The pleasure in pain

Isn’t it ironic. The title I mean.

 

But looking back at my history, it seems that pain is always what ive found pleasure in. its like pain is an aphrodisiac, a stimulant and a well earned smoke at the end of a long and hard day.

All of us have come across people who although (our perception) are in a decent position in life, always look pensive, serious and ready to explode. We sometimes out of sympathy try and talk to them so that they feel better but for some strange reason, it never seems to help.

I heard it from someone that some humans had this ability to bring physical illness upon themselves just by thinking that they were ill. Psychosoma I think it was called.

If, we delve deeper into our own psyche, somewhere, hidden in a dark corner is a masochist hiding. He/ she is waiting to pounce on us at the slightest chance. It may be the sudden remembrance of an old lost friend, an old love, a longing for known faces or any of the innumerable reasons that can trigger pain in a human.

Some of us get drunk, others listen to songs which talk about suffering and a few others do things which to put it mildly, are plain unlawful. just to get away from that feeling. But these things have an inevitable impact of aggravating that very same feeling that we wanted to get rid of in the first place.

The best part is that we know that none of the solutions would work, and yet we always opt for them. Its like a wound which we give ourselves and start crying the moment blood starts spilling out.

In the movie ‘The Matrix: Reloaded’, when the character Neo meets the architect, the architect explains to him how humans always consider pain and misery a part of their lives. He explained how his first  program which was designed to make people believe that they were happy always ended up becoming a disaster, just because people were not ready to accept a life that didn’t make them unhappy once in a while.

And yet, in spite all of these, those of us who pray always ask god to remove the misfortune that has been wrought upon them.  Those of us who don’t,  always remain cautious not to utter a wrong word here and make a wrong move there, lest their life become full of hardships.

 Its time now, for us to think that whether we really need to eliminate pain from our life? Do we really need to feel happy all the time? Isn’t it good that we become sad once in a while, just so that we can get over it and move forward. Is it really worth going that extra mile just to be on the ‘safer side’?

PS: it ain’t about how hard you can hit, but how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward- Rocky Balboa

PPS: things might seem a bit unclear for the uninitiated. For those who know me well, excuse my lack of clarification. But I’m sure you’ve got the point. Haven’t you?  

Change Management

As I now prepare to leave for the place I call home, I can only wonder, if the meaning of the word ‘home’ itself has lost relevance.

Four years I spent in a place, an average joe at Hyderabad would not even recognize. Always, when I told some person who was either a friend of a friend or a friend of my father, that I study in BIT mesra, an incredulous look preceded the question “Do you study at BITS pilani?” and then I would do all the explaining about how BIT and BITS were actually sister colleges (a slightly more palatable lie) and that they were established by two brothers of the same family.

When I joined this college, it was the farthest I had gone from home. A different culture altogether. People speaking a Hindi dialect we had only heard in movies and television. It took me some time to get accustomed to that place. And when I did, it became dearer to me than Hyderabad. Every break, be it the winter or the summer or that of the puja, I used to think of ways and means by which I could come back to Ranchi. And always, since no one else was there, I had to stay back in Hyderabad. This feeling was there beginning the third semester. I used to go home and each time I felt I was becoming more and more distanced to my home. I had no friends save 2-3 school mates with whom I spend most of my time there and are my only contact to that place apart from my parents. Everytime I stepped out of Godavari express at Secunderabad station, it was as if I was back to an alien planet.

Don’t think wrong of me. My parents still reside at that place and (un)fortunately that is the only place on earth I can go to if I am kicked out elsewhere.

This increasing gap became more prominent when I joined this company. After more than three years here. Pune feels more like home than Hyderabad. But still, it is to Hyderabad I always go when I can manage a break.

Of cultural adaptations, I have never found it difficult to intermingle once I was out of my college. Be it my initial days at Pune or my period which was spent at Singur or my coming back to Pune, mixing amongst people was never a problem. But then, may be it was the chameleon in me that has led me to this ‘lost’ identity. I have shape-shifted so much now, that I belong everywhere and I belong no where.

Its as if, to mix with the people, I always kept changing and now there is no part of the original me left to recognize.

What should we hold on to if we are to keep our identities intact? Should we face or do we deserve to face the problems which crop up if we take a stand and stay firm on some grounds. How much of our identity, our culture are we willing to compromise to achieve material success? Who shall ultimately win the war called life, will it be the guy who always intermingled and ultimately was left with no identity or would it be the guy who always was the place where he belonged to? Wherever his endeavours took him, he always managed to carve a niche thanks to his firm stand. Is change good or bad? Change is practical they say and yet oppose it in certain respects. Who decides what can be changed and when can it be done.

