely one cannot to be blind to all this beauty you see around. It can’t be the food either; you get almost everything here. Globalization, they say. Family ties? They can be shipped. And after marriage, parents or siblings do not matter anyway. The argumentative Indian streak (in me) mulled over the clichéd excuses one by one. I was searching for a more personal reason. The real reason.

My lucky day…Things seem to fall in order today and the connections emerge. I have often witnessed this miracle before, you would be having no idea, and then suddenly, as you start to explain it to someone ….the problem and the possible reasons ….even as you speak, it dawns on you…it connects…and you speak on, as if you knew all along…. you would hearing your thoughts along with your listener for the first time...but no one knows… That’s subliminal. Like the subconscious (mind) just stepped in.

I argue on with my friend...No, the issue with me has never been the fairytale beauty I see outside. Nor the standard of living nor the food, not even leaving parents. You can either come to terms with all that or fix them. But, I just realize, it is the very ‘whites’ that are sitting right across me. Yes. They are my problem. (Not surprisingly, we are the only browns in the setting (i.e. compartment) too.)

The whites sitting across…..they sit tight, occasionally steal a fleeting glance. Steely eyes. Managed smiles…..Or maybe my perception is all skewed. No matter what they do, take notice or ignore, I detect only prejudice. An inferiority complex? Maybe. But I doubt. For, look at their children. They have got a pretty straightforward expression on their face. They invariably stare or giggle at you. That’s easy to understand. I fascinate them or I appear threatening. But I am ok with that. It is the put-on politeness or condescending approach of an adult that sinks my spirits. Like, making way for you. Sometimes it is both funny and sad to sit and watch the seat next to you being taken the last. Some would rather stand than sit next to you. Actually, it may not be a conscious thing even. Just a harmless reflex to a stranger or an alien. Something from the past. But it makes you feel odd and unwelcome.

Well, it all comes gushing out when you inadvertently screw up things. Recently on a flight to Munich, I was trying to put my cabin bag on the overhead compartment. There wasn’t much space there and I kind of forced it in. A young lady, seated in the row ahead spoke something firmly in german and then shaking her head, got up and pulled out my bag to get her jacket and put it back. Seeing my dumb look, she switched to English and said ‘That jacket shouldn’t get wrinkled, you know’. As if to a kid. I had already got up, offering to help, fumbling words in embarrassment. Though you know your English, it doesn’t help. Later, I watch others take the time to put the luggage carefully, while others waited in the aisle. I may have rushed it but I didn’t want to keep others waiting. I dunno. Throughout the flight I felt guilty and stupid. The whole scene played back and forth in my mind. You know, I might even have more Air Miles to my credit than her… Whatever.It hurts.

I love Europe but it’s the people. Not everyone. I have never found a pattern. Sometimes it is the older people who appear genuine. Sometimes it is the younger educated ones who do not see the color. You encounter it more often in the suburbs than downtowns. Is it an alien reflex, I wonder. But back home, I know we are generally perceived to be friendly and warm towards any foreigner. So it can’t just be the alien factor. Is it then the perception of white being ‘better’?

After defeating a western boxer, ‘Wing Chun’ Master Yip Man echoes my anguish and enlightens the crowd “By fighting this match, I’m not trying to prove Chinese martial arts are better than Western boxing. What I really wanted to say is that, though people have different statuses in life, everybody’s dignity is the same. One man’s integrity is not worth more than another’s. I hope from this moment on, we can start to respect each other” .Courtesy: ‘Ip Man 2 (2010)’

But alas, how can mutual respect come about. Either, ‘the white’ sitting across, needs to have time and patience to know me, up close. Or, he needs to be educated, emotionally intelligent. Possess such refined sensibilities to see greater truths. Well, such gifts are so rare to come by. As to the former (time and patience), it is virtually impossible. Most of our acquaintances in public places are fleeting and short lived. I am absolutely positive a closer interaction with me would naturally dissolve the initial bias, they have of me. I say this confidently because, the people whom I have interacted with, closely; like the Swedish family who rent out their rooms for me and my colleagues at our Swedish office; they all respect and like me for the person I am.

It’s funny that, some others are gifted with so much self-respect, that they can stand up to any snub. They can change an entire perception with a single remark. For instance, a US settled uncle of mine, boasts, he once retorted to a redneck “The only difference is that you came by the first boat”. But then,that’s America. The land of Freedom and Liberty. Besides, I don’t have his guts.

Former American President, John Quincy Adams, arguing against slavery, said, “…the natural state of mankind is freedom. The proof is the length to which a man …will go to regain it, once taken. He will break loose his chains…decimate his enemies…will try and try and try, against all odds, against all prejudices….to get home.” Courtesy: ‘Amistad (1997)’

Yes. Home. That’s why, I wanna go back. My land of Squalor. Everything pales in comparison. Much rather wander the streets of Trivandrum, on borrowed thoughts “Where the mind is without fear and the head held high…”

Feeling Free and Dignified.

As it is in Heaven

2010-10-09T02:36:00.000-07:00

Daniel Dareus, an internationally successful conductor returns to his home village. Comes across an amateur village choir and tries to help them realize something special. It has been his childhood dream to create music to warm a person’s heart. Everyone falls is in love with the celebrity stranger. As the plot progresses, we see a slice of the whole community, the infightings, misgivings, the simplicity and warmth. He is perceived to be special (or just different) that no one really compares themselves to him. The peer envy just ebbs away. This invokes a confession, a frankness and a reflection in everyone as they interact with him.

When I return to India eventually and look back, the small heaven at Alby would probably stand out amidst my wonderful experiences in Europe. I am no Darius but I think the feeling cannot be different. During the initial weeks in Sweden, a bunch of strangers(till then) helped me out. They put me up at their place. Fed me. Did everything to make me feel at home. Voluntarily. Even after I found my own place to settle down, they continued to invite me to spend time with them. A genuineness and warmth that cannot be refused. Those Friday night-outs couched on a sofa have been pure fun. They are from a different professional background(technicians); most of them older than me with grown up kids. There is a twist , though. They seldom talk to each other. The same issues you expect in any peer group setting. Each of them have tales of suspicion to narrate about another. Yet, as the outsider, I see the goodness in each. So I become their Santa, showing up on Fridays with a pizza or something, to switch on the heaven-mode. And everyone forget their prejudices and talk. Well, it is more like talking through me. The vodka helps too.

I recognize and smile at the root cause. One of them got promoted to lead (largely out of convenience) and peers have issues with that. To be in charge, no matter how cautious you are, you might still get consumed by it. The great Ryszard Kapuscinski once wrote “and the essence of authority is that it must manifest its power”. Euphemistically termed ‘politics’, what ensues is the regular mix of misunderstandings and conflict of interests. And to an outsider, it all appears too silly and solvable. But their straightforwardness and rustic take on things do not fail poke my ‘sophisticated’ sensibilities. Ok. I got an additional degree but goodness was never a part of education. It dawns on me that our capacity for goodness can be consumed by a focus on education and career.

For them, I am godsend. A total surprise. Because by designation, I could very well have been their boss. But then, I come through as the nice guy next door. Down to earth. So much so that they lovably ‘order’ me to help with the household chores. Quite amusing to have ‘ordered’ a manager in their life, they claim. But it’s all fun and done in good spirits. They are excellent cooks. Real pros, that you are only happy to play second fiddle chopping onions. On the other hand, I stun them with my discourses in strategy or computer software. They seek advice in English and I brag about like someone who has seen it all. An Imposter maybe but then, my willingness to be the underdog and learn from these veteran chefs (Chilly Chicken for Dummies! ). Everything starts with mutual respect.

One guy talks about his bro who makes things happen in the local Kochi market; like, you can approach this fellow to get things done. Just like that. He has a reputation, people take his word, he can roll money, run errands, all without holding a big job or credit on himself…how does such things happen….I listen in wonderment. Another talks about his ancestry, somewhere in Trichur where an entire community are his relatives..like his grandpa had twenty children and everyone in the street are related….Wonderful stories…I listen…a couple of vodka more, one of them grabs my hand and confesses I am godsend. It’s funny because I seem to understand perfectly what he means. He sees in me a large heart and no ego. But does he realize he has a larger one to see goodness in an impostor. Maybe it is the vodka after all… I only know that I feel genuinely happy, grateful and special in their company.

And I know I am not different. Back home, I am guilty of the same politics, misunderstanding, ego clashes, or plain and simple envy. Yet, when you are not a peer, on a temporary sojourn, with no real agenda you can afford to be nice. When there is no agenda, the possibilities are endless. Believe me, the TGIF evenings have been boisterous. Raucous. Freewheeling. Festive with wonderful cooking, watching old mallu flicks in the background and plain braggadocio. Oh! I forgot the vodka again.

So think about this. Why do we need others to first make you feel special , treat you as special, to actually become special? Or, is it the other way around. Just deciding to be special gets infectious enough. I dunno which of us ignited this goodness. Maybe goodness can be created. Just like that. But I have feeling that heavens can be created through selfless acts.

the only worry though, is that in the film (‘As it is in Heaven’) Daniel Dareus ends up dying after having accomplished his dream of warming another person’s heart.

The Butterflies of a Transport System

2010-08-29T16:54:00.000-07:00

Storstockholms Lokaltrafik (SL). Sweden’s famed Public Transport Network. The ‘Fasta Centrum’ #165 shuttle is about to push off the bus bay at its scheduled time. 09:11. The door closes as the driver turns to drive away. An elderly man, hurries across, knocks on the door to catch his attention. I do not see the driver but gather from the old man’s expression, that, he was probably turned down. He would need to wait another 20 minutes to get to wherever he was going. However, he does not protest as he walks back to the bench.

Amused, a chain of thoughts is triggered…
In my part of the world, this would not have happened. Well, three other things could have happened. One, there is a very good possibility that the driver is sympathetic enough to stop and let the old man in. Or (two) in every probability, some agitated passenger in the bus would have yelled ‘You! stop the bus,can’t you see someone is out there’. And three, it can also happen, that the bus accelerates while the old man curses the driver and transport system of the state.

Despite the insignificance of the social interaction played out before my eyes, the mind races to evaluate the differences, causes and excuses. Which is better? Who was more ‘right’? What are the limits of compassion? At what cost?

Surely, the Swedish approach has been purely, a rational decision. There is every reason for time to be kept. Punctuality is largely a derivative of discipline. Wasting, even a few seconds on a late comer would make a fool of all those who arrived on time and would much rather appreciate starting on time. Stretching further, if you were to let one in, another might show up as well and then, that presents another moral dilemma for our driver (Should I take him too, now that I have allowed one already?). I guess, he lost it the moment he decided to stay beyond 9.11…

Logical, as all these claims may be, they would still infuriate an Indian sensibility. The first emotion that goes through our mind is outright sympathy for the late comer. Tomorrow it could be you, desperately trying to get somewhere. Of course, one could argue that one should have planned, came in advance or found other alternatives…Yet, an Indian mind would allow a leeway ‘surely everything isn’t within your control’. What if the man wasn’t being sloppy after all. What if, something unexpected happened and he just could not make it… But an empathy for the late comer (and mind you, someone is always late) invariably leads to an unreliable system. What can be planned on a transport system that stops to ‘collect’ all people at a bus stop, no matter what.

Yet, I cannot absolve the Indian approach as totally altruistic. Besides sympathy, we have our historic hangovers. We still believe the ‘government’ (or anything ‘public’) is ‘for’ the people and ‘by’ the people but not ‘of’ the people. A feeling, the state is always against the ‘people’. So I should concede my perverse satisfaction when someone shouts at the driver to stop the bus. A transport system that is not ‘for’ the people (i.e. does not wait and collect) defeats the whole purpose of transport. So goes my rustic ‘socialistic’ leanings. Then of course, the economics of it all. With so few resources and so many of us, is punctuality really affordable?
Thoughts continue to dissect...
Just imagine, the conscience or the guilt played out on the poor driver’s mind. A Swedish driver justifies a ‘cold’ rational logic with the comforting thought, the next bus would come at 9.31, as he manages to look away; while, his Indian counterpart cannot guarantee anything in his system, the sense of guilt weighing more and more as he defects…take things into his hand?

And I am amazed. How perfection leaves no room for compassion. How, they are mutually exclusive. Either be cold, rational and be perfect. Or be compassionate and break rules. We cannot have both. And thus,(it cannot get more precarious than this) if the bus driver chooses to leave at 9.12, there you have it. A hopeless and unreliable transport system. It was never obvious until today…my mind races on… to the ‘The Big Fights’ , the endless primetime debates on hot issues. Well,‘An Appalling Public Transport System’ would make a worthy topic… but will they ever understand the Butterfly Effects?

Maybe there are no satisfactory answers to social conundrums. You always excuse yourself ‘comparing apples with oranges’. But guess what? There are only apples and oranges in this world. There are, of course, definite reasons as to why such distinct approaches exist or rather evolve. One often ends up chasing historical and economical roots to a society’s sensibilities, that, to sit in judgment of it would be nothing but silly. But if you can stop explaining or being judgmental, you could perhaps let go the prejudices and perceive the connection in everything. How a philosophy of an approach takes shape, how an individual mind or that of a society acts and reacts to a situation. The situation itself, being a cause. In short, the reciprocity of the multitude of causes and effects. You begin to suspect how it is all connected, how the macro patterns evolve from the micro causes of everyday life and still, manifest in them every moment.

Västberga gårdsväg!...the automated announcement breaks my thoughts….My Stop! I smile as I gather my stuff and get off the #165.

Is this what they call a ‘culture shock’? Butterflies in the stomach?

Schopenhauer would be disappointed

2010-04-11T11:27:00.000-07:00

Chopped off a branch obstructing my way upstairs to terrace the other day. This week, another one has sprouted in its place. Usually I feel frustrated at the menace but on this occasion, after a moment’s thought, I found myself admiring it. There was something respectful about this silent resilience. I know, if I continue to cut, they would still try to grow back. This ‘will’ or stubbornness to survive is so straightforward and powerful. Till its last breath, a plant would just try to do what is expected of it. Grow and further its existence. Simple. I wonder whether we humans would have given up against such odds. This brings me to the question of the will to survive and the will to procreate.

Schopenhauer fundamental premise was that human beings were only motivated by a desire or will to survive. Well, though the will to survive is still strong in most of us, I believe, the will to procreate is waning in commensuration with advancement in our modern lifestyle. And, being busy and short-sighted, the connection between the two (survival and procreation) is no longer obvious. Everything is so positioned, with you at the centre of the universe, feeding this great ego inside you (the ‘I’ factor) that you no longer see the simple purpose to life. And if you wonder whether we can really be so self centered and short sighted in life, explain why we are still heating up earth with rampant industrialization (Carbon credits? My foot!). Are we really worried about generations to come?

