VACATION TIME!!!!!!!!!!
The first family sight-seeing trip in 10 years. We used to holiday every year before that, but since 1994, we've been only visiting grandparents, or small family get-togethers. Hyderabad, 4 days, starting tomorrow night. This time is about the only time all 4 of us will be around together. Unless I defer my admits.( Talk about counting chickens before they hatch... just about mailed those packets out).
Visited a Universities Fair today. The poor representatives were shouting themselves hoarse and trying not to get mad at people who didn't do their homework before shooting out questions. Sample this : " Do you have anything for Electrical Engineering? "( Yes, I have feelings for it, if that'll do.. ). This was the first question I heard as I walked up to the counter. And that was the student's first question as well. We're all given carefully prepared brochures so we can look up the courses offered by the participating Universities and ask more specific questions.
If stupid questions didn't drive the representatives up the wall, their repetition by every mindless batch that passed by, did. Initially most of them were in jovial spirits, and were speaking of Indian Thali and how odd jobs on the campus can get you enough money to get those. One particularly cheerful old man was animatedly discussing the courses they offered, and happened to read out Transport Management. And paused for a second to see the reaction of the crowd. I knew what was on his mind, and I couldn't help agreeing, he read the half smile on my face. Then he said " God knows this city needs more of you guys taking up that course." But slowly most were losing their sense of humour. I have to hand it to them for holding to their enthsiasm each time they saw a new face. They kept their wide smiles even though their eyes gave them away. But I do wish some of them did THEIR homework. They ought to look up statistics and understand the fact that Electrical engg, Comp Sc. Engg and MBA are the most sought after, compared to the newly budding biotechnology or biochemistry, or the non-existant Transport Management. When the crowd gets too specific, they direct you to the website, give you someone's email address. I understand I can't have them looking at my profile independantly, but they really ought to know the typical scores that form thresholds that we can refer to. And they ought to give us more than general information on the NSF funding grants for these branches at least. Or on the current aid scene in these branches. Almost nothing they say, that I haven;'t already looked up on the website.
One more thing that surprised me was that Purdue University was there too. Why WOULD a University such as Purdue need to even advertise itself through such fairs?????? I understand that University of Alaska, Anchorage needs to make itself known ( Not that it worked, even the most ignorant of the students knew that Alaska is kinda off-limits because of its weather.. so the Lady from Alaska was most of the time sitting by herself, drinking water she didn't need to, while others finished a bottle after shouting themselves hoarse, opened another and couldn't even get away for a second to visit the bathroom! Kept shifting on their feet even while talking to just one person. ) But seriously.. Purdue coming to Linden tours Fair...they must be FLOODED with applications as it is. Why ask for more?
Anyways, I'm off to sleep, have to be up early tomorrow to pick up my brother.
:)
Monday, February 21, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
My reasons to blog
Quite often, I understand my piece after I've written it. After the flow's stopped, I take a look, read it fully, or in parts, and then come to know what was in my mind and later, realize why. I'd stopped writing for the last coupla years, for reasons I'd rather not think about. I just never gave the importance it deserves, and slowly it became easier to not write at all. This GRE essay-writing got my writing juices flowing again . It took a 45 minute deadline for me to write about a given topic. And after the essay was over, I proceeded to finish the rest of the test, but the feeling of clogged pores washed clean and the new found feeling of cleanliness remained. This continued with the next few essays that I had to write under similar deadlines. That's when the importance of regular writing dawned on me. It's my breath of fresh air. My 15 minutes of contact with myself. And since I can't store like camels , I gotta take in the fresh air lungful at a time. I am fundamentally against deadlines and restrictions like that, but I have to admit it gets the adrenalin flowing. Left to myself, there's always other important work ( ones with more visible and more instantaneous results) to be done and writing a piece takes a backseat all the time.
Blogging is like my captain's logbook. You cant put it off for later, or you'll lose track. This whole process of " keeping track" has taken precedence over my fundamental apprehensions about being " on-stage". I have spent quite some time in the limelight, but have always hated it. Blogging didn;t happen for months because of this thing of "publishing". But left to myself, every piece I write is scattered in a different word document in a folder, the feeling of continuity vanishes, and the pieces take forever to complete. I keep making changes to them months after I've written it. Because of that, it no longer remains a true reflection of my state of mind when I wrote it first.
Because blogging is an orderly log , I can draw parallels, reminisce and correlate better because of its orderly presentation. It's not the date and time that matters to me, as much as the sequence of my writing. I am not too many posts old, but I've already been able to see patterns repeating. One such pattern is that of perspective. I'm either looking outside or looking inside. Mostly, I correlate outside happenings with my state of mind. But reading my posts, I can at least make out circumstances that cause me to look inside or outside, and my response , and the degree of response to that.
This entire thing is the reason why my blog doesn't have a blog-hits counter, or any other accessories. I'm already bored of unkymoods, though I find it rather cute. Contentwise, since my main aim is to clear the fog in my head through writing, there won't be political discussions on this blog, there won't be reviews of books or music ( though if I feel I've really been affected, I might blog about it - the effect, largely). In fact, there'll be none of the stuff in this blog that I myself find interesting about other blogs that I read. At least not at this stage. However, I am planning to put up a Links and " currently into" Books and Music section, again, for better evaluation of the circumstance. Half an hour a day for blogging is more than enough time for all the introspection I need to do. And it's about as much time as I have. And you don't always have to strike a pose of the thinking (or the blogging) man to get into introspection. It happens even as I hang out the day's wash.
This said, I'd like to post some good news that I got today morning at 6. My cousin's won the State level NTSE scholarship!!! :D I'm gonna loot him today .
Blogging is like my captain's logbook. You cant put it off for later, or you'll lose track. This whole process of " keeping track" has taken precedence over my fundamental apprehensions about being " on-stage". I have spent quite some time in the limelight, but have always hated it. Blogging didn;t happen for months because of this thing of "publishing". But left to myself, every piece I write is scattered in a different word document in a folder, the feeling of continuity vanishes, and the pieces take forever to complete. I keep making changes to them months after I've written it. Because of that, it no longer remains a true reflection of my state of mind when I wrote it first.
Because blogging is an orderly log , I can draw parallels, reminisce and correlate better because of its orderly presentation. It's not the date and time that matters to me, as much as the sequence of my writing. I am not too many posts old, but I've already been able to see patterns repeating. One such pattern is that of perspective. I'm either looking outside or looking inside. Mostly, I correlate outside happenings with my state of mind. But reading my posts, I can at least make out circumstances that cause me to look inside or outside, and my response , and the degree of response to that.
This entire thing is the reason why my blog doesn't have a blog-hits counter, or any other accessories. I'm already bored of unkymoods, though I find it rather cute. Contentwise, since my main aim is to clear the fog in my head through writing, there won't be political discussions on this blog, there won't be reviews of books or music ( though if I feel I've really been affected, I might blog about it - the effect, largely). In fact, there'll be none of the stuff in this blog that I myself find interesting about other blogs that I read. At least not at this stage. However, I am planning to put up a Links and " currently into" Books and Music section, again, for better evaluation of the circumstance. Half an hour a day for blogging is more than enough time for all the introspection I need to do. And it's about as much time as I have. And you don't always have to strike a pose of the thinking (or the blogging) man to get into introspection. It happens even as I hang out the day's wash.
This said, I'd like to post some good news that I got today morning at 6. My cousin's won the State level NTSE scholarship!!! :D I'm gonna loot him today .
