The Journey of the One

A Long While

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 20:21:00 +0000

There are those days when you wish time were on your side. When you couldn't wait for tomorrow to come, however hard you tried. Every second ticked like it was a year, spawning with it a rush of thoughts each warranting enough credibility and attention that it felt surreal. Yet not so real that it could transport you. Just enough so that it could capture your mind's fancies for a while. A long while.

I was longing for the war to end. It had taken a toll on me slowly. At first, I tried not to notice the hurt. It started off as a little less than a battered ego and a bruise. I let go, claiming immunity with a self attested passport generous helpings of maturity and endurance. But the bruise needed tending, much less than that the ego yearned. Yet help didn't come, and the bruises started showing as deep cuts over time. A cut deep enough to see flesh and bone, and feel disgusted just imagining. The kind of wound that you couldn't stop thinking of once you see it.

In the distance, I could hear drunk men braving the cold singing songs and drumming with nothing more than boxes. The inebriated drone of the same song repeated itself to death, with the drumming so out of sync that only the others there perhaps appreciated it. Why couldn't they see the futility of this all? Were they blind to the expanse of broken dreams that lay strewn around them. Couldn't they smell the inevitability of a slow death lurking around. A death of character, a death of their ethos, a death of everything they once thought they stood for.

I try my common antidote to frustration, a cigarette. It works. I'm fascinated by the fire, the smoke, the banal simplicity of it. It drowns out the failed attempt at music for a while. The smoke clouds my eyes, as it does my mind. The wind drags the smoke away from me, as mosquitoes home in on their target - me. Metal wings of my good luck charm, the butterfly lifelessly collapse at my feet. I try in vain to juggle my cigarette in one hand, while trying to prevent the bloodsuckers. It's time to stub it out. What seemed like a savior a minute ago seems like a lost cause already.

The distant lawless sounds creep back into my mind. Now it's reduced to a cacophony. Perhaps it's time to withdraw indoors. To safer confines. A quick glance indoors makes me feel nauseous. The haven feels like a compromise now. I long for the distinct crackle of the radio. It doesn't. Perhaps for the better, I conclude. The radio is no more than a carrier of more death and misery.

The fantasy of peace feels painfully distant. However much I try to remember the fragrance of tranquility, it evades me. I feel like I should make a mental flag at the next opportunity I encounter it. So that I can remember how it feels, tastes, smells. But I will once again be lost in the euphoria of it all when that moment does arrive. For it has not eluded me forever. Peace and I are strange bedfellows. It's a vacation romance that lasts only for the short duration of what seems like an insignificant part of my life. And in between it all, I'm consumed by this war. The war within.

Rules of the Facebook age

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sun, 11 Dec 2011 14:11:00 +0000

The overused "social age" metaphor is a good place to start. We are all now connected to almost every single person we know well enough. And a lot of others that we don't. David McRaney argues that there are a few psychological reasons people like to have as many friends on their list as they do. Every single person now knows more about you than they ever needed to, because of only one reason. You.

It's this itch that doesn't leave you, a tease that doesn't feel corrupt. The need to portray oneself as better is pervasive. We all have our own definitions of our 'better'. There are some that would describe their 'better' as more well read, more well traveled, more popular, more creative, more successful professionally, more attractive and countless other aspects of one's life. And here's your easiest chance to portray a larger than life image of yourself. Without leaving the comfort of your desk.

So you do it too. It starts off innocuously by adding people you met once in order to reach that number of friends that your neighbor has. And if the critics ask how you got to 1000+ friends, say you never added anyone and that you just don't want to be rude to others' requests. Be realistic. Either you're of some use to others (attractive, successful, influential) or you've added those people. Everyone claims to be polite, even if that is the exact opposite of what they are personally.

You're now starting to take photos of yourself for the sole intention of making it your profile picture. Nobody really looks like their profile picture photo anymore. Here's the things you did, all perhaps without even realizing it. You've spent enough time in front of the mirror in your life to know which your good side or pose is. So take a good camera that works in low light; go to that club that you've only ever been to once; strike your favorite pose, arm yourself with your partner and shoot. Next, spend the rest of the evening uploading these from your iphone or blackberry.

Serves all your purposes in one go. Firstly, everyone will think you're a regular there at that hot nightspot. Secondly, it's your best pose in your best attire. And lastly, you have your partner in the frame, so nobody thinks you're a loser. Right? Wrong. Everyone does the same so they already know you're not a regular in that invite-only club anymore than they are. Secondly, you don't often look like your profile picture. And lastly, most people that are married or dating never keep their profile pictures with themselves alone. They strangely always have their partners in their profile pictures. Now don't tell me it's love, I know it's not. It's probably your insecurity or your lack of individuality as a person.

And every single time you go to any event, make sure you check yourself in with all the others you want to be seen with. And add a status update that goes, "Never had so much fun ever!!" or the like. Or tell people how amazing that performance or movie or concert is that you're at. If it really was that captivating, I doubt you'd remember to take out your phone and update your status.

Joel Stein tweeted that a person is considered high maintenance if she's got more than 800 photos tagged of hers. I beg to differ slightly. I think that person probably has an addiction to garnering attention, has an insecurity of being alone AND is high maintenance.

There are merits some have enjoyed out of peoples' innate curiosity in knowing about the lives of others. The Shilpa Shettys and Kardashians of the world did succeed in making careers out of doing this for a long time, but you're probably not going to see what happens to them after people move on to their next muses. And attention does get addictive. But unfortunately, amidst Goliaths like drinking, substance abuse and sex, attention doesn't yet have rehabilitation centers.

It's a middle of the spectrum phenomena. There are those amongst us that don't have the curiosity, patience or time for this because they're ahead of the threshold levels of self awareness and actualization. And there are the others that perhaps feel miserable seeing what people are up to and think they wouldn't match up however hard they try. It's the ones in the middle, the strugglers amongst us that are consumed by this. The ones that measure themselves up against the standards others set for themselves. The ones for whom everything is relative and very rarely, absolute. The ones that will always remain in the middle of the spectrum. And those that will redefine rules for their lives the next time a fad like this comes along.

Nobody even notices this as abnormal or out of the ordinary anymore. But there are several people who do go thru bouts of depression looking at the life someone else is apparently leading. Note to those: their life is no better than yours. They obviously don't ever post anything about their bad hair days, the times birds shit on them or their troubles at home. And no matter how far one goes in trying to fool themselves, self-awareness in some degree will catch up someday and whisper, "Hey, you're really not who you're trying to be"...

Office Party

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 18:51:00 +0000

And there it was. The end of the 'working session', signaled by the bar being declared open. The DJ gets his cue, starts off heavy. Hip-hop ranging from Flo Rida to Neyo and all the other new pop songs that constitute any club's regular commercial playlist. The crowd rushes to the bar. Orders ranging from "beer" to "mango-based mocktails" are called for, and sometimes met with quizzical looks from the bartenders. They roll their eyes and serve up the drinks.

The call is for "shots" and some wise guy comes to the bar asking for 10 shots. He looks around, "Yeah, make it 10 tequila shots". The bartender tries serving up the tequila, lime and salt in the limited time available. Any more than a minute and she's sure to be quizzed on how long it'll take. An incoherent set of people are amassed from the ones standing near the bar and in close proximity to it. People down their shots in the shot circle; some go salt, tequila and lime. Others go lime, tequila and salt.

Someone has the courage or drunken spirit to go to the DJ and request for a Munni/Sheila song. The DJ gets it, this is going to get the most cheers. He switches to Hindi commercial pop, and won't stop this until people are getting carried back.

People start the awkward dance circle. This is after a couple of drinks. A large circle forms with people from a certain group forming the core members. Everyone sways to the music. Someone that's had a couple of drinks more than average ventures inside. Everyone cheers and a few others join. A smaller inner circle is formed and everyone repeats the same dance moves. The moves repeat for long stretches of time, irrespective of the song, waiting patiently for everyone to learn the move and then master it. This continues until the inner circle becomes bigger. The older members drop off nondescriptly to get out of the circles altogether. This continues until people are satisfied with having shook a leg. The legs that have only left feet.

Another few drinks or shots down the line, the outer circle starts demonstrating the same characteristics as the inner one. People now resort to shoving drinks down others' throats, clothes and anything else they can distinguish.

Amidst the chaos, I escape to light up a cigarette. It's much more peaceful here, but talk of work and goals isn't far from any conversation. A quiet drag here, a stolen glance there. The world sure goes around.

Therapy

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 19:14:00 +0000

"Lights will guide you home...

And ignite your soul,

And I will try... To fix you"

- Coldplay, Fix You

No matter how many songs Chris Martin pens about loneliness and love, it doesn't change a thing. It makes for good music, and it provides hope.

Yet hope is short lived and logic gets the better of you as soon as the song fades out. After promises of utopia comes the reality of dystopia. Of cures ranging from valium and sleeping pills to various levels of therapy.

Therapy is often the easiest suggestion when something inexplicable occurs to someone around you. You can probably recount instances of suggesting therapy to a mutual friend or loved one quite easily. This was perhaps prefixed by a lengthy discussion on how to get the incumbent out of the current rut they're in and get back to leading a normal healthy life.

Normal, healthy life. How easy it is to spell and how hard it is to define. There never did exist an established meaning of normal. After all, everyone is someone else's weirdo. If living a life so that nobody around thought one to be a weirdo was normal, then most of us wouldn't dare challenge artificial boundaries set by their ancestors and society. The revolutions of the world wouldn't take place and neither would art and science thrive.

