Close your eyes! No? Okay, your choice. Think of your best fan fiction universe. DC? Marvel? Harry Potter? Game of Thrones? Asimov? Norse? Greek? Egyptian? Starwars? Startrek? The one with zombies? vampires? What if I told you that these compare nothing to the oldest, longest, and most plagiarized OG, epic? I mean an actual epic. A tale as old as time.

Get your warm blanket, make some hot chocolate, order on Doordash or zomato, turn off notifications and gather around kids, let me re/introduce you to Mahabharata, with over a hundred thousand verses, six times the size of the western epics of Illiad and Odyssey, the greatest story ever told and retold in many languages, in many countries, over many centuries. Also, relax, we won’t go over thousand verses.

Regardless of how you landed here, let me remind you that this piece is for the curious, not the religious, patriotic or purist types. If you have a favorite character or God from Indian, or any other mythology, chances are that we will examine them, critique them and maybe even mock them. We shall attempt to do that for any other beliefs, constructs, dogmas, countries, gods and governments. If that makes you cringe, binge something else.

For the rest of us, much like Anand Gandhi and his team, I see stories as survival technology. They carry wisdom forward and let us practice the future. Democracies, ideologies, and economies were stories once. They were blueprints for a world someone imagined. In stories, we test a choice, see a road to its end, and learn without injury.

About the author and his verses [5 tweets]

It is said that Vyasa was born on boat. His mom, a fisherwoman, Satyavati conceived Vyasa instantly after meeting his dad, Parashara in the middle of the Yamuna river. (Yamuna is a big deal in India. If the Ganges were Batman, Yamuna is Robin.) So our Vyasa dude was born a full-grown stud, packed with wisdom and six packs. And he abandoned his parents instantly, who possibly were relieved because who knows how much raising kids cost back then.

By the way, back then is about 1500 BCE. Folks then too were worried that spirituality is on a decline, kids don’t listen, and that one neighbor is too loud. And our man Vyasa had this huge 100,000 para song in his head and was just too lazy to put his thoughts down.

Enter Ganesha, the elephant headed God, who is known to be the only acceptably chubby diety who commutes on a rat. Ganesha goes “Sure, I will jot this down. But I have a condition.” Vyasa “?” Ganesha, “You can’t stop narrating. No pee breaks for ya!” Vyasa goes “Sure, but you can’t just type it without understanding. Deal?” G: “Deal!” And so the legend goes, that Vyasa narrated the story without peeing and Ganesha wrote it with complete comprehension.

There is one challenge though, it is 1500 BCE and paper is yet to be invented. Historians now agree that Mahabharata was fully developed down somewhere between 400 BCE to 400CE. Physicists frown on that speculative range. Possibly the first written version did not show up till the Mauryans inked it in paper in ~400 BCE. (The Mauryans were a bid deal. Present day animal rights activists would be upset at them though because they had a large cavalry of elephants that they rammed into anyone that challenged their supremacy.)

So Mahabharata had to be a poem. A very very long poem. An epic. It was recited for a thousand years before it was jotted down on paper. Obviously it morphed through generations, politics, sponsors and the sand dunes of time. But as Vyasa nudged Ganesha, I nudge you to too, do not let the story deter you from the message. There is a lot to learn from the plot, nuance and characters of this great epic!

Prologue [6 tweets]

There is king who is doing a snake sacrifice. I should have given vegans a heads up of upcoming trigger warnings. His name is Janmajeya. He is not that important. You could be Janmajaya. Metaphorically speaking. Try not to throw snakes in the fire.

He is just a descendant of the protagonists of this story. Let’s say you finally got that job or title and you are in the arena now. You will meet a bunch of characters. Your friends have hosted a party for you.

Vyasa is in the audience congratulating you and is near the mic ready to recite his 100k-verse long poem. Except he needs a translator just as wise and humble as him, so he picks me to warn you about the key trappings of human nature. But he also knows people don’t listen so he masks his message as a story, and then says God wrote it, so if you were a believer think it kinda is important. So pay attention, you will meet these characters in real life. They will occasionally emerge from within you and they have nothing to whether or not you believe in a God.

A lot of verses are spent explaining the lineage. There is this king. His name is Bharat. He is a great king. Not because this is India, but because this is 1500 BC, it is a patriarchial society. Eldest first born male is kind of a big deal. And the kingdom is supposed to go the the eldest son, grandson, or nephew. They are vague about it and that causes a big war a few generations down the line. A war of the scale of a present day world war. You can now forget Bharat.

Except, the sitting king is sitting on his throne. His name is Drithrastra. He is blind, both physically and morally but since his sons, all 100 of them are fighting on the battlefield and he wants to see what is going on. Vyasa offers his highly divine, highly potent reading glasses in the form of a a super divine boon. Drithrastra refuses and delegates these to his charioteer, Sanjay, who narrates what is going on in the battlefield.

Why does D ignore the glasses? IDK, some people just love being ignorant. They are scared that if they suddenly stop being blind, they may have to face the truth. He kinda regrets it later but we shall leave that to a future tweet. But our D-man, is the daddy of D-clan and he is a complex character. Much like all the others we shall meet.

Location, set and setting [8 tweets]

Our story begins in Hastinapur. (Finally!) It is on the bank of the Ganges. Never been there but looked it up on Google Earth. Checks out. Present day, like many fallen empires, it is not even a shadow of it’s former glory. Like if stopped you any Indian on the street and asked them to name 10 Indian cities, Hastinapur will not make the list. But before it became this armpit of nowhere, it was the throne of the Kuru dynasty, started by King Kuru.

King Kuru had a son, his name is Shanatanu. (You can refer to the family tree above.) His first wife was Ganga, the river, but also a lady. Our man did not stop at one, he also married Vyasa’s mom, Satyavati. Remember Vyasa? He’s our author! He had left at birth and he was born out of wedlock. Anyways his mum used to smell like fish, but his dad granted her a boon that would make her smell amazing after their union and also magically made her a virgin again after Vyasa left. Not my version. This is Vyasa’s version. Very similar to a woman named Mary in the catholics.

The same fragrance attracted Shantanu, who was so intoxicated that he forgot his current son and wife. Satyavati’s dad was hesitant. S’ dad “You already have a son, right?” “Yeah.” “You can have her hand in marriage but your first son can’t be the next king.” “Sure. Let me check with him. But just the hand? Or all of it?” “You can have it all.” (There is also another backstory on why he is so head over heals for her but we wont get into that.)

Shantanu mucks around depressed and his son, Bhishma, cant see him sulk. When asked his father shares about his new found kink and Bhishma immediately takes a pinky swear that he wont ever marry, keep it in his pants, renounce the throne. By doing so he avoids a lot of future conflicts around the succession of the Kuru throne. His dad rewards him a boon that his son can pick his time of death. More on that later. He ain’t dying anytime soon but Shantanu calls it a ride shortly.

As fate would have it, Satyavati has two sons, the eldest one is crowned king but he soon dies in combat and the other, who succeeds the throne, dies childless (allegedly of tuberculosis) despite having two wives. Now Kuru dynasty is left with no successor. There is panic and Satyavati goes back to Bhishma and asks him to marry the widows of her late son.

Bhishma is the type who takes pinky swears too seriously. Naturally, he refuses and Satyavati has to go back to Vyasa, yes, the author-Vyasa, who serves as the sperm donor of sorts and this results in two boys, Pandu and D-man (Drithrastra).

The boys are young so Bhishma (their vow-abiding-super-elder-step-brother) takes a governance role in the kingdom and raises the kids since Vyasa was just there to deposit the Y-gene. D-man is eldest, but he is also blind. Has something to do with his mom closing her eyes as Vysasa did his thing. (Vyasa is not particularly prince charming. Quite the opposite.) D-man is born blind (literally and morally) because of Vyasa getting mad and cussing his mum.

Pandu, the other child, is born pale because his mom manages to not close her eyes but still goes pale. Vyasa is a good author with a lot of time at hand but has some anger issues that he can convert to high-impact curses. Anyways, the two sons are born and the dynastic succession issue is solved. For now. Vyasa goes back to meditating or spreading wisdom or shoving angry curses but he continues to follow the plot-line.

Fast forward… 24 generations [6 tweets]

Bharat, was also probably another candidate in the list of baby names for India when it was a young country. The name did not particularly make it to the trash bin and continues to linger in a nation obsessed with nostalgia. Bharat, the great king, was around 24 generations before D-man and Pandu. 23 prior to Shantanu, 22 prior to Kuru, you get the gist… Look.. this was before TikTok. Things moved slowly.

Now D-man, Drithrashtra, is the eldest. He is blind. Literally and morally. You know that. His vow-abiding-super-elder-step-brother and other local village elder, Vidura, the prime minister of the Kuru dynasty, decide that D-man is unfit to be the king. D-man outwardly accepted this decision but perpetually sulked from the inside and was always insecure for the rest of the movie.

The only thing the man could see was his resentment. He thought patriarchy and autocracy are totally fair. “I get dibs on the throne. Not my fault, I was born blind. Why couldn’t mum keep her eyes open when Vyasa did his thing? Now my step-brother, a boy named Pandu, gets to be the king? I vow to be unhappy, grieving and insecure for things I can’t control.”

So his step brother, Pandu, is crowned the king. But Pandu is Pandu. He has his own issues. Although he checks all the boxes for the promotion. Virtuous. Check. Not-blind. Check. Nepo-baby. Check. He has other vices. Like he likes to act on impulses, without thinking things through.

Packed with this rashness and a quiver of arrows he goes into the forest for hunting. Hearing some rustling he shoots one from the hip without much thought. This arrow hits a couple of deers in action. They are mating. When Pandu moves closer the deers magically turn into humans.

One of this human is a sage. Name is not that important because he dies in like 5 more seconds. But in those 5 seconds he curses Pandu, “You too shall die if you try to make love to anyone!” As you may have noticed ancient Indian stock market runs on boons on curses. This now-dead sage is called Kindama, if you care. We wont hear of him ever again. (Salman bhai did not read this bit, he had his own fan fiction. Do better.)

At this point, Pandu has two wives and no kids. Kuru dynasty is just hell bent in messing up with structures of nepotism, which took several centuries to establish. On the bright side, D-man has a better day because now there is more hope for him. If he is disabled because he is blind, Pandu, he imagines will soon die, just a matter of time before the vices take over. Pandu manages to keep it in his pants for a little bit. But we know he is impulsive…

The next generation, D-clan or Kauravas [7 tweets]

Although secretly he enjoys this recent turn of events, D-man is not particularly having a joy ride. His wife, Gandhari, who walks around blindfolded to be supportive, has been pregnant for two years. D-man, in the mean time, gets her maid pregnant.

