Auto

Ramana lost his wife during 2nd wave of COVID19. There is a void; he cannot fill. He was under severe depression and, at times, thought of ending his life. He consoles himself that he did everything by his means, from running to a hospital to bribing for a hospital bed or paying an inflated price to oxygen cylinders to taking immediate cash by depositing gold.

Ramana’s daughter, Mala, lives in England with her family and a 10-year-old child. She could not attend her mother’s last rites due to lockdown. She has been persuading her father to move with them. But Ramana being a free bird, likes living on his terms, essentially freedom.

I was sitting with Ramana and smoking bidi near Basawangudi Bull Temple while appreciating the beauty of garland-laden newly purchased auto. He told me that I had to wait till 9:30 am to join him on the maiden ride. The priest has not come yet for puja.

I asked Ramana, what was the need for driving an auto, he could relax, read and be with himself on which Ramana interrupted saying, he has no plans of dying in boredom and loneliness. He likes talking, mingling with the crowd, and eating at the old shops. Ramana’s daughter Mala wanted to buy him a car, but Ramana wanted an auto. It requires less maintenance and is more mobile.

I could see his eyes being numb and, he confessed educating her daughter was the best decision of his life. He is not worried about his survival. His end meets are taken care of by Mala. This auto-driving is to keep him active.

I had a customer meeting at 9, so I left wishing Ramana good luck. I am hopeful of riding on his auto someday and continue our conversation.

Auroville

I remember visiting Auroville in 2012. My friend Igor was heading their internal IT infrastructure there. It was Open Source Technology that made us friends. I had a great couple of days stay there. Most of the time was learning their technology implementation and evening picking some beer and talking. I have not been a follower of any ideology, sect since early childhood. I feel we are all part of this vast universe where our significance hardly matters.

I was too high in my spirits to care about Utopia or social experiment or commune at that time. I do remember seeing Matraimandir while entering the premises. In my early 20’s, philosophy or spirituality was miles away from me. It was more about figuring out and fighting with my hormones to keep me sane.  

Last week I picked up “Better to have Gone” by Akash Kapur.

  1. It talks about the foundation of Auroville. How things changed after the founder  Mirra Alfassa (known as “the Mother”) died. 
  2. The worship, faith of a couple on “the Mother”; resulted in their death.
  3. The stakeholder’s infighting. Who should run and control Auroville?
  4. It also talks about the CIA running a secret LSD experiment in the early days. 
  5. The plight of youngsters. The newborns and missing parents. 

I don’t know the author personally. I understand his writing comes from the research, meetings, and his wife. They have grown up at Auroville those days. Also, I am no judge for giving readers a rating on it. I liked reading the book. The way events are explained, how true or false are they: I don’t know. 

From my limited knowledge, every cult, sect, Utopia requires a guru, die-hard followers who think they will find purpose in their life following the guru, and lots of money. Was or Is Auroville any different? I don’t know. 

Someone on a thread below has added their take. Feel free to check it.

faith

Sometimes I wonder if faith is a poison. In another instance, I feel the survival of ours depends on faith. We divided ourselves on these faiths.

The byproduct of faith ended up being a religion or worshipping some sect or joining some cult. Our upbringing or environment has a role in picking the faith.

Some of us end up living with it. Our food practices, worshipping, attachments and aversions, faith has a role.

As an outsider, seeing other practice their faith, which we are not part of, might sound absurd. But who are we to have or keep a judgment? Are we not in a free world? Are we all not unique?

Our faith and the path we pick to continue the journey of our lives are ours.

Time

There is time for everything, something elders told me in the past. I see the point in it. The fast pace of our generation has made us more machine.

There is an app for everything: eat, walking, exercising, etc. We built machines for leisure. We are now a slave to it.

Our betterment is nothing but a never-ending automated, machine governed checklist. What happened to automation adding idleness to our life?

We have time for everything but not ourselves.

passion

Passion has become poison and, marketers, brands or, gurus are minting money out of it and propagates over various social media platforms or page3 or via YouTube.

The side effect: everyone is passionate about everything because they are chasing their peers. Passion has ended up becoming an invisible unicorn.

True passion comes from within, not lying to self and acting upon seeing others.

But our marketers have found a way for that too. Once you fail with passion, get into burnout mode, then pay a therapist or buy more from E-commerce without needing.

