The Brutal and the Kind

Every night, I hear someone talking to me. Softly in  my ears, yes I think in my ears, but I am not sure. It just feels like I am absorbed into something, where the words are penetrating me, like through a sponge. I have often thought about it, about the "person" talking to me, but his words are so prevalent, I find it difficult to concentrate on his entity. Rather, I listen to him.

I am 45 years old, placed just right in what the society calls, the Middle Age boat. And its been years I have been listening to him. Sometimes he is too demanding, sometimes soft, and other days, he is just there; Present. But he is there all the time, watching me.

I wonder how he knows everything about me. Even those things I might have secretly fancied about, or the dread of some mysterious object which perhaps I had never embodied. I never feared him, not until that day.

I was 16. Youthful, inquisitive, charming, the dream boy of several girls of my age. In short, just Perfect. I had a dream of my own, to get into the best engineering school of the country. I knew I was smart enough, there was just one thing that concerned me. My best friend was my worthiest adversary.

The day was not far off when we would sit for the exam of our lifetime. Tuitions, notes and revisions captivated us, stealing even the miniscule of time spared for enjoyment. I worked on the problems with my best friend till one day, he fell ill. We were just 10 days away from the E-day and there he was on the bed, the flu withering away his body. I feared he would miss the exam, and prayed to someone every night(I was and am not exactly a theist) that he would recover soon.

One day (a week before the exam), my brother surprised me with an email, and I should say, I had never loved my brother like that before as I did on that day. The mail contained a set of questions prepared by some friends in his network, who were attending my dream school. It was a master list, with key questions that had a 90% chance to appear on the exam. Suddenly I felt weak inside, as if I was nothing without that list, I had no hope whatsoever to get through the exam without those set of questions. Someone whispered to me "This can make you win"; it was not a familiar voice, but what it said made me feel stronger. I was happy that day. And mildly fearful. That night, I could not sleep. I did not pray.

Just the day before exam, my best friend called me up to ask about my progress. He was much better and was going to appear for the exam the next day. I was too occupied memorizing the master list, and could not talk much. He asked if I had learned something new. I lied.

That lie never felt like worth a penny of guilt when the results came out. I had made it into my dream school and not just made it, I stood amongst the toppers who had all the privilege to choose the stream they wanted to get into. My best friend did make it in the lower ranks, and chose not to take admission in that school. I    missed him for sometime, the fun we used to have together, but I am not aware if I ever missed his competition. On that front, I was rather relieved.

I wouldn't say that I had a euphoric life since, but I did wear the shoes which millions would aspire to be in. And after successfully serving a multi-national company and having built a house for my family, the doom's day cast its shadow upon me. I was laid off without any distinctions for the drops of sweat I had shed for the company over all these years.

It did not feel like the end. It felt like several years of life had been rewinded and I stood there at the entrance of the examination room. Someone reminded me of my friend. It was the same voice that was with me all the time, talking to me all these years. He was calm, always, even if I avoided listening to him. I realized only then, that he was not the only one watching me. There was someone else, I had heard him that day. I had obeyed him. He made me lie.

That night was appalling. I was amidst an argument, a stronger, more familiar voice, trying to convince me, to make me realize my mistakes, and a meeker, but more imposing, making me believe that I was always right. I could not find a way out of that strife, no matter how hard I tried. It was more than just a shadow; it was like a parasite.

Those arguments had become more frequent. They were there mostly when I was alone, but sometimes they even captured me in a crowd. I don't know how they did it, how they found me, even when I was with people. The worse part was, I was losing my capacity to think. I was waiting till one of them decides something for me. I had become dependent on someone.

Suffering with these painful mind games for several days, one fine  day I received a call for interview in an esteemed company. I got it through a reference. This was The opportunity, I knew, and an impulsive voice bellowed, "Grab it with whatever you have". I worked hard, prepared and kept myself engaged in studies to avoid listening to any arguments. Unusually, and thankfully, there were none throughout this time.