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Greener Pastures III
This whole "Greener Pastures" business will continue I guess, for as long as I have choices to make, and for as long as writing remains a good option for me to delve beyond the visible. I'm not sure if the choices I've made so far in life are correct or if they'll take me closer to my intended destination. Heck, I'm almost not sure of my destination either. I just about know where not to go, and while that considerably narrows down my options, there's still a lot to choose from. And knowing where not to go never motivated anyone to achieve great things in life. At least not those who really achieved something. The real reason behind working/hoping for spectacular accomplishments is often,
a burning desire to prove oneself ( while it works, this is rather sad, because the motivation arises from insecurity). This reason immediately implies the presence of others, others to whom the point has to be proved. IMHO, anyone who did something to please others can never derive ultimate happiness from the accomplishment. Because primarily, happiness is derived from the approval one gets, in this case. Personally, this can never be my reason, because my heart is often stronger than my head and my work has to be a primary source of joy for me. Not secondary. The best moments I've had are when there's not a single soul around me , when there's only me and my music in this entire world, not afraid to go wrong, not soliciting approvals, no other thought except the ones in my mind about music. I realise that all is bliss only when the child in me was happily experimenting with all sorts of sounds and techniques and somewhere down the line, after the warm-up, the connection happens and the music starts flowing. All techniques, all methods fall in their places and the child is elated at the music, at perfecting a piece, at creating something. The adult in me is happy at the technical accomplishment, happy seeing the fruits of concentrated labour, and happy at having established a small moment of connection. But the truth is, the person who experienced the connection was the child, not the adult.
The adult only processed the data in real time, it was the child who made the data meaningful unconsciously.While the adult purposefully intended to make it meaningful and to decipher the meaning of the connection, the child was the one who got it. The adult was the one who intended to get it but never got it.
I realise now, that when my prayers turn really strong, it's the child talking. My adult came into being when I started understanding the world around me at a tender age. It was created at a time when my mind was transiting from the childlike " only me and my sandpile" stage to the "me and the sandpile and the beach and the tools I have to make a castle with, and the tools I don't have , and the tools the other kid there has, and the ones he doesnt have, and the sea and the people in the beach and how they behave" stage. Since the concept of God and importance of praying were taught to me before the transition happened, the child before the transition (Child 1) had already made those connections with the higher force . After the transition, the child with a brain now stuffed with information (Child 2)still turned to the pre-transition child when it came to prayers. That's how it's been all these years too. Child 1 knows only what it can do with the sand pile and to pray . Child 2 knows the techniques that others have developed to make a fantastic ,enormous sand castle, it has tried those tools and techniques and enjoyed the results , it slowly learnt how these tools are made, and then how bigger tools have been made. But it never created a tool of its own. It processes data, and quite often, it processes pre-processed information. Child 1 didn't know mugs were used to make pillars for the sand castle, but it saw a half opened coconut and fooling around with it, discovered that it can be used to make a dome for the main palace. But as child 2 slowly became more dominant, child 2 would take better mugs and tools from home and make a sand castle.
Over the years, child 2 became a database, correlating information with ease. Correlating information with other information in the data base or those in the outside world. But it never correlated data that hadn' t already been correlated by someone earlier. That, Child 1 did. Child 2 just applied principles, never discovered them. The complexity of the principles it applied kept increasing, till a stage where the Adult had to take over. In between, anytime child 1 surfaced, child 2 and later the adult discovered something new about analysis, suddenly found more meaning in some of the data they processed. But most of the time, it was just plain ol' data processing and later, pattern recognition going on. The truth is, anytime Child 1 surfaced, it was when the adult forgot about the surroundings for a moment.
Having understood all this only recently, I don't think I want to spend the rest of my life letting my adult take decisions that make it confirm to higher, pre-defined standards. I'm not saying I'm gonna be next big inventer on the horizon, but I know for a fact that I don't intend to suppress Child 1 anymore. I will not spend time letting my adult do the kind of analysing that it's expected to do. Not that I can call the shots here, but I can't let my adult follow the crowd while I wait for Child 1 to swim up to the surface. I still don't know what I'm going to DO about this thought.
a burning desire to prove oneself ( while it works, this is rather sad, because the motivation arises from insecurity). This reason immediately implies the presence of others, others to whom the point has to be proved. IMHO, anyone who did something to please others can never derive ultimate happiness from the accomplishment. Because primarily, happiness is derived from the approval one gets, in this case. Personally, this can never be my reason, because my heart is often stronger than my head and my work has to be a primary source of joy for me. Not secondary. The best moments I've had are when there's not a single soul around me , when there's only me and my music in this entire world, not afraid to go wrong, not soliciting approvals, no other thought except the ones in my mind about music. I realise that all is bliss only when the child in me was happily experimenting with all sorts of sounds and techniques and somewhere down the line, after the warm-up, the connection happens and the music starts flowing. All techniques, all methods fall in their places and the child is elated at the music, at perfecting a piece, at creating something. The adult in me is happy at the technical accomplishment, happy seeing the fruits of concentrated labour, and happy at having established a small moment of connection. But the truth is, the person who experienced the connection was the child, not the adult.
The adult only processed the data in real time, it was the child who made the data meaningful unconsciously.While the adult purposefully intended to make it meaningful and to decipher the meaning of the connection, the child was the one who got it. The adult was the one who intended to get it but never got it.
I realise now, that when my prayers turn really strong, it's the child talking. My adult came into being when I started understanding the world around me at a tender age. It was created at a time when my mind was transiting from the childlike " only me and my sandpile" stage to the "me and the sandpile and the beach and the tools I have to make a castle with, and the tools I don't have , and the tools the other kid there has, and the ones he doesnt have, and the sea and the people in the beach and how they behave" stage. Since the concept of God and importance of praying were taught to me before the transition happened, the child before the transition (Child 1) had already made those connections with the higher force . After the transition, the child with a brain now stuffed with information (Child 2)still turned to the pre-transition child when it came to prayers. That's how it's been all these years too. Child 1 knows only what it can do with the sand pile and to pray . Child 2 knows the techniques that others have developed to make a fantastic ,enormous sand castle, it has tried those tools and techniques and enjoyed the results , it slowly learnt how these tools are made, and then how bigger tools have been made. But it never created a tool of its own. It processes data, and quite often, it processes pre-processed information. Child 1 didn't know mugs were used to make pillars for the sand castle, but it saw a half opened coconut and fooling around with it, discovered that it can be used to make a dome for the main palace. But as child 2 slowly became more dominant, child 2 would take better mugs and tools from home and make a sand castle.
Over the years, child 2 became a database, correlating information with ease. Correlating information with other information in the data base or those in the outside world. But it never correlated data that hadn' t already been correlated by someone earlier. That, Child 1 did. Child 2 just applied principles, never discovered them. The complexity of the principles it applied kept increasing, till a stage where the Adult had to take over. In between, anytime child 1 surfaced, child 2 and later the adult discovered something new about analysis, suddenly found more meaning in some of the data they processed. But most of the time, it was just plain ol' data processing and later, pattern recognition going on. The truth is, anytime Child 1 surfaced, it was when the adult forgot about the surroundings for a moment.
Having understood all this only recently, I don't think I want to spend the rest of my life letting my adult take decisions that make it confirm to higher, pre-defined standards. I'm not saying I'm gonna be next big inventer on the horizon, but I know for a fact that I don't intend to suppress Child 1 anymore. I will not spend time letting my adult do the kind of analysing that it's expected to do. Not that I can call the shots here, but I can't let my adult follow the crowd while I wait for Child 1 to swim up to the surface. I still don't know what I'm going to DO about this thought.
Heady, hectic day.
