koolhead17
When you have decided to take a particular decision, you are in a man with a hammer syndrome. You will find all reason to nail blame.
Our life is too short; everyone is connected via the 6th degree of separation. This attitude does more harm to ourselves than others.
Our rationality goes for a toss. We are on subjective projection, and emotions rule over rationality.
I was reading a WSJ article on the death of Tony Hsieh, founder of Zappos. It makes me wonder how someone with all the achievements and accumulation had so much emptiness within. The article cites drug usage, alcohol consumption, and other methods Tony was experimenting with himself.
How much wealth or professional success matters when we are broken? What was Tony’s emptiness?
RIP Tony!
I have learned in the hard way of my 35+ years life journey: build relationships. I still screwup in many instances. I am still learning. I do have some friends, mentors who are around me, kicking me and cheering for me. If you don’t have one: better to spend your time on it instead of running after money. Self does not care about your bank deposits but the emptiness within yourself.
I want to become an IAS officer, said Mahesh.
A tall, healthy fellow wearing thick glasses welcomed me as I picked my Uber from the airport. I was returning from an early morning connecting flight from Mumbai.
Mahesh is from western Karnataka and studying a bachelor’s in history from correspondence. He asked me where I am from: I said Bihar, and he spoke about Magadh, Chandragupta, and Buddha. It was my history 101 about Bihar, which I loved. I was happily surprised as, for the first time, someone did not say bad things about Bihar.
Mahesh: Are you married?
Me: No
Mahesh: Why?
Me: Ladki bhag Gaye (Girl, ran away)
We both giggled for a few minutes afterward.
Mahesh came to Bangalore to earn his living and study. In the early days of the cab aggregators gold rush, one of the drivers from his village made a lot of money. The guy owns 30 cabs now and employs all the drivers from his home. He provides them food, shelter, and a salary of 15000 monthly.
Mahesh said he is preparing for his IAS exams. That is why he took arts and particularly history. Another reason is seeing the glorious past of our country. I have never seen anyone as proud as Mahesh. Was our past so glorious or written by the winners?
Our cab crossed Lalbagh, and Mahesh stopped for a tea and lit a cigarette. He has been on 14 hours of duty and was feeling drowsy.
Mahesh asked for my phone number, which I shared. I am waiting for his call to give me the news about clearing the UPSC exam. It has been two years now.
Come during day time, don’t take the late-night train, my maasi looked worried as she uttered this. She lives in a village which is 3 km from the nearby railway station. Summers in Bihar are painful because of heat, mosquitoes, power cuts.
I was done with my class 8th exams and had 60 days of holiday. I decided to see my maasi for a few weeks. They have mango orchards on many acres and nobody to eat. Maasi daughters were married and, their son was working in the metro. She lived with mausaji, who was a hermit.
Childhood makes you a rebel and, you would find pleasure in doing things seniors tell you not to do. I had my dinner at home and told mummy about visiting maasi. I promised her I would take the early morning train, not the night one. I was at the platform along with cows, dogs, mosquitoes, beggars, and an obese colony of rats.
Train running late has been a common occurrence. The 9 pm train was arriving at 11 pm. A train would stop at every village, thanks to frequent chain pulls. The two hours journey became three hours. It was pitch dark at the station. The only person carrying Laltan must have been the person on station duty. I should have stayed at the station and headed to maasi’s village in the morning, but I did not.
The night was dark, and crickets were playing orchestra. Once in a while, the foxes would howl too. After crossing the pipal tree and pokher (pond), I felt someone was following me. I stopped and looked back, and there was no one. I was shit scared and started reciting Hanuman Chalisa and thinking seriously if this was the reason why maasi asked me to come during day time.
Lady: Khaini hai kya beta? (Do you have some tobacco, son?)
Me: Aree amma, itne Raat Gaye khaine kahe khaoge? (Why do you need tobacco at this late?)
Lady: Kaini hai kya beta?
Me: Nahi hai.
I woke up with a dog licking my face and a swollen head. Was it coconut falling on my head, or someone hit me? I have no clue, but I realized I was in an unconscious state.
Maasi: Why so early? What train did you take? You could have come in the afternoon.
Me: Yeps.
I was too scared to tell her or anyone else about this incident so far. Thinking about that night still scares me.
I can’t live with your parents, said Nandini.
Ishan and Nandini got married after seven years of courtship. The intercaste marriage took a lot of convincing from both sides. Ishan met Nandini during their bachelor’s degree. Both work at consulting now and are financially settled.
Nandini’s great grandfather fought with Britishers during the Champaran movement. Her family is one of the wealthiest in Bihar, which ensured she gets the best of everything.
Ishan’s father retired from the army and settled in Gurgaon for over a decade. They are from Rohtak.
