Sunday, November 18, 2018

The Show Must Go On..

Image result for bohemian rhapsody




Gnarly and twisted concepts filled my head as I looked at my phone and booked the much anticipated movie - Bohemian Rhapsody. Over the course of the last few days, I had been battling with the concepts of love, family, friendship, exclusivity and future. All are interlinked and ladder onto the final benefit of happiness - itself an illusive realm.

Somewhere down the road, life tells you that expectations are always meant to be unmet - or be un-mated. Convergence of hopes, dreams and expectations for the future are a folly - a mere futility.

As I made my way to the movie theater, my fevered body processed the slight nip in the wind with alarming degrees. Seemed to corroborate to the overall mood and myopia.

The 2 hours of magical spell left me breathless. From start to end, I devoured every scene - like the hungry teen who has been left  bereft of Freddie's shadow. Unbeknownst, I realized, in one way or the way, Queen had its heart-prints imprinted all over my life. I have grown up with this music, with this school of thought and with this wonder.

The film starts first and foremost with the quest and question of BELONGING. Home by default is the belonging zone for many - but for a few, its a jail where you feel like a misfit. ESCAPE then becomes the only and lonely adventure to thrust the vagrant spirit into carving out a niche for itself.

Freddie never belonged - the feeling of void alone the stoke for his creative fire where he let loose his ire. He found a home in Mary - but the next question of SEXUALITY stole his nest.

Yet, he found a cocoon by way of GOOD FRIENDS in Mary along with his band members. The film then moves down the trajectory of discovering GOOD vs BAD FRIENDS.

The question of IDENTITY soon looms larger than life - all consuming in its flame, as Freddie grapples with time-lines, emotions, sexual borders and fleeting people to make sense of his own reality. What must be created, what already exists and what must be projected - the myriad questions hover around his own self-denial / acceptance of himself.

Here I take recourse to my own  mind meanderings - highlighted by certain facets in the movie. Jim Hutton tells Freddie - to be loved, one has to love himself. True. Often we find ourselves hurtling down paths laid down by others - understanding the pathos of our own loss of control over our own reality but we are forced to live / re-live the compromise. We make believe that the fantasy world we are led through by the alpha wolf, is a beta war-path : our own emblazoned love beating in our hearts, a self-effacing war-cry.

In our lifetimes, we often meet people - God fearing themselves but unafraid to play God-men. They cheat themselves of the epithet of a Rainmaker - true. They make hay while the rain pours - from another's eyes.

The concept of friendship is either transient or transparent to the point of being non-existent. As I have grown older, not only has my friends circle shrunk to a miserable threesome - but within that too, I sense distance, malice and truancy. Or, is it all my imagination? See - we all fight with the quest for identity - closely linked with our immediate circles - real or virtual.

You keep questioning - who is there for you truly? Who is the real friend - not always in need or deed but just someone who respects the "being" in and of time?

Belonging - we yearn for that perfect home to enconsce ourselves - leaving our conscience behind. The mighty Almighty question of home is plighty - is it a person, a place or a combination of both? What if, the person you thought as home disappears - does the structure you return back from work to, cease to be your home or shelter? Does it not wrap you up in its essence - envelope you in its warmth? Was it not a home you'd once created too - with the departed soul before the latter became a soul-less ghoul?

In the tide of times, where do we begin and end? What makes us be us and to what extent are we really in control of our own lives? What makes us happy these days or is sadness the predominant emotion that engulfs as it separates reality from fantasy?


Yet we trudge on. Darkened by the darkness - set alight by the brightness of our own innate being-ness. The Show Must Go On.





Wednesday, October 10, 2018



The unknown companion.....


Midnight is not exactly anyone’s dream hour to be behind the wheels trying to juggle two seemingly contrasting jobs at the same time - driving and sleeping.  However as history has it (at least since automobiles were introduced), every once in a while, a true braveheart must undertake this hypnotic act and literally live to tell the tale.

This past weekend destiny (read my Travel Plans) decided to hand me this task and judge if I could live up to its daunting challenges.  Like every Don Quixote  who has had that “one for the road” extra drink, I decided to take up the challenge and considered it an act of weakness to succumb to the somnolent desires. So at midnight, here I was zipping and swirling through the “video game like” labyrinth of Interstate Highways and Freeways of Texas while Hypnos the God of Sleep and his half brother Thanatos the God of Death ferociously fought over who should get my final “custody”.  Fortunately for me and unfortunately for many of you, Thanatos and MS Dhoni both were later found drinking at the same bar and licking their failure wounds as I lived on…..

So, on this entrancing ride to the Beaver Bend State Park as I was juggling with my cell phone, my GPS (which refuses to form a bond with the dashboard), and a water bottle ---  at one enlightening moment, I realized that after a long time in my driving career, I was the only “one” on the road. This was a single lane state highway, with no lights, large fields bordering it on both sides and no one in sight. I quickly glanced around and looked in all mirrors to spot some signs of human existence, but all in vain. This gave me a glimpse of how Mars Rover might be feeling every day. However even Rovers has the excitement of unpaved roads and a distant communicative companion(s) in “Houston”.  I did not have that luxury !!

A moment after I realized my lonely existence, the ubiquitous sadist in me quizzed me in a Rapid fire round……

Do you have fuel in the car?...

Is it enough?..............

Do you have Cash in your pocket?.........

When did you last check the air pressure?....

 Why did you not get the “Check Engine” light checked?….

Did you renew your AAA membership? …..

Is your insurance card updated?............

Does your cell phone have coverage? ….

What if your car breaks down here?........

Where is the damn flashlight?......

What about the dead body in the boot?.... ok maybe that was in some movie…. But the others rang loud and clear in a few seconds.

Now as I tried to appease the sadist in me and convince him that “Aaalll izzz well”, I stopped juggling with my electronics and also instinctively took my foot off the gas pedal. My convincing of the inner voices might not have been that effective as some sense of insecurity still loomed in the mind. I obviously kept on driving confused if I should attempt to enjoy the serenity or hope that none of the fears actually come true. As I have trained myself to do over the years, I went through a series of “What ifs?” and realized that even if the car was to suddenly come to a screeching halt in the middle of this lonely road at this unearthly hour, I would be able to manage the “disaster”. That helped a little to calm down and keep driving, ----- not that stopping was an alternative in any case.