On the morning of the interview, the news from my neighbors apprehended all the emotions one could imagine. The uncle staying next to us, was a dear friend, and a reverent person, very close to our hearts. He had suffered a major heart attack and had to be taken to the hospital immediately. I was the first person at hand, and perhaps the only one there who they could blindly trust. The issue was, I had to make a decision. I depended on someone.

There were arguments again. And this time they were all the more painful. Pain smeared with the feeling of emptiness, with the incapacity of not being able to think, with a guilt of something, with the love and trust my neighbor had for me, and such numerous things. It was no more a one to one brawl; I felt like the insect trapped mercilessly in the web ready to be consumed. Or perhaps I was already on the way to consumption.

Two voices, which was which, I could not tell. Both were imposing today. One forced me to rush to my neighbor and the other made me think of my interview. And suddenly I found someone pulling my arm and carrying me forward out of the door. My steps were moving across the lawn towards my neighbor's house. I felt like someone breaking into the web and saving me. I realized my ambience just when I saw the uncle lying motionless on his bed. Abruptly, the shrill sound of aunty's cries penetrated my ears and that was the only voice I could hear. My daughter had rescued me.

I drove him to the hospital and stayed there, till the operation was done and we received the news of his successful revival. I felt happy and calm. Everything around me endured silence. It was all enigmatic.

I missed my interview that day. And it has been 5 months since I received another call. But one thing has surely happened. I feel free; free from the one watching me. And I feel safe, strong and independent. There have been no more arguments, and my sleeps are painless. At 45, I am no more a toy of the brutal and the kind; I believe in myself and make my own decisions. I have become the "Master of my Soul".

Ek Sitara

Sham ek sitara…

dhundlate aasman mein….

kuch dheere kuch sehme….

bin awaz kiye…

is zameen ko dekhta…

kabhi badal se jhakta…

kabhi chand ki roshni ko odhta…

wo chota sitara….

Sochta…

ye dharti…pyari sunahri…

hazaron rango se saji….

zindagi ko roshan karti….

ye paani ye mitti ye hawa…

sab kuch to hai tere paas…

main ek rang ka…..

akela is jahan mein….

anjane saikdon ke beech…

apni hi roshni mein kho sa jata hoon main….

Is roshni mein dekhta hoon tujhe…

to ehsaas hota hai…

main akela khud mein hi jeeta hoon…

par tujhe kya kami hai…

kyu tu apno ke saath hokar bhi meri roshni se zinda hai…

Facets of life: The tale of Anna Karenina

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."

Oscar Wilde

Such is the tale of Anna Karenina, a lady blessed with the beauty and charm of an angel, embellished with a heart of pure innocence. Her persona reflects her inner beauty embodying kindness and forgiveness and her positive outlook towards life. But as it is said: Life is simple, its just not easy. This classic by Tolstoy represents the mosaic of romance and tragedy that reveals the truth of life; led by some, and mere existence for others.

Anna is a woman of immense admiration. She is a part of the affluent society surrounded by the well-to-do crowd, and is a dignified personality. Less do others know about her sufferings in personal life. Married to an aristocrat, much older than her, she is not so fortunate to receive enough love, care or attention from her husband. Mother to a very charming son, she devotes all her time to him, trying to forget her pain. There comes a moment in her life when things change; love enters her life in the form of Vronsky, a noble squire, who loves her truely and deeply. She falls for him and leaves her family, with high hopes of finding joy and love in future life. What confronts her is the price she pays for the want of love.

The story also unfurls the life of Levin, a country man, simple and somewhat unorthodox, who looks out for love in his life and is successful to find one, inspite of several downfalls. Even with his life complete as one can imagine, he is not happy, not content and seeks for a purpose in his life; a reason to live.

This classic not only draws out parallel between the lives of these two characters, but also contemplates the issues that are deep-rooted in the 'world of norms' called society. There is this lady, who choses love over a dormant relation, who sacrifices her celebrated image and becomes an emblem of mockery; and then there is her brother, who maintains his noble stature in the same society with the life of a philanderer. The way a woman is punished for her preferences in life and made to suffer is brought out very well through small instances.

