Walking down memory lane...

The month of October comes to peace. And I see leaves lying around the quiet side walks. The rustling sound breathes life everytime someone sets a foot on them. I walk slowly. There is a slight breeze. A little sigh. And I keep walking. The leaves now sway to the instructions of some invisible hand. They twirl. They ponder. And they glide from one end of the street to the other. Some of them are stirred. And without warning, they swirl upwards. And my intent gaze follows them. And there I see them up in the sky. From where they came. And now they go. I measure the enormous mass of light pink up above me. There is a strange glow. I observe. The sun is a beautiful red. And I am unable to figure out where the curve begins and ends. The sky is smiling as if impressed by the colors on its own canvas. My eyes cannot resist looking at the sky. The vastness of the sky only beckons me to walk down the memory lane...

It was a busy day back then. In a different country. In a different city. The railway station was at a certain level above the ground. The trains were crowded. Hundreds of people were stacked inside one compartment. One could hear every breath taken by another. Feel one's own sweat. And make no movement. Hands held on tightly to the handles. In the afternoon, these very handles sway magically just like children out from school. In the mornings, they are as taut as can be. I waited for the exact moment when the train arrived in the station. There was a big gasp. And people thronged to the exit. There was an equal force. Some wanted to get in. Some wanted to get out. I barely managed to get out. My bag was tightly bound to my left shoulder. As soon as I got out of the train, I took a moment to get some fresh air. A few seconds later, I could see fellow classmates who had just emerged from the other exits. And then, I was greeted by a pleasant banter. A few girls from my class amidst some animated discussion. One of my friends waved to a couple of the girls. And they waved back. We all walked up the bridge. And then out of the station. We just crossed the traffic lights. The short walking journey usually lasted ten to fifteen minutes. Today, it was more. My friends who were with me at that point were more at ease while talking with girls. Not me. I just listened. I always felt a certain awkardness while speaking to them. I dont know any reason. They all kept chatting with each other till we reached the college. I was about to enter the maze again I thought...

I cross the street. I see a nice young couple walk by. Hand in hand. I smile. Minutes later, a young lady comes from the opposite direction. She is doing a nice jog. Listening to her ipod. And her lovely dog struts besides her. I take a step aside. I have always been a little scared of dogs. I take a few steps. And then just sit down on the small blue bench next to the bus stop. There are a few people waiting for the bus. I am not. I am just taking a small break. I am not feeling tired. But sitting there seems a welcome notion. A lady is standing near the bus stop. She is holding a lovely baby. It is smiling at me. Then suddenly, it frowns. And now it has started crying...

So, I entered the maze. It was in the afternoon. We had a lab session on the topmost floor of the building. I had taken up the subject simply because I liked it as a kid. I was not that good in this subject. But I always knew I would make my career in that very field. We formed pairs. And we set out to do what we were asked to do. Write some program to print out the days of the week. Aaah. The guy who was my lab partner had a knack of doing things quickly. I just kept on looking as he finished the exercise assigned to us in no time. I could not offer him much support. Little would I know that a few years later, things might be completely the other way around. However, there I was staring at the blank screen in front of me. And then I heard two girls sitting next to us ask for help. My lab partner was ever eager to help out. The fact that two girls were involved here was an even greater incentive. I meanwhile just looked on. He helped them finish their work as well. Not that they needed much. And since there was a great deal of time left for the session to get over, the four of us began a small conversation. My lab partner was chirpy as usual. The two girls in frame were chattering too. I just kept wondering what I was to say. The fact that I knew much more on the topics that were being discussed than all three of them put together did not matter much. I was just mesmerized. She kept talking. For almost thirty minutes, the three of them kept talking. I was quiet. But, then I dont know what happened. All of a sudden I started speaking. Speak I did. And after that my lab partner felt quiet shut. There was only one girl and one boy doing the talking. The conversation went on from Egyptian pyramids to Monica Seles. From books we had read to our respective schools. From the languages we spoke to the food we liked in the canteen. And finally to our future careers. And we spoke. And we spoke. And we spoke. When the bell rang, I did not realize that more than an hour had gone by. My lab partner was perplexed. And he even chided me for trying to hog the limelight by talking too much. Not that I cared. It was one of the most remarkable moments of my life. I had never before that moment spoken to a girl with that kind of spirit and freedom. And I have never since then either...

The lady boarded the bus with the baby. And the bus just went by. I get up slowly. It was getting dark. And I say to myself that I better hurry home. Had to cook for dinner. And all the utensils lay there in the basin as if crying out mortally wounded. I walk up the stairs. I take out the keys from my right pocket. I turn the keys. And open the door. And then I just stand there. I turn around. I look at the sky again. The reddish glow has now given way to a silent darkness. I look forward in the northern direction. The North Star is at its place as usual. And from there it shines upon me. The twinkle of the star. And the radiance emerging from it. It reminds me of that conversation I had many years back. Both the star and the conversation are very far me now. But, I feel their warmth and affection. I smile....

