….Somebody has a solution?
Let us read and try to understand what Ayn Rand once said…
"An emotion is an automatic response, an automatic effect of man's value premises. An effect, not a cause. There is no necessary clash, no dichotomy between man's reason and his emotions—provided he observes their proper relationship. A rational man knows—or makes it a point to discover—the source of his emotions, the basic premises from which they come; if his premises are wrong, he corrects them. He never acts on emotions for which he cannot account, the meaning of which he does not understand. In appraising a situation, he knows why he reacts as he does and whether he is right. He has no inner conflicts, his mind and his emotions are integrated, his consciousness is in perfect harmony. His emotions are not his enemies, they are his means of enjoying life. But they are not his guide; the guide is his mind. This relationship cannot be reversed, however. If a man takes his emotions as the cause and his mind as their passive effect, if he is guided by his emotions and uses his mind only to rationalize or justify them somehow—then he is acting immorally, he is condemning himself to misery, failure, defeat, and he will achieve nothing but destruction—his own and that of others."
What an insight from an erudite thinker!
Let us check our own premises. Are emotions the cause or the effect? Or let us put it in a different way: do we want them to be the cause or the effect?
For most of us, the driving factor is the environment around us. The virtual boundary, the split that widens as a function of time comes as a direct consequence of the split between what we want as the cause or the effect. These emotions that from an inseparable part of our actuality lay the foundation for a plethora of expectations: so much so, that we start expecting not only from others, but even from ourselves. Expectations that lead to compromises and compromises that slowly lead to clashes.
There is a certain amount of inevitability about all this that ultimately leads us into an intangible web! However, I sometimes do beleive "It is not advisable, lames, to venture unsolicited opinions. You should spare yourself the embarrassing discovery of their exact value to your listener."
CLASH of EGO
Some questions, though seemingly objective, provide a perpetual subjectivity to our own being. How many people in my world really love me? How many people in my world do I really love? Answers to both these questions are objective in nature, but the definition they provide to our own self, is definitely subjective. Do we see any co-relation in the answers to the above two questions? In most pragmatic situations we will not! Why is that?
What is important to note is, how we define ourselves. I mean a definition using which we tend to carry ourselves in our daily ordinary life. Though definitions of two individuals can never be the same (or else they won’t be individuals!), it is remarkable how we tend to define ourselves more in terms of things we dislike rather than as a function of things that we like. Happiness depends mainly on men’s dispositions, not on their riches (though I sincerely believe that even riches started forming an inevitable part of it). The unconscious propensity to lean on the above kind of definition definitely makes a man ignorant in the way he acts in mundane affairs.
It is inevitable that such a definition creates what can be called a virtual boundary between our real self and what we ultimately define of our self as an inference to the above definition. This boundary in effect is the mover and shaker of all what we do and what all decisions we make. But what has this got to do with me, one would ask? We unconsciously make compromises in our daily chores, and these compromises are mostly driven along the boundary we talked about. These compromises may not reflect any direct impact in the short term, but these small drops ultimately drop in to what I term as the Clash of Ego.
It is ego which drives a wider split in the aforementioned boundary. Think of it, thinking of relationships. How many relationships are independent of and have no direct or indirect implications of ego? Ask me, even the most sacred of relationship, that of a mother and child, and Ego are not mutually independent. But a Clash of Ego therein does not cast a shadow because the cultism in that relationship overpowers the ill effect through its illuminating halo. What about friendship? We can surely say that this relationship and Ego are not mutually independent. But, does it have that kind of power? Personally, I believe that it does not. And as the drops keep on pouring down the time lane, Clash of Ego starts reflecting into its own face. The oasis turns into a mirage and it gets difficult to extend our hand and hold what we most want to hold, the relationship. Somebody has a solution?
Firehouse - Here For You
So you think you've got it all figured out
Well you know you can't make it alone
Everbody needs somebody to help them out
And you know I could be that someone
And if you ever get lost on life's highway
Don't know where to go
There's just one thing that I want you to know
Chorus :I am here for you, always here for you
When you need a shoulder to cry on
Someone to rely on,
I am here for you
So you think that love is long overdue
Tired of looking for someone to care
Let me tell you know the choice is up to you
But you know I will always be there
I am here for you, always here for you
When you're needin` someone to hold you
Remember I told you
I am here for you,
I am here for you
So now you've got it all figured out
And you know you've found someone that cares
And if you ever need somebody to help you out
Well you know I will always be there
And if you ever get lost on life's highway
Don't know where to go
There's just one thing that I want you to know
Chorus.I am here for you, always here for you
When you're needin` someone to hold you
Remember I told you
I am here for you,
I am here for you
Quintessentially Politics
Social relations involving authority or power; the study of government of states and other political units; the profession devoted to governing and to political affairs; the opinion you hold with respect to political questions. A google search yields these definitions for ‘politics’. Which one of them holds good for the current political setup, is a question of eternal dilemma.