Gandhari gives birth to a gigantic lump of flesh and everyone calls back upon Vyasa (yes, the author,) as he has a reputation of solving for issues around lineage and fertility. Vyasa set’s up his IVF clinic of sorts. Sprinkles water on the lump of flesh which suddenly splits into 101 thumb-like pieces.

Now D-man wants his child to be a king so it is basic math to have all eggs in the boy basket. Vyasa, gets like 101 baskets or canisters, fills them with butter (pure shudh desi ghee) and does Vyasa things to keep his fan fiction going. He ages these things like some fine wine. All are born with cholesterol issues because of the butter. Their descendants inherit that trait to this day.

Gandhari, an early feminist, way ahead of her time, except for the voluntary-blind-fold for life, wants a girl child. Vyasa, a fair and just man, grants her wish and puts 100 lumps and labels the 100 canisters XY, and labels the one remaining, XX.

D-man suddenly is back in the game. D-man has one hundred and two children in quick succession. First born is from the IVF treatment, Duryodhan (henceforth, called D-2). Second child has a Japanese sounding name, Yuyutsu, he is born from the maid. But he is socially accepted because things with the IVF experiment did not look quite promising for a prolonged period.

Some other kids worth noting are Dushyasana (D-3 for future) and the daughter, Dushala. We don’t need to give her any name with letters as she is here purely for DEI purposes and is referenced rarely except for the sad fate she had to face because of her brothers. Not Yuyutsu though. Yuyutsu slays, drips and slaps, for my younger audience. We will just call the other 98 kids, D-clan. They don’t seem to be very individualist and follow whatever D-man, D-2 and D-3 suggest.

Also, D-man does not believe this all-kids-are-equal philosophy. He loves D-man the most because he is setting him up as the successor and just waiting for Pandu to do something stupid. Finally, Kuru descendants of this generation are called Kauravas, we, for convenience, will call them D-clan.

The next generation, cont., P-men [9 tweets]

We know about Pandu’s curse. Get kinky, loose your life in a winky. So Pandu, technically cannot father a child but he has two wives but somehow he manages to have 5 sons to succeed him. They are called Pandavas, we will call them P-men.

One of them, named Kunti, before her married life, was living at the house of her adoptive father. Enter another sage, Durvasa, eccentric, of course. He first put up an unreasonable demeanor. Kunti put up with that. Patriarchy and such. He is pleased that she is still hospitable despite his tantrums and to perpetuate patriarchy as a moral, he grants her a boon. She can now recite a mantra to invoke any God, and have them as a sperm donor. Only one condition though, they have to be male.

Pandu was depressed and asked Kunti to go arrange for a donor. Kunti told him about the little powerful limerick she had known about all along. Pandu’s back in the game. And because he is not well travelled and he doesn’t know about Zeus or Ra or Thor, so thinks about Yama, the hindu God of Justice and death. Kunti sings the poem. Out pops Yudhishtir (Yes-man).

Yes-man, says yes to all good things. Yes-man is righteous, almost to a flaw. He is just, almost to a flaw. He is honest, you guessed it, to a flaw, just can’t throw an occasional white lie. He is trapped with ideals like honor, doing-the-right-thing-even-unto-the-enemy. He is a diligent, straight-A student with basically no street smarts. This will lead to some dumb moves and a downfall. But everyone thinks he is a good kid and he gets the totally undeserved street cred that comes with the title of the first-born.

Pandu is kinda bored with the guy. He summons Kunti again, who then summons the wind God as the next sperm donor. Out pops Bhima. He is always hungry, angry or haangry. Short tempered, soft hearted, straight shooter, he is the Hulk if these are avengers. Except hulk when not angry is a brilliant nuclear physicist. Bhima has no personality outside of eat food, smash enemies, and say things as they are.

As these two boys lack the well-rounded personality, Pandu looks at Kunti again. This time she calls upon Indra, the god of the gods. He has many attributes like Zeus. God of Gods check. Uses thunder and lightning. Check. Romantic escapades. Check. Indulgent. Double check. Human-like flaws. Super check. Except that Zeus is an actual God and Indra is a title that is granted to the most worthy leader.

Out of this union, is born Arjuna. If you squint more than necessary this dude is the protagonist of sorts, but that is a very narrow view IMO. He loves archery, just like his dad. Except his bow is not the rainbow, he gives it a name, calls in Gandiva, not to be confused with the popular confectionary brand, Godiva. He is also very insecure. He is like the fifth best archer but marketed like the best one. More on that later. But broadly he is a good kid, courageous, skilled, intelligent, loyal, and dutiful warrior. But insecure and has complex emotions. A lot more on this later.

Now Pandu’s other wife is sad that she does not have kids of her own. Her name is Madri. You see they are sort of rivals right. But then Madri is super nice towards Kunti and Pandu just keeps wanting more kids to secure his lineage. Kunti is also getting bored just summoning random Gods as sperm donors so she invokes the boon one last time on behalf of Madri.

She invokes some lesser important twin Gods of healing and medicine. I can guarantee you that most Indians wont be able to name them and you can look smart at the next imaginary social gathering you plan to attend. These Gods are the Ashwini kumaras. Nobody particularly prayed to them in the pandemic. Anyways, two boys are born. We get Nakul, who is good looking and is good with horses. And Sahadev, who is a living contradiction who somehow excels both as astrology and strategy. Both are good at warcraft. All P-men are.

Kunti’s secret [3 tweets]

When Kunti was first granted the boon by Durvasa, she was but a teenager. She was curious about this divine power. Not the one to curb her dreams she invoked the sun god who impregnated her with some hydrogen and helium. This gave birth to a child who was born with a golden armor, golden earrings, platinum character, titanium skillset. This dude had everything. Except he is born out of wedlock. Teen pregnancy, the way nature intended it, ain’t cool now, wasn’t cool back then.

After midnight, when all poor decisions prevail, Kunti puts this untitled kid in a basket, with practical things like perfumes and such and sends him down the river Ganga. A childless charioteer family finds him, is stunned by this gold studded baby and immediately decides to adopt him. They named him Vasusena, but due to his golden earrings, everyone called him Karna. Don’t ask me why. Maybe the same reason they call Roberts, Bob? Then a lot of typos led to many Indian baby’s being named Karan. Even bollywood named a movie, Karan Arjun. Different plot though. Some other day.

Karna is Kunti’s first-born and that is Kunti’s secret. He is the son of sun and as such is omnipotent. Just unlucky, as you shall soon see…

Pandu’s sabbatical [6 tweets]

Pandu was the kind of the guy who enjoyed the title but not the responsibilities. Think of your neighbourhood exec. When things are going great he is hanging out by the throne but this whole curse bears on him. “A king who can not have a next in kin? What will my subjects say?” Besides with all the luxuries surrounding him, it was very easy to succumb to carnal pleasures.

So Pandu takes a sabbatical and his wives join him. He hands the throne to D-man, Dristrashtra, his elder brother, as the interim-king. D-man is blind. His kids are small. Pandu is not insecure about this decision. This is before all the sperm donation drive with the Gods and the birth of the P-men (Pandavas).

Now Pandu, despite his flaws, and our mockery, is a noble king, beloved by his subjects. He is still reckless though. After many years in the forest, in this self-imposed sabbatical, he suddenly notices one thing, Madri is incredibly beautiful and charming. Compelled by desire he approaches towards her. She warn him about the curse. Too late. Pandu’s embraces her and faces an instant death. Hastinapur, the kingdom, is very sad. D-man is secretly happy.

Madri is stung by regret and jumps in her husband’s funeral pyre. This barbaric practice was supposedly voluntary but driven by patriarchy of the time. Pre-partion India on December 4, 1829, under British colonial law led by Lord William Bentinck, nudged by Raja Ram Mohan Roy formally banned this practice.

Even at that time, people tried to reason with her. Lady wouldn’t listen. She requested Kunti to take care of Nakul and Sahdev as her own and self-immolated herself. If you are paying attention, Satyavati, the matriarch, great-grandmum of Pandavas and Kauravas (P-men and D-men), grandmother of Pandu and Drithrastra (D-man), mother of Vyasa, the author, that Satyavati, worries that her kingdom will devolve after Pandu’s death. Since Vyasa her son is writing the script, he suggests that she retire to the forest (old-age home of ancient India). For those who have already forgotten the key people, fam-tree below.

Kunti raises the five young boys in the forest for a bit but then returns to Hastinapur. This complicates things for the new matriarch and a new power struggle for the throne begins. Technically, D-man is eldest but he is only the interim-king. Kids are still young. Pandu is dead. Who will be the next king? A lot of resentment follows and D-men do shitty things.

Treachery [2 tweets]

Duryodhana (D-1) was incompetent at setting up ploys since childhood and the P-boys were very gullible. He once served Bhima (the hulk) a poison-spiked feast — a suspiciously move to begin with. Bhima was a glutton and as soon as unconsciousness claimed him, D-boys had him bound and tossed into the depths of the Ganges, assuming the river and its residents would settle the matter.

At the river’s mysterious depths, Bhima encountered the Nagas, serpent beings whose venom oddly played a reverse Uno card. Revived and recognized as a kin by the Naga king and elders connected to Kunti’s lineage, Bhima was gifted a potent elixir, strengthening him further. He went from being Hulk, to incredible Hulk.

The Inflammable AirBnb [2 tweets]

D-1 did not stop there. He had many failed ploys. Many years later he had a palace made entirely of highly flammable lac, ghee, resin, and oil — because who wouldn’t can turn down a vacation in a fire hazard? He had his trusty, nefarious architect, Purochana build this “ cozy” spot in Varnavata and invited the Pandavas (P-men) and Kunti to stay for a festival. The plan: ignite the Airbnb while the family dozed on a sugar high, no messy confrontations required.

Luckily, Uncle Vidura, the family’s stealthy guardian angel, tipped off the Pandavas and arranged a secret tunnel for their grand escape. When Purochana finally got lit — literally — the Pandavas slipped out through the hidden exit, leaving the burning Purochana behind. D-1 was publicly shamed but he was a nepo baby so he did escape punishment but he was sort of cancelled after this episode. There were other such examples, but this was a keystone project when it came to burning his public image. His reputation never recovered after this.

Training, college debt and a mini war… [14 tweets]

Every war needs a new batch of young people trained to fight on behalf of the old. Training is key. It is best when sprinkled with patriotism and such. This task is upon Drona and Kripa to train both sides of this future war.

Drona was friends with another king, Drupadh. They were pretty close growing up and pinky swear a lifelong friendship. Drupadh, probably drunk, promises his bestie half the kingdom once nepotism hands him his privilege. This eventually happens, Drona reminds him of the promise and Drupadh mocks Drona publicly and says “Friendship can only happen between equals. You can’t be serious. You are too poor!”

