I was always wary of blatantly self righteous people. Still I am. Especially those with that ‘holier than thou” attitude, who always covers themselves in the pristine purity of white and notice only the darkest of black spots in others. This is about the nauseating feeling one gets, looking at the smirks in the faces of usual chutzpah crowd of prime time TV when they run down others in the most damning of languages .
In a speech , late EMS Namboothiripad , had said that for many decades after Guttenberg invented the first mechanical printing press, the common folks believed whatever Printed as Gospel truth. Even after the times Goebels, the Nazi PRO, still many do. It was a hobby of mine, to read the top story of the day ( most often controversial pot boiler of the day) in 4 different Malayalam Newspapers and note down the differences in perception, tone , tenor and hidden intention/ motive. Soon it was not very difficult to guess what Manorama would have written about a Marxist leader without even reading the content.
Soon I realized that it is important to read between the lines and see thru the stories, if one wants to live in this world by saving one’s mind and life from the propaganda around us . It really amuses me so few people in our world understand this. No wonder it is said that 5 % of the world influences or decides how the other 95 % should think and live.
It is imperative to discount the majority of the words we read and hear, add a lot of salt, in search of the needle of truth in the haystack of news stories. There are very few editors out there with a spine and who don’t have to lick the boots of their paymasters. And then there a few out there with a spine, but allowed their brains to be doctrinated by fundamentalist ideas that they sound like mere polemicists. Then this is not about editors, journalists and T V Anchors with a world view of their own who don’t hesitate to state it in open, so that others are very clear about how subjective they are in their “Objective” views. So one knows where a Chandan Mitra , Swapn Das Gupta and TVR Shenoy stands. So also one does not get surprised @ when N Ram writes in The Hindu about Tibet and China or when Vinod Mehta of Outlook proclaims his pseudo secularism.
This is about many others who allow the common man’s trust to be betrayed at the altar of Publisher’s greed for profit ( At any cost).
During one of those hysterical sham debates in TV, as we sat watching the “Resident Patriot” of “The Truman Show “ spewing venom @ Ms. Arundati Roy and almost sounded like exhorting a lynch mob, I was telling my spouse about the corruption in the media. It happened that on the same day I was reading an article written by B. G. Varghese on Media corruption whom I quote “The complete whitewash of the Press Council’s two member sub- committee report on Paid News, Private Treaties and other dishonourable media practices, devalues India’s democratic coinage. The cover up was done by a larger committee of 12 members which sabotaged the findings of Paranjoy Guha-Thakurta and K Srinivas Reddy who nailed the malfeasance, naming and shaming the parties involved. This provided strong circumstantial evidence, carefully documented, to back the earlier disquiet of the Election.”
Commission and Securities and Exchange Board of India with regard to these corrupt practices. In the result, the PCI, the custodian of freedom of expression turned censor.”
I also read in a media watch website that , 2 years ago, when a workers lift collapsed in a building construction site in Bangalore killing 3 workers, the manner , “one national newspaper did not name the builder in its news report was” very conspicuous. It was also reported that the said builder had give an equity stake to the “investment arm “of the Newspaper. That particular newspaper group is one of the biggest private equity investor in India.
I request you to read the report on the Open Magazine about Barkha Dutt’s conversation with Nira Radia. It is distressing to say the least. Then go on to read the article on Tehelka about the middlemen and lobbyists.
In my view, it is very important for Indian Media and TV Networks, to come clean on Media Corruption, before even they attempt to point fingers @ other sections of the society.
Clean up like Charity should start at home.
Till then, I request very humbly, Please “GO”swamy.
tWiST: Pls see the transcripts posted @ www.outlookindia.com.
“Kaduvaye Pidikunna Kiduva” is a Mallu saying which literally means “monster which eats the tiger”. While our TV journalists shows off their scoops and documents on TV, they hardly realize that the most intelligent sardar on earth, may be aware that the Chettiar @ home or Bengali babu may be listening to these as lullabies before they go to sleep every night.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Mansions in our minds
Coming from someone who is really struggling with an EMI, this might sound like “Sour Grapes”. So be it. Because thoughts like Wealth stagnate, if it is allowed to remain in the same place. ( Infact Currere the root word for Currency means “To Flow”, even though many just build dams around it .). Then Antilla is seems to be an island, where even self righetious angels like Arnab Goswami and Suhel Sheth fear to tread. Not sure , whehter they are eagerly waiiting to know , the list of 211. There have been reports around the world about the “edifice for the ego”, vulgar display of wealth etc. Don’t want to take that beaten path of right and wrong. I am not sure, what right one has to comment, even if the the Owners of that place (@ the end of many dozens of holding compnies!), chose to heat the water in their jacuzzi by burning sacks newly printed Rs. 1000 notes. ( As long as one earns it the right way. Forget about cases like hiding Caller Line Identification etc.) A 2 billion dollar home is one of the way to make / be in the news. Another way is to let the world know that “we wash our own bathrooms” or “ We don’t employ maids” inspite of being billionaires. That is another extreme (Especially in contrast to the scene, when a family of 5 or 6 needs to depend on some 600 odd workforce for daily survival) . It is just relative. Even if the change in direction is some 180 degrees. No wonder Sarojini Naidu commented on Bapu “ it takes a lot of money to keep Gandhi a poor man. “ And I add, it takes a lot of Wealth to keep a Wealthy man really wealthy in World’s eyes.