The symmetric notion of two idealistically opposite parties in our political arena seems to form the basis of the setup that vows accelerate growth of one of the fastest developing nations of the world: growth in terms of economy and growth in terms of social equality.
The political mantra that attracts power in its crude form seems to be “divide and rule” in its own crude form. The gain is on other’s weakness rather on your strengths. It is on classifying others as weak rather than projecting yourself as strong. It is in demeaning other rather than proving your own worth. The very notion of “opposition” has come to its literal terms: simply oppose.
A government utterly ignorant of the country’s sectarian divide (purely in terms of numbers) formulates reservation policies that stand to shape the future of the nation: not only within itself but on the global forum. What we have is this: A Prime Minister, strong enough to hold the pieces together for more than 2 years, does not have conviction. A patriarch, powerful enough to move the Prime Minister himself, acts profoundly wise and keeps away. A minister, on the face of it, reserved on reservation arguably believes in parliamentary system to such an extent that everything is done by the parliament by itself. Somebody ask him, if everything is done automatically by the parliament, what is he there as a minister for? An opposition, stranded without a life-jacket on a sinking boat, can act nothing more than a mere spectator. A divided population, that rarely comes out with its own deep-thought opinion, shouting with nobody to listen. And a nation that cries within but succumbs to the malefic propagandas floated by people in power.
Ask the people who claim to be the messiahs of the backward classes: have they done anything for the backwards personally? A lust for power can drive people to unimaginable heights.
There are two aspects to any problem. First is the problem itself and the second is the solution. The basic problem is the way we perceive the problem. We need to understand the basic fallacies behind all these issues that keep haunting us. The question is “we” and not “they”.
Who votes the government into power? It is “we”. We need to answer some basic questions? How many amongst us go to vote to contribute our bit? If “by” the people does not come then how can “for” find its place. What effect does it have? 30-40% of the general caste votes, and maybe double the same percentage will vote for the OBC’s, SC/STs. Mandal commission placed the OBC figure in India to be 52%, not counting the SC/STs. Now will all the permutation and combinations of politics working around, how the political dynamics will not shift to the weaker sections which are relatively very easy to engage!
Concepts like RDB do not work. The concept is, If I don’t prick you directly, why would you budge.
So what is the solution? Do we think that such implementations will bridge the gap between the two sections of the society? NO. On the contrary it will widen it. Both the sections will hate each other more than ever. I even heard somebody saying that it is time for a Civil War. If the supposedly learned people talk like this, let’s not talk of the deprived ones who have not had the benefit of formal education. I wish the intelligentsia who rule us exercise some of the duties they have been appointed for.
Somebody ask them if they feel deprived because they are OBC or because they are financially weak. The only solution I can see which can bridge the divide is to help the weaker sections, classified on the basis of their economic status and not on the basis of caste, financially. You and I wont feel the bitterness if we were to contribute in terms of money instead of our right we are being deprived of.
The Distance and the Belief
A six letter magnanimous multitude that captures the entirety of itself. That is precisely where we coin it as self-belief. Belief believing that its belief is true!
But who or what conceives it and what or who nurtures it? How many times do we believe what the inner self needs to believe and how many times are we guided downstream: with the flow? How many times does it seem like nothing but an infinite multiplication of unnecessary necessities? And how many times does it spring from conviction?
As we travel our path: path chosen by none but us, a time comes when we can’t help but think about the path we thus traveled. About the destination: most of the times out of sight. And most importantly about the things that now seem beyond the realms of even an out-stretched dream. About what we believed for the path treaded and what we are now forced to believe for the rest of it: believing that something or someone is waiting with the purpose of pushing you up the stream. It demands ultimate strength to push yourself against the virtual space of banal guiding forces.
