Meeting Rand’s Fantasy Man

All my life I never believed his existence. To me he was chimera created by an oppressed and frustrated soul.  He was every girl’s fantasy and every guy’s nightmare. I debated his existence and like a good lawyer with my strong arguments, always wrote few obituaries for him. “How on earth someone like him could have existed?” “Just passion can never be enough to lead a life, pragmatism always manages to have the last laugh.”  “He will cease to exist in a crooked world called earth.”  An author who was oppressed and never allowed to express herself against the communist boa constrictors; she lived her dream through her fantasies. Just as a petite princess with not so happy childhood thinks and romances a strong, fearless and loving prince in her dreams, she romanced Roark and over years managed to get millions of girls swoon over fictitious him. Yes, Howard Roark never existed; he existed only in sexual liberation of his author.

But today my walls of distrust crumble sans any resistance as I run into modern Roark. He is very unlike oft described Howard. He is as normal as they come; only a toothy grin mirrors his supreme confidence. He is an architect of his dreams, and he has loads of them. His English may appear halting but monk like calmness on his face speaks its own language. I engage him in a conversation and the true passion reels off in his voice.  When he smiles I can see a hint of wrinkles under his eyes. He has to wear his trade mark slightly ill fitted blue jeans all the time.  Think of it while I and rest of my MBA brethren slog it out for a few thousand extra, he does what he enjoys. Always glued to his laptop, he finds out new developments in the cyber world and interprets them in his own philosophical ways.  He never says but he hardly cares for money, he is too good at his art and people for a change know his worth. They beseech him to stay at their firms, in his own reverential manner he says a “No” to them.

Yes Mr. Roark has a family and it looks a realistic Indian family. Working Dad, housewife mom, doting brother and a younger playful sister sum up the family. He loves them still he is detached to them. To pin him down and to prove that he was a Roark wannabe, I directed a barrage of questions at him and on a minefield of a pitch he played them as flamboyantly as only certain Sehwag could.

Question and Answers follow….

Me: So you left No.1 firm in world, known for their internet wonders. Why?

HR: I left coz I got bored. I think we all romanticize them and think they are a perfect company. They may be no.1 Internet Company today, but tell you they are low on creativity. They are hard nosed businessman and I can’t see myself prospering there.

Me: So?

HR: So, I get out before my heart chucks me out. And I take a good two month’s rest, enjoying nature, reading books, talking to parents and playing gully cricket.

Me: And you are never worried that in prevailing economic scenario, you may not even get a job?

HR: Let me outrage my modesty myself (giggles as a kid) and tell you I know I am good. I will get a job. May be I would earn less but that really doesn’t matter. I don’t have a clue how much tax do I pay even now (I can sense a big question mark on his face).

Me: So? What do you do?

HR: I become a mercenary. Ah you call them freelancer (laughs heartily). They are happy but I am leaving to tread on my own path. I will work for myself.

Me: Whoa. Sounds nice. But aren’t there too many risks?

HR: Nope. It is as risky as any of them or as riskless as any of them. I won’t die even if I flop and man why should we be so serious?

Me: Aha. I can’t claim that. So aren’t you worried about financial security? You are ignoring it with impunity. What about parents they need you?

HR: (Gets a bit philosophical.) As I said I will be happy doing what I will be doing. I may earn less or more than what I am. How does it matter? I have to keep parents happy but not at point of keeping myself unhappy right?

Me: Oh. So you love them unconditionally but are still detached to them?

HR: Yeah. Kind of right.  We wrongly blame parents, societies and environment for our choices. Perhaps we all wanted to make certain choices but we were too afraid to do so and hence we as kid hide behind curtains of societies and parents.  How can one blame others for what is in our hand?

Me: Is it true you don’t want to be adored by people?

HR:  Who says so? We all want to be adored and loved by people. But there is a cost attached to it. The cost of losing myself for their love is a huge one. I can’t afford that. I am a shrewd investor and to me “losing myself doesn’t sound a good investment irrespective of any return”.
Me: What about love Roark?  Knowing the soul which is attracted to your soul? Which knows you and loves you not for what you are, but in spite of what you are?

HR:  I do love someone. I care for her and I know that is mutual. Love and work are not mutually exclusive events. They are kind of embedded into each other. Why would pursuit of excellence stop someone from finding true love is incomprehensible to me?