Then this is not about mansions on Earth. And it will be unjust to castigate just 2 in a billion of janata, who carry the same baggage. Most of us seems to be in a hurry of “Arriving” on the scene and if already arrived “ Announcing it to the World” in our own ways. Maybe for many, our own soul or core being is seen as the hurdle. The reason for the slip between cup and lip. In this pursuit of Becoming, probably the Being is being left behind @ the starting line itself. And the folks who truly arrive with their mansions, probably do it with injured souls and bloated egos. In all probability, they may continue their pursuit for more success and better happiness, the moment their own fellow brothers build a bigger mansion.
Or we can start all over by demolishing the need for them in our own minds. Who knows, true happiness may ensue just ahead of startling line.
Then this is not about mansions on Earth. And it will be unjust to castigate just 2 in a billion of janata, who carry the same baggage. Most of us seems to be in a hurry of “Arriving” on the scene and if already arrived “ Announcing it to the World” in our own ways. Maybe for many, our own soul or core being is seen as the hurdle. The reason for the slip between cup and lip. In this pursuit of Becoming, probably the Being is being left behind @ the starting line itself. And the folks who truly arrive with their mansions, probably do it with injured souls and bloated egos. In all probability, they may continue their pursuit for more success and better happiness, the moment their own fellow brothers build a bigger mansion.
Or we can start all over by demolishing the need for them in our own minds. Who knows, true happiness may ensue just ahead of startling line.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Spirit of the Survivor.
When I was young, one of my favorite authors was Jack London, who wrote in the background of Yukon/ Klondike Gold Rush. The adventurous stories of those “colorful” characters, who survived the most hostile environments and trying circumstances , in Jack London’s unique stand out prose , are still etched in my memory. It is the oldest but most fascinating of all stories.. What can be more interesting and inspirational reading than the diary of Capt. Robert Scot, who perished during an expedition to Antarctica or “Into Thin Air”, the story of Everest Tragedy written by Joe Krakauner.
As someone who stayed in a village quite close to Silent valley, I knew many people personally who would venture into deep forests to collect honey, graze their cattle , or collect other forest produces for a living. There wasn’t any dearth of exaggerated (a bit!) but fascinating accounts of pythons and wild elephants during those days. I used to wonder, what makes human beings seek out the toughest of conditions and most challenging situations and what makes them survive ?
The recent Chile disaster was one story I followed over that of CWG or vote in Karnataka. Most of the reporters and analysts around the world have written reams and reams about their will, commitment and camaraderie etc. No mistaking here. I do have great respect to those 33 who survived. Anyone who had visited a mine, even on a short visit, will have that.
Such make or break situations, almost always, tear away the masks and images people have and expose the real self in each one of us. Many a times read goodness comes out. Once the basic survival need of food and water is taken care, it is the spirit that keeps people alive and kicking. And most often it is the finer mind ( Art, poetry and humor) what keeps the Spirit alive. It was interesting to know the presence of “Residence poet” and Elvis Priesly fan amongst the Chile Miners. (After all Chileans take pride in being the land of poets).
Viktor Frankl, who survived Auswitch and author of the classic “ Man’s Search for Meaning” , writes “To discover that there was any resemblance of art in a concentration camp must be surprise enough for an outsider, but he may even more astonished to hear that once could find a sense of humor there as well. Humor was another of soul’s weapons in the fight for self preservation. It is well known that humor, more than anything else in the human makeup, can afford an aloofness and an ability to rise above any situation, even if only for a few seconds.”
George Faludy who survived a Stalinist labor camp to write “My happy days in hell” states that , “Those who died . . . were always the men who had been most determined to survive, those who had concentrated on nothing but food, sleep and warmth . . . I was reluctant to admit the obvious: that delighting in a good poem or discussing Plato’s Socratic dialogues could somehow arm the spirit to the point that it could prevent the body's collapse.”