There was a housewarming ceremony today. The entire lot had turned up, all relatives, near and far, all children, all grandparents. Good to hear so much noise after so long. The buzz, the hectic activity, the loud fulfilling chants, the sights and sounds and smells of a pooja, the groups scurrying around getting something done, attending to minor arrangements, little kids eager to carry flowers, or anything you give them and race to the destination, the cheek pulling, the catching up, the building bridges, the decorative arrangements, the FOOD(!!!), the footwear spread all around the sit-out, the gifts, the smell of camphor,the constant chatter, the pair of 4 year old twins( girls) that turned up looking unbelievably cute, another pair of twins ( boys) coming up a little later and the looks exchanged by all the 4 year olds, the grandpas and grandmas finding their love in those kids, the bantering, the fun, the singing along for no reason, the morning tiffin, the half cup coffee, the extra chiroti that the kids flicked.....till the final goodbyes towards evening. Till the sinking in of the fact that it takes a family occasion to meet up.
Sigh, so senti.
But also to be seen are decision taking skills, multitasking capabilities, overall control of the arrangements, foresight, planning, creativity, error correction, the gamut.
Sigh, so senti.
But also to be seen are decision taking skills, multitasking capabilities, overall control of the arrangements, foresight, planning, creativity, error correction, the gamut.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
chirp chirp chirp
My little 8 year old cousin from Chennai has come over home for the weekend. There's a house warming ceremony in the family. This little one goes chirp chirp chirp, has a keen eye for art, paints like a pro, knows 4 languages, talks like an adult. Probably because she's the only child and almost always has adults for company. Her favourite company is that of yours truly. We sit and "talk" for long hours.
This girl's fast becoming a touch-me-not kinda lady. Her parents are paranoid about her health, and she's far from the tomboy that I was at her age. The last frilly frock I had was when I was too small to wear my clothes myself. My mom had to struggle to get me to wear girly dresses at least on occasions. This girl almost always has nailpolish on, most of her dresses are the frilly types, her footwear is clearly the delicate types. A pretty sight to see, but I dread to think of her state of mind when she wears clothes like that.Now's not the time to feel pretty. Now's the time to feel smart. So much attention to outward appearance at THAT age? This girl doesnt have a pair of sports shoes other than the compulsory white canvas shoes for Fridays at school. Her intellect is good, vocabulary even better, and sense of alertness is better than that of both her parents combined. Loves to read books, understands what I tell her about being with friends and how to behave and why. I love those wide open eyes, waiting to take in every little detail.
I told her a thing or two about her overgrown, painted, filed, shaped nails. At 23, I still have never had long nails, and the last time I put nail polish was for a school play. I used a sketch pen for that. The little lady was so taken by the concept of neat and elegant as opposed to showy and garish, that she asked me to teach her to cut her own nails so she could do them herself. Which I did for the next half hour. I love her open mind, always looking for something new to take in.
Wish some adults I knew were like that. At least open enough to take a hint, if not a whole new concept. This girl has High Thinking, all she needs to learn about is Simple Living. She goes to one of the best schools in the city. She has to fight household influences that will surround her and make "looking pretty" an important part of her personality. A child's attention is too precious to be diverted to that. Presentability, is another issue of course, but children are pretty enough without those extra efforts that go into making them look pretty.
Lunch time, gotta go have lunch with the little sparrow :D
I distributed my enormous Tinkle collection to my many younger cousins. This lady has almost nothing left. Gotta go recover the books for this little birdie.
This girl's fast becoming a touch-me-not kinda lady. Her parents are paranoid about her health, and she's far from the tomboy that I was at her age. The last frilly frock I had was when I was too small to wear my clothes myself. My mom had to struggle to get me to wear girly dresses at least on occasions. This girl almost always has nailpolish on, most of her dresses are the frilly types, her footwear is clearly the delicate types. A pretty sight to see, but I dread to think of her state of mind when she wears clothes like that.Now's not the time to feel pretty. Now's the time to feel smart. So much attention to outward appearance at THAT age? This girl doesnt have a pair of sports shoes other than the compulsory white canvas shoes for Fridays at school. Her intellect is good, vocabulary even better, and sense of alertness is better than that of both her parents combined. Loves to read books, understands what I tell her about being with friends and how to behave and why. I love those wide open eyes, waiting to take in every little detail.
I told her a thing or two about her overgrown, painted, filed, shaped nails. At 23, I still have never had long nails, and the last time I put nail polish was for a school play. I used a sketch pen for that. The little lady was so taken by the concept of neat and elegant as opposed to showy and garish, that she asked me to teach her to cut her own nails so she could do them herself. Which I did for the next half hour. I love her open mind, always looking for something new to take in.
Wish some adults I knew were like that. At least open enough to take a hint, if not a whole new concept. This girl has High Thinking, all she needs to learn about is Simple Living. She goes to one of the best schools in the city. She has to fight household influences that will surround her and make "looking pretty" an important part of her personality. A child's attention is too precious to be diverted to that. Presentability, is another issue of course, but children are pretty enough without those extra efforts that go into making them look pretty.
Lunch time, gotta go have lunch with the little sparrow :D
I distributed my enormous Tinkle collection to my many younger cousins. This lady has almost nothing left. Gotta go recover the books for this little birdie.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Serious reconsideration here.
I really gave up today. After the worst was through that is. The day started with some plans already going haywire. But finished a final round of checking up each packet. That final round kept happening the rest of the day, at recurring intervals. No point listing out all the things that went wrong. But the day ended with me and my brother wanting to strangle the DHL fellow.
Honest, the man needs to be shaken by the shoulders before he drives someone else insane. Lucky we had each other for comfort. We'd taken 3.5k with us, after having confirmed rates on the phone. 2.5k would be more than enough, if I had to take Mr. Dumb Representative's word for it. But being ultra cautious ( I shud have more faith in my bad luck than my good luck, going by recent trends) ,we dropped in to my dad's office to pick up the extra 1k. Just in case. We reach the place after wading through hellish traffic ( ok.. biking through.... you can wade through faster..) and Mr. Don't Know My Job says " this would cost you 4954 ". Before our jaws dropped , we managed to ask him whether he was the one who'd told us abt the Rs. 2500 bit on the phone. He affirmed with a smile, and said that was for 500g, this weighs 2kg. He was actually giving us a discount on it. Sweet, huh? I wanted to ask him if he hadn't heard me mention 2kg on the phone earlier.. but I didnt want to pick a fight with someone who didnt even have the grace to feel apologetic, let alone express it. We told him we'd got only 3600 with us. And that we'd have to come back tomorrow. This at 5:45 in the evening, and DHL closes by 6:30. We couldnt imagine coming through that traffic again..but my eyes lit up when I remembered that my aunt works around there. Made a few phone calls, got her number, called her up, she said her bank's ATM is closeby and that she'll keep the money ready. DHL is 2 Mins by bike to her place. It took us 10 mins to reach her office, after crossing 4 signals, at about as much breakneck speed as Dharam Singh can possibly sprint at. Aunt's account doesn't have balance, she recently drew most of the money. She gets a card from her colleague and we go half jogging to the ATM, draw money, bid goodbyes and thank you's and it's already 6:15. We rush to DHL at BREAKNECK speed ( we touched 30kmph ok? At peak traffic hours. on MG Road. Lets see Narain Karthikeyan do that) . And reached the place just when they were about to turn off the comp for the day. We ask him the total amount, the man says, 2954. I almost pinched myself. I look at my brother and he was as much in disbelief as I was. We made the DHL guy repeat the rate some 5 times, till the manager asked us what the problem is. The manager was as thick as a brick ( Yea.. Tull..) and needed to get a life too. We figured it was best to pay and come out while we're still young. But the dumb assistant, the root of all this anguish, NEVER accepted his part at all. I had to pull my brother away from there, after he asked the same question for the 4th time patiently. And got the same dumb reply. " I told you, you only misunderstood sir..".