Stop right there. You're not part of any revolution. You're too scared to go support the civil dissonance movement in your city, for fear of being apprehended by the police. You won't be a desk campaigner for the cause that hacktivist group is campaigning for, because that would require you to do some work. Let alone supporting a revolution, you won't even take a differing stance from the rest of your colleagues on the new smart ass who is teething in his first few days. You join hands and mockingly applaud his innocent misendeavors.

That solves it right here. You are normal. Everyone you know will testify to it without flinching. And apparently not in need of therapy.

And then there are the others, the misfits, the eccentrics and the violent. There is no shame in being a misfit if being normal didn't work out for you as long as nobody is affected by it. But there is absolutely no honor in harming someone as a consequence of this. And someone who cares for you, at that. Not those 'friends' that text you on your birthday as a courtesy, or those 'loved ones' who think more of their entertainment than that one phone call to find out about your well-being. Hurt someone that genuinely loves you and therapy, along with strong dosages of prescriptive drugs are not only warranted but desirable.

But if there are those that irritate you with their life's disasters, frustrate you because they just don't understand you, or aren't willing to toe your line, then spend a moment to think about what ails them. Perhaps they don't matter to you. And even if they do, think about whether you want to throw in the towel and suggest therapy or worse, give advice. There isn't a person in the world that doesn't have their lows. And there's isn't a subset of those that didn't get a chance to get over it.

Nobody needs a pretentious therapist to work out their problems for them. Therapy comes in different shapes and sizes. Someone's therapy might be a vacation, another one's might be porn. Someone's might be a group of people sharing stories, while for some it might be the right music. They don't need your sympathy or your charity. Neither your patronizing speeches nor your condescension. They need space, and time. Space to breathe, and time to stand up back on their own two feet without crutches supporting them. And if you have that patience in you to watch, they will survive. Because it's in our genes. We survive.

How to Save Everyone

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sun, 17 Apr 2011 08:20:00 +0000

"I think I'm not made for this", she said softly, teary eyed and shaken. "Of course, you can", I replied vehemently, "All you need to do is to stand by what you believe in and things will follow."

"No, you don't know how bad this is", she went on. This was the tipping point. I had just gone from being a casual listener to a well-wisher who cared to now being a strong proponent of a certain action. A solution.

I went on to convince and cajole her with a step-by-step action plan on how to tackle the issue that was plaguing her. It wasn't enough, and it was never going to be. Not because I hadn't thought it through, but because it had come from a person other than her.

In my formative years, I learnt a very important lesson, the hard way.

"Never try to help someone who doesn't want to help themselves"

Oftentimes over the course of the learning, and seldom after, I got into situations where I was fiercely propagating something which the person themselves washed their hands from. I often got carried away by people's emotional recitals of a traumatic past, a turbulent present and an anxious future. I always had solutions. It was probably a failure in my mind if I couldn't offer a viable solution. And to me, all my well thought out solutions seemed viable enough.

Funny thing was, the people that made me sit through these melodramatic recitals often never wanted a change. And slowly, I understood that if they really wanted to change something, they would've by now, instead of taking their problems to a relative stranger. This doesn't require lateral thinking!

And then, there were those others.

"You know, I never seem to be able to catch a break with the type of people I encounter in my life", she said. "There's always those reaching-up stalkers, the pseudo-intellectuals, the crass new-rich, the ones without purpose and every genre of loser that exists on this planet trying to get a piece of me"

"Listen, you seem like a nice kid. I think you should just wait for the right guy, really", I continued, "I know there's a supply-demand mismatch in this equation, but don't lose hope yet.", I assured.

All I could do was assure her of that good occurrence. And I met several 'good' people who got along well enough that I could empathize with them. But not do much else.

This was a person that needed someone to guide her along the right path. And she was perhaps on the brink of losing hope that someone like that would ever come along. I felt her pain, I understood how hard it was standing alone in the rain without an umbrella. Yet, I stood nearby, with an extra-large umbrella, not budging to help.

I had been there before, in these situations several times over the years gone by. I could extend the umbrella, but it would entail walking along to get her to safety as well. It would bring us close and she would be obliged to like and appreciate me. If you save someone, they would forever be in your debt. But their gratitude would wear off with time, and they would start re-evaluating you once they reach the safety of a higher plane.

And I wasn't playing that game. If I was, perhaps I would've jumped at that opportunity. But I wasn't. So I watched her get drenched, turning more cynical with every drop that fell on her. And wished her well.

"I wasn't going to be able to save everyone"

The Year : 2010

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Fri, 14 Jan 2011 18:08:00 +0000

It was a year like no other. This was a different genre of drama; pain and gain in measured material terms, nothing personal. It was a year when lists were checked, and tags were marked. Continents covered, milestones accomplished, goals re-thought and acted upon.

After the troughs of 2009, came the crests of 2010. People and places took a backseat as I, Me and Myself took to the stage. The world revolved around me, again. I dictated how anyone did or didn't make a difference to my life.

Arrogance made a re-entry and damn, I missed it last year. The control I sought was taught to me by an esteemed other. And I learnt well, and enough to stand me in good stead for a while...

Real friends and real love took the test of success. It is true that nothing truly changes your opinion of friends as much as success does. And it did.

Life is more complicated again. Got a lot to lose now, and in the spotlight. Similar situations I had earlier tread, and bungled due to immaturity and impatience. The last time I was dethroned from the summit hurt more than I could take. The way down made me revisit every duel I'd had, with a broken sword and wounded, fierce foes.

This time, I've reached here with a lot more patience and bags of maturity. This time is different. I've kept my Valkyrie tucked away for the impending storm. It will be a test like none other, again. But this time is different. This time, I'm ready.

Compete to Live or Live to Compete

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sun, 19 Dec 2010 17:21:00 +0000

When I was growing up, I realized that one needed to be the best at something to be recognized, to be rewarded, to reap the benefits of success and adulation. We live in changing times, needless to say. Somewhere between middle school and high school, something changed in this theorem. Suddenly, you had to be good at more than one thing to be successful. Gone were the days when that boy in school who was good at sport was idolized, or the girl that did well in academics was the example parents gave while criticizing their own kids.

You had to excel at sport, score well in academics, have a flair for extracurricular activities such as music and theatre and add a dash of talent in something unique like practicing a form of martial arts. Suddenly, these were the alpha beings in society. Or at least everyone started realizing that that's what they wanted to be. There was always competition in India growing up, simply because of the quantum of other kids growing up alongside us. But the competition showed no signs of climaxing, and continued skyrocketing.

And the list didn't end here. You had to be good with the girls. You had to have a girlfriend in the girls' school across the street, apart from having the coolest friends. And you had to be comfortable with foul language and the street buzz. All this leads to a highly stressful childhood for most, and I can only imagine that things are getting way worse. There were those that peaked earlier in life and lay discarded socially by the wayside, exhausted. While others peaked at the right time and made 'worthy' their lives.

If you had good grades in college, you wanted to be the cool person as well. The person who had certificates in participating from competitions. The person that took part in theatre, in university tournaments and everything in between. And you wanted a partner who could prove their worth, at least on paper, to the glaring social world.

You wanted him or her to be worth your time, to be someone as high on the social index as you were. And if you were in a constant state of flux in the social spectrum, you constantly changed partners to suit your needs as well. Many people commented in post-grad school that they were now attracted to a different league of person; one that they hadn't earlier thought was attainable. The ones they sought earlier begged for their attention, but to no avail.

We traversed so far down this rabbit-hole that it became our way of living. Somewhere down the line, the difference between competing to live and living to compete was blurring. And the generation of people growing up started focusing on success in every aspect of life. We referred to our support system as 'stakeholders', calculated how beneficial an acquaintance could turn out as a friend, as we invested in an asset's future return. We calculated risk/reward of staying with a partner when the relationship had lived thru its honeymoon period. And we blatantly termed people 'losers', if they had no apparent utility to us.

We probably cancelled a trip or two to visit the family because it was too expensive. And that money would probably be blown away in 4 trips to the latest nightspot in town. Essentially we traded a less 'worthy' asset in our portfolio for a more attractive one at the time. And we did this not only with people at work, but with the self-proclaimed important people in our life: family, friends, partners and children.

Where is the end to this calculated approach to all our decisions and judgments? Why has everything become so transactional? We almost evaluate, perhaps subconsciously, the value of a person in our lives based on their perceived worth or potential worth. What next, use the discounted cash flow model with a social currency to analyze personal worth? It's total bullshit when people say they're competing with themselves and not others. It just means that they are competing on others terms' but not ready to be held accountable for any loss.

And this is all because we were built to compete. We were taught that someone who didn't get it all wasn't good enough. Competing to live is something that has already started defining the youth in India and China, which is increasingly starting to tell on the economies of these countries vis-à-vis the western countries. However, the impact on people's quality of life and their relationships is something that hasn't generated as much introspection or thought.

It is a revelation that some will dawn on, sooner than their peers. And it is these people that will go on living far more gratifying lives than the depleted ones of the others.

Sirius

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sat, 11 Dec 2010 18:28:00 +0000

And there wasn't a cloud in the Northern sky. Sirius and it's better half seemed as one, challenging the remainder of the mortal universe to better it. Humans, apparently, didn't get the drift. The Eastern world studied it by remembering it in school, and the Western world bothered only to study it in astro-physics major classes.

