Notes From the Corner

Breathe

2011-03-12T02:02:00.000-08:00

It’s been a while since I’ve allowed myself to think. “Allowed?”. Yes, allowed. “But isn’t thinking involuntary?”. It is. A little like breathing in that sense, it goes on unnoticed until you stop and pay attention. Or you decide to just plain stop. To stop breathing, to hold back the air. The same way, you decide to stop thinking, to hold back certain thoughts. But then, like breathing, there’s only so long you can hold back, only so long you can tame the force, before the flood gates burst open with such fierceness it’s almost as if you’re flung out of your own body. A force more literal in the first case, but more overwhelming in the latter. “And what then, once the barrier has given way?”. After a near crippling shock to the body, the survival mechanism kicks in. You breathe. Short, rapid and involuntary at first, then gradually slower, deeper and more deliberate.
Sadly that’s where the similarity between thinking and breathing ends.

The body, better equipped to recover from such anomalies, steadies itself almost immediately, and very soon a familiar rhythm sets. The mind however, takes the hit, the blow of the barrage of suppressed thoughts, much harder. And the real reaction begins only once the water has steadied. “But why?”. Because the mind is notorious for the deathly calm after the storm, when the tempest has passed but the water still hasn’t cleared. It is in those turbid waters that the most connections are made, that you begin the see patterns where earlier there were none. Ironically it’s amidst this murkiness that the most glaring realizations dawn upon you.
And then you let yourself think.
You let yourself see all the things you’d convinced yourself would take care of themselves with time.
You let yourself see all the things you swept under the carpet, you let yourself see all the things you shoved into the closet.
You let yourself see that jigsaw puzzle with the vacant spot, you let yourself see your clenched fist with the missing piece.

There’s something frightening, near sinister about this unexpected and near instantaneous clarity. “Frightening?”. Yes, because it challenges the status quo, because it dares you to take charge, because it hints that you may have been a coward, because it suggests you’re settling for less, because it pulls you out of your comfort zone, because it rocks the boat.
At the same time, there’s also something uplifting about this daunting lucidity. Because it screams that you deserve better, because it makes you see you can rid yourself of that niggling annoyance, because it makes you realize you’re capable of more, because it shows you a stronger you, because it makes you believe in yourself.

The revelations, they can go either way. They can be enlightening (you realize your calling) or devastating (you realize a longstanding faith was completely unfounded); depending on what you’ve been keeping yourself from pondering upon. Neither is bad, neither is better, neither is avoidable, neither is unnecessary. And one way or another it can be one of those turning points, where you either take an action or change a perspective; and it has the potential, should you choose to let it, to define or redefine you.

But that’s the catch. You’re still in control. You’re still the one who makes that choice.
Whether to grab it by the horns or to get another closet to keep it out of sight.
Whether to swim to shore or to hang on to driftwood in the hope that one day it will take you there.
Whether to breathe or to hold it in for the next time.

Me against Myself

2010-10-03T01:25:00.000-07:00

My mind seems to be wired to believe that living twice is how it should be done. And I’m beginning to work up the courage to disagree, wondering if it’s spending half my life anticipating the other half.
What I often find this delinquent doing is, screening a preview of the script before it plays out in real life. Nestled in those Lazy-Boy chairs (complete with the giant tub of popcorn), it indulges in the prospect of what it expects will be pleasurable, and after a short intermission, returns to sit through the anticipation of what might not.

My attempt to understand this desire for a sneak peek led me to realize the reason is fairly obvious and a result of basal instincts. To me it appears to be a little of each of the following:
1. Curiosity
We don’t seem to learn from the proverbial cat. From sticking fingers into electric sockets as children, to trying to figure women as adults (notice I don’t say The Universe or Quantum Physics, because apparently more people, the fairer sex included, believe understanding women ranks higher on the difficulty scale), we always want to learn; and best when by experience. “What happens when I do this” being the mantra that guides us through life. The 5 Ws & 1 H make an appearance in every aspect of our living.
2. Delayed Pleasure
This term I borrow from Dan Gilbert. The human mind has a tendency to increase pleasure by delaying gratification. What that involves is pushing up something we know will feel good, because even thinking about us does wonders to lift the spirit. In an attempt to revel in that state of bliss, we like to think, a lot, about things in the future that make us happy. And if possible, move them up further into the future, just so we can continue to day dream about the tremendous joy that their occurrence will bring us. Twisted, I know, but oh so true.
3. Preparedness
And finally, self preservation. This works very well for the stuff we dread or that we’re uncertain of. We like to think through all the possible ways the events might play out (playing the What If game), just so we won’t be caught off guard. As conventional wisdom goes, “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst”.

However compelling the reasons though, the wayward behavior of this recalcitrant very often proves a little tiresome. And as it turns out doesn’t always have the intended effect. A lot of how you feel about something is determined by the moment you’re supposed to be doing the feeling in. So when you extrapolate, while the mind is thinking of events in the future, the body is very much in the present. Since what you think is heavily biased by what you feel, your version of the future is richly coloured by the present you’re in. As a result, chances are the future you’re conjuring up right now, may turn out to be, and more importantly feel, very little like what you’re imagining.