Maybe these questions shall remain unanswered forever. Maybe fifty years from now, in the twilight zone of my life, I shall be able to understand the bitter truth. Maybe, I will end up on the wrong side. Maybe, I shall change somewhere in between and maybe, a very little but existent chance, that I end up winning the war though I have lost this battle. 

and then….Atlas Shrugged!!

Dear Ayn didi,

I want to clear this right at the beginning, I love what you write. Nevertheless, here goes…

Imagine a person who joined Rearden Steel or D’Anconia copper as a low level employee. He is a regular, sincere employee, the kind of which  are commonplace in corporations. He knows he isnt great, he knows he cant alter the course of history and neither does he want to. He is just a guy who does not want to be late for work. He wants to put in his best efforts and see his company succeed. He wants to be proud to be an employee of Rearden Metal/ D’Anconia copper. He wants to get back to his wife and kids at the end of the day. He doesn’t mind putting extra hours of work when the job demands it. He is concerned about his performance appraisal, his next promotion and his festival bonus. One day, he wakes up in the morning. He gets ready, has his breakfast, kisses his wife good-bye and leaves for work. When he reaches the factory, he finds that it has been blasted!! Not only the one which he worked in, but the others which belonged to his company. He is now jobless. A few months down the line, he does odd jobs, his family are in a state they did not deserve and then, there is an announcement on radio by a guy called John Galt who tells him “People, your mines and factories had been blasted to nothingness by your owners. They did that so they could satisfy their egos. They did not want to create money for the ‘Collectivists’ and so, they are not sorry for what they have done’

Imagine now, what would go through his mind.

Another story goes somewhat like this.  This guy had been working for 20-25 years as a low level clerk in some PSU bank. He earned about $50k a year. He and his wife were saving to buy a house. One day, he reads about this project called ‘Portland Homes’ which advertises itself as a low cost housing project. He doesn’t know or care which school of art the building followed. He is not interested if the building used baroque or roman style pillars in the foyer. He only knows now that he can buy a house for his family. He books a flat in this project and is promised delivery 6 months later. Just before the inauguration, he learns that the project has been destroyed. He attends the trial in the court and comes to know that a guy who claims to have made the original designs of the project destroyed them because the houses did not look the way he wanted them.

What would he think?

Dear didi, these guys are people like us. We may not be inventors/ scientists/ architects but we are sincere. We do what we are told and we try do it as best as possible. We may not have conceived Rearden metal or generated ideas to make the company as big as it is today. But we know, we contribute to every dollar the company earns. We could have been nothing without D’Anconia’s ideas, but his ideas would not have been implemented if not for us. We may not know much about the railroad business, but we can build roads and rail tracks to the best of our ability. Surely, Ms Taggart could not have laid all the tracks her trains run on or build the coaches by herself. Surely Mr. Roark could not have made all the drawings of the projects himself. He would need people who were draughtsmen and who would make his secondary views. Surely, Mr. D’Anconia could not have mined all that copper by himself. He would need people to run the blast furnaces, keep stock of the copper and ship it.

But, what if our only source of living was snatched away from us because our owners did not want to live in this ‘collectivist’ world. What if, in spite of our best efforts, we are rendered jobless….just because Atlas Shrugged. 

Wake Up Sud!

Sorry for the appalling display of plagiarism…

The title nevertheless has been kept for a reason, it is because watching a movie with a similar sounding name served as the ‘big bang’ for this post….

What is a good life?  This is a question I have often asked myself. I am sure, most of you might have asked this question yourselves to the little remaining piece of junk that is the conscience (or in case of Ayn Rand’s fans..the ego)

Is is doing what you love that constitutes a good life? Is having a perfect partner be it a friend or a lover that makes life good? Is having all the right material benefits such as a house, a flat or a car and the right amount of cash inflow that make life worth living? Or is it the ability to have three square meals a day and a fourth too if time permits that maketh a person happy?

I was in this farewell party of a guy from work today, and we had this small (actually mini) feedback session where he told each one of us present, what he thought was their nature. I as usual was given the feedback that I do not live my life to the fullest. This acted as the final nail in the coffin.

The movie from which this title has been borrowed, showed a filthy rich guy, who had no interest whatsoever in the ceramics (for the lack of a better word) company owned by his dad, his mom was supposed to knock on the door of this guy’s room when she entered. She had to actually invite him to have dinner with herself and the guy’s father and the best of the best was that this guy’s dad promised him a Porsche SUV if his son worked in his company for 3 months which was great since this guy already owned a Honda CR-V.

This guy ends up becoming a photographer for a local magazine and the first salary that he earns, a measly Rs. 15k  is very sentimentally presented to his dad. The logic that we are provided is that this was the true calling of the guy.

Now, imagine a scenario where the guy was actually expected to complete his degree, get a job and feed his family. His parents were poor and could not afford a rented house forget a huge bungalow that the character’s father owned. What would be the scenario then?  Would he still become a photographer when a job he personally disliked offered him a salary of Rs. 40k??