Sirius may well be a classic example; the brightest star in our night sky, existing in a binary form, whose union was proclaimed by generations of stargazers. Until the science of telescopes far too complex to help anyone's daily life declared, as a result of careful observation and analysis, based on axioms nobody was going to prove, that it was indeed 2 stars.

The educated world functioned way too predictably. They had in their minds, a dominant logic of a world governed by reason. Deviation from the common startled them, made them uneasy. They were happy dispelling myths and questioning presets from an earlier generation as progress against lack of information and too little analysis. They wanted to get it right so bad, that they forgot what the wise had followed.

And there they stood, at the end of the tunnel of darkness, finally stepping out into the light, realizing that their eyes had been accustomed to the dark awhile now. That in the light, the world didn't seem as beautiful anymore. That inherent flaws were now visible; greed, envy and cruelty. Things that the darkness knew all too well, and feigned ignorance about.

The light had changed the world as they knew it. They had yearned for it from time immemorial and now, when they had achieved it at long last, it didn't seem as utopic as they had imagined it to be. Unfortunately, as time went by, they realized that they wanted to go back. Back to a place where the quest was what drove them to wake up everyday, instilling in them a sense of purpose.

Now there was just a void. And the inevitable truth dawned on them. That going back was not an option. So there they were, at the pinacle of the place where they worked to get to, not knowing why they came there, wanting to desperately go back. Civilizations progressed in technology, in efficiency, but not in their needs. Their needs were just as basic as their ancestors'. And yet, they thought themselves superior, assuming knowledge to be the mana that reinforced their status. Yet, they didn't consider even once, that someone somewhere long before them, had the option of taking their path, and forfeited it knowing it wouldn't leave them any wiser.

A false sense of achievement from a discovery that was made long ago. Analysis and information that deplored their standards of living, yet gave them a sense of accomplishment. Conditions worsened as minds went overboard analyzing and seeking information on every stone unturned, in every sphere of life. Until there wasn't anything left to discover. The entire predictable world was all captured as knowledge and celebrated.

And still, they all ended up worse than when they had started. Sirius was better off as one star, the brightest in our night sky.

Why I will never buy an Apple product

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sun, 12 Sep 2010 17:08:00 +0000

This isn't a rant of how overpriced, overpopular things often command mindspace over seemingly more important and innovative animals in our world. This piece, is about standing for something. And sticking to it...

More than two decades ago, many aspects of technology and the companies in the industry were different. There was no Google or Twitter. There was nothing pervasive about online privacy because social networking didn't exist in it's current form. We lived, blissfully, without knowing who "was having a bad hair day today", or who changed their relationship status to "It's complicated" after being dumped.

We complained about bandwidth and a dial-up modem that croaked loudly in the middle of the night. Phone lines were a big deterrant to connectivity, apart from the pathetic speeds we got. Indeed, technology and life were fairly mutually exclusive spheres in those days.

What hasn't changed since those stone-age days of computer technology is Steve Jobs. He still wore the black long sleeve top and the geeky high-rise jeans to his keynotes, which he continues to do even today. The man was a marketing guru, in the days, when the term itself wasn't coined.

He took on the big bad wolves in the marketplace, like Microsoft and IBM, in an attempt to usurp the throne to domination. It was a time when he would brashly depict Apple as the means of saving humanity from conformity. He waxed eloquently about how the big corporations of the day were indulging in monopolistic deeds and repeatedly sought investigations from state-run authorities.

He told America to support the underdog, to invest in something that is as unique, individual and nonconformist as they are. And they did. Slowly, people didn't mind shelling out their extra dollars for a curvy computer that did much less than the other ones of the day, because they felt they were supporting entrepreneurship. The true American dream. The dream of a crosscultural American kid, one like them, who sought spiritual enlightenment, experimented with substances and finally came into his own.

An inspiring albeit reckless person, he had a sound business sense and continues to be a role model for generations to come. Slowly but surely, there were newer 'inventions' that were, like most other Apple 'inventions', rip-offs of earlier existing technologies bundled in a commerically appealing format. The transformation from cult favorite to commerical came easily at a time in the social world, when being different was the only way to survive.

The smorgasbord of products that they dished out, kept appealing to masses, who still believed they had something different. All the 110 million people that own iPods probably feel the same way.

Something, however, was differnt now. The niche spot that Jobs had carved out for Apple in the marketplace was now redefined. They had become the size of the erstwhile monsters they had fought. And with great power, as Spiderman's dying uncle said, did come great responsibility.

This was followed by a complete downfall of moral standards, that they themselves claimed they stood for. When businesses donate billions to aid, they know that consumer goodwill is affected in an intangible way somehow. The similar analogy holds for what a company stands for, especially if they try to hold a moral high ground.

After many instances in the recent past, the details of which are much beyond the scope of this article, starting from the FCC controversy to the Flash debates, Apple has just become that monster. One so ugly, that Microsoft bundling their IE with Windows seems like a small scared kitten compared to this blood-thirsty hunting wolf.

There are others who have probably done the same, to save their revenue streams. But perhaps, not at the cost of many development companies and their developers. Perhaps not at the cost of sounding like a complete hypocrite in their FCC response and the many interviews that Jobs does. Perhaps not at the cost of those people who invested that extra buck in something they believed someone stood for.

All this wreaks of immorality, and plain deception. Of a company that knows how to earn their bucks, but leaves a sour aftertaste to it. I have been an afficionado of the technology space for very long, and have invested hugely in time and money, in several companies and their products and services. But I won't buy an Apple product. Not now, not ever...

update: http://bit.ly/c92dEM (A nice anime video on the topic I later found on TechCrunch)

Conception

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 17:19:00 +0000

Inspired by "Conception" - by C.C., July 29th

Ariadne

There's something about him, something intriguing. Something that I've seldom seen in others. He seems so confident, almost arrogant in every stride he takes and every word he utters. He seems invincible...

When he first came to me with his tests, I felt a strong need to prove myself to him. And the deeper I went, the deeper I tread into this labyrinth, the more faith I put in him, unknowingly. There was no doubting his intelligence. But the man is bloody reckless.

I'd like to grow into someone with his skills, but not his traits. He seems unabashedly individualistic in everything he does. He has everything justified in his mind, from every little mistake to every life altering blunder he's made. And that's why I'd rather just have him as an acquaintance.

Perhaps, I have the power to save him. After all, his subconscious allowed me into a very private part of his dream. A subconscious in which he hides so much pain, in a mind that's lived his years. Yet, there's something about him. A shout for help that his aura exudes; not in a helpless, but in a strangely endearing sort of way.

He never does reveal anything to his close associates. It makes me wonder what he feels about me... I think I should be cautious; he may just be using me like he does everyone else. Yet, there's something about him.

Arthur

It's not possible; I know this for a fact. Call me a cynic, but I would rather be safe and rich than be sorry and dead. It's just old loyalties that bind me with him; otherwise the story would've been a lot different.

I'm not in it for the accolades, or the fanfare. I'd rather just get my paycheck and get out the side door. But he's exactly the opposite.

But I sympathize with him. He's truly changed, shattered after what Mal did. I don't disapprove his occasional outburst, to divert the attention from his real problems. It gives him a false sense of security and I don't mind giving it to him. He needs to feel like he's the boss, and I let him have it.

After all, he brought me into this game. And for years, it's been convenient being his researcher. With him as the subject, we manage to get the job done.

She is simply awe struck by him. And women with such imaginations always go for the quarterback. She's caught up with this sense of righteousness with wanting to save him. From himself. She'd could invest her time learning the tricks of our trade, instead. But she will learn, in time. It's not possible.

Eames

I'm an artist. Perhaps, I could be known as an impersonator or forger, but I practice an art. It's not something that these operational lads could ever get a hold of.

I'd rather live a life in peace than fend for my life every single day. Living in Cobol's backyard isn't easy. It requires a certain finesse with people, something Cobb and Arthur will never have the patience for.

Brick and mortar jobs don’t stimulate me, and the only reason I'm working with them on this one is the challenge. Perhaps it's the niggling thought of failure the last time around that spurs me on. But I'll give it a shot. It's worth the money, and it's insured. All I need.

I have the easiest 'out' in this alliance, the best way I see fit. While there are always going to be buyers for what I sell, I want to indulge myself in this enormously challenging canvas for my palette. I don't need to, I have all the money and peace I need. What I do need, however, is an inspiration. I'm an artist.

Saito

I want domination. After you get to this point in your life, you start realizing that you want other things. Starting from where I did, I acquired everything that I wanted. Money, Respect, Power. Except this.

I need to have it all. I know the industry like the back of my palm. What I can't do is compete with Maurice Fischer. The old log commands a respect amongst everyone from the President of his country to his every last employee in his factory. He's been good with me, and I hate that I respect that man every bit as everyone else does.

Robert Fischer will face the wrath of corporate war in every domain possible. The only problem is, Fischer Jr. is forewarned. He's going to be prepared to fight this war, along with the army his able father has trained and deployed at his disposal.

Cobb may very well be my last ray of hope. His team can be rewarded with whatever they'd like. Anything they ask will be done. All I want is domination.

Fischer

He was never there. Never a man to express his emotions. Never there for me, during my poetry recitals, my soccer games, my graduation.