Brother : " Didn't we tell you we had only 3600 with us? Why did you still say 5000 then?"
The birdbrain: " I thought you had only 1600 sir"
Brother: From where did the 5000 come in at all?
The .... Nevermind.. : Sir I told you, I thought you have 1600".
Didn't he see me gesture "3" with my hand??? Damn right he did. His nose was 10 inches away from my hand. Does he think we can't lip-read between 4 and 2 when he tells us the amount???? "four" thousand 9 hundred odd the first time and "two" thousand 9 hundred something after we get the money? And forget the first amount on the phone.
We paid him, didn't even raise our voice, or even speak strongly in those last 10 minutes. And took home all the extra money we'd gathered. Was it me? Or has anyone else in contact with that guy felt like they were speaking to a bean bag? At least a bean bag does't give out random numbers and make you run around trying to get that much money after you take its word for it. Or is the man new at the job and hence no one's complained about him yet? Why do we come back with a heavy heart despite having done our best at any minute? I donno if I care about him or his kinds. I can't find a reason for him to be so foolish, or so incompetent about the price list. Or so unapologetic. Or so unconvicing. But I care about all the gloom that the end of such a day brings with it. I care about the fact that putting in all my efforts is just a small thing. It doesn't always balance the equation. But not doing that would certainly cause imbalance. Just don't count on it at all. Do my bit and leave the rest of the transaction to work out on its own. And to let the transaction bring with it whatever it is meant to. I care for the fact that the more I think of how such impossible situations happen to me, the more it seems evident that we're all being acted upon. ( this includes the DHL guy) .And If I choose to brood over the irritation, then I'll have to live by that choice. I've got better choices than that, but those nicer attitudes come as an afterthought. AFTER the initial heavy-heartedness has subsided. Why do some encounters bring out so much mental fatigue? I really gave up today.
Like they say, Night is the blotting paper of many sorrows. Gnight.
Honest, the man needs to be shaken by the shoulders before he drives someone else insane. Lucky we had each other for comfort. We'd taken 3.5k with us, after having confirmed rates on the phone. 2.5k would be more than enough, if I had to take Mr. Dumb Representative's word for it. But being ultra cautious ( I shud have more faith in my bad luck than my good luck, going by recent trends) ,we dropped in to my dad's office to pick up the extra 1k. Just in case. We reach the place after wading through hellish traffic ( ok.. biking through.... you can wade through faster..) and Mr. Don't Know My Job says " this would cost you 4954 ". Before our jaws dropped , we managed to ask him whether he was the one who'd told us abt the Rs. 2500 bit on the phone. He affirmed with a smile, and said that was for 500g, this weighs 2kg. He was actually giving us a discount on it. Sweet, huh? I wanted to ask him if he hadn't heard me mention 2kg on the phone earlier.. but I didnt want to pick a fight with someone who didnt even have the grace to feel apologetic, let alone express it. We told him we'd got only 3600 with us. And that we'd have to come back tomorrow. This at 5:45 in the evening, and DHL closes by 6:30. We couldnt imagine coming through that traffic again..but my eyes lit up when I remembered that my aunt works around there. Made a few phone calls, got her number, called her up, she said her bank's ATM is closeby and that she'll keep the money ready. DHL is 2 Mins by bike to her place. It took us 10 mins to reach her office, after crossing 4 signals, at about as much breakneck speed as Dharam Singh can possibly sprint at. Aunt's account doesn't have balance, she recently drew most of the money. She gets a card from her colleague and we go half jogging to the ATM, draw money, bid goodbyes and thank you's and it's already 6:15. We rush to DHL at BREAKNECK speed ( we touched 30kmph ok? At peak traffic hours. on MG Road. Lets see Narain Karthikeyan do that) . And reached the place just when they were about to turn off the comp for the day. We ask him the total amount, the man says, 2954. I almost pinched myself. I look at my brother and he was as much in disbelief as I was. We made the DHL guy repeat the rate some 5 times, till the manager asked us what the problem is. The manager was as thick as a brick ( Yea.. Tull..) and needed to get a life too. We figured it was best to pay and come out while we're still young. But the dumb assistant, the root of all this anguish, NEVER accepted his part at all. I had to pull my brother away from there, after he asked the same question for the 4th time patiently. And got the same dumb reply. " I told you, you only misunderstood sir..".
Brother : " Didn't we tell you we had only 3600 with us? Why did you still say 5000 then?"
The birdbrain: " I thought you had only 1600 sir"
Brother: From where did the 5000 come in at all?
The .... Nevermind.. : Sir I told you, I thought you have 1600".
Didn't he see me gesture "3" with my hand??? Damn right he did. His nose was 10 inches away from my hand. Does he think we can't lip-read between 4 and 2 when he tells us the amount???? "four" thousand 9 hundred odd the first time and "two" thousand 9 hundred something after we get the money? And forget the first amount on the phone.
We paid him, didn't even raise our voice, or even speak strongly in those last 10 minutes. And took home all the extra money we'd gathered. Was it me? Or has anyone else in contact with that guy felt like they were speaking to a bean bag? At least a bean bag does't give out random numbers and make you run around trying to get that much money after you take its word for it. Or is the man new at the job and hence no one's complained about him yet? Why do we come back with a heavy heart despite having done our best at any minute? I donno if I care about him or his kinds. I can't find a reason for him to be so foolish, or so incompetent about the price list. Or so unapologetic. Or so unconvicing. But I care about all the gloom that the end of such a day brings with it. I care about the fact that putting in all my efforts is just a small thing. It doesn't always balance the equation. But not doing that would certainly cause imbalance. Just don't count on it at all. Do my bit and leave the rest of the transaction to work out on its own. And to let the transaction bring with it whatever it is meant to. I care for the fact that the more I think of how such impossible situations happen to me, the more it seems evident that we're all being acted upon. ( this includes the DHL guy) .And If I choose to brood over the irritation, then I'll have to live by that choice. I've got better choices than that, but those nicer attitudes come as an afterthought. AFTER the initial heavy-heartedness has subsided. Why do some encounters bring out so much mental fatigue? I really gave up today.
Like they say, Night is the blotting paper of many sorrows. Gnight.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
All the powers that be
One of those days when I'm left wondering whether I'm incredibly lucky or up against unbelievable odds. One of those days when you can't quite figure out whether the current is with you or whether you're trying to swim upstream. Or whether the whole stream just suddenly changed direction. The co-incidences are too many to ignore. Too uncanny to nonchalantly decide that it's all my doing and there's no divine hand helping me or pulling me down. (I believe most of the times, you shouldn't crib when you encounter a deep ditch in your path that you can't cross. Many a times, that's providence telling you there's a steep cliff right behind that. Just that you need to get over the anguish of the moment and see things in broad daylight later. All answers reveal themselves, but in their own time.)
For now, I'm figuring out whether I should thank God for making me see this bungle that could've cost me a potential admit that I've spent a lot of time working towards, or whether I should curse my fate for making such bungles happen in the first place. I'd gone to my college some 2 months back to get recommendation letters from my professors. Total mood change and all that. Set cog wheels in motion again in my head. This time when I went, the difference was my state of mind. I went in the happy state that one is in after one just solves a crossword. In my case, over the last few months, a lot of my questions within me were getting answered and this I suspect has a lot to do with the meditation that I've resumed. The results always surprise you when you're not expecting them.