After six months of marriage, Nandini proposed to Ishan that they should move out. A pampered mama’s boy Ishan was clueless about what transpired this all.
Nandini: We can live on our own. I feel like living in a cage with a constant vigil.
Ishan: My parents are forward-thinking. You are making baseless accusations.
Nandini left for two weeks client visit abroad and was in limited communication with Ishan. It was the darkest patch of Ishan’s life.
The advantage of being a mama’s boy is that you can honestly share everything with your mother. He told mom his pain and cried.
A mother is a woman and knows, went through the same, got an apartment rented for them both, got a house key to Ishan. Nandini: Where are you taking me?
Ishan: To our house.
Nandini: You have lost your way. Are you sober?
After 45 minutes drive from the airport, they entered one of the townships. Nandini was sure that Ishan has lost. Did he just get fired or fought with his parents? On the 12th floor, Lakeview Ishan’s mother opened the door with Diya/aarti in her hand.
Ishan’s mother hugged Nandini and whispered, I am a woman before a mother. I respect your independence. Do visit us on Sunday’s for brunch. Nandini was speechless.
Nandini and Ishan had a son last year. It made Sunday’s more fun-filled for their ailing parents.
PS: It seldom happens in India. 🙂
A very few lucky ones in our country get the opportunity to figure things out. 99% of us are just running the rat race of earning, learning, and surviving. In India, we youngsters have no time to breathe, spend on ourselves. The treadmill of want begins right after college, fulfilling dreams or paying loans.
Only a few who are lucky ones, financially stable ones, get that opportunity to figure things out. In short: Dil kya Chahta hai? (what does your heart want). If you are part of this class, make the best of your times, get lost, wander, think, fail trying things.
We are living with our insecurity. About things, actions.
How can we live in the present if we dwell on our past, insecurities, and failures? Are we not making ourselves weak?
Our past is our teacher and, we can’t just sulk in it. We have to learn from it, so we are not repeating the same in our present.
Why do we have to live in the memories and get angry, waste sleepless nights? It is our insecurity. We have to fix it.
Socrates advised us about Know Thyself, but the world we are living in makes us ape from others. Our self is dead.
It took me four years to realize the power of optimization. A founder’s life is on a roller coaster. Someday an employee will leave, some other day customers, there will be days when you will feel like giving up, and another day your personal life will be a wreck. The sooner we accept and optimize for this scenario: making peace with the everyday chaos, we will feel less miserable.
Nothing in our life is permanent: even the billionaires with all their money die. They optimize their life expectancy better than the poor.
Seneca, the stoic philosopher who was poisoned by Nero, talks about how short our allocated span of life is. He suggests optimizing our life.
The lazy brain of mine has built its relater mechanism. Last Sunday, I met and had a conversation with a few people.
Some people find my relaters method for connection unconventional/stupid. But it works for me and, I don’t have to see my contact book or spend time recalling faces. It is like tags created in my head.
Ramkumar would be 5 ft tall, wearing a black kurta pajama, turban, and loverly smile on his face. He looked perfect for Instagram, just I had no smartphone, and we were in the Orkut era. He was preparing the fire as November evening gets much colder in north India.
I was with Ashish on our way to meet Vishal in Ajmer from Jaipur. We had a flat tire and were working on fixing it. It was a sort of ghost encounter in the middle of the highway, a sealed compound with disputed property written on the gate. The property was under litigation for over 30 years. Thanks to the Indian judiciary, the owner and chowkidar both had switched their generation. Ramkumar’s father passed on the job to him before taking his last breath.
Me: Bhaiya paani milega?
Ramkumar: Ekdum milega Saheb.
Ramkumar lives with his wife Radha and Eight years old daughter Munia. Munia never misses her school. Munia was singing, dancing, and hyperactive like other kids of her age. She wants to be a scientist and like APJ Abdul kalam.
Ashish: Abe salle, Kahan Mar Gaya. (That was for me since I was busy with Ramkumar, instead of helping him)
Me: Aaza chai Pete hai.
Radha got us some onion pakora, chai and Ramkumar set a hookah. Next 30 mins I was zoned out. Was it their selfless hospitality or, was I high over hookah? I can’ recall. Ashish joined us after replacing the tire and giving me all the crazy looks.
I offered some money to Ramkumar, which he turned down. His words are still fresh in my ears.
Ramkumar: Garib paise se hai, Dil se Nahi. (poor with money, not the heart)
My eye went numb, and I hugged him and forcefully put the money in his pocket for Munia’s sake. I told him to buy some toffee for her.
For a change, I prayed for the property to remain disputed for years to come. It will ensure shelter for Ramkumar and his family. Munia must have grown up by now. I hope she ended up fulfilling her dreams. Most women in our country live life on the dreams, checklists, matches defined by their parents.