The Right Choice

Prologue
The decision hung above his head like a bomb ready to drop on his head. He thought both of them were... just fiine, really. J was an accomplished singer, a quiet, industrious and pleasant girl who was obviously his parents pick. The other one - S, was a pretty, bubbly, enthusiastic  girl and was friendly and pleasant. How was he supposed to choose? " Go with your gut" advised his friend and resident grandmother Ira. But he didnt know how to think with his gut, heart and other body parts.  He could only think with his head and the only thing his head repeatedly told him was that The Great Indian Arranged Marriage Process was completely flawed and it had no idea how to rank two seemingly reasonable women and pick one as a partner for life.

 1.
He was happily married. Rather, he was married and his parents were happy.  More than happy, in fact, for he had chosen J. She would make a great daughter-in-law, gushed his mother clearly oblivious to what was going to happen in just a couple of months.  J's quiet industriousness hid behind it a steel-like stubbornness which would grate on his parents, especially his mom. But he had no problem with it-He saw it as independence. He liked strong women- "at any rate it was better than hanging around with a clingy needy crybaby" he thought to himself.  They gave each other space, she pursued her interests while he found time for the love of his life- squash. With time, their marriage became happier and his parents became more and more unhappy with their daughter-in-law.
**
He was happily married. He didnt know what those words meant, but he assumed it was what he felt. She was friendly, sociable and charming- he was charmed. Whats more, she charmed his parents too. The same parents who hadnt been taken in by her profile and horoscope were soo taken in by her person. While she got on really well with everyone, she placed an unreasonable demand on him to return the favour. She was highly dependent on him emotionally and always wanted him to be aorund. But he had no problem with it- As long as she gets along well with everyone and doesnt fight, he thought to himself, there is no harm in humouring her with my time. They grew closer because she left him with no choice, but they were very happy together as well.

2.
He was getting annoyed with J's way of dealing with money. Fine, he had no problem with being economical but there was fine line between economical and miserly and J was treading the line, inclining towards miserliness. He didnt understand it, its not like they didnt have enough. Both were earning well enough, they had no other commitments - what was wrong with a little fine dining now and then? Why did they always have to eat healthy food at home? " Are you going to build a palace with all this money you are going to be saving? " he asked her in half-jest one day. She looked at him dead seriously and sent " Not a palace. But at least a three bedroom apartment with spacious balconies. And you know property prices these days".  While he had always assumed he would buy a house, a vehicle and all that it rankled a bit twhen he realised that he was a  grown up. He missed his youth. He looked wistfully at the carefree couple on the road sharing their ice-cream and wondered why he couldnt be like them.
**
He was annoyed with S's way of dealing with money. Actually "dealing with money" is a very generous expression for what she was doing which was closer to simply throwing it away.  He didnt understand it- how much did she think he was earning? And while it was OK to eat out once in a while, what wa sthe need to do it all the time? Wasnt it also unhealthy? he wondered as they walked back home eating the expensive ice-cream she bought. Still, he didnt dare to say anything to her about how he thought maybe  they should start saving some money if they ever thought they should buy a house or settle down in the traditional sense. As he was thinking about this S chirped " Hey, we should go to Thailand this year for your annual vacations". He looked at her in disbelief and   wondered if now was the right time to explain the concept of savings to her.

3.

Her economy with money notwithstanding, his life with her was peaceful. They never fought much- they were both too logical for shouting matches. But she more than made up for it by being stubborn with his mom. When they did buy that new house, in a surprisingly short time, she squarely ignored her mother-in-law's instructions about moving in at an auspicious time and jsut chose a time that was convenient for both of them. His mom was happy on winning the unsaid contest she was having with her peers as to whose kids would buy a large house first. Despite acquiring bragging rights, she was so pissed that she refused to come to his house until the requisite poojas were completed. While  he didnt believe in all these superstitions, he wished J was a  bit more tolerant and less rebellious, for he relished peace much more than he valued rationality. But like most problems, it got sorted with time. Whats more- he loved the house.  Sitting in the big balcony  on Saturday mornings, sipping tea, it did seem like all was right with the world.

**
S was always all about new places, new experiences. And life was always a roller coaster with her around. She took him on wild emotional rides, screaming one moment, hugging him the next- he had no idea what to expect. She wanted to see the world, and he had no option but to tag along. He knew buying a house was a distant dream.  He did love their trips, too- who wouldnt enjoy seeing cheetahs up close or sippimg cocktails in Thailand? Whose minds wouldnt be broadened meeting with locals in Philippines? His parents didnt seem to mind that while their peers kids were doing the right things and buying houses, she was taking them along on a South East Asia trip. As he watched the multicolored sunset from their beach bungalow in Borocay,  the voices of his mom and S discussiing some obscure thing in the background, it did seem like all was right with the world.


4.

J wasnt pretty, he knew that. Neither was he ever considered goodlooking.  And had no problems with it, for he knew there were far more important things that mattered. Like actually mattered. And in all those things she scored incredibly high. Nobody is perfect, but in things that were significant, he thought she was.

**
He kept staring at S as she was trying to pick the perfect necklace from the flea market. How he got married to someone so beyond his league, he would never know. While she had her flaws,(well, didnt everyone) she showed him the world, helping him discover who he was. And he wouldnt be the person he was, without her. In that sense, she created him.

Epilogue.
Few days later he met his friend M for a quick lunch. M was most curious to know how his first year of marriage had been and if it was the type of "happily ever after" they showed in movies. "Well, its obviously not  happily ever after "  he told his friend with a shrug " But its great. I wouldnt change a single thing".


PS: This is obviously inspired Lionel Shrivers The post birthday world, where she deals with in great detail, the eternal dilemma- Do you choose Mr Reliable or Mr Exciting?.  This is just my poor take on the whole thing. And while it might seem like a gen boring story, it brings to light one trick the mind uses called "Rationalisation" to justify our decisions after we have taken them. The protagonist thinks his life is perfect, because he is not thinking about the other parallel universes. And if he stopped to think and analyse about every parallel universe, some of them undeniably better than the present one, he would most definitely go mad.

PPS: J can be considered staid and sometimes boring just like Lawrence was, in the book. The justification the author gave was that while it seems that he is a bit rigid and boring from the outside, it is the kind of thing that love usually becomes when it lasts. It might be boring for someone reading about the couple, but for the couple themselves its just nice and peaceful.

Living in the moment

All of us have heard of "seize the day" "live in the moment" and other catchphrases without having any idea of how to put them into practice. How can you seize today when you are worrying about your tests tomorrow? How can you live in the moment when you are dreading that next moment is going to be filled with anxiety because of a presentation in office?