There are illustrations of the relations between a master and his peasants, between men and women holding different statures in society, between brothers and sisters, between mother and child. Each case makes you ponder on the essence of the relation, where people make mistakes and how a relation evolves with the surrounding circumstances. It is a beautiful portray of the human disposition in different roles played in life.

As the story proceeds, there are changes in the lives of Anna and Levin, and both of them end up in a similar situation, where they struggle in finding answer to a question: "What is the purpose of my life?" They both find solutions, one in living it, one in leaving it.

"Sometimes questions are more important than answers"....so rightly stated by Nancy Willard, makes me think how important the question was in their lives that compelled them to take separate paths; and it is amazing to see how distinct the answers could be to the same question. The novel is an epitome of classic literature, surmising both the beauty and the hideousness of every human heart, which collectively builds the society. More than all, it makes you feel lucky, to be born as a part of the new generation, and aware of at least one reason which drives your dreams. If not, you can still find a purpose, because life, thats how it is. It just goes on. 

Almost "everything"

When I started reading it, I couldn’t remember how I came across it. But what I really knew was that it was all over and around me. I was too occupied reading it, was recommending it to all my friends, became my first choice as a gift to someone, and actually gifted a copy to a professor of my university. I loved the book, each and every part of it, and all the way was trying to figure out-“How the hell did I find out about it?” It wasn’t a million dollar question though, but human inquisitiveness is such that it never wants to forget the reasons why it loves or hates something. The question was finally answered with a statement that I hit upon while nearing the end of the book:


“There are three stages in scientific discovery: first, people deny that it is true; then they deny that it is important; finally they credit the wrong person.”

A distinguished professor made use of this statement in his lecture, which I attended by chance. I was intrigued by the appropriateness of the sentence and followed the reference to it, which happened to be a book written by Bill Bryson, titled: ‘A Short History of Nearly Everything’. Not to mention, I grabbed a copy from my library and spent the next few days reading it. And I should admit it was worth the read.

The title of the book itself is the catch. When you think about 'everything', your imagination could fly places, and you would be tempted to read just to know what exactly does ‘everything’ means. Here, 'everything' can be construed as all that is responsible for the existence of earth and life. Now you would say why, there is the Big Bang Theory, and all the evolution philosophies.  So here comes the author with a different version of all that you have known till now. In his words:

“This is a book about how it happened-in particular how we went from there being nothing at all to there being something, and then how a little of that something turned into us, and also some of what happened in between and since.”

He strikes with the emerging of the universe, how it sprang from almost nothing, and what was the main idea behind the Big Bang. He talks about everything- from Einstein’s world to Darwin’s, from the mightiness of an atom to the fragility of human race. Almost all forms of sciences have been discussed, including physics, chemistry, biology, mathematics and geology, and he has managed to connect these different fields really well in seeking answers to questions which probably no one bothers to answer.

It is wonderful to note the curiosity with which the author approaches each faction of life. He looks at it from a non-scientific perspective, and it is quite amusing to see the way he perceived science in school. According to him:

”It was as if [the textbook writer] wanted to keep the good stuff secret by making all of it soberly unfathomable.”

Apart from the in-depth discussions on various questions, there are several facts mentioned in the book which would leave you flabbergasted. For instance, I came to know of particular names that were behind some marvelous discoveries and should have been credited, but they just got lost amidst competition, animosity, stubbornness and sometimes, indigence.

But nevertheless, it is a science book. The examples, experiences and views shared here are sure to captivate you, and make you look at things with a different eye. I am tempted to put down some of the quotes which I liked personally (some of them might be really long):

"Every atom you possess has almost certainly passed through several stars and been part of millions of organisms on its way to becoming you. We are each so atomically numerous and so vigorously recycled at death that a significant number of our atoms-upto a billion for each of us, it has been suggested-probably once belonged to Shakespeare. A billion more came from Buddha and Genghis Khan and Beethoven, and any other historical figure you care to name. So we are all reincarnations-though short lived ones."