May be Mario Sepulveda, the second miner who came out in that capsule carrying a bag stones from the mine as souvenirs, have imbibed that spirit in his DNA.
Let me end this post, with the stories of two great adventurers who immortalized themselves, by their calm and collected manner facing death in similar situations.
Robert Scott could write while waiting for his own death “We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for complaint, but bow to the will of Providence, determined still to do our best to the last [...] Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale.”
But the best story (closest to my heart) is that of Rob Hall. Legendary mountaineer from New Zealand. Rob hall who had summited Everest for some 5 times and well known as “mountain goat”, was helping one of his clients, Hansen ( an amateur who had paid a huge fees for a guided tour to Mt.Everest.), when a sudden storm closes in. Hall and Hansen are forced to spend the night exposed atop the mountain in wind chill bordering on minus 100 degrees. Hall was not able to breathe bottled oxygen, because his regulator was too choked with ice. By morning, Hall was able to fix his oxygen mask. But his frostbitten hands were making it difficult even to hold on to the fixed ropes and climb down. Later in the afternoon, he radioed to Base Camp asking them to connect to his wife in New Zeland over satellite phone, as he lay there looking @ the rope just above him. During this last communication, he reassured her that he was reasonably comfortable and told her, "Sleep well my sweetheart. Please don't worry too much." Shortly thereafter, he died. His body was found much later by members of iMAx expedition. I am sure; they would have felt the presence of the immortal human spirit hovering over there. Even mere death may not be able to extinguish it.
As someone who stayed in a village quite close to Silent valley, I knew many people personally who would venture into deep forests to collect honey, graze their cattle , or collect other forest produces for a living. There wasn’t any dearth of exaggerated (a bit!) but fascinating accounts of pythons and wild elephants during those days. I used to wonder, what makes human beings seek out the toughest of conditions and most challenging situations and what makes them survive ?
The recent Chile disaster was one story I followed over that of CWG or vote in Karnataka. Most of the reporters and analysts around the world have written reams and reams about their will, commitment and camaraderie etc. No mistaking here. I do have great respect to those 33 who survived. Anyone who had visited a mine, even on a short visit, will have that.
Such make or break situations, almost always, tear away the masks and images people have and expose the real self in each one of us. Many a times read goodness comes out. Once the basic survival need of food and water is taken care, it is the spirit that keeps people alive and kicking. And most often it is the finer mind ( Art, poetry and humor) what keeps the Spirit alive. It was interesting to know the presence of “Residence poet” and Elvis Priesly fan amongst the Chile Miners. (After all Chileans take pride in being the land of poets).
Viktor Frankl, who survived Auswitch and author of the classic “ Man’s Search for Meaning” , writes “To discover that there was any resemblance of art in a concentration camp must be surprise enough for an outsider, but he may even more astonished to hear that once could find a sense of humor there as well. Humor was another of soul’s weapons in the fight for self preservation. It is well known that humor, more than anything else in the human makeup, can afford an aloofness and an ability to rise above any situation, even if only for a few seconds.”
George Faludy who survived a Stalinist labor camp to write “My happy days in hell” states that , “Those who died . . . were always the men who had been most determined to survive, those who had concentrated on nothing but food, sleep and warmth . . . I was reluctant to admit the obvious: that delighting in a good poem or discussing Plato’s Socratic dialogues could somehow arm the spirit to the point that it could prevent the body's collapse.”
May be Mario Sepulveda, the second miner who came out in that capsule carrying a bag stones from the mine as souvenirs, have imbibed that spirit in his DNA.
Let me end this post, with the stories of two great adventurers who immortalized themselves, by their calm and collected manner facing death in similar situations.
Robert Scott could write while waiting for his own death “We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for complaint, but bow to the will of Providence, determined still to do our best to the last [...] Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale.”
But the best story (closest to my heart) is that of Rob Hall. Legendary mountaineer from New Zealand. Rob hall who had summited Everest for some 5 times and well known as “mountain goat”, was helping one of his clients, Hansen ( an amateur who had paid a huge fees for a guided tour to Mt.Everest.), when a sudden storm closes in. Hall and Hansen are forced to spend the night exposed atop the mountain in wind chill bordering on minus 100 degrees. Hall was not able to breathe bottled oxygen, because his regulator was too choked with ice. By morning, Hall was able to fix his oxygen mask. But his frostbitten hands were making it difficult even to hold on to the fixed ropes and climb down. Later in the afternoon, he radioed to Base Camp asking them to connect to his wife in New Zeland over satellite phone, as he lay there looking @ the rope just above him. During this last communication, he reassured her that he was reasonably comfortable and told her, "Sleep well my sweetheart. Please don't worry too much." Shortly thereafter, he died. His body was found much later by members of iMAx expedition. I am sure; they would have felt the presence of the immortal human spirit hovering over there. Even mere death may not be able to extinguish it.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Dutching Synergy Tiki Taka way…..
