Dreams and Reality - The confluence

I was talking to students when I asked one of them for their goals in life. With all innocence, he stood up and answered," I want to be a game designer." And then, they mocked him, the other students. Then he said,"A dream is always impossible until you achieve it." Whoa!!! We cheered and moved on. But can everything impossible be set as a dream? I want to go to the end of the universe. Yes, it is impossible. Yes, I will achieve it. Yes, it is my dream. Somehow, it does sound foolish. There's a very fine line between a foolish dream and an "ABLI" (Achievable but looks impossible) dream. The feasibility of dreams be ranked on a scale such that 0 to 1 is the grading. A feasibility of 1 would mean the fine line. And above 1, it would mean impossible.

At age 5, I want to be an astronaut, biker, teacher, musician, painter, actor or a president. The feasibility would never cross 1. At age 13, depending on whether you tried or not, all forms of art can generally be ruled out. By 18, the time you choose majors, the feasibility of all other subject-based-professions will be ruled out. Such feasibility is a personal measure and varies from person to person depending on several factors. Everyone of us has a utopia much different from what we are now. I want to see an education system that values learning to survive. A friend wants to see a world where people do not fake. Another wants a world free of all crime, another of all religion. To make that dream come true is tough. You should try it, practice it and preach it. YOU, yes YOU in capitals, should make it work because it is the world YOU want to see. On a collective scale. Whether we do or not, and whether we succeed or not is an entirely different issue. But, to understand that WE are solely responsible for the fulfilment of our dreams is important.

The confluence with reality fails when the feasibility factor crosses 1. It is equally important to convert all your dreams into feasible targets by adjusting them. Just because a pride of lions dreams of world as its territory won't make it feasible. It is at this juncture of dreams and reality that is the ideal case. With an effort efficiency of 90% work, our goals and work load should go up as much as 110% to smooth out the human errors.

It is easy to dream. It is not easy to dream something you can make happen. The solution would be to adapt your dream to reality. It is easy to work towards a dream. It is not easy to work towards a dream without disturbing the dreams of fellows around you, because it will be someone's dream to have a world where dreams would interfere too. That's a vicious circle. The solution would be to think rationally of the effects and work, rather than work and wait for side-effects. After all, not every dream is as easy as demonetisation to fight corruption.

Cheers,
Happy New Year.

Vattsy

A lone birthday

I've been an introvert for three quarters of my life, and the last 6 years were revolutionary in the way I started communicating with people. People are good to talk to, but unlike most others claim, I see that the best moments of life bless you alone. You can only share the happiness when we achieve something, but to know all the pain that you went through as you achieved it, none will know it the way you do, nor will they feel it the way you do. For such love of being alone, and communicating with the inner self, I have chosen the best set of holidays I got, the ones that sandwiched my birthday to ride solo into lands where no one knew me. 

It has been planned more than a month ago, and the waiting pressed me. The wait was because of several reasons. The bike was rotting in my hall since 4 months, the gear I brought for my second first salary needed to be tested, I was longing for rains like a drought-struck. 10th of October, I was to ride into a land called 'Diviseema', the fertile basins of Krishna, where my parents grew around. All through my childhood, the references to these places were innumerable.

Green farmlands and cloudy skies welcoming near the AP-TS borders

It all started on 9th, as I rode down to Vijayawada on the butter smooth NH-65. The drive was eventless until I crossed the borders that were not there when I visited these places 7 years ago. As I stopped to rest and click the picture below, it started drizzling from behind. I'd love to drench on the ride but the luggage my mom asked me to fetch was not so. As it started raining, I could see that a whole new species of insects woke up and swarmed the lands.  Many stuck all across me before I even stopped. I'd felt bad I was killing them but I soon recalled what Gita said "to do what you're made for"

A murder under the broad daylight

There were a crazy group of 8-9 riders riding Truimphs, Harleys and and Benellis. I rode along with them  till the border checkposts where we were all stopped by the police. I noticed that none of them were packed in any gear riding such big machines. I lost interest in making friends and told the police that I wasn't a part of that gang. One of them confirmed saying, "Leave him. His is not a racing bike." I hopped on and got moving. Somewhere deep inside, the teacher was still thriving to teach them what a performance bike and cruiser are.

I rested the whole day, for it was pouring down in Vijayawada. The next day started as every birthday would, with lots of messages and calls. Running ahead of calls and against the procrastinating me, I pulled out quick and was out on the happiness road by 9 in the morning. And happiness was for real. A dry riverbed on one side, I wondered what we were doing by saving waters in the dam when the fertile lands were running dry. I'd never been into irrigation villages before and my shallow knowledge of waters was later disproved. Coconut trees were guarding the paddy fields on the other side. The clean air was not picturesque but it felt so good.

Coconut trees guarding the paddy fields

The rivers of India have been assigned festivals called "Pushkaram". Each river's pushkaram repeats after 12 years and many theists come down to bathe in the river waters in the 12-day slot and pray to Gods. It was River Krishna's turn this year and the government had built many ghats (safe places to bathe in the flowing river). I descended down a couple of ghats to have a look at how the river feels, I would've felt bad if the riverbed felt any different, but here is a road eroded by the violence of the river. Here is a small concrete way laid across the river.