All those times I'd wonder what a man like him was driven by. After all, he was always there for his shareholders, his employees, his customers. Everyone, in his professional life. They respected him more than any man I've ever known. There are times when I wondered how the same man could be so disparate in his life.

I looked up to Peter as a father figure all along. He was my father's most trusted aide, and probably knew me better than him. Yet, I believe Dad really did love me. That he was terrible at expressing it, but he did everything in his life, with the sole purpose of providing a great future for me. That one thought, of what he meant to say to me, when he was on his death bed, overwhelmed me more than anything else in my life. It doesn’t bring anything back, but it makes up. For the times he was never there.

Cobb

Guilt. That guilt is always there reminding me of the truth.

Perfection had taken a toll on me. I wanted imperfection after a while. I wanted us to experience joy and sorrow, ecstasy and disappointment, exuberance and anguish. I wanted to feel, again.

I wanted us to snap out of it. She did, in the only way she knew how. And I can't let Philippa and James pay for my deception. Not anymore. Even if I need to answer their questions all my life. Even if they find me at fault for killing her. I have to do this, the right way.

And even when I do, that guilt will always be there reminding me of the truth.

The Jab We Met Effect

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sun, 30 May 2010 17:44:00 +0000

When I first saw the movie in 2007, in a cold and rainy Manchester, I had remarked at how realistic it was. After a couple of re-runs, I realized that it was quite a classic. The screenplay was apt, never overdone; the dialogues were very simple and real, unlike most Hindi movies; the comic anecdotes interspersed in various scenes were just right; and the characters very well sketched, especially the lead.

One couldn't help but be mesmerized by her. She was over-the-top and loud, extremely overconfident and very self aware, not a very usual combination of attributes. She added flair to everything she did, and never let a moment pass where you weren't in awe of her. She always kept you guessing, to a point where her unpredictability almost got predictable.

There was an unconventional grace in the way she carried herself, and she was truly beautiful. The movie inspired me, and she called out to me from within it.

To a point where I met someone very closely resembling the girl from the movie. The girl was ablaze with wit, unpredictability and a power. A power so strong, that no one around could help but be mesmerized by her charms. She knew of this all too well, and worked it to her best most of the time. Mystery surrounded her every move, and it was hard to believe that someone truly played life this way. It almost felt like being dragged into the movie.

The problem was, I wasn't supposed to be part of the movie. I didn't know what role I played, and spent most of my time just observing her and saving those memories for a later date, to tell myself that I wasn't part of a movie dream. It was awhile before I realized that there was more than a small downside to this character. That downside, I later realized, was well explained by Steig Larsson's title character in his book series. The girl in the movie and the one in the book seemed juxtaposed to create the one in reality. And somehow neither the book nor the movie ever told me who she was, as well as time did.

This character was not a sustainable one in today's world. It truly required a very innocent and forgiving world to understand her. It required a very patient and non-judgemental person to understand her. And perhaps, the world wasn't ready for someone like her. It simple trampled on people like her, just enough to change her ways. Perhaps, this age and time were wrong for her. And she was wrong too, to think that the world would accept her, without branding her insane.

Often times movie scenes almost glorify simple run-of-the-mill activities into candy floss picture perfect scenes. The bad feels uber cool in a grayscale textured universe, the good feels like a bright blurred-on-the-edges soft textured world. That world seems a lot different, forces your imagination to go beyond yourself.

There are movies, and there is reality. Yes, movies and books create characters that are awe-inspiring. Yet, however much these media progress technologically and holistically, they will never ever be able to truly depict the reality of human beings...

Future and the Options

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 15:09:00 +0000

It came to be a convenient arrangement. They liked each other, refrained from throwing around the L word. They both knew they'd used it in the past with almost no effort. And somehow this time around, it just didn't come naturally. Or was met with an awkward silence soon after. So they let it be.

It was fun to be different, quirky to let associations be undefined, smart to keep one's options open. They played it as dispassionately as anybody their age could. On some level, it seemed more a short term arrangement, for lack of a more appropriate term. They were scared to call it names that tainted more than described.

One was not 'expected' to behave in a certain way. Yet there was always an implicit demand. When either of them crossed the fine line in making that demand explicit, all hell broke loose. There would be accusations of “not putting in any effort” or “taking no interest in the future”. And there would be justifications of “not being ready” and “too much responsibility”.

They continued to play this game for two, with almost nothing to lose. After the failed relationships in the past, they had learned not to be as forthcoming in sharing with others. Most potential partners are introduced thru friends, and friends have a tendency to disregard you as being in the 'market' if you told them that you were interested in someone. And parents: the whole drama of trying to explain to them why you were interested in that particular person and where it was headed to, was always going to be tedious. In this arrangement, they didn't have to do any of this. They weren't answerable, they could reply with an "I don't know" to almost every question posed and there wasn't any explicit obligation. And then, there was always the ex-girlfriend or ex-boyfriend that they could rekindle a romance with, especially if they didn’t know that you’re currently involved with another person. Easiest play in the game. And the new options were, of course, infinite.

All he had to do was search. There were ones with doe eyes. Ones with perfect bodies. Ones that dressed well. Ones that spoke well. Ones that were witty. Ones that were smart. Ones with class. Ones with spunk. Ones with dreams. Ones with values. He could get whatever he wanted. All that stood between him and this person was a search.

All she had to do was choose. There were ones with class. Ones with intellect. Ones that were witty. Ones that tried hard. Ones that were 'elite'. Ones that had ideals. Ones that were self-made. Ones with good looks. Ones who traveled countries. Ones with toned bodies. Ones that could sing. She could get whatever she wanted. All that stood between her and this person was a choice.

Neither would ever find someone that fit their bill to the last dot. They could cross-off three-fourths of their list, but it would be slim pickings after that. It would take a lot of maturity or helplessness for them to realize that they could make do with this much. That the remaining came down to how much they wanted it to work, rather than these statistics.

It takes two mediocre human beings who really want to be with each other to make a relationship work. Not two spectacular human beings that set their bar of expectations so high that they will spend a significant time trying to understand why nobody fits their bill for too long. Sometimes, it takes the best of them to get off their high horse and realize that life is always going to be half empty if the right chances are not taken at the right times.

Pop psychology tells us that one tends to accept a choice and be happier with it, when they can't go back on that choice. Sometimes, it is that simple. Make an investment with sound fundamentals and lock it in. And take a leap of faith. It takes two to play this game. That notwithstanding, options are going to be omnipresent every single day in the future. Yet they may just not seem as worthwhile.

The Year : 2009

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 04:27:00 +0000

As the calendar year reaches its climax, I look back to remember the year that was.

Joy. Anxiety. Restlessness. Boredom. Excitement. Longing. Belonging. Transition. Sorrow. Guilt. Depression. Misery. Instability. Frustration. Anger. Pain. Inaction. Upheaval. Support. Nonchalance. Arrogance. Thought. Inspiration.

This year was not my best.

Cyber: My soul-brother
Harvey-Dent: My fellow dreamer
Kvs: My ever-present wall
A: My Best friend
Lovely Superstar: My inspiration
Miss Sunshine: My counselor in this unforgiving world
Quack: My roots
Miss Paranoia: My daily dose of jokes and fights
F: My biggest fan

For the undying love and support,

Thank You

26-11: Bullets, Love & Life

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 10:52:00 +0000

There was something different about the day. It started off with conversation and no sleep, with an ‘enigmatic connection’. It was to be a day of records, with one getting created right as the day started. A long while later, when I often wake up to get ready for work, I decided to go to sleep instead. Groggy and sleep-deprived, I had decided to stay at home and catch up on much needed mid-week rest during the day.

As the day gave way to dusk, we decided on a plan for the evening. Shiro was my place of choice, but she just wouldn't acknowledge the existence of a world outside South-Bombay. And there it was, the decision made. Bootleggers in Colaba.

Not quite familiar with the name, I Just-Dialled it up and found out that the address was somewhat familiar. 4 Pasta Lane, it said. Cabbing it from Churchgate, I reached there exactly at 1945, as promised. And she was late, as I’d presupposed. My mood was dampened by the half-hour wait outside. As I walked aimlessly outside the place, smoking away, I noticed that the street housed some apartment blocks, prominent of which was one that was called Nariman House, which I came to know of, a while later.

It was a rebranding exercise that had left this place, earlier known as “Hawaiian Shack”, rechristened as something a little more unique, considering that it was obviously overshadowed by its namesake at Bandra. After a few complimentary Bailey’s shots and a couple of rounds of wine, the colleague and friend that accompanied us were ready to leave.

We mulled the idea of heading to another place after dinner, with the Hilton on top of my list. Bootleggers had proved to be a damp squib, and even the promised Karaoke hadn’t happened.

As we paid the bill and left, there was a sudden loud blast that took us by surprise outside, as she let out a loud shriek. Laughter ensued, as we just discarded the sound as firecrackers, attributing it to the weddings season. And then another went off. And a barrage of what seemed like smaller firecrackers in quick succession. As a crowd gathered 10 meters away, we were not quite sure of what was going on. Something was amiss. People were running helter-skelter and motioning for others to move away. We just stood at the sidewalk, as I suddenly became aware that the road was completely devoid of any vehicles. People were gathering around from everywhere, and this was obviously not a safe place for any women, as the JW incident just flashed by my mind.

