The greatest city in the planet

"Its not a city, its an emotion. The city has a spirit which cannot be captured in words, it needs to be experienced"

Know which city I am talking about? Me neither. Because these kinds of lines can be applied to any city. The spirit of the people, the kindness in times of crisis etc will work on one city as well as it does on another. A few months back, after a particularly bad spell of rains, Chennai was incapacitated. And people came forward in droves to help. Volunteer centres sprang up at pivotal locations, people donated their time and money and ensured that the situation didnt go unmanageable.  A few years back when Mumbai was flooded, we heard stories of how people opened up their homes to strangers who were stranded on the roads, heartwarming stories were published in news papers about people coming forward selflessly to assist others. More recently, when the tragic fire broke out in a temple in Kerala, people queued up to donate blood.

What we do not acknowledge is that this behaviour is not unique to these cities. This is how people in general behave. Unless they are driven to fear for their families and loved ones, people always come forward to help others in crisis. Unless they are hiding behind the table fearing for their own life, they are always outside trying to improve the situation. 

This is not to say that any particular individual will come out or stay in. But when we take a large  sample, there are always enough people who come out to label the city helpful and kind. By this I do not intend to trivialise the fact that so many people came forward to assist, I only mean to say that they would have done so if they were in other cities as well. 

It is immensely satisfying to make a meme or a poster for the way your city rose up to a particular occasion, and while is nothing wrong in feeling happy or proud, realise  that what you are celebrating is not the spirit of a particular city , but that of mankind. 

Sunday evening Azures, ceruleans and prussians

"Social media bullshit expands to fill your time" - Me

My version of Parkinson's law is especially debilitating for me as I sit for hours on end surfing myself into a stupor. Entire afternoons get consumed, precious mornings disappear like dew under a harsh sun, leaving no trace of their existence.  Sometimes I wonder how people with an active FB, twitter AND instagram account manage to peel themselves off their laptops and get anything done. I  imagine I would be like one of those experimental lab rats with electrodes wired to their brains that give them a jolt of pleasure everytime they pull a lever. I would have a glazed, vaguely happy expression and would mindlessly keep pulling the lever ( or pressing some link) as my meandering instagram searches take me to great photos, great artists and way down the rabbithole. 

"You present a particularly morbid vision of social media", you complain. "Not everything on social media is bullshit. There are tons of knowledgeable articles and a lot of inspiration to be found on these pages". Of course, there is no doubt that there is inspiration and motivational articles. A glimpse at " Pocket Recommended" would  tell you that everyone is reading those articles like " The one habit you need to acquire to become super productive" or " Ten things you need to do after 10PM" or " Are you doing this every morning or you not having control of your day" and other similar ones. If only reading that one article could make us more productive, we would have not foolishly continued reading the other 10,000 that came after it. Or follow these sites on FB to get "your daily dose of motivation"

I have always been a vocal opponent of posting on FB , claiming it is mainly there for flaunting and image-crafting ( Term borrowed from Wait but Why). If you use FB to mildly deceive others into thinking you are a certain kind of person, you use Pinterest to deceive yourself that you are a certain kind of person. It is terrifying. I remember I used to try and beat the Sunday evening blues by losing myself in Pinterest. Pinning the perfect home, the perfect vacations, the perfect hairstyle etc. I used to do that for weeks, without realising that my hair was no better than it was few weeks earlier,  my home was still a dump and for all my Paris and Peru pins, I was stuck in Gurgaon.  And I do not know if it was a co-incidence, but I lost my Pinterest habit when I genuinely started traveling  ( not too much, an average of a trip per month), even if most of them were weekend trips. 

And as  I find myself going back to Pinteresty stuff again, it scares me. 

It seems like we use these sites as crutches or substitutes for actual work or travel. You have been doing Chinese take-away all week? Here, pin a healthy smoothie and feel better. No travel plans in the near future? No problem here are a dozen beautiful homes with a sea view that you can travel to. It is no one's fault. Obviously, it is easy to get dragged into this whirlpool of social media. And it provides the perfect escape. Unfortunately, the problem with the likes of Instagram is that eventually your battery drains out and you are left with your unglamorous self. 