Me: One final question. Are you modern day HR? HR, who would chart his own path come what may. Rand’s pet whom she fanaticized?

HR: (Gives a somewhat puzzle look, takes a pause and proceeds) I don’t know much about Rand and her Roark.  I think it’s bit over the top. But then stories and films sell only if they are over the top.  I am an average Indian middle class boy. I strived hard to achieve what I have done and I have loved it. I am one of innumerable young men who want to chart out their own career. Only difference being they thing, they dream and I do as a matter of fact. They are equally good, equally talented but may be a bit timid to take the plunge while I have done. It’s all in mind my friend and see there is no point in cribbing about employers and system. We choose them, they don’t.  But let me reiterate I am a confident person doing my own set of things, which make me feel happy, make feel spent at end of a day. My life isn’t as shiny and bright as fountainhead protagonist.

He said and he went away. I am no Toohey, I am no Wynand , yet I am good at observing you Mr. Roark.  Enjoying his own life in obscurity, doing what he wants to, performing as a champion though the world may be hardly aware of it and still detached to worldly affairs.  Yes I do believe Howard Roark does exist  albeit in a bit deglamorized form . Hats off …….

Dear! You are a Suspect ……..

Move over Kalam hamming star of India comes to take your place. Kalam being frisked raised political temperatures in India not long ago and now Mr. SRK being detained at Newark has snowballed into another controversy. How irrational we can be? Why emotion always blinds us and any iota of inconvenient truth is dispelled so comfortably.  Why a full fledged terrorist attack on us brings a spate of short lived anger, few cries of “Enough is enough” and few candle lit nights for neo revolutionaries. Guess our memory is too short and our shell of comfort tad bit too hard to be cracked. We generally find ourselves back to sprightly comfortable life way too quickly.

I could not really understand all this brouhaha over supposed “Temporary Detention” of SRK. What’s wrong in suspecting one and all when your citizens may be at risk? Mr. SRK has gift of gab and we all have witnessed it more than once. He says “USA should understand it can’t stay in isolation and hence it should be warm towards people from other countries and specially the Muslims. I was singled out for being Muslim”. May be the “Muslim” factor is true but then what’s wrong in that. Isn’t it true that a majority of terrorists world around are Muslims? An unfortunate fact but isn’t it true?

It is human psychology to do any thing for survival. It is the animal instinct one may say. A mother goes to any extent to protect her kid and for once we are not differentiating between a Cat, Dog or a Human. So should a country be any different? USA may be employing harsh tactics but these tactics have proved to be effective. They haven’t allowed a single terrorist activity since 9/11. We believe in “Atithi Devo Bhava” and expect the same courtesies to extend to us as well. World is not fair, life is not fair and we too should get a little less fair. Indian way of life of rushing back to normalcy immediately allowing the predator to be on prowl needs to be changed. Candles can wait, big cries of “Enough, enough …..ffffff” can wait, time to look world in new perspective . Let the suspects be treated like suspects sans any excuse of caste,creed or nationality.

Frisk and Frolic

So, is frisking really that bad? How insulting it is really to be frisked? It is to a certain degree, when you are inspected to insure ‘that you are not the one, they are looking for’. We all have got used to getting frisked, aren’t we? Well having been frisked at libraries, multiplexes, theatres, offices, stations and airports, we all have kind of become immune to the pain it incurs on us. May be a certain section of people may feel, it does inflict little contempt on them too, but in favor of broader interests, these feeling are suppressed. An average Indian cooperates with frisking knowing fully well that averting a 26/11 is more important than ‘being looked as a potential terrorist for couple of minutes’.

Indian parliament roared in unison to show its anger at what was a regular frisking exercise. Ah! Well we forgot the subject of this frisking was an ex President.  Being gentleman, Mr.  Kalam fully cooperated with ground staff of Continental Airlines in the routing exercise. He didn’t flinch, our esteemed members of parliament did. These members for a change chose to voice similar opinions; they seldom do unless it is about according special privileges to them. They feel that a protocol was violated and India should not take it lying down. Ah! All men are born equal but then some are more equal than others. Mr. Orwell you still hold true, be it roar in parliament for a frisking or getting scot free after nipping few budding lives.