The dry riverbe

The roads went on and paddy fields lined around. Or maybe everywhere. The road was just a big streak of tar in what seemed to be an infinity of paddy fields. For atlas 6 successive hours, I was just riding amongst paddy fields everywhere, and the land is not even known for paddy. How long and slow does the nature produce food? How patient someone waits for that plant to reap? How careless in an urban area do we act while we throw such food out? Well, I asked these questions to myself 2 years ago over a random philosophical discussion and I have changed a lot that day.

Soon, I was at the destination I started for. The place where river Krishna meets the sea. There's  not much fuss around the place. I was on the southern bank and the poles beside belong to the last ghat on the river. The channel accounted for one-third of the river's drainage, but there were no waves on the river bank. The river was deep and slow and flowed calm. The saying "Santh waahate Krishnamayi" came to my mind. Silently flows River Krishna. Though I was unable to photograph, but the river was clearly differentiable by the eye. The lack of waves in the region where the river meets the sea can be seen in the central right of the picture.

Where the river meets the sea

The noon

We can't go to your Motherland baby

It was afternoon and I needed to start my journey back. On the way back, I found routes that were not highways. Mangroves grow where rivers meet the seas and here they are. The way nature adapts itself   is incredible. And here is the mother of all adaptions, plants growing in waters salty enough to cook your favourite gravies. The salt water canals were dug into the lands and local fisheries work on them. 

Fisher's canals, they call it the river

Never-ending mangroves

The narrow roads guarded by trees reminded me of the isle of TT, and I put all the good things I had to test, still being on the safer side for I was new to the equipment. I was so excited with the views, wind and the feel of the ride that I could not stop for more pictures of the best part of the journey. Oh, by the way, I was hungry too. 

Isle of TT feels

I was back on the other side of the river and here are the smallest 'Lanka' villages you'd find around. 'Lanka', meaning an island, are fishing villages commonly seen in the delta regions of South Indian rivers. Unlike most other islands that flood over the low-lying regions in floods and full flow, Krishna river has not drenched these lands in the past despite flowing 50 feet deep all around. Yes, right 50 feet deep.

A lanka village

I am not a person who would want to eat a specific dish for cravings. For all that MANIT had taught me, I am hungry craving for food or I am satisfied. But this, this was different. After 4 months of eating North Indian food, I was finally craving for the South Indian spice. I also wanted it to be as eventless and I bought these 'Mirchi Bajji' for 20 Rupees and it was a happy lunch. There was this enthusiastic dog at the little stall that licked my hand for nothing. I felt ecstatic that moment. The perfect birthday lunch.To add up, I gulped down half a litre of coconut water and pH was balanced. Yes, Coconut water is sold in litres down here costing around 60Rupees/litre. Come, have some coconut.

The birthday lunch

The ride continued forward on roads unknown to Tenali, and then back to Vijayawada. The roads were all well laid, new and maintained, despite not being state Highways, marking good state administration. I talked to farmers on a couple of breaks and they seemed to be happy with the rains this year.

The perfect tourday

Happy place

The next day was Dussehra, a festival celebrating the victory of good over bad and it has been a custom to clean and flower our vehicles. Vehicles back then meant the cattle we rode on, and they would have enjoyed an affable celebration. Now, this practice would be worthless, but I was not in a mood to talk out to my mom. The lands were very fertile, and the sheer number of juicy lemons tied should tell you the story. That lemons were dropping out useless in our backyard everyday, even if we weren't watering the plant.

Look at the lemons

Reminiscent

Some people are lost in the wood, in thoughts of what's bad and what's good, 

ever mindful of their dress and food, ignorant of the purpose for which they stood. 

I pity and lend them a hand, teach them things in a way they understand, 

help them savour their lives bland, to let them ride the life unplanned.

Some humans think as much as I do, and talk and listen like I honestly mean to, 

knowing them to have lived like me too, I reveal myself honest and true. 

We sail the life boat as long as we can, surviving like we belong to the same clan, 

dancing in the same heat on the reality pan, until life pulls us apart with a new plan.

Some I meet have an idea for the universe, to better it or delay its becoming worse, 

from them I learn and pen down my verse, and later into my thought reimburse. 

I churn the lesson and suck out the pulp, and down the bitter truth in a heavy gulp. 

I thank these teachers for curing my yelp, and move on to people whom I could help.

One inspires and learns from my ways, to make this world a deserving place, 

one lives beside me in our maze, trying to clear off the thoughts' haze, 

one teaches me to live in the moment now, and I follow abiding to the unsung vow, 

into my past and future I plough, harvesting lessons and watering them with love.

If not to learn and better at the present, of what good is it to be reminiscent? 

If only to lost times resent, why enjoy the full moon when you miss the crescent?

Meaning

O teacher O teacher! Can you just say,
why atom and earth move the same way?
O teacher O teacher! Tell me I pray,
Is it day after night or night after day?

O my kid O my kid! I've a truth to admit,
one I've learnt from my master named Wit.
O my kid O my kid! I pray you to sit,
listen as I help your dark world be lit.