I realize it isn’t easy to keep something as potent and intractable as the human brain from doing as it pleases. But I also believe that a conscious effort, every now and then, to bring the mind back to the present will afford a little peace of mind, and maybe even return a little of that half a lifetime. Keeping yourself in a spin with things to do is a good start, but a little mental discipline appears to go a long way (a tad difficult, given what you’re trying to reign in is the very thing you’re going to have to use to accomplish that task) to preserving sanity.

Then again, all of this could just be the mind tricking me into believing I might have a say.

PS
No, I wasn’t listening to Jay Sean when the title struck me. Although I do confess to enjoying that album.
PPS
Despite what it might seem like, I have absolutely nothing against my mind. I just wish sometimes, it weren’t so much of a bully.

Why a Size 7 Will Never Work

2010-09-26T04:20:00.000-07:00

Standards are a funny thing aren’t they? Ironically mutable, not quite doing justice to the term. Relativity, as it turns out, spares no one. And standards too, fall prey to the one-size-doesn’t-fit-all phenomenon; differing across people, time, circumstance.

Have you noticed that very often we hold others to standards different from those we have for ourselves? And curiously, there’s no consistency in that even. For example, when someone else succeeds at something, we attribute it to an inherent talent. When it’s us who’s done something to be proud of, very often, we ascribe it to painstaking effort and a generous dose of good fortune. When it’s another who holds a morally debatable position that we don’t agree with, we sit on our pedestal nodding disapprovingly, if not somewhat condescendingly. And yet, when it’s us down there, we convince ourselves it’s circumstance that calls for such an action, ‘means to an end’ taken to be reason enough.

Despite the near rant above, I don’t mean to say we’re all hypocrites who can’t stand up for anything. I’m only trying to make sense of that fork in the road we encounter every so often. On the one hand, taking a firm stand on something, staying true to a certain code you define for yourself; and on the other, adapting and realizing that response to change is the only way to grow, to survive (viruses figured that one out a long time ago). As the saying warns: What you resist persists.

What I struggle to fully understand here is how far do you bend? How tightly do you grip onto, what you thought were your guiding principles? When do those guidelines expire? Do they expire? It certainly seems like they do. Take into consideration a choice you made this month and chances are 2 years ago you wouldn’t so much have looked its way, or worse, you’d have looked it straight in the eyes with narrowed, suspicious glare that could burn a hole through it. The point I’m trying to raise is that we’re constantly changing our opinion of what’s right and what isn’t. A little like a GPS which after a missed turn starts to recalculate, we reevaluate our opinions as we go along, making adjustments based on the experiences we’ve had.

Of course keeping up with change is required, you already knew that, but whatever happened to staying true to your beliefs, to holding your ground in the face of adversity, to not taking the easy way out? The more I think about it, the more I come to believe that just as, and I’ll quote from The Fray for its poetic flavor, “sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same”, the path of least resistance isn’t always the wrong one either. Sometimes what comes easy comes easy for just that reason, because it’s right for that time, for that situation. Sometimes it’s best not to read too much into an easier alternative, not to doubt it just because it found you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the tougher, long winding road, personally I question (an understatement actually, grill, interrogate, beat into submission would be more like it) any good thing that dares come my way, but I’m learning that too good to be true isn’t always true and easy doesn’t always have to be hard.

With that settled, my next thought was: how does one identify these sometimes, when it’s better to risk a change in an outlook than to cling to a principle with dear life. And here’re the two things I’ve figured out for me: having a little more faith in intuition and recognizing that each one is different. You’ve got to learn to let your instinct guide you without a paralyzing fear of mistakes. But more importantly you have to recognize that each situation, each individual, each choice is different and you can’t use the one measure to gauge all.

And then sometimes, you just have to do what you think might not be right, if only to know better.

The 7 in the title is with regard to Indian women. The one shoe size you can never find in a sale. Fortunately, I’m not a 7. Unfortunately, being above average doesn’t count when it comes to footwear, larger sizes are near impossible to come by.

Would you like that in a White or Red Sauce?

2010-09-19T08:19:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel like you know or feel about something with absolute certainty? Are you ever completely and utterly sure of a decision? Are you ever sure enough to take a decision? Do you experience that elusive absolute- unquestionable- nothing’s-gonna-change-my-mind kind of surety? The only thing I know with that kind of certitude is that I hardly ever do.

Perhaps doubting a choice as not being perfect isn’t such a bad thing. Perhaps that is what makes life interesting. (Or perhaps this’s just me justifying a lack of conviction.) That you never really know till you know. I remember reading somewhere that happiness is as much a quotient of routine as it is of change and unpredictability. As much as we like knowing that some things will happen without a doubt, I think we also relish the idea of having to bravely (or so we tell ourselves after we’ve found the light switch) walk into the dark.