That my friends is reality for you. People who never try and pursue their dream most frequently fall in this category. They can’t do it because..well they can’t  do it. They have their parents and siblings to look after who are looking upto him/ her for their daily bread. To keep his/ her parents alive, this person has to earn. He/ she does not have a choice of careers. They are just living their parents’ dreams.

You can find many such examples, everyday in the tabloids or the TV news channels, there is this story of how a son of a janitor in a government school secured a full scholarship in a medical college, how a daughter of a guy who sold Idlis is the state topper in the engineering exam but cannot join as she does not have enough funds to support her education,

And in the midst of all this, there are the well to do guys who crib about the fact that they are not living a life that they deserve. Have we ever tried to judge what the people who make rags to riches stories actually wanted to do with their lives? Do we ever question the life goals of a person who expressly did what he did just to feed his parents?

Who now has the right to be happy? who is not living his life to the fullest? and who now should wake up??

(Fake) Pride and (Illogical) Prejudice….

This thing was bound to come up.

Considering that I’m in the heartland of the erstwhile Maratha Empire, and for all the constant bickering about the pride and honour of this region as well as the country in general as a precursor to the CWG ( I wont judge if you came to know about this acronym only because of a scandal and not the actual thing)…

Yesterday was India’s Independence Day. A national holiday for all and hence some time off for yourself. It all began very normal and very routine. Me getting up late. Going out for breakfast and on the way, the same old Hindi songs about 'deshbhakti' whose CDs are probably worn out because they are used only twice a year.

As I was having my morning tea, a general habit of observing people led me to deduce this.

Why are we even celebrating I Day? What is so special this day? Does playing these old songs stuck somewhere in your basement (or in your attic if you will) make this day special? Make you realize the true value of independence? Are we a complete Nation yet?

Maharashtrians hate Biharis and UP walas. Delhiites ( a self proclaimed term by all people living in a 200 Km radius around the India gate) hating Biharis,  South Indians hating Delhiites. Bengalis hating Maharashtrians, MP walas hating everyone around them. The North-eastern people not cared about in general and hating everyone else.

Hindus hating Muslims, Muslims hating Christians, Hindus hating Christians, Parsis again not cared about by anyone and leading a sedate life of their own. Sardars made fun of wherever they go. Brahmins hating the Marathas, Marathas hating the Dalits, the Dalits turning to Christianity so that they don’t have to face these vagaries of a Caste Violence. Shias hating Sunnis. Catholics and SDAs hating Protestants.

This is not all. The very people who made us independent are now dependent on the government for a Rs. 500 pension scheme every month for which they have to shell out Rs. 100 as a bribe. In worst cases, even these amounts are not dispensed and the ‘Freedom Fighters’ die a death no better than a street dog’s.  No one knows them, no one cares. His medal and his ‘Freedom Fighter’ I-card is used by his family to buy cheap Rations and Bus passes for the City buses.

And we have politicians claim that the national pride is at stake if the CWG is not held in a manner befitting an event of such stature. Such is the paradox.

People who have had the fortune go on a foreign trip face similar treatment, this time for their nationality. The Australian case is not a one-off thing. It happens everywhere. And yet these people who come back to their homes facing all this ridicule do this to fellow Indians?   Being the first hand victims of racism, these people come back and inflict the same thing on the lesser mortals.

These musings brought a very lopsided grin on my face. And yet just as any other day, I put out my cigarette, paid the Chai wala and left. It was only when I came to my room, a thought occurred that I atleast should let go of the Fake Pride and Illogical Prejudices which I’ve had. And I will try from now on to be a human being first, an Indian next and a Hindu if time permits.

PS- Yes, I too have my prejudices. These, however are mostly directed on my own caste and my own religion. I will probably never completely be able to let go of these, but to try nevertheless is in human nature. 

A Life Less Famous…

Sorry.

The delay can almost fully be attributed to a persistent disease called ‘lethargy’ which (if you know me well) has been a congenital condition with me.

A few days back as I went to the railway station to drop off one of my friends, I noticed a couple on the platform. Both were low income, both not very good to look at (considering the normally acceptable but highly variable tastes). The wife sat in a cross legged position which might be more familiar to Indians and the husband  was lying in her lap, with a towel beneath him so that his clothes wouldn’t be soiled. Amongst all the bustle at the station, this sight gave me a feeling of tranquility, of calm. The wife slowly caressing the husband’s hair and the husband apparently in a deep sleep. I didn’t know them and I think no one else at the station did. But it was like a sweet melody sung in a very low voice amidst this cacophony.