Don't be caught don't be caught! In the trap of a thought,
don't search for answers that God had not wrought.
Ask me not ask me not! For answers you sought,
for knowing them is same as knowing them not.

Harken harken! To a poem I sing,
a tale of a fox and a bird with one wing.
Harken harken! A lesson I bring,
the echoes of which forever should ring.

Sing with me sing with me, the lesson as a song,
let it be in your mind for decades long.
Sing with me sing with me, the poem ding-dong,
for it might stop you from stepping one wrong.

Round and round, round and round, the nature does go.
Atoms and planets and THE THINGS YOU DON'T KNOW.
Day or night, black or white, does it matter?
They'll go in cycles till earth does shatter.

P.S. : The poem is written freestyle to a meter and tune. All punctuations are intentional to the tune afore mentioned.

Description : At times, we have been running to find the deeper meaning of life, diving into philosophical questions. But, it can be worthless to know answers to a few such questions. Instead, we can devote that time into learning a new lesson and living it, creating an experience. Poetry, for example is opposite to such philosophical brainstorming. While poetry tries to attach complex meanings to simpler things you see, (observing love in roses, life and death in night and day), philosophy tries to get simple answers for complex questions (yes or no to does God exist, does life have a meaning etc.)

For now, I think poetry is more meaningful than philosophy because it helps you live a better life, and savour such life.

Little Poems (4)

Emotionalibra

Some smile at pictures for being there doing that,
some regret that the moments lasted, with eyes shut,
some realize that every end is the beginning of a tale,
some long for endings to be happy with faces pale.

Every moment of life is a coin with two sides,
and in one's minds as a smile or a tear abides,
all memories are veiled by the chaos' valance,
such is a human mind's emotional balance.

Master (Teachers' day special)

I look at an eclipse and think of light,
what colour is black and what white.
I look at a hungry cheetah leap to a deer,
and worry which way would they steer.

To look at an event and grasp it as is,
to feel the ride and not care the grease,

Oh! How I miss seeing the simple blur,
Oh! How I hate being a philosopher!!!

You've always made my viewing range vaster,
thank you for slapping my glasses down, Master.

Darts

I walk, walk, walk, to the edge of the cliff.
I sniff, sniff, sniff, to find a true being.
I ping, ping, ping, and none would reply
I fly, fly, fly, for I love to be high.

I fall, fall, fall, I feel air on my face,
I race, race, race, I feel tear in my eyes,
I rise, rise, rise, into a better time.
I rhyme, rhyme, rhyme, life is short to be sad.

I'm bad, bad, bad, for I murder my heart.
I dart, dart, dart, the question back now.
I love, love, love, the treachery you are.
I mar, mar, mar, and anew thou art.

I part, part, part, a path you know not.
I trot, trot, trot, to one dead alive.
I strive, strive, strive, to resurrect the dead.
I read, read, read, that's what I'm good at.

I sing, ting ding, for I know my right,
I write, write, write, I don't need to be right.

What to do?

Attention : Intended use of Double negatives.

I heard an old man in the park say, "Heavens are where we don't work for pay.
They are a place to sit back and chill, you don't get tired, do what you will.
Nothing to do in an endless time, no need to dance to a ticking chime."
I went back and forth on this thought, and thus is this nothing wrought.

Did your God want you to sit on a stone, and chant his name forever alone?
Did God not want you to farm and hunt, did he give you a mind to be blunt?
Did he want you to sit under one roof, and discuss his tales without moral and proof?
If leaving the worldly activity is his will, who would build the temple who would till?

Very rarely had it been so preached, that God is just a destination to be reached.
The journey is this worldly existence, not mere austerity and penance.
To this rhythm you tap your feet, and like puppets dance to the beat.
In your own way to be a muse, one should eat, grow and reproduce.

Such committed deeds be not just unique, may they be neither bad nor bleak.
Actions good and kind should they blend, and a better tomorrow should you mend.
If your priest did not preach or attest, to do good doing what you do best,
he had failed more than a test, for taking you in circles and calling it West.

To attain God is not to do nothing, neither something that betters nothing.
You have a mind to hear, see and dance, through the noise and mist of universal trance.


I do not know if Lord Krishna has indeed been on Earth to have said it, but the concept is of utmost importance.

"Not by merely abstaining from work can one achieve freedom from reaction, nor by renunciation alone can one attain perfection."

Verse 4, Chapter 3, Bhagavad Gita

.

Mangoes don't matter

A few families till their farm, in a village that knows no harm.

In one such households is born, a baby boy never forlorn. 

The villagers rejoiced at a new man, as was the custom of the clan, 

ripped a mango of its sour skin, and planted the fruit to be his kin.

Time whirled round as the baby grew, the mango leaves danced in the dew. 

The baby walked his first down the wall, the stems stretched desiring to grow tall. 

The boy learnt to play in the backyard, as the fragile mango branches muscled hard.

The boy learnt to swing on a tree, and the tree spread out its arms high and free.

A summer when he was sixteen old, came a soothsayer who hated gold, 

and to him the universe foretold, the youth would die when the days fell cold. 

The priest heard the prophecy alone, and wanted to perform a ritual atone, 

it was the sweet mango tree subject to vice, the human selfishness planned the malice.