I must have driven a few miles in that confused state of mind, not realizing fully that this had actually helped me become fully awake and aware.  As I went downhill on the road, I saw a set of headlights appear on the horizon of my rear view mirror. In the otherwise pitch darkness they were hard to miss, rising from behind the hill – sunrise of a different kind! And suddenly I had company…. a fellow traveler, a mile away from me. Weirdly enough, I suddenly felt not only some relief but also a strange connection. I slowed down enough so that the car catches up and stays in my rear view mirror as I continued my drive to into the darkness, with a liberated sense that up close and behind I now have a companion…. I kept driving at a speed to ensure that we are in each other’s sight. Every time I felt that the distance is increasing I consciously slowed and sped up every time I thought that we are too close (lest the car overtakes). This slow waltz of ours continued for eighty odd miles, with me taking the lead. Then as we approached a town interestingly named “Paris” in Texas, we parted ways as I could see the car turn left  driving into oblivion. Now why did I feel a sense of desolation as I watched the lights disappear from my rear view mirror?

Nowhere in this entire drive did I ever figure out any details about the car – what make was it? What was its color? Was it even a car or a small pickup truck? Who was driving it? Were there others in that car? Was the master of the car equally relieved to see me drive ahead? Did he (or was it she) also make an attempt to stay close? But there it was – not just a “light” at the end of a seemingly dark tunnel but also a companion of sorts in those eighty miles.

How many times in our lives too we have such markers or milestone people who we don’t know well enough but do expect them to be “there”. How often do we then notice them only when they actually disappear?  A cobbler at the corner of a road who you never will go to but someone who you see daily working diligently head down – making someone’s life better? Someone sitting in a cubicle close to the elevator who you see daily and maybe occasionally smile at too but never even bother to read the name plate. A neighbor who you never get introduced to, but with whom you share the exact office time and see him backing out his car while you alight from the stairs. These seemingly meaningless relationships too I guess have some meaning because you do feel a sense of loss (however fleeting it may be) when that milestone ceases to exist…….




Friday, August 10, 2018

Our Inner Child

A still from the trailer of KaiserĂ‚ 

Today I read a report on a German striker - fondly called The Kaiser after Beckenbaur- who never kicked a football in his life but was avidly celebrated the world over - and sought after for International Club sign-ups/ sponsorship. In his celebrated career of 14 years, he never managed to score a single goal - always faking an injury or a death in the family as powerful excuses. Yet his popularity reigned - paid popularity. He paid to have fans scream his name, he doctored videos of famous goals proclaiming he scored them and even tricked major football leagues to fall for his fallacy of Greatness.

You could read about him here - https://www.telegraph.co.uk/football/2018/07/25/kaiser-greatest-footballer-never-play-football-meet-legendary/


When probed on his deception in his senior years, he blamed his adoptive mother to hurt his inner child and mar childhood. At merely 10 days, his adoptive mother stole him from his own mother. When he was 10 years old, she put him in a football school to enable him to pick up the beautiful game.

She may have wanted him to learn an "extracurricular activity" as we Bengalis are so fond of picking up or may have felt the sport would help him grow up to be a more competitive human being kindred on ethics of team spirit.

However, "we see what we want to see"

Kaiser, perceived his adoptive mother to "torture" him, and put him in a sport for which he had no love. He felt at that time, it was his own mother who had wanted him to learn football in order to leverage it for commercial means.

When he realized the truth, he felt traded off - the truth of his "abduction" sat sorely in him for which he quickly made himself believe that his purity at formative years had been compromised with.

He started avoiding football and his deception soon became a skill set which he capitalized on to make his mark as a celebrated player - but in reality was just a successful ruse.

Image result for karwan


Another event I want to note down which happened in synchronicity was watching Kaarwaan. Most of the underplayed Hindi movies are usually better than the A-listers. After long, a movie had a story - clearly relate-able and enjoyable.

The story had a son as the protagonist who had been informed of his father's sudden demise in an accident. Normally Bollywood reveres emotions - melt downs, break downs and drama are celebrated hallmarks of acting. Here, lay a refreshing tale of a son, who was perfunctory about his duty towards last rites for his father - but the emotional attachment was completely amiss. There was no sign of grief - much less a tear : such a treat! On the other hand, while crossing South India on a dead body exchange trip he comes across a "loose" carefree teenage girl who lived by ethics of a cool mom and grand-mom.

I found both these instances very striking. And since I attracted these thoughts, I found more articles and books referring to the same lack of emotional attachment with parents.

Perhaps now, a new normal is okay to admit that you may have less emotions with parents. Its okay to understand the weight of scars thrust onto your childhood by your educated parents - with their bickerings, negativity or simply denial. Its okay to understand that you grew up to be a different and  a distinct breed of an adult compared to your parents - your parents are not the hallmarks of ethics, love, value and respect. You have your own definitions - un-prescribed by societal expectations and are on the journey to heal or simply reverse damages to your inner child caused by our elders.

Many a times, we are numb-dumb to what goes on around us. We are spectators of our own lives - mainly because we are too scared to admit what we feel inside or even venture out of our comfort zones to know more.

When we retrospect, many a times, we are scared to humanize our parents from the demi God status society has prevailed upon to accept unquestionably.

Its when we do that we realize the fallacy - the bubble bursts. What we choose to do with our emotions then must solely be upon us to decide on - society, relatives or even parents cannot ever impede or impose their own understanding.

Is it a discrepancy of cultural understanding or merely understanding the power of formative years? We have known always how important childhood is to enable us to grow up into value led , ethical champions of our tradition. But what about our E.Q,? If not in childhood then when?

Kaiser may have misconstrued what his adoptive mother had intended. But, when he felt his root was shaken, he too easily fell apart - as his foundation may not have been based on "softer emotions". Just a conjecture - but he did resort back to the "hurt" of his childhood to turn out the cheat he reared himself to be.

"Take care" should be our mantra now. Take care of our souls, our innocence, our inner child which we today as adults have access to (for any repair or simply nourishment) and mainly of us as we perceive / chart ourselves to be. We go back to go forward - progress now must take into account the power of healing.



Wednesday, July 25, 2018

Duty vs Love?

I had shelved this topic to be written for when I have time. And I do have time now.

In "The Affair" there is a powerful dialogue Helen tells her mother - "all my life, I have listened to you. And you have spoken and spoken till all that you say was drilled inside and your voice was all that I heard while the rest drowned."

Image result for the affair helen with her mother  quotes

The line reverberated in my head like a cranial echo - it brought back all memories that lie dormant. Sometimes, pushed away - locked into deep recesses of the brain where even I cannot recall. But that forced me to.