And before we knew it, we just watched as a mob of

more than 20 locals pounced on a foreign national in the middle of the road. Even as a beat constable tried to separate the mob from the man with his lathi to help him, things were getting heated up. Just a minute later, an obviously injured man from somewhere else was being carried by 4 men into a taxi, perhaps to a hospital. Murmurs of gang-wars were starting to surface amongst the crowd of bystanders.

I took out my cellphone camera to capture the scenes, but was soon stopped by people around. “Damn it”, I remarked aloud as I reasoned to them that these are not really everyday occurrences. We briskly walked up to an eatery up the road, called Theobroma. We’d hardly ordered our brownies and cheese cakes, when we started getting calls from people informing us that there’s been some firing at Leopold’s. In hindsight, moving up Causeway to within 50 meters of Leopold’s now seemed like a terrible decision. And there was suddenly a lot of commotion outside as we heard what was unmistakeably, an automatic weapon going off!

The shutters were downed from the outside by the security guard and we decided to stay indoors till we received further information. The next hour or so went in answering calls from loved ones and explaining to them that we were indeed safe. The staff at the diner led us out thru the back exit which led to a Parsee housing society. Now cognizant of the fact that the entire city was rocked by blasts, firing and other nefarious activity, we decided to stick around as no cabs could be traced. Only the occasional police patrol. Some concerned residents brought us water and biscuits as we sat at the stone slabs around a park and waited. We heard rumours that the terrorists were hurling grenades into housing colonies as well, and nobody dared question. Going back home would not be an option tonight, we’d known.

After a while spent sitting around on benches in the plush neighbourhood, we proceeded to one of my colleagues’ distant acquaintance’s apartment. The biggest explosion till then suddenly sent shock-waves ripping throughout; as we heard the Taj’s dome blast from what was easily a half-kilometer away. The lights of every window at the housing colony went on, one after another after another, as people were rudely awakened from their sleep.

An eventful day and night ended with no sleep again as we stayed up another night.

It was a day like no other, a date that will reside in my memory for the rest of my life, as it was more exciting and one-of-a-kind than any I could ever plan. It brought me the knowledge that there are many that care enough to find out if I’m safe even if it is in the middle of the night, and also the unflattering knowledge that there are some that I’d considered dear that don’t even call, perhaps representative of their indifference to whether I live or die…

Chaos and anarchy are often thought to bring about suffering and misery. A life of uncertainty, a life where one cannot be sure of returning home safely at night; A life when one may just be seeing loved ones for the last time. Where life is frailer than one imagines; where one mourns for those that aren’t around anymore. And grieves when one hears stories of those acquaintances that’ve lost people close to them and wonder why the world’s come to be such a dreadful place.

Everyone talks about the pain and devastation that chaos brings with it… However, it brings with it something else as well, however short-lived it may be. It brings in us a sense of respect for our lives and those of others around us. It makes us count each second more dearly than we ever did. It makes us go one step further, to talk to those that are precious to us and tell them that we love them one more time, hoping that it isn’t the last. It makes us stand up for what we believe in. It makes us want to hold those loved ones for one last time, not wanting to let go. It brings us closer, for we are more aware that life is shorter than we’d like to think. And it makes us want to do more with our insignificant little lives…

Perfect Bride

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 21:07:00 +0000

Of late, I have been inundated with personal accounts of proposals, searches, oppositions and the entire gamut of experiences associated with marriage and a partner. Most people around me are on the search for or in the process of sealing the deal in hand, and yet coming excruciatingly short of the finish line.

There are those that have found the 'right' person, those that are not sure if the one they've found is 'right', those that are stubbornly looking for the 'right' one despite kissing a lot of frogs, those that believe there are no 'right' ones around and lots more one-off categories that would take a while to list down. The more I've heard of these experiences, the more I've realized that there are no easy stories around, simply demonstrating the age-old claim that 'ideal' doesn't quite exist.

If you've seen the reality show Perfect Bride, you know how unflattering the show is to the title. There are a few guys (of whom I'm acquainted to one!) along with their mothers, and a few girls who are all on the lookout for a marriage match. A leap ahead of online matrimony, one can witness the cut-throat world of partner searches, which is almost an enlarged picture of real-life relationships. I won't get into what drives these people to enrol for a show of this profile, for that topic would get quite damning and digress from the primary theme. I never quite took the MTV or Channel V reality shows seriously, because those shows and people don't classify as sane.

Here, emotions and words are faked with élan as people hold hands, profess love and would surely do a lot more if the mom's weren't around. The whole partner search concept is ridiculed by the way each 'contestant' hedges their risks blatantly with multiple people. And why not? The rest of the world is doing the same, without the relative discomfort of cameras and judges.

And no, the rules of "He's not that into you" don't apply here, Oprah! Even if they're into you, they're still going to take their time to accept your existence in their life. They’re going to say and do everything that suggests you’re in a relationship and then quip, “I’m not ready for you”. They're still going to keep you a stranger amongst family, friends and colleagues. If they’re on the extreme end of this scale, he’ll drop you off near the place you need to go, saying they don’t want people there to get the wrong idea. They’re definitely not going to tell their ex’s about you; ask and you’ll get innovative responses on this one. Don't even expect them to change their Facebook relationship status to committed, let alone link your name on it. And you can kiss that dream proposal goodbye. It ain't happening!

There are no "good" stories around for a reason. People have accepted the trade-off of deception and deceit over prospective pain. If you've not been able to make one work, you want that one to disappear into thin air making way for the Next Contestant. Nobody wants to have any visible residue around when the Next Contestant walks around for that all-important first glance. Whatever happened to Carrie Bradshaw's thumb rule of taking half the time you've been in a relationship to get over it.

We like our dessert better when it's not the only one on the menu. One obviously doesn't want to go home wanting if one's ordered the apple pie and they've run out of fresh apples, so having a walnut brownie option is worthwhile. Life is a race, and one wants to get where his or her peers want to faster than them. When people recite relatively "good" stories and swear by them, I encourage them to go to "Moment of Truth" (or Sach ka Saamna, the Hindi version) and return unscathed.

When I initially started talking to acquaintances about this "Hedging theory", there were quite a few of them that were taken aback at how cynical and cut-throat I made people seem. They then came back to me a while later and encouraged me to write about it, after having witnessed it in close proximity or bearing the brunt themselves. Today, that article would be redundant for obvious reasons.

Those that currently are on the lookout for someone can take solace from how they don't yet have to deal with this hypocrisy and deceit. Those that are currently with partners that are hedging can choose to practice it themselves. Those that are committed to someone, you're the smartest of the lot. You've already given in to this and accepted it as a part of your life, so this won't even raise eyebrows.

Teenage Dreams: So hard to Beat

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 09:07:00 +0000

He gets on the bus to college, the 121 route bus which ferries by every 15 minutes like clockwork. He looks like any other kid, just into college and about 18, trying to look older than he actually is. He gets on, flashed his pass to the conductor and chooses a seat near the window, while plugging in his earphones to his phone and clicking on the random play button.

He looks around, flashing a rehearsed scouting gaze that he's mastered, which could pass of as a nonchalant glance. He notices a pretty girl sitting two rows ahead of him, and another slightly overweight girl that had a cute face diagonally opposite. He remembers having noticed the pretty one before, and it seems like she knew a couple of people from his class. She seems way too well dressed and made up to be traveling in the bus. And people like her didn't take the train either. They got their drivers to drop them off to college or take the taxi everyday. She was the kind that stayed at Malabar Hill, the type that had rich parents who gave their kids wads of cash to spend every week. The kind of cash that had that inimitable stench that only black money does, and comes in non-sequential bundles, which old businessmen had stuffed down their pyjamas or worse.

She hung around with those rich spoilt brats in class. The kids that roamed around in their dad's second or third car, the ones that had managed to get their drivers' license delivered to their places while underage, without even getting off of their backsides, just because their dad had thrown some money at the touts at the RTO. The power of money, he promises himself, would be his soon, and girls like her would be all around him when he got there. His longish gaze is interrupted when someone slaps his shoulder. It is one of his classmates, taking the seat next to him.

"Forget it! Way out of your league", he starts almost snatching the thought out of his friend's mind instinctively.
"Why not?” he says. He is in an argumentative mood today. "Maybe she's smarter than them. And she really gets bored listening to those guys brag about how fast they drove their car at Marine Drive last Sunday. Maybe she wants to have a real conversation with someone!"

"Those types never get bored of those guys. She would be dating the most popular idiot among that bunch of guys and even her parents would be glad that she's dating some rich guy. After all, nobody that stays at Napean Sea Road made any money of their own; they were all 'born with a silver spoon'. And girls like that are only into stuff like that", his friend states matter-of-factly.

"Well, just wait and watch. I can get people like her in 5 years time", he says plugging back the earphones into his ears. As Chad Kroeger rhymes about being a Rock Star:

"When the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap,
We'll all stay skinny coz we just won't eat,

Hang out in the coolest bars...
Every good golddigger's going to wind up there...

...I'm going to trade this life for fortune and fame,
I'll even cut my hair and change my name"

She looks out the window, with the wind in her hair. Today's not out to a good start, as she's taking the bus to college, a break from her routine. On most days, she gets dropped by her dad on his bike on his way to work. She always insists he drops her off on the street adjacent to her college, claiming that her friends are all waiting somewhere there. Her dad suspects that she isn't really proud of being dropped on a bike, but he's never brought it up. After all, he was the one that insisted she get an education from one of those elite private schools whose fees could easily sustain a small household in the suburbs in Mumbai. He would probably not mind if his daughter came home to him, a few years from now, informing him that she wants to get married to a boy of her own choice whom she knows, preferably from a wealthy background. In fact, he secretly hoped that would happen, ridding him of the burden of going searching for a suitable match in his circles like a commodity. After all, he wants her standard of living to be much higher than his ever was.