Kinda like how children get excited when the sand castle finally takes shape. Not that they were specifically looking towards getting excited. They never do anything with the sole purpose of recieving happiness from it, in fact,of getting ANYTHING from it. They were building a sand castle because there was sand, there was bucket, there was flag and the deep blue sea. And sand castle was what came to their mind. Not the happiness that comes from getting some work accomplished.Their tiny minds associated a sand castle with the setting, not the feeling of victory that one gets after it's created. At least not at the outset. The thrill of accomplishment may make them do it again, but it was never the primary cause. Which is why, when the sand castle is finally done, the excitement on their faces is something that no result-seeking adult can hope to achieve.
True, work done well can make me happy, but I already know that. So by the time it's done, and in fact, even while I'm doing it, I am already expecting to feel happy at the end. That kills most of the possible happiness right away. The only happiness left then, is that this work is over with and behind my back now, so I can move on to the next thing waiting for my attention. Here's where the concept of karma yoga makes profound sense to me. Any work done simply because it's your duty to do it ( and it's your duty to do your duty well !) will naturally turn out to be close to perfection. While it lasts,every minute of it, you think of the work. This wisdom is thousands of years old. Pretty much forms the backbone of the Indian civilization. Once you decide where your duties lie, the consequences are not yours to seek. Children study well because they're supposed to do to it. Parents on their part provide a peaceful loving atmosphere at home for children because it's their duty to do so at that stage of life. Children look up to their parents and later save money to take care of them in their old age because parents took such good care of them when they were helpless impressionable toddlers and confused teens. It's duty for the sake of doing it. Parents had no tags attached about being taken care of in their old age. That love comes naturally to a child when he grows up and sees how selflessly his parents brought him up. At that instant, parents don't even have to ask to be taken care of. Duty done well and for the right reasons, makes it happen.
This new-age result oriented management mantra really gets to me sometimes. Results are bound to be good if all your attention was on the job, not on the result of it. Simple. Thanks to the penetration of such success-is-the-destination-and-not-the-journey oriented management concepts in the Indian mindset, we now have almost all of Bangalore looking at the higher rung even before their foot is firm on the first one. Heck, most of them haven't even chosen the very ladders they're climbing. Any kinda ladder the herd climbs, they climb. Any ladder that looks a little different and the herd avoids, they avoid. Oh.. nevermind.. no point..
Well, actually, the point is (getting back to "duty for the sake of it" ),that since I was meditating only because it's such a beautiful state to be in, I figure that nice things happened to my mind. The last few months have been pleasantly beautiful in my mind. Particularly because after I resumed meditation, I was expecting outbursts of negativity in my mind when all the cleansing happens ( Been through that when I'd meditated earlier........long back..). Here, I was not only happy that none of the angst manifested in anything, but I was happy that I'd been ready to take head-on anything that came my way,anything that did manifest. Sometimes things work out so well, it's really naive to attribute that to co-incidence. At other times, I'm run up against a wall no matter where I go, what I do. I was prepared for both this time. Either you're in sync with the vibes or you're out of sync.I really didn't mind either, then.
In this happy state, when I met surroundings that had changed me so much in the last few years, I felt glad I'd grown the way I did. Felt sad that some people hadn't bothered to grow. Those two days I spent there were like a dream. Running into a professor on the stairs at 11 o clock, who was leaving early that day and would be on maternity leave for 4 months after that. Getting all my work done neatly, time-managing it all, getting invaluable suggestions from a very dear Professor. I got the letters sealed and left to Bangalore quite happy and contented. Thanking God for making it all happen so pleasantly. I wasn't expecting half the pleasant co-incidences that happened. 2 hours before my bus to Bangalore, I even got to watch a rare Yakshagana performance ,courtesy my friend Aditya (who's like obelix and just as happy in life. Always ready to drop off everything and go attend a concert).
Cut to today morning. I confirm the pick up address from DHL.. all set to go courier my application packets today. After my morning prayers, I get this sly buddhhi ;) to go open one of the sealed envelopes and go through words of praise that I'd written for myself. The first one I open has a spelling mistake glaring at me. Communications is spelt as Compmunications. The letter was signed and sealed and I broke the seal out of a silly impulse. Failing which, I would have mailed it without batting an eyelid.
My guess is, with all the careful proofreading I did, the mishap (what else do I call it..) happened after the floppy had changed hands at the internet cafe down the college road. The guy opened the document, asked me how many prints I want, and must've pressed ctrl P. Only that he didn't press the ctrl key hard enough and the cursor happened to be between the two " m's", where the "p" got printed. He happily pressed ctrl p again when he didnt see a printpage window the first time, and printed out 10 copies of it. Since I'd proofread the soft copy at least 5 times before, I just took a cursory glance at the prints to check the alignment, and went up to the professor. Since he too had proofread it and had suggested some namesake corrections, he missed the error too.
Now, should I feel sad it happened , or happy that I didn't send it finally? How much of all this was in my hands?
Sometimes it's best not to decide.
For now, I'm figuring out whether I should thank God for making me see this bungle that could've cost me a potential admit that I've spent a lot of time working towards, or whether I should curse my fate for making such bungles happen in the first place. I'd gone to my college some 2 months back to get recommendation letters from my professors. Total mood change and all that. Set cog wheels in motion again in my head. This time when I went, the difference was my state of mind. I went in the happy state that one is in after one just solves a crossword. In my case, over the last few months, a lot of my questions within me were getting answered and this I suspect has a lot to do with the meditation that I've resumed. The results always surprise you when you're not expecting them.
Kinda like how children get excited when the sand castle finally takes shape. Not that they were specifically looking towards getting excited. They never do anything with the sole purpose of recieving happiness from it, in fact,of getting ANYTHING from it. They were building a sand castle because there was sand, there was bucket, there was flag and the deep blue sea. And sand castle was what came to their mind. Not the happiness that comes from getting some work accomplished.Their tiny minds associated a sand castle with the setting, not the feeling of victory that one gets after it's created. At least not at the outset. The thrill of accomplishment may make them do it again, but it was never the primary cause. Which is why, when the sand castle is finally done, the excitement on their faces is something that no result-seeking adult can hope to achieve.
True, work done well can make me happy, but I already know that. So by the time it's done, and in fact, even while I'm doing it, I am already expecting to feel happy at the end. That kills most of the possible happiness right away. The only happiness left then, is that this work is over with and behind my back now, so I can move on to the next thing waiting for my attention. Here's where the concept of karma yoga makes profound sense to me. Any work done simply because it's your duty to do it ( and it's your duty to do your duty well !) will naturally turn out to be close to perfection. While it lasts,every minute of it, you think of the work. This wisdom is thousands of years old. Pretty much forms the backbone of the Indian civilization. Once you decide where your duties lie, the consequences are not yours to seek. Children study well because they're supposed to do to it. Parents on their part provide a peaceful loving atmosphere at home for children because it's their duty to do so at that stage of life. Children look up to their parents and later save money to take care of them in their old age because parents took such good care of them when they were helpless impressionable toddlers and confused teens. It's duty for the sake of doing it. Parents had no tags attached about being taken care of in their old age. That love comes naturally to a child when he grows up and sees how selflessly his parents brought him up. At that instant, parents don't even have to ask to be taken care of. Duty done well and for the right reasons, makes it happen.