Quirky Einstein in a PDA

 

People have opinions and they love to express their views over all immaterial subjects under the sun. So why should PDA not give a blip on their Radar? Sure it should. And trust me PDA and ensuing raging debates have been witnessed so many times over last decade or so by poor chap me. Those who get involved don’t think that much, but it seems that few “Deprived” souls keep talking over it all the time.

 

But it has been one enticing topic nevertheless all these years.  “What my neighbor  wants to do with his / her life” is something we Indians have always been glued to,loving every tinge of spice thrown in.

Before I waver and end up deviating from the interesting PDA path (or should I say a potboiler), let me tell you all, I have witnessed psychological explanations, chemical explanations, social and of course the well entrenched biological explanations as well (Surely studies  would have been much more interesting if teachers had any clue about the enlightened discussions their not so bright students used to have over something as petty affair as a PDA ) . The whole ambit of education imparted to these otherwise nimble minds was used by such an innocuous topic.

Well let me explain few of them before coming to something extremely interesting theory propositioned by some dear friend  :-) .

Psychological: People, who feel insecure in love, need a sign of love. Basically they need to ‘Feel Wanted” “Feel Loved”. Thus goes the psychological treatise on ‘Public Display of Affection”.

 

 

Social: It is not wrong or right; it simply shows your social coupe. You mingle with such people who do it as matter of fact. And inadvertently you pick it up as well. All well no hell broken loose. Yours truly happens to be proponent of Social Theory of PDA . WHYIWYG (What You See is What You Get ) and WYDIWYS (What You Do is What You See) .

Chemical: Well this is another interesting theory and if I remember correctly someone put forward theory, when I was  into my early teens. Studying in class 9, we had this big discussion how Sulphur is attracted to Oxygen but ignores any advances made by Nitrogen (if any). Sure blame it on inert Nitrogen and great chemistry between Sulphur and Oxygen. Attribute it to electron configuration or internal wiring, they need to be in each other’s eternal company. Rest is self explanatory.

Biological: Well this is an axiom and I don’t need to dwell more on this.

 

So what’s new? These all are old and much weathered theories, I would be least interested in visiting them again (or listening to them again). Who likes stale ideas?   And before this ignorant fool thought that he is done with PDA and exploring various theories behind it, he was just for a mild shock. Yeah, here came wonderfully (weirdly) well thought explanation from Einstein’s stable.  Laws of physics have been ironed out to ensure they don’t lose out to other subjects in this game of great explanation of trivial issues. “What follows is governed by laws of physics” thus spake SK.

 

Explanation not exactly from horse’s mouth:  In hectic days of an extremely busy life, we hardly get time to express our love to each other. And skillfully the master took example of USA and India.  “Consider Love as Force (Unit: Newton) and time you get to spend with your loved ones as Area (Unit: Sq Meter).  Love is omnipresent and exists everywhere so we take it to be equal all around the world.” Said the master and paused. I nodded.  Master continued “in USA people have less time so lesser Area; Indian people still get to spend more time with loved ones, so Area is greater in Indian Case. Now divide Force by Area and you get Pressure (Unit N/Sq m). This pressure is the urge to get involved in PDA. So in USA see them  involved much more and in India sure the urge is  less. And as times are changing and Indian people get less time to spend, PDAs are bound to increase”.  Thundered self proclaimed guru ji .

Now you may call it weird, you may twist your nose (to show you despise BTW I love twisting nose , it reminds me of good old “Bewitched” ) or simply pity on me and my guruji, but I know one thing for sure Physics would be indebted to great guruji to finally solve the mystery. Greats would doff their hats at ridiculous solution of innocuous exercise. Did I hear you loving physics again?

 

 

Solomon of East

Utkarsh was a wonderful person. They all liked him. They all called him Solomon of East. Why? Well, he had answers to seemingly all difficult problems. He cared for everyone he listened to everyone and at end of day always came up with immaculate judgment. But then how easy it is to solve others’ problems where you aren’t passionately involved where you have nothing at stake. His bosom pals used to taunt him because of that. “Utkarsh! It is very easy to gauge depth and tell ways to get out of rut when you aren’t part of it, wish you can show the same wisdom while still being part of rut. Doling out heavenly gyan comes naturally to you”. Utkarsh used to laugh while shrugging his slender shoulders. Though he yearned for an opportunity where he can treat himself as just another human being and judge a situation rationally, proving himself to be the best judge of tricky situations.