There is a story in Upanishads of a hunter who is sitting on  a tree trying to hunt a deer and sees a snake slithering towards him. When he looks down to jump to escape the snake he sees a crocodile waiting by the side of the tree. Facing certain death, the hunter looks up, and at that moment a drop of honey from a hive on a branch above him falls into his mouth. As he savours the sweetness of that drop, he experiences pure happiness.

This story was stuck in my head for a while now-just lounging there in one corner of my head without really achieving anything. And unexpectedly,  today evening I understood what it was like to be the hunter.

For the last few days I had been obsessing about Rolf Potts- his writing style, the kind of travel he promotes and his general awesomeness. I have read all his articles, seen most of his videos and all of his interviews so thoroughly that it got to the point where I could predict the answers he was going to give. And in every article of his, I always find at least one line that makes me go " Yes! Wooow, you are amazing". I thought I had read all the stuff he had ever published.

Today evening I had a meeting I wasnt looking forward to at all. I had to go through it because it had to be done but that didnt make me stop being grumpy about it. I reached the venue earlier -it was a wonderful coffee shop-one that I would have loved to spend time in  if the context was different. As I sat thinking about my upcoming meeting it was impossible not to let the niceness of the place wash over me. I knew there was about fifteen minutes for the meeting to begin. I ordered something nice and on a whim opened the twitter account of Rolf Potts.  As I sat sipping hot chocolate and reading some brilliant RP tweets, I knew what the hunter experienced.

Unfortunately, I also knew how the hunter felt while being devoured by the snake afterwards.

Anthropologist from Mars

If you are an anthropologist from Mars (yes, I am quite deluded about the reach of this blog) and you want to understand how Indian society has evolved in terms of mindsets, just watch the most popular movies of the decade.

Parents of friends have pointed to the different iconic movies. For example the madhubala song "jab pyaar kiya to darna kya" encouraged people to be brave about being in love. The tamil movie "kalyana parisu" in the late 60s was the first one where the heroine marries someone else after an unrequited love affair with the hero. Until then any female who was in love but didnt get to marry the hero usually died or became a nun. But as movies started showing that its alright for women to move on, I assume society started accepting it too. 

It works both ways- Movie makers put reasonably fresh societal opinions which will get accepted by the masses but they also strongly prompt a change in mindset. Especially influential heroes have the power to make a whole bunch of poeple change from being backward assholes to progressive members of society. Some of them use this power wisely- Aamir for example has made movies about generally not-talked about stuff like depression, dyslexia - all of which helps people become more accepting towards the off-beat characters of society. 

However the supposedly popular heroes SRK, Salman and in Tamil heroes like Vijay and Rajinikanth always seek to pander to already existing mindsets regardless of how retro they are, SRK has no respect for women and treats him as nothing more than objects, I am not going to get my blood to boiling point by talking about Salman. Our regional movies are no different- they are worse. There is no Rajini movie where the heroine isnt a saree-clad generally patient homely sweet submissive girl. Sathmeekam, as he himself charmingly calls it. Women in top positions in company can be nothing but arrogant ruthless monsters wearing Western clothes. They are not the ones to fall in love with-they are the ones who need to be put in their place ( Which is usually in the kitchen, in a saree). 

Vijay movies are quite the same. If he heroine wears Western clothes, it means he has the right to stalk her relentlessly, give her lecture about how precious her feminityand  virginity is and in general behave as if she is his property- therefore can choose to do with her whatever he pleases, yet, doesnt do it because he is the epitome of chivalry. There is no indication of the fact that anyone in the movie knows that the heroine is a separate human being with her rights and while our tamil culture upholding hero might not agree with her lifestyle, he has no right to impose his beliefs on her. The heroine dutifully falls for him after his relentless stalking culminates in him saving her from villians and promptly exchanges her knee-showing western clothes for waist-showing sarees and half-sarees.

I am not denying that its infinitely easier to do this. To pick the sweet homely Diana Penty over the party-hard independent Deepika. But when you are put in a position of infinite power, the power to shape the way an entire state thinks. when you can have the satisfaction of realising that you have brought society forward by just an inch, what sort of idiot would choose to maintain the status quo?

I wish our movie makers werent so lazy. 

Yes, thats me asking someone not to be lazy. Huh, OK. I will leave.  

How to be Awesome.

Why does self-help always get such a bad rap? Why are people so eager to proclaim that they dont read self-help books or that they have only used "How to win friends and infleunce people" as a paperweight? Its like a status thing- like the anti-apple. You portray that you are this kind of a person by vehemently denying any association with something. I can understand when mega serials, astrology and some weird thing like udayanidi stalin get this kind of a reaction. But to cast self-help books in the same category as megaserials is baffling.

I would understand this if people picked certain self-help guys and said " Oh that guy is terrible, i will never read any of his books" but too many people proclaim "Oh, self-help books are terrible I would never read them" . Maybe some say that because they are too bored to read and know that they wouldnt implement them anyway, but the tones of a lot of people indicate that they dont need a self help book, because they have really got everything they need.

Yes, I assume these people are born leaders, friendly yet stern when required, never procrastinate, never hold grudges, are extremely disciplined and organised , have never watched a single SRK movie in their lives-you know perfect human beings. Yet I find that hard to believe. The same is true of people who never admit to a single error of judgement in the past. Whats more likely-being so perfect that no mistake was made or being so deluded that you continue believing its right?

(And scarily enough, same is true of people who seek therapists assistance in order to help themselves. The amount of stigma attached to it is saddening as much as it is mind boggling. Why would you judge someone who goes to a doctor to feel better? Why is it such a  bad thing to admit that you are not in the best of places mentally and you want that to change? Why do we insist on calling these people pejoratives when there is no clear reason for us to ? Depression is as much a clinical condition as cancer. While cancer is seen as intervention of fate, depression is somehow considered the victim's fault)

I love self-help books. I might not follow most of the things I read but I love to read about it and imagine doing those things. if nothing it helps remind me that there is a huge scope for improvement in my life. I consider reading blogs of unconventional non-conformists in the category of self-help because I feel so thrilled and motivated and inspired when I read those.

Here..The Art of Non Conformity. Help yourself. 

Corpospeak

Yes, its serious discussion time. As it has always been on this blog. What? You had a feeling this wasnt a place for serious things? oh, whatever gave you that impression! Unbate your breath- The topic of discussion today is as serious as it gets- Career. Yes, you heard that right. I am talking about career. (What? No, I didnt hit my head or anything)

So I watched the last lecture by Randy Pausch and was touched (amongst other things) by the fact that he loved what he did for a living. And it shone through his speech. Wow, I wish I was that passionate about selling lightbulbs, I thought to myself. haha,you got me, no i didnt think that. I instead thought "oh god my life is a waste what am i doing oh shit i am going to die and the only thing that remains by way of legacy is... NOTHING oh shit oh shit" and so on. But after the waves in my brain had settled down a bit the question meekly resurfaced. " What is it that you should be doing, as a career"

I distilled the wealth of blogs and articles I read and came to these few points: What you love, your hobby, that which makes you feel like you arent working (Translates to you dont crib on monday morning and you arent depressed sunday night), that which makes a difference to other people's lives significantly in a positive way.

