Framing a memorable moment
Imagine a world where nobody talks to each other. Everybody is possessed by the tiny screens of their supersmartphones as there is no need whatsoever to interact. In such a scenario, would silence reach the platinum stage? Just asking. As of now, silence is far from golden because it’s well nigh impossible to find a spot without a squeak. All cities suffer from this accepted cacophony. I am yet to visit a residential area — commercial zones are out of question — that enjoys pin-drop silence. You will hear something or the other, if not near, somewhere far away. Apart from man-made noises, even the natural sounds like the wind blowing or birds chirping can distract you there. I am talking about a place where it’s so quiet that you can hear your wife’s thoughts. Alas, it doesn’t exist. Which might compel you to ask a simple but complicated question: is silence dead?
A lot has been written about the so-called bigger picture but as far as I am concerned, nobody really knows what they are talking about. Google the Dunning-Kruger effect before you read any further. Last week, you didn’t know anything about African history. This week, you know a bit thanks to YouTube suggesting some random videos featuring Akala. By sheer stroke of luck (read: internet algo), you are slightly smarter about something you didn’t know existed a couple of days ago. Does this stage of your progress mean that you know what the bigger picture is? The answer is a disappointing no. If we want to learn something or about something, we’ll have to dedicate a major piece of our life to it. There are no shortcuts here. Turns out one lifespan isn’t enough for becoming an expert or a polyglot. Those who have spent decades in their studies or craft or art often sound like they are unsure about their learnings; their humility doesn’t swell from the fountain of gesture but from a geyser of curiosity. Since they are open to learning more, they choose to keep their learnings vulnerable to scrutiny. On the other hand, a similar dilemma confronts the polyglot who dabbles in several subjects before realizing that nothing is fascinating enough to spent one’s entire life on. Both are devoid of seeing the bigger picture. And therein lies their greatest learning.
My spirit animal might be panda but I genuinely believe that elephants are the reason this planet has hope. As long as these magnificent beings — the phrase ‘Your Majesty’ should be limited to these pachyderms and nobody else — roam our planet, Mother Earth is safe. Their timeless wisdom and unfailing memory continue to serve the jungles well, and by extension, the whole biosphere. It’s no coincidence that they form a matriarchal society and know what they are doing. However, it disturbs me no end when the image of an elephant is co-opted to demonstrate that it’s impossible to understand everything about something while seeing nothing in particular. In simpler words, if you are blindfolded and expected to stand in front of an elephant, your perception of the animal will depend on what you touch. If you feel its tusk, you might describe a cold, smooth walrus-like creature. If you touch its puny tail, you’d end up thinking very lowly of this giant. Similarly, if you touch its trunk, an image of a python might sketch on your nascent mind. And so on and so forth. But if you ask me, the entire concept is flawed. First of all, no elephant would let you touch it like that. They are proud animals and won’t tolerate bullshit from two-legged shitty mammals like us. Secondly, imagine your bad luck if you happened to touch its massive penis.
I’ve lived in over 20 cities so far and each one of them has unique characteristics. In Chandigarh, if a horse collapses in the middle of the road, people actually stop their vehicles and bring out their water bottles to help it spring back to its feet. India’s first planned city is filled with people who haven’t gotten themselves in such a hurry that they stop seeing what is important at a given moment. My highlight of living in Nashik was bargaining with beggars on more than two occasion. Perhaps the fact that I was a student back then played a part in this noble transaction. In Aurangabad, college students from other cities can’t wait to leave the city for better opportunities. In Pune, college students from other cities know already that their children are going to grow in the same city. Mangalore has the finest urban-rural mix but the main distinction factor is its people. They will make you pick up your trash from the street while leaving your helmet untouched on your parked motorbike. Gurgaon is arguably the fastest growing city in India’s history. No other city — ancient or medieval or modern — be it Rajgir or Fatehpur Sikri or Thanjavur or Surat — comes anywhere close to the scale this dust-ridden city managed in less than two decades. Despite its feeble sewage system and feudal infrastructure, it has indeed come a long way. There are many more such clinical aspects that makes a city different from one another, although all of them can be broadly painted with the ‘Indian’ brush, and my best guess is that within the next decade, we’ll be witnessing more and more cities sprouting quietly, keeping their distinguishing factors alive.