Ah and here it was. The manna from heaven. Utkarsh himself was in deep trouble. He was the victim, he was the convict and yeah he was the judge too. Man who solved so many family problems finally ended to be prey to one of them. Yes, our dear Utkarsh got married. He loved the girl and doted on her as any crazy guy would have done. Life was indeed beautiful, but then love alone can’t conquer all problems. You need pragmatism and loads of wisdom to ensure the love boat sees through all possible storms. But then who was worried? We all knew Utkarsh was a wise man, practicality oozed from him. Hadn’t he been the savior for so many of less wise and more gullible ones. Alas empathy is not as easy as it may sound. Standing in place of other is not as easy as making some one feel that there is some one really standing for him/her. The shroud can’t go for ever. The friction threw off the feigning cover he always draped around himself. How easy it has been to preach and alas as it has always been told practicing has been tad much tougher. Utkarsh had not been able to solve a seemingly trivial issue which mattered most to his life. It is so difficult to dissociate “you” from the truth. Stakes were bigger, impulse was on rise and losses were immense. Solomon had lost it when it all boiled down to himself. You can be a good coach but to face a pressure cooker situation and come off with flying colors is altogether a different thing. Alas chokers are meant to be good teachers, but a big question mark stays on their own performance in middle of heat.

Wise people can’t solve their own problems. They too need their bevy of counselors one who can help them dissociate “I” from the problem itself, ego stays as the biggest deterrent to rational thinking. Solomon stays to rue the truth, a hard hitting fact which is bare , nasty, irritable but to chagrin of many stays the truth.

 

Happy New Year

A hint of joy on the ashen face

A little gleam in those dry eyes

And it played a subtle smile

Pleasant break from innumerable cries

 

What made her happy

What made her day

Always lost in seas

Has she come to quay

 

And as he wondered aloud

What lay beneath her shroud

He was still searching for the clue

As tea came for the brew

 

And he gently asked  her

What brought beautiful cheer

She pursed her lips and “nothing” she said

Nothing is well, still a “Happy New Year”.

 

A perfect movie recipe for western Eyes

Read the instructions well and if you don’t like the taste you have to blame yourself.

A cup full of filth

Handful of dirty slum dwelling kids

A glass of Poverty

A katori full of Child prostitution

Juvenile Beggars and their heartless boss (as per your taste)

Liberal garnishing of crude language

Few kids at a BPO

Shake it well with a hopeless romantic story of kids brought up together

 

Bravo !!! you have perfect recipe ready  for few awards . They would be doled to you pretty soon by India pitying gora sahibs. In pretty old male chauvinistic era moms used to teach their daughters the trick of culinary telling “Beti! Pati ke dil ka rasta uske pet se shuru hota hai”. On similar lines there has been a breed of camera toting directors hankering after Western adoration . Prepare the perfect recipe (a poor dirty India) and Pati(the foreign awards) is up for grab .

 

How far would you go to abuse yourself? Would you accept an award for letting the glass of contempt full to the brim? How exciting it is to give a finishing touch to so called work of art so that it sends smile of smug across western faces?

No I am not up here for some serious west bashing; I am here to bash a certain Boyle. He isn’t the Boyle who gave you law of thermodynamics (Remember: Pressure is inversely proportional to the volume and I wondered did it apply to Cricket as well when expanded Indian chests wilted under hint of pressure). This guy happens to be Dennis Boyle, the great filmmaker, creator of masterwork called “Slumdog Millionaire”.

So as per Dennis Boyle India is land of all evils.  Land adorned by people who are worse off than cattle. Land inflicted with a number of grouses.  You name it and we have it. Ah so much for catering to Gora Sahibs.

Movie is a story of a slum dweller (called a Dog ) whose name is Jamal. Through Jamal audience comes to know India is a stinking third world country. Seems Boyle sat with his team and thought of number of nuisance that cripple India. What it is if not a perfect package of celebration of Poverty, Injustice, molestations and all those scenarios which keep giving Amnesty Internationals tedious jobs and torrid nightmares. India is seemingly a country where a kid willingly jumps into human excreta and jumps with joy as he pulls of the superstar’s autograph. Child beggars are blinded; young girls lose themselves to dirt old men for few dimes, where they kill each other mindlessly.