After failing to learn the lesson of documenting everything, Drona does the mature thing to do here. He holds a lifelong grudge against his former best friend. Thus originates the trite nugget of wisdom, who needs enemies when we make dumb choices picking our friends. Every action he takes after this point comes from this position of pettiness, insecurity and embarrassment. Separately, Drona is a tenured professor of warcraft, specializing in Archery.

A quick note of Kripa. Kripa was born in an unconventional way from the semen of the warrior-sage Sharadvan. Sharadvan was performing intense penance to become invincible, which alarmed the gods. To distract him, they sent the celestial nymph Janapadi to distract him. When Sharadvan lost control after seeing her, his semen fell on some weeds, which then split and gave birth to the twins Kripa and his sister Kripi. Kripa was then trained in archery by his birth father and grew to become a great archer and teacher. He was a calm, background presence in the chaos. He was also immortal, so he probably hanging out there somewhere at some pub excelling at darts or teaching some future Olympian archery.

Kripi married Drona and they had a son, Ashwathamma. We will come back to him later. Let’s go back to the students.

Pandavas (P-men) and Kauravas (D-clan) both learned from Kripa and Drona. Here is a sample of Drona’s teaching style. All the teenager boys are summoned. A wooden bird is perched on a tree. Target is set, it is the eye of the bird. All students stand in a line handed a ow and arrow and Drona asks, “What do you see?” “Trees” “Branches” “Sky” “Clouds” “Wooden bird”. All acceptable responses for any normal human being.

Not to Drona, he dismisses everyone. Then comes Arjun. (Remember to squint, then this guy looks like the protagonist.) Arjun is text-book teacher’s pet. Drona asks his star student, “What do you see, Arjun?” “I see the eye of a bird.” “Okay. Aim. Fire.” Arjun knocks of the target and this story is taught to kids around India as an exemplar of focus, right after introducing them to so many characters just to confuse them.

Everyone claps. Arjun’s ego is stoked. Drona’s eyes shine in pride. You see, tuitions were not prohibitively expensive in those days. All you had to do is give a donation to your guru after they taught you a skill or two that helped you in the real world. Not before as is common in present day. Drona did not believe in this setup. He told his students that they have to win him back half the kingdom from his former friend. Many kings learned that if you want young men to follow you on your grudges, get them young. All the countries that mandate military service for the youth stole a page from Drona’s book.

This setup was not without flaws and these teen boys had to be royals. There was class system and privilege and nepotism involved in this. They then took the kids to some forest and they had to serve the Gurus in a place called Gurukul. The rich parents then bestowed the guru’s with a lot of donations. Guess the world was not too different back then.

Take Eklavya for example. Ekalavya was a young prince of the Nishada tribe who wanted to learn archery from Dronacharya. However, Drona refused to teach him because Ekalavya was not from the royal lineage and also because he wanted to keep Arjuna as his top student.

Undeterred, Ekalavya made a clay idol of Dronacharya in the forest and practiced archery with unwavering devotion to this statue, considering Drona as his guru. Over time, he became an exceptionally skilled archer, even surpassing the royal princes. When Drona learned of Ekalavya’s skill, he went to meet him and, feeling threatened about Arjuna’s dominance, demanded Ekalavya’s right-hand thumb as a guru dakshina (teacher’s fee). Without hesitation, Ekalavya severed his thumb and offered it to Drona, effectively crippling his archery skills but demonstrating profound respect and dedication to his guru.

If you ask me this was a dumb move but this story is hailed in India because it promotes gerontocracy over meritocracy. (Read older is better, not smarter is better.) Ekalavya’s story is celebrated as a symbol of ultimate devotion and sacrifice. This toxicity puts undeserving teacher’s at a pedestal. Was Drona undeserving? From Eklavya’s context, I think so. For a deep thinker this also raises questions about fairness and privilege in traditional guru-disciple relationships.

Luckily for Drona, very few deep thinkers read the story or caught this hypocrisy and he would go down as the best teachers in history. Kripa did not care. He knew he was good and that was good enough for him. He did not have Drona’s LinkedIn-cringe energy. Plus, you know he knows he is immortal, Drona’s gonna die. Anyone who outlives others, wins. He is wise, influences from the background but is always very much in the arena. My kinda guy!

Let’s touch on Arjun real quick. D-boys and P-boys unite to impress their tutor. Although Drupadh defeated the Kauravas initially, the Pandavas led by Arjuna ultimately overpowered Drupadh’s forces. Arjuna singled out and captured Drupadh who was probably exhausted by the second round. Arjun bound him in ropes and brought him before Drona. Drona, petty as he was, released Drupadh but took half of his kingdom as the tuition fee and gave this peice of land to his son, Ashwatthama.

Enter, the damsel [3 tweets]

Drupadh is hurt, goes back, does the most practical thing and lights a fire, a sacrificial fire. Drupadh conducted this fire ritual to obtain a powerful son capable of taking on Drona. Plot twist. A son named Dhrishtadyumna, (we will give him a pet name later) stepped out, followed by Draupadi, the fiery princess. She was born from the flames, which gave her an otherworldly aura. A celestial voice decreed that she would bring about the downfall of the Kuru lineage…

Known also as Panchali (from Panchala) and Yajnaseni (child of the sacrificial fire), Draupadi was renowned for her extraordinary beauty, wisdom, and strength. Her birth was marked by an aura of divine purpose and mystery.

Many jaws dropped to the floor in her presence. She was gorgeous, quick-witted and commanded any room she walked into. Regal, graceful and resolute. Modern adaptations also add a flirtatious smirk to her persona. Not the Vyasa’s version though. Vyasa’s boring. But you can read the entire Mahabharata from Draupadi’s point of view, in a book by the name, Palace of Illusions. Unless you want me to tell you the rest of it. There is unrequited love, property dispute, war, betrayal, and death… Stay tuned. Next bit to follow shortly. Audio and translations will be next.

INTERMISSION

Before we expand on patriarchy. Let us talk about matriarchy. Elephants are matriarchal. The matriarch leads the herd, guiding them to food and water and managing threats. She controls the social network, balancing group needs. The family unit consists of her daughters, sisters, and their babies, with the matriarch providing essential stability.

Apes were thought to be opposite. We have learned that this is not true. Researchers like Rebecca Lewis suggest that the perception of universal male dominance might stem from:

• Early research bias
• Chance in initial primate species studied
• Researchers’ own perspectives

Interestingly, when our human ancestors split from other apes, chimps and bonobos (matriarchs) were not yet separate species, meaning we share equal kinship with both. This genetic proximity further challenges simplistic assumptions about inherent male dominance in primate societies.

Let’s travel to 1930, undivided India. My paternal grandfather was coming of age. India was still under the British rule. He had seven siblings that made to adulthood. He was the eldest male who was by and large responsible for all his siblings, getting the sisters wed and the only brother educated. He dropped out of school in 4th grade but continued to quiz any person he met with the weirdest math puzzles one may find.

He and his sibling inherited some land after the British left. They chose to discard the title “Patil” which was common among Maharashtrian landlords and were later adopted as surnames. Other common ones include:

1. Dhar (North India)
2. Roy/Rai (Bengal)
3. Thakur/Tagore (North India)
4. Malik (North India, Urdu-speaking regions)
5. Rao (South India)
6. Chaudhary/Chowdhury (North India)
7. Reddy (South India)
8. Desai (Gujarat)

No land is worth much without water and to date the village he, his siblings, my father and my uncles were born in have no water. In fact, just two weeks ago, most of us got scolded for diving into the neighbor’s well as we turned off the motor and took turns plunging in.

My grandfather was a farmer and a trader. He grew marigolds (which originate in Mexico and share cultural significance there too), Jowar (sorghum) and Bajra (pearl millet). He married my grandmother around the time India was declared a Republic and they had four children. My father being their first.

For most of his life, the village had no electricity, no potable water and no sanitization. He worked long hours in scorching heat. Taught his brother and my father on loans with 18 to 24% interest and lived a life of hardship that when described in newspaper stories, typically ends with the farmer ending his own life. And as far as my memory serves, I have never seen him complain. Often makes me wonder if I was adopted into the kin.

Like every family, his family had a few characters. Very, very selfish characters. I would go with him and watch him carry water that would then be heated on firewood and I would feel super guilty after taking a bath. (That is typically how you learn how to swim, if you spend too many summers in a village.) On these walks, I would occasionally ask him about his dealings and he would let me ramble, pretend he had not heard me, let me change several topics and when I would least expect it, drop something like. “त्यांच्या डोक्यात पाणी असल्यासारखं ते वागतांत म्हणून आपण तसं वागायचं का?” All this while carrying about 40 litres of hard water!

There are two banyan trees in our village. One by the townsquare and other by our house. The house used to be a mud+cow-dung house with dry foliage as the roof well into my teens. It may seem disgusting to some but there are some real pros to such design making it suitable for rural India. This is what perplexity spit out as construction benefits:

• Provides a waterproof layer when applied to walls and floors.
• Acts as a thermal insulator, helping to regulate indoor temperatures.
• Contains natural fibers and minerals that enhance structural integrity.

I spent half my summers here. Just playing with the goat (before it was sacrificed), waiting for the hens to lay eggs, on the makeshift swing or hammock, eating sitaphal (custard-apple) (then local, now global delicacy), or learning how to swim. Most people tell me I still dive wrong and do not get in a fetus position before the plunge and get slapped all over by the time I am done.

Over the years, my father, compelled by my grandfather and the civil engineer in him build 3 rooms. These were the biggest structure in the village when these were built. 3 for each of the 3 sons as my grandfather perhaps wanted and never quite explicitly mentioned.

I wasn’t the only one who travelled. My grandfather visited us too. Infact, my oldest memory of him is when I was 5 or 6. He came in his all white attire, a dhoti, a shirt-like top with a lot of hidden pockets and when I opened the door and saw him I asked, “किती दिवसांसाठी आलात?”, he responded “का रे, बाळ?” My mom had to step in and explain that loves having people and is just curious. This is true even today both about having people and asking inappropriate questions. Also, the need to have adult supervision and a translator around to avoid social discomfort.

He had a peculiar way of greeting his grandkids. He would sit, drink water, take our right arm and gently bite it. If he had a towel (pancha) on his shoulder, occasionally he would wipe the saliva off. Naturally, some people found it disgusting. I always found it amusing. This tradition of his is not very prevalent in the region. Or so I thought. Does not seem to be cultural. Or so I thought. He just seemed to have invented it. As we grew older he did it less and less.

He rarely asked anything from his siblings, his kids, his spouse, his kids-in-laws or grandkids. When I travelled after my first job, I got him a pen that looked as white as his attire. He either lost it or gave it away so I got him a stick that had LED lights for him to get about in the dark. (The village does not have reliable source of power or connectivity to this day.) That thing he showed off for as long as he could walk.