Talking about procreation, Mother Nature has done everything within its capacity to make Sex (that traps us to procreate), so enchanting an experience, to make a very strong case for it. From the smallest amoeba, the will to seek ‘immortality’ through procreation has been primal. Yet, with the power of cognition or knowledge, another demon was created. The I or The Ego. It gave rise to this “world-spins-around-me” perception (we Indians call this ‘Maya’). Knowledge and education detached us further from our bearings. And in the process, the ‘will to survive’ superficially survived while Nature seems to have hit back killing the ‘will to procreate’. It is much like an AI robot turning rogue suddenly. Like a perversion taking root triggering it to work against its basic purpose or creator. All species (except modern man) may not be aware that the desire to survive is no different from the desire to procreate. We are perhaps the only idiots who can be comprehend the connection but yet deceive ourselves to think low of procreation.

Look at the sophistications we have achieved. Postponing marriage into late 30s (till it is ‘time’); scheduling children even further (till we are really ‘committed’). Even toy with the idea of adoption. Well, I am not advocating early marriage or mindless procreation but aren’t we taking things a little too far. With more specializations to master and corporate ladders to climb, couples naturally push procreation late into life. Interestingly, they reads tons of books/magazines; undergo counseling to prep themselves for the ‘greatest task’. Once an offspring is ‘delivered’, many no longer have the time to spend with it. The mad rush to secure a future for it would have begun. So naturally, one is put off by the fear and enormity of responsibilities that ensue, leaving the educated and socially well-placed to consider adoption or better, remain childless (Interestingly, the uneducated and socially deprived have other reasons not to be this dumb).

If you believe my observations are unfounded, let me assure you, it already happening. Look at Japan for instance, where, a whole generation has lost the desire to procreate. What they have achieved in the bargain is remarkable. So little resources, so small a nation, so few people, reduced to a dust in WWII, yet, rose to be the second largest economy. And the price they paid for being so workaholic? Well, they have build themselves a unsustainable model, an aging population inching towards extinction. The younger generation is equally caught up in the same illusion.

Again, I am not for procreating mindlessly like birds but, to lose track of a basic purpose of existence seems appalling. All ‘advanced’ societies seems to have put a heavy burden on the individual to succeed in career and life that he fails to understand what he is living for. At the root of all the misplaced priorities, lies the supreme ‘I’ and my life.

I was reminded of a touching scene in 2012. When all is lost for the Indian scientist Satnam, with a huge tidal wave engulfing…what does he do? He looks at his son’s face and leans forward to hold him. Embracing death in the best possible manner. If we all stop to think for a moment…suppose, this is the last moment in your life…what would be the most enriching way to spend it? Hold your little one as close as possible to your bosom and kiss it. Isn’t it everything?

Now, Think about a tree. It’s entire life. All the events in its life. Leaves and branches sprouting. Flowers blooming. Fruits ripening. Everything is for one purpose. To seek eternity through its children.

And when did we take our eyes off from all this magic around us?

A Career's Collateral Damage

2010-03-05T09:45:00.000-08:00

I know it’s bad timing, for, this one is not going to go down well with my old buddies. But it is about time I wrote this piece anyway, at least, to make myself believe that the choices I made were not excuses made in good faith. The trigger though, has been a few flicks I saw recently. Though, not the central theme in ‘Gran Torino(2008)’, old age, especially without one’s spouse where, children start to sell you old age home, was too much of a bother to be wished away ’It’s complicated(2009)’ also shows Meryl Streep (a divorcee) returning home, often, lonely while her children want to get away to do their bit, again, never the ‘complicated’ part in the movie but an underlying reality that, one must at some point in time, come to terms with. And, when it does, should one be stoic about it?

So, do you want to die alone or worse, amidst strangers?
It’s appalling how it often come to this.

How did we solve the ‘old age conundrum’ in the past?
In ancient India, the Hindu approach to Life was far ahead of its times. In latter half of one’s Life (Life comprised of four stages: Brahmacharya or the Celibate/Student, Grihasta ashrama or the House holder, Vanaprashata Ashrama the Hermit in semi retirement, Sannyasa Ashrama or Fully retired), a man was expected to ‘let go’ his attachments and step into a life of contemplation. Though, one is not sure whether everyone was willing to bite the bullet, one needs to appreciate the foresight that went into such holistic thinking. But that was a millennium ago. There are no forests anymore(well, in case, if you were looking for an excuse to stay home).

But even, till a few decades back, I guess, this was addressed reasonably well in our society. Before ‘nuclear’ families started sprouting up everywhere, the ‘Joint Family’ (or(HUF) Hindu’s Undivided Family) offered a model for many generations to stick it out together, with all socio-economic matters solved in favour of the whole family. Old age was not only solved; in fact, wisdom ruled. Why that failed would be a digression at this point.(another post, perhaps).

Anyway. When the issue of ‘the Old’ came up, some even had the guts to look the other way (to justify an unpleasant childhood (“Oh, he was never there for me”) while most of us looked at the hard choices before us; our career (a promotion, a tenure, the greenest of all the cards), our children’s future, oh guess what, parents figured last. Let’s accept it, after we branched out to a small unit of our own (read only as wife and children), parents no longer figured in it.

Oh, I am sure, many of us offered; something they declined politely too (“Oh, we feel like fish out of water here”). In fact, many of them honestly tried to adapt; but then, it was beyond them to get excited about iPod or the Alps. More of an identity crisis, I guess. Sometimes you get so institutionalized …the newspapers, TV serials, by lanes and market place, familiar faces, shops… the fish just wanted to get back to the backwaters of Kerala. And so there you are, son, feeling helpless and lost at the ‘flow’ of Life. But few fail to catch the amazement at how priorities have changed for us. For now, it has become ‘bearable’ to leave behind, some people who meant everything, once. And, that to me, is, Life’s great mystery.

No parents would request their children to sacrifice a career for them. They are just too proud; just love you so much, to stand in your way. Perhaps, they see it as a negation of their whole life to hold you back from building on what they strived to achieve. Yet, to let them just wither away, on an excuse ("But they said it was just fine, ok?")

I happened to catch Satyan Anthikad share some of his experiences meeting the old (as a promo to ‘Manasinakkare’ film). There was so much sadness around to make out what was right. Maybe, many of you might caught this one (I am sure), when you are willing to spare an extra minute to chat with some old relative, they just brighten up, wanting to go on and on…. (The same ‘yearn’ to feel important, beautifully captured in ’12 Angry Men(1957)’ where an old man lies as a witness just to be listened to. To feel important.)

I refrain from concluding that one should sacrifice career for family. My intent was rather to seek why it is a nagging issue for most of us. In my opinion, the reason for this internal strife can only be that, it was never our (forefathers’) way or the Indian way to begin with. ‘Career-orientation or focus’ is largely a western ‘carrot’ for an occidental mind to find hardly gratifying. Besides, at the root of it all lies the western education we have had. Taught to seek and repose faith on what is tangible and logical. A Career.

So maybe, there is no cruelty here. This is just the nature of life. For, one cannot have everything in life. Choices have to be made. Collateral damage is inevitable. Forward is our great password today. But, one would do well to realize, one only gets what one gives. And, it is very much possible that you unconsciously teach your children to give, only, what you gave your parents.

I hope you have thought through, else, maybe it’s about time you started considering the possibility of dying alone.

Domesticated. Sad but true.

2010-02-21T11:36:00.000-08:00

Read a recent ruling by Supreme Court on matrimonial disputes where they conclude, cruelty in matrimonial relationships could mean absence of mutual respect and understanding that embitters relationships, leading to outbursts in behavior. In fact, it infinitely ranges from silence and subtle gestures to outright violence that, the entire facts and circumstances of the case before hand needs to be considered in favour of predetermination by rigid formula.

The ruling got me interested as I know too many families, both related and otherwise, where the male shouts his spouse into submission. There are even the ones who brag about females deserving to be ‘treated properly'. In fact, Domestic abuse or IPV (Intimate Partner Violence)has always been in vogue.

Theories on this ‘lawlessness’ smack of psychological, historical, social reasons among others. But what's interesting is, irrespective of time and geography, every human society have gravitated towards a patriarchal system reinforcing the myth(?)of male supremacy.

So is the male superior to the female?
Objectivity reveals otherwise. Surely, there has been no evidence of a deficiency w.r.t. IQ. Again, without doubt, female compensates her physical weakness with mental toughness. when it comes to EQ, I would argue male lacks the subtleness anyway. Even biologically, Nature has blessed female with such mental faculties to withstand procreation that, even mythological references seem to portray female as a perfection upon male (Eve being created after Adam and so forth... courtesy: Bible). Even genetically, male seems to have lost out on the chromosomes. In short, facts do not match the drama played out in the world…

Is there a subtler reason? Like an unconscious psychological fear of the female?
Let’s be fair to the past, male domination legacy perhaps dates back to the origin of homo sapian when tribes survived on physical strength alone. Those days, physical power was key, hence males prevailed. This trigger to submissiveness of female seem to have largely contributed to the poor self esteem, causing them to further confine and conform. But as human beings progressed to a civilized and more liberal setting the physical prowness of male no longer mattered. For, in today’s world of stress and mental powerplay, female holds the upper hand. To be honest, coupled with enough self esteem and a gifted power for endurance, a female could equally (if not exceed) qualify any task that demands toughness of the highest nature, even military. Even in science and art, I believe it was largely the restrictions imposed that stunted their confidence to contribute in equal measure. I believe it was all along (historically) skewed.

So do you do when threatened?
The escapism before a defensive strategy (resulting from a underlying poor self esteem) is often violence. One resorts to unfair and unreasonable means to hide one's weakness. So the question is....has there always been an unconscious acceptance and fear of female supremacy, triggering an unreasonable approach towards matrimonial relationships in males. Because a marriage is between equals, agreeing to share life and its challenges.

I know, to even suggest to the male community of a deep-rooted fear of the fairer sex would look preprosterous. But that's because the social setting has always been so skewed in male's favour, rigth from the origin of species. However, one needs to acknowledge that, an average male, was never really sadistic nor haboured a deep-rooted intention fueling the domestic abuse he unconsciously or consciously created But rather, an innocuous approach to mentally trick the partner into submission for 'operational' ease. Because any relation between equals will ensue arguements and hurdles as in democratic societies. We get nowhere, right?

So, how does the male achieve this?
By simply being 'unreasonable'. The modus operandi has been to ‘blame’ one’s spouse for everything that falls apart within the family. Be it looking after the children or cooking. The opportunities to place blame are endless. As no woman will sue you for being a little angry, you continue to break glasses, mouth abuses, scorn in-laws while she puts up with it in silence. It is easier when you are the bread winner. Once or twice she might try to talk back or repulse but eventually her EQ advises to survive the repression. Females are repressed into believing this is the norm. Even religions and traditions betrayed them. Be it Islam, Christianity or Hinduism, it's the same tragedy. I sometimes scorn at the 'Great Indian Family' values. In my humble opinion, our values weathered because, our women suffered in silence. Period.

Of course, I did not intend belittle the bread winner for protecting his family and taking on hard jobs like building a house,for instance. What I ask is a little consideration that can take your family life to another level of experience.

Ah! It is all so skewed. I do not propose anything. I cannot propose anything.

I just realize, I have wonderful parents. And that I have enough self esteem to see reason.

Quo Vadis?

2010-02-20T13:17:00.000-08:00

A dilemma for most of us I am sure. The answer should naturally be what one wants to do with one’s life. I have not met many who have had a clear idea of what they want to achieve in their life at all times. In my opinion, those of us who have sort ‘security’ in life have lost the whole purpose of living. Seeking security and permanence goes against the very fabric of existence which itself is impermanence. Most of us are taught to gravitate towards safety, seek safe careers and some sort of permanence where we can live out our lives in peace and rear a family. But in the heart of hearts, did you want to paint yourself to glory? …travel like a nomad?....nuclear physicist? What did you actually want to do in life?
When you are young, you probably wanted to be a pilot or a teacher….during the teens it might have been a rock star or even a communist….then as you grow up, you chickened out and sort to swim with the current. Most probably, our parents or friends influenced our choices. How many of us looked within?

It is a tricky though, for, one can easily spot a talent for music or painting but ‘investment banking’ early on? No way. It is interesting to note, that to make a difference, there should be both talent and passion for it. For some, it could be a thing for the numbers. For some others it could be inter personal skills. The trick is to identify what comes naturally to you. What you love doing for hours and days together…Like, if it is reading, you could be a critic or a writer?...
But most of us never stopped to think what was best. If the IITs and IIMs fetch the best opportunities, let me not ‘miss’ them. That was the outlook. Not bad but did it let you do what you really wanted?
I got this bright IIT friend of mine who loves to do charity but needs to work being a family man. There is another dude (CETian) who is into cryonics, big time; who also works to stay afloat. Everyone, pretty much like myself ‘works’ for something else, except I still do not know what I truly cherish!

For some, it could even be that, they are good at more than one thing to figure out which could be the best. But for majority, the fundamental problem as I put forward earlier on, comes from seeking security through marriage, safe career/money. The reason again, one needs to concede, is that man is multi-dimensional in being both a social being apart from an individual. So marriage and family commitments also determine or rather constrain the choices one make.

Well, it will not be entirely true if I say I do not know what I truly like. I think I have a vague notion of what I probably could have excelled at. My strength, I believe, lies in my EQ. Like an intuition, I can often figure out and mould myself to be approachable to anyone. It has helped me immensely in my people management assignments. To put it simply, I just love talking to people. Motivating and helping them. Above all, I believe, it lies in the my ability to step into another person’s shoes and understand his perspective.

Now, I know if I look hard enough, there are opportunities out there for such a career but experimenting is not ‘safe’ enough. Or maybe I am not confident enough as well. So I live a compromise. One of many that you make in your life.

As I said in the beginning ‘Impermanence’ is the basis of life. So if you go after your passion …something you truly cherish… you should naturally lose yourself in it to be ‘selfless’, which I believe gets you to the Joy. Security on the other hand is more of seeking and holding on to your past and highly restrictive. There is only a false sense of comfort in it. Somehow it is all connected. I hope you see what I see.
I guess, when you are doing what you truly like, you no longer compare or measure it (like whether the effort was worthwhile). It is like Love-making perhaps. Blessed are those who get to do what they are truly passionate about and good at.

Life becomes a hobby then.

Blood Money from Basra

2010-02-13T22:07:00.000-08:00

On my connection flight from Dubai, I happened to sit next to a man who had a fascinating tale to tell me. Nearly 50 year old, medium built with a broken leg but so full of energy. He works in war-torn Iraqi town of Basra. His son works in Afghanistan. They specialize in risky 'relatively' high-paid layman jobs right in the middle of war zones. A simple familyman, tossed about by challenges to keep afloat his family...has kept his faith in the God Almighty at all times. It was indeed heartening to hear his wise and simple words....you realize, wisdom has nothing to do with education or knowledge. Maybe, Life itself is its best teacher.