But I think we’ve also found a convenient way of dealing with it and since I can’t outdo the guy, I shall quote Tony Robbins: “You like the surprises you want. The ones you don’t you call problems.”. The man has a point doesn’t he? As much comfort as we find in familiarity, we dread always knowing where we’re headed. And while most of us like to be prepared for any eventuality, I think it’s inherent in us to crave, every so often, an element of unpredictability, of risk. Given how seldom we can know how things will turn out, maybe this instinct is simply nature’s way of equipping us to deal with the unknown.

But why is it that we rarely feel we’ve made an optimal choice? As though what we’ve picked isn’t perfect, isn’t what will make us most happy? This’s where the human mind, with its tremendous capacity for imagination, demonstrates once again why it’s boss. And that in recent times we’re often drowning in a sea of options, only adds fuel to the fire that the brain insists on setting ablaze each time we’re faced with a choice. The more alternatives we have to pick from, the easier it is for the mind to imagine one that could’ve been better than what’s been selected. No matter which you close the deal on, the brain will visualize one that is better; with all that’s great in your selection, intact and all that isn’t, fixed. (And you can’t blame the mind, it’s only natural to aim for the superlatives, after all even evolution advocates survival of the fittest.)

As Barry Schwartz points out, with all this choice, “…we end up doing better but feeling worse.” He attributes it to Elevated Expectations. With an excess of available options, it becomes very easy for the mind to construct that ideal blend, which like any form of perfection isn’t quite attainable. As a result, we’re never really content (more so since we make that choice), fantasizing of something that can’t be.

So what can one do to make it out alive? There’s no escaping decisions or options, if anything the future will only bring more (one might notice similarity to a certain biological trait in Rabbits) and contentment we need to get a grip on, now more than ever. My method (I wish I could label it with a As Never Before Seen) would be to: Prioritize, Let Go, Stop What If-ing. List the must-haves – be judicious; let go of the rest – you can never have it all, more importantly you never need it all; don’t second guess – you’d feel as much doubt about the pair of jeans you didn’t pick, had you picked them.

My Fix

2010-06-19T22:13:00.000-07:00

Does Music ever feel like a drug? Are there times in those turbulent monochrome moments (the reds and the grays of moods), that you crave that resounding bass, the rhythmic beats, the angry Rap, the staccato piano, that insane lead, the easy Pop, the feel good Retro, the psychedelic Trance, the romantic Acoustic, the crescendo of a Symphony, the expletive ridden lyrics, the head-banging Metal, the OST’s that take you back to the movie, the aggressive Thrash, the club-by Electronic or just the loudness of any of those?

Does it get your heart pumping, blood rushing, head dizzy, legs aching to pound the ground, leave you out of breath even when you’re just mouthing the lyrics, head moving to the beat with teeth clenched, fists made, in an attempt to contain the energy, eyes shut to keep distractions to a minimum while you immerse yourself in the sound; not knowing what to do with the sudden surge of adrenalin that feels as forceful and yet precarious, as a rising wave in the open sea, just before it’s about to break?

Does it take you to another place, cut you off from everything, drown out all the noise, on the outside and within, the incessant chatter in your own mind; and suddenly you only feel… the sound? Or does it seal out everything external, leaving you with just the empty space in your head to untangle the web of thoughts that feels like stitches slipping off a knitting needle? Does it feel like an invisible protective shield, keeping safe your inner sanctum, giving you just a moment to tidy up the space?

Does it leave you feeling a little cleansed, a little more human, a little more coherent, if only to yourself? Does the release feel invigorating, like you’re ready to take on the world again? Does it unleash in you that form of indignance that is most constructive, motivating you, propelling you, to channel that defiance, to take your best shot?

Is it escape? Is it a deep breath? Is it meditation? Is it white noise? Is it normal? Is it addiction? Is it self-preservation? Is it coping? Is it ritual? Is it remedy? Is it unvalued? Is it unsung? Is it misunderstood? Is it a rescue tube? Is it all that and more?

Being Grown Up - Attempt #1

2010-04-28T20:48:00.000-07:00

I recently had to write for a newsletter, under the Letter from the Lead section. Won't get into details of the title because that's all there to it. And also, it's for an initiative on the side, so nothing worth bragging about (I so do wish there was though).
So I was now faced the challenge of not sounding too big for my boots, yet saying something at least remotely lead-like. Working against a tight deadline (because in a very lead-like manner I had procrastinated till the end), this is what I could come up with.
For anyone who has the time, patience and the interest, do let me know if I sound full of it.
It being any of the following:
• Crap
• Greatness (a girl can hope can't she)
• Potential (this would be the safest bet for anyone I know personally, because either I know where you live or I'll be able to find out :D)
• Just plain it

The importance of two very simple yet powerful words struck me recently: Ask and Tell.
I find they’re words we take for granted a lot of the time. And while I believe this holds good in life away from the office too, I’d like to focus a little more on their impact at work.