If the man was to give his life away, the mangoes would ripen and fall in hay. 

Would he be born again and he grow, the youth on whom none would raise a brow. 

If the tree was to be cut and fell, none thought they would go to hell, 

for they would plant many mango seeds, and atone for their sinful deeds.

The mangoes would still bloom in sun, a few years later as the summers run. 

Had there been a loss of life, who cares when mangoes still eat your knife? 

Why do we not care for a tree to die, unlike a human who might even lie? 

Why is the human's life valued more, had he stepped down from the heavens' shore?

Maybe the coconuts high told the roses below, did you witness these humans' inhuman blow?

Maybe because we can't hear nor ever know, would we become the superior? Oh! Oh!!

The Illusion Of Control

"Dream is not the thing you see in sleep but is that thing that doesn't let you sleep."

When Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam had said so, being a worthy man, I think he couldn't foresee the potential of misunderstanding the statement. Many atheists have denounced God every time they saw that science went a step further. I was one of them. Should I regret for now, I realise that many of these have also forgot the origin of God. The unpredictability of nature, the unconditional nature of life, and the illogical way life happens to people is why we needed hope for Good. Today, when we see dreams as vague abstract impractical 'irrelevant' ideas that cannot be achieved, we are helping them not let us sleep, but only in a pessimistic sense. Whether we are working towards them or not being an entirely different topic, it is important for us to realise that the actions we do may or may not end up being the result we expect. This process isn't a scientific experiment, or even if it be safely assumed to be one, we are the ignorant layman scientists putting up senseless theories to test. All of these senseless theories are based on the heroic "control hypothesis."

The butterfly flaps its wings a thousand miles away and a new tornado is formed. We are firmly adhering to "the butterfly effect" theory and we have turned very reluctant to everything that might not have an effect. Indeed, for if you have forgotten or never known, the butterfly effect theory is a tiny bit of 'the chaos theory'. It might be true partially, indeed by a fraction of the orders of one in a zillionth. There are many other butterflies that flap their wings anyway and the energy dissipates into nothingness. What we forgot is the 'Karma Yoga' of Bhagavad Gita, or any of its siblings from other religions. The ruling that we do best what we are destined to, and that nature (God) will take care of everything that follows.

Living in the past, regretting and rejoicing over events that have been to an end, and living in the future (dreaming as some today call it), planning, preparing and worrying over events that may or may not be, we are forgetting to value correctly the importance of 'now'. I don't think anyone has put the idea of Karma more pleasantly than Master Oogway when he says,"Quit, don't quit, Noodles, don't noodles. You are too concerned about what was and what will be. There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present." To better it, and to assure you that you're not entirely helpless, but have at the disposal of your will, a choice to make the difference or not, he added the importance of belief. Depiction of all the nature's force to drive you, your inability to control it, and the way towards mastery in such a simple episode is really enticing.

Please do not let the illusion of control drive you. Believe that you can do it, and wait for the nature.

Oh dear human

The land has dried up for long months since.

The first rain came making Mother Earth wince.

Is it not a pleasure to feel the drops again?

To spoil your clothes in mud, is it such pain?

Oh dear human, what food is that you eat?

If not made of rice and barley and grains and wheat?

Oh dear human, what cloth is that you wore?

If not of yarn this nature had bore?

Oh dear human, what liquid made your blood? 

If not rain waters that caused the flood?

Oh dear human what home do you call your own? 

If not made of cut wood and withered stone?

Oh dear human, what gave you such power to speak? 

If not the Sun and rain boiling your steak?

Oh dear human, aren't you a cognizant mutation? 

Should I be a priest to help you in this revelation?

The Viral Fever

10 years ago, while returning from school everyday, I used to eat Pani Puri everyday, at a little local chat bhandar as its called. A chat bhandar, one small trolley with four barely inflated wheels, topped by glittery glass fitted into a metal frame that would carry the meagre utensils needed to serve the savoury cuisine in the evenings. The seating would be 2 plastic stools placed on the most rocky uneven surface the vendor could find amongst the damp ground he owned, say conquered? Back then, when my family, a better than middle class family, earned 25,000 INR every month, he used to spare 2,000 everyday. Yes, the place was famous for its tasty dishes, prompt service and was a successful business plan.

On the other side of road was a tea-seller, the chai-wala who used a little metal box all day to make tea for the people around. The chai shop was equally famous with many who worked, mainly the auto-drivers and many private sector door-to-door work employees who would find it relaxing to have a cup of tea and chat for half-an-hour reading free newspapers under the shade of two big trees. As far as I can guess, the profit should have almost been equal to that of the chat wala. Both of these little illegal encroachments of the street made it look lively and chaotic, Indian.

I moved out of the city for higher studies, got into a cool hostel of a good college, went through ragging, lived by alcoholics, and slept every night at 6. Weed and party, mobile cheats and counter strike, were all commonplace. We all know this, right, TVF? Yes, there was one remarkable night when I came across a hilarious TVF originals. A world which represented most of our thoughts, those punchlines that made more sense of the reality, every Q-Tiyapa was more realistic. I loved TVF, like one of those 1.5 million subscribers did. I loved TVF for everything it was, right from super brains from the best colleges getting out-of-routine ways to make a living, to the way they could pour sarcasm and mockery into routine lives, reassuring that we were not alone or unique on this lifestyle. By we, I'm referring to those 50,000 individuals each year in the reputed better colleges of India who I often find rotting in the misconception that, only their college offers such a heavenly life on Earth.