I failed to appreciate the movie, as per Boyle it was intellectual cinema. It was story of dark horse winning the derby (read KBC). For me it was none. I still feel pity for these so called intellectual directors who cater to western media with the naked impoverished India.

The only good part about gibberish “Slum dog Millionaire “ was the way each question at Quiz show was shown to have a background. Something which connected to poor Jamal’s life. Specially loved this question..

Q: Who features on the $100 note?

Jamal (without batting eyelid): Benjamin Franklin

The background of his being able to answer was nice too. And so was his ignorance of Gandhi  and his presence on a 1000 notes.Alas! seems some filmmakers are living Jamal’s life, they know green tinged dollars lot better than India and her real Indians.

Maximum City Anguished

The world consists of three kinds of people.

  Citizen from a first world country

 Prosperous Citizen from a third world Country

 Poor wretched Citizen from a third world Country.

No, I am neither a socialist nor an international statesman and I am least interested in initiating a class war. But actions mostly betray words and what better than a planned terrorist attack on India’s financial fort to let these skeletons tumbling out of cupboards.

Well what really caught media’s eye as never before? What made hapless common citizens spew abusive venoms on road. What made the middle class carry out its duty in form of lighting few candles?  Mumbai carnage was terrible and all those involved should be given marching orders from the beautiful earth. Whether that would happen we never know.

But please let’s hold our breath. Why this sudden more anger at government’s callousness? What really was different from similar terror attacks in various parts of the country? I think two facts make it different from other terror attacks borne by the country.

1.       The hostage like situation on Indian shores was completely new for us and made for a great platter of spectacular media masala.

2.       Well first time the Indian rich came to know this humble fact “SOS! Even we are vulnerable”.

Mumbai had terrible train blasts in year 2006. News adorned Newspapers and electronic media for a while and then it all petered out. We walked on as if nothing happened. The truth was an opinion maker never had close shave with the agonizing face of death till now.

Times have changed. And though whatever happened at Mumbai was unfortunate and terrible, I am hopeful that it would shake us more than ever before. Those who matter now know how terrible it is to be close to death, how terrible it is to lose someone your very own. Perhaps Nero can’t play now when Rome is burning.

26/11 can never be 9/11. A US citizen is not an Indian one and hence he/she doesn’t need to show his /her magnificent power of endurance. He/She will simply smoke ‘em out. Indians need to learn art of patience. Rich Indians well they can get coverage in Papers/Media , their friends may end up with few candle light protests. They may make few heads roll. Well poor would stay poor, would die anonymous deaths. Hence Taj seize may feature glamorous journalists and today it may sport few barricades to show something has changed. For those going to VT nothing has changed. It is business as usual. It would stay crowded with few lathi wielding disinterested policemen taking care of million footfalls at VT.

 

Death is a loss, life should be respected and every life should be preserved. Else the whole cycle would continue. Hope we know it soon. While it is true that hits more when it whizzes past you and hits your best friend. Perhaps a deafening roar 1000 KMs away would mean less than a noise of few decibels because the latter may affect us more. Time to take a collective responsibility .

Setting Few Old Equations Right

She was on the other side of the line. She must have been one to make him happy most of these days. But she was not the one with her usual beatific smile. She sounded bit agitated and it seemed today all his finance acumen is going to come under scanner. He used to marvel at her intrepidity to simply collar him to do a job and he usually retreated into a trance to do it for her.

“Do it man” she almost screamed on the other side. He wondered “Is it the lady who coos into my ears every night?” He thought of flirting a bit with her and hammed along “She is the only woman to me”, usually she used to blush, ah but not today. He could not see but feel the cheek was not pink today. He gave in to see his beautiful demon giving him few instructions.

“Do you know, today I really need you and you are still kidding as always, man I need your help”. She screamed on the other side. “Oh! Really and what kind of help you want” he felt like retorting but it fizzled out to be a muttering “glad to help” the way the little canine obediently says to the little girl.

