Key to the door

“You think you’ve arrived, doncha?” he said. “I hate to break it to you but you’re only in the first room.” He paused. “It’s not nothing—don’t get me wrong—but it’s not that great either. Believe me, there are plenty of people in this town who got to the first room and then didn’t get any further. After a year or so, maybe longer, you’ll discover a secret doorway at the back of the first room that leads to the second room. In time, if you’re lucky, you’ll discover a doorway in the back of the second room that leads to the third. There are seven rooms in total and you’re in the first. Doncha forget it.” 

This was Graydon’s ‘seven rooms’ speech in the book and later film 'How to lose friends and alienate people.'

It does seem that to grow and move towards the next room is most important. Or else we keep going round the same room, rating the same rants, stuck with the same prejudices. And our state of being is not a dynamic equilibrium. We are not moved or surprised by events. We don't lose ourselves and later simmer down to our normal state. Instead, nothing seems to take us out of that room. We have closed down the windows and doors. We remain static. Set in a fixed temperament. 

Whatever we do in that room is less significant than getting out of that room. Growing out of it, rather. Just as individual achievements are secondary to the result - pass or fail. Have you moved to the next class? There you get more exposure. Eventually there will be a time when you can choose subjects which you love to study and ignore those that don't excite you. However, it is important to get there. And to get there, we have to keep moving to the next room. 

Doing your job and just that!

A sense of wonder combines with an expansive spaciousness when some new perspective is introduced to the mind, usually through books. The mind just shifts paradigms or enlarges its views. It is an exhilarating feeling. And it feels empowering, even if the paradigm is one of pathos or of bitter truth. So I have grown fond of reading books. New ways to look at life, new dimensions to explore the world. I would want to see things in entirety through these understandings. I would perhaps want to come to an idea of a big picture and then chalk out my place in it. Which is, as a famous biologist put it, infinitesimally small in the unfeeling immensity of the universe.

But say I manage to gather an idea about all of this stuff, how would that affect me? Perhaps it would help me go about my day to day activities in a different way. What if I apply myself to my day to day activities very well, instead of aspiring to become this or gather that? If I am happy to be a prisoner, content in jail, then the very term loses relevance. I am not in a prison anymore, I might as well be in a Vipassana centre or Shangri la itself. Just as brilliance excites the imagination, humility moves the soul. There is a tension between these two aspects in many facets of our life.

And being present in our workplace, mentally also, posts us in different situations each day. The way we react to them and engage with the people involved throws new insights on how to proceed. It helps us improvise and intervene in issues in a better way.

Perhaps then, doing your job and doing just that, may lead to a deeper appreciation of what is going on all around. And perhaps, studying other issues and books, would help us do our daily job in a better way. Reinventing ourselves as each new book is finished. Polishing our understanding of theoretical things as each experience is lived through. It may be complementary. Enabling us to do our jobs well and do just that.

An extra second of tickling!

There was a good conversation yesterday afternoon. A healthy exchange of information and ideas. And I felt there was also some shared goodwill. How did this particular conversation get that flavour? Before the conversation took place I had been deliberately silent for at least two hours. Something from those hours extended to the conversation. the silence out me in a mindset where I could wait and watch. During dialogues, it gives that extra second to pause and reflect. To really listen. And perhaps ask clarifying questions or collect my thoughts on the topic. Instantly, the process itself is more genuine, the words that come out are meant by the person speaking them. That pause of one second. It also quality checks our statements. Am I saying what I am about to say for self aggrandizement? Is it true? Is it a standard rehearsed reply? That helps. Can't underestimate that extra second.

Every conversation hinges heavily on the way it begins. The first greetings are important. More than wit or smartness, affection/respect helps set the right tone. After the initial greeting and pleasantries, it then boils down to listening and observing. Noting down interesting points helps. And keeping 'to do' lists are also very helpful. To get on with life, 'to do' list is the only management tool necessary. When you look at it that way, life seems to be one long 'to do' list. Of course, the aesthetics of living is for self consumption. It tickles you everyday in myriad ways.

At night, there was a compromise. that gave a way forward. Being true to ourselves, as far as our understanding allows us to be, helps us during tricky times. And relationships are strong when one doesn't bluff the other. So 'I don't bluff you, you don't bluff me' works pretty well, especially in tough situations. It adds a certain grace to the occasion. Activates the humour compartment and lends levity to the surroundings. With all these elements, truth can be addressed and the situation can be handled. So you tackle it and then life tickles you and then it is a tango of tickle-tackle, tickle-tackle.

Sailing in the sea

''You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts'' says Kahlil Gibran.