Lost in translation....

Feeling lost. Yes. When something is translated from one form to another. Very rare indeed when this does not happen. And the translator deserves all the kudos. There are a few catches ofcourse. Not only must the translation be true. It must also carry the essence of the original. Can everything be translated? Or in more general terms, can everything be transformed? I dont know. But I see an annoying question mark on the reflection in the window...

I woke up late yesterday. And set out clumsily to work. Nothing out of the ordinary happened on the way. The train was on time. The station was empty as usual. Very few people use the trains after the peak hours early in the morning. I went to the upper tier. And just kept looking out of the windows hoping for some thrill. Something new. Little did I know that I was going to get a full share of it. Just after lunch. I am told that I have to be part of a new project. Something I have never done before. Something that seems challenging from the outset. I had already lost focus in the middle of the discussion. While the person opposite me was giving a brief overview, I had already ventured into another world. Dreamy. I was already visualizing how things would be. And what I was to do. I came out of the room. Went back to my desk. That daze hadnt left me then. In the evening, I spoke to my friend. And both of us agreed that some really rigorous moments lay ahead. Challenging but offering great scope for creativity. Things were so clear in my dreamy world in that room. However, back on the train station, everything was hazy. So, I took the train back home...

There are so many people in the room. Everyone speaks a different language. Everyone has a different attire. Everyone has different sensibilities. Everyone has their own agenda. But all of them have one task at hand. All of them need to coexist. Not one is greater than the other. Not one is better than the other. All are equal. And thats what is amazing. And they need to understand each other perfectly well. Moreover, all of them must act in harmony. Those outside the room must see a unified decision. And unified action. Not only must the action conform to the scruples of each, but also to that of the group in entirety. Since everyone speaks differently, what everyone hears is gibberish. "Noise" is the more apt term in the technological arena. That "noise" becomes "harmony" only when the person can completely decipher. Completely comprehend the exchange. The task that has now caught my interest involves bringing together different things. It involves translation. It involves transformation. The problem at hand is exactly like the situation in the room above. Only the people here are replaced by data. And "noise" can be transformed into "harmony" only by careful selection and mapping. One may speak Greek. The other Sanskrit. And somehow, both need to understand each other not only in the literal way, but also in the "worldly" way....

The desire is to not get lost in translation. The plan is to not stop dreaming. The goal is to establish harmony. Tall tasks. Needing big efforts. Little to lose. Much to gain. An opportunity to demonstrate that transformation is possible. A moment to watch wide angles converge. The beauty of diversity lies in watching its unity. The annoying question mark has now given way to a more optimistic smile in the reflection on the window....

Can love be perfect?

I ask. Can love be perfect? I thought about this the whole of today. And I am yet to understand. You see. The two words namely "love" and "perfect" evoke emotions which are not easy to interpret. Alone the two mean something for everyone. Together, some are yet to find meaning. I am one of them. No doubt. It is accepted that both love and perfection have various shades. Both are unique. And both are rare yet found everywhere. Both are found in varying degrees. And the perception of each and everyone is different to both of them. I ask again. Can love be perfect??

I sat lazily on my couch on a bright Sunday afternoon. The glass on the table was half empty, half full. You might wonder why I say both. And I asked this too. I was not sure what mood I was in. Thats why. The camera was lying around from two days. I uploaded some pictures taken a few days back. Not very fascinating I felt. Everything was lying around in a not so efficient way. The fact that I dont have too many visitors offers me even less an incentive to tidy up. There was the little Snoopy sitting right on top of the table. And looking intently upon me. And then the book besides the coffee table. For a moment I felt I was seeing things. But, I guess Snoopy had already read my mind. I had been reading Tolstoy's Anna Karenina for about three months now. I had already finished three fourths of it inside a week. The last part was taking the rest of the time. I admit. I read most of the book without any intensity. I took upon the book mainly because of the writer's reputation. Just for the record, this happens to be my first Tolstoy novel. For all this time, the story did not capture my attention. But today, suddenly, I was asked this question. And ever since, the rest of the day has gone into thinking about this question. Can love be perfect??