The guy has been living the Gulf nightmare for more than two decades. He rightly figured out, a simple middle-class family in Gulf cannot get rich over night. There is hardly any savings in the effort to stay afloat. Now this man next to me, staked all his savings gathered over 20 years (over 50 lakh rupees) on a joint venture with an Arab who robbed him of it. Scorned by relatives and others for stupidity, he withdrew into his family. The alienation strengthened the family bonds and resolve as his wife and children rose to the challenge. He himself led by example, taking on the risky job of a translator (between US &UK forces and the Iraqi guerillas) right at the doorstep of war. Such jobs are high paying and all his worries were taken care of. But come to think of it…it is actually blood money. Money, you get by putting your life on the line. Like a soldier.

The Aircraft’s engine roars to life and his face turns grave…

He tells me this exactly the sound he keeps hearing…the siren announcing ‘incoming incoming….’. It is a directive to run and duck under a bunker which is just a concrete basement which will not survive a direct hit. He says, after the US troops have replaced the UK, the level of combing operations after a missile attack have been much more fruitful.
He says the British contractors employed him to help the troops converse with Iraqi local and militia. The job lets him save close to 1 lakh a month. His son also got himself a similar suicidal job in Afghanistan which I presume is more risky. He says it was very difficult decision for his family but it had to done to get out of the struggle and defeat. Over the last 3 years they risen like a phoenix to build a fortune close to a crore. This time he has wisely diversified his investments, bought houses, bank balances, asked his wife to quit her job to look after his daughters etc…Life’s business is now out of the red, he says.
He swears ‘God gives and takes’. Searching his eyes I found that belief and trust makes life lot easier to understand and bear. His belief and faith remains untouched. For a moment I honestly felt, all the philosophy and knowledge of the world cannot fill in for the absolute faith you have, in no matter what! As long as it is rightly placed, you can achieve wonders.

So what about the crutches and broken leg, I ask.

He fractured it running into the bunker. A fifty year old man with three children running…and that is part of his job, mind you. He doesn’t regret this or anything for that matter. The life in Basra camp ain’t rosy at all. One is a stranger to peace. The siren and sleepless nights. But he tells me, even with all this, the job is highly sought after with many willing to risk it for the money.

That evening, listening to his tale, looking into his face, I honestly couldn’t help wonder who was ‘living’ after all. Was he the dead man walking? Or was it me living a dead life already. A life devoid of risks. Totally resigned in every sense.

You were right, Nietzsche. “Build your cities on the slopes of Vesuvius! For believe me, the secret for harvesting from existence the greatness fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment is to live dangerously”. Making every moment count. Savouring each moment.
Make life precious.

Now, it would be disrespectful on my part to suggest that my friend was having a wonderful life, one everyone should be envying him for. In fact, I am sure he would only be happy to switch lives with me. But nevertheless, one cannot help reconsider the fact that a life devoid of risk, adventure and challenge, however cozy, is worth pursuing after all.

So, in my considered opinion, I should rather take such encounters to be omens urging me to reconsider my options and make the best of them.

Thank you, Friend.

The Lizard's Fasination for Fascism

2010-01-29T10:10:00.000-08:00

The birth of Fascism in Germany has always fascinated me. How could a person inspire a whole country to such acts of decadence. The Third Reich. Aryan Supremacy. Surely, it cannot possibly have impressed every German. Of course, it has to be conceded Hitler’s ideology skillfully exploited a crestfallen war-torn Germany. Or maybe, it wasn’t a conscious exploitation after all. Maybe, Hitler genuinely believed in his cause and hatred for Jews. One should always discount the gullible masses or the disadvantaged who look to misplace their hatred. But what could have plausibly inspired the educated, men with principles and sound judgment. Surely there are no dearth of such intellectual giants in any civilized society. Hence, my interest has been the transformation of the intellectual German elite who silently acknowledged the horrendous crimes committed in the name of nationalism.

I was happy to find an interesting exposition in the startling testimony of the fictitious Ernst Janning, a German Judge put on trial for Nazi State ‘crimes’. The question before the American tribunal was whether a German Judge can be held responsible for executing the German laws that he himself did not frame. To judge based on them…does it make him responsible for the laws of the land? Examining his credentials, we find him to be a man of fine intellect, even opposed to Hitler at times; well respected authority in Law and author of many international publications. In this context, should we find the man guilty of crimes committed by the State of which he was a part of?
This is what he had to say on his silent acceptance of Nazi Germany.

"It is important not only for the tribunal to understand but for the whole German people. But in order to understand it, one must understand the period in which it happened. There was a fever over the land. A fever of disgrace, of indignity, of hunger. We had a democracy, yes. But it was torn by elements within. Above all, there was fear…Fear of today, fear of tomorrow, fear of our neighbors, and fear of ourselves. Only when you understand that, can you understand what Hitler meant to us. Because he said to us: "Lift your heads. Be proud to be a German. There are devils among us, Communists, liberals, Jews, Gypsies. Once these devils will be destroyed, your misery will be destroyed. "
It was the old story of the sacrificial lamb. What about those of us who knew better? We who knew the words were lies, and worse than lies? Why did we sit silent? Why did we take part? Because we loved our country. What difference does it make, if a few political extremists lose their rights? What difference does it make if a few racial minorities lose their rights? It is only a passing phase. It is only a stage we are going through. It will be discarded sooner or later. Hitler himself will be discarded sooner or later. The country is in danger. But we will march out of the shadows. ……And history tells how well we succeeded. We succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. The very elements of hate and power about Hitler that mesmerized Germany…mesmerized the world. We found ourselves with sudden, powerful allies. Things that had been denied to us as a democracy were open to us now. The world said, "Go ahead, take it. Take Sudetenland, take the Rhineland, remilitarize it. Take all of Austria. Take it."
And then, one day, we looked around...and found that we were in an even more terrible danger. The ritual began in this courtroom...swept over the land like a raging, roaring disease. What was going to be a passing phase...had become the way of life.”
Many of you may not fully appreciate the text, unless of course, you have seen the famous courtroom drama “Judgement at Nuremberg”. I haven’t found a finer exposition on the German dilemma. Though every intellectual understood Hitler’s anomaly, none denied the respectability he gave Germany.

It needs to be understood that, every human, though he may not fully recognize it in times of peace (unless threatened) have an inexplicable love for his religion and his country. And he would die fighting for them. Perhaps, only Freedom is placed above these. History is a witness to this ‘impractical’ yearning. Perhaps, there are things that appeal beyond comprehension or logic, interwoven into the very fabric of man. A throw back to the ‘Lizard Mind’. Seeking reassurance in times of fear and anxiety.

Understand the context once more. Germany was in ruins after WWI. There was a great uncertainty all around. Someone comes in with hope and respect. Something to look up to. What he says may not look just but his love for his country touches a raw nerve somewhere in each one of us (even my grandpa spotted a hitler-moustache in respect). So you let go… Germans united. Germany rose to heights no country could dream of. The whole world shamelessly cheered on, partially in fear, partially in awe because it was nothing less than miracle. The intellectual checkpoints looked on, beguiled themselves in believing that it was just a passing phase. An unjust means to justified end. Fascism was to be….

So we find how normal it is, for one man with a vision to entice a whole country in self doubt, into acts of terror. It was gradual of course. Hitler himself did not foresee his phenomenal success. It was a case of one leading to other…. However, what needs to understood from History is that, it is indeed possible for such decadence (nationalism to fascism) to happen and no society does have the checks to contain them.

It is thus important to realize, that the Lizard Man never really differentiates between Nationalism and Fascism.

Standing on the shoulders of Giants

2010-01-23T10:17:00.000-08:00

Some time back, it was some quirk of fate I chanced upon two of the greatest courtroom dramas on the same day. Judgment at Nuremberg and To Kill a Mocking Bird. Both pose problems, beg for solutions that strain one’s sense of Justice.
Gets you to wonder, what is the essential character of ‘Justice’? Can logic ever do ‘justice’ to Justice? Beyond the sense of right and wrong within a social context, when confronted to explain ‘the why’ behind a dilemma…. to interpret the Law of the land without losing its spirit and purpose can be quite daunting …and perhaps, that is why, reading or seeing some landmark judgments can sometimes be so rewarding an experience.

Talking about Justice, I have often wondered, in spite of the Penal Code and the Constitution to refer to as the bibles, whenever you visit a lawyer’s office, you see tons of volumes stacked against the walls…compilations of previous rulings, judgments passed in the country. Why are they all compiled and distributed like some body of knowledge? In all my years I was to believe science was perhaps the hardest to figure out. But I guess, I couldn’t be more wrong. These movies made me realize, the challenge of a solution to a mathematical problem or anything technical, pales in comparison to the deduction of the right verdict to a judicial dilemma. Come to think of it, you really don’t need more than a text to expound the fundamentals of physics.

Imagine. To sit in judgment of fellow human beings! To interpret the law without losing its purpose and spirit warrants the highest faculties and the finest of balance known to mankind. Every case is unique in its time and social context. Poses new questions. The great American jurist Oliver Wendell Holmes once said “The character of every act depends upon the circumstances in which it is done.” Indeed, it is to be judged in totality. It cannot be cut up, analyzed in parts.

Oliver Holmes also remarked “This responsibility (i.e. sense of justice) will not be found only in documents that no one contests or denies. It will be found in considerations of a political or social nature. It will be found most of all, in the character of men”

Justice found in irrefutable documental evidence is plain and straightforward. Like science. But cases with nothing tangible to relate to and with no precedence, demands the highest character of men. Interestingly, all human beings are blessed with an innate sense of Justice. Maybe, the judges, with all their conditioning, lose the humane touch of the layman. Is that why the Americans still have the Jury System. (Interestingly, Indians banned Jury Trials after the famous Nanavati trial where, perhaps, the layman was swayed too well by emotions). So then, should heart or the brain determine the Justice. Or both?

Again, what would you define as the threshold for finding an act or person guilty? Is there a threshold? The more you think of it, the more you are fascinated by fragileness. In fact, we realize that we do need, all the cumulative knowledge and wisdom we can gather, of our forefathers, their previous rulings. One man cannot possibly possess or fathom the wisdom nor the intelligence to solve everything, every time. It can only be cumulative. Built upon.

Issac Newton is said to have remarked “…If I have seen a little further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants.”

Nothing could be more true than in the case of Jurisprudence.

Hmmm…and that perhaps explains those volumes of rulings stacked against the walls of every lawyer’s room.

Your Personal Hero

2010-01-09T02:49:00.000-08:00

My idea of chilling out has always been to go out, once the dusk sets in… start with the sinking sun in nearby beach with some bosom buddy, guys you grew up with, you shared a certain vibe…in short, guys, you could sit with,without talking to…for several minutes even…without the silence grow embarrassingly stifling. I guess everyone has a buddy or two like that. Usually I prefer to go out with each of them, alone. Each one is so different in their outlook that if it gets to three, it gets awfully crowded...Well, these days with the kids and family...we don’t have the luxury of time… so we head directly to some dark-lit dens (read BAR) in town to unwind…A couple of quick gulps (the mallu-way to get high), the talk drags on….Anyway, it was in one of those great evenings I ‘discovered’ (no, I think I had known it all along, unconsciously though) my personal hero. Dad.

Listening to my buddy talk about his, my mind jogged along, throwing up images about my own…I could not help feeling the universality of this love for one’s dad. For most of us, our dad is our personal hero. If he isn’t one (to you), something ain’t right about your childhood....like you have been unfortunate in life...that’s all I can make out.

Now, this friend of mine narrates how he asked dad to name his daughter and I am sure, his dad must have been very proud. Well, my dad on the other hand, told me, ‘Your children is yours alone. You may never get a chance to name anyone, so dont waste it’. So I was proud to name mine. Though views can be different, the father-son relation is indeed special and rich.
Yet, it is also true, though we defend each other (father and son) in public, behind closed doors, we are perhaps the worst critics (of each other). I presume, it is largely driven by our love to see each other, as perfect. Without blemish.

So why is he, your hero still? For most of us, he is perhaps the first Man you saw, the one you looked up to…for almost all values you’ve picked up, this sense of right and wrong, even your idiosyncrasies. And about sacrifices…I am sure, everyone’s dad walked many more miles to school (than us), didn’t have half the comforts they have provided us to become whatever we are. But most importantly, this willingness to sacrifice further...in spite of all his principles, whatever he has been able to achieve so far, in terms of stature, wealth, everything in short...he is willing to compromise it, for you. Unconditionally. He may not be explicit (he might even threaten), but behind your back, he always tries to make things easier for you (even against his ethics!). I have a feeling, half of world’s corruption would be born out of this unconditional love for one’s offspring! The other half, perhaps, greed & love for oneself I guess.

Why this love, then? Am I so special?...To a dad, yes. Because, you are his extension. His very self. Sadly, you don’t often realize it until you becomes one yourself….and out of all this realization, springs a natural respect that overwhelms.

The challenge therefore, before me, is to become my own daughters’ hero. Sometimes I feel tense and doubtful. Bringing up your little ones is so undoubtedly the ultimate challenge and investment before most of us. It is so delicate and complicated an affair. You need to be strict and considerate, but you have no clue when exactly, you need to be considerate and strict…should you let them pursue their dreams or should you safely play conservative? Should you make them see 'your reason' or see 'their reason'...at their tender age and times….Or should you just let them be?

Sometimes I look back, at how my parents walked the tightrope, weathered the storms (that is, me and my sibling) , instilling in us the need to study, the value of principles, the importance of money...putting up with our taciturn, the ‘rebel without a cause’ attitudes...Infact, you feel nothing but gratitude. All I do is pray that their wisdom come to my aid, helping me and my children decide for ourselves, what is best for us and our family.

Is there a better way to wrap up than echo a father's eternal worry in ...To Kill a Mocking Bird where Atticus says “If this thing’s hushed up it’ll be a simple denial to Jem of the way I’ve tried to raise him. Sometimes I think I’m a total failure as a parent, but I’m all they’ve got. Before Jem looks at anyone else he looks at me, and I’ve tried to live so I can look squarely back at him... if I connived at something like this, frankly I couldn’t meet his eye, and the day I can’t do that I’ll know I’ve lost him. I don’t want to lose him and Scout, because they’re all I’ve got.”

Never fail your child.

The Demons within

2010-01-01T10:36:00.000-08:00

It wouldn’t have caught my attention if it were not for the two flicks I saw lately (one, a documentary, another, an old French crime thriller). I have faithfully reproduced the conclusions they draw. Conclusions... quite startling...Unsettling to say the least. For they deal with how a society can degenerate to make possible, a Hitler or a holocaust. Where does this ‘faceless state’ come from? The Big Brother of Orwell’s 1984. How does it subjugate a society to precipitate a Khmer Rouge? Even men of reason, reasonable fellows like you and me(!), forsake values….willingly (not blindly!) do things one should naturally be ashamed of. In fact, most of us balance a precarious sense of values. We think our values are strong. Intact.
I always thought it was the Fear of the State that makes one a Joseph K. Excuses like mass hypnosis…mob psychology…to explain the unreasonable...until this observation touched a raw nerve.