To start with my first magic word, Ask, an anonymous quote about sums up what I want to say: The only stupid questions are the ones not asked.
We all want to and we try really hard, but it just isn’t practical that we know everything under the Win 7 hood, leave alone the sun!
And I learn each day that there is no shame in asking the questions no matter how trivial they might seem.
In fact it’s an established fact, each time the person that everyone is rolling their eyes at, asks the oh-so-obvious question, close to a fourth of the audience is going “Oh so that’s how it is!”.
So if you aren’t going to do it for yourself, ask for the other 25% of the guys in the room. :)

That brings me to the second revelation that I’d had, to Tell.
If you think about it, the one thing that keeps us sane is knowledge. Man has a universal fear of the unknown. We’re programmed to find comfort in being in the know.
And the work place isn’t any different. The one thing that truly fuels panic is the lack of information.
If we were to list down the things we spend time on each day, I’m sure for most of us status updates would rank pretty high. And why not, how else would we navigate through a system as complex as the IT.
Wouldn’t it be so much better if you just kept people informed of what you’re doing, did or will do as you go along?
I do agree that one can overdo it with the updates (and you might even get your very own spam folder in others’ inboxes!), but you’ll find that timely updates not only establish your credibility and reliability but also help organize your own to-do items.

It took me a while to discover the importance of these two simple, yet often neglected acts. I hope this saves at least a few of you that trouble. :)

For Want of a Better Phrase

2010-02-14T01:18:00.000-08:00

As I sit wearing my bright red T-shirt (chosen especially to mark the day, so what if it’s standard Marathon issue, which incidentally I didn’t even run that time), I think, what better day to debate the existence of Love at first sight, then on the designated day of Love itself.

First off, I have absolutely nothing against Valentine’s Day. I don’t get why so many people go about on an Anti-Valentine’s Day crusade. The way I see it, it’s all about practicing live and let live. If you don’t want to be at the giving or receiving end of any expression of affection, don’t. But you have no right interfering with those that want to.
Sure, many argue, what’s the point of reserving one day to display your Love for someone, you should be doing it the year round. I ask: what’s the point of celebrating a birth-day in that case, you do live all year.
The objective is purely ceremonial, a tradition, a way to celebrate your Love for another. Absolutely, you should be at it majority of the 365 days; but this one day, you go that extra step and make it a wee bit more apparent. A tad glamorous too if you may.

Now that that’s cleared up, moving on to the mysterious phenomenon of falling head over heels at first glimpse. To attempt to clinically examine that, I think it would best to start with what exactly Love is.
(Please note, in the course of this post any reference to Love is to the interpersonal, romantic variety. Not the universal flavor, nor the impersonal kind. Especially since I can very well understand and relate to instant Love felt towards inanimate objects (think, the numerous times that superb pair of shoes, that exquisite watch, that gorgeous gadget, stole your heart).)

For me (since I believe the definition varies tremendously from individual to individual and I far from fully comprehend it myself), Love for a person is a combination of a multitude of emotions: Respect, Admiration, Need, Want, Concern, Affection and of course a certain amount of Physical Attraction. Along with a little something that I can’t define, which I think you just feel.(If you’re rolling your eyes and going “Oh boy, this sure is objective”, I should warn you, you might want to skip the rest!)
So while I do believe in that certain magical something, I still can’t quite fathom how you can know you Love somebody the first time you see them. I do mean first here. Not when you’ve already heard about them and then you see them. I mean when you have no idea who they are, what they’re like, what they do, where they’re from. The very first time you laid eyes on them. That’s when I’m talking about.
How can that very first glimpse tell you that you respect, admire, need, want them? You don’t know them yet. And that’s where I get stumped when people talk about falling in Love at first look. Infatuation, I can understand, and I wonder if that’s what is mistaken as Love.

Here’s how I think it plays out (the assumption being Guy/Girl refers to same physical being throughout the 10 step process):
1. Guy/girl sees guy/girl
2. Is physically attracted
3. Works up nerve to talk to object of fancy aka guy/girl that caught eye
4. Learns more about guy/girl
5. Finds guy/girl has something in common, or interesting to talk to/be with
6. Continues getting to know guy/girl, along the way participating in combined activities of choice
7. Enjoys spending time and doing things with guy/girl with no motive other than to do so
8. Finds feeling, mentioned in above step, reciprocated in almost full due
9. Claims it was Love at first look
10. The End (added just to make it an even number)

Now here’s my contention. What if at any point following step 4, things don’t work out as smoothly as hypothesized by above 10 step method? You wouldn’t call it Love at first sight then right?
But technically, at first sight means that step 1 should have been all it took. But that can’t really be because you don’t know the person well enough (heck you don’t know them at all) to Love them. At least not in the sense of all the feelings Love encompasses.
Either it should be called "Infatuation at First Sight" (which is sort of redundant anyway) or "Love, the start of which was triggered at First Sight" (extremely cumbersome and not in the least whimsical I agree).
So I think I’ve just uncovered the mystery I sought out to solve, it’s called Love at First Sight, because nothing else sounds as romantic, not to mention is as easy on the tongue!