What to expect when you are expecting a lot! ( hint: disappointment)

Expectations, ambition, content and wishing for happiness. All of us have these in varying degrees. Some of us are willing to give up ambition for contentment, while some are willing to sacrifice  happiness to achieve our ambitions. I don't know which is right- giving up on your happiness to achieve something good ( assuming your ambition has some good for the world as well)  or living a happy content life but one that ultimately amounts to nothing. Both are scary in their own way and both have their appeal. 

  A cookie cutter life might not be glamorous -the  one with a happy family and a weekend movie and mall visits and EMIs and work stress, commute, once a year vacations- mild happiness with surges of joy and sadness. But I do see the charm of it too. Even travel bloggers who have been on the move for many years start to crave for a base- that familiar grocer, the hairstylist who knows how you like it ( your hairstyle:P ) etc. There is something to be said about having  a relaxing coffee in your balcony overlooking whatever view your salary can afford. 

The other exotic alternative and the stuff of inspirational articles - a high flying career that is somehow intellectually satisfying, with enough time for horizon expanding travels seems a little far fetched- at least at this point. But that does not stop us from wishing for it. I suspect that this desire will somehow be my downfall- If ( or when ) I realise in my middle age that I have missed the bus on the exotic lifestyle, my disappointment will be so great that will not relish whatever enjoyment I can get from my current one. 

And that is the crux of the whole thing,

It does not matter whether you live the cookie cutter life or the exotic life as long as it is in line with your expectations. If you are one who chooses contentment and happiness over fame and ambition, you will be happy with the most typical of lives. The vanilla option. The default option if you live i a developed country or are rich in a developing country and have average luck.    If on the other hand you choose fame and ambition and want to make a difference, that is going to take a lot of effort. 

But if like me, you want fulfilment and exoticness but dont want to work for it, you are in for big trouble. 

Superpowers

 As I finished my duolingo lesson for the day feeling proud of myself looking at "2 day streak" ( Hey, a streak is a streak!) the familiar voice of self-doubt showed up. "Whats so great about learning Spanish? " Of course, finding words that are similar to Tamil and English is intriguing and leads to some thought on the history of languages.  But is there any basic benefit to learning another language that you are not likely to use?

As I contemplated this idly, the bigger question of what knowledge itself is loomed large. Is mere information considered knowledge?  Some people can rattle off statistics about say a sport and be admired for being knowledgeable while others are called a "frigging bore" because they cant stop talking about that one thing. Is knowledge a factor of the person, or like beauty, is it in the eyes of the beholder? One of my friends who is obsessed with aircrashes , impresses me with her knowledge and passion for it , but would I say the same if she was interested in military equipment or say, the construction industry?

While sitcoms should not be confused with reality- we cant deny that a real life Ross would be considered quite a bore too. And whats more, Ross himself called Geologists and botanists boring in the course of the show. While that was done for comic effect, you cant help wonder if that is how we all view each other.  You are knowledgeable if it is in a topic i am interested in, else shut up. Certain topics are universal- you  arent considered wise if your area of expertise is make-up. Knowledge about sports always signifies a certain macho quality, just as a deep interest in astrophysics or neurobiology firmly places you in the "interesting+ geek" category.

According to me, if a person's area of interest is in something that has no direct relevance to them or their work, it is admirable. A marketing executives knowledge about ads isnt going to impress me , or anyone else. They are simply good at their job. But if they had a special interest in say, cars, or mountaineering- something that has no direct relevance to the mainstream bit of their life- they move one step up in my respect ladder. Interest in things like sports and politics, do not count- although there may be exceptions.

Even in this post-google world of everything available at your fingertips, being knowledgeable has its advantages. A multilingual without a phone is a better than one who has google translate installed on his smartphone.  And so I conclude that, while I ( or this blogpost)  may not be able to explain why, a two day streak is definitely mucho buen.

Not as poignant as the google ad, but still...

Remember the home you spent your childhood summer holidays in? The one where you spent all afternoons running around trees or plucking fruits or throwing stones or whatever the hell it is you did as a kid. The one which makes you smile when you think about it. The place you can almost smell or feel on certain days- Yes, THAT house.

Now imagine you are told that it doesnt belong to your country anymore. You are political enemies now and since you are a potential threat to that country you will never ever be allowed to go back and visit. No, not even for one evening; not if you plead with the authorities that you  just want to see the place you grew up in and have no intention of blowing it up-your cousins live there, for heaven's sake. You apply and reapply in the hope that they might see sense but you are denied a visa every single time. 