“Hey! I am planning to buy a dream home in these parts of country”. She spoke with imminent glee. He chose to keep his mum. I want your genius mind to help me in calculations. You know my cash inflow and outflow, so who is better than you to suggest me on these things. Ah must have been the biggest compliment he would have got over last two years. He felt like a kid blessed with his favorite toy. No one would have made him feel that special. Always gifted with quick mathematical mind, he opened the excel sheet and all he could utter was “2.56 K Canadian dollars for 7 years “. He could hear a sound of big appreciation and line going dead. Before he hits the bed, he finds his mobile beeping “ Boy ! you still stay fast .. Proud of your skills”. “You made my day” boy exclaims before calling it a day.

In pursuit of true modernity

What is modernity? What is really that makes you to be proud owner of that luminous star called “modernity” on your shirt? Who judges your “modernity quotient”? Your conscience? Your peers? MTV? Or your ease and comfort with changing values and changing times?

These questions have been haunting me for quite some time and here I am stroking my bit adamant keys on laptop to pursue “this hot issue”.

I must have been eight or nine and pretty oblivious to the great F word called “feminism”. Those days I loved reading my mom’s magazines, mom lovingly used to deem it as “curiosity of an innocuous mind”. Today I think it was my earliest attempt to learn about feminism. In her reading closet, littered with Vamas and Feminas, one name and her statement struck me somewhere. Name was Germaine Greer. It was long interview with the Australian and her views about modern Indian woman. She has this to say about modern Indian woman (circa 1990) “Indian woman has learned how to wear bra and that is biggest contribution of west to her”. A little child was flummoxed. Sure the duel of modernity in mind and cosmetic modernity adorning a body had already started.

Time has changed, world has changed. From those days of single difficultly available landline we have graduated to an era of 3g phones, but the duel still refuses to die. This Sunday I had another brush with the same topic. The difference being I discussed it with four different women. Just to get their view of the same. It was my source of primary research. I did some secondary research too, but as we all know the data and quotes available in these magazines always raise some suspicion. Their over the top story telling manners and shocking data appear a way to sell themselves like hot cakes.

“Modernity is a way of life, an option to live life the way you want and let others do that too” was perhaps most common definition uttered by many. I agree but if that is the sole criteria then we always have been modern. Hinduism was all for that right? Liberalism and Hinduism used to co exist. So next question, What is liberalism? The new definition doing rounds was liberalism is my independence to do what I want to do, let me make mistakes and no one dare ask any questions. Whoa. Made me think hard, as per secondary research data 82% teenagers (male &female alike) don’t even want their parents to ask questions as answering such petty questions is below their dignity.

So the girls of modern times read articles about “how to snare the hot guy in office” and “how to strip tease him into submission”. Male control is said to be a thing of superiority over peers, well just like we end up cooking stories of our fling with hot girls. I don’t fully believe these magazines, but the fact is such girls are deemed modern. Vying for 2 boys, there are 20 girls in a show called “splits villa”. MTV is cashing on modern women’s modern choices. “We want attention, we want jaws to drop where we go”. “My best part of body is my tongue (eh what does that mean?) And I am good at kissing” thus they reel off their hobbies. I am not sure that as a representative of male fraternity, these statements should make me happy or shudder with fear J.

I thought we would hear more about modernity in views. Modernity to excel at different platforms, modernity to storm many more male bastions. Well we are leaving that to Indra Nooyis and Naina Kidwais .

But then still world is not that a dark place. If you ignore my secondary research and just concentrate on somewhat novice primary research there is lot to cheer about, these girls don’t believe in just puffing rings of smoke as signs of modernity, something which Greer had predicted 20 years back to be next Indian woman’s modernity symbol.

I would just narrate some points here.

These girls believe that every one has right to live in their own manner and they do agree that we all are humans. We all can make mistakes and yes we should owe them. They believed raising questions and answering them to be pretty essential. No one is modern because of cosmetic changes (short dresses, alcohol or smoking) nor should doing these things be counted against them. People can be equally biased irrespective of whether they come from conservative families or pro western families. Their biases can be different; those who can come over these biases and try to understand people hailing from diverse backgrounds are the modern ones.

Hope we have enough modern women to prove Ms Greer wrong and these modern women end up putting new face of progressive developing India, doesn’t matter if they don’t help in selling Rohit Bals and Ritu Beris. Doesn’t matter if they help in selling or not selling Virginia Slims, they shouldn’t deem not so fortunate women “dehatis” and without bias help women kind in developing themselves.