Do we still close our eyes and realize that our friends are our energy? Or is it just that change is the law of nature and the rest is just history? Doesn’t change need some change? Haven’t we all experienced times when we want to relive those simple moments in life? Everyone these days knows everything. Intelligence sometimes bears so high a regard that that it is rewarded by exemption from the offices of the worthy.
Why does the distance we traveled seem all that worthless? Is it because we believe it to be that or is it because we never had any belief? Too many questions and none seems realistic enough to believe in and seek answers for. But I have always believed that there is a fine line between fishing and standing on the shore like an idiot. So, read the last line and believe it!
Someone sometime told “If you believe in everything you read, better not read”.
Shadows of Perfection
Disclaimer: The ideas expressed are not solely of the author. Any relevance to any person whatsoever is purely coincidental. Please read at your own risk.
One experiences such enigmatic charisma of sights, sounds, smells and even emotions which run wild when everything around is so different from what it generally is. Light, sound, action: the trip began and dwelled into something approaching a melodramatic overwhelming emotional experience.
Twenty seven people, a mini-bus and an unwinding zeal is all it took to shape out what I would describe as a rendezvous with nature and an eternally mesmerizing trip to Talakadu and ShivaSamudram. One does not realize how beautiful a trip was until he comes back and rests his head on his old familiar pillow. As I pen this down and try to relive those moments, I have a sudden and extraordinary flash: something that cannot be experienced (but in person); something that shines as a single vision illuminated by lightening.
After a long wait that started with the driver turning up late, we were finally off: all surrounded by an aura of bubbling emotions. Slowly the head-count reached twenty seven, and then started the party (with Bahamen singing 'Who Let the Dogs Out'). Singing (the vocalists of the day being Rakesh and the branded B S Vodka Rao) and dancing (the ballerina of the day being Sandhya and Badri in bursts of danseur’s skills) to the tune of Vedic Civilization’s stereo system, the party moved on under Surendra’s vigilance at the door. Though everyone took the opportunity to project their skill, the stage was deprived of our still dancers: Rajesh, Megha, Srini, Meghana, Aparna, and Rakshit. Kavitha was pushed but probably the cold undid her. Or maybe the cramps after sharing the seat with Vijay had their say! And the sweet cuckoo sound from Chandra, Preethy and Megha doesn’t even need a mention. Preethy and Chandra saved their invaluable words for some other day. Probably one trip is not enough to hear them all!
Our first halt made Kiruthika go in passive mode. Probably she ate a bit too much while we halted for breakfast, at Kamat, for as much as one hour! With all tanks full again (and with Surendra still standing at the door), the company marched on. A trip without a change in plans! No, never. Some unfortunate accident caused some unfortunate strike which led to our fortunate detour. As luck would have it, we had the opportunity to travel through the picturesque alleys wherein (as I would have it) all had sugarcane (some snatched from trolleys and others stolen from farms!). And finally, jumping in our higgledy-piggledy joyride, we reached what we planned to cover as the first half of our trip. We reached Talakadu.
Five temples and a lake is what were in store. A little guide and Anand the manager (then the translator) led us to our round trip. Temples and their history sunk too deep inside the heart to dig out, so we shall directly go and have our lunch. But before that, how can we forget the eavesdropping of the tennis ball on Asha. It was as if an advertiser would put it “Wherever you go the ball follows”. And how can one ignore Sandhya’s and Rakshit’s excursion on a bullock cart!
Three in the afternoon, that it was, all were raring to jump on anything and everything edible. Puliyodree, curd-rice, namkeen, chips and dry-jamun is what all relished. Vivek’s unquenchable solicitude for other’s cholesterol levels made sure that others were spared of the thought of touching the jamuns. Kalpagam, Vijay and Vipin had a course of lunch time gossip discussing Mr. Porter’s future course of action! There goes Rowling and her job. Apart from that Vipin was seemingly lost: why, only some people know! Kalpagam would be sitting with her eyes wide.
Rejuvenated, everyone seemed ready for action. Srini even said, “I have an animal in me”(hmmm, that was news!). Raja, the artist, was all prepared with his swim-wear. People bought themselves shorts, Vijay chose it. People jumped into the water with the same naughty ball (Vijay took his time). Finally he conquered all and landed inside with the script already written: then the inevitable happened. All that was unheard was a loud screeching noise cocooned by the deafness of the lake.