She gets off the bus, slowly and gracefully. She catches the stares of two guys getting off behind her. She's not taken aback; she's used to the attention she’d been getting for a few years. During her growing up years, the neighbourhood boys would never let her play with them, until she turned 12, when they started to plead her folks to send her to play. She’d been uncomfortable with the sudden change then, but learnt to get accustomed to all the interest she sparked in the opposite sex.
Her parents have never stopped her from spending on herself. And she knows not to be extravagant, while retaining a certain elegance about herself. It is easy getting lost in the world of girls around her, all dressed and acting similarly. They all watch MTV and Channel [V] religiously, and ape those attires and accessories unfailingly. Nobody was ever different, or bold.

And she wasn't one to get caught up with last season's style. She maintained her 'own' style statement, picking up from magazines instead, those that didn't quite cater to teenagers like her, but to the 20-something woman. And with her attitude and poise added to this, she maintained a constant array of admirers in college, ranging from the staring-type to the more daring-type. The ones she chose to hang around with were indeed those rich spoilt brats with no character. She hated and loved it both at the same time. She loved that she could be with people, for whom money was not an issue of concern in their everyday life. It took her mind off her own family's financial issues. And at the same time, hanging out with them made her suffer from low self-esteem because those kids were also the most frivolous. They always made it a point to judge a person on where they stayed, what brands they owned and what places they visited.

She plugs in to her iPod. She notices that she knows one of those guys from somewhere. She's seen him in college; he's just another guy. She's never spoken to him, but he seems the sharp, grounded kind. It could pay to keep in touch with people like him; he'd at least know how to treat a girl with respect. She catches him off guard as she casts a sideways glance his direction and makes eye contact almost accidentally. She presses the Play button in the centre of the iPod dial, and catches Savage Garden playing... Affirmation

"I believe we place our happiness in other people's hands
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side,
...I believe your most attractive features are your heart and soul"

Disturbed by a Lack of Faith?

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 18:26:00 +0000

Often during one's lifetime, one goes thru thorough introspection about the meaning of life and one's place in it. While some of us take solace in the fact that a Supreme Being extinguishes those splinters of doubt that plague our minds, others stay content with seeking faith elsewhere. I won't delve into the merits and demerits of each school of thought, for that would no doubt be a pointless exercise. My motive, however, is to unearth and question some of society's prejudices towards these often contradictory paths of choice.

From time immemorial, people have faithfully paid Gods their tributes and followed elaborate traditions to please their form of a Supreme Being. While the origin of some of these traditions may well be bordering on superstition and myth, a major part of society preaches that we follow our ancestors' unwavering faith in these endeavours.

Society has increasingly become more accommodating of alterations to its ethos, as people have chosen to interpret it in various ways to suit their lives. Yet, society still retains its fastidious approach to counter-conventional views on the existence of a God. A recent court ruling in New Jersey denied adoption rights to a couple who declared themselves as atheists under the religion column in the application. Why are those that don't believe in a Supreme Being looked down upon as living without a faith?

An adult decides, without force or compulsion, that she doesn't feel the need to believe in the existence of a Supreme being. She conducts her life as anyone around her would, without any imposition on another's faith or a question on their beliefs. She partakes in festivals when they are an occasion of joy, and not for their religious meaning. Why should this person's civil and social rights be discriminated against?

As a society, we have nudged and shoved and created place for many philosophies that were earlier thought of as sacrilege. We have adopted homosexuality, polyamory and other social phenomena which were widely regarded as taboo, as hues of individualist expression. Yet we continue to regard atheism and its forms as blasphemous.

For many, a Supreme Being offers that pillar of hope and support only when all else fails. And perhaps society would still consider that a more significant virtue. Perhaps those that don't believe in the existence of this Supreme Being seek hope and support from within, or from society itself. The very society that blatantly continues to discriminate against them.

The Pouring Rain

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 08:33:00 +0000

As if the heavens had let go altogether,
Down came sheets of pouring rain,
As I struggled to find shelter under a thatch,
The Marlboro between my fingers begged to be guarded under my protective palm,
I was lost in the music of the downpour,
Oblivious to the noise of the incessant chatter around,
The mood often obeys the season,
As transient and unpredictable as they come,
The sea resembled the movie-set storms,
As the blanket of haze hindered the overwhelming view,
Thoughts loomed large over my mind,
Like the gray clouds did over the bay.

Memories of the past and hopes of the future,
Hanging by a small thread in the present,
I searched for the aura of a year ago,
The shades and hues couldn't be more different,
The contrast was not unlike the Light and Darkness,
Discerningly distinct, yet menacingly similar,
The trickery of variables continued to enrapture,
And the obstinate constants inspired more belief,
Yet the dead-end seemed an inevitable monster,
That I had to slay without save and reload.

And another would come to take its place,
Even before the blood on my hands had dried,
And every rotation left me richer and wiser,
As I garnered the applause and brickbats,
I've been in this game for too long,
Dominated while amateurs struggled to stay afloat,
It's time to open up the ephemeral portal,
Escape into the land of the mythical liquefied bliss,
And do it while I can at my own accord,
Lest I was pushed there by a power too fervent.

The rains lashed out without an end in sight,
Yet the clouds would disperse soon,
Only to gather again for another outburst on another day,
Unless there was a change,
A change in the direction of the winds,
The ocean currents and the revolving earth,
Till then, the heavens would continue this onslaught,
And down came sheets of pouring rain…

Dreams and Discontent

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 16:22:00 +0000

"Who's to blame if you're so tired?
And haven't found what you were longing for?
Lost everything you sought so hard,
Flown up to the sky and fallen back again?" - Translation of a Russian Song

Most people continue to live in state of mild displeasure at their current plight. It is described as normal human behaviour in classical psychology, as long as that state doesn't instigate one to destabilize that balance, more than mildly. People fit into this mould with relative ease, always wanting something they don't currently possess. This reinforces the theory that humans have not evolved significantly in this respect for the past thousands of years, and will continue to tread on this path, notwithstanding the allowable limit of exceptions.

"I hate my job, I just can't stay put any longer!"
This is a phrase I hear as often as once a day, from a diverse set of sources, for a multitude of reasons. Hypocrisy, Bureaucracy, Lies, Deceit, Boredom and many more; people have their own perfectly valid reasons to hate their jobs. The big bad corporate world, now inflicting the full force of its wrath on its inhabitants.

But it wasn't as bad always. We've grown up, watching those business news channels, captivated with the elan with which those CXOs conduct their businesses and their lives. We've wanted to get there, we wanted to be featured in newspapers, wanted to give those interviews about industry and how we spend our weekends. We've struggled to get to where we have, on a growth path that will lead us there in time, after investing a good part of our youth, into this quest.

The corporate life, the paychecks arriving every month on that particular date. The golfcourses, the deals, the contacts, the exclusive club membership, the gold tier on multiple frequent flyer programs, the parties, the webconferences with people in other corners of the world, the fame, the adultation, the recognition. We wanted it all.

And here we are, checking atleast 50% of that list in our first years of working, now wondering why we thought so highly of "corporate life". We were drawn to it like flies to a flame, promising to ourselves that we're going to make it to the cover of that magazine by the time we turn 40, not realizing what sacrifices that quest demanded. And now, we strain our memory to remember what we were after, in those years of preparation to get here.

We hate the lies those wretched HR people tell us, those promises that we were made before we signed on the dotted line, and the amount our company has us pledge away to the government, as deducted-at-source taxes! We hate how those no-good people get to where they are by constantly kissing ass, mostly figuratively, sometimes literally! We hate how some people get by on their looks all the time. We hate those people that always try to network with us, without an ounce of genuineness in their voices. We hate how each of them, however high up they may be, are equally wretched leches. Of their ability to remember only the names of attractive women and not the other noteworthy hardworking majority and never letting go of an opportunity to ogle at them, which female collegues desribe in disgust. We hate how we have to fake a smile at them wherever you meet them, just because they've reached a higher work-level, failing which they would take offence and perhaps use it against you in some way. And innumerable more of these situations that we undergo...

We crib to our friends about how this stifles us and how it would be prudent to just walk away from it. We comtemplate chasing our pristine dreams, the other ones we dreamt of before we got lured by the flashbulbs, the greenbacks and the glamour. "We'd rather be doing what we love, than something we love to hate", we reckon.

A few days pass, and we keep our niggling worries distracted by other things. Choosing to spend our time with friends, loved ones and other pursuits. Till the next time, a few days later, when the entire cycle starts again. For in reality, we just love our lives a little too much to want to let go. We love our paychecks every month, that pays all our bills and leaves a lot more. For in reality, we would rather crib about our current states and still stick there, than to plunge into an unknown.

We've been conditioned by society to think that we're the most successful if we make the most money. And we believe that the only ones that don't conform to this are the ones that didn't make it in their lives. And hey, we're making more money than 99.9% of our country's population. We love the recognition we receive from relatives who remark at where we've got to be in such a span of time. For in reality, we all grew up in the 90s in urban India when we were undergoing a transformation. The economic liberalization brought with it dreams of more than that prestigious government job, which everyone then was content with. Our parents worked hard for themselves and us, and put us thru those schools and colleges, where we dreamt dreams of being where we currently are. We dreamt of having a big house, a big car and supporting our parents thru to vacations across the world.