Looking back I would not call my childhood particularly happy. It was a very functional childhood with functional parents. The term fun in functional seems quite a rhetoric.


If you ask my parents they'll tell they've given me everything. That in itself is a statement that places the parent child relationship on the pedestal of a barter exchange. It was a comfortable life - devoid of meaning.

Its true we do remember or see reality as we wish too. Our narratives of the past seems lacquered with assumptions, own emotional filters of judgment and our own sensory evaluation of what had happened vs how we felt about it.


I have always found both my parents out of sync with each other and thereby me. My mother has always struck me as high-strung - I found her faltering me for any thing I did or felt. Every opinion I expressed was seen as "boka boka" - Bengali for dumb. It led to 2 things - it dumbed me down to mute where I preferred silence as my friend and it also dumbed me down to stupid.  It killed my self confidence - I started seeking validation from others. Many a times, she had let known her latent or innate need for a son. She may have been wanting to secure her future with a son whom she felt would stand by her. Instead I was a storm.


I am everything my father never wanted in his daughter - by design, choice and voice. My hair was rarely oiled and tied back, I spoke English as my mother tongue that seemed alienating to him, I did not like singing or dancing the way Bengali kids do or basically intrinsically never liked anything about my origin led identity. An ego blow for sure.


I don't ever remember a time when he and I spent together - no walks, no talks, no memorable moments. Instead everytime we were together, my mother decided to pounce in on our space - probably dying of FOMO. Or, my father never had the time.


I found a deep negativity in my house - seeped into the walls. Most moments, I found uneven war of words going back and forth with my mother spewing out  venomous  language at every opportunity. I tried reasoning - was it age, flagging energy, helplessness of her fate or simply the powerless insecurity of someone who could not change her own narrative. I found me and my father mostly shut away in our rooms - which served as fish bowls or islands.


It suffocated and made breathing difficult. It extinguished the meaning of a "home". I remember in college  (with a little more freedom compared to school) I started coming back home later and later - had no wish to return back to a somber place. I was an innately happy child - needed a happy place full of sunshine. Instead the drapes were grey.


I started entering into relationships with boys back then - to only get a sense of a "home" or a family. I started planting myself as an unwanted seed in their houses - absorbing their dynamics with their parents and insinuating myself for such similar simulated rapports. I literally tried adopting families.


The only thing I dreamt of was to escape and how to escape. I made no definite route for a career - my only goal was to leave. Which thereby affected my career. Today I realize my own folly in handling my life - but there was a reason. I had to run.


A child needs emotional support. Different children have different needs - its upto parents to understand the child. Children are born with old souls or new souls. Mine perhaps was an old one - that needed a deep emotional connect. Instead I was shown dilution.


I had realized early on I was different - not from where I was born at. I had known the presence of a Higher Self - unaware of the existence of the term - and it always make me feel an anomaly.


Today, I realize, being an anomaly is no crime. My parents always made me feel otherwise and them victimized.


As kids, good and able parentage was defined by the child's obedience. Child's success at school always equaled a parent's hard labor. Set rules to be followed, set practice codes to be rigidly adhered to and preset expectations always acting as the fulcrum of life and its many shades.


Parents lived by a performance. Parentage a theatrical role lived, conversations recited across generations and the gaps mainly blamed on the emergence of deviance.


Parents of earlier generation  - my own parents' generation - focused on the trophies a child would bring home. Their social currency was equal to the respect a child bestowed on them in society via their own achievements. Pride was mainly materialistic - setting in motion the materialistic parlance of the give and take relative to love.


In "The Affair" Vik's parents are apathetic to him being a man with his own mind. They are regardless of his choices in life and lived in denial. Vik, an Indian immigrant in USA, is shown to have lived his life with the mission of making his parents happy - in the end, all he got was no word of love or affection instead a duty led responsibility on either side.

Image result for the affair vik and his parents  quotes


What I have realized sans empathy in the formative years and later on, the basic foundation of adulthood is shallow and shaky. Parents have an enormous task of creating a good human being - not just a "nice person". A nice person may just follow social prescriptions - a good person may be led by intentions but may also choose to decide on his own.


Is it a collaborative society like ours that merely teaches submission and obedience as pillars of love? Is love not about candid expressions, free spirit and passion - where did that go amiss. Is a collaborative society too controlling as a corollary?


Going back to Vik's story, there were uncanny parallels to mine.I come from an abusive household where domestic abuse was rampant. My childhood is marred by screams, shouts and fights between family members. The trauma still lives on - today if anyone shouts or even strikes out, it immediately leads to a "fight or flight response"


It impacted my academics. I remember freezing for an hour almost during my class 10 boards as I could not get past the horrifics of the night before.


It impacted my own relations. Maybe bred in too deep an insecurity and a fear of being too close to anyone - I don't want the same outcome.


It made me question definition of a man. And a father. Till date I have found none.


What irked me was my family's unique ability to brush it all under the carpet and carry on unfettered. I tried seeking justice - instead was ostracized.

Even today, the objectification carries over to future mile stones. Talks of marriage is mainly equated with a social stamp - feeding the faceless and formless relatives who pop in the picture as levers of social sanction. Its as if parents seek permission from them to celebrate or simply be happy. Which brings me to my other question - is happiness society led for them? How are they happy? What are the constituents of happiness for them? How is it that the very definition of happiness has evolved for me to only be individualistic or privacy dominated?

Templation runs in our society - its footprints in all households. There is no celebration of fairness, love and ownership of one's actions. Instead Indians (most of them) may choose an Ostrich akin lifestyle - head burrowed, eyes blinkered.


As I introspect, I find my inability to love my parents, not my fault. I do care - mainly duty led. But I do not love them. There is no positive memory structure to inspire the softer emotions. We are always taught that not to love our parents is a sin. Maybe its time to rethink. Maybe its time to really tell the true feelings. There can be co-existence without love. Maybe its also time to absolve ourselves of the wrong notions of bond - we must learn to differentiate between love, duty, responsibility and care - and distill actions to emotions.


A sensitive child like me needed strong hands to hold - not wrong hands to lead astray.

The grown up in  me now celebrated the child that I was and am - perhaps now trying to retrace back to the childhood memories and be the parent that I never had.



Image result for the affair vik and his parents  quotes

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Right or Wrong? Left or Right?