"If you imagine the 4,500-bilion-odd years of Earth's history compressed into a normal earthly day, then life begins very early, about 4 A.M., with the rise of the first simple, single-celled organisms, but then advances no further for the next sixteen hours. Not until almost 8:30 in the evening, with the day five-sixths over, has Earth anything to show the universe but a restless skin of microbes. Then, finally, the first sea plants appear, followed twenty minutes later by the first jellyfish and the enigmatic Ediacaran fauna first seen by Reginald Sprigg in Australia. At 9:04 P.M. trilobites swim onto the scene, followed more or less immediately by the shapely creatures of the Burgess Shale. Just before 10 P.M. plants begin to pop up on the land. Soon after, with less than two hours left in the day, the first land creatures follow. 
Thanks to ten minutes or so of balmy weather, by 10:24 the Earth is covered in the great carboniferous forests whose residues give us all our coal, and the first winged insects are evident. Dinosaurs plod onto the scene just before 11 P.M. and hold sway for about three-quarters of an hour. At twenty-one minutes to midnight they vanish and the age of mammals begins. Humans emerge one minute and seventeen seconds before midnight. The whole of our recorded history, on this scale, would be no more than a few seconds, a single human lifetime barely an instant. Throughout this greatly speeded-up day continents slide about and bang together at a clip that seems positively reckless. Mountains rise and melt away, ocean basins come and go, ice sheets advance and withdraw. And throughout the whole, about three times every minute, somewhere on the planet there is a flash-bulb pop of light marking the impact of a Manson-sized meteor or one even larger. It's a wonder that anything at all can survive in such a pummeled and unsettled environment. In fact, not many things do for long." 

"It is a slightly arresting notion that if you were to pick yourself apart with tweezers, one atom at a time, you would produce a mound of fine atomic dust, none of which had ever been alive but all of which had once been you."

"Protons give an atom its identity, electrons its personality." 

“If this book has a lesson, it is that we are awfully lucky to be here-and by “we” I mean every living thing. To attain any kind of life in this universe of ours appears to be quite an achievement. As humans we are doubly lucky, of course: We enjoy not only the privilege of existence but also the singular ability to appreciate it and even, in a multitude of ways, to make it better. It is a talent we have only barely begun to grasp."

"It is easy to overlook this thought that life just is. As humans we are inclined to feel that life must have a point. We have plans and aspirations and desires. We want to take constant advantage of all the intoxicating existence we've been endowed with. But what's life to lichen? Yet its impulse to exist, to be, is every bit as strong as ours—arguably even stronger. If I were told that I had to spend decades being a furry growth on a rock in the woods, I believe I would lose the will to go on. Lichens don't. Like virtually all living things, they will suffer any hardship, endure any insult, for a moment's additional existence. Life, in short, just wants to be." 

Mentioning about the doomsyear 2012, he says:

“We have been chosen, by fate or providence or whatever you wish call it. As far as we can tell, we are the best there is. We may be all there is. It’s an unnerving thought that we may be the living universe’s supreme achievement and its worst nightmare simultaneously.”

“….I mention all this to make the point that if you were designing an organism to look after life in our lonely cosmos, to monitor where it was going and keep a record of where it has been, you wouldn’t chose human beings for the job.”

So, though not exactly everything as one can imagine, the book talks about everything that is truly responsible for our existence. I might just take another opportunity to read it again, for those who haven’t, give it a shot. You will not regret.

IPL 2011: Law of diminishing returns?

The Indian Premier League is the new fashion statement in the game of cricket. Not only has it commercialized the sport, the IPL, has redefined businesses altogether. Since 2008, its impact on the Indian market has been colossal. Money flowing into the hands of BCCI and the B industry surviving the drought, opportunities increasing by leaps and bounds for the local companies, beating the MNCs in the run, and the TRP's snatched away from the burdened family dramas-the facts say it all. With its fourth season in progress, and an outstanding $4 billion at stake, who would have imagined that this new generation fast-track game will lose its ground to a single ODI match that created history.