While you are imagining this, there are some people for whom its true. 

We met one such person. Z, a Pakistani colleague who was born in India, whose cousins are in India.  When we were introduced to him as our "friendly neighbour" , I am ashamed to admit that I wondered if Indians and Pakistanis would be polite towards each other. I imagined it would be like putting Jesus and Mohammed in the same room and asking them to do some friendly networking. However, my apprehensions lasted for about ten seconds. The India team got along with him like a house on fire- his opening line to us was " Oh my god what are you guys doing to the West Indies". I was so happy and relieved- its not as if I thought he was a terrorist and I am not a big fan of patriosim and nationalism either. But the media has so deeply drilled the India Pakistan enmity into us, that even I was swayed. Conned into believing that maybe there was a fundamental difference between the two countries that went beyond political wars and trickery. And while I know that I am basing my judgements on the whole country by this one person  I am now fully convinced that we are essentially same the kind of people and the only thing that seperates us are political borders.( Of course, i knew it theoretically always, but now I feel it) Even the borders werent much of an issue in the early days, apparently.Until the 1960s, it was easy to go from India to Pakistan. Z's parents would pack their bags and decide to go to their cousins place in India on a whim.

But then we had to have a war. And create a situation where a Pakistani needs a visa for every city he wants to visit. (Did you know that? Pakistanis have city-specific visas for India) 

And thus it is that our friend Z could never ever visit his childhood home unfortunately located in the sacred hotspot of Varnasi  Its even sadder to think that in a decade or two, there will be no one with these memories, no images of childhood spent in India that makes them so open to meeting Indians. We would have a generation which grew up amidst war, listening to stories of how Pakistanis killed their relatives and what not. A generation which has no pleasant associations with Pakistan.

I am tempted to be cynical and say they are doomed, but who knows-Maybe they too will meet their Z equivalents and experience the joy of having their beliefs shattered, to their pleasant surprise.  After all, I belong to that generation and I have never meant "It was a pleasure to meet you" as much as I did with Z.

I sing the blues

Within a week of returning from our mindblasting trip to NZ, I was packing to go to Colombo. If you are thinking wow, she must be a globetrotting traveler, let me stop you right there.

I was going for an office trip.

So, while the rest of the travelers were snorkeling in Hikkaduwa, or watching whales in Mirissa I was going to spend three days inside a conference room listening to hastily made presentations, discussions on sales plans and participating in mind-numbing networking. As you can imagine, I was looking forward to it as much as much as I look forward to a Monday morning. The evenings were filled with award ceremonies and more opportunities to bond with colleagues over free drinks- Nothing better than discussing business with drunk colleagues! I knew how Sita felt- imprisoned alone with strange creatures around her speaking a strange language asking her to do things she wasnt the least bit interested in.

But I had it better than Sita. Between free time snatched during boring sessions or dinner with sane colleagues( by sane I mean those who ditched official meals for outside ones) , going to clean beaches after the events or before, and exploring a couple of sweet cafes- Colombo entertained much more than I expected it to. The city was clean and green- something India can vaguely grasp as a concept, but can never implement. The sea does its job pretty well- tirelessly hitting against rocks. And its almost meditative to watch it do that in the mornings before you start your day. And to do so with your favourite person from the office is a delight. A foreign place (even if it feels exactly like Madurai) is a good experience- you end up seeing at least a couple of different things. I had wandered into a railway station and I felt I was in 1900s-the trains were steamrollers! And in the place where we dined on the last day, as we were getting ready to leave, we saw a huge turtle trying to lay eggs! Perhaps the turtle felt bad for those of us who couldnt snorkel to visit it, so it was graciously visiting us. Orrrr it was cursing us for standing and while it was trying to procreate.

 As I snoozed my alarm on the day we were supposed to leave, I didnt realise that I was missing the opportunity to go for an early morning stroll- the last one I would get to do in Colombo. But I told myself its OK- Surely I would come back. For the snorkeling and the whales and a chance to go on the Ramayana trails. And most definitely to feel rich, for its one of the few places where the currency is weaker than the Indian rupee.

Yes, I definitely had it better than Sita.

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.