Of these, the last point was the easiest- Pretty much every decent job affects others positively- you arent a waitress- you bring coffee to many people before they get to work. And to realise how important that is, just meet them on a  morning they have been denied coffee. You arent simply laying bricks on a road- You are enabling trading and industry and so on.So pretty much anything that doesnt involve murder or drug dealing you can put a positive spin on. The only group which escaped this is the finance industry- Seriously, what DO you guys do?. But then, why are so few waitresses happy with their work despite knowing that they are so important in the grand scale of things? I have  a theory that you think your contribution is significant only if you bring your personal touch to the work you do. If there is just one way of pouring coffee or laying bricks and you come to teh conclusion that anyone can replace you tomorrow, you will be unhappy with your work. WHich is why I presume professors and researchers are the happiest- they are irreplacable. They might be wrong but they are wrong in a way only they can be.

So, that leaves us with the harder bits. How do you figure out what you do? Some people are extremely lucky to have their talents jump at them at a very young age. They know that they want to be a painter, a pilot, a car mechanic- whatever. The majority of us have to figure out what we want to do with absolutely no or little clue about our talents, abilities,likes and dislikes. As if these problemes werent enough our fickle minds decide midway that "Hmm.. you know this seemed like a reallly good idea a few years back, but now.. THIS SUCKS! I want OUT!" So most of us stumble through life miserably, waiting for weekends like prisoners waiting for their weekly conjugal visits, and are released when we are too old to do anything. We try hobbies, vacations, and other things that clearly target the symptoms and leave the root causes intact.
<Why cant we change our career when we feel like? Society (that nasty bitch!) dictates that you ought to have a stable job, you ought to get these promotions at these times, you ought to switch jobs after a point so that your valuation goes up without giving two hoots about how happy you are. But society also keeps quiet when masses are murdered, when there is injustice all around us so she really really doesnt know what she is talking about. And this is a recurring theme in this blog- You always have to pick yourself over society, you have to pick desires over fear and you have to pick uncertain and interesting over certainly mundane. So, now that the mandatory society bitching is done, we can
get back to the point. >

If you have bothered to listen to other people and what they tell you- particularly those who arent scared of you, you should have a very good idea of what you are good at and what you arent. And pick a career choice based on that.
So I thought hard about all the feedback I have received in my life: And here are the things I am exceptionally good at
1) Being sarcastic
2) Being lazy
3) Being mean to people who are stupid ( or those who dont agree with me-SAME THING BITCHES)
And here are the things which are areas of improvement ( Corpo-speak for "You suck at these things")
1) People skills
2) Negotiation skills
3) Discipline
4) Being organised and smart
5) Decision making
6) Networking
Etc
So after analysing my strengths and weaknesses I have come to the conclusion that I should become a host for News Night on Times now. . SIGH! Apparently thats already taken!

Seriously though ( yes guys, I wasnt kidding when I said this is a serious post) I tried and tried to come up with a role that would fit my personality. There is just nothing feasible. So like a prisoner who decides to make the best of his conjugal visits ( pardon my analogy) I have decided to work on my hobbies, my vacations ( which will henceforth be referred to as travels to give the impression of it being less frivolous and more educated. In other words- more history, less drinking).

And in the footsteps of the past me that has declared the same thing multiple times and failed miserably most times and less miserably other times, I have decided to work harder on my blog. Fret not, dear readers! All your miseries shall end, for, I have decided to update this blog EVERYDAY. Yes, you heard that right- EVERYDAY. Like a dose of morning coffee that gives you nausea, like an early morning jog in a park filled with dog shit, this blog will be a part of your daily routine in ways you never thought possible ( and didnt really want, honestly)

But wait, this was supposed to be a career post no? YOU !!*angrily shakes fist at ADHD* 

Where did the weekend go?

"When you are eighty, it seems like you have breakfast every five minutes" said some old guy (I think) 

You must agree that time is flying faster as you grow older. Ever remember thinking "wow where did all thse months go" while you were in school? Now it seems as if you just got used to writing 2014 in cheque books and its already time to start changing to 2015. What has changed from then? You still have 12 months every year. and 7 days every week. Why do some of these days whiz past with no trace of them ever having been there? 

The answer lies in one word: Memories. 

When you were young, you were doing new things and you were making memories. And the days seemed longer. As you have grown older, without memories to mark your time, it seems like its all one big blur. You will be able to attest to this with your own weekdays. They remain indistinguishable from one another-your brain doesnt think it worthy enough to secure a space. 

In contrast, think of your vacations-If you have done different things on holiday, you can vouch for the fact that on a Friday, your Monday looks soo far behind, suuch a loong time back and quite a distance away new things done and  the new memories accumulated have occupied a substantial space in your brain. And by definition, the more memories you accumulate in your mental drawer, the longer the time seems. 

There, your simple way to stop time whoosh past you. Stop. Do new things. Do things that are rememberable. Until the lab coats figure out how to transfer your brain to a computer so you can immortalise yourself, this is the only possible way of extending your life. 

Face your fears while traveling. Literally

"Oh my god oh my god oh my gooood Geeee" I clutched G's hand in utter panic as I saw my nemesis just a few feet ahead of me. I was in Plitvice, dammit, supposedly one of the most beautiful places in the world.  I was not prepared for this. I had not traveled halfway across the world to unexpectedly stumble upon the one for whom I had harboured a deep mix of fear, hatred and revulsion for as long as I can remember.

The snail, for its part stared insipidly, presumably unmindful of the stuttering panicking creature a few feet away.

Yes, all that drama was for a snail.Amongst my earliest memories is one of me running inside my house in abject fear of a snail that had found its way to our house. Wherefrom I developed this fear is not entirely clear- though some investigations point to my very elder-sisterly elder sister who, possibly used fear to establish her authority over me. And to this day I remain extremely disgusted and repulsed, and scared even though the rational part of my brain knows that its irrational. And this fear is so deeprooted that I involuntarily wince and flinch when I am unexpectedly shown a picture of a snail.

I explained all this to G while carefully walking on the road, my hypersensitive brain detecting more snails in the foliage on the side of the road. G was understanding but baffled at my apparent preference to get killed by walking on the road rather than step on the sidewalk. We managed to reach the guesthouse where we were planning to stay the night, to wake up early next morning to go to the National park.