This new-age result oriented management mantra really gets to me sometimes. Results are bound to be good if all your attention was on the job, not on the result of it. Simple. Thanks to the penetration of such success-is-the-destination-and-not-the-journey oriented management concepts in the Indian mindset, we now have almost all of Bangalore looking at the higher rung even before their foot is firm on the first one. Heck, most of them haven't even chosen the very ladders they're climbing. Any kinda ladder the herd climbs, they climb. Any ladder that looks a little different and the herd avoids, they avoid. Oh.. nevermind.. no point..
Well, actually, the point is (getting back to "duty for the sake of it" ),that since I was meditating only because it's such a beautiful state to be in, I figure that nice things happened to my mind. The last few months have been pleasantly beautiful in my mind. Particularly because after I resumed meditation, I was expecting outbursts of negativity in my mind when all the cleansing happens ( Been through that when I'd meditated earlier........long back..). Here, I was not only happy that none of the angst manifested in anything, but I was happy that I'd been ready to take head-on anything that came my way,anything that did manifest. Sometimes things work out so well, it's really naive to attribute that to co-incidence. At other times, I'm run up against a wall no matter where I go, what I do. I was prepared for both this time. Either you're in sync with the vibes or you're out of sync.I really didn't mind either, then.
In this happy state, when I met surroundings that had changed me so much in the last few years, I felt glad I'd grown the way I did. Felt sad that some people hadn't bothered to grow. Those two days I spent there were like a dream. Running into a professor on the stairs at 11 o clock, who was leaving early that day and would be on maternity leave for 4 months after that. Getting all my work done neatly, time-managing it all, getting invaluable suggestions from a very dear Professor. I got the letters sealed and left to Bangalore quite happy and contented. Thanking God for making it all happen so pleasantly. I wasn't expecting half the pleasant co-incidences that happened. 2 hours before my bus to Bangalore, I even got to watch a rare Yakshagana performance ,courtesy my friend Aditya (who's like obelix and just as happy in life. Always ready to drop off everything and go attend a concert).
Cut to today morning. I confirm the pick up address from DHL.. all set to go courier my application packets today. After my morning prayers, I get this sly buddhhi ;) to go open one of the sealed envelopes and go through words of praise that I'd written for myself. The first one I open has a spelling mistake glaring at me. Communications is spelt as Compmunications. The letter was signed and sealed and I broke the seal out of a silly impulse. Failing which, I would have mailed it without batting an eyelid.
My guess is, with all the careful proofreading I did, the mishap (what else do I call it..) happened after the floppy had changed hands at the internet cafe down the college road. The guy opened the document, asked me how many prints I want, and must've pressed ctrl P. Only that he didn't press the ctrl key hard enough and the cursor happened to be between the two " m's", where the "p" got printed. He happily pressed ctrl p again when he didnt see a printpage window the first time, and printed out 10 copies of it. Since I'd proofread the soft copy at least 5 times before, I just took a cursory glance at the prints to check the alignment, and went up to the professor. Since he too had proofread it and had suggested some namesake corrections, he missed the error too.
Now, should I feel sad it happened , or happy that I didn't send it finally? How much of all this was in my hands?
Sometimes it's best not to decide.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Buying Time.
That's what I think is the best option right now. When no decision seems to be the right one. When even with the right decision, somethings still don't fit in. Buying Time usually doesn't exist as an option in anyone's "Actions to do in order to sort out the problem" list. But I think it deserves a place, not on priority, but somewhere down the list. Sometimes you gotta leave it to things. They manage to fall in place on their own if no one places them in the wrong sockets.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Greener Pastures - II
The truth is, it takes just one thing to give it all up and go where your mind works best. Or your heart, as the case may be. That one thing is what made the missionaries give up EVERYTHING they have and go to strange places, learn extremely difficult local dialects, start schools and colleges, educate people who otherwise couldn't quite count on the government for their emancipation. That one thing is what made Mother Teresa a symbol of love. That one thing that made an IIT topper throw it all away to the winds and take up poetry. It's called Faith.
Faith in oneself, faith in the grand scheme of things, faith in the power of one's thought or heart. There can be no better yardstick to measure and decide between various choices (occupational and life's ) that surround us.
Which is why "Greener Pastures" is a very relative word.As relative a concept as Faith is. Greener Pasture just means "better option" to a lot of people. Financially "better", spiritually, emotionally, technically better. For some Greener Pasture would be a place or a job that shows them a lot of green and all the "respect" that comes with being rich . My college principal, s.y.k ( read whatever you want into that word. every pun is intended ) is the first person that comes to my mind. He looks like Yamaraja, but wants to be Kubera. Then there are some for whom Greener pasture would be choice that kept everyone happy ( my mother, who was a rank holder in math, didn't pursue an MSc because she HAD to take a up a job then.She is still a BSc grad. And has forgotten about MSc now. Most importantly, she has no regrets). And for others, Greener pastures would be a choice that kept their soul happy.
It takes a considerable amount of introspection for the average Joe to figure out priorities, unless one is born at a prodigy level in some field of interest. Not many even know where they want to go.
This kind of mass migration one gets to see in Bangalore, where people do engineering in hordes just because every third house has someone doing that too.They don't even look at other fields. Many are not even aware of them. I see people in second semester asking me what books to buy to "clear" campus recruitments aptitude tests, and should they get their passport done now only so that it won't be a problem in 7th semester when they write their GRE. I mean...that's heights of following the crowd. People who are not even in a position to choose their electives ready to spend 10 lakhs just because every third person in college is doing that. Society does not expect everyone to do their MS in the US. Society expects everyone to make their own decisions and understand their own scope of interest after a point in life. That's till they become sensible enough to take their own decisions. Until then, Society's guidelines are there as ideals, to make certain things inacceptable and taboo so that a young mind doesnt' fall prey to influences that prevent their development. Now those ideals of independant,clear thinking, studying well so that your brain gets developed , keeping mind occupied with knowledge so that ego or insecurities don't have place to bloat up or dominate, et al , have been translated as " getting into engineering, becoming an IT professional, or becoming a doctor."
In between all this , the basic idea of human existance is lost. The only thing that man does that other denizens of this planet don't is to constantly evolve. That urge to reach better levels of thought and action is , these days, largely channelised towards going to tuitions ( for god's sake.. for how long in life will someone else guide them by the finger!!!), buying notes that "paper-setters " refer, calculating how much more they need to get in the third sessional to get an average of 23.5, which is what they need to get if their aggregate for that year has to be more than 76.7 percent, which is what they need to get an overall aggregate of 80%. And this is not the only recursion in their lives. Recursion exists in their very thought processes. Most of them have never had a single independent, emotionless,purely intellectual thought. Most thoughts are mere reactions, even planning is a mere reaction.
I myself at the end of my 10th standard, had too many interests, and didnt know which one to take up. I liked English, Hindi and History as much as I liked Math and Physics, and had read up way more on Genetics and Cell Biology, than was prescribed in the syllabus. All I knew was that I don't like Chemistry. So science was my major in higher secondary ( logic? you can always come "down" to arts in your Degree, but the system doesn't let you go "up" to science.)
My decision making skills didn't exactly improve in the next two years and I was again at crossroads
This time too, I had too many places to step into, and my feet weren't too strong on the ground because I just couldn't decide which ground to stand on. Needless to say, sound advice from my well meaning parents swept me off my feet, or rather, gave my feet direction. Engineering it was, that too Electronics, because of the impending dotcom crash. No clue of scope, No clue of implications.