I had worked for 2 more years and finally came back home to see that the chat bhandar had now turned into a real shop, right where the trolley was, with tables and chairs, menu cards and a couple of waiters. That anna who used to wait for me to lift my puri from my saucer, now makes me wait stand behind the counter for the change. Their dishes are more hygienic now, better in quality, more colourful and photogenic now. But only customers as old as me can tell, they don't even taste close to their old ones. They taste as routine as any of 40 chat bhandars, or even worse than a few of them, I could find on my way back from school to home. I visited the place 3 times out of loyalty and friendship, and it ain't appealing anymore. Afterall, it's a place to eat chat that's listed on Zomato.

Yesterday, I noticed the other side of the road was still as busy as in childhood, and the chai shop didn't change. Yes, there sprouted a pan shop beside, owned by the same guy, and now has 4 more long stones by the compound wall of some poor soul. But yeah, the people, they didn't change. They still were salesmen, insurance agents, and auto-drivers. The tea still boiled in aluminium utensils, went round in kettles, was poured into the same grooved glasses and was sipped. Yes, now cigarettes were added. I saw the street grow, more in number, and suffer in its lively chaotic being, being less Indian. I walked down for a cup of tea, and it tasted amazing. Maybe, I should've tried tea instead of Pani puri back when I was 13, I would've not been this fat.

Back at home, I see that TVF has grown up too. Just like I grew out of college into office, their shows did too. They now come with tie-ups, endorsements, and a lot of improvements on the technical front and a bigger group of casting, I dare say better. I am not here to cry about them pulling out a website or asking me to pay money to watch movies that couldn't make it to the big screens. I'm here to say, they are on the verge of losing one element in their shows, that one unique chemical X that marked them as different from many startups (no I'm not even speaking about those stand-up comedy guys, AIB), their Indianness. TVF is soon going to lose its sheen if they fail to deliver at this point. And as a huge honest fan of TVF team, I don't want this to happen. It's so good these guys grew big, became stars and made a name of themselves. But please TVF, be my chaiwala, not my chatwala.

P.S. : Everyone of you here might not be Arunabh Kumar (Is he still alive and part of TVF?) so, yes,   the tang-and-twist-chat and routine-cup-of-tea references are intentional. I know I'm fucking poetic.

Man in the dark

Howling comes a storm and roars, as it breaks down my doors,

The candle behind wavers to stick, before the wind licks down the wick, 

and my place becomes the darkest abyss, nothing to see no one to hiss, 

all I see is black darkness around, rustling and trickling the only sound.

It's been an hour since I sat down, switching between a smile and a frown. 

The ripples of thought settled calm, like treated by a soothing balm, 

The plans and dreams fell asleep, nothing to smile at, nothing to weep, 

I met a person called as me, different from what I used to be.

I see him as an art of many stars, or as an imperfection with many scars. 

Every star or scar really is unique, that gives you such smallest tweak. 

One bad word collapsed a fortress, one good thought called for progress, 

one clear speech had pulled him high, one dear question had killed his shy.

Life's a big fat beautiful book, each word of it is a memorable moment, 

change one word at some nook, you can change what the book meant.

P.S. : I know this is so boring. Just a small realisation, and a futile attempt to keep myself from being influenced from the contemporary reading.

You better say it

Ten minutes past ten PM, my phone was singing non-chalantuously at around 3 to 5 "ti-ding"s per minute as I was chatting with an eighth class friend of mine. Ten years of friendship, the next day was her birthday and my wishes were heart-warming. A smile on my ever-serious face was very obvious given the fact that I had a crush on her nine years ago. My mom quickly got pricked from the mother-in-law soaps she was watching to focus on my texting. She asked me, "who was it?" I answered it as plainly, "Vivek." By the time I put my fears back and opened my phone, she was gone. Half past ten and she would sign off more punctually than I would do at my office, and I hate my office.

Nothing has changed in the past ten years. I still lie to my parents about things as simple as a friend's birthday. I'm used to it. I'm used to the system that sees boy-girl friendships to be out of the box. I'm used to the system that takes my GPA as a measure of my skills. I'm used to the process that determines whether I'll be an engineer or doctor when I grow up. I'm used to daydreaming of how I will try to be an ideal parent by breaking the stereotypes I have been through. I'm trying to say that we know, very precisely, everyone of us knows that we are suppressed, stressed and strained to adapt to these conditions. Most of us succeeded too, becoming the normal average teenagers ( the package includes dreams of being a teen superstar in a future) from the notorious extreme fraternities. Those who could not adapt were seen to be thrown off, outlawed and defamed. They were the bad kids, as people would say.