I write a lot many reviews and I strongly feel Netflix should pay me my dues. Jokes apart, Netflix content does spark up my imagination and thought buds. Recently, is the series called "The Affair"

I started watching relapsing back to my Experiencing Self with the purpose of binge-watching through yet another series. I treat seasons as pop-corn.

Image result for the affair quotes

 Instead I came across a very intense series that was extremely thought provocative. Initially I felt it could be another plan Jane series - The nomenclature was quite denotative. Ironically, while it did lay out the foundation of the plot premise, it did open my eyes to layers of emotions, reasons, treason and basically human behavior.

Let's hit the bull's eye first when we discuss the core plot - The Affair.
Man meets Woman - both realize their latent loneliness, fall in love, leave their partners and start their own chapter. There are falls, follies and firsts - each with its multiple versions and metaphors.

However, what struck me was the core need to "stray". In our society we condemn any man or woman being an infidel. We brand, we label and we discriminate. We charge, rant and discharge - venom spewing forth hotly and brightly in its ugly green shade. 

But do we ever stop to wonder why this may happen or look in the mirror at our own selves? We all have been through relationships - some broken, some mended and some pushed to Neverland. Yet through the  scars and smiles do we remember the lesson of the miles walked - solitary or hand in hand? 

We may enter marriage - a binary contract - never to fade. Never to break the bond or walk away - no-one starts out with the intent of having to end it. While every end is bitter, it also is a passage to a new story that one must open the chapter to. However, purpose of a strong relationship is never to walk on broken glass pieces or pay the price for it either.


The partners we chose, whom we loved once, we fell out of it. Maybe, it was a wrong choice - you fell in love with an image in your head. After all, love is about projection - you project the desired "buttons" and you got your prey. You may have fallen in love with a dimension of self within that passage of life - the partner portraying the self you would have liked to become then - the dreams you had behind your mind's eye, your partner may have lived them and hence it was a borrowed presence.


When we fall out of love, is it really falling out of or simply waking up to realizing what you don't need in your life anymore. Maybe that sense of self has passed replaced by an evolved dream and hence an evolved need? Maybe, the imagery has been shattered by the shackles the partner's person-hood imposed? Maybe its about realizing what drags your drivers - what deters your evolution.


Contrary to many agape, at the sound of a breaking relationship, I am not averse to those who choose to walk away. After all, life is about multiple experiences and realizations and each has its own time.  I am not averse to another who has "strayed" - behind every action point is an ocean of reflections, of latent needs, feelings unexpressed and cravings unsaid. Your mind or conscience decides much ahead your body demands the action point. Your Higher Self knows the inevitable.


There is an intrinsic need for all to feel pampered and special in a relationship. Many a times the initial fire mellows down to a more caring phase.


As I thought about it deeply, drawing patterns and parallels to my own life, I realized the paradigm of relationships is much in line with our own inherent biological natures that have long remain unchanged. Our untamed emotions soon get the better of us - become our Higher Selves. Emotions may have roots in collective consciousness.


Biologically speaking women are nurturers and men are producers. That carries on to the gendered roles and expectations at household too. Coupled with modern life stress, women seem to balance multiple dimensions of success, lust, love, sexiness and nurturance. Many a times, all roles boil down to a pulpy mess of "care and nurturance" which is intrinsic. I say this for most women - not all. There are many of us who can balance all roles evenly and I salute such fabulous ladies. However, nurturance as a role, is a comfort zone - care deemed to be emotional becomes quite functional - a chore , task and a job to do.


Therein starts the fault lines of a relationship. When passion is replaced by care.


Of course, it is not only women's faults. Men remain the human pups they were born to be - many a times, men shackled by the societal dogmatic roles forced on them crave for one space to be treated as puppies. Women on the other hand, may want men to act like men - however, men want that woman, who treats them with the love, devotion and pamper - as how a dog mother would with her own pup.


What I realized is that men are good at compartmentalizing emotions + roles - for his mom he has a set of practices to follow and a self to be - likewise at office, with friends and with kids etc. With his partner maybe, he just wants to be - not a man, maybe a boy. Its when the partner starts expecting the man instead of a boy that the pressure cooker starts boiling. Men cannot reconcile that difference and slowly slip into duty mode. For the woman, care is not a duty. Care engulfs all their emotions at a centrifugal force which leaves them feeling spent. But for men, care is a duty - their need from partner is different.


Sarah Tree, EP of the series says - "One of the lines in the book that I put on the top of our white board in the writers' room [was] something like, 'Oftentimes people don't have affairs because they're unhappy with their spouses, they have affairs because they're unhappy with themselves. That's kind of the operating principle that we were using to rationalize the affair. It was never supposed to be anybody's fault. It was supposed to be about a man who just wasn't where he thought he was going to be at this point in his life."

I have known of women leaving their very macho and uber masculine men to be with men who are sensitive and deep. Women may crave for connect at a very deep emotional level to completely open up - blossom. Many a times, unknowing of alternatives, women succumb to a "dad's version of a man in their lives" - maybe later they realize their own independent need for the type of partner who'll "feel" them.


It is this feeling to feel special, craving for attention and synchronicity of maturity levels that finally leads one to "stray" - man or woman. Now, there is no difference as core need maybe the same. It is also a need to reinstate one's identity in one's eyes - be a success in one's own eyes that necessitates the change of partner : as you no longer feel appreciated by him /her. You look for your value in another's eyes.


This post is not a celebration of celibacy / infidelity/ commitment - its a highlighter of a new normal where walking out of a suffocating relationship that does not bring you up to your best version. After all every end is a new beginning. And in The Affair - there are always 2 stories flowing in tandem : everyone has their own version. Blame game is never the solution - its acceptance and understanding of the transient need states of every evolving human in any relationship. Question is - can your relationship keep pace with you?


Image result for the affair quotes




The Rewarding Self

I had read somewhere of an interesting theory that struck a chord with me. In fact even aligned with a discussion I had a peer soon after. Our observations were in the line of how humans were constantly becoming dumber. It is true, when you think about it.
Image result for glued to phone


One of my personal hypothesis is that the Phone definitely makes you dumber. So, you might be using a smart phone but with its you are getting dumber. One coerced pathway your phone is making you dumber is by rooting you to the present moment - the Now.

Living the Now by your Phone is a double edged sword :

1) The most obvious is the positive side of it : living in the moment. With YOLO being a narrative of life today and the multiple videos of quitting jobs and traveling the world floating about - we make ourselves believe that planning for tomorrow or future proofing a life strategy is an old man's game. The young live now. And life should be made as experential and memorable as it can be. Hence the greater push for an "EMI" lifestyle.