India crowned as the world champions was a sempiternal moment for every Indian. I felt happy, and more than that, content. Finally, we had the trophy. It was the satisfaction of a hungry stomach fed with the most delicious food. A funny comparison though, but was justified when the full stomach was served with more food. I felt the same when the IPL started. It was difficult to take in more.

Since the first day of this year's IPL, I have not been very enthusiastic about it. My attitude towards it won't harm the game in any way, but as a cricket fan, it is disastrous. The most I know about this year's IPL is that there are 10 teams, and I support Chennai Super Kings. I never bothered to know the players playing in each team, or the schedule of the tournament (though I managed to keep a track of my team's performance). I was disappointed with myself, on being so unjust towards the one thing I am passionate about, and then I realized that it was not me but the economics that was responsible. 

IPL though has proven to be a profitable venture, has failed to hold its stand in the heart of Indian public this year. Its not the love for the game that has been lost somewhere, its just too much cricket out there. It looks like IPL has become that factor of the cricket business which might tend to reduce the profits for the owners, as well as the sponsors. An article in Cricinfo states that IPL 2011 has not been able to capture enough attention as before, and its viewer ratings are going down the slope. I have noticed people tweeting and commenting on facebook about their lack of interest in IPL. The main culprit certainly is the cricket overflow, but that is not all. There are few other reasons which I think are also responsible for the downplay of the IPL.

The New face: The reshuffling, overturning, and trading of new players in the teams has left the audience in confusion. Yuvraj, the hearthrob and the apple of the Punjab Kings XI is now the Captain of Pune Warriors. The silent storm Gambhir of Delhi is now leading Kolkata. The single personality to stir the whole of Bengal, Ganguly, is kicked out of his home team. These are just a couple to mention. The introduction of several local players, and calling in new international players have made the teams less familiar to the people. It is a good thing to try out, for the benefit of all teams perhaps, but for this season's business, might not help.

The Complex fixtures: The format of this year's IPL will kill your nerves. I read about it several times and still feel perplexed. Too many games, teams divided into two groups, groups invisible as such on the chart, and the pattern of home and away games, it has just spilled over the mess already there. 

Though the IPL has managed to prevent multiplexes from gathering audience, but it has failed to tempt either. The cricket fans have got what they wanted, and are pleased about it. But the stifling atmosphere caused by too many games stacked together is making it lose all the charm. After the World cup victory, MS Dhoni said in his interview, that it all began with the 1983 World Cup which instilled the passion for this game among people and strive so hard for winning it. Now that the Cup is ours, people would look forward to different things and other sports would probably gain attention. That day I thought, what crap. Today I think, he was right.

World Cup 2011: A moment to remember

When eleven talented, dedicated, emotional, motivated and determined people, with an opportunity at hand, decide to prove themselves, there probably could be no force powerful enough to stop them. And the outcome of this passionate effort is before us- the Cricket World Cup of 2011.

Just two days ago, the world witnessed a dream coming to life, that ended in a joyful truth. And what a dream it had been. Shared by millions, over the generations, by the most experienced to most naive, by the cream and the milk. This was the one dream that made people think about India as a nation and not as an aggregation of states. And when the dream turned into reality, it seemed that the diversity had molded into unity, all the different religions had merged into one, all the languages expressed just one emotion, and the land of a billion people had formed a country.What more could have been asked for? 

I am one of the unknowns from the crowd who were glued to their TV screens trying to capture each and every moment of the dream-come-true journey. For the first time since I left India 3 years ago, I felt so miserable not to be a part of that crowd who could cheer every ball and every run of the match.  It is then when I realized what it meant to be on the Indian soil.