Had I known engineering was meant to be a basic degree that gives you 7 to 8 spoonfuls of subjects in a semester, with no time to take in the taste of each, I would have stuck to BSc. I am fundamentally a details person. So degrees like Engg where there's too much to take and too little time, I would never be able to do things with the level of detail that I am used to. Today, as I apply to Universities and write my Statement of Purpose, I know that the time I took after my B.E, to decide my future course, has been immensely valuable in helping me determining my basic desires, my stengths, weaknesses, my core fundamentals and my set of rules of the game.
To some it seemed like a long time, but to me, it was an independant decision I took about my life. And if it doesn't match up to someone else's list of "ideal plans in life", not a problem.It wasn't meant to, anyway. Will post about my post-engg, pre-MS time later. For now, it has helped me define my limits and my limitlessness. It's about the realization that no matter what you face ( good, bad, ugly, pretty), it is important to have some quality control rules in life and live up to those at any given second. I have found my set of rules.
The point is, there're some who've found their faith, there's some who're yet to. There're others who don't want to let down someone else's faith. But in the end, what matters is quality. It's about the only thing to strive for in any walk of life.
Eagles' song :
So put me on a highway
And show me a sign
And take it to the limit one more time
Faith in oneself, faith in the grand scheme of things, faith in the power of one's thought or heart. There can be no better yardstick to measure and decide between various choices (occupational and life's ) that surround us.
Which is why "Greener Pastures" is a very relative word.As relative a concept as Faith is. Greener Pasture just means "better option" to a lot of people. Financially "better", spiritually, emotionally, technically better. For some Greener Pasture would be a place or a job that shows them a lot of green and all the "respect" that comes with being rich . My college principal, s.y.k ( read whatever you want into that word. every pun is intended ) is the first person that comes to my mind. He looks like Yamaraja, but wants to be Kubera. Then there are some for whom Greener pasture would be choice that kept everyone happy ( my mother, who was a rank holder in math, didn't pursue an MSc because she HAD to take a up a job then.She is still a BSc grad. And has forgotten about MSc now. Most importantly, she has no regrets). And for others, Greener pastures would be a choice that kept their soul happy.
It takes a considerable amount of introspection for the average Joe to figure out priorities, unless one is born at a prodigy level in some field of interest. Not many even know where they want to go.
This kind of mass migration one gets to see in Bangalore, where people do engineering in hordes just because every third house has someone doing that too.They don't even look at other fields. Many are not even aware of them. I see people in second semester asking me what books to buy to "clear" campus recruitments aptitude tests, and should they get their passport done now only so that it won't be a problem in 7th semester when they write their GRE. I mean...that's heights of following the crowd. People who are not even in a position to choose their electives ready to spend 10 lakhs just because every third person in college is doing that. Society does not expect everyone to do their MS in the US. Society expects everyone to make their own decisions and understand their own scope of interest after a point in life. That's till they become sensible enough to take their own decisions. Until then, Society's guidelines are there as ideals, to make certain things inacceptable and taboo so that a young mind doesnt' fall prey to influences that prevent their development. Now those ideals of independant,clear thinking, studying well so that your brain gets developed , keeping mind occupied with knowledge so that ego or insecurities don't have place to bloat up or dominate, et al , have been translated as " getting into engineering, becoming an IT professional, or becoming a doctor."
In between all this , the basic idea of human existance is lost. The only thing that man does that other denizens of this planet don't is to constantly evolve. That urge to reach better levels of thought and action is , these days, largely channelised towards going to tuitions ( for god's sake.. for how long in life will someone else guide them by the finger!!!), buying notes that "paper-setters " refer, calculating how much more they need to get in the third sessional to get an average of 23.5, which is what they need to get if their aggregate for that year has to be more than 76.7 percent, which is what they need to get an overall aggregate of 80%. And this is not the only recursion in their lives. Recursion exists in their very thought processes. Most of them have never had a single independent, emotionless,purely intellectual thought. Most thoughts are mere reactions, even planning is a mere reaction.
I myself at the end of my 10th standard, had too many interests, and didnt know which one to take up. I liked English, Hindi and History as much as I liked Math and Physics, and had read up way more on Genetics and Cell Biology, than was prescribed in the syllabus. All I knew was that I don't like Chemistry. So science was my major in higher secondary ( logic? you can always come "down" to arts in your Degree, but the system doesn't let you go "up" to science.)
My decision making skills didn't exactly improve in the next two years and I was again at crossroads
This time too, I had too many places to step into, and my feet weren't too strong on the ground because I just couldn't decide which ground to stand on. Needless to say, sound advice from my well meaning parents swept me off my feet, or rather, gave my feet direction. Engineering it was, that too Electronics, because of the impending dotcom crash. No clue of scope, No clue of implications.
Had I known engineering was meant to be a basic degree that gives you 7 to 8 spoonfuls of subjects in a semester, with no time to take in the taste of each, I would have stuck to BSc. I am fundamentally a details person. So degrees like Engg where there's too much to take and too little time, I would never be able to do things with the level of detail that I am used to. Today, as I apply to Universities and write my Statement of Purpose, I know that the time I took after my B.E, to decide my future course, has been immensely valuable in helping me determining my basic desires, my stengths, weaknesses, my core fundamentals and my set of rules of the game.
To some it seemed like a long time, but to me, it was an independant decision I took about my life. And if it doesn't match up to someone else's list of "ideal plans in life", not a problem.It wasn't meant to, anyway. Will post about my post-engg, pre-MS time later. For now, it has helped me define my limits and my limitlessness. It's about the realization that no matter what you face ( good, bad, ugly, pretty), it is important to have some quality control rules in life and live up to those at any given second. I have found my set of rules.
The point is, there're some who've found their faith, there's some who're yet to. There're others who don't want to let down someone else's faith. But in the end, what matters is quality. It's about the only thing to strive for in any walk of life.
Eagles' song :
So put me on a highway
And show me a sign
And take it to the limit one more time
Greener Pastures - I
Just got my school marks cards attested by the principal. Yes, the purpose is to send those to the universities I am applying to. I have applied for an MS in DSP to a few universities in the US. And hope to get my admits by March.
Just got some unintended feedback from well intended people. I've been thought of as a person who intends pursuing the rigors of MS and not bat an eyelid, all for the sake of more lucrative work. I don't know if there are actually people who're so greedy that they're willing to gain knowledge for it. Knowledge doesn't always come easy. Not in graduate school, if I am to go by what I hear about it. But I do know for a fact that finding myself going back to the same subject and spending long hours on it tirelessly is a sure indication of deep interest. Not Einstein caliber, but interest that makes you alert and keen to know about something, interest that gives you happiness when you make a little progress, interest that holds your attention. Most importantly, interest that's not driven primarily by money.
I agree, money is important, I also agree that I'm not past money. I do have a few basic needs to be met, and it so happens that money is needed for me to fulfill my desires independently. But if I was one of those who's never found an interest,or never pursued one, it's then really ok to choose a line of work that'll keep a roof over my head and allow me to fulfill at least my responsibilities, if not my interests. But if I've been lucky enough to find my calling in life, would I give it all up ( all = financial security that comes from a regular job, social and emotional security that comes out of living upto everyone's pre-defined expectations of you) and walk away towards where I see light?
If that light was so strong that it blinds me to all the worldly ties I just mentioned, I would certainly take it as my calling and do what it takes to get there. I know I probably sound like I'll drop off everything and go away to the Himalayas to meditate. But far from it, I feel I can never be truly happy if there're people who truly love me grieving over my decision. They grieve only out of their love for me.