2) You're constantly fame hungry. The photos you upload on Insta / FB / SC, the videos you shoot to tell your tale or the comments you make / statuses you write : you are hungry and searching for acknowledgements. You wonder if you are a recall factor - what others think about you NOW, how you appear NOW, are you cool / hot NOW - the NOW factor is a constant fight - a friction point that robs you of an action point with a positive outcome of living in the moment or simply feeling the life in a moment.

Being forced to live in the now makes you less imaginative, less creative, less focused and less proactive. In fact you may become less reactive to situations around you. Maybe less empathetic to others and play multiple roles which earlier you could, because you no longer are capable of finding that moment for yourself - that space of time to think for self and for others. To feel and to be at one with the events pertaining to that moment. Instead, you're glued to the screen - looking out for a sign of life in the digital albeit faceless world, where you en-cash all your needs of connect, affiliation and esteem.

The less time we spend to think, the lesser are the times, do we feel intelligent. We mayhaps become thick skinned too, along the way.


It makes sense when you now link it to the theory I started telling you about - its called "The Experiencing Self vs Remembering Self vs Rewarding Self" by Linda Graham, who had taken it from Kahneman's theory earlier (Thinking Fast Thinking Slow)

Image result for experiencing self remembering self

 The 3 sides of self - 

Experiencing self - mainly in leisure space. For instance, watching movies / playing on PS4 or chatting on phone. In many ways this space of self is termed as "spare time" - rather it is a time marked with minimal  thought level or the capacity of reasoning and even degree of enjoyment is passive, The self is mainly in an absorbing mode - more like a sponge.

Remembering self - living in memories or rationalizing current circumstances / events via positive or negative memory structures. This earmarks higher cognitive activity linked strongly to emotions and their roots in behavior science. The self functions mainly as a machine - a data processor, a memory shredder / sifter and an experience filer.

Rewarding self - being proactive and involved in any productive pursuit. For instance writing, making a film, running or gyming. The cognitive function is at its peak with a "feel good" hormone about self coursing through blood streams. Its called Rewarding self mainly because of the degree of respect that shoots up for self, where the self is able to achieve goals set. Could I call this space of a Refracted self too - where the self is the maker, believer, doer and the re-inforcer all at once?


Going back to the earlier discussion I had started out with, why we feel dumber is that we mainly use our "Experiencing Self" over the other 2 and therefore have no concrete results to show for the span of time passed. For instance writing this article in 10 minutes vs watching a show or a video for 10 mins - entertainment has no currency, no denomination and no value to attribute to boost / loss of intelligence. Instead this write up done in 10 mins serves to push my "Rewarding self" to its altitude led attitude, and also ladder to a self appreciation. Which, by the way, is mainly a lost emotion now, as we keep seeking acceptance from others. The so many faceless others.

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In sum, the purpose of this write up is to draw attention to be aware of "which" self you are playing at the moment - question its relevance and impact on you and decide your own narrative. Being dumber or smarter is a controlled action point - it depends on definition of one's compassion, empathy, self respect and lastly self acceptance.



Sunday, May 6, 2018

Rock In Heaven Avicii

20th April 2018. I remember waking up to the shock of your death. I started scanning all news articles to find "RIP" mentioned against your name - an end date to a life of super-nova.
LOS ANGELES, CA - FEBRUARY 08:  DJ Avicii perf...

Avicii, as a brand, came into prominence in Gurgaon - it came with a certain lifestyle tag and an urge to be "cool" /"updated" / "part of the crowd". Avicii brought affiliation and association - EDM, the genre which was the talk of the town.

All the dates, had your songs blaring out. All the bars and pubs visited, songs swayed to, fists pumped to - were your beats reigning supreme.

Beyond the coolth quotient, in solitude, I started reaching out for the lyrics. That's when I connected with Avicii the person.

Born Tim Bergling, the blue eyed Swede swayed hearts and ruled minds with his songs pinned on the most craved for human dope - "Hope". Edgy and peppy, his music had little of low notes - the tension points within were held for a short span before release into a joyous burst. The knots created were almost physical - you were waiting on the edge till it eased out. All along his songs were messages of love, unity and celebration - of self, love, family, bonds, differences and the courageous spirit to live this mammoth task called "life".

Infusing Electronic Dance Music with organic beats, harmony and genres - he gave EDM a new life. Moving away from an only beats approach, Avicii via AV / execution / narrative - weaved in a magical story of thesis, anti-thesis and climax - his music an enabler and an empower. His songs clearly enveloped the drama triangle via country music set to EDM tunes.





It lifted people - their mood, their feet taps as they jumped along in unison and declaration of spirit -and even lifted the genre planting it at the center of global music-map : a celebration of newness, rejuvenation and soul.

His personal life seemed at a divergent end to his own music. Its startling how each "behind the story" is a darker truth that becomes the biggest chink in the armor. Maybe, out of darkness is born, the greatest creativity. The skill / talent itself becomes a tool - an access to new "Levels".


His death opened up a Pandora's box to claims, lived and imagined reality. The life we are forced to exist on, are, many a times, a fallacy of our own expectations. I understand the lows - the dumps. I understand perhaps, the moment life could have seemed too much - suffocating and overpowering - to snuff it out before it suffused. It is always a war of me vs life - not recognizing that neither function in absolute independencies - but are in correlation. I relate to the very moment, when the voice in your head actually gave you courage to pull the final trigger, stop the blood supply - its surreal as if you're acting out in your own movie. Know it all too well - the need to end it all.

Avicii is a classic case of a person fighting his own doom - with no-one to trust explicitly as everyone seems far away. Its a dreary land, barren, unforgiven territory where people like Tim / me tend to throw ourselves in - unable to find any foothold or climb up. Its a quicksand of drowning emotions, wasted hopes, broken dreams, over-reaching expectations to see them crash and shatter into a million pieces every time. To live fragile - a broken heart or a numbed mind- is a state that the sane cannot comprehend - yet scoff and question.


Long Live Tim. If I ever recognize you in anyplace, I would prefer to gaze from afar and never disturb. Being sought out in public was one of your worst nightmares - fame unsettled. There is a void somewhere - hope, is a dope, after all.