A few years back a couple of white friends travelled on the occasion of my wedding and I ended up being a translator-and-witness to one the most popular things I have ever shared on the internet.

For 95 years of his life, the village barely evolved. The population stayed constant at about a thousand people. When he passed away last Monday he was the oldest living man alive there. By far, he was the most satisfied person you could have ever met. Every time I visited him, where the world pushes you to run longer and harder, he urged me to slow down, “कश्यासाठी पळतोस? जगायला किती लागतं? चतकोर भाकरी?”

I have fortunately witnessed four and a half generations very young and having seen how most families transfer wisdom, wealth, power, ideas and legacy, I have nothing but deep respect and gratitude that I happen to be the eldest grandchild of this man. This gave me the most time with him relative to all his grandkids and a golden standard that explained his success despite having spent most of his life in one of the poorest villages of India.

A few weeks ago, I travelled back home. He was bed-ridden, skinny and his voice had left him and his eyes wouldn’t open. Unable to communicate, I fed him some chocolate. It was a Hersheys that had melted in the travel getting to him. He drank some water and after the meal I held my hand in front of his mouth. He bit it firmly and gently and many many times to make up for my absence, as if acknowledging my presence. That was the last time we met. He passed away within a week.

Village elders told me that when someone passes away as peacefully as he did, they probably know the time has come and they just wait for the good byes. My father, the eldest son, did the last rites in the presence of an entire village. Shaved his head and hid a tear. I snuck away a bone from the ashes of the pyre. Grandpa has now travelled internationally! To lighten the mood, I told all my cousins and uncles that I can’t swim so please be around to get me. Reluctantly, they followed, hiding from the judgement of the villagers, we all celebrated that afternoon. Not all lives are mourned, we celebrated a life well-lived!

On the biting, per perplexity, in Western India, it is common for grandparents to affectionately bite their grandchildren as a playful expression of love. This behavior can be understood through the concept of “cute aggression,” where individuals feel an urge to nibble or squeeze something they find extremely adorable. This reaction is a neurochemical response that helps regulate overwhelming positive emotions, allowing caregivers to maintain their composure while expressing affection. Such affectionate gestures are part of the close familial bonds typical in Indian culture, where grandparents often play significant roles in their grandchildren’s lives.

Back to the elephants, the matriarch leads the herd, guiding them to food and water and managing threats. She controls the social network, balancing group needs by providing essential stability. My grandfather was all of that and a lot more. But since he was a male, he was the patriarch. Some might say the last one of his kind. That was the last patriarch.

As for all the translations, you may find them here.

Marathi translation below

जेव्हा भारतीय पॉप संस्कृतीत “अ‍ॅनिमल” आणि “कबीर सिंग” सारखी चित्रपटांची धारा वाहत आहे, तेव्हा हा शीर्षक धाडसी आहे. कॅन्सल कल्चर प्रचलित आहे. चांगली बातमी म्हणजे मी इतका प्रसिद्ध नाही. वाईट बातमी म्हणजे, मी बहुधा चुकीच्या पद्धतीने उद्धृत होईन, पण आजीबापांनी मला सांगितले “किती जरी केलं तरी काही लोकांना भाजी खारटच लागणार.” (हे नंतर मी अनुवादित करीन.)

पितृसत्तात्मकतेवर चर्चा करण्यापूर्वी, मातृसत्ताक समाजाबद्दल बोलूया. हत्तींमध्ये मातृसत्ताक व्यवस्था आहे. मात्रीक तिच्या गटाचे नेतृत्व करते, त्यांना अन्न आणि पाणी मिळवून देते आणि धोके व्यवस्थापित करते. ती सामाजिक नेटवर्क नियंत्रित करते आणि गटाच्या गरजा संतुलित करते. कुटुंब तिच्या मुली, बहिणी आणि त्यांचे बाळ असते, ज्यात मात्रीक महत्त्वाची स्थिरता प्रदान करते.

वानरांबद्दल विचार केला जात होता की ते विपरीत असतात. पण आता आपल्याला कळले आहे की हे खरे नाही. संशोधक रेबेक्का लुईस यांचा असा विश्वास आहे की पुरुषप्रधानतेचा सार्वत्रिक आढावा असण्याचे कारण असू शकते:

• प्रारंभिक संशोधनातील पक्षपातीपणा
• प्रारंभिक प्राइमेट प्रजातींमध्ये झालेला बदल
• संशोधकांच्या स्वतःच्या दृष्टीकोनाचा प्रभाव

आश्चर्याची बाब म्हणजे, जेव्हा आपले मानव पूर्वज इतर वानरांपासून वेगळे झाले, तेव्हा चिंपांझी आणि बोनोबो (मात्रीक) अजून वेगळ्या प्रजाती बनले नव्हते, म्हणजेच आपल्याला दोन्हीशी समान नातं आहे. हे अनुवंशिक जवळीक प्राइमेट समाजांमध्ये नैतिक पुरुषप्रधानतेच्या सुलभ गृहीतकाशी अधिक आव्हान करतं.

आता आपण 1930 मध्ये, अखंड भारतात जाऊ. माझे पिताजी वयात येत होते. भारत ब्रिटिश साम्राज्याखाली होता. त्यांना सात भाऊ-बहिणी होत्या ज्या प्रौढ होऊन वाढल्या. ते कुटुंबातील मोठे मुलगे होते आणि त्यांच्या सर्व भावंडांची जबाबदारी उचलत होते, बहिणींच्या विवाहांची आणि एकुलते एक भावाचे शिक्षण देखील त्यांनी केले. ते चौथी इयत्तेपर्यंत शाळेत गेले होते पण त्यानंतर त्याने शाळा सोडली आणि भेटलेल्या प्रत्येकाला वेगळ्या गणिती कोडी विचारत होते.

ब्रिटिशांनंतर त्याला आणि त्याच्या भावंडांना थोडे फार जमीन मिळाली. त्यांनी “पाटील” हा शब्द नाकारला, जो महाराष्ट्रातील जमिनदारांचा सामान्य उपनाम होता, जो नंतर सरनेम म्हणून स्वीकारला गेला. इतर सामान्य सरनेम्समध्ये:

• धार (उत्तर भारत)
• रॉय/राय (बंगाल)
• ठाकूर/टागोर (उत्तर भारत)
• मलिक (उत्तर भारत, उर्दू बोलणारे प्रदेश)
• राव (दक्षिण भारत)
• चौधरी/चौधुरी (उत्तर भारत)
• रेड्डी (दक्षिण भारत)
• देसाई (गुजरात)

पाणी शिवाय जमीन फार किंमतीची नसते आणि त्याच्या गावी, जिथे तो, त्याचे भावंड, माझे वडील आणि काकांचे जन्म झाले, अजूनही पाणी नाही. खरेतर, दोन आठवडे पूर्वी, बहुतेक आम्हाला शेजाऱ्याच्या विहिरीत उडी मारण्याबद्दल फटकारले गेले, कारण आम्ही मोटर बंद करून एक-एक करून पाण्यात उडी मारत होतो.

माझे आजोबा शेतकरी आणि व्यापारी होते. ते झेंडू फुलं (जे मेक्सिकोमधून आले आहेत आणि तिथेही सांस्कृतिक महत्त्व आहे), ज्वारी आणि बाजरी लागवड करत होते. भारताला गणराज्य घोषित झाल्यावर त्यांनी माझ्या आजीशी विवाह केला आणि त्यांना चार मुलं झाली, त्यात माझे वडील पहिले.

त्यांच्या बहुतेक जीवनभर, गावात वीज, पिण्याचं पाणी आणि स्वच्छता नव्हती. ते प्रचंड उन्हात कष्ट करत होते. त्यांनी त्याचा भाऊ आणि माझ्या वडिलांना 18 ते 24% व्याजावर कर्ज दिले आणि एक कठीण जीवन व्यतीत केले. ज्यांचे वर्णन न्यूजपेपरमध्ये केल्यास, त्यात शेतकऱ्याच्या आत्महत्या कडे उचललं जातं. आणि जितके मी आठवते, मी त्यांना कधीही तक्रार करताना पाहिलं नाही. हे मला अनेकदा आश्चर्यचकित करतं, जणू मी कुटुंबात दत्तक घेतले असेल.

प्रत्येक कुटुंबाच्या प्रमाणे, त्याच्या कुटुंबात काही असे लोक होते, ज्या फारच स्वार्थी होते. मी त्यांच्यासोबत पाणी भरायला जात असे आणि ते पाणी नंतर काठ्या वर उकडायचं, आणि मी स्नान करताना खूप अपराधी वाटायचं. (हे प्रामुख्याने तुम्ही शाळेतील पोहणं शिकता, जर तुम्ही जास्त उन्हाळे गावी घालवले असतील.) अशा फिरण्यांमध्ये, मी त्यांच्याशी कधी कधी त्यांच्या व्यापारांबद्दल प्रश्न विचारत असे आणि ते मला बोलू देत, कधी त्यांना ऐकलेलं नसल्यासारखं करत, मी विविध विषय बदलत असताना ते शांत राहून, त्यानंतर अचानक काहीतरी असं म्हणायचे, “त्यांच्या डोक्यात पाणी असल्यासारखं ते वागतांत म्हणून आपण तसं वागायचं का?” हे सर्व करताना ते 40 लिटर कडक पाणी वाहत होते!

आमच्या गावात दोन वडाचे झाडे आहेत. एक नगर चौकात आणि दुसरे आमच्या घराजवळ. आमचे घर आधी माती आणि गोवऱ्यांची छप्पर असलेलं घर होतं, जे मी किशोरवयीन होईपर्यंत तसंच होतं. कदाचित काही लोकांना ते घाणेरं वाटू शकतं, पण अशा डिझाइनचे काही फायदे आहेत, जे ग्रामीण भारतात उपयुक्त ठरतात. हे संशोधनाच्या दृष्टिकोनातून विचारलेले काही फायदे:

• भिंतींवर आणि मजल्यांवर लावल्यास ते पाणीरोधक परत होतात.
• एक तापमान नियंत्रण करणारे इन्सुलेटर म्हणून कार्य करतात.
• नैतिक फायबर्स आणि खनिज असतात, जे रचनात्मक अखंडता वाढवतात.

मी त्या गावात गडगडत, बकरीसोबत खेळून, अंडे घालण्याची वाट पाहत, सिता फळ खाऊन किंवा पोहणं शिकत मी अर्धे उन्हाळे घालवले. बर्‍याच लोकांचा असा विचार आहे की मी अजूनही चुकीच्या प्रकारे उडी मारतो, गर्भस्थ स्थिती न घेता आणि उडी घेताना मला हाताच्या घड्याळी जास्त मार बसतात.