PS
There’re hoards of (clichéd and otherwise) definitions for Love out there, one of my favourites is by a kid, aged 7:
“When you tell someone something bad about yourself and you're scared they won't Love you anymore. But then you get surprised because not only do they still Love you, they Love you even more.”

Disclaimer
These views are as of the time of this writing. I reserve the right to change them per circumstance. Seeing (quite literally in this case)/feeling is after all reason to believe! (Please no comments on the physics of how this is an illusion!) Though rest assured, I shall attempt a thorough justification should the need arise.

The Auto Rickshaw Diaries

2009-08-27T22:32:00.000-07:00

So, while in a rickshaw crawling at the rate of 5kmph thanks to a nasty traffic jam, sharing the space meant for four with five others, packed in tighter than a tin of sardines, holding down a precariously balanced laptop with palm bases to keep it from doing a Superman impression, listening to Dead Poetic (the only saving grace in this image), is far from your ideal spot to type out reflections on life, that’s exactly what this Friday’s trip back from work saw me doing. I did get a couple of raised eyebrows and amused second glances but even the off chance of being featured on the evening news (It’s not all about you, Hoobastank, running through my head right about now) wasn’t going to keep me from pecking away furiously at the keys.

In case you’re wondering what drove me to this compulsive state or what kind of a nut I would have to be to risk life and limb (exaggerating for dramatic effect, but it is plausible you know, there have been many a recent events of involving overturning rickshaws, which I’m told is because of poor design and overstuffing that results in a high positioned COG (center of gravity). Sounded convincing enough to be true.) to type out this seemingly unremarkable post, allow me to elaborate.

Sitting still for 20min (the time I have to spend in these death traps on an average day when the roads aren’t log jammed) I can just about do, but almost an hour, you might as well bring out the catalogue of torture methods and ask me how I’d want to go. I have to have something to do, absolutely hate sitting still (in case you’re going, Oh me too, hi Ma :D. Though it’s really Dad who’d make us both look like Tibetan monks). Something, anything to keep mind and body occupied, and most of the time it’s pretty frivolous endeavours (to support which I believe I am providing more than sufficient evidence).

Other than the little physical challenge it presented, I must say I rather enjoyed the experience. In fact that was another one of the reasons I whipped out the laptop and attacked the keyboard, I really wanted to see what it felt like and I can safely say it makes you feel all important, kinda a journalist trying to beat the deadline on a record-breaking, career-making scoop.

I must also add a note about my co-passengers who were extremely accommodating, sitting politely while my stuff and I bounced about all over, the extremely tiny (which has me considering a career in those acts wherein guys dressed in fancy outfits fit themselves in unbelievably small spaces), place. But more importantly, what I appreciated most was how my fellow travellers were not peering into the screen, as, much to my dismay and despite claims of being mature adults, I’ve noticed a lot of people attempt to do. It’s one thing if it’s the occasional glance while your sms’ing for example, but I find people very shamelessly keep looking at that tiny glowing LCD display as though peering through a peephole desperate for a glimpse into your life. Our otherwise much appreciated “healthy curiosity”, is slowly mutating into a very unhealthy, and not to mention offensive, attitude of voyeurism (reality TV, micro-blogging all contributing in some little way).

As I sat there, sandwiched between people I didn’t know and probably wouldn’t meet again (or perhaps only on another of these excursions) I began thinking of why we make the acquaintances we do. They say you attract the people that come into your life. But why, you ask? I believe it is to learn from the people you choose to build relationships with. I don’t necessarily mean ground-breaking, life-altering learning, but if you look back at the people that have been part of your life even for the briefest of times, and you photoshop them out, you notice that things and as a result you, would not be as you are today. Now I know that holds good for any event, the Butterfly Effect really, but I really believe it is most apparent with relationships (ephemeral or as eternal as mortality would allow). Because after all, man is a social animal, and human connect is more than just necessary for existence, it’s a catalyst for evolution.

So until I find myself in a pensive mood in another three-wheeled rickety mode of transportation then, happy riding and writing to all fellow experimental kooks!

Hell hath no fury...

2009-06-20T02:19:00.000-07:00

Have you ever woken up to a morning feeling an inexplicable, unwarranted sense of anger? I don’t mean the beat-the-living-daylights-out-of-someone sort of rage (or for those more philanthropic, favouring a more masochistic demonstration of fury, the pull-your-hair-out-by-the-roots variety).
To put in a less poetic form, I don’t mean the kind of anger where you can identify who should be at the receiving end or even why someone should be waiting to hear from you. I mean the anger (I think Indignation is word I’m looking for) that is more defensive, fuelled by a general feeling of being wronged, the one that inspires the me-against-the-world sentiment.
(Just to avoid any confusion regarding the identification of this mysterious emotion, I don’t mean the grumpiness of waking up on the wrong side of the bed either.)