Saturday, April 21, 2018

Hiraeth

I am a serial Netflix binger. This is an honest confession. Given light days, I find myself glued to Netflix till the dark - my dog the only distraction. On realization, I did a quick analysis only to realize more that  Netflix is a portal to many lives and chapters for me. Quite akin to the feeling I had as a child being lost in books. I do suffer from a content hang-over - while earlier it was Rebecca of Daphne Du Maurier or Heathcliffe of Wuthering Heights or Irene Adler of the Sherlock fame - these days the characters and content are transient : probably can even term them as Fast Moving Content Spiral. On deep-diving more, I laddered to my intrinsic need to escape from my own reality and "provenance". I like neither. Both seem to be prescribed than subscribed to and more like an albatross around my neck.

Recently I even realized that my life is full of people who are just there - in suspension or in co-existence. Emotions are transacted along with perishable promises. I see the people - more like ghouls - in my path as stardust : flaky yet solid. I feel like Aza (Turtles all the way down - John Green) - there but not there. Conversations, people,lives and bonds now seem ephemeral. I can't help but wonder if my previously mentioned idea of FMCS is the causality behind the current template of life.

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In 2 days recently, I finished watching a heartwarming series of Chesapeake Shores. The story revolves around  Abby - a versatile woman ferreting multiple hats of a successful career woman juggling the pace of NY corporate life, a single mother, recent divorcee, sister to 4 siblings, daughter to a busy father and an absentee mother and a beloved grand-daughter to a wise grandmom. She comes home at the behest of her youngest sibling who has opened up an inn of her own. As she settles her girls in,she bumps into her own high school sweetheart Trace - and together they both realize the full meaning of "home."

Abby realizes 'home' outweighs the rapid pace of her corporate ladder - while she can live her ambition, she has a choice to live it at her own pace. Trace, retraces his footprints back into a high flying music career - now complete in heart and soul with Abby by his side.

However, the series revolves around stories, contexts, emotions and inner thoughts of all characters involved. The layer of family bonding, sibling love, ambition and words of wisdom from the elders are all implicit to tell a tale of the positive family always there for you. I realize the candy floss-ity of it, still am gullible enough to be swept along in its tide.

As I finished the 20 episodes spanning the 2 seasons, I thought of my home. I pictured the people I knew - here where I stay / where I come from - and realized that neither attested to being my home. Instead I am now suffering from an acute attack of hiraeth - "a longing for a home you cannot return to or one that was never yours. Not necessarily a house"

My home town folks never had any connect with me. Both parents were busy chasing materialistic dreams or living up to social ambitions - with no time to converse on topics that would have cemented us together. Instead now there are loud laments everywhere. I belong to a part of a generation that has no / negligible friends. The veil of friendship had been lifted up long back to realize the agenda driven relationship sustenance. I feel no shame or live in denial to highlight the lack - now there is no need even.

Where I stay, now too seems, polluted by people. None of them mine / a home. Nowhere is this feeling of abandonment of spirit or mind explicit - where you know that you can be still and in peace - without the brouhaha. No questions asked, no answers looked forward to - only a fluidity of space, time and relationships to float all boats.

I wonder, how many people have truly found homes? Homes they are lovingly beckoned to - in light / dark? 

Sunday, April 1, 2018

Dog-Ma

Almost a year of being a Dog-ma. In every possible way a kaleidoscope of emotions, thrills, hopes and dreams. She has taken me to the moon and back - several times - and continues to do so in her magical way everyday.

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Jimmy walked into my life with her four little salt and pepper paws, a year earlier. I believe she was God sent. Maybe my Guardian Angels, realized the trough I was facing in life then and to bolster me out of my own crevice, had sent this furball, my way.

We started living together from her 5th month onwards. My parents had never allowed me to have a dog though I had always yearned for one. I knew deep in my heart I needed one and I could raise one.

Little Jimmy helped me burn myths and live a life of love, laughter and "light".

Let's talk about the myths first -


  • Being single does not make any girl equipped to raise a dog - Jimmy and I strongly disagree. She has learnt to spend her free time at her productive best (the doors, walls and endless toys can speak up for that). I am solely responsible for all her needs - walking, barking (she is an extremely quiet dog and I need to teach her how to bark or howl now), OOH pooping, playing with other dogs and playing with me inside the house. Food is her frenemy. She takes out all her moodswings on food which has to be strictly home-made (she is very health conscious with her shining fur and a trim waistline). My maids support me when I am at work. Else she is an independent woman, just like me. In all this, being single / plural (the relationship tag of course) hardly makes a dent because what I have realized interacting with most men - they (the men I have met) remain in the play periphery of the child (human or dog). Mom remains at the nurturance level which is the core. Being single or plural makes no change on call of duty / inherent responsibility drive / heart full of TLC. Being a Dad, is not something, most are naturally equipped to be. 

  • Mother knows best. - that is so not true. I have a mother who carries me around like a trophy on her purse or a credit card. Jimmy came in 'her' life (here life = awareness) as a dent to that perfect credit card that could run on its own fuel. She then tried to insinuate herself as a positive catalyst in my life by removing the negativity. Little did she know, (or she did not) about a mother-child love. Jimmy and I remained rock solid while my mother with her Utopia made her exit permanently, from the boundaries of my home. Its a sham when most parents today, take it upon themselves, to 'straighten' or 'keep the child on the right path' - what does it ever mean? That just shows a materialistic, dominating and a controlling mindset - where the child is an object and must flow in the course dictated - not guided. Guidance needs interaction -  my mom and I have never talked. 

  • Dogs will bite - of course they will. They are animals. And when cornered, even humans bite and bark. It took patience, love, caring and prayers for me to get past Jimmy's teething phase. I even visited a hospital for anti rabies shots, where the doctor shot furtive and suspicious glances at my Significant Other, fearing domestic violence.  But in the end, looking back, it was worth it all. She is more loving than ever, with occasional mood swings. Protective, she will run and come in  between any one ,who presupposes, a negative vibe which she picks up on instantly. Many a times, if the Significant Other and I are fighting, she will come and sniff - once she senses the heated up atmosphere,  she will jump on her front paws and try to push him away. Otherwise, if the pheromones suggest that "all is well" or "there is love in the air", she is quite happy to share me. 