वर्षानुवर्षे, माझ्या वडिलांनी, माझ्या आजोबांच्या प्रोत्साहनाने आणि त्यामधील सिव्हिल इंजिनियरच्या प्रवृत्तीने, 3 खोल्या बांधल्या. हे त्या गावातील सर्वात मोठे बांधकाम होते. तीन खोल्या प्रत्येकासाठी, तीन मुलांसाठी, कदाचित आजोबांनी इच्छित होतं, पण कधीही स्पष्टपणे सांगितलं नाही.

मी एकटा प्रवास करत नव्हतो. माझे आजोबा देखील आम्हाला भेटायला आले होते. खरे सांगायचं तर, त्यांचा माझ्यासोबतचा पहिला आठवण आहे, जेव्हा मी पाच किंवा सहा वर्षांचा होतो. ते पूर्ण पांढऱ्या पोशाखात आले, धोती, शर्ट-जसे वरचे कपडे आणि अनेक लपवलेल्या खिशांसह, आणि मी दरवाजा उघडला तेव्हा मी विचारले, “किती दिवसांसाठी आलात?”, त्यावर त्यांनी उत्तर दिलं, “का रे, बाळ?” माझ्या आईला हस्तक्षेप करावा लागला आणि त्याने त्याला सांगितलं की तो लोकांना आवडतो आणि जरा उत्सुक आहे. हे आजही खरं आहे, लोकांना आवडणं आणि अनावश्यक प्रश्न विचारणं. तसेच, त्याच्या आसपास योग्य वयाची व्यक्ती असणे आवश्यक आहे.

त्याला त्याच्या नातवंडांना गोडीत दिल्याची एक विचित्र पद्धत होती. तो बसून पाणी पिऊन, आमच्या उजव्या हातात हलक्या पद्धतीने दात ठेवायचा. जर त्याच्या खांद्यावर कधी ताॅवेल (पंचा) असायचा, तर तो कधी कधी थुंकी पुसण्यासाठी तो तो ताॅवेल वापरायचा. नैसर्गिकपणे, काही लोकांना हे अजिबात आवडायचं नाही. पण मला ते नेहमी मजेशीर वाटायचं. त्याची ही परंपरा त्या प्रदेशात फार सामान्य नाही. किंवा असं मी समजून होतो. असं वाटत नाही की ते सांस्कृतिक असावं. किंवा असं मी समजून होतो. तो जणू त्यानेच ह्याचं अविष्कार केला होता. जसजसा आम्ही मोठे होतो, तसतसे त्याने हे कमी आणि कमी केलं.

त्याने कधीही आपल्या भावंडांपासून, मुलांपासून, पत्नीपासून, जावयांपासून किंवा नातवंडांपासून काही मागितले नाही. जेव्हा मी माझ्या पहिल्या नोकरीनंतर प्रवास केला, तेव्हा मी त्याला एक पेन घेतलं, जे त्याच्या पोशाखासारखं पांढरं दिसत होतं. तो ते गमावला किंवा देऊन टाकलं, त्यामुळे मी त्याला एक लांब काठी घेतली ज्यात एलईडी लाईट्स होत्या, ज्यामुळे तो अंधारात सहज फिरू शकला. (गावात आजही वीज किंवा संपर्कासाठी विश्वसनीय स्त्रोत नाही.) तो तो साधन त्याने जितका काळ चालता येईपर्यंत दाखवून दाखवला.

काही वर्षांपूर्वी, माझ्या लग्नाच्या निमित्ताने दोन श्वेत मित्र आमच्याकडे आले होते आणि मी त्यांना अनुवादक आणि साक्षीदार म्हणून त्यामधून एक अतिशय लोकप्रिय गोष्ट इंटरनेटवर शेअर केली, जी मी कधीही शेअर केली होती.

त्याच्या 95 वर्षांच्या आयुष्यात, त्या गावाने तसं काहीच बदल केलं नाही. लोकसंख्या साधारणत: हजाराच्या आसपास स्थिर राहिली. जेव्हा तो गेल्या सोमवारला निधन पावला, तो तेथे जिवंत असलेला सर्वात वृद्ध व्यक्ती होता. खरे सांगायचं तर, तो सर्वात समाधानी माणूस होता, ज्याला तुम्ही कधीही भेटू शकता. प्रत्येक वेळी जेव्हा मी त्याला भेटायला गेलो, जिथे जग तुम्हाला जास्त वेळ आणि अधिक धावण्यासाठी प्रोत्साहित करतं, त्याने मला हळुवारपणे धीमा होण्याचा सल्ला दिला, “कश्यासाठी पळतोस? जगायला किती लागतं? चतकोर भाकरी?”

दुरदर्शनाने मी चार आणि अर्ध्या पिढ्यांची साक्षीदार केली आहे, आणि जेव्हा मी पाहिलं की बहुतेक कुटुंबे कसा ज्ञान, संपत्ती, सत्ता, कल्पना आणि वारसा हस्तांतरित करतात, तेव्हा मला अजिबात काही किमती न देता, मी या माणसाच्या पहिल्या नातवंडापैकी एक आहे, याबद्दल मी खूप आदर आणि कृतज्ञता व्यक्त करतो. यामुळे मला त्याच्याशी इतर नातवंडांपेक्षा अधिक वेळ घालवता आला आणि त्याच्या यशाचा एक सुवर्ण मानक समजून दिला, जो भारतातील एका अत्यंत गरीब गावात आपले जीवन बहुतेक काढले तरीही त्याने मिळवला.

काही आठवडे पूर्वी, मी घरी परत गेलो. तो पलंगावर पडलेला, रडलेला आणि त्याचा आवाज गेलेला होता आणि त्याची डोळे उघडत नव्हती. संवाद साधता येत नव्हता, त्यामुळे मी त्याला काही चॉकलेट दिलं. ते हर्शीज होतं, जे प्रवासात वितळून त्याच्याकडे पोहोचलं होतं. त्याने काही पाणी प्यायला आणि जेवणानंतर मी माझं हात त्याच्या तोंडाजवळ ठेवलं. त्याने ते घट्ट आणि हळुवारपणे, अनेक वेळा माझ्या अनुपस्थितीची भरपाई म्हणून, जणू माझं अस्तित्व स्वीकारत, चोख घेतलं. ती आपली शेवटची भेट होती. तो एक आठवड्यात निधन पावला.

गावातल्या वृद्धांनी मला सांगितलं की, जेव्हा कोणी इतक्या शांतपणे निधन पावतो, तर ते कदाचित जाणतात की त्याचं वेळ येऊन पोहोचलं आहे आणि ते फक्त निरोप घेण्यासाठी थांबतात. माझे वडील, कुटुंबातील मोठे मुल, सर्व गावाच्या उपस्थितीत त्याच्या तिरडीचे संस्कार केले. त्याने आपलं डोकं मोठं केलं आणि अश्रू दडपले. मी तिरडीच्या राखेतून एक अस्थी चोरून घेतलं. आता आजोबा आंतरराष्ट्रीय प्रवास करत आहेत! मूड हलका करण्यासाठी, मी माझ्या सर्व चुलतभावांना आणि काकांना सांगितलं की मी पोहू शकत नाही, त्यामुळे कृपया माझ्या आसपास रहा. ते अनिच्छेने, गावकऱ्यांच्या न्यायाचा लाज लपवत, ते सर्व एकत्रितपणे त्या दुपारी आनंदाने साजरं केलं. सर्व आयुष्य शोकलेलं नसतं, आम्ही एक चांगलं आयुष्य साजरं केलं!

थोडक्यात, पश्चिम भारतात, आजी-आजींना त्यांच्या नातवंडांना प्रेमाने चोच लावणं एक खेळाच्या प्रेमभावनेचा एक सामान्य प्रकार आहे. ह्या वर्तनाचे “क्यूट अ‍ॅग्रेसन” ह्या संकल्पनेतून समजून घेता येऊ शकते, जिथे व्यक्तींना अत्यंत आकर्षक दिसणाऱ्या गोष्टीला चावण्याची किंवा घट्ट पकडण्याची इच्छा असते. ह्या प्रतिक्रियेने आपल्याला अत्यधिक सकारात्मक भावना नियंत्रित करण्यास मदत केली आहे, ज्यामुळे केअरगिव्हर्संना त्यांच्या संयमाने प्रेम व्यक्त करताना शांत राहण्यास मदत होते. अशा प्रेमभावपूर्ण इशार्या भारतीय संस्कृतीतील कुटुंबातील जवळच्या नात्यांचा भाग असतात, जिथे आजी-आजोबा आपल्या नातवंडांच्या जीवनात महत्त्वाची भूमिका बजावतात.

हत्तींवर परत, मात्रीक गटाचे नेतृत्व करते, त्यांना अन्न आणि पाणी मिळवून देण्यास, तसेच धोके व्यवस्थापित करण्यास मदत करते. ती सामाजिक नेटवर्क नियंत्रित करते आणि गटाच्या गरजा संतुलित करते, तसेच आवश्यक स्थिरता प्रदान करते. माझे आजोबा हे सर्व होते आणि त्याहून अधिक. पण तो पुरुष असल्यामुळे, तो पितृसत्ताक होता. काही लोक म्हणू शकतात की तो आपल्या प्रकारातील शेवटचा होता. तोच तो शेवटचा पितृसत्ताक.

त्यांचा शेवटचा interview इथे पाहायला मिळेल.

For the past 5 years, this was an easy problem to solve. A set of events led me to seek a different passport and a lot of my blood, sweat, time, attention, sacrifices and money was deployed to work towards meeting the residency requirements. I haven’t got there yet but I have done everything in my power to be eligible. It was not easy. But I had a great support system. The occasional suffering had meaning. It had purpose. My close friends rarely started or ended a conversation without a polite question that was part-curiosity-part-encouragement-part-expression-of-absurdity, “How many days left?”

Now the days are done. Short version is that I was kicked out of the country, I made it back and have a back-up lined hopefully. The story is now stale. The hero’s journey is over. The character arc is complete. In my eyes, I can now bore any unfortunate soul with the details with this boring paper work if they find themselves caught in an awkward social situation with me or I can find more boring things to annoy them with in my monologues.

Going back to the envy I have for professionals who find meaning in their careers. Or faith. Or Community. Depending on whichever lens you take, there is a reductionist view I am going to take to explain the nuances. At work, this AI thing is getting everyone worked up on aspects of employability. It is an irrational fear, just like any other. To every hardworking individual, I’d ask, have you been in rooms with people above you? And the people above them? All the way up to the CEO, the board and the bankers who lent them money? The consultants who wrote their decks? One of my hobbies, separately, is to listen to them speak on earnings calls. It is all public information and let me tell you, most of them ain’t got no clue what is going to happen three years from now.