There was nothing to do except sit in the room as it was raining outside ( which was what brought the wretched creatures out in the first place) so I spent the evening contemplating if I had let these nondescript molluscs ruin what was possibly the prettiest place I would see the whole of the trip. ( For those who do not have an irrational fear of things (curd, cheese, cows, whatever) you would never understand this post. Also, you are incredibly lucky. What the rest of us experience when we see the objects of our fear cannot be really explained in words- Imagine a cyst or a tumor in your body filled with hair and teeth. Imagine touching that with your bare hands. You are able to fathom some disgust level? Good. Multiply that by 1000). I could imagine my mom mocking me and imagine my friends laughing about this misadventure. Thats when I decided that I wouldnt let it happen. I would try and ignore them. Lets see what happens.

Next morning, I wore two pairs of socks- I dont know how that extra layer was supposed to protect me- Rationality in the presence of snails has never been my forte . As soon as we entered, it was clear that the park was mercifully free of snails.  Soon after, we had to cross a brilliantly underhyped "flooded trail". The water was ankle-deep so the rational thing to do was to remove shoes and walk. But I wasnt having any of the rational nonsense that day. Sure, the park was 8km away from the snail colony we had seen, but hell, animals have crossed seas and colonised islands. Given infinite time, 8km  was nothing for a particularly determined snail. No, I would walk the flooded trail with my shoes and two pairs of socks. We finished it without incident and I forgot about it.

The next day, we were exploring some small towns and G spotted a bush which she thought was lavender, pulled a small leaf and invited me to smell it. I calmly stepped back and told G " I am not coming any closer, there is a snail there" ( of course, g hadnt seen it.) I was overjoyed. I hadnt flinched, jumped or panicked. Maybe I had overcome my snail fear!

Yes! Yes! YES!!

A week after  the trip I was at home watching cartoons with my one year old niece and a new cartoon called "Dreams of speed" started. As soon as the protagonist came on screen, I screeched, winced and closed my eyes.  I realised that my fear was still intact. So much for my rejoicing.

As they say.. Whatever happens in Croatia, stays in Croatia, unfortunately! 

May you live in interesting times. So interesting that you become speechless.

The worst case of a writers block is when it afflicts one who wasnt a writer in the first place.

Just a while back I was able to construct meaningful sentences, string enough of them together into a paragraph and patch a couple of those together on to a blog post. It didnt invoke great tears of joy from those reading it, but thankfully it didnt inspire disgusting bouts of vomitting either.

Into this uneventful world, entered the villian- diguised in the form of a trip.

It was all fun and games- the trip high, the not thinking of the life ( or the very apparent lack of one) back home, new people, new places and all sorts of things I had not experienced before. And I came back thinking that the trip has been fodder for a great number of  posts.

How wrong I turned out to be.

Instead of churning out post after post , I got into a state of restlessness and thoughtlessness.  As if my brain had built a wall which didnt allow thoughts to cross over into that place where they get converted to sentences. Even if I struggled and gathered a bunch of haphazard thoughts, they immediately dispersed as if a gale had blown over them and I was left empty headed.

I stayed in this half-awake state for quite a while- coming up with titles or topics to write about without being able grasp the contents which,  I was certain, were lurking in some corner of my brain. This was spilling over into my reading as well. I was inclining toward short  hollow articles over difficult books, my attention span shrunk to the levels of today's 7 year olds on a special diet of ipad and cartoons. And that is why blog post is what it is.

But this is not the way its supposed to go.

Especially because in my fantasy which at some point I hope to real-ise, I make money by writing. I dont belong to any place, I dont own any possessions, I travel to wherever I feel like and write for a living. Of course I use the words money and writing loosely- to mean anything from 20$, and anything from an essay for aspiring undergrads to the content for the website of a company selling spare-parts.

If this one trip has numbed my brain, I can only assume that lifelong travel is going to cripple my writing hand.

The best laid plans of men, I tell you..

Things I have changed my mind about

I have written about this before, theluxury to change your mind is one of the greatest favours you can do to yourself.  Here is a list of things I have changed my mind about.

1. Peeing on the roads: I used to get very angry with people who would simply stop anywhere and pee all over the place. I was amongst the outraged " How dare he" "Does he not have any civic sense" etc etc. But the more I visit places and think about it I ahve realised that for most people there are no other options- There arent enough public toilets, some people have to be on the road all day ( drivers, postmen etc) and at some point you have to let it out.

2.Chetan Bhagat : Like almost everyone else I know, I was a vociferous CB hater. But then I realised that he has made the best out of the absolute lack of talent and a great marketing bent of mind. And he isnt ashamed of it. Nor should he be. So my feelings for CB have gone from outright hatred to grudging acceptance sprinkled with small amounts of jealousy ( What? I would love to have been the one who made millions writing a book despite being consistently mediocre)

3. Atheism and theism: Have always been an atheist and I used to look at terribly religious people and wonder whats wrong with them. Now I am still an atheist, but I see great value in religion- the fear of God and a general sense of morality which religion confers and the presence of hope without which we would be doomed as a society. (I do sometimes wish I was a believer, because its just so much easier to lay the blame on someone and ask them to handle it for you, than taking it all upon yourself)

4. Saibaba: Even before I became an atheist I had long renounced vocally, all the godmen who promised all kinds of heaven on earth for the unsuspecting masses. Saibaba was then for me, an easy one to hate- his supposedly magical powers to cure the sick, his ability to materialsie vibuthi with a swipe of his hand and what not. But he has done a lot of good for the society- He did bring the Krishna water to Chennai ( presumably with a swipe of his hand ;) ) and he has built a hospital and educational institutions, all of which I truly respect. I am beginning to think he knew what he was doing and the only way to make groups of people donate money, follow him and to generally support him is by invoking the divinity in him. Either way- respect.

5. Travel: I am quite ashamed to admit that I was a fan of luxury travel. I cant be farther from that stand now so much so that my daydreams involve shoestring trips. I will leave it at that to hit myself for not going on exchange in my second year

6.FB status updates: I used to think that its an attention seeking activity performed by people who are so insecure that they need validation from the world that their life is exciting and everyone is envious of them. These days... gah who am I kidding, I still think the same and cant wait to trash them. I dont miss an opportunity to make fun of that habit and  console myslef that my life isnt as pathetic as it does seem when compared to their FB lives. Anyhow, so i am not going to change my stance on that one.
Atleast not right now.

What have you changed your mind about? 

Why we believe in the supernatural, godmen, the paranormal etc

The Infinite monkey cage is an extremely witty irreverent discussion hosted by the hilarious Robin Ince and the delectable Brian Cox. And in one of their discussions they touched upon a very beautiful point of uncertainty and control.