Setting aside the why of such an unpleasant emotion on a bright sunny day, what I want to highlight is the effect of such seemingly misplaced ire. If you are able to keep that feeling in check, meaning to say, not find an easy prey, you’ll notice that you go about your day with increased fervour if you may, finding that you do more and better than you would on a regular day.

If you look at it, it really isn’t a rare phenomenon. It isn’t even limited to just anger. All hostile emotions, frustration, hurt, pain, inspire greater motivation, impel us to do better if only to get back at that feeling. Look around, most great works of art, music or literature come to life when the creator is at his lowest best.
Take Lance Armstrong for example, who really brings to life the point I’m trying to make when he says: ‘Once someone asked me what pleasure I got out of riding my bike for so long. "Pleasure?” I asked. "I don't understand the question. I didn't do it for pleasure. I did it for pain".’

So what exactly is happening here? A negative emotion seems to be yielding positive results, casting doubts on its infamous capabilities. Is something amiss here?
Well, not quite. If you sit down and dissect the occurrence, you see that it’s pretty simple actually, just a variation of survival of the fittest, the strongest. It’s nothing but a case of one emotion overwhelming all the rest. Anger simply bulldozes through the myriad of other feelings you may be having at the time: fear, pain, anxiety, doubt.
You’re probably wondering right about now, why there aren’t any ‘good’ emotions in that list above. Well, if you look closely you’ll see all the negative emotions transform to a level of (drumroll)... Anger.
And that, is the where this universal emotion draws all it’s power from. And by extension, where you can draw power from. Assuming of course you choose to, or you’ll find the emotion drawing its power from you.

Not convinced? Alright, think of the last time you were hurt, didn’t you project some degree of anger at the person or object you identified as being responsible? When you were in pain, didn’t you angrily pick yourself up by the bootstraps just to get back at the pain, show it what you're made of? Didn’t you feel frustrated at the uncertainty you felt in some situation?
So you see, all roads lead to our notorious star of the show.

As for the power of anger, even conventional wisdom has it documented, albeit with a little more emphasis on the impact on the fairer sex (that you really can’t argue with):
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
(Especially for the benefit of visitors that don’t agree with the thoughts in this post. :P Just kidding!)

How To Lose Friends And Alienate People

2009-05-23T22:02:00.000-07:00

Compromise. Scary word isn’t it? It would certainly appear so, given how much we avoid it. That avoidance is as much about being set in one’s ways as it is an attempt to escape bruising of the ego. No one wants to be the one who has to give in, but in every relationship (even the ones with the inanimate, yeah, like your car, when it absolutely refuses to start coz you couldn’t be diligent enough to disconnect the battery when you knew you weren’t going to drive it for over 2 weeks), there’s give and take and every so often you have to cave (and in the case of the above mentioned stationary automobile, you really can’t do much else. You either get right up and get the battery charged or keep it company in inaction.).

If one were to observe the human relationships in today’s times, you’d see no one ever wants to give, not even an inch. We’ve dug our heels in so deep, we don’t even realize it’s quicksand we’re standing in.
Bet you’re thinking, "sure, great line there, but what’s the analogy"? Well, what I mean to say is we’re so busy being adamant (it’s "my way or no way") that we don’t realize the more we resist the deeper we sink. That is to say, the more we attempt to prove a point, the less we even try to have an open mind and perhaps just for a moment actually consider the other party’s proposition.
Why? Coz heaven forbid we could be wrong. But more importantly, someone else sees that.

So where does the silly impracticality of this stubbornness land us?
A place no one wants to be, as Switchfoot puts it: Alone, Unknown, Unheard.
Alright, so maybe that’s a tad too dramatic. But what this rigidity does do is drive people away. Because who can really put up with someone who always refuses to yield. You can’t blame em, coz you’d do the same. In fact you do do the same. And thus, the vicious, unrelenting circle of not relenting.
So, to borrow from Staind, how do you Break the Cycle?
By doing exactly that, breaking the cycle. You find your area of comfort, your safe ground and on that, you accommodate. You might have to step out just a bit in some cases, but soon you’ll be met half way and on that happy medium, you’ll live happily ever after (really wanted to end that sentence with something cheesy. :D).

So, going back to the trusty steed that refused to gallop, the only effort you need to make is to take it out for a ride sometime the middle of the week and what do you know, soon she’s purring like a kitten. :)

PS: I think I’ve infringed enough copyrights in this post to guarantee me more than a just a couple of days in court!

Gradation

2009-05-10T05:59:00.000-07:00

An unusual blend of rock and pop, with a dash of techno... that’s what was running through my mind as Chris Cornell crooned (yet again providing testimony to the marvel that is technology), right into my ear phones.
That got me wondering, what is it with us and classification? We seem to have this inherent, uncontrollable, subconscious urge to want to categorize.
People, food, music, art, emotions... we spare nothing. Heck, we even have categories for the things that don’t fit in any categories! And do we have a lot of terms for them: miscellaneous, fusion, medley, potpourri...

