A Binary Ashlet
I am feeling weightlessness.
As if I am in water. Or the gravity is missing around me. Like a one word sentence. Like. This.
Just checked if 10101011 or 10001110 are travelling around. The binary numbers.
No. No data transfer. Bold but not bold enough.
All data packets are following some instructions.
For no internet for 72 hours. In a state in India, in August 2017.
As if a soldier is denied his right to perform duty on a state border, for missing out on a punctuation mark in a letter to his son.
Everything in our life is connected in 1 or 0. (A union of family at an airport. A delivery in a hospital. And business transactions worth $$$…$$.)
The leaders just borrow this mode while making decisions — 1 or 0. They draw signal for a router as if they are drawing a border on a map.
You wonder who I am?
I am a little trace of an ash that was flying over the burnt cars in sector 5, Panchkula. An ashlet.
I am black. Like the face of that soldier who saw me taking shape in the car. Clueless, and wondering — “Why?”
I stopped over a road in sector 12 because I was thinking in 01001110. A puff of air helped me. As if it adopted me for five seconds. Not because it cared for me but because it just followed the natural order.
I crossed over a barbed wire. The soldiers standing there could not cross it — because they are made to respond like a data packet.
I am an offspring of that burnt car. I had mass and I mattered. On top of that, I got this grey coating by this conceived-and-agreed-spark in 1 and 0. The agreement was for 72 hours. As if they could seal my destiny. And it did. Of many others too. I saw a lyricist who struggled to pen down a song because his glass was empty. So many. Empty. Glasses.
Now I am weightless. I do not matter.
I am confused whether I contributed to the outcome, or the outcome contributed to my existence. Whether sickness manufactures a cigarette or a cigarette leads to sickness.
Unless the leadership (which means (leadership plus followership plus middlelayership) minus (the dogs plus the ashes)) pulls up some weight in their minds and in their legs, the soldiers and the data packets will continue doing what they are not supposed to do (ideally). They are meant for real and bigger challenges (their jobs), and not to get stuck at a router settings. This investment is not worth the game. And this means that the makers and doers will continue to see me flying around. In the language of data packets.
Let there be a connected life. Not again a 72 hours’ binary hold.
If you are reading these lines, I am yet to settle. I could transfer this data packet on a borrowed leadership. Few more hours of me. Then — let there be less of me. A Binary Ashlet.
Photo by Anastasia Polischuk on Unsplash
Vinish Garg | Products. Experience. Stories.
I am a EEES (External Eye Experience Specialist) for startups and their goals, for content, UX, and for customer experience. Connect with me via @vingar or at vinishgarg.com.