In 1961, an experiment was conducted by Dr. Stanley Milgram, a psychologist at Yale University. Many volunteered to take the experiment. The purpose of this ‘obedience study’ was to observe an individual’s willingness to inflict pain (administer electric shocks) when ordered to do so. The participants did not know the ‘victim’ was an actor nor the shocks were not real. The full responsibility of their actions was not theirs (but the doctor). All they needed to do was ‘please do as directed’. All the subjects administered shocks. They majority did so, at the maximum permissible level, 450 volts! Respectable, reasonable men like us.
Dr. Stanley Milgram finally concludes in his ‘Obedience Study’ that “The results as I observe them in the laboratory are disturbing. It raises the possibility that human nature cannot be counted on, to insulate man from brutality and inhuman treatment at the direction of malevolent authority. A substantial proportion of people do what they are told to do irrespective of the content of the act and without limitation of conscience, so long as, they perceive that the command comes from a legitimate authority. If in this study an anonymous experiment could successfully command an adult to subdue a 50 year old man and force on him painful electric shocks against his protests, one can only wonder what government with its vastly greater authority and prestige can command of its subjects. Courtesy: Ghosts of Abu Ghraib(2007)

I comme Icare (1979), discusses the same experiment, throwing further light on the unpleasant truth. It observes, on an average 63% of the subjects are submissive to ‘invisible authority’ and willing to go up to 450 volts. This proves that in a civilized, democratic and liberal country 2/3 of the people are capable of executing any kind of command so long as it comes from a superior authority. However, it is also observed, as soon as the coherence of the hierarchical (fascist) system disappears as disagreements appear at the authority level, the subject takes advantage of it and refuses to obey.
Three months after the experiment they summoned every subject to tell the truth and asked to justify their behavior! And the script goes like this…
Did you ever think about your cruelty inflicted on your innocent and defenseless victim?...No, l didn't think of my cruelty nor of the innocence of the victim. l did what l was told to.

When they demand a pilot to launch a bomb over a city, the pilot launches it. He doesn't question himself whether it is right or wrong, he just haunches it. But in case of genocide, when a tyrant decides to kill 6 million people he needs to have a million accomplices to share his dream. So how does he gain the obedience of others?
The secret is in dividing the responsibilities. A tyrant inspires a million little tyrants into believing his ideals, every one of them willing to do his ‘bit’ for the good of the state, executing their tasks professionally and without remorse because nobody will ever remember which is the millionth part of the crime. Truly Faceless!
For instance, one of them arrests the victim, an innocuous simple arrest, another one plays the ‘harmless driver’ while he takes the victim to some concentration camp, the victims get imprisoned by another but then he's only the prison warden and, the hardened, faithful ones are for the final acts of terror. In reality, this chain of obedience will seem comfortable to everyone involved!

So, at 360 Volts, the subject ceased to scream and did not respond which could lead you to assume he is dead. Why did you continue to apply him shocks from 360V to 405V?...If he is really dead he would feel nothing, right? l thought the professors knew what they are doing. I was not the one to contradict them.
What is surprising is that all the subjects react without anger, without rage, without any vindictiveness, without even hoping for a reward.

If the advertisement wasn't published by a university but by an individual that would promise you several thousand dollars as a reward, would you have still applied those 405V?...No! I don't think you understood, sir. Money has got nothing to do with this. I will obey an authority as long as I respect it.

So Germany or Cambodia is no India, right? Well, I was hoping you would help me understand Godra 2002.. or maybe Bombay of 1993…better still, Delhi in 1984.

The roots have always been the same…

Tear Drop upon the cheek of Time

2009-12-19T01:56:00.000-08:00

If you have never been to the Taj, I reckon you should. It is the finest thing we Indians ever built. Perfection at its best. You don’t need to major in architecture to recognize why some creations exudes such excellence. I also think it would be vulgar to categorize, to identify in it, what is Persian, Indian and Islamic. The Taj is timeless and beyond classifications. Talking about wonders, I often wonder how the Leaning Tower of Pisa got to be one. Something that ended up being a miscalculation in the first place! Or the Pyramids of Giza or the Great Wall of China…granted, they are all tributes to mankind’s ability to perform the impossible….. but , how could they all possibly rank amidst aesthetic treats like the Taj?

Looking back,connecting the dots….I guess, my fascination probably came from my early history lessons ….ICSC recommends that you literally ‘research’ Indian architecture for your matriculations. …right from harappan excavations to the Mughals up north, Cholas , Pallavas, Hoysalas down South! We had to mug the dimensions, specialties of the architectures, the rulers, the architects, in short all the gory details.... even identify them from their pictures. No easy task, if you have an idea how many they built in those days! Listing Mughal flavors alone can get your head spinning…Taj Mahal, Gol Gumaz, Fatehper Sikri, Jama Masjid at Agra, at Delhi, Diwan-i-khas, Red Forts everywhere, Siri Fort, Qutb Minar, Humayum’s Tomb, Hawa Mahal.…. and, if you have seen all of these (at least the pictures of it), you would probably have an idea what makes the Taj special. Looking at all the others, you cannot help but conclude they were building the rest to get this one right! The Taj.

Now, as any Indian kid, you grow up seeing miniature models of Taj all around, in wood, marble, glass, what not. Maybe, you would have lined up before some backdrop (curtains of old days, I mean, not today's digital wizardry) of the Taj during some fairs for family photos. So, it hardly evokes any special feeling in us when some documentary or foreigner speaks so high of it. Oh Taj? No Big Deal, really.

In fact we are all so used to the ‘jasmine-in-our-courtyard’ that you would be frowned upon to make a trip all the way to Agra (at least from Kerala) to see it. But I got lucky in my college days to be a part of the notorious ‘All India’ tour (that was like a decade ago). We made it to Delhi, caught a train to Agra station, bump along in an auto to the actual spot. The squalor of the slums, of under developed India makes you sad... you expected Taj to be in some cozy grand locale..like the Disneyland... Now, the Taj comes with its grand gateways (the Darwazas or something) and you don’t actually see it completely until you enter the gate. Then it hits you!

I don’t know how to explain but maybe, you don’t often realize the magnitude-of-beauty of something unless....unless, you actually see it ….at such close quarters, filling the whole horizon… of your panoramic vision. May it is the size. The wonderful symmetry. Such a grand structure in marble.....All along you have been seeing small small imitations and suddenly this dream structure soaring so high strikes you.... So, you just stand there, struck down. Frozen.

It was one of the best moments in my life.

The guide’s tour of the interior is depressing, you feel sad about the walls been scribbled on….turning yellow….gaping holes that once held precious stones…. When I was done, I went back to gateway and sat there, watching others. People, families would come in, boisterous, rollicking. Then suddenly they fall silent, looking up. The Taj. Some smile , some inadvertently bring up their palms to hide the gasp. Some are not affected too. But it is satisfying to see people freeze for a moment. How Taj gets to each one of you....

There are numerous legends you never tire yourself hearing. Like the ‘magic’ steps. It is said that when a visitor steps on those, they lower themselves to immerse your feet in water, cleaning them in the process. Alas, the British fiddled with it to figure it out and never got to put them back. Then again, it is also rumored that those people who build the Taj had their thumbs or hands cut off to preserve the IP! wicked world.

Today, the Taj is almost yellow, thanks to our modernization woes. Sometimes I try to picture how it really looked......back in the 16th century when it was actually built....made of the finest ‘translucent’ marble...studded with precious stones….. on a full moon lit night....by the side of the silent waters of Yamuna....the reflections....

what a sight it would have been to behold!

One bows before their brilliance. Ahmad Lahauri (the chief architect) , Shah Jahan ( who is said to have personally reviewed the whole drawings) and, all those people who helped realize the ‘Tear Drop upon the cheek of Time’ (who other than Tagore could have worded it otherwise).

The Joy of Running

2009-12-11T08:08:00.000-08:00

The oldest memory I have of running was when I was about ten. My friend and I had this sudden rush of blood like Forrest Gump and started running! School Ground. 30 Lapses (mind you, each lap is about 400 meters)! Yeah you won’t believe it. We did end up with cramps that lasted over a week. I don’t remember doing the long distance again. I was a reasonably fast runner when it came to short sprints. Never got to be the fastest though.

During my college days, the only running I remember was the friendly jog at 6 in the morning with a friend of mine. It didn’t last. Such things never do. Besides, in college, I ended up with a rare distinction. Ligament tears through two freak bike accidents, back to back!

But, a decade later, I was to run again though. Well, ‘asked to’, would be more appropriate! My lipid profile was not impressive. Would you believe that? A 33 year old asked to burn those calories! Burn them? Where? Those who know my frame were equally stunned. Anyway, I recently found out that my job profile had to do with it more than my food habits. Well, whatever. The long and short of it was I was running again. But you know what? It ain’t so pretty when asked to. When you need to. Each day.

But there are a couple things that caught my interest.
First, the insurmountability of getting up at 5! That, to me, was the hardest part. You will be amused. Your mind races to some special reason why you just can’t run that day. Your ears strain to pick a drizzle outside. You feel for a bad throat. There is a trick though. Never give a moment to think. Make the get-up routine as mechanical as possible. Get up-Take a pee-Change clothes-Off you go. Don’t think about possibilities. Hit the road in 5 minutes. Because once you are in the road, the cool air just takes you in. Embraces and wishes you a great day ahead.

Second, Running means only one thing. Running fast. Trust me here. Jogging is like giving up on yourself. Accepting your senility, your limitations. Living a compromise. Seen the oldies that jog across? Your time will come. Do not be a disgrace to mankind now. Run, for your honor!

For the same reason, never share running with others. Do it alone. Make it personal. Running should be a penance. A meditation. Testing your limits. Limits of endurance. Maybe your endurance is poor. But testing it is the whole purpose. Maybe, it is good idea to inspire yourself watching “Without Limits” (Steve Prefontaine and Bill Bowerman. Savor those legends). And then there is “The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner”. Now, while ‘Without Limits' is explicit in its treatment, among other things (such as social injustice), it is the restrained celebration of running in “The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner” that gets to you.

As to my technique, ... well, I start with the warm up jog. Work up the pace. Then I just run. Though it is not much, I run to my lung capacity. Till my chest can’t take it anymore. I admit the full blast doesn’t last beyond 15 minutes. Then I wind down with a jog and walk back home in sweat, contented.

So, what is it, then, that makes running great?

When you run fast…., the degree can vary with people…but for all, it gets to a point when your chest begins to give up, give in. Your lungs starts to gasp for that extra air, your nostrils flare… But, you are alive once again. You are doing justice to your body. The whole body is breathing. It is like throw back to your youth. Of Muscles. Of Strength. A celebration of Life.

When you are running fast.... as fast as you possibly can ….have you ever wondered what is on your mind? where are your ‘thoughts’? where is the ‘mind’ that throws up the thoughts?… Where is your ego or ‘you’?

There is no mind. Only the running. Living the moment.

And who other than Eric Liddell, the ‘Flying Scotsman’, can explain it best. In “Chariots of Fire” Eric simply says "I believe that God made me for a purpose, but He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure."

In other words, when you are not, you become Him. The joy in running!

Do trees ever catch cold?

2009-12-06T00:35:00.000-08:00

“From the withered tree, a flower blooms”

If these words conjure up visions of the ‘Phoenix rising from the ashes’, trust me, you’ve had too much of an occidental education by now. For this Zen saying does not have anything to do with a miraculous comeback from the dead.

Now for the Zen master, it might be the obvious 'life and death being one and the same'. Like two states of the same underlying reality or something. I must admit, I have not evolved or liberated enough to see it as they see.

Actually, I wanted to talk about my little other observation.
See, there is a difference when we adults catch cold and when our little ones catch them. Say, you catch one and you start blowing your nose every ten seconds, cursing yourself silently about the AC or cold drink you had earlier that day or was it that stupid friend who ‘deliberately’ sneezed. And now, you start to worry about not being able to make it to the office. Not because you love to work. But, because you have very little leaves left. Then again, you dread your child catching it, though, you don’t mind your colleague catching the same. Well, those are feelings we all are too familiar with.
But haven’t you noticed how it starts to affect your moods, your judgments, your conversations. Say, you are doing some interpersonal task like doing an appraisal or an interview. Or maybe you have been programming or doing some report. You just want to get over with it. You just stop with what you can get away with. You do not do justice to that extra review you would otherwise have.... It is not purposeful. It is just because you honeslty feel you should not ‘over-exert’ yourself. You just feel down and out. Gloomy and dull than usual. Ready to snap. Man! .....it is just a cold and we make mountains out of it.

Now, look at your child. Sure, she has a running nose but she is jumping. All around in wild abandon! And she is hardly bothered. She still needs her ice creams and she loves to cough at you. No manners. No etiquettes. Nothing breaks her or worries her. Yes. It’s just a cold. That’s perhaps why my pediatrician always say, as long as they appear happy and energetic, the temperature or whatever, it is fine.

Now read “From the withered tree, a flower blooms” once more.
Look at the tree. One part of it is busy dying while the other is busy living! One does not affect the other. It is like, every part and cell is supposed to do what it is supposed to do. Just being. That could be, just living or dying. It is the same.

We adults, make a mess of things. See, we as human beings cling to the past and all the ‘good things’ of the past. So, you are healthy and you do not have cold. And then one day, you have cold!... Now, you start to compare with your healthy state and Lo! behold, you are pissed. Suddenly there are 10,000 things that are affected by this cold...

And now, besides being cold, you are also sad. Congratulations!

Well, there are great souls like Gandhi, who is supposed to have asked for book to read instead of taking local anesthesia for an operation. Concentration. Being in control. That is another thing all together.

Old Habits die hard indeed!

2009-12-04T07:51:00.001-08:00

One often wonders why our public demonstrations or ‘strikes’ as we come to call them, turn destructive in nature. Why do we have to destroy public property to make a point? Burn state buses, break window panes, pelt public buildings. Why? Beyond the obvious reason of bringing the state to the discussion table and the release of anger or hatred, one finds it difficult to find a reason for the carnage left behind by every demonstration.

Before I bring in my perspective on why we revel in such excesses, I would like to draw attention to how each culture address their dissatisfaction. Interestingly, I have heard that in some foreign countries, if there is a protest, say in a shoe factory, they protest by making just one of the pair of shoes (either the left or the right one only)! And once the dispute is over, they work overtime to make up. That, to me, is a very effective and civilized way of disobedience. Juxtapose that with a typical trade unionism in Kerala, perhaps captured eternally for us in ‘Varavelppu’. Well, we no longer have stalwarts like Gandhi or AKG to take principled stances on issues and arrive at reasonable solutions with the government. When the real objective is lost to money, power, ego and jealousy, there will never be solutions. Only lockout, suffering and destruction.