There's this other category of people who don't quite see the white light. They see it through glasses that they've chosen to wear, or have been made to. In Bangalore, the common, rather unfortunate story is that every adoloscent, who's nearing the age of 18, has been conditioned to believe that he/she has to join either the IT club or the Doc's club. Anything "less" than that, and one gets branded as wayward or a rebel. I know people with absolutely no quantitative and mathematical thinking, who have Bachelors of Engineering Degrees in their hands. The University that grants them this degree is a joke, but more on that some other time. For now, there's this crowd where each person has lost his or her identity even before they grew old enough to find it. I know a guy who writes so well that you'd have to be a stone not to get moved by his work. Intense pieces of art . The guy is working as a testing engineer in one of the companies. Reason? Parents never accepted the fact that their only son had no intentions of earning fat pay packets, be an esteemed IT guy, take his parents to US for holidays. But I also know a guy who topped IIT-Chennai in 2nd semester, and left college right after that to write beautiful telugu poetry. He is now an editor in Hyderabad.
All I know is that the light has to be at least a little strong before it can guide a soul. One cannot stray away pursuing vague flashes of light in the dark. Not when someone else is holding hands too.
But if the light is strong, and if you have faith , it would be worthwhile to take the divine hint.
Just got some unintended feedback from well intended people. I've been thought of as a person who intends pursuing the rigors of MS and not bat an eyelid, all for the sake of more lucrative work. I don't know if there are actually people who're so greedy that they're willing to gain knowledge for it. Knowledge doesn't always come easy. Not in graduate school, if I am to go by what I hear about it. But I do know for a fact that finding myself going back to the same subject and spending long hours on it tirelessly is a sure indication of deep interest. Not Einstein caliber, but interest that makes you alert and keen to know about something, interest that gives you happiness when you make a little progress, interest that holds your attention. Most importantly, interest that's not driven primarily by money.
I agree, money is important, I also agree that I'm not past money. I do have a few basic needs to be met, and it so happens that money is needed for me to fulfill my desires independently. But if I was one of those who's never found an interest,or never pursued one, it's then really ok to choose a line of work that'll keep a roof over my head and allow me to fulfill at least my responsibilities, if not my interests. But if I've been lucky enough to find my calling in life, would I give it all up ( all = financial security that comes from a regular job, social and emotional security that comes out of living upto everyone's pre-defined expectations of you) and walk away towards where I see light?
If that light was so strong that it blinds me to all the worldly ties I just mentioned, I would certainly take it as my calling and do what it takes to get there. I know I probably sound like I'll drop off everything and go away to the Himalayas to meditate. But far from it, I feel I can never be truly happy if there're people who truly love me grieving over my decision. They grieve only out of their love for me.
There's this other category of people who don't quite see the white light. They see it through glasses that they've chosen to wear, or have been made to. In Bangalore, the common, rather unfortunate story is that every adoloscent, who's nearing the age of 18, has been conditioned to believe that he/she has to join either the IT club or the Doc's club. Anything "less" than that, and one gets branded as wayward or a rebel. I know people with absolutely no quantitative and mathematical thinking, who have Bachelors of Engineering Degrees in their hands. The University that grants them this degree is a joke, but more on that some other time. For now, there's this crowd where each person has lost his or her identity even before they grew old enough to find it. I know a guy who writes so well that you'd have to be a stone not to get moved by his work. Intense pieces of art . The guy is working as a testing engineer in one of the companies. Reason? Parents never accepted the fact that their only son had no intentions of earning fat pay packets, be an esteemed IT guy, take his parents to US for holidays. But I also know a guy who topped IIT-Chennai in 2nd semester, and left college right after that to write beautiful telugu poetry. He is now an editor in Hyderabad.
All I know is that the light has to be at least a little strong before it can guide a soul. One cannot stray away pursuing vague flashes of light in the dark. Not when someone else is holding hands too.
But if the light is strong, and if you have faith , it would be worthwhile to take the divine hint.
Friday, February 04, 2005
For the First Time.....I am looking in your eyes...
No sentiments here, because I really don't know why I'm blogging. But I'd like to see where it takes me. I'd like to see how much of my right brain gets to see the light of day when I start writing. Even if Compulsive Blogging Syndrome ever becomes the reason to write.I'd like to find better reasons than that , to take up blogging. When I write, it takes me a few lines to leave behind my inherent and induced and conditioned left-brained thinking. Sometimes, till the end of the piece, it's still my left brain talking. Blogging is a part of my efforts in trying to unlearn such patterns of thought. School and College have done their duty in developing logical, quantitative and analytical skills in me. The only expression for my soul was through music, all my life. But those beautiful moments of contact with my soul make me want to find other ways of staying in touch with it. Writing is surely one of them. The only writing I did until recently was in the form of essays we were told to write in School and College. But obviously, it takes more than verbal skills to get that one moment of connectivity. It wasn't untill fate flung me into a college situated in the foothills of the Western Ghats, that I started some awe-induced writing.
Having been in big cities all my life, the contrast between nature (original, raw, natural.......... how does one describe something so pure..) and the concrete jungle ( where i've lived all my life) was so stark that it took me a good 2 months to fully take in the contrast. From then started this journey of watching my reactions and sorting them out as natural and induced. I would've never learnt my true identity had I been in a city through my B.E years. In a city, there's always somebody around to talk to, some work waiting to be done, someone calling in, someone dropping by, some books waiting to be read, some music waiting to be listened to. There's also love and comfort to be found at home. In that remote village, there was only solitude. No Television. No Music. ( at least not for a coupla months when I lost my walkman's battery charger). No Books ( books would come back to you in tatters.. dog-eared. . ANY book changes quite a few hands in the hostel ). And no love at home to come back to. I'm not the types to go "hang out" in a place even in the city, but in college, the usual hang-outs were waterfalls, rivers, hanging bridges, little hillocks, winding paths through swaying paddy fields. Only me and those mist-covered mountains.( yes, Dire Straits is one of my favorites). Most of the time, it rained there, and all plans of going out were subject to the discretion of the rain god. So there were long hours of ...solitude .That's when those feeble voices in my head became audible. Wonderful things happen when the mind's eye is turned inwards. I'm now back in the city, but the big jigsaw puzzle in my brain now finally hints at a picture. Of course, some pieces still haven't fallen in place, but all in good time.
Peace and joy.
Having been in big cities all my life, the contrast between nature (original, raw, natural.......... how does one describe something so pure..) and the concrete jungle ( where i've lived all my life) was so stark that it took me a good 2 months to fully take in the contrast. From then started this journey of watching my reactions and sorting them out as natural and induced. I would've never learnt my true identity had I been in a city through my B.E years. In a city, there's always somebody around to talk to, some work waiting to be done, someone calling in, someone dropping by, some books waiting to be read, some music waiting to be listened to. There's also love and comfort to be found at home. In that remote village, there was only solitude. No Television. No Music. ( at least not for a coupla months when I lost my walkman's battery charger). No Books ( books would come back to you in tatters.. dog-eared. . ANY book changes quite a few hands in the hostel ). And no love at home to come back to. I'm not the types to go "hang out" in a place even in the city, but in college, the usual hang-outs were waterfalls, rivers, hanging bridges, little hillocks, winding paths through swaying paddy fields. Only me and those mist-covered mountains.( yes, Dire Straits is one of my favorites). Most of the time, it rained there, and all plans of going out were subject to the discretion of the rain god. So there were long hours of ...solitude .That's when those feeble voices in my head became audible. Wonderful things happen when the mind's eye is turned inwards. I'm now back in the city, but the big jigsaw puzzle in my brain now finally hints at a picture. Of course, some pieces still haven't fallen in place, but all in good time.
Peace and joy.
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