Humans hate uncertainty. Very few of us can thrive in an uncertain setting for long and we love to believe that we have control on whats happening around us. And when we lose someone important to us we hate to believe that we dont know whats happening with them and if some conman convinces you into accepting tio talk to your loved one, you will gladly fall for it despite being  scientific minded otherwise.
And same is the case with the multiple homams that godmen make people perform. To say that "Its because your ancestors are unhappy taht your son is falling sick" attributes a reason and thus something we can do something about and control, as compared to " sometimes shit happens". Instead of sitting simply we believe that we are actively doing something about the problem and that accords us a grip on the whole situation. This is always preferred over the whole " we are just pawns in the game of fate".

The same thing is true for multiple things- You were involved in a car accident because you had committed some sins in your past birth and now you are absolved of it sounds more soothing than " its was just a random occurrence, could have been anyone. Accepting that the universe is random and that you have to make the best of what it throws is not as easy as typing it. We always look for other solid reasons to know why this happened to us, what we can do so that it doesn't happen again etc.

And ghosts emerge from the lack of knowledge of what happens after death. To say that we just stop existing seems unacceptable to most of us so we fabricate stories about people continuing to exist after death and whats more, routinely visiting their past lives.

Thats what it ultimately comes down to. Your ability to handle uncertainty is inversely proportional to your belief in astrology, psychics, and other similar phenomenon.  Think about it- Is it easier to believe that someone voodoo conspried to make you hit the car, or to rationally wonder whether it was just a matter of probability?

Just when exactly, does one give up ?

This post is inspired by and entirely dedicated to the Brazil national football team and to their disastrous performance in the semi-finals last night. Everyone knew that Germany was the better team and that Brazil is most likely going to exit the finals, specially given the fact that Silva was not there to defend and Neymar was occupied with the broken back thing, but no one could have predicted the level of humiliation Brazil had to go through. Poor markings, haphazard formations and an abysmal morale led to what is probably the worst defeat Brazil has ever faced. Before half time it was clear who was moving to the next round.

But this post is not about my analysis of the match. There are enough articles on that. 

What touched me  and somehow what no one is talking about is the lone goal scored by Oscar in the 90th minute. Well, of course no one celebrated it. Fans didnt know whether to laugh or to cry. His teammates didnt come rushing to his side, hugging him and pushing him down in a wave of affection and happiness. In fact he himself didnt look relieved and didnt look at anyone for acknowledgement. He simply continued playing as if it were a goal scored during a practice session.

Thats the difference between him and most people. Knowing that that one action isnt going to change the outcomes, yet doing it unselfishly, not to add to his own meagre goal  count ( one more goal would have made no difference) , not to bring glory to his team and country, but merely doing it because it has to be done. Never has a goal been more futile and more unwanted and disrespected, but that didnt stop or deter him.

There is something to be said about that spirit which lets one keep playing for the sake of playing when the game is over, when your exit from the World cup is inevitable and ignominy is anyway a few minutes away- all the other players showed signs of physical and mental fatigue- Luiz was visibly disturbed, Marcelo was incredibly sad but somehow found the strength to run, but Oscar merely continued playing with the same puppy face with which he started in the Croatia match. 

Well, the media might not be talking about it- they are too busy showing us photos of saddened fans , glowing articles might not be written about him, but hey somewhere in the corner of the world there was one blog post about it. 

Far far away from what Oscar or anyone would have wanted from a world cup goal but it is what it is. 

God is in ultraviolet

No, I am not saying that because most of our  Hindu gods are depicted as bluish. The reason is also not because he is right there, you know he is there  but you cant see him.

Until we discovered ultraviolet rays some of the things were unexplainable. The only way we could explain our way out of it was to attribute it to a mysterious higher force which has the ability to do things us lowly humans cant. This is not true just for ultraviolet. Till electricity was discovered fish which identified its prey based on electrical signals sent by the prey would seem to have been guided by divine instinct. 

In a lot of cases we invoke the divine when our quiver of scientific ideas is inadequate to explain something fully. 

I  mention ultraviolet because it is one of our more recent discoveries which has managed to explain hitherto mysterious things. The conventional belief is that what is mysterious must definitely be magical. But the more practical belief should be that what is mysterious is .. just mysterious. At every point we make this arrogant mistake of thinking that whatever can be invented has been invented, we are at the forefront of technology and our understanding of nature and sciences is so great that it cant really progress beyond this.  

We will be proved wrong. By the next generation. 

They will definitely discover newer things and look at the world with a much better vision. They will dispel some of the ignorance of our generation and wonder how primitive  a life we must have led to not have known <some funky thing> the same way we look at the older generation with pity for not having known the usefulness of Google. They will push back the boundary of the divine just a little bit. 

Because, God can only exist beyond the realms of  understandable science.

(I am of course not taking the poetic argument of those who see God in the beauty of science. They see God in the greatness of evolution and natural selection. They equate beauty and truth with God. And of course some who believe that science can explain everything, but God oversees that. I could get on board with such a god but if that were so, there is no clear reason why God should be so human-centric. There are more bugs than humans, we are definitely outnumbered in terms of the volumes.  )

update: Some article I was reading seemed to hint that astrology is such a science. That we dont know its workings, therefore cant trivialise it. I am on board with it theoretically and do accept taht there is a chance that it works in ways we cant understand at this point, but my heart still finds it silly to think that Jupiter which is a million miles away is influencing how short-tempered I am. 

In defence of the fake.

Original. The word has great value. It means you were the first one to come up with something or it could mean that the world saw yours first. Either way, the value is about hundred times that of the non-original. Fake, on the other hand is its much unloved cousin.  Its cheap and dirty, lives on the by-lanes, sneaks up unsuspected and runs off with the money intended for the original.

It is all so grossly unfair.

Picasso is considered a genius because of his ability to paint. Someone else paints just as well and has painted the same things as him, and his works are indistinguishable from Picasso. But one is considered a master and the other a forger and a scamster purely because they were separated by a few centuries. ( yes, I understand that he was trying to cheat and imitate, but am talking about the basics) Why isnt some random guy's water lilies valued in billions if it looks like the water lilies that Monet was looking at when he painted his? Are we not paying for the beauty of water lilies looking like water lilies? Are we instead paying for the idea? Art collectors and investors would like to tell you that there can be value only when no one else has it. But we started collecting art in order to make ourselves happy. If the only thing that can make you happy is the fact that no one else has it, your problems go deeper than can be solved by a piece of art hanging on your wall.

A similar reasoning can be applied in the case of fashion brands as well. If it looks like Gucci, smells like Gucci, is as durable as Gucci, it is as good as a Gucci even if you pay one tenth of the price.  When brand name implies quality I can understand paying a premium but in most cases we pay just for the brand name. In which case what gives you happiness is not the bag itself but merely the fact that you are possessing one. You are paying for a mental value than a physical utility.

Let me tell you again, this is a scam. A scam run by companies who want you paying more, who do not want you to see whats real, who do not want you to just be happy with the basics. They create random needs you do not have and then make you feel inadequate when you do not fulfil them. What else can be a reason for the existence of so many ridiculuously priced luxury brand of watches? How much value can you extract from a watch for you to pay lakhs and lakhs?