For in reality, we're scared. We're scared of throwing it all away. We've got here, after some time and we don't want to get greedy. We've all heard horror stories of how everything crumbles down to rubble so easily if you're not attentive enough. We believe in ourselves but we believe in the power of dreams as well. So we'd much rather go suck up some more to our bosses and get our 'checks in the mail. It isn't to say we won't pursue those aspirational dreams, we will. At a time when we feel ready for it, we will. But till then, we're going to be content with being mildly discontent.

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for " - Epicurus

Of Quacks and Bad Habits

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 07:11:00 +0000

The scene is that of a hospital, quite a while ago. No, I it wasn't for the reason that may be crossing your mind. I'm pretty sure I'm better off than the subject of that earlier post (My Most Embarrassing Moment).

I still don't know why I went to a hospital, except that I didn't know any practitioner to go to. And with my downright lack of faith in doctors, I only went because I was pushed and required a prescription for the drugs which I knew I wanted. Totally convinced that I was going to get prescribed some broad-spectrum antibiotics as most doctors would for most symptoms, I entered the doctor's room, hoping it would be a short encounter.

Now, considering that I absolutely deride visiting a doctor and trust in self-medication, I must admit it's been a while since I've been to one. So I started, almost as soon as he took his eyes off the newspaper and looked at me. He seemed above 50 and indolent, like he wanted to get this over with soon, and get back to his newspaper. I was not going to present any objection to that!

"I need some medication, I think some XYZ should do. I'll take the entire course; it's just a random flu, I'm sure it's nothing big"

He came closer, shone his small torch in my face and just said, "Hmm, let's see". At this point, I feel compelled to put forth my view on the following practice. I think it's pointless for the doctor to show you to that elevated bed, to sit on, even if they're not going to examine you physically. I guess they just follow convention without thinking.

After a minute or so, he picked up his prescription pad, and I took the cue to get off the elevated bed and go sit on the chair opposite his desk. Content that he was going to cooperate with my way of working, I was starting to feel like this was going to be a worthwhile experience after all.

And then it started.

"Do you have any bad habits", he said. Ok, maybe he was making small talk, since the whole process took less than 2 minutes and perhaps the hospital had a policy to keep patients "in consultation" for at least 5-10 minutes. I was about to respond with something sarcastic, but he clarified on his own, "Drinking, Smoking... Girlfriends?"

Now this was going to be interesting, I relished at the opportunity that had randomly presentled itself.
"Yeah, I actually do... I don't consider them bad, but I drink occasionally. And I'm not a regular smoker". He looked at me, with an overt display of disbelief. "No, seriously. I smoke quite rarely, perhaps it averages out to be less than 1 a day", I justified. I should've stopped here, for he was not expecting me to say anything more, I could tell. Yet, I was not letting this one go so easily. This conversation promised to be entertaining!

"And yeah, girlfriends... Yes", I said, choosing to carefully read his reaction. He looked up from his prescription pad, surprised at my reply.
"Oh, is it”, he said. ”So how many do you have?” he asked.
I couldn't help smiling now and replied, "It's not like I have several, just that I have had a girlfriend in the past... And I have one, right now".

His eyes lit up with this answer, and seemed amazed at this thought, choosing to probe deeper, perhaps to clear some doubt in his mind about "today's generation". "So what kind of girls are these, college girls or what?" he said.

I continued to smile as I replied, "Yeah, college girls at one point of time. Or working ones. What else?"
And this was the part where it started to get weird, when he asked, "So how much do you pay for them?"

I was suddenly thrown off guard, and start laughing now. "Pay?!” I said vehemently. If he only knew the first thing about me, I pondered to myself, he wouldn’t be asking this question.

"Of course not. Why would I pay?!"
I'd hoped that by now, he got the hint, and would refrain from more embarrassing questions. But the awkward interrogation continued.

"So then, they are ready to do everything with you, is it?” he asked, in his sing-song way of talking. This question took the conversation to a whole new direction, which I had not seen coming. I chose to continue, just to see where it'll take me. And I was enjoying this thoroughly.

"Uhh, it doesn't quite work like that", I tried.
He just wouldn't get it. "Then how?” he asked. It was like telling a 9-year old about what adults do, except 9-year olds these days probably know more than this guy who was apparently a doctor, who seemed to have descended from another planet recently.

"Well, you get to know them first… After a while, depending on what you want, things happen. It's very normal these days", I ventured.
"They don't mind, is it?" he continued.
I was going to say "they enjoy it", but thought he'd faint if I said that. "Not at all... They are fine with it".

I was getting the feeling that nobody had actually taken the time to tell this man about how things work these days. Perhaps, he was clearing his doubts, to better understand his own teenager or some other major doubt plagued his mind.

"Well, it's not quite like I'm just having fun… I'm serious", I said. It almost seemed like I was justifying myself to this random person, whom I didn't know till 10 minutes ago.

"So are you going to marry her...? Your girlfriend", he inquired.
Well, I haven't yet thought about it and haven't quite asked her but I'd gladly tell you, old-man, I thought to myself.
"Yeah, if things go as I want them to, then why not...", I ended.

After this, I was convinced that he was going to go on trying to find out more about this big black box in his mind, known as youth culture, but I somehow didn't have it in me to humour him anymore. Perhaps, the “marriage assurance” gave him a sense of sanity, and he voluntarily stopped. Either way, I didn’t wait longer. I thanked him, out of courtesy, although he really should have reciprocated, considering how much he'd learnt today! As I walked out smiling to myself, I pledged, like I had before, never to visit a doctor again... There are some that are quacks, and some that are just bloody insane!

Man-made Wonders [Edit]

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sat, 23 May 2009 07:01:00 +0000

A sultan of the new age world, you take whatever you've got and accentuate it a thousand fold in your mind. You've never stopped to rethink this. "It's one life, after all", is the one-liner that justifies all your actions. You want to be the rock-star that Nickelback rhythms about.

Whether conventional wisdom appeals to you or not is secondary, as you define rules for yourself. They are, perhaps, but small tweaks to the ones that are already in place, but you've got to create your own version. This is what defines you. You're not one amongst the crowd, and you've etched your place in stone for everyone around.

The worst insult to you would be if you were thought to be similar to someone else around you. You would never accept that you're not all that special as you thought you were. You disregard this as an aberration from someone who's obviously envious of something you possess.

It all adds up to one giant size movie set in your mind, which is playing out your very own magnum opus Bollywood film. The parents, friends, partner are all exactly cut out for their parts, always happy and making merry, without a care in the world. There is no space for dull and boring themes in this scenario. No space for mediocrity. You're the director of this venture, and every chair, drape and glass in this set is going to be the best. No constraints here, as you've got an unlimited budget that keeps getting approved. For it's all in your mind.

You make your job out to be the best in the world, your career goals and ambitions, seem like they tower over others around. Those around you will affirm to this, for it is their way of showing affection. And they too seek a symbiotic response. In this world, where everything mediocre is bloated up into giant size wonders, and every action exaggerated into a miracle, what if reality passes you by? You're so busy making your own wonders, that the real ones go unnoticed even when they're right in front of you.

In your mind, the overt difference is just time and effort. For you spent it in making the first one up, and the second one came as is. Does that make the second one more worthy to you? Will you let it pass by, not being able to tell the difference? Of course, you always have the chance to find another article and erect this elaborate sham for it as well. It's another of those things that you want customized. This one came into your life, already perfect. Maybe that's not good enough for you. Maybe you want something that came up just normal, with you turning it into a wonder. The tussle is between your actions and your instincts. If you put your faith in one, you would consequently have to forego the benefit of the other. Both paths lie in the haze beyond you, distinct from one another. What's it going to be?

Message to "Lovely Superstar": Go ahead, prove me wrong. I'm waiting...

Chasing the Next Fix

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Sun, 10 May 2009 13:24:00 +0000

All our energies are directed towards just this one thing in life... The fix differs from person to person, from material things to people, intangibles to aspirational quests. It is an itch on one's back, a nigling pain one feels, like the single mosquito in your room that keeps irritating you, buzzing away. There's no peace without attending to it.

It's much bigger than everything else that seem like trivial pursuits in comparison. It occupies most of our subconscious mindspace until we get it. And when the next fix does arrive, in small bursts, we embrace it with all we've got. It's almost how junkies would react, to the mana that drives them. You often get clouded with ecstasy when it hits you, albeit for the smallest of durations. It gets you into a trance, one that can't easily be shook off even with generous doses of reality.

And when the music's over, you're left with a sense of emptiness. A sense of deja vu from the last time around that this happened. You remember having thought that there was a way you could slide back into reality easier, but it continues to be as hard as it always did. You tell yourself that you're not going to go chasing it again, for the trauma of getting over it isn't worth the high. But perhaps your thoughts are now muddled with the trough of this consistently repetitive sinusoidal curve of emotions. And when the crest hits you again, you will promise yourself that the chase was worth every second of the pain. The cycle continues, without any respite. As we go on chasing the next fix...