Cut to last Saturday, when I was at Ahmedabad and returning by the 5.30 pm bus. I had this beautiful scenery to look at of the village side. There was nothing but greenery around. Fields where everything from paddy to wheat to potatoes was sown. The village was just like any other. A pan shop at the corner, a bus stop where the state government buses came carrying and dropping off people from different parts of the world and the same filth which is characteristic of any Indian bus station (or a railway station for that matter). I was day (or was it evening?) dreaming instantly (without the help of the hyper electronic device now made famous by ‘Inception’) of my days at my granddad’s (mother’s side).

How people would live simple lives. Wake up early morning at go into the nearby forest to get wood for the house chulha, the train from Goa used to come at 8 am carrying fish which was sold at dirt cheap rates, how a small 4 feet x 4 feet screen sufficed as a movie theater for the entire village.

We living in cities, have become monsters in comparison to this. How desperately we try and crave attention when we go out- either by wearing flashy clothes or laughing out loud at the stupidest of jokes just because a hot chick is standing nearby looking elsewhere. How people as young as 10 participate in reality shows and mouth dialogues I could not even dream of when I was their age just to grab attention. How could talented people judge the voices of these little halflings. How we always want the most cozy, air conditioned and high leg room seat when we get tickets to a movie theatre and even if that’s not enough, people like James Cameron have made the biggest blockbusters by selling ridiculously expensive 3D experiences.

But then, I am reminded of a session which we had when we had freshly joined. The guy said “It is these complications that make life worth living. It is these desires that keep you going for more. It is these wants that you will go any lengths to satisfy. It is this confusion that you should revel in”

Inspite of this, every once in a while, however brief a time, whether it was a passing glance from a moving train or a view from the balcony on a day when there is a light drizzle, I dream of a hand which caresses my hair when I’m asleep, I dream of a day where I could afford a stroll through the forest and the field without worries, I dream of a life less famous.

PS- yeah I know..too many brackets... and also that this might just be another ranting of mine....

Why The Sky Went Too Far….

I was a part of this conversation….a lot of conversations recently coupled with the equally tedious and fruitless task of pondering and came out with this..

There was this lesson in Moral Science I learnt at school. It said that once the sky was very close to the earth. It was so close, people could actually touch it. It was also said in that story, that the sky was the major source of food for the people. People used to break chunks of the sky and eat them and the sky was only pleased seeing that it satisfied these people’s hunger. But soon, people started taking the sky for granted. They said “the sky is infinitely vast, and we are too few. So how does it matter if we waste it” ; and so it began, people started taking bigger chunks of the sky. They ate when they felt like eating..otherwise they just threw it away. The sky now was starting to feel troubled, seeing people whom it fed for so long now taking it for granted.

One day, a small boy, took out a huge chunk of the sky. He just licked it on the surface and then threw the entire remaining portion on the ground. The sky became very angered at this. It thundered and roared and cursed the entire human race that it would go so far that no human could ever touch it again, let alone waste it. It then started moving upwards. Far, far away it went…and till date no human has ever touched the sky again. Needless to say, people died because of the hunger, not only those who wasted the sky but also the few that actually cared and loved the sky.

It has now become fashionable for people to criticize and waste their skies. These skies may be jobs; these may be precious natural resources like water, fuel, food grains all because they can do so. They have taken their skies for granted,

People in my company (and I’m sure, your company too) always say “yaar..is company ka to culture hi kharab hai” or “Is company me to aisa hi hota hai”  or “koi ownership hi nahi leta is company me” or “is company me mere liye kuch nahi rakha hai” or any of the other nothings that people blabber during those ‘intellectual’ discussions.

I think now, what right do you have to say this? Have you ever as an individual taken ownership of your own? Have you ever tried to change the culture of the place you worked? Have you ever, nevermind in however small a way, tried to think that this company was yours too?

I have seen many people come and leave this place during my stay here. People have always contributed, no matter how small an amount to make this a better company. But what about those people who came and they went and did nothing? What about the people who only kept chanting these lines and fleecing the organization by means of allowances or even their not so commensurate salaries?

It is these people who make all the ruckus. It is these people who make this company go farther and think lesser and lesser about its employees. It is these people who spoil the so called ‘culture’.

I remember now, that a guy at a very senior position once commented- “why take /GETs? They only leave. They do nothing all the time and one fine day, they resign”. I used to be flustered whenever I heard this comment. But now, after spending this time, I cannot help but agree. These people have been my seniors, my peers and my juniors and I am ashamed seeing them do these things all in the name of short term financial benefits.

People, if you don’t like it here, you have the freedom to leave. But as long as you’re here, do something. Be a motor, a prime-mover, the engine of however small an activity, however small a function, however ‘unimportant’ a profile. In the end, it is the motors who will rule the world.

PS- there is only one kind of guy whose life is easy, he is called the victim.

PPS- I love this company. This company has given me things, IT guys can only dream of. What I don't like is what some people have done to it today. 

PPPS- Special thanks to a guy who made me feel this way. Whatever good, I shall be from now on, a portion of it will always be attributed to him.