Take pandemic for example. In two weeks, the term “New Normal” was coined by someone at The Firm that was displaced by some other intern, and we went back to ‘RTO’ in a 3-year span. That is just a relatable example but if you listen to what “thought leaders” in your field were saying 3 years ago, you shall get my point. But no one should worry about losing jobs to AI. Have you met people in the several layers middle management? When principles of archaic feudalism meet late-stage capitalism minus the “thought leadership”, you are left with middle managers. Your jobs are safe, thanks to consultants, bankers, managers, leaders and thought leaders. AI can probably solve for cancer someday, but it cannot solve for human nature. We, as descendants of apes, need hierarchy to feel good about ourselves. It only works if you are unaware of it though. Too bad you read this. Same analogies can be drawn of faith and community. Drawing those parallels, is for homework. Basically, let’s call existential dread as x.

Given life is complex we assign meaning, x, some value. Job. Faith. Relationships. More the thought behind attribution, fewer regrets follow. In a late-stage-capitalism, meaning, x, for many lies in their careers. I used to work in consulting and a running rumor there was most current Partners were divorced and most retired Partners were dead as they had no purpose left after work. I say most. Also, I’d like to point out that I am not discriminating against divorcees or dead people. With a 3-person readership, I cannot afford to trigger anyone, especially the ghosts.

Like any entrepreneur, given how difficult that journey is if you want to make it to the Partnership, you have to believe in your own lies to get you through what it takes to go from a priest to a cardinal to a Pope, before people start kissing your ring. It is glamourous. Yes. I wanted it. Yes. It makes for a great LinkedIn profile, to list among your exes. People put you on a pedestal and worship you. It does not matter how many young lives were ruined behind closed doors for you to get there. It is like the narrative from the Nike ad, “Am I a bad person?” which justifies everything is acceptable so long as you win. If that is what you want, you have both my respect and my envy. Respect for getting what you want, envy for knowing what you want.

Žižek, one of the greatest living philosophers of our time described that his friend lost his wife and people found it strange and even suspicious that he was going about his life as if nothing happened. His friend went about his life, gardened, took care of his wife pet’s hamster and all seemed normal. Then one day, the hamster died. The story collapsed and there was no longer a lie to fall back on. Then Žižek goes ahead and asks the audience, “What is your hamster?” It is not at all rhetoric. He actually expects a response to “What is your hamster?”

Naval says that a successful person is a one who gets what they want with an implicit assumption that they want the right things. Anyways, I wanted this passport thing to happen. The journey was long. I enjoyed the ride, even the suffering. It had meaning. Suddenly there is a void. Meaning, x, is reset to NULL. The universe always was inherently meaningless. But as every other human, I have to invent some story for myself. I could borrow from capitalism, religion, philosophy but for whatever reason, DIY as a concept was always attractive to me. So was originality. As was art. We all have very limited time to heavily rely on borrowed templates. The way history has panned out, not all frameworks are reliable or even relevant. What gets you fired up? How do you attribute meaning to your suffering? Work? Faith? Family? Relationships?

For 5 years, my father rarely asked me how I was doing. All he wanted to know was, “How many days left?”

The answer is very few. For all of us.

(Moving away from Medium. Read future posts here.)

This post is about you and our trip together. To all my 94 followers on this platform and a few beloved lurkers that I think about equally, thank you for reading, proofreading, critiquing, disagreeing and encouraging me to write here. It has been a rewarding journey.

Creating, for me, is a compulsion, an obsession, even. It is not a matter of choice. I do it for myself and of course, having a loyal audience such as yourself makes the ride even more fun!

While there are many things I had in mind to talk to you about, I have spent time on 50 weekends treating myself to this hobby. Trust me, the list of unfinished stories is long, here is a glimpse-

And the list of things written in my head but never inked is also significant.

Maybe I shall train an AI and have my alter-ego write these for me someday. Maybe I shall make that one of my next projects, maybe I shall record the ones I already wrote in audio format, but the pandemic-induced demand for long-form content has been replaced by the desire to scroll and swipe ephemeral content. Covid may have a bad time to be an atheist but it was certainly a good one to bloom as a writer.

Maybe it was the algorithm but for the nerds who care about numbers and see that as the only way to validate another being’s existence, my first post, on this platform is where I peaked. Much like life, it was all downhill from there. A wise cousin whom we saw in “What makes an artist?” encouraged me to “Make art for art’s sake.” and those words have stuck. The preference will always be quality over quantity. The ride is meant to be fun, not crowded.

We pondered over some other deep philosophical questions with “Where is home at?”, “How to turn a ceiling fan into a helicopter?” , “How do great products fail at tech hype cycles?”. We met Uber drivers, neighbours and magicians during our adventures.

In a mere speck in time, we debated on the shortcomings of our ape-brain, gamifying the brain upgrades, mind castles and storms, shape of the universe, yog, RUPA banyan, chai and moksha. On romance with electronics, love, hate and lust, Chinese blind dates and my many wives.

Things got sharp, things got dark, and things got nostalgic and poetic. We moved to new countries, got kicked out some. We traveled with friends, met Mr. Buffett, and his mentor, who authored the Intelligent Investor. There were other book summaries that gave us a glimpse of Darwin on investing and a few tips to measure innovation, from the author of how will you measure life.

As you stood by me through my rants, it was the pomegranate-guava juice that was talking or we were on a pursuit to be color (race) blind or I complained about anti-vaxers or of the time I was eating as a student.

As I took you through my love for math, statistics, longevity, philosophy and reading. As I lectured you on personal security and privacy. You, dear reader, accepted me threw my growth, quirks, rants, and typos.

Thank you! This is my 50th post. Probably my last one on this platform. But I will leave these posts on here to come back and smirk at my younger self when I am done feeling embarrassed of my past version. Don’t shy away from doing the same. As for my current version embarrassing my future self, you can find more about that over a call, text, Signal an email, on threads (for short-form written work), YouTube, LinkedIn, Twitter, Substack, or the gram, in that order.

Stay classy! Stay eccentric! Stay raw! Stay young! Onwards! ;)

More from Urban Malgudi here. You may also like some of these popular posts related to investing:

Intelligent Investor — Summary

Investing in high-growth economies using robo-bunnies

Retail investors pre-purchase checklist

My Chinese Blind date

Learnings from Berkshire Letters

Blessed with poor memory

Want some dinosaur fat?

Vegan diamonds? Anyone?

“Your tale, sir, would cure deafness” said no one ever, outside of fiction.

In this article we will see how the smartest folks in technology & business can fall for the promise of hype cycles, what happens when the music is playing, what happens when it stops, and what to do if you ever get caught in such a Tempest. Structure in 5 sections as follows —

Introduction (also see “Narcissism”)

Act I: The first winds of a hype cycle (with all the fizz & champagne)

Act II: The storm (and a worthy problem to solve)

Act III: The shipwreck (and the people behind it)

Conclusion

Introduction —

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”

I work in the field of security and my worldview leading up to this event had a very risk-based approach to it. My paranoia started in consulting where I had my fair share of long hours of particularly nothing and sometimes everything, “pls fix” pings, miles, sushi meals and hotel points. Then with an unpredictable event a realization hit me that I’d rather take real money and equity to build actual products as opposed to fixing decks for my clients. Please don’t get me wrong consulting accelerated my learning by exposing me to some of the smartest peers, thoughtful execs, and early experiences that a tech job would never have come close to offering all those in such a short span. On the flip side, I may not know where the skeletons hide but I have seen a fair share of blood including spot firings, lay-offs of managers and peers, tears at client sites (both of clients and colleagues) and all that goes on in a typical salesy environment. At an early dinner with a friend I remember uttering in a typical monologue “I have a love-hate relationship with consulting but I want to get into product management.”

With a few scars that accompany every consultant and after several hops of good and bad fortune, supported by well wishers (occasionally interjected by visa gods), I landed a role of a security product manager in a respectable tech firm in a bleeding edge product that intersected the Venn-diagram of all the envy-inducing buzzwords of the time — Responsible AI, Edge, IoT, Industrial Metaverse, GPUs, Security and Privacy. I was on cloud 9. I had finally arrived! (Actually, I hadn’t, yet.)

Act I: The first winds of a hype cycle —

“Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.”

The COVID-induced demand pumped up the adrenaline in the tech world and projections of growth were everywhere. Reason almost always takes a backseat in euphoria. Blank checks were being signed for ambitious pet projects. Catered lunches were served. Promotions were handed out like candies. Nothing was hard-earned, everything was smooth flowing so long as you knew how to please key influencers. The chiefs were building empires and handing little fiefdoms to their favorites. To be clear, it happened everywhere in tech. People were dying in the pandemic but a career in tech was asymmetrically kind relative to other industries. More so, if you sat on the top of the food chain. Not being a tech employee was almost a sin in the pandemic. Why else would life be hell?

We all know the hype-cycle right? But the corporate version of a phenomenon similar to mansplaining is a(n ex-)consultant, showing a line that a toddler can doodle while half-asleep, so here we go!

Act II: The storm (and all its wrath in product lifecycles) —

“Now I will believe there are unicorns.”

Who wouldn’t want to explore in good times and exploit in bad ones? We can’t simply blame the tech leaders all the time. With top-class graphics for slideware, an adequately hyped-up brand for this new tech, accompanied by a fancy UI, and preview products that met 2–3 use cases exceptionally well in lab-controlled environments but failed most practical real-world applications, I arrived at the scene at the peak of inflated expectations when management was shipping dev kits for free on one hand and was talking about killing a few lines of product on another.

I don’t know what most of your weekends are about but as a millennial my socializing has come down to either gender reveals or single-digit-year birthday parties. There is a point here I shall get to soon but on one such weekend evening I found myself blindfolded, (which I am fine with except that I was) sticking a virtual pacifier on a virtual baby before me. Evidence below.

These exact same under-slept, well-meaning, good-natured, smart individuals, who are making more of themselves, get up on Mondays and make decisions for giant corporations in the hope that they will change the world for the better, for their next of kin.

Without the blindfold, if you handed a marker and asked any of my hundred incredibly smart team members building the industrial metaverse, “Where do we want to focus this quarter?” or “Where were we focussing on in the last quarter?”, the image below would look very similar to the one above. Except with a lot more shots missing the mark. Unfortunately, there are no pacifiers built for adults, but as we shall soon see a lot of crying followed as the imaginary blindfolds of surplus cash were pulled off.

The Problem Statement: Building an AI model marketplace is a very interesting and difficult problem to solve. Although all tech firms are trying to build the next marketplace for AI models, and some have claimed to have already done so there is no everything store for AI models, YET, where researchers can come and put their intellectual property up for sale; A secured free-market where the IP gets readily consumed across various use cases, industries, geographies and hardware combinations. There are several traditional challenges such as identifying key target industries, top use cases across them, hardware compatibility, getting early adopters, building a flywheel of network effects, and identifying a viable path to monetization to getting your first paying customers. There are also new challenges since AI is a blackbox and copyrights/IP laws do not apply as model parameters are essentially non-static ephemeral entities that invite a lot of litigation for infringements. Also, data residency, data ownership, and sovereignty are debates for very long tables around the globe.