I know I sound like some conspiracy theorist who claims that aliens are running our planet and deluding us into living in this hamster wheel while they amass all our resources but I am not that stupid. All I am claiming is that some earthlings are running our planet and deluding us into living in this hamster wheel while they amass all our resources. 

Patriotism is the new religion

Don’t get me wrong based on the title. ( Only after reading the post are you allowed to throw stones at me and call me anti-national) . I am as patriotic as the next person. Which is to say that I dislike Pakistan during cricket matches, discuss politics fervently during election time and pay my taxes. I like my country and want to be here for the rest of my life, but that’s hardly patriotism- its more a matter of convenience.  But I am fundamentally apatriotic when it comes to it- I am not emotionally attached to the idea of countries and laying your life for them.

Sure, I agree it is a matter of convenience that blocks of land are governed by distinct bodies. And I am not naïve enough to think that a Micronesian tribal village is the same as an Italian village. But for people to kill people of neighbouring countries for the sake of land seems so beyond me, despite the fact that both are soldiers fighting for their own country.  We are all in our designated countries purely by chance. History could have dictated it any other way. Rajasthan and Gujarat could have been a part of Pakistan, South india could have been a different country along with Srilanka- the possibilities are endless. And we would have been loyal to those countries then. Therefore, it seems stupid to me to sacrifice your life to safeguard the idea or a concept or a group you are a part of , purely by chance.  Sounds familiar?

Religion, while not exactly the same,  has many similar features. You are part of a group your parents are a part of  probably, you believe in its ideals and visions and you are ready to kill someone who is opposed to this view. And that’s what I hate about religion and patriotism- That we are so brazen about killing someone and make them heroes for doing so.  Killing is generally unacceptable in regular society- you are a murderer , but in a different context , you are made a hero- Why? So what if the person killed is a Pakistani?  He is not evil, he has a family back home and he is as much a loving father and son as you probably are. Just because he made the mistake of being born in Pakistan ( which would have been your country had things been slightly different) you are OK with him being dead? But you are not OK with killing someone from Rajasthan, are you?

I am in no way trivializing those people who are sacrificing their lives so I can sit comfortably in my home writing this post. I am merely sad that they have to. I soo wish they had the luxury of sitting at home thinking of useless stuff. Sad that people have to put themselves at risk because two governing bodies cant figure out how to co-exist. That they still behave like tribal clans- killing and looting in order to survive. We are way past that stage now, aren’t we?  We are not putting soldiers between states in an attempt to protect our states from the neighbours ( Karnataka would do it, given a chance, though :D )  Why cant we have that kind of maturity amongst countries?

I am not saying that we all merge into one big blob and be ruled by some world ruler. We can still continue economic discussions and trade discussions and still try and do whats best for your country. But this needless killing can stop? No? 

PS: I understand fully well that at this point its impossible to stop military exercise. It would mean that the other country has to come to the same conclusion. This is a post in an ideal world. I am allowed to fantasise about that, arent I? 

The 100 days Project or The Art of Frauding

In which I explain how I am going to tackle the 100 days project.

I am a big fraud. Not in the alarming sense of " dont pay taxes" or "embezzle company funds" fraud. I dont have the intelligence or the stamina to carry out these activities. No- more in the mundane sense of  " Yes I am five  minutes away" when I haven't even started or " yes yes, its on track, dont worry we are managing it" when I have no clue of whats going on.  Then I go around scrambling to figure out whats going on in the project and scramble some more to ensure that its on track. This when there was no need for me to blabber in the first place.

But my foot in the mouth recently reached a higher level. I had a case of "Foot in the blog mouth". I dont know how else to describe it. Yesterday, as I was writing the post on embarking on the 100 days project, without my knowledge I typed "which will allow me to experiment with different styles of writing". When my brain realised what had been  typed it quickly formulated the disclaimer and stuck it alongside the original line. But I had typed something and  once the thought of "different styles of writing" crept up my mind it was impossible to repress it and say " I will churn out regular posts for 100 days".

There was  a slight problem though. I had no idea what it meant and how to go about doing it.

Few minutes after my post, I was wondering what different styles of writing I was capable of. Well, I thought to myself "  I can do movie reviews and book reviews, have never done those before". I was now left with the simple task of figuring out 98 other styles.  It then occured to me that I could write for different magazines- different genres of magazines which will ensure that I will be forced to write about topics which I normally dont. I can write columns for Femina, Architecture weekly, homes and interiors, gardening magazines, political magazines, nature& wildlife, food magazines, Psychology, lonely planet,  etc.  Not only will it force me to expand my horizons of writing , it will also keep my ranting to a minimum as I would pretend I am writing for a magazine.

Of course, none of this precludes fraud. I can clearly see myself writing whatever comes to mind and slotting it into some magazine section. And there is always the option of calling it the column submission for Outlook or Week. Have you seen the irrelevant articles they publish?

One of these days I will make a list of the magazines I definitely want to cover but until then I will post as they come, with a mention of which magazine it is intended for. I am not deluded enough to think that it is worthy of getting published in the magazine, it is merely my attempt at writing for the audience of these. Its just a way of keeping the 100 days project interesting for me with some semblance of a structure instead of random posts being thrown into the universe, all of which can loosely be assembled into one giant post.

As fascinating as this idea is, it comes directly in conflict with a thought I have been having about the blog recently. Unlike business or subject blogs which run purely on content  and the greatness of the writing, individuals' blogs need the personal touch. You cant follow some unknown person's blog unless you get some sense of how their lives are. Not every minute details of their lives, but a broad sketch of their life, against which context the readers can understand the blog contents better. Unless their content is so powerful and their writing is so beautiful that you would read them regardless.

 So, in the awareness that my writing isnt so fantastic that it will keep the reader hooked, I will make the magazine articles more personal than the ones you see in the actual magazine. I will somehow also try and keep it objective.

Thank you, my dear useless subconscious, for the last paragraph. Now I have to figure out how that needs to be done. Seriously, cant you check with me before just typing stuff?

Rational, with a pinch of salt

Human beings are wired to look for patterns. Your brain figuring out that those random spots is a leopard is the difference between you surviving by getting out of sight and being the leopard's lunch. Well, the evolutionary justification is pretty clear- the better you are at figuring out patterns, the greater your chances of survival.

This is what leads us to see those optical illusions where the brain completes a triangle even when you show it only parts of a triangle. It is hardly the brain's fault that we have moved from dense jungles to stupid concrete jungles. Yeah, so what? you might ask. So we see some patterns where there arent any. Its all right. Doesn't really impact us much in our daily life. Well, think again.