Well, I must admit the topic at hand is more of a symptom that cannot be analyzed in isolation. The discussion would naturally lead to the philosophy and psychology behind society, communism, democracy and what not. And interestingly, in Kerala, unlike any other place on earth, everyone has strong opinions and inclinations when it comes to politics. That’s not my objective this time though.

I only wanted to discuss why our strikes always result in public property being destroyed. There are two things that come to my mind.

First, the obvious lack of civic sense. Unlike civilized societies, a typical Indian cares about only about his home and cares much less for what is common or public property. As to why we are individually so smart and collectively so naïve, maybe, you would do well to read books like ‘Games Indians Play’ by V. Raghunathan. Suffix to say, we just don’t mind diverting the sewage out of our compound, dumping waste on neighbour’s doorstep, spit on the streets. This callousness for common property naturally makes them easy targets during such demonstrations.

But it is second reason that I can think of as the real culprit. Our colonization! It has to do with the British ruling us for so long, our long freedom struggle resulting in our independence in 1947. All throughout the foreign occupation, the ‘state’ or government was perceived as a sort of enemy to us. All throughout the freedom struggle we have been trained to channel our disobedience against the state. Naturally, it got engrained in our suppressed psyche that to strike against the government means to destroy its assets. Though it made perfect sense then, it is indeed sad that even after 60 years into independence, we still have not outgrown it.

It might interest a few to know that Churchill (if one were to set aside his hatred for Gandhi and Indians as a whole) once commented that ‘democracy’ is something they (i.e. Indians) are not matured enough to handle. Well, we have proved everyone wrong, alright. But honestly, sometimes, it makes me wonder too. As to the maturity needed to handle democracy, he couldn’t be more right. Look at those African nations, out of colonization, still messed up in the quagmire of military coups. Maybe Churchill did have a point, after all.

So am I accusing Pazhassi Raja for all the nonsense our ‘comrades’ and other parties come up with these days?

Well, let’s learn to call Spade a Spade.

Middle Class Chauvinism?

2009-12-03T08:56:00.000-08:00

I have often wondered why we have come to associate ‘values’ primarily with middle-class. If one were to seriously gauge the extremes in class genre( i.e. high class & low class ), there does seem to exist a ‘relative’ lawlessness, absent in middle class. At least in terms of values. In fact, when it comes to values, middle class society has come to be widely regarded as the watchdog in any society .And, there should exist some plausible reason why this sandwiched class has continued to retain respectability in this regard.

Without exception, ‘Page 3’ of any newspapers and glam magazines tempt us with ample dosage of sizzlers on the excesses of high class society. Brushing aside the rich and famous, even when it comes to the 'accessible high class’ of the posh next-street neighborhoods, one is taken aback by the frivolity in values. Wife-swapping in high class circles, where they put all the car keys together and the ladies pick their car-partner! Well, I am not denouncing anything for the moment. That’s not my objective. But my point is, unlike excesses where females taking to drugs or heavy drinking, this is decadence. How does anyone justify it.

Now, looking the other side of the spectrum, the lower classes, you see the same lawlessness. Haven’t you come across your domestic help or house maid feeding your wife juicy stories….like someone left someone for someone else, husband settling off with wife’s sister or something equally wicked. No marriages nor divorces. The same lawlessness exist.

So how does it work for the middle masses. Or maybe, one should ask, why it does not work for the other two. It appears ( and I may be wrong here) values is something that is being ‘negotiated’ between the Society and the Individual. When the Society holds the upper hand and values are kept intact. Like the middle class. And where the Individual breaks free and wins its liberty to take liberty with values, we have chaos. Luckily in every society, high class and low class are in the minority.

The high class, free from financial worries naturally feels above the norms or rules of decency. To them, there is nothing money can’t buy. It frees them to give in to those vices the middle class refrains from. You see a rich man take on multiple wives only too often. Such transgressions rest light on our shoulders.
To them, anything goes! Sab chalta hai..

The low class? Well, they are at the bottom anyway. They don’t lose anything to slip further. Sans everything, they too give in to carnal instincts.
And to them, what difference does it make? Kya farak padta hai?..

It does not matter whether you belong to high or low class, for different reasons though, you no longer fear the society or its 'collective' values.

What one needs to realize is that ‘values’ are checks that the Societies developed to maintain sanity. To make us human beings from the animals we were. We have the institution of marriage and family values to rein in those animal instincts in each one of us.

So now the question becomes, why does society hold the upper hand in middle class alone? I frankly do not know an answer yet. Maybe it is the fear of losing ‘the only values’ that set them apart, giving them respect. Maybe they think it is way to fight off the envy. Or maybe it is the education and the conservatism that is still running strong.

In fact I am beginning to wonder if there any truth in these thoughts at all or am I just being a middle class chauvinist.

How and why I do it?

2009-11-27T09:56:00.000-08:00

One of the few who do read my blogs asked the other day how I do this? Hmmm… Well,if you haven’t noticed yet, all that I do is write about little things that happen to each of us, everyday. Really, there is no rocket science involved in anything that I write. But I do admit, I no longer believe in penning my take on anything serious like realpolitik either. Maybe, Zen got me to shed all that crap that I once thought was important. Maybe it also got me write about things that really matter to me.

But don't you also get it? It is precisely the triviality that attracts you and me. If I was to write on Kashmir or Babri Masjid, you would have had second thoughtsby now on wasting your time elsewhere. For the simple reason that, we are all opinionated about such 'hot' things. Otherwise, you appear dumb. Besides, you would wanna know whether this poor writer (that's me) holds a decent degree (nothing less than a LSE or atleast a JNU) to make it worthwhile.

So, to write on simple things, you only need to be a sensitive ass. That's me. Now, there are two things that makes me pick my topics.

One, the heightened sensitivity that I have consciously begun to cultivate. It makes you catch things that, you otherwise miss because you are mostly being ‘busy’.
Two, as I have already blogged the willingness to share it. Other than that, I am no Forrest Gump. I have not had an unusually eventful past or anything. All I do is narrate things that have occurred to me at one point or another, things, that have had an impact on me. Actually everything has an impact on you if you are willing to be fully receptive.

How do I do this? By choosing to live in the present. You see, every moment of our life is so alive and so full of magic. Every moment is also inevitable. To be fully aware of it and to appreciate it as ‘it is’ is what I am trying to do. Like someone put it “Being happy doesn't mean everything's perfect, it means you've decided to see beyond the imperfections.”. When you do, everything is perfect. Every moment is inevitable but perfect as it is. And believe me, you will have tons to write on it.

George Sheehan once wrote “The best way to think is to write”. True. It clarifies and liberates you. Or sometimes it settles you down. Like, you have made peace with the topic or something.

Well , I would implore each of you to do it as well. It will give you a certain sense of righteousness too. Above all, a purpose.

Drive and Let Drive

2009-11-21T10:38:00.000-08:00

Another blog on driving? I’ll be damned. Well, this is not about zen driving or is it?

I have come to notice, many a times that, if you can let others have their way, in driving, things look a lot better. That way, we all get home sooner and with a lot less BP.
When you are driving, you invariably search the opposite faces for their expression. It could be that of car driver or scooter or someone crossing or a policeman. And very often, you notice, if someone gives you a reason to stare at, you grab it, with both hands. Like a road block, some aged lady jumping in to cross the road, some ass perspiring with that awful U-turn gone terribly wrong and you turn on that ‘Oh!-Great-now-what’ look!
But if you were to be a little considerate, the expression on the other side simply dissolves into something similar. But very few do that.

I always wondered why we are mentally dressed to pick a fight while we drive. We all have that serious ‘how-dare-you’ look and do not miss an opportunity to honk our attitude on the roads. Still, have you noticed sometimes, people have that earnest pleading can-I-cross look? You grin, they smile back in genuine gratitude. It is more usually when someone wants a favor like to allow him to cross into his lane but there is whole queue of vehicles…

Is there a reason why there is more of ‘Drive’ and less of ‘Let Drive’?
I think we are all in this mad race to get somewhere. And we cannot stand someone messing it up for us on the ‘transit’. I mean, from home (destination A) to office or somewhere (Destination B) is a time period that we do not count. We may have this estimated transit time of , say, 15 mts. We think that period is not ‘living’. It is to be saved and not wasted ‘driving’, something to be commuted in ‘zero time’. So we try to cover it in 10 mts, maybe to we start ‘living’ that extra 5 mts in destination B. And what if it is shoots 15 mts? We start to curse no matter we see..

Or maybe, and I sometimes wonder, it is an after effect of the ‘ragging’ we received when we were underdogs ourselves on those initial days of driving. All the mess we see around we attribute to some jackass who is learning to drive. You see no one forgiving anyone.

Nowadays, if someone takes liberties on the road, I get pleasantly amused. I never do that all too familiar hands-out-of the-window asking “what the hell?”… I know crossing the yellow line is trespassing but honestly, those yellow lines are only recommendations. If someone has some good reason, even smart driving, , I would rather oblige.

But if you can, while taking such liberties ( not those wild ones I mean) , raise your palm on the steering wheel as if to apologize, match it with considerate face, you will be surprised to find that it does neutralize everything. That’s the beauty of it.
Everything dissolves the moment you take the initiative to apologize and acknowledge your fault. And everyone, almost everyone, accepts such an apology with a smile. At least not that stare or the hand-out-of-the-window thing. It is when you we take without asking, like for granted, people get ruffled.

Drive and Let Drive.

The Gift to Communicate

2009-11-21T08:36:00.000-08:00

The ability to communicate is largely dependent on the ‘will’ to communicate. Confidence, good voice, strong words are all but secondary to the one’s willingness to communicate. The fear to share, the reluctance to reveal what one knows and be exposed, lies at the heart of the problem of communication. In fact, communication skill has always been mistaken for the ability to converse fluently in English or public speaking or the ability to write well, document well etc. But, while all that can be learnt or mastered, if you do not have the will to speak your mind, you never really get to ‘truly’ communicate.
In my humble opinion, a true communicator is one who reaches out to touch ‘mentally’, another human being. That is, the sole reason to communicate. The will to communicate what you believe and perhaps, lay bare yourself in the bargain is to me, the single most factor that makes you a real communicator.

I have only seen it happen when we converse face to face with another person. All public speaking is demagoguery to an extent. Before I get to true communication as I see it, let me suggest a few reasons why miscommunication has been the default.

First, the limitation of words, its meaning and symbolism. We all come with baggage. Our understanding of a word is naturally biased by the context we understood it. A simple word like ‘love’ can be perceived by an adult, a child, a single parent or a western/eastern differently. There would be a common ‘dictionary’ base to everything but subtle differences exist even if you share a pedantic attention to details.
Second, listening to the other person. What he is seeking. The objective is not to answer him, what you know in your biased context but to understand what he is asking in his context and mould your answer that makes sense to him. To blabber without listening is to lack sensitivity and intelligence.

But I have noticed, to my surprise and joy that, after a reasonable period of conversing with a person (say an hour), you find yourself getting to a point, where the baggage drops and you start to speak freely, frankly, with no inhibitions. When you do that, you find yourself reaching out. You touch. And You live.

I have come to realize that all other communication is your mind feeding you words and opinions to defend your image, your baggage of what you are. A manager, a senior expert or some adult. Now, that’s not communication. That’s manipulation. Listen to a child. You will realize.

My dad always told me, when someone who earnestly asks your opinion, you tell what you truly perceive. That’s the sole reason that person asked you in the first place. Safe answers ensures safety but leaves a vacuum. But when you shed yourself, get rid of your ego, you start to speak from your heart, there comes a clarity that transcends, the ‘earnestness’ is alone enough to make the other person perceive it.
You start to suspect that it is your face, your whole body, starts to communicate more than the words exchanged.

And I have always tried to live by my dad’s advice and it has given me some very rich moments, relationships that I truly cherish. I can look back, fetch memories, when I have genuinely communicated, perhaps even exposed myself mentally, but enjoyed the sharing, in giving what you have experienced. And, on all such occasions, those of you who have sat across me have appreciated and thanked me for whatever I have been to them. Of course, one may not completely accept but the ‘earnestness’ is never refused.

We all live in a world of egos and false pride that prevent us from actually communicating. Even when, this ‘gift’ is so innate in all of us.

I consider myself lucky to have realized it.

The essence of Prayer

2009-11-14T11:52:00.000-08:00

In the movie, Amistad(1997), John Quincy Adams (VIth President of United States) was actually in a fix to find a convincing argument to fight the case of African slaves before the US Supreme Court and worse, to explain the impossibility of it all to Cinque (Joseph Cinque, an African slave, member of the Mende tribe, fights the US for his freedom), when...

“I would call into the past and beg my ancestors to come and help me, for at this moment, I am the whole reason, they have existed at all!”

Cinque explains to Quincy Adams on how a member of the Mende Tribe, tries to solve a problem when he sees no solution at all. Quincy Adams looks at him in total admiration and later in the court room looks to his father’s statue John Adams (IInd President United States) while saying ‘we have been made to realize (by Cinque) that, WHAT WE ARE... is WHAT WE WERE…’

Perhaps, Cinque also explained to me, that day, the very essence of PRAYER. The essence of any ritual or rites, the essence behind all of mankind’s symbols, myths!
Till then it made no sense to me why we had these prayers, funny chantings, manthras to invoke our gods.

When there is nothing left to do, logically. When everything fails, scientifically, we all return to our faiths. Hope. We do things that seem illogical. We have seen manthras and kalams...the vibrant colors and everything... (especially to cure the mentally disturbed people)

I now wonder whether there is link to all this. I mean, there could even be an explanation to all that we do.

Of all the species, the human foetus happens to take the maximum time to come out. Nine whole months. All this time, it is said to quickly 'live' through the entire evolution of life itself. In fact, we are the aggregation of all that was before us. We have within us, all the knowledge our forefathers gathered. All their traits, wishes are hard wired into those DNA sequences.

Our forefathers are our gods. In all our prayers, in all our rituals and manthras, what we basically try to do is reach out to them! Not to Brahma, Jesus or Allah or Buddha. But to ourselves. Our older selves!

As Cinque tells, .....and they must come to my help because I am the sole reason why they survived to create me!
They cannot fail us. That’s the hope. That’s the final hope.

The psychiatrist C.S. Jung once wrote that we all live in a world of values derived actually from ancients’ myths. Old tribal impulses control our conscience even without ourselves knowing it. And, when some story or event has an unusual emotional bearing on us, it’s one of those ancient connections that get tapped.
Jung goes on to claim that each person shares a ‘collective unconscious’ which is a combination of instincts produced both culturally and biologically by previous generations. Myths (sacred stories) and ritual (sacred actions) shape these instincts and values.