You cannot deny this fact. I know that most of us manipulate things. I may be a zero on ten, but none of you is a ten on ten either. Exceptions inclusive. I don't know if it had been there in the previous generations, if our parents did the same to their grandparents. I don't care about asking. But I know that everyone of us, whosoever fails in establishing a moderately good communication with parents is going to be stressed. I'm not asking you to go tell your parents that you over drank in the hostel last night, and kicked the shit out of M.Techies last night, but just tell them you had a party. I'm saying I should have started telling them 9 years ago, or anywhere down the line, that it was some girl and not Vivek. Things would have been lot more easier.

I'm a very successful man at life, at least my friends think so, and so does the general society I meet. I'm decently educated, pursue a honoured profession, bring big bags of money home, and treat my juniors amply (if I meet them.) What they don't know is how successful do I consider myself to be. Communication with teenagers is my bread and butter. I've known and seen that the least stressed kids are always those who speak frankly to their parents. After all, that's whom you learnt to speak from. After all, they're those people with whom you'd spend majority of life before marriage. After all, they're the people who would support you when you are broke, or when your bone is broken. After all, they're the people who spent years of theirs into carving you. It's very important that the sculptor knows the sculpture before its finishing touches. 

I don't see myself to be successful because I can't share my heart with them. Nothing I'd do would ever connect to them. I've moved too far. When I'm happy, I'd like to go on drives. My parents think it's a fuel waste. When I'm bored, I play pool over a beer. My parents think... Well, I'm not so mad to tell that to them. When I'm sad, I just need lone walks. My parents think I'm sad and try to ask it out. But, the matter is deeply buried under a million lies. I can't disturb the mire just for one gold wire. I let it go. And the mire deepens.

This vicious cycle has got me, kids. And I know, despite my well-being, that I terribly regret moving out of home, and my inability to share myself to my parents. Most of you still have a chance to open things up, all you need to ready is for four or five tough days at max. Just try saying things out, making friends out of your parents. It is not a movie going on here, that your parents will magically understand your thoughts. They're resistant to every possible change, even your sleep timings. You're flexible, because you're still amateur. Take the initiative, let them know what and how deep do you think. Maybe, just maybe, if you succeed, you'll have 2 more friends in your friend list. But they'll be unlike those 1000 others out there who don't give a fudge about you. They'll be like your mom and dad. Please interact.

Shudh Desi Pyaar

Valentine's week is brought into practice to increase the sales of gift industry. Did anyone say no? A recent Hindu festival came to limelight after the jewellery industry found it a good business. It's not new to make a day special to make some pennies. That is so until it doesn't really affect your life. Now, imagine I market for Kingfisher and I'll ask you to drink beer saying it helps you stay hydrated in the hot summers. Not everyone of you will nod as readily, given that most of us know the ill-effects of alcohol. But what if I bring a new realm of business whose effects on your life are too prolonged to understand? Or interpret? What if I ask you to drink coffee every evening saying it helps you burn fat by increasing metabolism? Well, I'll be confused at this. So, I was speaking about physical processes and it's simple to decide given that Internet can help you with statistics and science. 

Now, imagine I'm playing with a psychological process, something that statistics can't have a take on, something that science is too uneasy to believe in. For example, love. No, not the love for your mom or sibling, not the one for your best friend forever. I'm speaking about love, pyaar, ishq, kaadal, prema between a guy and a girl before they get married. And the fact that, that word is the one I know in so many languages tells you how exaggerated it is. This is a excerpt of how overrated young love in India is.

Well, first of all, is it being overrated? Yes, look at all the movies and songs around you. Look at your playlist. I bet at least half of all of it is about love. Falling in love, being in love, making love, missing your love and so on. Now look at how love plays in your life? I mean, you don't waste around 80% of day around it. If you're on a rescue-op in Kuwait, you wouldn't spend 40 minutes of your 3 hours into thinking and dreaming of love. And even if you do, you won't be imagining yourself and your love in a foreign garden dancing in sync, or cruising in a white Lamborghini in New Delhi past midnight. Does anyone object? The amount of life you spend into love is not as great as portrayed. 

How many love stories end up as a "and they lived on happily ever after?" In movies, I'll say 99%. In real lives? You know the numbers well. The entertainment media is indeed exaggerating love. Making it overrated. Remember your childhood being full of superheroes and Cartoon Network? I bet everyone wanted that magic pencil, or Pikachu. Maybe, you wanted to run like flash or own a bat-mobile? The influence factor remaining same, the issues get a tad bit realistic because now you'll have people in your life.Everything else remains same. You're still being influenced.

I have to describe my personal experience here. I can say that I've not watched more than 50 movies in the past 5 years and I'm clear of the influence cloud. Now I'm scared to watch a movie or tv series because, I'll catch a real strong scent of whatever that media conveys. And because I read regularly, it would not hit my psyche so strongly at once. It's like any other drug addiction. The first tequila after a six month cleanliness will hit stronger than a couple of dry martinis would have when you were in habit. So, the kind of media you follow affects you. And if it's a typical Indian movie, then , my dear friend , you definitely give this feeling more attention than needed.

All comments welcome. To be continued.

I'm trying

I'm trying to put forward a thought, the one which is often not sought,

a thought that'd source the humanity back, which any advancement should not lack, 

that of being the supreme by the minds, right when artificial intelligence unwinds, 

to be the better animals of the nature, never giving up that animal stature.