How many completely rational humans who otherwise dont believe in superstitions or horoscopes or anything have you heard saying " But yes. She is Aries. Obviously you expect that shortfuse from her.' Or  "Ohh a Leo. Hmm.. that explains a lot". I dont say that these people would make major life decisions based on zodiac signs but somewhere in the back of their minds they are trying to categorise people. And zodiac based categiorising is just one of them. I am no exception to this rule either. I find myself analysing people, especially in an emotional context, based on their zodiac signs.

This could be a big mistake because the universe is essentially random but we have this unstoppable urge to look for patterns. Whats worse, we look for patterns with us in the centre. Lets say you are trying to find a restaurant in a corner of the city you have never been to. The roads are not straight, there are lanes and by-lanes and its a crazy maze. You have made a few wrong turns. And finally something feels right. You think " I have made soo many wrong turns. Now it will be the right turn". Based on nothing. You think that just becuase you have made so many wrong turns the universe is obliged give you the right one now. Well, guess what? The universe doesnt care.  Well, not care isn't the correct way to put it. The universe doesnt know you exist. It goes on being random, doing what it always has and suddenly you swoop in and demand  something favourable to you and you  alone purely because of a pattern seen from your stand point, the universe really couldnt care less.

But its a tough thing to wrap your head around. That all this you are battling, crying, smiling, fighting, struggling for is essentially going unnoticed by the universe. The universe doesnt care that you have failed million times to bend down, pat you on the head and give you the thing you were fighting for. If you are an intelligent human you should have found the thing you were looking for, dont look to the universe for help. It is busy being random.

Perhaps forcibly unseeing the patterns is the difference between surviving and perishing in today's world. Think about it.

Truth is sadder than fiction

She sat on her bed hugging her knees tightly, rocking back and forth trying to calm herself. Her small unlit apartment was oppressively hot and stifling but that wasnt what was weighing her down at the moment. 

"But it had not always been like this" she muttered to herself. Her mind wandered back to their initial days of courtship- the fun dinners, their light easy conversation, his intelligent comments to everything she used to say- how carefree she had been then!. She had imagined herself to be special- he was always dismissive or mildly condescending about all women but she had assumed that he thought of her as different- after all, he chose to go around with her. She couldnt deny it, she did feel slightly smug about it.She had a right to be-  their relationship wasnt like any other. None of the cloyingly sweet romance that was on display all over the campus. They were too cool and casual and she had always wanted it that way. 

Just when did cool slowly but surely morph into cold? 

Was it with the mockery- light and friendly in the beginning ( nothing she couldnt take, in fact she wore it proudly on her sleeve as a mark of their coolness) but somewhere along the way turned into disrespect? Was it with his absolute disregard for her opinions in private and embarrassingly so in public? Her restaurant suggestions did not count-they always went where he wanted. His interests, needs and ideas came first. She had accepted it indulgently, hey, she wasnt one of those whiny nagging types who would keep their boyfriends on leash. He had no respect for that type, she knew- he had made it abundantly clear to her. 

The doorbell rang, hesitantly at first and then impatiently. She let it ring. She had no energy to step off the bed now. 

She couldnt understand it. It seemed like just yesterday that she was walking proudly by his side, holding his arms. Slowly she had began taking tentative steps, letting him walk ahead- letting him guide her. Before she knew it she had blended into his shadow and he was walking all over her.  She couldnt point out when exactly this happened.  Was it when he made disparaging remarks about what she said in front of their friends? Earlier she never took them seriously and would reply with a flippant fitting retort which would earn his grudging respect ( Ah, how she loved that look). Over time somehow she had began ,unknowingly, to believe whatever he had said and in the place of a witty comeback all she had was mute rage. As if she was trapped in a dream where her brain is willing her to say something and her mouth was not able to spell out the words.   

She had been a free bird soaring the sky - why did she find herself on the ground with clipped wings and no zeal to take flight again? In his elaborate manipulative spin he had controlled her, broken her spirit, made her feel worthless ,feel that she had to work hard to keep him- she didnt deserve a prize catch like him. And she had started believing it. And she tried so hard to prove that she was worthy of him. So hard that she had started becoming the person she thought he would like, so much that she had forgotten what it was to be herself. 

Her stomach grumbled.  She had to make do with Maggi. No patience for her cooking skills now. 

She had learnt to cook what he liked. Because he believed that women needed to know how to cook. When exactly did her feminist tendencies leave her? 

 How did I let this happen to me? she wondered listlessly. Did I let myself be abused? But abuse doesnt happen to educated women- it happens to poor women living in slums whose husbands beat them up for money. People raise their eyebrows in respect when I tell them my qualifications. This just could not have happened. He is also an educated person.  No, its not abuse, she tried consoling herself. But she knew the truth. As did her friends,  whose attitude towards her had lately moved in the direction of pity. 

Her phone rang. She disconnected it. She will call them back. She scrolled through her playlist and "Perhaps perhaps perhaps" came on. That had become her song recently. 

There were a lot of "Perhaps" sentences she could think of. Perhaps she should have called it off when he was being evasive about a commitment. Perhaps she should have realised when his frivolity and disregard spilled over from words to actions. Perhaps..

Maybe she should go on a vacation to clear her mind, as all her friends had suggested. But she knew it would be of no use. What was she going to do on that vacation? Sit and brood about how things had gone? Was there any way she could leave herself behind when she went for that vacation ? She didnt have anything to do on a vacation. She only had herself with her morbid thoughts to keep company. 

Suddenly she straightened up. Yes, she still had herself. That would do. For now. 

She got off the bed purposefully and switched on the light. For a moment it was blinding, but it spread its cheerfulness across the room. She smiled. From here it was a long way to happiness, but she had made a start. Perhaps she would make something delicious for herself to eat. 

I absolutely have no use for it. But is it on Sale?

Its as if my thoughts are wild elephants on anti-depressants and writing a blog involves a sole mahout with a stick trying to herd them into alignment. I wonder how regular writers manage t orient their thoughts enough to sit down and start writing. Even if the elephants dont trample the mahout, I would imagine he will die from the sheer stress of the job ahead of him.

Anyhow, this post is not about mind control or how I generally get myself into writing posts. I just had to get that out of my head so I can talk about more um.. useless things. 

If in the earlier days there were just elephants, the anti depressants are provided today by smartphones, social media and general malls. You cant walk inside a mall without "SALE" being shoved at your face. You cant stay on FB for a few minutes without feeling inadequate and being inspired ( mostly by guilt and little bit jealousy) to do something facebook worthy. Invariably you start questioning your lifestyle, your aspirations, your abilities. ( As always a non-negativity disclaimer- I dont know why I feel compelled to put these- perhaps to tell myself that i am not going to be old cat lady ( if anything i might be old cheerful dog lady))- Of course, if you visit the right sites and follow the right people you cant spend a few minutes on these without laughing and shaking your head disbelievingly about how you are so thankful for the internet and wondering (with a slight hint of pity) as to what people did right after they woke in those pre-technology days. ( Gasp! you mean they had to be one with their thoughts? perhaps think about what they wanted to do that day and just peacefully reflect on it? The horror! )  Wow, that was one long tangential disclaimer and I have surely made a mistake in paranthesis closing. See what i mean by elephants on anti-depressants? 