Is this then the basis for all our manthras , prayers and kalams, where they try to reach into the past myths and cure us from our mental disturbances with powerful symbols. Did our forefathers realize that psychological ‘shocks’ such as these were effective, much before, our modern electric ‘shocks’ came into being?

Cinque was indeed conveying something very remarkable and profound...

The Dance of the Plastic Bag

2009-11-08T11:27:00.000-08:00

I have seen ‘The American Beauty’ for about ten times. Yet each time, Lester’s narrative left me rattled, thoroughly shaken. No doubt, Mendes and Alan were at their creative best.

I have often wondered what’s so mesmerizing about Lester and his narrative. In fact very few movies left me this contend and yet violated. Contend, because there was still hope in your life (now that you have seen Lester’s life just pass before you); violated, because you realize you have been dead (like Lester) all along. The first scene of the ‘shameless jerk off’ in the shower, virtually kicks your conscience.

Does mid life crisis hit you at your mid-thirties? ….Because, I am right there!

Now, to conclude that American Beauty just deals with midlife crisis would be an understatement. That would perhaps be a silly way to interpret Lester’s transformation. Even, to side step the lone psychic or mystic in the story, Ricky, would be like missing the message altogether. Granted, Midlife Crisis is perhaps one of the themes explored in American Beauty. But, instead of sticking stereotype definitions of Lester's issue (“MidLife Crisis : a period of dramatic self-doubt that is felt by some individuals in the "middle years" of life, as a result of sensing the passing of youth and the imminence of old”), my intuition tells me, Lester, in fact transcends to another level of experience where he sees compassion, beauty and saneness all around, especially, when he decides to protect his initial ‘infatuation’ (Angela). And finally you realize, perhaps, he was the only sane person in the movie who saw the futility of it all. In fact, the serene calmness on the lifeless face of a Lester in contentment tells it all.

Then again, nothing compares to the ’15 minute plastic bag dance’ that Ricky shows his love Jane. When I first saw the movie, I didn’t quite grasp it. Of course, your heart or your body recognizes the deeper meaning to it. But with repeated viewing this scene just sticks continues to amaze you. Everything that Ricky says… the enormous beauty of it all … that fact that you can find it in something supposedly as ordinary as a plastic bag, dancing. I have never seen it that way till then. You get ‘conditioned’ to see beauty only in clear blue skies and waterfalls. But to see it in everything, a plastic bag dancing , a dead bird or Lester's dead face is remarkable.

You think there is this dark humor running through every thread and everyone, from Carolyn the Colonel to the faggots next door. But finally, you realize you are unable to accuse anyone of anything as to the ending. The balancing has been perfect with no ‘bad’ character in the movie, leaving, perhaps, only destiny as the culprit.

Last, when Lester’s life just flashes before him. The ‘kodak moments’ in his life…so few… so rich…so sad…so true. Makes you wanna go down and hug your parents and your wife and kids.

Ah! You really feel ‘The unbearable lightness of being’

Bravo! I just cannot thank Sam, Allan and Kevin enough for this wonderful gift.

In awe of Lincoln

2009-11-07T10:32:00.000-08:00

There are three things that makes me worship Abraham Lincoln.

One, the fact that he was self taught and used to study & read books in street light!
Two, persistence personfied. Most than ten electoral failures before he became the President.
and Three, the perfect Letter to Mrs. Bixby!

Yeah, I know there are claims that his secretary wrote it but my feeling is that Lincoln had the calibre anyway.

[In the fall of 1864, Massachusetts Governor John A. Andrew wrote to President Lincoln asking him to express condolences to Mrs. Lydia Bixby, a widow who was believed to have lost five sons during the Civil War. Lincoln's letter to her was printed by the Boston Evening Transcript.]

Executive Mansion,
Washington, Nov. 21, 1864.

Dear Madam,--

I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle.
I feel how weak and fruitless must be any word of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save.
I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.

Yours, very sincerely and respectfully,

A. Lincoln

One is petrified by the enormity of the task before Mr. Lincoln here.Imagine you are asked to represent the state and console somebody who has lost everything. All her children. And to do it without overdoing it, without losing your self esteem but with all the sensitivity you can muster.

Ah! I am stunned by the beauty and brevity of the it.

I wish .. I only wish.. that I could write something even remotely similar in my lifetime.

Shades of Duplicity

2009-11-07T09:50:00.000-08:00

Perhaps Amistad moved me more than any of Speilberg’s works. There are some things that Cinque (Joseph Cinque, an African slave, member of the Mende tribe, fights the US for his freedom) says that shook me so violently that I was restless for days together.

Some things just jolts you. Awakens you.

There is this one scene, where he bursts out in his native Mende language. They had won their case and freedom before the US court, quite dramatically, when his lawyer friend comes to convey that the judgment has been overturned by the state and they would need to appeal to the Supreme Court. Cinque does not understand their sense of justice here. He does not understand the english word ‘Almost’. He is perplexed, cannot be calmed. He bursts out....

“What kind of a place is this? (i.e. the US)….where Laws ‘almost’ works! …..How can you live like that?”

The anger and bewilderment is so palpable… Morgan Freeman (a freed slave) and Mathew McConaughey(the friendly lawyer) watch in horror and awe at the raw display of power and against the backdrop of fire. Well, watching the scene, you can only burn in it.

Come to think of it, you start to wonder, has mankind progressed or regressed? In the simple world and the language of Mende, there is only a Yes or a No. There is no equivalent word for ‘almost’ in the Mende language, no in-betweens. Of course, one can conclude that their language was perhaps less sophisticated but their integrity? Wasn't that intact?

Just think for a moment. For an animal it’s always a simple emotion. Either they smile or they cry. A Yes or a No. But for a human being, it can be anything from a smile, sneer, smirk, grin, leer, grimace, laugh, beam and what not. Do you see the complexity, the grey levels we are capable of? Do we prefer to keep things grey that we developed so many of them? Can we only commune 'safely' in half truths?

Alas! There is nothing straightforward about a human being anymore. We think we are evolving but in reality we are building layers of duplicity. We have become sophisticated hypocrites in comparison to our ancestors.

Indeed, Cinque asks, quite rightly, "How you can survive in a world like this?"

Checklists assures, Lets you wander

2009-11-06T10:49:00.000-08:00

Checklists are in vogue these days. You have them for just about everything.

Checklists for all those quality procedures, checklists to pack your stuff, checklist for things to buy over the weekend so on and so forth...

This week something happened, I was the organiser of a event we do every year. Not a big affair but a 500 odd gathering where we have routine speeches and awards followed by a high tea. I had come up with a checklist and had even sent it across to my admin wing for early preparations. We thought we nailed everything (well, nearly everything). The programme started and i did my speaking and then went to sit among the crowds and then it struck me.

Ah! There was no photographer for the occasion!

I frantically called up my logistics and other wings to get an photographer. Unfortunately it never crossed anybody's mind. They tried to get one but it was too late.
well, Plan B. We switched on our cell phones cameras.

Well, what went wrong? I can easily accuse the admin or the traditional support wings who should have spotted this miss from my side (Because I am just a project manager). But why was such a thing missed? when I asked the admin in charge. He said all he was doing was following my checklist religiously!

Do you see it? This is not a just a checklist being not comprehensive or faulty. There are bigger mischiefs at work here. Of course, I accept that the checklist was incomplete. But why did others get led by it. Why did they assume that 'that was it'.
Isn't the same issue that we face with the stupid review comments we get or the reviews we ourselves do? Aren't we lead or rather mislead by what the document says. We do not think independently or outside what is explicit in the object being reviewed.

Is is it because we do not take things seriously? We can only spot things that we have spotted before. Maybe from our experience we cite a few things but where is the objectivity where one's vision is not blurred by the solution but fixed on the problem.

If one were to really think hard, checklists actually gives you a false sense of comfort and completeness. Of course, accumulation of previous mishaps are good but they are never complete. The situation or the problem might have taken on new twists or dimensions. Checklists can only be starters.

In fact, checklists lets your mind wander. You no longer need to be rooted to the present! The problem at hand. You are comfortable verifying against the mental or physical checklist you have while your mind can wander.

It aint easy to live in the present. Take every problem and instance objectively.

Ah! You guessed right. I shameslessly added 'Photographer' also to my checklist.

Integrity, the wholeness of being

2009-11-01T09:16:00.000-08:00

If there is any virtue that amazes me.. humbles me.. make me envy, it is INTEGRITY. I am yet to meet a person in real life who has it. We all live a life of compromise.

Look up integrity in dictionary. Integrity comes from Integral..Integer..being whole.

Often, when i wonder what is it that makes 'integrity' so appealing to me. Is it because i dont have it. Every odd character or hero in a film smacks of it. Yet it is so hard.. so hard to maintain one's integrity.
Being integral means having a clear vision being strong.. strong convictions... so sure of oneself.
I was so drawn to it after seeing the movie 'Scent of the woman' where Col. Slade says " I mean, the only class in this act is sittin' next to me. And I'm here to tell ya this boy's soul is intact. It's non-negotiable.....I'm not a judge or jury. But I can tell you this: he won't sell anybody out to buy his future!! And that, my friends, is called integrity! That's called courage! Now that's the stuff leaders should be made of. Now I have come to the crossroads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew. But I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard. Now here's Charlie. He's come to the crossroads. He has chosen a path. It's the right path. It's a path made of principle -- that leads to character. Let him continue on his journey.
You hold this boy's future in your hands, committee. It's a valuable future. Believe me. Don't destroy it! Protect it. Embrace it. It's gonna make ya proud one day -- I promise you."

Of course, one needs to see whole movie to appreciate the finer aspects but 'Integrity' meant much more to me after seeing the movie. Something non-negotiable. See the wholes, priciples, values, courage, strength of character.. everything that you desire and envy and yet, we let go our values, without a fight. Compromise every now and then, finding one excuse or the other because, basically, we lack the courage ..the will to hold on to what we hold dear. Somehow the right path is always infinitely hard.

In fact, practically, it may seem silly or even quixotic to hold on to one's values. But come to think of it, that's all what we have got!.

I believe Life should be lived in way such that, you should be able to look back and see yourself intact. Like an Integer. Whole. Not mutilated in fractions.

Power of Anonymity

2009-10-27T09:54:00.000-07:00

The power of being anonymous
I wonder what it means to be totally anonymous. Give nothing away other than these blogs. Without a face nor a name. Like God.
The first thing that strikes you is the tremendous freedom you enjoy. You could write about anything. Just anything. You can wear a mask and be anyone. Those of you who have had the fortune to study 'Lord of the Flies' would remember Jack and his 'masked' hunters. You really can be anyone. A zen student. A rapist. Or the sensual driver that i am! Anyone.
Second, the reader listens. I mean, actually 'listens'. Attentively. Because he or she has no clue as to the identity of the person. Each word is read as is known by the reader and not as 'written by so and so'. You have only words. The person is revealed only through words. Thus, the charm lasts forever.
As i mentioned before, once you figure out somebody, you categorize and shelf the writer, the power he wields is gone. Think about any favourite writer or director or singer. Anyone who has mesmerized you. First, you are bowled over by him. But instead continuing in that trance, you wanna know more. The desire to understand takes you further. Usually you start to dig his social and private life. You wanna know whether he had extra marital relations. You wanna know whether he is black..... And as you do, you categorize.....you think you suddenly know him and the reasons for each line he writes or the films he has directed. Havent you seen reviews that dissect a work with it's writer's life.

Look, I lost my love for Rafi when i heard that he was so materialistic in life. Got you there! See if you did not know that till now and you hear that, the fasination starts to fade, right? (now, did i just make that one up?)

Somehow we have to 'understand' everything that we come across, right? That too, on our own terms. Somehow we cannot let things just be. The magic remains, the wonder remains. Can't we be like children.
You know what. My daughter (i guess anyone's too) can watch a fairy tale like for the whole day and still wanna hear her mama tell the same story to sleep.

That's not being dumb, dear. That's zen!

Or maybe have you noticed, when you listen to great song (just your type) for the first time, it overwhelms you. You suffocate. Yet when you figure out the words and starts to sing along, the magic is long gone. The charm and mystery is lost for ever once you dissect and rip apart. The band 'Enigma' was a good example.

So? I took a vow to remain anonymous. Great! But..., haven't you noticed. I dont have single follower till date !! Wonderful.The power of being anonymous.

A zen master once asked,
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
Me being anonymous but no readers? Does it still make me anonymous? Anonymous to whom?

Does it matter? (In case, you haven't noticed. That's my name)

Building a Submarine SpaceShuttle

2009-10-25T11:43:00.000-07:00

Yes. Ever built a Submarine SpaceShuttle? ........Ever?

Well, I have commissioned two!

Yeah yeah, i can hear you folks.
What?....What .. on Earth is a Submarine Spaceshuttle?
And ....Man! where the hell do you work?

Hmmm... I am a software professional. Well, without much ado, let me explain. Submarine Spaceshuttle was a term coined by my mentor. A person who taught me among many things, to laugh at the mess we create. I am not sure whether he got the idea of a submarine spaceshuttle from Jules Verne. I never cared to ask.

So, A Submarine Spaceshuttle.
You guessed right. Something that can go deep into the oceans and also take to the heavens. It did not make much sense to me then, when my mentor called our dream product, a Submarine SpaceShuttle! It actually dawned much later that the term had many layers to it.

Think about it, folks. Isn't this like, the most complex thing you can think of at the moment. Rocket Science and Deep Oceans... all fused into one!

But, besides the extreme complexity that amazes you, what strikes you is the extend of stupidity in building such a thing. I mean who would want such a thing?

Why did we built it?
After version 1.0 of any complex software fails to impress and all the stake holders start baying for your blood, you come back from the dead with a 2.0.
Studded with complex conflicting features to a point of overkill where none wants to use it. In fact the thing gets so complex and wierd that it scares the shit out of the end user, right? All it proves beyond mankind's stupidity is that such a thing can be built!

Yeah, the 'Submarine Spaceshuttle' is only a euphemism for the quintessential 'feature creep' that sets the version 2.0s apart.

Einstein once said "Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."

About ten years back, I helped my mentor ship one that never sold a copy.

Technologically brillaint but practically useless.

Driving Fast

2009-10-25T09:55:00.000-07:00

Until lately i was under the impression that i can in fact drive slowly! but just this once, let me drive fast, please....

Well, what do others have to say about my driving?
Needless to say, dad's incessant advice to see reason ('What do you gain by getting home a few minutes earlier?') fall on deaf ears. My mom reminds me of my daughters when i gun the machine. Luckily, my wife does not say a word when i am pushing the limits. Somehow she has realized it's no use. My mother in law says it is like travelling on a boat. You swing and sway (and pray)! Even my daughter hates her dad's driving.