Cricket

Those were the pre-liberalization days when Television or Telephone or, Scooters were for riches. In our village, we had a family with a television. They also had a battery backup. After all, electricity was scarce too.

Those days, Sharjah Cricket tournaments were hot. By some magic or betting, India and Pakistan would always end up in the finals. I was living in my village with my grandma those days. And like everyone else, cricket was a religion for me. We had early dinner and, we were at Ramesh Kaku’s (uncle) house. We had our spot on the chattai(mat) in the verandah. Most village elders men were there. The place smelled like a bus stand with paan, bidi, hookah, and tobacco smells all around.

Ramesh Kaku(uncle) owned the television. He returned after retiring from the Army. His mustache reminds me of a pigtail, an angry man, high on spirits from the army canteen.

India won the toss and elected to bat. After the first 15 overs, it felt we were in a commanding position. We had lost no wickets. We had runs too. Every single run scored was cheered up. Some of us would scream, stand up and do a parallel commentary, advising players. Our elders would tell them to sit and enjoy the game.

After four hours of a nail-biter, India lost. My impulsive cousin Mahesh went and broke the television screen. A cloud of smoke with a smell was all around us. We were all speechless.

We had the sadness of India losing. Now with the television screen gone, another pain. Ramesh Kaku shouted, maro maro (beat him) and, Mahesh got a thrashing. He was laughing, not sure it was bhang or sadness of money he lost in betting.

route

A founder’s life is a roller coaster ride, someday painful while another with happy surprises. There is no end to it. One has to be or act like a router between customers, team, and other stakeholders. In the end, a founder is responsible for the journey of the rocketship. They decide and take the route they would like to: build another copycat product or venture into new territory with fearlessness.

Our life throws us all the choices. It rests on us which to pick: falling to FOMO is easy, giving up is easy but riding in equanimity and taking care of the crew is what matters most.

It is like traveling on a route with a limited map as an explorer and, everything that matters, in reality, is the journey.

If some founders say they know the end, either they are lying or are clueless.

Sahara

Sahare ki talaash me zindgi gujar zati hai kuch ki,
kuch dafan ho zate hai adheer umer me.

Apni iss zindgi ka humne aisa kya kiya zo zindgi zahanuum se mehsoon hoti hai hame akele?

Kya ye hum hai jo dar-bedar bhatak rahe hai apne chaahat liye, ya ye zamaana hai jo kar raha hai hame gumraah?

Ye bhag dauud bheer chal ke maffik mehsoos karta hun auroo ko bhagta dekh ke.

Hum apne taqdeer khuda se mang sakte hai , phir ek sahare ke liye kyun bhatak rahe hai dar-dar begahar?

Kyu khud ko khud se itne taqleef hai jo zindgi jine ke liye sahare ki khooj me nikal padte hai hum?

Mine

I have been seeing a trend where we define an invisible wall defining mine and yours. It results in creating a divide and resulting in chaos.

We add my name to everything: friends, work, loved ones, or our wealth.

The constant urge of multiplying mine or keeping control of it is making us worried or vulnerable.

Life is more about freedom, not control or ownership. The sooner we realize it, the lesser we will be vulnerable.

Converse

I remember how attracted I was to converse shoes. From my first salary, I visited Sarojini Nagar market and bought half a dozen colors of it. Among all, I liked the red one most. I was watching too many vampires movies those days and attribute my likings to it.

What I am going to tell you will sound funnier. I went on my maiden US trip in my red converse. I decided to put my foot in the land of opportunity wearing it.

My excitement was short-lived. At the airport, my sister and brother-in-law met me. They asked my reason for wearing red shoes. I told them because I like the color. They inquired if I am attracted to males, to which I politely said No. I was surprised but inquired how the color of the shoe defines my sexual preference. He said it sends a signal. Next, I was in Walmart for a shoe purchase.

All ten days of my stay in America, my red converse shoe lived in my suitcase. I did not mention it to anyone. And when I returned, airlines had swapped my luggage, and it had gone to Eastern Siberia. The airlines asked about my loss, and I was speechless.

I was happy that if not me, my converse went to meet the Eskimoes and penguins. I was in the US to attend a Linux conference and, my red shoe went to meet penguins.

I told my then GF about the encounter and, we laughed for a few hours over beer and bidi. Next week, she had another pair of shoes for me. I think she had her internship paying her well.