  • Indi dogs are hard to handle. Female Indi dogs are akin to signing a death warrant - Wrong. A vehement no to this. Agree and concur that before Jimmy walked in, I had always dreamt of the branded good looking boy doggo to buy from a breeder. Jimmy managed to open my eyes to a whole new world where I have come across concepts of adoption, Indi bias, male fetish for simplicity measures and looks decide love quotient. Jimmy is most probably a Border Collie and an Indi mix - which makes her a delicious energy ball, active runner with a vibrant demeanor. Given my own inertia to playing, Jimmy seemed not to be my cup of tea / coffee / juice. She ran around, dug into carpets / walls / door frames, scratched me all over, appeared disobedient to any training - basically she was a curious mix of Allauddin Khilji and Tughluq. On top of that being a female, I kept hearing others, tut their tongues on her apparently imminent mood swings, heat cycles which would leave the house messy and create a stench and my own plate being overloaded keeping her (the temptress / seductress) away from the male poachers. The warnings had been registered, but as I fell in love with her, I saw no signs of the above. Her first heat cycle in December left her calmer - my house was as clean / dirty as before - her no cause of any stench / mess. A female was just a gendered label - I soon discovered - she wrestled / wrestles with all male dogs, has no mannerisms girly (bitchy?) and clearly she enjoys being her own self. There is no "handling" aspect to her - its only about seeing her grow up into a swan-like graceful creature who makes each day worth living for. 


My life of the 3 L-s now - love, laughter and 'light'

The term 'spring', would best describe the entry and impact of my Little Jimmy, on me. She came to me at Spring time, when all of Bangalore bloomed out in its glory into an explosion of colorful blossoms. With Jimmy by my side, there is a season agnostic spring, in my step everyday.

She works like a spring too - pulls me up when I sink. I remember a couple of weeks back, a viral had struck a low blow which left me bereft of any energy or stamina. My sleep-cycles were similar to any Rip-Van-Winkle's dreamland - where I seemed to lapse into - with a slight fear of slipping into Forever land. In the REM stage of sleep I dreamt of her calling out, with a keen look in her blazing eyes and her mouth set in a hard line. With a start I awoke to discover I had been asleep for more than 5 hours in the afternnon. Mustering courage, I took her for her walks and stuck to a normal 'routine' - not allowing myself to 'sink.'

I know its 6 am when I feel Jimmy licking me awake. She rises with the sun and tries to program me similar to her body clock too. Of course, its mainly for her OOH freshenings. But eventually, after a period of curses and frantic look-out for dog walkers, I realized that mornings are beautiful (the Goth in me has always been an anti-morning person). I started looking forward to the little walks or runs with her, smelling in the clean air, feeling the mist / chill in the air or simply "being" in tune with nature. 

Its because of her, I have made friends with all her friends - and their walkers and maids too. Her friends are of different shapes, sizes, colors and fur types. I do have my favorites and clearly so does she. She smells the puppers - no harm done - she sniffs at the females, rejects shorter / smaller males and only waits / advances towards the big male dogs. As she plays, I keep interacting with her friends too - who realize my greed to touch them and walk closer to me too. 

I love watching her indomitable spirit as she plays with the big male dogs. She does not stop, is virtually never bereft of energy while the other dog surrenders panting on the floor and she loves to climb on top of the dog. Its a lesson learnt from watching her moves - dont be bullied by life no matter the size of the challenge. She, in her subtle ways, is my Guru. 


To come home, is my biggest joy. She has taught me to be simple, appreciative of the small joys of life. When she hears the key turn in the lock, she is ready to greet me with all her love, licks and tail wags. She demands her quota of love - and I'm only too willing to abide by. Evenings are spent walking, talking and playing ball. My house comes alive with her paws darting from room to room in  search of the elusive ball. 


She has taught me how to control my short temper (put it on leash), be more patient, loving and finally what it is truly like to care deeply for a child. She remains my elixir, the knight in her shining fur, the love of the long licks and my guardian angel in an animated form. My SO / parents often ask me about career / ambition etc - somewhere Jimmy has made me realize that intrinsically my metrics of happiness / success is not about career / travails / vertical ambition - they are scattered but at its root is my need for freedom / flexibility intact.  Best part about being in Jimmy's life is that she makes you famous, popular and well networked across a slew of people from varied backgrounds = which in my current metrics of success / happiness = endless opportunities to grow / be / do + varied interests. 

Today I am me because of who and what Jimmy has made me to be. I am happy. On cloud # 9 / top of the world looking down on creation. 


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Friday, March 9, 2018

Petish


To wonder about humans is my favorite pastime activity these days. I don't consider myself inhuman / sub-human / alien - however the differences between breeds within humans is quite stark today. A couple of incidences have led to this post write up.

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Incident 1
7:30 am on slightly sunny Bangalore morning. I took my pup for a walk. To beat the mundane activity as well as keep sleep away, I had headphones blaring with Classic English Rock music in my ears. Felt the rock-shock would enliven me and put in an instant good mood.

When  the lift reached the 12th floor, I saw a man and child enter. There was some delay on account of the child being scared of my pup. But the man forced the child to enter. All of this happened in a dumb  charade format for me as I had the music in my ears.

Suddenly I saw the ratty man (his teeth jutted out and  a scowl hung low on his face as if tattooed on by a permanent marker) address me - angrily and loudly enough to pervade the sanctity of my noise cancelling head phones.

As I took my headphones, the man continued ranting. My groggy state made registration of his chaff - in slow motion.  He kept glowering at my innocent pup and asked me why I had to go take her out during school time. My pup chose that exact moment to stand up and sniff at the man. To which, he took particular offence and nastily kept telling its wrong to take pups out when school kids are in the same elevator too.

By now, my anger system kicked in - the boiling point reached. I snapped at him equally ferociously and told him that he had entered the cargo lift where there was no time allotment to take pups out. Cargoes are meant for pets - rest of the 2 lifts for humans. Since he was so concerned about his child's safety, he should have taken the passenger lift instead of blaming an innocent pup for her form and state.

He even said "It should be leashed." I do take offence at relegating animals to a third gender - they are gendered as us. I corrected him saying "Its her. Its a she. And she is very well leashed" dangling the leash end in front of his bumbly nose. Along with his teeth, his mouth too hung open now. I am not sure what angered him - my talking back or the fact that veracity was definitely on my side. He was on the wrong footing where the grass lay barren and not green.

The pup in question sensed something off and lay at my feet. I risked a look at the child - his small stricken face showed up from beneath the cap he was wearing. My heart went out for the poor boy with the ill-mannered father. I pointed out the man's rudeness and called him out for talking rudely with a girl so early in the morning - that too in front of his child. These were surely not the values his son would have wanted to inherit from his ratty father.