Now, getting to the destination ahead of time, setting records are certainly not reasons to drive fast. They are only your intial excuses. Though you don't show it, you do feel proud when someone comments on your 'rashness' or boldness (whichever way he sees it). But when you get on the bed to sleep, people's comments do make you feel guilty. Was i really rash and stupid today? Sometimes this selfdoubt sents down a chill as you mentally replay the scene.
Often i have taken resolutions to drive at recommended levels and believe me here, i even tried. But after a while it hits you. I honestly dunno. When you are out there, you dunno how the confidence sets in. Though the replays at home does worry, it is so strange that when you are driving it is so 'clear' that there was only one thing to do at that moment.

Ok. Let me face it. I just can't drive slowly. And I am no longer guilty about it too. Finally when i was done analyzing it, i realized that in fact there is no 'The Way' to drive a machine. Ironic it may seem, but you really are more comfortable and a lot safer driving fast. Well, if emotions don't come in the way, you stay focused and relaxed.

It's odd but it is true. They never teach you to drive fast in those schools. It's in your very nature that you easily pick up. Driving means driving fast only. Nothing else makes sense. All along, i guess i have been picking up such little lessons, totally oblivious, on how to drive fast. Because, that's me or my style.

Like Jason Bourne says in 'The Bourne Identity', when he enters a hotel and he scans the room and occupants, he can tell the exit paths, read people mind and intensions. Well, let me not dramatize, i may not be a Bourne myself but at a much lower scale, when i hit road, i can pick 'gaps' very easily (btw, i am talking of Indian roads), i can invade other's spaces without taking too much offense, i can take accurate calls on when to take my chances etc.

It is not because it was taught to me. The same dude taught my sister and i know what she does. Each driving hour, each incident sharpens your skill. I mean the 'unconscious' skill or 'want' to drive fast. Negating it by deliberately or consciously driving slow is the very negation of you. It suffocates you.

You simply dont understand why you shouldn't take that 'chance' you just saw before you, even though the rest of the onlookers felt it was rash. I am reminded of the compliment ('gutsiest move i ever saw, man!') given to Tom Cruise's flying in Top Gun.

Think about it. Some people can see, feel and solve the puzzle that might seem magic or rash to others. Maybe it is something innate in them that helps to spot it or it's their relentless pursuit and training to spot it. Like i once blogged earlier, it is like 'time and space' is different for different people. Skillset matters. It is indeed like Gilchrist making mince meat of bowlers. Picking gaps at will.

Unfortunately we see only rashness or magic depending on our inclination. Yeah, cheer Gilchrist while drown me in advice!

How much would suffice?

2009-10-24T10:18:00.000-07:00

I once quizzed my good friend on how much hike would make him truly happy? He had a number in his mind, "50% more" he said. No, he thought further and hiked it to 100% (more than what he is having right now). Fine, we grant that but suppose, in a week’s time, he was to find out that his colleague got 5% more than the hike we gave him, he would be devastated. Why is this so?

Take a moment... Just think of what I am suggesting here. We do not even know how much we want. Or worse, what we want, to be truly happy. We just want to have more than our colleague sitting next. Now, salary and colleagues were just pointers.

I can even use ‘driving’ to prove my point here. What makes you truly happy in driving? Speeding at 80 kmph? or is it 100 kmph or 120? We don’t know. It makes no difference, does it? In fact we don't care unless we overtake someone. We can find happiness only in travelling 'faster' than somebody. We really don’t have a clue to live happily without comparison, do we?

In fact, there are more than one question that bothers me here.
First, Why do we live in comparisons? My good friend had clearly put a price for his happiness (the 100% hike), right?
Second, why do we compare with only our 'peers', like classmates, people with same years of experiences or maybe degrees or simply we both being Christians or Keralites etc.
Last, Why do we madly 'race' to find some peer always to compare with? That is, if you working in your hometown, you find some peers to gauge yourself. Fine. You land a good job overseas. Suddenly you forget your old 'peers' and you reset your scales. You quickly find new 'peers' for reference! Want more driving lessons? You overtake a Honda and do you stop with that ? Or do you still go on to find another ‘peer’ to overtake?

Hmmm…I don’t think a single answer would suffice. I don’t even know if it can be logically approached. But I can offer some interesting parallels. You see, it is impossible for human beings to live without comparisons, some frame of reference. Why? Well, before we bring on the 'mighty mind' itself under the lens, look at the five senses we have. Sight, Smell, …Touch. Even they all can only sense ‘differences’. Suppose you use a air freshener in your room, you catch the pleasant whiff. Fine. After a while, you don’t feel it anymore. It has not disappeared it is just that our nose reset its base. Now you won’t catch it but another person entering the room can. It is the same with some humming sound you hear. It is a nuisance at first hear but after a while you don’t find it annoying as before. Again your ear just changed its threshold.
Don’t think this is a weakness. It’s a blessing. How else can you tolerate your partner’s snoring. In case you are wondering. No. My wife doesn’t snore.

So you see, our senses are only detectors and not meters that measure. There is no absoluteness anywhere. If you increase it so slowly and steadily we wouldn’t even know. Like global warming! I think our mind is no different. We need a reference or something to compare. Only against something we can check our worthiness through ‘differences’.

Why we do this? Now, that is a bigger question. I think you do it because you are not in union with the ultimate. You still perceive the world as different from yourself. In fact all religions try to put this across. We are all one and the same thing. Whatever you want to call it. God? Fine.

In Sanskrit, they say 'Tat Tvam Asi' or 'Thou art that'.

Once you truly understand what it means. There is nothing left to compare. You feel complete. Till then, the voidness and the duality urges us to compare. We only see comparisons. We exist in comparisons.

I must admit, at this juncture, it is still an intuition for me. Light years to go before I ...

I know we need to dig deeper. Another night perhaps.

Justice of the Savannas

2009-10-22T11:01:00.000-07:00

I always thought killing was a sin until I read in an magazine (onboard to US , 1999) that

The Savanna grasslands of Africa are home to gazelles and cheetahs. Every morning, each gazelle wakes up praying he be given strength to outrun the fastest cheetah that day to survive or get eaten up. Same morning, each cheetah wakes up praying that it can outrun the slowest gazelle for food or face starvation and extinction. Justice is served in the Savannas because no matter what you are , a cheetah or a gazelle, when morning breaks, you better be running!

It is important to realize there is no point in pitying the gazelle and hating the cheetah here. Talking about killing, i guess with the exception of man, all animals except man kills for only food. Man alone kills for pleasure. Some men i mean. If you have seen the 'Dances with the wolves' you would know what i mean. But we are hear to discuss justice.
Look at the skewed sense of justice we have developed. Our sense of justice recommends a tit-for-tat remedy to the problem of crime. Someone kills another, the killer is hanged, though all we have achieved is lose two lives in the bargain. Could the killer be spared and transformed. The possibility definitely exists but for a society to survive, to strongly discourage such acts of crime, it was perhaps thought prudent to instill fear than pardon or correction.
Modern Justice is designed to be blind (like the blind lady holding the balance). We seek objective justice, based on facts and evidence alone. But we were humane once.

In 2004, I had the good fortune to invite one of my English teachers to my wedding. Among many things that we discussed, was a question ‘How things have deteriorated over the years?”. He thought for a while and narrated his old experiences in Nigeria. It was a rare insight.

Well, I actually fell in love with Africa after seeing the movie “Out of Africa”. A gripping story. Redford and Streep. You can’t ask for more. But it is the of charm of Africa that fills you. Silences you.

Anyway when my teacher arrived in Nigeria, it was a backward place. Yet he cited examples to describe that heaven. Once he had tried to lock the car and a missionary told him that is not needed in Nigeria! Nobody locks their houses. Stealing was unheard of , he said. That’s like a fairy tale, right?
Then again, once his car broke down and he was left stranded with his wife and it was getting dark. Before long, two guys coming along in a bicycle. They took to a safe place and also cycled all the way to the next village to fetch help. That’s was Nigeria.

What made it interesting was the “Laws and Sense of Justice” of the people of Nigeria. See, their village, if a man steals a banana if he is hungry it’s not a crime but if you pocket it, it is punishable!

My teacher concludes with even a stranger irony. Nigeria was such a heaven and then an interesting ‘Development’ happened, they struck gold, I mean OIL! With that came money, industrialization and development. But with that also came greed and corruption. Today we know what Nigeria is. Let's discuss this happens another time perhaps.

But I was struck by the humane aspect of the Nigerian Law. Their Justice had eyes of compassion. Laws that transcend mere objectivity! Alas, we lost all that. I think the justice being practiced now is largely influenced by the West. One cannot find fault with it. It has its gains. But one must acknowledge that this methodical evidence based objective approach is not complete. We human beings have something more. Unfortunately when we dissect with the knife of science, we lose another aspect which we can capable of sensing but not measuring or defining. Or maybe we lose that sensibility all together.

Let’s not blame those who framed them. In fact our current sense of Justice is only reflective of our times and values. Face it, modern man has become sophisticated. Corrupted. He has fallen. He no longer has any qualms to lie or cheat. He deserves the current sense of Justice he has devised.

But the sadness is in the fact that we had a much higher sense of Justice. Once. Even in remotes villages of Nigeria. And we lost it.

Perceptions are all what we have got and yet

2009-10-21T19:53:00.000-07:00

"We perceive. This is a hard fact. But what we perceive is not a fact of the same kind, because we learn what to perceive"
Carlos Castaneda.

Nothing could be more right. Perceptions are indeed limited, more importantly, biased. That perhaps answers a lot of the misunderstandings that result in human interactions. Poor understanding resulting in egos getting hurt, though intentions were noble.

In fact, one sees biases everywhere. They are also called ‘conditioning’. There are strong ones that operate at a global level like say, the general perception that Muslims as militant or unpatriotic until proved otherwise. They need to do the ‘extra bit’ to prove that indeed patriotic. Subtle ones like branding Islam as conservative religion. You hear a Muslim defend his faith and suddenly, your mind marks him as fanatic. Maybe it is that beard or the cap. Well, I just picked a few new ones here to prove my point. That’s all. In fact, we shouldn’t forget the clichéd ones like colored people being inferior.

We owe our perceptions, our conditionings to the inputs during our formative years. Our upbringing, our family values, the education one had and friendship developed, books new papers read, channel watched. In fact any god-damn input that goes in and unfortunately does not go out. Those that gets stored get used to mould future assumptions. We constantly accumulate, categorize and compare in learning, concluding our opinions. They become our faith or they become the person you are. A hindu or Christian, a keralite, an engineer…. Perception is thus not based on instant data but past data. As the brain gets crowded you give the person or object being perceived very little chance of being different though he is. As you meet and get to know a person, your mind raises to ‘categorize’ him. Move him from the ‘unknown’ to a known category as you decide on your response to such ‘type’ of people. Somehow you cannot accept a person as he is, fresh each time you encounter him. Accepting the possibility that he is changed or different.

How many of us, anymore, still look in the face of our father while we talk to our old man. We have been seeing him for like ‘all our life’ and have firm conclusions about him. You no longer listen and look at him as a new person, even though you know he has changed from the last encounter. We assume too much. We are talking to him assuming him to be this and that. Such and such characteristics. Our minds have already cleared an image and opinion about him and closed taking in future inputs. When this is the case, many things happen.

Like , you do not pick the changes. You only look for and only recognize what you already know or assume about the person. You are in a haste to map everything (pattern matching) that you see to what you know, ‘ignoring’ or not processing what you don’t expect! Now suppose your dad drinks and you don’t approve of it. And suppose he looks little happy or jolly when he is inebriated. Now, every time you see him happy, you assume he had a peg or two. The funnier thing is that our nose expects to catch the alcohol and even if you get another fragrance your senses might fail you. Or even you start thinking, ‘Ah, the old man has taken a mouth fresher or something’. Why? Because you never expected him to try a mouth freshener. Or because you already know your dad drinks and you expect it.

Btw, my dad does not drink.

It is the same everywhere, data shows that very often if you show (confidently) some photo card as an ID to a familiar guard you see each day, he would let you in. It may not even be your card. The reason again is that the guard expects to see your card and also ‘sees’ your card in whatever you show (unless of course you show something stupid as a flower). This is perhaps the beginnings of art of magic even. You perceive what you expects.

If you think you are not being fed false data, let me give you another simple example. Something you can try out. Next time you bath, do it complexly blind. I mean switch on the lights as usual. You know where the toiletries are anyway. Shower, soap, perfume, towel. Everything. Now close your eyes and gently go about the routine shower you take. You stand in the shower, wash yourself, apply soap and towel. All have their unique style. While you go about the whole thing, it might amaze you that you still ‘see’. Mind just starts throwing at you all the images as you need them. When you are applying soap to your toes, you can see that. You take the towel and as you start drying yourself, you see all this. Guided perfectly. See, you are being fed data. Old data.
Now you realize why your mind or brain ‘wanders’ even when your eyes are open during bathing. You don’t process what you each instance. That optimization you do is the reason for not living in the present. That gives us the false perceptions.

Castaneda was right. We have learnt what to perceive that we no longer perceive what is!

why do maids cook so much?

2009-10-20T09:46:00.000-07:00

I have often wondered. We have had like six to seven maids till date and invariably they all tend to cook dishes in large quantities. Initially i thought maybe the earlier ones were just dumb. It never made sense. Like when my wife or my mother cooks, it's just the right amount. Nothing is really wasted. But add a maid and suddenly the quantities just shoot up like we have a dinosaur in the family. I am not being stingy. I just wonder, why this waste? The funny part is that, very soon, you are busy clearing up old stocks that, you never get to the fresh dishes any more!

Then again, look at the economics. I mean , have you considered the possibility that, these maids probably dish out lavish feasts at their homes too. Nah! if they were so well-to-do, what are they doing at my house working for peanuts!

I have often brought this up with my wife when we dined and i am sure she must have preached their ears off, better still, rationed the resources too. Well, Looks like it never worked out. What? They don't listen to her anymore? Are they so dumb to see how much food is wasted?

I couldn't honestly get it. The logic eluded me until..!

The issue is one of simple perception. Very often, we are stupid enough to keep groping for answers within our limited our frame of reference. Our preferences and priorities.
Think about it from a maid's point of view. Her priorities. I realizse, (in my case) all the maids used to have food at our place itself. Now, naturally they are probably the last ones to have it too. How do they ensure that they have 'enough' to eat when their turn finally comes? What if the master of the house decides to have the extra bit of rice or maybe my kid loves a specific dish! Or maybe someone in the family skipped breakfast.

I guess their fears are only too genuine. The only risk reduction strategy i can think of is to cook 'enoughhhhhhh' so that 'enough' reaches you.