There isn't any hurry. Or any loss. When you can live with yourself amicably. Some days, you just want to go through once. Others, you wish you had done them differently. Nevertheless, there are certain themes running through the phases of my life. Right now, the themes are about doing my work properly and being a good family man. However there is a strong undercurrent. The mind is trying to acquire a coherent worldview. It often leads to the moral questions of living and working. Do I believe that morality has a place? If so, what are the contours of mine? 

"And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart, you live in your lips" 

The more I think about this, the more I am assured that I need not think so much about it. Things are fine the way they are. However, I do wish to slow down. Not as a lifestyle thing. But in my mind. To slow down and dig deeper. Place myself in placid waters. At the same time to be disciplined and skillful. 

"And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly."

People I've admired in life have been people with skills. And they have been soulful. The respect for their sharp minds was as profound as the endearing yearning for their restrained companionship. The more I train my resilience muscle, the more I increase my mind's capacity to digest things completely, the more I can listen and see.   

"And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand."

For both of these things, I think silence helps. it checks impulse, lets one sink his feet into the day and get a feel of things. 

"And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words. In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rythmic silence."

Of the many ways to get to patience, silence probably is one. Of the many ways to get to peace, patience probably is one. 

How the books spoke

A stocktaking of the books I read in the last three months

Life of Pi - Yann Martel gave that imaginary sweep and depth of research. 

This divided Island - Samanth Subramanian, that meticulous industry and a gradually unfolding narrative. 

The Book Thief - Markus Zusack played with history and suffering. 

The song of the magpie robin - Zafar Futehally narrated his story with gentle, aristocratic sophistication. 

Fallen Leaves - Will Durant laid down wholesome thoughts and disruptive insights. Yeah, there. When Will Durant speaks, it is as if the truth has been there with us and he has given it a tangible voice. There is excellence and there is simplicity. 

Wings of Fire - Abdul Kalam was full of drive and integrity. 

Lajja - Taslima Nasreen called out the duplicicty and petitioned for justice. 

Joy in the Morning - Wodehouse played around, funnily in funny situations, free and English-like. 

I am yet to introduce myself to Malala Yousufzai. Meanwhile discussions have thrown up Milan Kundera, Italo Calvino and Harold Bloom.  

Weekend travel

Spiraling down the NH22 from Shimla to Chandigarh, one tries to think of anything that won't turn the stomach. One must definitely try and ignore the the musky diesel fumes. Any imagination that makes one wonder if the excess oil from the chola bhatura that was devoured for breakfast would be processed by the roundabout travel to become a petrochemical product or paraffin wax must be checked. Nor should one concern himself about the narrowness of lanes suspended on alarming precipices supporting a disproportionate number of vehicles whooshing past at high speed. Hunting for the silver linings, at such scenarios, is but a natural thing to do. Apart from noting down the places we passed through in a notepad -from Shimla to Shoghi to Kandaghat and then on to Solan and Barogh till we reached Pinjore- there were also other fine things to take note of without a dashed notepad. Travelling in hills gives unusual vantages and lightings to appreciate the landscape. A slice of orange sun here, a deep cliff there, hill ranges, fields in valleys. The diversities are sharp and the landforms are closely packed. The forested hills at times appear like sheep clothed in green wool on the northern slopes. The bushy trees uniform and fluffy, covering the hills snugly. The southern slopes are barren, the cold winds and lack of sunlight not allowing vegetation to take root.

Chandigarh, the planned city in the plains was a stark contrast. Le Corbusier's 'open hand' greeted us as we entered the UT.  Neat and spacious, spreading wide and even, it felt like the earth had freed up its muscles and was stroking the pacemen freely in mid-season form. When we are going on about pacemen and being in form, let me also state the reason for our descent to the plains. We were to play a cricket match there in the ground in Sector-16. A day-night match it was and was played enthusiastically. A spectacle of sorts for most of us, making our debut in an international ground.

Later at night, we took a stroll outside our hotel. Right opposite was CAT (central administrative tribunal). We went round the shops, crossed the lanes and kerbs and parking lots. A city that looks near perfect to the tourist, the planned modernisation, breezy traffic. An exemplar of what Indian cities could be. If we go about arranging our cities in our living room, Chandigarh would take the best shelf in hte showcase. Anyway, after the match, we could walk only for a few minutes. W eessentially only went a few paces sniffing around the CAT bulding and a few shops. After the CATwalk and banter, had a sound sleep. Woke up and made our winding way back to Shimla. To the clean and cold air again. There, in the auditorium, watched India beat Pakistan at the Eden Gardens. All that remained was to snuggle up under the sheets with a Wodehouse paperback. Right Ho! 

Some pictures of the match

On learning

Curiosity and questions scan the horizon,
for quiet observations to bring answers


We fail and try again
Fail again and laugh aloud
Lest we take ourselves seriously


A teacher offers his heartfelt lessons
and earns an enthusiastic silence