I'm trying to give an orthodox approach, to how we parent kids, teach and coach, 

because a robot shouldn't be tending your kids, no matter how it sells on the bids, 

for the rate of change of generations, is peaking with a great impatience, 

we will be left powerless by the day, we realize that the technology has played its way.

I'm trying to resist the average orthodox being, while deciding my share in their well being, 

by studying what I feared the most, about the thoughts a child would host, 

for if you don't give parent like your dad, your kids would end up being dumber than you had, 

the advancement would slow down to zero, and you'd end up not being any hero.

I'm trying to work out my means towards our ego, that makes us superior wherever we go, 

in a way that had been there since the start, of which you and I had been a part. 

We may have moved from candles to lasers, but still you'd trust a barber with the razors, 

because we all love our own life, even if you have a commanding mad wife.

I'm trying to say that humans need to live on, and kids of our race are to be born, 

not these automated intelligent man-mades, as the intelligence behind them fades.

Please use science to make life easy, and increase the survival, believing that we are the fittest. Letting our creations, of metal and wood, to take control of us, is something we should detest. Your parents would never like it when you don't have it their way. And when you become wise enough, chances are that they were always right. You'd never want a machine that wouldn't behave as you say. If you'd let your tech-blindness bluff, the future will not be as bright.

Musings

One fine night gliding on the highways in India...

The thundering skies and the golden moon, the nature has bestowed us such a boon,
ain't no golden necklace to be seen, fireflies in the forest we've been.
Guarded by current poles and quizzing trees, hairs flowing in the drizzly breeze,
little plants waving us a goodbye, tiny villages dozing as we pass by.

The black clouds are drifting in the starless night, the black trees are dancing against the light,
the road was damp and smelled of hay, as the universe and I went on our way.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Recently, a kid was explaining me the meaning of "aham brahmasmi" as "I am the infinite reality." The conception sounded paradoxical and inconsistent, given the fact that there are many of us and each of us would have an own infinite realities. That would mean that there is a bigger infinity out there that includes all our little infinities. The wording of "brahma (the infinite, mind you not a infinite)" would stand meaningless and that means that the entire statement would collapse. I always believed that the scriptures were mostly misread or misinterpreted and a little Wikipedia research showed that I was right.

The conception was based on aham (I) not being limited to the person me, but being above all the perceptions of a humanitarian existence. So, to understand that the entire universe is a manifestation of you is to eliminate every possible difference every bacterium and virus, plant and animal, bread and metal, you and I, Earth and moon, sun and Sirius and the entire universe itself. This elimination of differences only comes when you find a common entity that binds up all these. If you look at all these different things in the world, saying that they are different from atomic levels, we can only find something common when we dive deep into religion or physics. That is when we try to understand that all the matter around is just objectification of energy, energy at rest being concentrated over a certain limit.

Understanding that energy is the ultimate reality of this infinite is the truth. The existence of a human being, or for that matter, the race itself is nullified because of its negligible importance. While the statement sounds like a monarch egoist's tagline, it is indeed working the exact opposite. Yeah, energy-mass equivalence holds true. Aham Brahmasmi. 

Farewell

Timid and stammering speech, wasn’t it? Something so normal, wasn’t it? Well, it takes a lot of guts to speak the truth, stark and naked reality. It takes some time to realise the effect of the happening present. That’s why we have reminiscences and regrets, about the past. Remember the day you proposed, or received a proposal? That feeling of love? That’s what I exactly felt. I was expressing my love in the most simple words I could.

It has been a wonderful journey with all you people, and maybe, a surprise farewell speech couldn’t suffice it. Maybe, a few more things to be said. The day I had joined Meccademia, I had no idea about what I was getting into. I had no idea of how deep impressions I could make, or how significant I’m going to be. I never knew the feel of it before. As the time passed by, I had learnt how to teach, more practically. If there is one strength I consider in myself, it is my capability to connect with you, speak (try to) a language which you consider yours. Thanks for teaching me that. Thanks for teaching me how to teach. I’m a good student and you better know how well have I learnt my job.

I had learnt how different atmospheres of students are. I had learnt to adapt myself, and my speech to students. Everyone of you is unique. I had learnt to sleep at 4 and wake up at 8, and still make my most productive days. This would not have been possible without the inspiration called you. A few of you should not have been studying science, a few should have been ‘learning’ science, and a few of you, well, though you don’t realise what you’re doing, you’re doing it well. I had been letting you know all these in person since an year, and if you still want a suggestion or comment, you know me.

I had learnt, in a very precise manner, how parenting affects a child. I had never realised this significance before. Maybe, one reason more I felt I had to be in India is that I had not been around with my parents for 6 years since. I had changed a lot, almost everything from what I had been 6 years ago. I felt the desperate need to connect back with my roots, wherever they are. You were all my experimental subjects, and may be someday down the line, I’ll be helping someone else, in a better way because you shared your stories with me. Don’t be surprised if you meet me someday, maybe as a parents counsellor, somewhere, when you’ve got kids to bring up.