After half an hour of water-sports we were persuaded out of water. But there was more to it. We saw to it that Ranjith too, who was smiling his sweet smile on the shore, did not miss out on the fun! Four of us caught hold of him and the rest was like “Doabara Mat Poochna”. But alas, Anand who was privy to all that was happening to Ranjith, ran as if the party was in some kind of hose murderous mood. But, there’s always a next time.
We moved on, exploring the infinity of new never ending clusters (to land at ShivaSamudaram and surrender meekly to the shadows of perfection). We rambled to the then unknown, with gladiators fighting out in the arena of Dumb Charades and Ramki holding fort with a music band of his own. Even, the otherwise silent, Loganathan made Tamilians proud of their musical heritage. And there was the last bencher in Shyam (wetting the seat with his wet jeans, you guys think too much!) unable to play out his round of Dumb Cherades. The camera was found lacking in capturing Shyam’s big round smile which threatened to eat us all! Surendra’s eternal wait at the door was finally rewarded. As lady luck would have it, he caught a glimpse of an old pal across some other bus. Journey, like truth, is born and not made. But I guess Surendra made it for himself!
The descent down to the foothills of the waterfalls was not a piece of pastry, nor that of a chocolate! But the girl, the Mon*, never parting with her contagious smile, made sure that everyone got down safely and crossed the onerous path without any hiccups. Ask Vivek about the pains she took to make him cross the frontier (never mind that she did not get Chocolate from her Masterji, never mind the efforts she had to put in to wet Rakshit ‘as he is very tall’, she still did it). For this and much more Deepa deserves a quotation on her. Sandhya, are you listening?
Ramki, with all his josh was the first to touch the oasis of the divine bed. He climbed first and we followed. Words cannot talk and phrases cannot describe the majestic feeling of invincibility when you point your hands to heaven. Nothing but the sound of silence: nothing but you and Him. All rejoiced in the celebration and dwelled in their mystic communion. We delayed, but time didn’t and soon the moon beckoned us to reach out and climb up. Here again the little girl left her mark (as Vivek would appreciate).
And with the head-count back to awesome twenty-seven, we left the place: with everyone’s heart as peaceful and pure as snow. For bachelors, fearing an empty stomach, we decided to have our potluck on the way. Satisfied (not Vipin) and exhausted (specially the ladies!), the caravan started on the last trek of its expedition. But Rakesh had different ideas. He made sure that Deepa did not and could not fall into any dream spiral. But Megha, naaaa. Even Rakesh could not pierce the protective shield of her shawl.
It was back to Bangalore, and the story comes to an end. It was like reading one more page out of the extensive, ornamented Indian book. I close with satisfaction and serenity in my heart. Thanks to you all you wonderful people for an experience that forms a chapter in my life. But please don’t come to my desk to fight out role share in the above chapter!
Chasing your alchemist
A man does best what he revels in; he revels in what he does best. Woolgathering for one's fantasized alchemist never does end. The butchers and the poets, all stand on the same platform in the dream-world. Dream on, and we are all geniuses. Follow the omens and fly to an unknown land: with or without the fear of the unknown. But perhaps hand in hand with that of the known.
Where to start, where to move and finally where to land up: not as easy as literature itself! If just, if at all making decisions that drive your life: sometimes away from you, were all that easy. If just, if at all decisions were not to act as the movers and shakers of future decisions that follow. If just, if at all the fury were not to create a hole: lava exploding within its own fury, always sucking you in.
Dreams: the bait to keep pushing even in the face of failure, just that extra mile. They take you on and beyond, but still never quite there where you dream. Dream: a dewdrop shinning brightly, luring the traveler but fading away as dawn breaks. Dreams: a playman’s bioscope, phantasy through pipage.
Dreams come true? Why would we dream them if they don’t! This assumes that life does not assume a stand to be willfully discriminatory. But does it sometime feel like pushing an already revolving door, or like barricading it. Welcome to the real world. “Reality is a question whose answer relies on individual perspective; the further you get from the past, the more concrete and plausible it seems - but as you approach the present, it inevitably seems more and more incredible”. Ever tried facing it, reality? Good. Petty issues assume grotesque proportions, sometimes. Something they leave a bad taste in your mouth. Sometimes we weave ourselves into countless nameless uncertainties. Sometimes? But do they anytime bear anything more than running away from unrelenting pressures to face an unrelenting despot?
Still chasing your alchemist? Dream on.
