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.