A musical chair of bad ideas
In the late ’60s, Andy Warhol predicted that we’d soon be living in an era where everybody will have their 15 minutes of fame. 50 years later, he is partly correct and mostly wrong. Correct because we are indeed part of a world that allows everyone — from Nigeria to Iceland, from Laos to Guatemala, from Tasmania to Nuuk— an opportunity to put themselves out there. Wrong because it’s hard to say whether this exposure actually leads to a certain amount — in terms of time or impact — of fame. If anything, such trends reflect on us a few of the bare truths of our generation. One of the greatest disclosures being fame is more democratic today than ever before. One doesn’t have to dedicate themselves to football (the way Messi did) or tennis (the way Nadal did) to become famous anymore. Anybody can be famous, bringing the prime value of fame in itself. Not very long ago, the commoners wondered about the lives of the famous. Not anymore. Sadly, the only tangible benefit of being famous nowadays is you get to meet other famous folks.
Why is nerd still a word meant to hurt? Unless you are blind and can’t see how much has changed since the stale-smelling days of public libraries and the sweet-smelling days of book stores, you must know that the 21st century is practically designed by the so-called nerds. From the smartphone in your hand to the democracy that is out of your hands, almost every second thing is influenced by the techies. The reason why you can shop without going to a shop and stream without having to buy a ticket — and activate myriads of similar activities that bamboozles your parents as well as your grandparents equally — leeches on the development of e-ecosystems across the globe. Every self-respecting acknowledges the significance of the internet, even if they don’t fully note the hoodie-hidden nerds working behind the screens.
If you are beautiful and strong, you’d end up leading a life which is relatively bereft of gloom. By design (let’s call it unnatural selection), our species is drawn to beauty. Our personal definitions might differ but each one of us wants to be within the radius of something beautiful. Deep down, we are conditioned to accept its temporary nature. What’s beautiful today may not be so tomorrow; what’s ugly today may not be so tomorrow. From a very shallow place of seeing the difference, we deserve the beautiful folks as much as the ugly ones. Yet, one doesn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that our society is nicer to those blessed with beauty and harsher to those who aren’t.
It’s 2020 and we’ll be witnessing the thick foam of fake news envelop our psyche in the coming years. There is no visible escape. Mainly for three reasons:
1. People believe what they want to believe.
2. People disbelieve what they want to disbelieve.
3. Truth obviously matters but not to all at the same time.
As a consequence, journalism and its underpaid foot soldiers (journalists) are bound to find themselves stranded on the cusp of redundancy. The only way they can fight this monster technology (not technocrats) has created is by thinking fast and moving faster. They ought to learn for once that the N-word is not News. It’s Narrative. News is a 20th century concept and slowly dying in front of our naked eyes.
Speaking of the distinction between the truth and the lies, always notice that the former is so powerful that it’s singularly potent. Lies have to gang up to bring truth down. Yet, it’s imperative upon us to note where the wind is blowing. Truth doesn’t die but it leads a very lonely life and speaks in a language we don’t speak anymore, not to forget its excruciatingly low volume. Lies keep reincarnating at such a shameless pace that it makes complete sense why our world is built on the beams of lies but survives on the foundation of truth. Think about it. You can’t lie without knowing the truth. If you are lying without knowing the truth, you are basically speaking your truth. And therein lies the tragic distinction between the two.
On a daily basis, I think about a lot of people. I may not be a people’s person as I prefer to keep my circle tiny — and my interactions, tinier — but I do think a lot about people. Those who have died, whom I’ve met in my past life, whom I want to meet at least once, and those I am never going to meet again. All of them are dear to me because they keep me sane. Even though thoughts are wonderful to be with, as they cascade from one abstraction to another, one form of conclusion to another, they can’t fulfill the space reserved for people.
One of the many souls who have inspired me over the years, for their reckless spirit, has to be the Burning Monk from Vietnam. I often think about him for his total control over his last moments. Mere mortals like us want to control others. He controlled himself and that too while sitting in the middle of agonizing fire. Not a twitch here, not a grimace there. As an expression, we say sitting on our asses won’t solve a problem. He sat and rose above a lot of us. In his lotus position, he reminded the world that the body is just a vehicle of expression; the control is hidden in our mind.
Being in the content field where I am expected to churn, it could be tiresome (at times) to push ideas that don’t work. And for better or worse, most of them don’t work anyway. Out of 10, two or three sticks on the grate wall of virality. A majority of the work fade away with memory. Creative fields, involving design, concept and text, are supposed to be like this though: vulnerable and yet volatile. Ideas aren’t always going to land up inside your skull. Most of the time, you’ll miss the train of thought. Not your fault, trust me. The trick is to keep working, keep scribbling, keep failing and keep learning. There is no end in sight to this process until you abandon the field completely. Sometimes, your ideas will make you feel proud of breathing. Sometimes, your ideas will appear like you are a victim of dry masturbation. Regardless of the results, it’s your duty to keep pushing the limits. Let’s say, you think of something exceptionally great. What next? Everything is supposed to slide down afterwards? No, right? Which is why you must stick to the mission. As far as ideas are concerned, they continue to move — seeking somebody like a geisha in a not-so-busy lane. If you don’t show interest, they will go to somebody else.
I haven’t played a game of chess since the beginning of December 2019 and to be very frank, I don’t miss it one bit. Not to suggest that I don’t love chess anymore. On the contrary, without the release of pressure with non-participation, I tend to enjoy it more now, by watching others play while not carrying the burden of having to learn and improve my game. No more taking notes, no more stressing it out, no more feeling low. As a consolation, I might go back to playing chess offline this year. Last year, I hardly played OTB games. Amazing how an online craze ended just like it began: suddenly.
Opinions on social media are the textual representation of premature ejaculation. Never take it seriously, never too soon. Often, immediate reactions emerge from sentiments and not facts. For instance, last week, it felt like World War 3 was about to begin but apart from #WorldWar3 trending on Twitter, not much happened. Oh yes, missiles were exchanged between the USA and Iran with Iraq picking up the bill. A commercial plane was struck down too for no reason other than lousy strategy. All this for what? To practice the oldest tactic of all time: diverting attention from a more urgent issue? Anyway, Soleimani is dead and those who didn’t know who he was in 2019 have a lot of views about his terrorist activities (including the Delhi embassy blast of 2012) in the Middle East. As if these conflicting theories weren’t confusing enough, my dad has started to resemble Soleimani all of a sudden.
Lastly, the press and the well-wishers would like us to believe that India is burning. As far as I can see, she isn’t. At least not the way her detractors want her to. India is facing the realities of our times and learning to accept our mistakes without losing out on her identity. The fire we see today is a promise of a generous future. A future where everybody must be free to speak their minds and feel each other’s pain without having to know each other. A future where common sense dictates our policies and politicians resort to governance, not gimmicks. A future where people’s will resonate without compunction and the brute forces will think twice before raising their cudgels. A future where we relate to the unique position we enjoy thanks to our celebration of diversity, not denial of plurality. Sounds ideal? Well, let’s get used to it.