Sensual Driving

2009-10-19T11:56:00.000-07:00

Before you get the wrong sense of it, look up sensual in dictionary. Sensual also means 'pertaining to the senses'. I think it's just our fascination with sex that gave this word a bad connotation.
I wanted to blog today but my 2-month daughter is in my arms. All are sleeping but we are having a great time. She refuses to lie on my lap. She wants to sit up and watch me blogging! It is like 11.00 p.m. and we are playing 'Life is Crazy' from Wake up Sid in the background.
Have you ever given your finger for a baby to hold? She grabs it and you are stunned by the firmness of the grip. I noticed only after I read Eugen Herrigel’s 'Zen in the art of Archery'. The fascination is in fact that the little face never betrays the firmness of the hand. Amazing! How does she do it?

I think there are many ways to drive your machine. Car or Bike, it makes no difference. It's the man-machine fusion that amazes me. So you can drive your car with a vengeance, I mean fast, real fast. Like bordering on insanity as you take on the battle on the roads. I have done that. Gone on suicidal missions myself.
You can also drive as if it is a burden. My dad does that. There isn’t a single day he curses the nonsense on the road. Well, I don’t blame him. He has been driving for like 35 years! He misses the empty roads of the 70s. He is in his 70s but he can still get home on a rainy day. Hats off!

Ah! She has started to yawn. That’s a good sign.

Then you can drive like some women do. Sorry ladies, but c'mon, you know what I mean. Yeah, the ones that never goes beyond the 3rd gear. They drive oblivious of the mess they leave behind. They never grasp the subtleties of driving. I didn’t mean the obvious hand signals. I meant the expressions of an approaching driver. That nod of acknowledgement or perhaps the stare as you invade their space. I know, there are limits to liberties one can take.

Then, there are 'invalids' like the old man himself, obstinate, driving a dream like Skoda at 40kmph! They never hire professionals (Who said I can’t drive, eh?) It is an insult to the machine, to those men who build that machine. To Mankind itself!

But I wanted to talk about the different stages of driving. We all begin as toddlers, perspiring during the initial months as we master one trick after another to enter the 'teens' of driving.

Teenage driving is fast and reckless rebel-without-a-cause driving. To them, driving is a war to be won. As you race to ahead each vehicle, it's like tasting blood. And there are different ways to do it.
The outright maneuver where you don’t even give a chance to know what happened. The hapless driver does not even catch you on his rear mirror as speed fast.
Or you play 'cat and mouse' to wear him down, play on his nerves kissing his butt for like 30 minutes as you negotiate the turns and highways in unison, you don’t overtake even if you can, you tense him up, until, you kill at your will. Humiliate as you pick the instance and place.
Or maybe you wanna actually let the idiot overtake you, let him get out of sight. And then, give it to him. Rash and reckless, something out of the blue that blows his brains! Oh! There are many ways.

Why do the little ones love the comfort of the arms? I can almost hear my little one snoring! She has an odd way of putting both her hands above her head while she sleeps.

But some pass through the teens without the thrills, they probably started late in life or never had the balls. They are the sane ones though. There are also those teens who never grow up. Stay teen and die teen.
Getting to the 'sensual' level takes time. Driving, with your full senses. Not with your heart or mind. You cut out them out and use your senses alone. Then driving becomes like my daughter's grip. Firm yet no firmness on her face. You drive with passion, but your body betrays no passion. No malice, No vengeance. No Bravados either. Your heart doesn’t pound nor the pressure raise. You drive like a machine yourself.

No feelings interfere. You’ve got all the skills and you know your machine. All you do is measure the context and move your body (your car) in response. When you drive you no longer impose yourself. Your hands caress the steering but the grip is firm. Your feet are gentle on the pedals but firm. You drive the hundreds as you are drive the fifties. You no longer drive fast for the sake of being fast. You drive fast because the context demands it.

You also realize that your machine 'lives' and 'drives' you as much as you drive it. Like a faithful pet, every machine knows it’s only master. That’s why they say never let another drive your machine. You don’t believe me? Well, after five years of driving your machine, trying driving another machine of the same make, the strangeness amazes you. What makes you think that machine won't feel the same about you letting someone else drive your machine. The wear and tear of its nuts and bolts, all have your characteristics, your very nature of driving. It just knows.
Now, you no longer need that hapless look on the face of person to feel content. You also do not curse when a better machine outsmarts you. Nothing is taken personally. Nothing touches or unseats you.

You are just in love with your machine and driving is just lovemaking.

I take my girl and place her by my wife’s side. Good night.

The Zen of Ironing

2009-10-18T01:32:00.000-07:00

Nothing has puzzled me like Zen. I've grabbed every title i can lay my hands on. Yet it eludes me. Yes, i know. Zen cant be explained, taught but still you buy. The problem is that its radically simple for the complex nuts that we have become. The tools of comprehension you've sharpened over the years are the bottlenecks. Well, let's save Zen for another blog.
Infact, I have come to realize that Zen reveals itself more through simple 'mindless' daily chores than books. Though, I still buy :)

Ironing!
Next time you need to iron your shirt or anything for that matter, save enough time for it. You must'nt rush through it thinking about the ppt you need to dash off soon after or how good you gonna look in that attire once done. No. If you use to iron your shirt in 5 mts, i would recommend 20. Yes. 20 mts.
Observe the shirt for a moment. Lay it down gently on the table. Run you palm over it slowly as you caress and smoothen the fabric.
Go through your routine style (it's different for each one of us) but when you apply, be deliberately slow and gentle. Take time to observe what you were doing till now unconciously. Never apply pressure like rushing it in one stroke. Let it glide like a yacht on those curly waves on hot summmer lake. You caress. You observe the waves destroyed as the iron leaves behind a spanking neat trail. Feel the warmth with your palm. Observe and feel as you play out the style you have mastered. Observe closer and closer. Leaving no room for the mind to flutter. This physical involvement gets involved, then it goes deeper. All your sensory inlets gets fully loaded. Eyes keenly following the iron and enjoying the order being created from the chaos of wrinkles. Your hands should feel the heat, touching, caressing. The ears should pick up the russle of the fabric and the steam. Nose should sense the fragrance of the hot fabric. The physical act becomes totally integrated and indulgent. There is no duality anymore. Like the iron and you, the artist. They have fused into one. You become the very 'act'(i.e. ironing)in fact. Completely engrossed. It becomes an art and the experience cannot be measured in time because there is no observer. No one keeping time. There is no mind here. It's only because you have an external clock, you end up realizing you 'lost' 20 mts. But when every action becomes an art and you are lost in it like children. There is no self. There is no time or space.

I know it is difficult. The only thing we know close enough is sex. Sex is poor man's zen. Have you wondered why sex is so fascinating ? Hmmm. Because you are able to lose yourself completely in it. Have you noticed your mind is not there at all. You dont think abt that ppt anymore when you are in the act. Because it's so physical. It's so ancient, so carnal, yet, so scared an experience that we inherited from our forefathers, that anyone can attain it by losing himself. And it's absolute joy. Thats precisely what it is when the yogis talk about enlightment (well that's in another dimension) but this is the best,lesser mortals like us, can afford. So we play back it again and again. Though it pales, it's never lost.

I hope you see it, it is not just ironing. When any simple action is performed with full attention. I don't mean concentration here. That's like making your mind think about one thing only. I meant keeping it completely open. Observing everything though your five senses. You live in the present. Every action becomes an art. A pleasurable experience. And more importantly each time it is a new experience.

The problem is that once we learnt to iron. We develop and leave it as a programmed reflex. It's now executed in the background while your mind starts to multiplex your favourite past time. Jumping from one worry to another. Suddenly everything is a labour. And Ironing becomes a routine where there is nothing new to be observed or learnt.

The secret is in remaining a child. Refusing to learn. Cut out the mind. Feel your body and iron with it. Not just your hands and mind alone.
Feel it. Taste it. Indulge. Thats the Zen of Ironing.
When you do all that you do, like this. You have attained Zen. That's what i think.

Ore Kadal : Muddier than one thinks

2009-10-17T13:01:00.000-07:00

Some movies leave you refreshed and motivated. Some others leave you disturbed, amused and puzzled. Ore Kadal belongs to the latter. I am wondering whether the director knew what he was getting into. One is amused to find criticisms on its implications, its take on extra-marital. Touches a raw nerve leaving the naive in our tabooed society disturbed.
The director or the writer has only presented the events. He does not draw any conclusion. I mean he realizes that himself. Ask him why meera chose nadhan? I believe he cannot possibly know. I think he was wise in narrating the events as it is. The flick taunts your intelligence. Come, comprehend me!
Well, I am not giving up.
The movie is a mirror. Some find it honestly disturbing. Meera's inability , her choice. Some find it liberating. Some others might even find it amusing. Like people who have been there already. So the movie is like a mirror ; exposing ourselves and our prejudices. The movie never suggests. It only narrates.
Come to think of it, we always try to and want to understand a movie. We feel, only then, the endeavor was worthwhile. Or maybe, we do not want confess that we didn’t understand. So one might even conclude it’s a stupid movie with the wrong message. True. Unfortunately the movie does not offer any excuses as to Meera’s choice and you are left dangling. You can ransack your mind to nail a reason. Looks like the director has succeeded in making us realize the futility of it all.

Is there is reason for choosing the drunkard, someone not given to emotions, someone who has not shown any commitment but now is willing to. He might as well go after another person. Can there be a reason for leaving her faithful husband? Any justifiable reason? Branding her morally weak would be an insult to that character.
There are ample reasons but maybe you realize there can be no ‘justifiable’ reasons. Her reasons are her own reasons. It is not up for judgment. That’s all.

For example. Meera realizes life is for living. Its hers. Not the society's. Of course she makes a fool of all the faithful women who pull on for the sake of the sacred institution of marriage (speaking of values) , for the sake of children ( mind you, Meera left with her kid). Is it then The Society versus The Individual. When we talk about society, it includes her responsibilities as a responsible mother to her child.
This is no solution for the society but it is her life. Life is the pursuit of happiness. There are no guarantees that Nathan offers nor (more importantly) Meera seeks. Maybe she is taking a risk. And by taking it, she is ‘living’ in the present. If she had compromised, she would have stopped ‘living’ anyway. Reminds of Kazantzakis’s Zorba.
I did read somewhere the director’s take on the movie. Like they found love under extreme duress and it changed them. It is possible, yet, I think it needs to be told that nothing is final . I believe it is just that they decided to ‘live’ or ‘pursue happiness’ or ‘rediscover the meaning to existence’ in the present. It is not that Nathan is the man for Meera, except for the moment. But then you ask, isn’t that sluttish?

You think it is not. Yet, you don’t know it is not.

Wake Up Sid!

2009-10-17T11:05:00.001-07:00

Nothing new if you grew on hollywood but feels good to see a bollywood flicks come of age. Handles romance without the regular melodrama. Ranbir is refreshing but i thought Konkana was stereotyped. If you have seen 'Luck by Chance', 'Life in Metro' i mean. Like into 90 mts and one starts to wonder how they gonna wrap up in 10 mts. Well, they manage that neatly.
There isnt anything complex about the character or the film. Infact, nothing linkers on. Not in the league of DCH,RDB. Not even a Rock on or Life in a Metro.

Shankar Mahadevan has given me some bubbly feel-good ones to play for the next few weeks.

Time Expands in 'No Mind' Zone

2009-10-16T11:30:00.000-07:00

During the initial days of driving there are things you cant help noticing.
Why are there so many gears?
Why do they make it so complicated by introducing the ‘clutch’?
Wont a brake and accelerator do?

Then again, haven't we noticed how little time we have to do anything. By the time you get to the 4th gear for smooth cruising, those damned obstacles ahead ask you to start the down-them routine. If you decide that 3rd gear is all you need, you don't get beyond 20 km/hr. Decide to track or manage the gears, you lose control of the wheel. In short you don’t even realize that your mind is only capable of processing a FIFO at a time. Well, let us not humiliate ourselves by bringing up subtler aspects like ‘half-clutch’ brakes or the zen of night riding in a downpour.

But after a year or so, (well! if you are not 50+) you find the time between flipping those gears has suddenly expanded. Somehow, you now sense the engine's response and your body responds with right gear. You realize you talk , sing and even steal a glance sideways while your wheel is steady; your feet move without your mind. Its all automatic and 'Half-Clutch' is now a natural state of being.

How does time expand between the same events that happened a year before? How does one become so quick at multitasking? Improved reflexes but how? Nothing really changed at a material level. The same car, the same road and the same contextual inputs! Yet, your skill now relegates it to an efficient background daemon.
Analyze? Well, the eye still needs to pick up the sight of moving obstacles but instead of our mind (analyzing to decided on a response)->(checking the current gear & speed)->(brain directing the body to flip gears)->(Steer the wheel)->(Switch indicator).........
We now understand its only because we are able to respond at another time & space plane that we continue to drive sanely. The mind has become so quick that there is 'infinite time' between the same events to respond. One look at the context, the most accurate response is selected and executed without any logical analysis interfering. Over the year, numerous reflexes or programmed responses have been tested and perfected. Now we just trust them. The correct reflex program is selected and executed in background. Simple. There is no more mind involved. Time is not lost in analyzing and verifying. So it is now free to steal that sideways glance! Suddenly you start noticing those extra 'seconds' between the time to switch gears :)

Time expands in no mind zone.

We can find similar programs everywhere. Like typing the keyboard without looking. It is programmed and mastered as a reflex routine that the body (mind/fingers) executes spontaneously as words take shape in mind. Instead, if the mind were to (analyze) ->(bring up the image of the keyboard)->(ascertain the key position) every time we draft a letter, we would be severely impaired. Why, even simple handwriting is such mastered reflexes. Breathing? All the involuntary motions of the body? Programmed and moved aside so that our stupid mind does not analyze to slow it down.

That brings us to to 'skill' and 'talent'. Ever seen Gilchrist time a six off a ball, traveling at 100 miles/hr to perfection? It cannot be taught or analyzed by a conventional means. Surely he did not see that ball delivered at so close a distance as 22 yards and 100 miles/hr! How did he judge the trajectory and time his body (bat is only a part of the body) to perfection. The eye cannot even catch such a ball in flight. Either its a fluke or perhaps, he (i.e. his body) simply knew even before the ball was delivered, its trajectory! That's not taught. That's learned. By the body. Fine tuned by hours of practice. To pick up, signals, as strange as the look of the bowler or perhaps feel the wind , hear the bounce. Sensitivity. Sensibility. Amplified beyond normal ranges to pick up and differentiate inputs that normal mortals cannot.

So then, skill is when your sensitivity/sensibility is amplified a thousand times to differentiate and identify the right inputs and speed, is when the right program or reflex is 'sensed' for the given input and executed in 'no mind'.

Then Time and space stands still. And you see magic.

There is magic everywhere.
We all write.
Some drive beautifully.
Few bat like Gilchrist.

I guess only the degree matters.