So why are we afflicted with this strong basal instinct to bucket things? Is it just an inherent compulsiveness to group and tie up loose ends or simply a self preservation tactic against the daily deluge of information our senses are assaulted with?
If you think about it, you realize you never really think about it. It’s second nature, like a reflexive response, entirely involuntary. Almost as if the giant mass of gooey stuff between the ears that continues to astound us, were programmed to run the Divide and Conquer approach on everything it encountered, as a defence mechanism.

But categorizing isn’t the issue, no, it’s what keeps us sane. The problem starts when it comes to a particular set of classes, one we know by many names but the most familiar and the one they all come back to: Right vs. Wrong.
Its many derivatives would include the pairs of good-bad, acceptable-inappropriate, correct-incorrect, moral-immoral, and any other synonyms you might find for the same. The names change but the essence is the same: judging on the basis of values, bringing into the process of classification, the dangerous element of human subjectivity. I don’t mean to say that the other classes are perfect, objective or even exhaustive, far from it. They spill into one another all of the time, but here the lines are far more blurred. But more importantly the impact of the classification is of a different kind, it’s no longer only just a tool to help us make order out of chaos, but one that leads us to forming opinions, making choices about people, events or situations.
And that is exactly why I believe we must try to fully respect the fact that the definition of this pair (and the offshoots it brings along) is never going to be the same for two individuals, it would at best, overlap.
The shades of grey have to creep in, black and white just doesn’t quite cut it for this classification. In fact the black and white are intangible, unattainable, un-realizable, hypothetical even and like every other absolute, they’re merely a standard of measurement we use for the rest. The shades, the grey, you see them in not just the way we define the category, but also in how it is interpreted by individuals.

I think that is the key to tolerance, being able to understand and appreciate that everyone is entitled to their own set of values.
Each one is unique, and hence no one is unique. To be less cryptic, we’re all different in the standards we maintain, but the same in doing so.

Of Waste Products and Cooling Devices

2009-04-04T10:21:00.000-07:00

I’ve always had a particular liking of the phrase “shit hits the fan”.
No, not of the perverse kind, just how it manages to get the point across so vividly, absolutely spot on.
Though it does create a rather disturbing mental image, but that I suspect is precisely why it works so well. The measure of the true power of a word would be in its ability to allow you to visualize the idea.
Any word that makes the concept tangible, by means of a picture it paints, a feeling it invokes, that to me is one potent word. And of course the same for a bunch of them put together too. Because in the end, the purpose of words is nothing but to convey an idea, a thought, an emotion.

So, coming back to the visual of something disgusting on a collision course with something with the ability to spread stuff around, it’s a terrible shame that a phrase so graphic (in a most positive sense) has a history so unknown.
My search for it “out there” (aka the Internet, the lazy man’s excuse to not get out on the field and dig), yielded next to nothing. It’s really sad how the origin of this oddly likeable idiom is hardly documented, or even known for that matter.

The few attempts at its probable inception range from a mention in the 1967 edition of Eric Partridge's A Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English as a phrase of Canadian origin (no further details, at least none I could locate) to a not-so-funny joke about a guy in a bar needing to go, and, as the unlucky folks at the bar would have it, ending up going in a hole on the floor upstairs, only to return to an empty bar with the bartender hiding behind the bar and as one would expect, using the phrase.
That’s about all I could find, other than a few more PC versions of the phrase involving (weirdly enough) food replacements: eggs, soup, omelettes etc.

And that is where my search ended rather prematurely and quite unsuccessfully.
I guess it’s one of those things that is forever going to be a mystery, one can only hope that it might have had more pleasant beginnings than the usage implies.
Highly doubt that though. In which case I guess we are better off in the dark. (Yup, classic case of Sour Grapes. :D)

Checkmate

2009-03-26T11:15:00.000-07:00

Travel light. The two words I can absolutely never abide by, not if my life depended on it. To elaborate, I had to make a one day trip out of the city and I had on me all of two (very well stuffed) bags (and the nagging feeling that I was leaving something behind).
Just so I don’t give you the wrong impression, I’m not a fashionista, a fashion victim or a Carrie Bradshaw in the making. No, far from it. Which is what got me wondering about the cause of my leave-nothing-behind affliction, and my investigation led me to another two words: What If.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that the impact of those seemingly innocuous words is beyond just travel bags. I also recognize that it isn’t just me who is subconsciously sorting through the millions of permutations and combinations of potential moves on the chess board of life.
I like making the comparison to a chess match, because of it's uncanny resemblance: the inter-dependency of moves, the endless strategic planning, the ability to only influence and not control what happens around us, the not-immediately-apparent purpose of an event, the little sacrifices along the way that have huge returns, but most of all the fact that try as you may, there are times you just can't predict how the guy across the table is going to move his pieces.