My time started here at 3.00 a.m. when the pre-match presentations began. There was not a second of the glamor I wanted to miss, and I woke up after a 2 hour sleep, fresh and full of vigor. The National Anthem was overwhelming as ever, and instilled the sense of pride to an even greater extent. I was happy, proud, and confident, just by the thought that I had believed in my team throughout the tournament, and today I was watching them play the finals. Yes, it was my team. It was every Indian's team.

The uproar in the stadium was stupendous, as expected. I, as all other people not on-site, perhaps can never feel the same energy as they do in the stadium. But today was a different day. Thrill, anxiety, and aggression was flowing through our nerves. The way Zaheer kept the Sri-Lankan batsmen inside the trap was pumping up our blood even more. Sreesanth selection was always dubious, and he did disappoint, but then, the team spirit had also turned me into a positive thinker. And I believed in my team.

The Indian batting started with a blow. But as long as Sachin is out there, the entire cricket watching nation feels safe. This was the big match for him, and everyone believed that he would be giving his best performance. And then there was the scene most uncalled for. Sachin was declared out at 18. As if a wave of shock had blown away the cheers. Not only the screen was silent, the people watching the screen would have their hands on their faces. I had them on my head. The score was 32/2 India.

The Indian team with its performance had earned the reputation of the best batting side, and I believed that. But the score on board, the target to achieve, and the pressure of the final, can have ruinous impacts. The middle and lower order batsmen had often fallen like a pack of cards, and with the situation upfront, the heart would have skipped a beat. 

Then the way the match took form was a spectacular to watch. The composure of Gambhir, the support of Kohli, and then the quiet aggression of MS and Yuvi, made it look like a cake walk. They looked like the most patient and richly experienced batsmen the cricket arena has ever seen. With every run they took, the target became more and more achievable. And the end was a classic. The six hit by Dhoni and his swinging the bat in a gladiator style, had marked not the end of a match, but the beginning of a new chapter in the history of Indian cricket. India had emerged as the World Champions the second time after 28 years.

From this stage, it is hard to express the emotions that overflowed from my heart. It was nothing different from what rest of the Indians would be feeling, but I am sure the experience is unique to its own. In the excitement and jumping and dancing on the victory, I missed seeing the ecstatic moment on the field, but I managed to see it in the replay. Dhoni had a confused expression, and I somehow understood it. Yuvi was shedding his tears of joy, and all of us could feel his heart. All eyes were looking for Sachin, to get a glimpse of happiness on his face on this long waited achievement. Expressions of joy, somewhere in the form of dancing, and somewhere in the form of tears were spread all across the stadium. The team was seen to lift Sachin and carry all around the stadium with the Indian flag waved everywhere. Sachin was rapt amidst this honor and satisfaction all coming together. He had his share of joy with his kids coming down and walking with him on the ground.

All of us knew, it was 'THE' match for Sachin and team, and all of them had fought very hard to get it. But then, Kohli made the statement of the day, which, inspite of several articles mentioning it, I can't help writing down:

"We did this for Sachin. He has carried the burden of the nation for 21 years. It was time that we carried him on our shoulders". 

I always had it in mind, that Sachin would give in everything this time to get the title, and the team would do their best to be with him, but put that into words, it was an amazing feeling. The entire team had played for Sachin, to make his dream come true. They had shared his dream. 

I celebrated and celebrated. I wanted to be with Indians, to share that joy. I drove with my friends in the car, with the theme song playing in full volume and waving the Indian flag. I felt so proud. I felt satisfied.

Its been several hours since that moment, but it is still so much alive. And it will always be. I feel lucky enough to have witnessed this moment in my lifetime. I miss the Indian news channels and the newspapers that keep the moment vivid. But every time I open my laptop, the first thing I want to see is a picture of the jubilant moment, a statement made by a team member on the victory, an article written on this achievement. My team has done their job, they have excelled in their play and have made their country proud. And I have learned the lesson of my life: Patriotism is all about quietly doing your work and excelling in it. If it makes you proud, your country will be proud of you.