Put simply, you cant really go to one website and shop for an AI model you can download on your phone to count the number of sheep jumping off a fence although there are several dozens claiming that they do it, you will quickly find yourself buying other software and hardware you did not need or ask for. All you want is an AI to count the sheep jumping over the fence so you can sleep in peace!

While ideas are infinite, resources are not. Poor judgement catches up to every organization that indulges in lazy decision making and every person in the orbit suffers. No amount of slideware can substitute for a lack of strategy and planning. If x is the product, in our case it was indeterminate. Security is all about the product, the data within it, and the users it interacts with. It is essentially a function of x. f(x) for the geeky. I was trying to solve for f(x) when x kept changing values depending on who you asked, the day, or the time of day. Of course, I was struggling.

Act III: The shipwreck (and the people behind them) —

“Good wombs have borne bad sons.”

This brings me back to where we began, the paranoia that ghosts every (current and former) consultant. Consulting, put bluntly, is selling services largely in the form of human hours. Every consultant knows that while impact can be fictional up to some layers of middle management, money is very very real in the top rungs. Yual Harari can get all nuanced about this and disagree however, every consultant’s career path is clearly laid out. Earlier in your career, the more billable you are, the more successful you are. As years go on, the more billable hours you can sell, the farther you go. It’s up or out. Raised in this cut-throat environment, I had started raising alarms and even ruffling feathers expressing my concern over the longevity of the product and by extension, our careers. This was before the mass layoffs were announced. Tech had not seen lay-offs for a while, for a decade stocks had gone only up, up and up. The memory of the turn of the millennium was wiped off in champagne and covered under hoodies and goodies. Everyone brushed me off when I expressed concern. The key learning here is the Persian messenger syndrome is very very real. Maybe I shall learn someday.

The future became clear gradually at first, then all at once. The seasoned A-players started leaving. The food and champagne were long gone and hiring budgets started freezing as if all CEOs and CFOs met and agreed unanimously at the last summer potluck for the year after the reopening. Consultants hid the phrase they had invented just a year back. Remember “new normal”?

One of the popular girls grabbed a cavalier said in what I imagine was a valley accent “You know what be really cool?” “LAYING OFF WORKERS!!” they screamed in unison and started throwing pillows in the middle of the potluck. Why not? The CEOs, some of them brown folks like me, stood at the corner and snickered as their mouths watered and dollar signs began popping in their eyes. Consultants proposed another phrase as an expensive bottle of champagne popped, “Year of efficiency? Sound good? Let me text my team this fine Sunday afternoon and you shall have something tomorrow morning before you are done with your infrared sauna!”

Back in the land of minions, middle management, where the most insecure bunch of humanity resides, got a whiff of the rumor and started to agree on the concept of quiet firing, marking targets in close collaboration but continued to disagree on almost everything else. They also preferred their KoolAids in different flavors frequently.

The HR function, except for the poor ones in recruiting, suddenly found themselves rediscovering their sense of worth. Budgets were cut, and mental-health-related monologues by leaders were replaced by gratitude-related ones. Those who couldn’t quit started quiet quitting.

Gen Z dared to do what millennials only thought of and actually pointed out the Boomer hypocrisy. Or in their elegant words, “it all looked sus”. I don’t know how it was in the past millennium, but Gen X probably had quite an identity crisis as Boomer leaders decided not to retire before the casket after surviving the pandemic. Frankly, going by the media, Gen X was never a trending hashtag. No one particularly thinks of them, including themselves.

Satire aside, very competent, smart, hardworking individuals were displaced. Products with great potential were killed.

Conclusion

“What’s past is prologue”

Big tech is probably where people trade their dreams for golden handcuffs. Again, I wear these and I wear these proudly on most days.

But if every rational thought counts and if execs are paid for the quality of their decisions, was it wise to spend so much on hiring during the pandemic? Was it wise then to do the lay-offs to show QoQ growth on EPS? How were voices of reason muffled in the layers of bureaucracy? Does the pendulum have to perpetually swing between fear and greed? What happens when another wave of demand for labor creates another bid war talent?

What we seem to learn from history is that we learn nothing at all. Anyways GenAI is here. Everyone agrees it is not a hype. This time it is different! Bring out the champagne! Where are the recruiters at? All gone? How? Never mind, let’s pull an offsite together in Vegas or Davos and brainstorm this. The consultants can build the decks off our wine-stained napkin drawings.

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Reason NOT buy 1: It has been generally accepted to stay away from regions with social and geo-political unrest. This is why it is accepted in the common wisdom of the hedge funds and Wall Street to exit out of (pseudo)dictatorships. But part ownership in equities around the globe is like musical chairs. Someone has to occupy the seats as soon as they empty. I got the seats cheap and I plan on sitting there for decades. My rationale — As a dictator, who is known to be good at the game, would you let businesses flourish OR not? We can see similar examples eastward but thus far I have been proven wrong in one major bet.

Reason NOT buy 2: Another perfectly valid reason to stay away from Turkey is hyperinflation. The only way to avoid the impact is if you own something that has its cost in the Lira and revenues in the dollars. In those rare cases, hyperinflation is an advantage for the business.

Reason NOT buy 3: And if that is not a good reason enough for you to stop reading, you would probably have to spend ~$200 to start and close a trade and 2% frictional cost will accompany any position, excluding taxes. So entering Turkey has to promise a minimum 5% returns over the index to make the bet worth your while.

Reason NOT buy 4: Indexing the SP500 is a no-brainer that all successful investors recommend but rarely follow. I follow them in the approach and have yet to emulate them on the success bit. However, indexing Sp500 now is likely to give you the least returns since the beginning of times and Turkey is a cheap alternative with younger demographics, relatively cheaper labour, and has an economically strategic geographic location with proximity to Africa, Europe, the Americas, and Asia.

Reason NOT buy 5: A lot of appreciation has already happened and maybe the runway is over for a year-long anomaly that occurred once in a decade.

Despite these reasons, I ventured into Turkey and while I watch the macro with the same intrigue I watch the palm reader that lives in my grandpa’s village, the basis of the below thesis is purely based on the neocortex, unless as Kahneman might put it, my System I is masquerading as System II.

You probably want to see the ladies if you have stuck around this far. Look, I know calling them wives is wrong on several levels, but I hope to be with them during good and bad times longer than a typical American marriage. Long-time readers know that as far as equities go, Asian relationships for me overseas have been a little bumpy although a Chinese blind date has turned out quite well.

The 1st bet — AGESA.IS (or AVISF): If I am Shah Jahan, my Turkish Mumtaj will be Agesa, not to be confused with Geisha (but the pronunciation rhymes) Short for AgeSA Hayat ve Emeklilik Anonim Şirketi. The millennials and Gen Z Turks will likely not have govt. sponsored insurance or pensions so the personal insurance and pension industry is just about to take off in the region. Avid followers of Buffett and Berkshire letters will know the great flywheel effect float generated by premiums. 80% of this company is also owned by two entities with complimenting expertise maintaining a symbiotic relationship and a balance of power and an international know-how from a leader in the insurance space. Only 20% of the company is up for grabs and I own a meaningful slice, a portion this high for an average retail investor won't be possible for a publicly traded company in the Americas.

The 2nd bet — ANHYT.IS (or AUHYF): If I am Krishna, of course, Rukmini is the love of my life, but the Radha everyone will talk about is the tongue tickler by the name Anadolu Hayat Emeklilik Anonim Şirketi. With very similar business dynamics as the first bet, this is Turkey’s first Insurance company owned by the Bank of Turkey (Türkiye İş Bankası). The largest bank owning this is helpful, it creates a monopolistic default choice for borrowers who are forced to buy insurance on their loans. Homeowners would know the pain of buying the insurance, they would also know that they probably forgot the terms the day they stepped in the house. Who wouldn’t want to be at the receiving end of the cheque? My guess is when a lakh Turks buy personal insurance, I should collect a premium of a couple as it stands today between these two holdings.

The 3rd bet — CCOLA.IS (or Coca-Cola Içecek Anonim Şirketi): I am not the only one dedicating long pieces of art to their beloved investments. Here is Buffett singing about his favorite stock. You can’t be around a value investor, without listening to the words “Buffet”, a long-time holder of Coca-Cola (KO), or “Monish”, the guy who first ventured into Turkey. Well, with CCOLA.IS you get the best of both the masterminds at an incredible value. If you want to unpack how Coke works Monish explains the history of Coke and unit economics here and Buffett speaks on why he would never sell the shares of the Coca-Cola company. CCOLA.IS is NOT the same as Coca-Cola Inc. and in my eyes, it makes it better. Without getting into the specifics beyond the cited sources, when a random sample of 500 people of the total combined population in Azerbaijan, Iraq, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Pakistan, Syria, Tajikistan, Turkey, Turkmenistan, Jordan, and Uzbekistan open a bottle of Coke (or non-Coke other drinks bottled at this plant), your’s truly gets the revenue. Diabetes and single-use plastics aside, I sleep well.

The 4th bet— TAV Havalimanlari Holding A.S. (TAVHY): You may have observed A.S., stands for Anonim Şirketi, which is the Turkish for incorporated company. Anyways, for this one, let me start with a question, when you travel, how much thought do you put behind which airline you fly? Too much? Want your favorite miles? Too little? Like the cheapest or the one with the fewest wait times/transfers? Carbon impact towards human extinction? Common things to consider as a prudent consumer about to take off. How often do you find yourself in a position to pick an airport? Traditionally airlines have produced net negative returns for investors despite multiplying safety, comfort, and time savings for all consumers (except when some entitled souls complain about babies crying on board.) Airports are an exception though. Very rarely can a consumer pick the airport. These are monopolies hiding in plain sight. And very few of these are up for sale. One is in Mexico, the other one is this holding company that owns or operates several airports in erstwhile Persia. If you ever make it here, be sure to pay for parking or better still, buy a Coke! That diabetes is not going to appear out of nowhere NOR will the planet pollute itself NOR will the global temperatures rise without you scratching the itch of the wanderlust. Make one of these, your next exotic travel destination!

The 5th bet — RYSAS.IS (or RYSKS) Monish gets all the credit for this one. You can see him teach about this thesis in an actual lecture here. These folks own a 12m sq. ft warehouse area, with 99 of it leased, 10-year inflation indexed leases with tenants like Amazon, Mercedes, Dupont, and Ikea paying in dollars and euros. The father-son duo who runs the company also are great capital allocators who have also captured the largest freight train traffic in Turkey, the largest truck fleet at 2000 and counting, largest forklift inspection business. That is Reysas Tasimacilik ve Lojistik Ticaret A.S. for you!