Like in a match, for every situation we are in, a lot of us are mentally taking every route from the fork in the road and deciding what we’ll do when we see that next roadblock there.
Now this is a good thing, being proactive, having a Plan B in place, being prepared for what might come your way, but most of us (though I have certainty only one individual so far :D) don’t realize is that like in the battle of two minds, you can’t cater to every eventuality, you can’t anticipate everything that’ll be thrown your way. You have to give some credit to the big guys up there, you can’t expect to keep second guessing them. I mean, there has to be some reason you’re down here and not rolling the dice (too many game metaphors!) up there with them!

Having highlighted the similarity, what most of us miss out on is that there is one way in which this isn’t like your regular chess match: here everyone’s playing for the same side, yours.
So what you might see as an offensive move from the opposing (for want of a better word) team that causes you to move out of your comfort spot, may very well be exactly where you needed to go to kick that Nasty Knight of the board.

So, I’m coming to learn, sometimes you just have to let go of the controls, because even if you don’t, autopilot’s going to kick in, so you can either fight it and struggle trying to win back the controls, or you can sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.
Easier said than done, I agree, like anything worth doing. But in my experience, the key is to take that first step: start by letting go of that one niggling problem you just can't do anything about. As I ponder on the when parameter of the Let Go philosophy, I'm presented with the impractical simplicity of the phrase when you've done enough. That, I'm afraid you'll have to identify for yourself. (Hey, if I were that smart, you'd be paying to read this! :P)
Anyway, gotta run, there is a certain co-pilot I need to try and steal the controls from! :D

The Fading Pink

2009-03-19T09:03:00.000-07:00

I'm finally ready. Ready to join the legions that have taken to the burgeoning Blogosphere (note the clever alliteration :P), ready to get the presses rolling, ready to share some thoughts on... well... more thoughts.
I bet you vets (who have unfortunately happened to stumble across or have purposefully been directed to this page :D) out there are probably rolling your eyes, looking all too disdainfully at the newbie, wondering how many more of such hopeful novices who think they have latent writing skills, that were all too well hidden till right about now, you'll watch come and go.

Rather cynical start for a first post isn't it? Good. It sets the stage for what I'd like to continue on. If you look around, you'll notice a growing majority, especially the young adults (and fast joining them the pre-adults or post-teens, or whatever is the term of choice nowadays), have this aura of cynicism about them, a veritable cloud of gloom. Now don't get me wrong, I don’t mean that "dark" phase most teens go through revelling in self pity, finding perverse solace in the make believe fact that the world is out to get them. I'm trying to explore just how that very treasured feeling of contentment seems to be rapidly fading from our lives and why we’ve become a society that is so distrustful.

Now here are the few theories I have on why there seems to be an upward trend in this general attitude of skepticism, I leave them unanswered because I’m still trying to sift through them myself:

Evolution: It’s not like folks back in the past were happy as clowns (who as a matter fact, and rather ironically, I find more scary than funny) on dope, sure they had their share of problems, but by and large they were satisfied, happy. Was it because they didn’t know any better? We might be tempted to think so. It's a known fact that smarter people are less happy. Why? Well, think about it, if you knew what all you could have, would you want to settle for less?
We take ourselves too seriously: Are we mistaking maturity for cynicism? Have we started believing that to be wise is to be dismissive of frivolity?
The Irony of Masochism: Nothing conveys this thought as well as an oxymoron: do we enjoy being unhappy? Do we feel guilt in being happy all the time?
Cool Factor: Allure of the Angry Young Man? Are we falling prey to notion that cynicism sets you apart, lends an air of being oh-so-hip?
Trapped: Is it but natural that we adapt to the situation we’re in? Is mankind really going to the dogs? In this age of use-n-throw have we not spared man either? Have we learnt better than to expect anything good?

I, personally, am quite partial to cynicism and it’s more socially acceptable cousin, sarcasm, I like reading between the lines, not taking things at face value, analyzing and reanalyzing things, believing we aren’t doing enough and that there’s always a reason.

Why? I’m not sure. But in a world where everything’s complicated, right from the all encompassing Universe down to a minuscule cell, it’s hard to imagine that words and actions would be so simple as to mean just what they appear to. Then again that’s one man’s opinion, and I’m sure there’ll be plenty who'd say, if you go looking for trouble you’re sure to find it!
I don't mean to imply that every deed is an attempt at subterfuge, merely that there usually is a less obvious, subconscious even, reason, good or bad, for the things we do or say.

Then of course there’s Murphy’s law: If something can go wrong, it will. It has truly stood the test of time, held good in almost every situation and you just can’t argue with the facts!
To close, I borrow from a friend who adds a twist to a famous quote: Plan for the best, expect the worst!

PS : For an interesting read, albeit a rather biased view, on this fascinating phenomenon (for those of you I’ve managed to lure to the other side :P), I would direct you to - The Cynics Sanctuary (don't miss the definition at the top).