If you are one of those who feels more embarrassed for others than for yourself, then you must be that baby who was born with a facepalm. Either you are surrounded by classic morons or you are a classic moron. Shame is a primal force of nature for us. A major cut of our decisions are sliced by our desire to not do anything that would be shameful for us. The validation of our society is necessary but the disapproval of our society can’t be tolerated either. Besides, what are you going to do without people even if every single cell inside you hates the despicable members of this miserable club?
Every once in a while, a conversation happens that is equally funny as well as tragic. On a broader vein, it rushes home the ultimate truth of our species: we constantly dangle between euphoria and pathos. We claim to be in search of higher pursuits (stuff like enlightenment, peace, etc.) but at ground level, we seek instances that reveal as much as they hide. Here is one such specimen tailored for you –
Him: “Where are you?”
Her: “In your heart.”
Him: “It’s really crowded here.”
Her: “As long as it’s not broken, it’s OK.”
This moment was captured on the night of last Saturday. Almost all my dearest folks from Delhi NCR were present and we had a good time. Food was (obviously) cooked by my talented missus and the funniest jokes were delivered by the half-drunk Vivek. In case you’re wondering where Ranga is, you’d be pleased to learn that he clicked this shot. Will frame it up and put it on our wall.
Speaking of walls, penned these two lines in Hindustani recently.
Agar deewarein bol paati toh humse kehti,
– “Chup karo, bohot bol liya tumne!”
If these walls could speak, they’d say only one thing,
– “Please shut up! You’ve said enough.”
My goal in 2020 is to become a man with no regrets. I want to live to the fullest and stop being a coward who hides behind his laptop and doesn’t want to be out there in public and speak fearlessly. In the recent past, I’ve refused invitations to speak at college events. Not anymore. I will be more than open to “inspire our students with your storytelling” — because I am a new person. Alternatively, instead of avoiding confrontations, I want to indulge in lame arguments and win the debate with nuanced points. Enough of sustained silence amid the babel of half-baked axioms. I will be more vocal going forward and might even end up starting a podcast where I am regularly arguing but in a civilized manner. What the hell, I might even suspend my self-imposed silence on Twitter and start responding to tweeps. That would be something. It’s been over a decade of zero interactions on my timeline. Maybe it’s time to persistently work on all these plans over the coming days/weeks.
Before anything else, let’s assert for the billionth time that love is indeed the answer. Without love, our life is like a piece of shit waiting for the rain so as to dissolve in the soil beneath. Yet, a major setback to human mindset emerges from our mind itself: we remain blinded by our love for ourselves. We can’t forgive others for one mistake but constantly forgive ourselves for our countless misdeeds. But to be fair, we carry the cross of who we really are. We make promises to others and fail mostly. Deep inside, we understand that compared to others, we break the promises we make to ourselves the most. So, net-net, it’s alright. That’s a stinker of a loopy feedback to our soul, isn’t it? But then, who can we blame for such a compromised system? At the end of the day, we are tired of ourselves. And by that, I mean we are tired of playing so many varied characters just to ensure that we remain a vector of love and not hate.
Last morning, I woke up to the tragic news of Kobe Byrant’s death. It hit hard not only because I’d watched his viral video featuring his daughter on Sunday night. In it, he was animatedly explaining to her something about the basketball game they were watching. A beautiful grab featuring one of the most successful — professionally as well as commercially — those are two different things; not all successful athletes make it to Forbes’ top-10 list for close to 15 years— sportspersons in modern history sharing an adorable time with his beloved kid. The worst part of the news was she died with him in the helicopter crash. One can only wonder what Mrs. Bryant must be going through right now, after losing her husband as well as her child. Such events reinforces in the world the need to appreciate our loved ones a bit more than usual. Who knows, who is living or leaving anymore? Lastly, seven more individuals died in this mishap and it’s worth noting that they have families too.