I dont know since when we as a species have been looking for love and perfection. Both are innate human desires. And it can be assumed fairly easily that the first man and woman must have shown some desire for either or both. Anthropologists and historians. I wont bother arguing with you on this if you disagree. I move on. Now. Something I find interesting is this. It is pretty difficult to discern one from the other. Give it a try. Every poet knows this. Every artist knows this. Every laborer knows this. I can easily understand why this question now seems more like the riddle: what came first ...the phoenix or the ashes? The fact that each is deeply connected with the other makes the case absolutely captivating. Can there be love without perfection? Can there be perfection without love? I know not as I write. I have had my fair share of love I think. Family. Friends. Not quite from a lady fair. But I am waiting. Can all the love that I have been blessed with so far be called perfect? Hmmm. Well, there is always that feeling that there could have been more. Could have been better. And could have been more differently expressed. Not that I am complaining. But, I guess its very much in our nature to be never satisfied. Ask the guy who just spent a whole day by the beach with his girl. And he still maintains that he hasnt had enough. Ask the child who just had a big box of chocolates. Yup. Hasnt had enough. I guess the answer is that love cannot be perfect? Well, lets not hurry to any conclusions as of now. Perfection is something we appreciate. Something we admire. Something we look forward to. Something that every human endeavor calls its goal. Can it be achieved? Has it been achieved? Well, this depends on whom you ask this. The most adorable fan of someone will easily claim that her idol has already achieved perfection. Never mind if that idol of hers doesnt agree. The most judicious of critics will easily find the most difficult of flaws in everything there is. Then is it that perfection is only relative? Same again. I do not know as I write....

Being in love is being perfect. The love of a mother for her child. The love of a father for his child. The love of a husband for his wife. The love of one friend for another. The love of a devotee for his or her God. They all are perfect. And yet they are not. As I close upon this piece, I would like to believe that love is perfect. Only because it has its own imperfections. And it gladly accepts them. Something that we find difficult to accept in ourselves. Can love be perfect? Well, nobody's perfect. And thats what makes love so special...

When the grasshoppers are making merry...

Most of us have heard that tale. The ant and the grasshopper. Simple characters. Profound meaning. Isnt it pretty easy to distinguish the ants from the grasshoppers?? I enjoy this nice game almost every other day. And somehow, the more I play this game, the less I believe the ending of that tale. So, let me first take the case of the ant. Small. Hard working. Rarely gets appreciated. The ant is there but no one pays attention. Some do get their due, especially when they bite. Others continue to toil. I guess the ant knows. Working hard is its karma. Being selfless is its dharma. Doesnt complain. Doesnt cry. Doesnt wonder about why the hardship. Next is the grasshopper. Big. Strong. Mostly lazy. Influential ofcourse. Never around but gets all the attention. When the going gets tough, the first one to go to the ant. I guess the grasshopper knows. Hardly working is its karma. Ensuring the ants are selfless is its dharma. Now, going back to the story. The grasshopper had fun when the ant was working hard under the sun. And when the snow fell, the grasshopper had nowhere to run. But the ant was a good one. Had food of which he gave the grasshopper some. Moral of the story you know. Enough poetry. Now in this age and day. The ant works hard in the sun. And the grasshopper has fun. When the snow comes, the grasshopper is still having fun. The ant takes blame for the snow. Accepts that the grasshopper owns the food. And the ant is left without food for itself because it did not pay attention to the deadlines and gather enough food...

So, the question that the ant needs to answer is this. What should the ants do when the grasshoppers are making merry. Lets see. May be the ant can start a revolution. Ask fellow ants to make enough bites so that the grasshopper realizes whos the real smart one. Some might auggest that the ants go hiding when the snow comes. Let the grasshopper look after itself. A third alternative might be for the ant to go be pals with the wasps and the crickets. Perhaps even go on a hunger strike. Peaceful protest. I will tell you what. The ant wont do anything of this sort. He will continue to work hard. Nay harder. Till it becomes glaringly obvious to the grasshopper. How hardworking the ant is. Why the ant is working. And what the grasshopper should itself do. The grasshoppers need to realize the truth on their own. No bite of the ant will produce the desired effect. When the grasshoppers are making merry. Playing the guitar. Painting the tapestry. Enjoying the sun. The question that the grasshoppers need to answer is this. What will you do when the locusts will come to get you?? The ant will go underground and remain safe. And you will be dancing to an awkard tune...

We said it is a bull, they asked us to milk it...

Communication gap. This is perhaps the worst thing that can happen to you at a workplace. Especially when the organization is big. And the problem is that such a misfortune need not involve a party with a lack of understanding. Both sides can be perfectly right with their own perspective. And yet both can fail to convey to the other side their true intentions. It is pretty interesting to analyze how such situations develop. And what is the behavior of the parties involved in it. And what are the outcomes in such situations. How does a communication gap occur? First reason that comes to mind is faulty communication technique. Second, use of non unique symbols. Another reason could be lack of commonality in the channel. Problems with syntax and semantics are obvious. Now there are more interesting issues too. What are they? Pride. Prejudice. Politics. Parochialism. I call it the 4Ps of communication gap. Let me elaborate for the sake of clarity. No pun intended here...