The ratty snappy cantankerous man, at a loss for words, stepped out when the lift hit Basement level.

It felt good standing up for your child - pup or human doesn't matter - the bond is what foretells your own responsibility towards your ward. It felt great to call out a man for being rude - and pointing out clear facts than let him create facts. Men may feel they have the upper hand on women, sneering and jeering with palpable disdain - its good to put them in place.



Incident 2
Each tower of the society complex have their individual groups on WhatsApp. We keep checking for maid related updates, sales of certain home items or any requests that we neighbors can help each other with. One evening, a neighbour, messaged in a very angry tone, complaining bitterly about dogs being taken in passenger lift too. She was steadfast about maintaining the distinction and dignity between species - humans of course were more privileged and had access to all lift while dogs can only use the cargo elevator. All that's well - but in situations of lift out of service, it becomes imperative for the human to be humane too. While all the neighbors - most of whom practiced 'love thy neighbor' except for our angry lady here, volleyed back and forth in support of the dog rights, it marveled me to imagine the deceit and conceit that finds space in the core of the heart. How can one be so insensitive / inhuman to place a barrier on what's accepted / not because of species difference. Why can't we all live in harmony - helping one another out, instead of bearing grudges to our graves?

These incidents made me wonder about who or what is human today? Is a human privileged because of its bipedal status and its earning capacity? So in that case human is all about mind and no heart? Where is the humanity - that shows love to all forms of life - celebrates life?

Dogs are with us for such a short lifespan - what is really being human enough to discriminate?
Live and Let Live! Slowly humanity rings its own death knell bell - live and let live or love and let love - these concepts only belong to a select few. Sadly. 

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Mundane Milestones

The issue that's bothering me is the incessant prodding of Mundane Milestones. Milestones - unfortunately for most, are socially dictated.

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Be born, grow up, study, marry, reproduce, grow old and die. The cycle of life. Within this cycle, you're expected to earn money, save, travel the world, enrich your children, be materialistic, opt for a regimented career ladder and finally retire with a lump sum for the rest of days.

How linear? Why can't we curve our own experiences? Choose our own free will?

As I was growing up, I had seen a friction between pursuit of American shows vs parental control. Most shied away from SEX - the biggest sin on earth. I always wondered what truly had been the bone of contention - was it only as trivial as sex or was it something more?

Today when I think about it, our concept of America is entwined with free will implicit in their culture. Hence a corny notion of culture gap.

Free will or freedom to choose your own life for most of us is a holy grail not a habit loop.

Let's get down to some examples of the 'free' mindset - 


  •  I was once discussing about my hopeless future with my mother. Her idea of life is simple - marry, be a parasite, rear children as the only duty of the womankind, die with child's hard earned money honeying her embers. I wonder how I came out of her womb - we are such polar opposite creatures. Anyway, I had the misfortune of once telling her that I would be later adopting a child - to me the idea had been rooted in shades of my own childhood (another blog someday) and the dream of enabling a young soul who could have had a sordid past. There are plenty like that. Being a Cancerian I am naturally maternal - but practical too. Yes any girl would love to see the chemical compound a child would be of both parents - who's nose would s/he get, who's eyes etc. - but somewhere I had always known I had my own architecture of thought that bordered on giving a life but not of my own flesh and blood. My own flesh and blood would also involve gaining nearly 20 kgs - no difficult a feat as losing it would surely be a nightmare for a depression prone patient such as me. I know instinctively I could never deal with the post partum blues. But the moment the truth of my dream crept out of my lips, my boorish mother bounced back on me with her bearish self. She could not fathom how I can be "irresponsible" (I clearly am at a loss of the use of the adjective here as adoption is one of the most responsible dreams that I could ever harbor!). Her facts were drawn out of 100s of my friends who are happily married with children to which I calmly pointed out that out of that 100, 50 are already divorced and bearing brunt of a bad decision. However, she persisted with the imaginary 100 figure as her yardstick of true womanhood - they had the courage, passion, dream and a behaved version of a settled life to have children with a loving spouse. I did zone out soon after as I felt my recounting of the side where the grass isn't as green - but before that I did point out the example of Sushmita Sen living it up with boldly and beautifully with her two adopted children. She in fact broke many a fear paralysis at one go - adoption, no marriage, no child of flesh, blood and fat and both to be girl children. To which the maddening woman, her Bengali ego hurt along with her kinship with other Bengali women stinging, cited example of Bipasha Basu who was a 'waste and lost in life' before marrying or Sushmita Sen could have done better had she settled down. I mentally shut down my case with the prayer of QED silent on my lips - but my point was fairly well made. Free will to live, free will to think of your own life in your own way and also free will to decide what happens to your body. It does not belong to your parents, society, to any man or anyone - save your own self.

  • My Facebook photos show many images of my friends happily getting hitched. Claps and Bravo for taking the plunge.Where I beg to differ - and this is my personal opinion alone - is the use of shenanigans to express celebration. Why would the code of celebration be linked with food, revelry, costumes and performances. Why can't simplicity be a way of life - register marriage if you may and get done with it? Are we socially pressured to follow the doctrine of how a marriage ritual should be or how much money should be sinking to keep the couple afloat on their personal Titanic? 'Society' itself has led us to be so micro eyed about every issue in life - forgetting the larger picture. Our basic rights are expensive to us, we do not know where the taxes we pay go, India is still touted as an emerging or under-developed economy, jobs are uncertain - given all this why not simply save money and spend on more fruitful adventures? In fact I love the travel pictures of the same Facebook friends - travel is a worthy expense - so is marriage ceremony a conduit?

  • Rushing to office to be on time and working till late. A very slave driven mindset and philosophy. Everyday I see hundreds of commuters cursing the Bangalore traffic under their breath, otherwise on their phones apologizing for running late. That's good - punctuality is a disarming quality of the human kind. But today, where the work primarily runs on technology, why not simply work from home? Do we really need an office structure and physical presence to report into? Are we not adults who could be responsible about our own deliverables? Free will exists in the way one perceives his / her work life balance - in this case commute too. Working from home for most could also save commute money, commuting pains of navigating their wheels through to the nearest spot to escape traffic and also boost up productivity. Another problem with most rigid corporates I find is the culture of leaving work late. Why? Is there a point to prove? There could be aberrations but not a daily crisis one has to solve. There must be equal emphasis placed on me-time that leads to strengthening one's EQ.

These are some of the top thoughts that I rattled on. Let me think up of some more to prattle on. Till then do comment with any after thought.