In conclusion

The crass analogy of five wives needs to be addressed. A few points. One, it probably got you to read this article, not a bad thing. Two, I have over 20% of my net worth tied in Turkey so this is a significant commitment in capital. Third, I intend to be here for the long run whereas most people treat investing as modern-day dating. If you spend more time, get to know the stock, double down on the bad times, and hold on longer during the good times, stocks will look very similar to a long-term relationship. Lastly, indexing is like dating the entire town and committing to no one. Up until a few generations ago, folks would argue polygamy is a much better approach than that one. One might argue, it is just a matter of timescales…

Further reading

Some of you may be the curious types and would like to how these lovely ladies are doing two months since I started building the positions. Here is a glimpse.

Investing can be rewarding if you are willing to put in the work. Who knows, you may even make some money! But most folks are lazy and won’t spend time on basic 4th-grade math. Don’t believe me? What is the value of x? Too easy for you? Solve for y; y is the net worth of the author and this blog has everything you need for that puzzle. On a more practical note, If puzzles like these interest you, I will leave you with a clothing company (MAVI.IS), a fruit packaging company (FRIGO.IS), and an appliance company (ARCLK.IS) in Turkey. Let me know which one you like the most and why. In the meantime, I’ll quickly admire my damsels before I continue this addictive treasure hunt.

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We will get back to him. Let’s talk about you. Maybe you are lucky to have (had) a friend who you can (could) call at 3am, a friend you shared your crushes with, a friend whole stole all your food, or erasers, a friend who you did ganpati dance with, a friend who you always had lunch with, someone, perhaps, who knows all you secrets and knows them better than you, someone you just waved at often and that was that, someone who just called you to get cold coffee, or that chaat, someone who shared your weird interests in collecting stamps, coins or matchbox covers. Maybe someone who you went to just because their house was a mansion, or they had the gameboy, or a computer, or later a computer with a graphics card. You were friend’s with them because they had the coolest bike, website or phone. Maybe the relationship wasn’t all that shallow after all. Maybe you have a friend who welcomed you to a new city, maybe someone you enjoy sharing meals with. A friend to just talk books? Another one just for startups? A group that you gamed with. You were part of the clan. A group you played soccer with. Or badminton. Another one, just to bitch about cat ‘moms’. (Go get a real baby. Maybe castrate a dog next, fake mom!)

Do you have a man of god? Preferably men or women of different gods to keep one particular cult from corrupting you. What about a devil’s own? Do you have a friend detached totally from the rest of your circle? A free shrink of sorts. A pen pal. An email pal. A friend you haven’t seen in 20 years but you still randomly call occasionally? Another one who is a decade or two older or younger? For advice and personal evolution. Maybe you were lucky to stay in touch with your childhood friend to remind you of your highest highs and lowest lows. Maybe you married your friend from college. Perhaps your sibling was your best friend in different phases. Maybe mirrors don’t call your bullshit as well as that friend who can tactfully point how you are fooling yourself when you least expect it. Delicately. To build you up, of course. Maybe your worst enemy is now dead because now they are your bestie. Hopefully not the other way for you. Maybe you became friends with your parents as you grew older and turned out exactly like them (That truth makes people cringe. The denial makes others pity your plight.)

We came out of a covid pandemic but have no cure for the loneliness epidemic… YET. But maybe we reconnected with a few people in covid? Some dead people who spoke to us from dead trees? Anyways, as far a data can tell, all the social media giants are worse than tobacco because loneliness is known to kill a soul faster. Colored pixels may have killed the fabric of the society as we know it. Maybe that or capitalistic consumerism is incentivized as lonely people tend to buy more. No sense of community makes it embarrassing to borrow the ladder form your friendly neighbor. Then everyone buys three wrong-sized ladders or hoses or that drilling machine that is needed once in 3 lifetimes. (A neighbor growing up used to borrow and return much smaller potatoes and that caused a lot of heartache to my grandma. I like to believe that most people are nicer than that.) It is a win for disposable consumerism and capitalism. Your loneliness is good for the economy! That reminds me, do you have a bud to discuss your shopping cart with? Or climate change? Or the economy?

The society puts one relationship at a pedestal depending on the stage of life. That is both a silly expectation in my view and an unfair one to expect any single person to nourish the soul with of all the complex quirky things people can crave for from other humans. We are descendants of apes and have thrived in tribes of 50 to 150. Who is on your tribe? Give them a call. Maybe they too are lonely. Want a reason, wish them happy friendship day/weekend! Take back yourself from pixels, addictive algorithms, the pang of consumerism and the dementor born out of these, adult loneliness.

If you think about it friendship is the closes thing to a selfless choice one can make in a lifetime. Phone a friend this weekend! And every weekend! I will be by my phone. If am not, rest assured, I am thinking about each one of you mentioned on here. Coming back to this guy we began this story with when asked why did he go trough the trouble of all that just to meet the girl, he responded, “The way to my friend’s place is never too long.” I have two mansions now, counting my heart, what is the excuse, drop by anytime! We will make chai, play boardgames and get lost in conversations…

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In the closing act of his seminal book, Pulak mentions this epic that originated in 400 BC, boasting 1.8 million words. This makes it seven times the length of the Iliad and the Odyssey combined.

The wise king, Yudhishthira, goes through a grueling Q&A with Yaksha, a powerful demigod, in a bid to resurrect his brothers. A myriad of armchair philosophy questions later…

Yaksha asks: “What is the greatest wonder in this world?” Go ahead, give it a thought…

Yudhishthira replies: “Everyone sees countless people dying every day, yet they act as if they are going to live forever.”

Pulak’s genius draws this analogy into the investing world and answers the question in the context of investing: “Everyone sees immeasurable wealth being created by people who never sell, yet they think and act as if selling creates wealth.” (He cites the Fortune 100 list of richest people as evidence.)

The book presents concepts through the democracy of dancing bees, the breeding habits of rabbits, deceptions employed by dung beetles and frogs, hierarchies among deer, and Charles Darwin’s theories to explain three simple concepts that led to the spectacular success of the hedge fund he runs with his team:

1. Eliminate significant risks.
2. Invest only in stellar businesses at a fair price.
3. Own them forever.

One cannot summarize a classic, and this book undoubtedly qualifies as such. If you need to borrow this book, just give me a holler, and I’ll happily send my copy your way.

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10 years since a silent father’s hand shivered on the driver’s seat as cars drove by.

10 years since, he met some acquaintances who he may never see.

A decade since he bid his grandpa goodbye…

10 years since, he took his first flight and was surprised that german air-hostesses offered chai.

10 years since, he taught a physics class and explained the beauty of 𝝅.

10 years since, he peeked on the window, left his beloved hometown and wondered why?

A decade since he looked down into the brightly-light Mumbai night-sky.

10 years since, he fought with his sister over who gets the computer.

10 years since, he has never scratched his head over bottled water.

10 years since, he first saw an 8-laned highway.

A decade since he can pack his life in 60kgs that way.

10 years since, he landed on the capitalistic soil.

10 years since, a friend ever picked him in America with that wide a smile.

10 years since, he cooked his first omelet.

Close to a decade since he experienced joy despite an empty wallet.

10 years since, the same friend kicked him out of the house.

Though fortunately just 10 days since she hung up after a fight.

10 years since the room-mate insisted on looping a Honey-Sing song.

A decade since wondering “Which room-mate’s poop landed on the bathroom wall?”

10 years since wondering about the difference of a checking and a savings account.

10 years since he crossed most streets without having to press that silly button.

10 years since a a 12" subway tasted good.

A decade since fungus grew right besides cooked food.

10 years since a few friends were lost.

10 years since Fishback taught marginal cost.

10 years since watching a Indo-pak match with a Pakistani.

A decade since eating his Biryani.

10 years since making a first white friend.

10 years since diving in their plate and offending them.

10 years since hitting the pubs, bars, et.al. to improve the relationship ark.

A decade since playing their wingman asking “Would you like your chocolate white or dark?”

10 years since making a new set of friends.

10 years since riding the capitalistic trends.

About 10 years since seeing the sun set in Arizona.

A decade since this wasn’t just nostalgia.

10 years since leaving the life I loved.

10 years since telling yourself, “You were meant for this, bud.”

10 years since I became this puppet.

A decade since … that.

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Over the weekend, I conducted a poll on Instagram, asking what content people would like to see. Let’s just say I was greeted by an eclectic bunch of responses, but one in particular stood out, leading us to today’s discussion.

For the uninitiated, if you’re unfamiliar with Munger, I highly recommend researching him. A good starting point is his speech, “The Psychology of Human Misjudgement.” According to Munger, gaining a small amount of wisdom each day gives you a substantial advantage in life. His teachings, affectionately dubbed ‘Mungerisms,’ advocate for a multidisciplinary approach to life, which involves reading widely across various topics and allowing these ideas to cross-pollinate. This concept segues into our exploration of recursive Pareto.

What is recursion? For tech-savvy folks, recursion is a fundamental concept, so feel free to skip ahead. For others, have you seen the movie Inception? The premise involves entering a dream within a dream…a real mind-bender! In essence, if we equate Inception to “entering a dream,” then recursion can be represented as a repetition of this function, or f(f(f(Inception))). This can continue indefinitely, up until the point where our human or computer memory capacities reach their limit!

What is pareto? Vilfredo Pareto, informally referred to as the Italian Wilfred, was a pizza-loving, rash horse rider who looked like he could have used some contemporary grooming products. This intellectual powerhouse observed that about 80% of Italy’s land was owned by 20% of the population. This ratio, widely known as the 80–20 rule, has been identified across fields like healthcare, medicine, and workplace productivity.

Here’s an application of the Pareto principle: consider knowing 1000 people. Engage with 100 if you’re American, 10 if you’re an American male. You’ll find that around 80% contribute minimally. It’s the same with 1000 tweets, TV episodes, swipes, weekends, texts, calls, or work hours — approximately 80% of them are nearly inconsequential. Your best move? Discard, avoid, ignore them. But note that 20% of 1000 is still a significant number: 200. Apply the Pareto function again, and you’ll be left with 40, then 8, and finally 2. This narrows down to a handful of meaningful texts, calls, tweets, books, shows, movies, weekends, and moments. Make these meaningful interactions your life’s baseline. In doing so, you may find yourself in the fortunate 20% that owns 80%. In fact, I suspect that many of my blog readers are already at level one of this recursion. Are you ready to level up?

Thank you again for reading. You could have spent this Sunday outsourcing morality to fiction, outsourcing happiness to fictional creatures, sleep to pills, and entertainment to pixels. But instead, you chose to be here, to read, to think, and to question my work. For that, I am grateful. Do let me know what (or who) you’ve decided to eliminate.More from bubbykin here. You may also like some of these popular posts:

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