Pride. There is a little bit of it in every person who has some knowledge of something. And there is none of it in that person who has the wisdom of realizing that pride clouds knowledge itself. Yes. Knowledge is knowing. Wisdom is realizing. And pride has no place in a wise person. However. Pride by its mere presence makes a party see things in a completely different light. In fact, the problem is severe when pride does not let a party see things in the right way. You know it is right. But your ego wont let you accept it. And theres the first cause of the great gap. Prejudice. Once you see things in one particular light, then the thing itself is colored that way for you. You fail to see that the light is not the attribute of that object. It is merely reflecting from it. It is your gaze that falls on the object. Science and philosophy cannot converge more beautifully than this. Rigidity in thought and actions are the second cause of the great gap. In fact, it would not be too wrong to say that if pride creates a gap, then prejudice only widens it. Next is politics. Well. It is hard to find one aspect of life that does not suffer from or benefit from this scourge. The politics which allows two sides to accept some of the other side's views and opinions while disagreeing on others is the one which delivers benefits. The politics which creates a vacuum between two sides is the opening to a valley of suffering. In such a game, everyone is right. And yet no one is. Remember the story of the blind men touching the elephant and describing different parts. All were saying different things. All were right within their scope. And yet all were wrong. The politics of vacuum is exactly this. All are blinded by their intolerance and radical values. These values might be driven either by personal agenda or to maintain the status quo. This is the third cause of the great gap. And now the final cause. Parochialism. It is easier to explain this one using the previous example too. Narrowmindedness breeds indifference. You dont care about others. And all you care is about you, yourself and your thoughts and beliefs. You will always hold the opinion that the hill outside the town is bigger than the sun. If something that is said goes against your beliefs, then you will ignore it as pure fiction. And no fact will reverse your understanding. This is the fourth cause of the great gap.

Outcomes of such situations?? Two words. Dead end. Thats it. So, now going back to the title of the blog today. There was a very interesting episode at my workplace. I will neither judge the intelligence nor the personality of the parties involved. Suffice to say. We said it is a bull, they asked us to milk it...

Highly Suffocating Caravan...

Yes. Some reflections. Those days. When I was in a Highly Suffocating Caravan. Spent two years in that caravan. All sorts of personalities around me. Many smart. Too many over smart. Quite a few treacherous. A small number mysterious. Some anxious. Lots of them idiosyncratic. A lot of them hypocritical. Almost all forgettable. One of them unforgettable. Amidst this motley group, I was trying to find myself. I was completely lost. Why? Weight of pressure. Baggage of emotions from the previous year. Lack of focus. Wrong priorities. Forgetting the art of winning. And most importantly, the loss of confidence. Those two years without question have provided me with more traumatic memories than all the others put together. And frankly, I am yet to get over some of them. Some of the wounds inflicted were deep. And some of them have only started healing now...

What was so wrong about those two years? I was practically in some exile. My closest friends know the mess I was in. A quagmire that was so hidden to me then yet so evident now as I look back. Wrong company. Wrong approach. But it was the most wonderful learning curve. Many lessons that I have learnt are from those melancholy days. And I can say that I have grown from those experiences. Those two years perhaps were the dose I needed for the rest of my life. In fact, it wouldnt be wrong to attribute the attitude of today to the pain of those days. Yes. Those days were painful. I felt let down by some whom I considered close to me. Yes. I felt betrayed by some whom I considered close to me. And my innocent spirit was burnt down to the ground. And out of these ashes rose the phoenix. One well versed in the mistakes of the past. And one who knew that life was a game. And competition was the rule of the game. And the phoenix was prepared to get burnt again. And would not fear the ashes. And see it only as another opportunity to rise again. Have I gotten over those days? I think I have. More so because I know now what exactly I did wrong. Have I gotten over those people? I think I have. Almost all of them. They are where they are. I am here. Do I want to see them? The answer is a resounding no. However, I have to admit that those years did give me one enchanting musical note amidst all the noise. Alyosha once told me that I should not forget that song. As I look forward, I want to remember those two years for two things only. The painful lessons I learnt. And the magical moments of the song....

The caravan was over long time back. But memories remain. It was a highly suffocating caravan. Yes indeed. But I realized that a caravan always rolls on. The wise know when to join the caravan. And the wise know when to leave the caravan. What matters here is what you leave behind for the caravan. And what you learn from the caravan...