I had learnt physics with a clear mind than you. I too never understood most of the great science back then. I had to mug it up. It just took a lot of practise and considerable observation before the clouds cleared off, and the sun shone bright. So will it happen with everyone of you. Right practise and allocation of ample time towards anything will take you to its own Everest. Some might realise that right now, some a year later, and some, maybe, a decade later. If I had been an appeasing wind, pushing the clouds away, even by the slightest amount, I would be highly delighted to having been there. The process of learning should never end, and till the last correction in calculations in SE-3 today, I had been learning. Thanks for clearing my thermodynamics, fluids and more, every single subject of which I had failed someday in my career. If my college degraded my intellect, it is you people, the handwork you have put into it (all my good students especially) and the dedication you have showed towards the subject, that has revived my love towards physics. So, in case I love physics, the reason is you.

I had understood how significant the people around a person can affect them. Your friends form an integral part of your life. You don’t realise how can a good group around turn a playful you into a hardworking good student, or a bad group around can make a random cheapo flirt out of a hardworking good student. Neither do I. But, I think parents tell you this, very precisely. Listen to them for once, you’ll only understand what big difference can these tiny points make, only after 20 years from now. If they’re telling you that some X is a bad influence, then keep away from X. Simple. It may take you a month or two to come out of that feeling, but it is worth the pain. EVEN IF X IS EQUAL TO A RELATIONSHIP.

I had always been a man of concept and handwork. It doesn’t matter to me what answer you get, as long as your procedure is right. I don’t care about the 99 you get, I’m more worried about the 1 you lost. If you had worked hard enough for 100, there is not a simple complaint I have against you. If may not pay you like an IIT-B, it may not take you into MIT, but, as and when needed, it’ll make you stand high above your peers. And on the contrary, even if you manage an MIT but do not give your best every day, every moment, someday shall come when you’ll collapse like a pack of cards. In Hindu mythology, it is known by a concept called ‘Karma” Know it this way. Whatever you do to the universe, it’ll return to you. Something like our law of conservation. So, do good, and leave. It’ll come back when it needs to. Maybe, like your really surprising farewell. I was so stunned by the way you had planned it. Whoever was the mastermind behind this, a special thanks to you.

I’ll tell you a delight about freedom from people. It’s a dime, the one you feel when your parents go to work and you’re free to turn on your system for fun. It’s a coin, when you’re alone and free and get to hang out with your friends, or maybe your bae. It’s a 100 dollar bill when your parents go on a vacation for a week, and leave you at your bae’s place. It’d be a stack of those bills, the moment you get to your college hostels, like literally, you would be feeling it in your pockets. It’ll be a case of those stacks the first day you pick up a job. You can make a thin bed of that money, and sleep on it, if you wish.

But, not any of it is comparable to this joy I feel, for all the love you had shown. Along human course, we have developed a beautiful understanding of the universe called Mathematics. It gave us, amongst many other revelations, numbers, which helped us to quantify most of the things in our life. We can give a price to everything around today, including human kidneys, eyes and even life. But, just like physics has an end when someone why does the universe exist, the Math also has an end when we ask it to quantify human emotion. May be some gifts are more about the affection they carry than about their prices. May be, some gifts are worthier than most other salaries. May be, a farewell day’s love is more enchanting than a full year handwork you put to deserve it. May be that’s what John Green meant, some infinities are bigger than other infinities.

“I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I'm grateful.”

Making it big

The dream of every child, and 2 parents, and an envy of a thousand more around. Well, there are a million questions when it comes to making it big. Everyone has a different perspective of it. To some, it is about being able to fill their tummy, and to many others, it is about changing the world. There are many names, and people out there who are making it big. You and I know them. You've seen them on the posters of weekly magazines, in newspapers, in social networks with random inspirational quotes by their photographs, and also speaking at TED talks.

There are a few we never knew, who are also making it big. No one knows that they had made it big. Imagine, I have a 12 year old son who's interested in playing cricket. I'm a middle class man and run my life around the office trying to save every penny. I see that the local world around my son claims he is a good player. I would work all day hard and drop him everyday at his nets, give him his nutrition and continuously answer the school for his absence. I would take the risk of making him one in a million. The day he does it, like Sachin Tendulkar or Saina Nehwal did, I made it big. No one needs to acknowledge me for that.

I am also the mentor aka coach of one of these players. I work all day sincerely and go over time to see this one in a million become the one-in-a-million. I've made it big, and I bet that not many know me. Behind this one-in-a-million, there are atleast 10 people who've made it big. The society around you, every person you've ever met, and all the butterflies around you make you what you are. So, don't look at a successful person alone. Look at the ones who were a part of his life. Even yhat freestyle poet by the pavement who's sung inspiration into him for a much needed moment had made it big, all for a coin.

It is very important for us to help create this environment in every step of life. Look at the colleges people thrive to get into, those that print registers for their prestigious alumni. Look at those big companies that every you and I want a job in. Look at those cool families we've always wanted to be a part of. All of them, in common, are environments that help make it big. They change the course of lives, and create different persons from random people being thrown into them. Their reputation, of these institutions, is primarily because they help make it big, and in the course, become big.


Many are making it big, by helping others make it big, through support. Be sure about who is it that makes it big for you. Strive for them. As usual, final decision would be that of nature, God as theists call it, and fate as atheists know her.