Need Hierarchy in Relationships

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 10:32:00 +0000

Here's a theory I formulated when someone told me that they had attained a degree of self-actualization as a result of a relationship. Maslow, the psychological behaviour analyst, has without a doubt created a highly robust model to explain the needs of a human being thru the course of their life. So here's my attempt to borrow from that concept and create a model to explain people's needs in relationships...

This model seeks to enlist the main needs of individuals from their relationship. However, needless to say, it does not discard the presence of other physical, physiological and emotional needs.

The Levels Decoded
1. Acceptance: The most basic need of any relationship is acceptance. An individual feels the need to be accepted by their partner for the person that they are, the values they stand for, the ideals they believe in, the goals that they work towards and their idea of happiness and life itself. This is where several potential relationships break down before formalizing, and rock-stable ones break down after many years due to a re-jig in these basic variables for either individual.

2. Comfort: A key need is the comfort level one shares with their partner. As someone once aptly put it, "There are times when you end up doing nothing with your partner, and just sit around in the same room without uttering a word. For some this may be boredom, but I would think that it's a level hard to attain, to be your normal self without doing anything out of the ordinary and yet remain comfortable." There are some that believe that such a stage can be worked towards reaching, while others feel that this is just something that exists between some couples and not in others. Either way, the essence of one feeling comfortable in a relationship with their partner cannot be underplayed, due to its importance in the long run.

3. Safety: How secure the two involved feel is something of a given for those that exist in strong and resilient relationships. How safe a relationship is perceived as, is often a factor of how the relationship itself has matured and the foundation that it lies on. However, it often proves to be the chief hurdle in the makings of happily-ever-after stories. Volatility is almost unavoidable in today's age in most of an individual's pursuits. And one often does not feel as secure in a high risk - high reward relationship as they do in stable placid ones. Nevertheless, the need for safety and security in a relationship remains a strong determining factor in its strength.

4. Contentment: There comes a time in relationships, after all the arguments, fights, emotional blackmailing and wanting to change several aspects of one's partner, when one is content with the relationship. One gets so complacent with the presence of their partner in their life that they take everything about the relationship for granted. After all the power struggles, here is the point where the equilibrium has been conquered. One finds the thought of living without the partner almost impossible, just because of the sheer time that has gone into the relationship, and how much one has grown with and become accustomed to their partner. When one gets to this position, one doesn't question the reasons or triggers that keep them in the relationship. It's well beyond that stage, where the partner is an extension of one’s self and cannot be visualized as a separate entity.

5. Self actualization: The previous level is where most relationships yearn to reach, and saturate at. However, there are a few individuals that reach this stage. This is almost a secret mezzanine floor in this building, which cannot be reached by any elevator or stairs by trying. It's a state of being which is achieved when one attains a very pure degree of fulfilment in all the other needs. One then drifts into this phase, almost unknowingly, when one stars questioning the deeper meaning of a relationship and its value to life itself. However, this level is accompanied by a dangerous state of mind, which clouds one's mind from life progression activities. This, coupled with a high degree of complacency almost inevitably challenges the very ethos of such a relationship and tests its levels of endurance. Such strain on a frail relationship almost proves fatal most of the time, hence rendering this level in the relationship need hierarchy as both prized and perilous.

Moment of Truth

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 05:28:00 +0000

This term holds varied meanings for each of us. And I was inspired to write this after getting hooked on to the show by the same name that plays on primetime television. Firstly, as many probably haven’t seen this, let me explain the mechanics of this game show. It's an answer-questions-win-money theme with the difference from conventional ones being that the contestant is hooked onto a polygraph machine, which judges one's truthful answers from the ones that are not. One has to answer truthfully to move further. The questions increasingly get more personal and intrusive, to dissuade people from carrying on further.

In the process, there are many relationships that are severed beyond repair. What's interesting about this is to note people's motives to continue, knowing fully well that their secrets will be revealed to the whole world. And it's not just the money that drives them, but also getting a chance to clean out their closet.

Do we all have so many hidden truths that that it becomes impossible for us to maintain our relationships if these were to be revealed? There are two weapons that can wield a deadly blow to any that seeks to challenge this proposition. The thinks and the dos; The few amongst us that consider ourselves still to exist on a higher moral ground than the other mere mortals would probably get by with all the dos. However, I doubt there exists any individual so pure in thought that they could get by the thinks. For, however loyal you claim to be to a partner, can you claim to have never harboured any thoughts of another person? Can you claim to never to have yearned for better parents/siblings or a partner? Can you claim to never have believed that you deserve a better person? And we all know very well, that the nature of questions can only get darker from here...

So are we justified in thinking these thoughts or doing these deeds? There are some that argue that as long as you're not doing anything immoral or "wrong", then you're safe. However, does thinking these thoughts make you less guilty? Thoughts are precursors to most actions, for rational beings. And most of us would like to think that we are in control of our thoughts. Even if we are not, where do these thoughts start and end?

And more importantly, what levels of hypocrisy are we supposed to follow, if at all? For it would be outlandish to think that we can get by with mentioning to our loved ones, details of all our thoughts, however hurtful they may be. Flipping the situation, how would one react if their partner came to them and explained in detail how they had a thought-stream of an ex-lover or a potential?

Absolute truth is something that can only exist within one's sub-conscious mind. Even our conscious mind gets influenced by what we think we should think! And that in itself is perhaps a clouded truth... So don't get bogged down if someone tells you that you're not being truthful. For in reality, nobody would want anyone around them to be totally truthful. And perhaps, we are all truthful, but in varying degrees. The challenge is to be truthful to oneself, for there will never be anyone else who is aware of all the absolute truths, part-truths, half-truths, lies and everything in between but our own hypocritical selves...

Apples & Oranges

noreply@blogger.com (The One) — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 05:25:00 +0000

This one was a long time coming. This theory was formulated impromptu, like most others of mine. What’s different about it was that it was contrived on a Shimla-Delhi bus journey sometime during April 2008…

This bases on the fact that apples and oranges are as diverse as fruits come, right from texture, colour, taste and constituents. Most people in the world would probably like one more than the other, to such an extent that they can be put into that bucket, for classification.

Most people are either apples or oranges persons, with how nature and nurture has made them out to be. Much like how we’ve never questioned why we are a certain way just accepting that we’ve just been that way. It is something fundamental, something that we’ve not paid attention to the mechanics of.

But we are easily one, and definitely not the other. However, there are those amongst us that believe that these subtle choices can be overridden by our conscious choices.

Consider a hypothetical situation of a not-so-average girl, X. She loves the nights more than the days, the winter more than summers, rain more than sunshine, and the list is endless. Happiness is a state of being which she craves for. She is a thinker, one that ponders about the way the world and its people function and questions the rationale and logic of it all. She questions conventional wisdom if it doesn’t make sense to her. And she’s strives to remain content with her life. An apples person, something which she herself is oblivious to;

She grows up, unconventionally, struggling with the boundaries that society sets for her. She doesn’t fit in the box that young women are supposed to fit into. She’s somehow more than that. And then she meets and ‘falls in love’ with this boy, in those formative years when Proximity Traps are a dime a dozen, due to extraneous factors such as peer pressure, the need for a companion and to curb loneliness.

Everything is hunky dory for a long time, as most things that start in those harmonious years. She’s happy to be with someone that loves her and milestones and checkpoints are conquered holding hands. She goes deeper into it as he becomes a part of most of her life, blissfully hoping that this is what she’d always wanted.

And then a day comes, like it happens ever so often in our age, when the graph of time vs. happiness reaches a plateau of saturation and then takes a dive downward. Suddenly, a trap door in her insightful mind opens up a Pandora’s Box of questions. Questioning the reasons she got into the relationship, searching for those elusive answers that shroud the very foundation of the relationship in question marks.

After intense introspection, she realizes that she was subconsciously trying hard to convince herself that she is indeed an oranges person. She’s reined in the questioning mind, seeking simplicity instead, which she deems more suitable for herself because her partner is just that. He is different on most counts, right from his upbringing to his priorities to his goals, ideals, struggles and virtues. His acceptance of her life makes her think that these are unimportant variables in the equation.

The calendar time she’s spent with him take a toll on her sensibilities, as she tries to steer clear of uncertainly that looms large on her relationship. They don’t share as much of an emotional, intellectual or spiritual connect. However much she tries to deny the fact that she is an apples person while he remains an oranges person, she finds it hard to change her natural self. Although a person can, with time and effort, change most superficial aspects of their life, they can probably never change their fundamental characteristics.

This philosophy, explained best with this example, portrays how people want to lead a life different from what they really need. They tell themselves that they cannot live without a relationship; that they want to party with the glitterati, know and be known to everyone in social circles three levels from themselves, drink every night, do an MBA, have a Page3 boyfriend, do something different in their careers and in their lives. Maybe they don’t need all these things. Perhaps what would keep them happy is if they’re single; having a quiet drink on the weekend with friends that don’t just listen to them waiting for their turn to speak but do care to actually listen; doing a non managerial job, being in a relationship with someone that just understands them and just doing things conventionally for a change.

There are several people that continue on this path, even with the knowledge of this concept, trying to ignore the inescapable. And seldom do the choices of treading down this path pay as handsomely as they’d like to wish. People spend a good part of their lives trying to convince themselves that they can mould themselves to be something else, rarely ever realizing that they are perfectly all right just the way they are, except that they don’t fit as perfectly with some things as they’d hoped. Yet people live on, hiding behind their mental projection of themselves, insecure about their true identities and faking happiness all their life…