What I was trying to say in the previous paragraph that got lost in the dense foliage of random thoughts is this : We are constantly surrounded by advertising. One is the direct advertising by brands- Axe telling you you are not good enough for girls, Surf excel telling you  you are not a good mom, Dove telling you  that you are average looking and you should be proud of it etc. While its designed to make you feel ill equipped to face this formidable world and induce you to rush out and buy their product it is the safer method  because you are at least aware of it. You know that the Axe man smirking at you is trying to make you conscious about your girl attracting abilities, you know that the Nivea woman raising her hands is doing so in an attempt to make you hide your armpits so that you only raise them next to buy that magic lotion. You can still fight this if you have some sanity. 

The other more dangerous form of advertising is remarkable because neither the advertiser nor the receiver is aware of it. Its the more insidious " Oh I just <bought a house/vacationed in exotic location/jumped to fancier job>  whats up with you?"  It makes you want to take the next flight to Micronesian islands just so you can prove that you are exotic location vaction do-er as well. Everyone competes with everyone else on their list to have cover pic so beautiful that makes you want to renounce pride, jealousy, materialism and be content. And if you are not competing with them you are parodying them( Thus competing with them- saying I am so much better than you at this game that I am going to play a differnt game). 

Receiving the advertising info from humans and trying to live up to it is not a new phenomenon. Its the information overload thats new. Its the same old wine in the same old bottle. Just that now there are lot more bottles. And before you know it you are piss drunk and cluelessly wondering where your life went, how you came to be in this state, and hey, are there more bottles left? 

While the saner amongst have might have realised that there is no value in Gucci over a non-branded handbag, very few of us are even aware, let alone equipped to fight, this stealthy war that we are waging against each other and ourselves. Shutting ourselves down is not the answer, just like abstinence isnt. Its about knowing when to stop- that precarious point between happy high and depressing low. And its almost impossible to achieve it. You invariably make that slip and from there on its a downward spiral. 

What started out to be a post on how advertising generates false needs seems to have morphed into my favourite FB bashing rant. Well, there is only so much controlling a solitary mahout can do.   

Your body just died. May you live long!

Whenever I hear a friend or anyone saying “ I would never read books on a Kindle. Nothing equals the smell of a new book” etc I smirk.  I look at them with pity as if they are grandmas who cant understand technology and say scornful things like “ Do you think our ancestors felt sentimental about parchments? Had everyone been for parchments and writing on barks, you would never have books. Perhaps the parchment guys were hesitant to move from stone/clay tablets? etc. It makes me feel super cool for being in with technology and against the mass belief of a hard copy being better sentimentally than its advanced tech inhuman version.

I believed I was soo for technology. Until I discovered I wasn’t.

It has been an accepted fact for some time that until science finds a way to delay natural ageing, the only way to remain immortal is to transfer your consciousness to a machine and live as a machine forever. I just cannot get on board with this.  I am soo attached to this biological way of life that it irks me to even think I can live inside another body. I refused to watch the movie “ Her” because the idea of a man falling in love with an OS with consciousness repulsed me. It did not matter that the machine could think, feel emotions, and was in all aspects – a person. It is like falling in love with a person over the internet, only you will never  ever meet them. I know all this, I just cant wrap my head around it.

I want to scream and shout “ But this is how it was meant to be. You cant interfere with nature” as if I am living in the middle of the jungle and hunt deers for dinner. I do not define myself by my body( maybe if I was thinner and prettier) but now, no- I do define myself by my thoughts only. Yet, it is impossible for me to let my thoughts live in another container.

I guess I am more old-fashioned than I thought I was. I really need to stop smirking at the Kindle critics. 

Why put off till tomorrow what you can avoid altogether

I am a serial procrastinator. I am not proud of it, but I have to admit it, if not to the general public atleast to this blog. The things I dont want to do, I understand putting them off. They are annoying, a waste of time and generally a pain to deal with. Everybody has those- tax returns, paying bills etc.

But what I dont get  is the inclination to put off things I really want to do. I really want to learn Italian, Duolingo is right in front of me- Why do I choose to aimlessly refresh my Gmail and read the last two mails, instead?   I want to clean my room, i love the feeling of having cleaned it, the thought of cleaning does not really discomfort me- why do i lie there like an insipid stone whiling away the entire afternoon?
I really want to apply for jobs- the portals are in front of me- why do i put it off? What is this fear that is lurking deep in my mind that prevents me from doing not only the things I ought to do, but also things I enjoy doing, and things I need to do to be happy? Is it fear of failure?A fear that a job done badly is much much worse than the one that is not started at all? Perhaps then I can attribute the failure to the fact that I didnt start it anWyd therefore there is no way I could have got it. The alternative is too horrifying- imagine applying everywhere and still not having a job- imagine the humiliation, the depression it will bring about, imagine all the pain. It is like holding on to the float boat and refusing to learn swimming for fear of drowning.

How do I then convince myself that doing something is better than not doing it? For a annoying trivial tasks I try and follow a very nice line I read somewhere " procrastinating doesnt make it go away. doing it makes it go away". But I dont really follow this. I cant imagine the amount of money I have lost purely because I was late in booking teh flight tickets even though my plan was firmly fixed. And i would end up paying the highest amount to book flights in the last minute. This behaviour of mine baffles me as much as  my friends- its as if i have a hatred for money and wish to waste it away as much as possible and not gain anything in return. I have tried and tried to analyse this behaviour- constantly putting off something knowing fully well taht it is going to cost me.  Its like a form of slow mental self destruction that I am unable to control.  I try and practise discipline and it works but my natural tendency is to not do it until my ass is on fire.
The worst part is that when i do end up doing the cleaning or the italian learning I feel so happy I wonder why I was putting it off in the first place.

Take for example,this blog. For many years I have told myself that writing regularly would help shape my thoughts and help me become a better writer, but for all the initial paragraphs i frame in my head, possibly one hundredth find their way as a full post on this blog. I have no fears of failure when it comes to this blog and I genuinely enjoy writing and do believe it improves me significantly and yet this blog is amongst the top representatives of my procrastination. It is as if i have evolved to live in an extremely resource-constrained world that i need to avoid anything that is not crucial to my survival.

Now that I have documented it, let me see if it makes any difference.If it doesnt, well -atleast a blog post was written. And it wasn't even the one i had half-framed in my head.