Dutching Synergy Tiki Taka way…..
I started drafting this post in my mind, while watching the Holland – Uruguay world cup match. During the last phase, Dutch star Arjen Robben was substituted and the camaraderie shown by the Holland bench was quite striking, especially if you are aware of their history. Holland as a nation, regardless of its small size and population, always produced a great bunch of soccer players. During the 70s and 90s. I do remember their 90s lineup. Gullit, Rijkard, Vanbasten, Bergkamp, De Boer brothers etc. They had world at their feet, except for a couple of bad elements in their team who always ensured they did not click as a team. During one of the group matches of the current world cup, when Van Persie was substituted , he had a few words of advice to the coach in front of millions of eyes. . A Commentator who lip read Van Persie, had said, he was abusing his own team mate Snyder. And I thought the history was repeating itself. The Dutch way. But for once, the coach was wise. He took the initiative of bringing the conflict out in open and the players spoke to each other. And Dutch ended up in final for a change.
Maybe a coincidence. Next day I had to attend a training program on Synergy conducted by an esteemed colleague of mine as an observer. Quite remarkably he started with a question, what has made Dhoni’s Indian cricket team such a success? The answer was obvious. Synergy.
I thought even the word was quite self explanatory. Synergy = Synchronized Energy. Synchronized literally means Harmonized. As in a laser beam. Laser beam is nothing but coherent light. Of course the coherence is enforced by an external source of energy and process. It is not an intrinsic quality of light.
That night Spain had passed Germany out of the park by the Tiki Taka way. Tiki Taka means the style of football played by FC Barcelona and the current Spain World cup foot ball team. It is a short passing game, where everyone in the team participates and weaves the magic around the rival team. It is quite usual , they conjure a sequence of 25 + passes before putting the ball behind net. It takes sublime skills and innate understanding of others in the team to play the tiki taka way. Incidentally this way of playing was said to be the brainchild of Joan Cryuff, the greatest Dutch footballer. Probably he realized t he Dutch may not adopt his style and he took it to Barcelona. No wonder, 7 players who plays for Barcelona. That too in a starting lineup.
“Facilitrainer “ in the Synergy training session, told us that the crux of having synergy is not to know How to do that.. But having a strong reason for “Why” to do that!
As an old saying goes, “If you have good enough Why, one will do it anyhow”. It is the Common answer to the question “Why” which sublimate individual egos and forges synergy.
In another 30 minutes Final game starts.
Joan Cryuff, the Dutch great has predicted a Spanish win.
I am also pitching for La Roja.
The Dutch can wait till they learn to play the Tiki Taka way.
I started drafting this post in my mind, while watching the Holland – Uruguay world cup match. During the last phase, Dutch star Arjen Robben was substituted and the camaraderie shown by the Holland bench was quite striking, especially if you are aware of their history. Holland as a nation, regardless of its small size and population, always produced a great bunch of soccer players. During the 70s and 90s. I do remember their 90s lineup. Gullit, Rijkard, Vanbasten, Bergkamp, De Boer brothers etc. They had world at their feet, except for a couple of bad elements in their team who always ensured they did not click as a team. During one of the group matches of the current world cup, when Van Persie was substituted , he had a few words of advice to the coach in front of millions of eyes. . A Commentator who lip read Van Persie, had said, he was abusing his own team mate Snyder. And I thought the history was repeating itself. The Dutch way. But for once, the coach was wise. He took the initiative of bringing the conflict out in open and the players spoke to each other. And Dutch ended up in final for a change.
Maybe a coincidence. Next day I had to attend a training program on Synergy conducted by an esteemed colleague of mine as an observer. Quite remarkably he started with a question, what has made Dhoni’s Indian cricket team such a success? The answer was obvious. Synergy.
I thought even the word was quite self explanatory. Synergy = Synchronized Energy. Synchronized literally means Harmonized. As in a laser beam. Laser beam is nothing but coherent light. Of course the coherence is enforced by an external source of energy and process. It is not an intrinsic quality of light.
That night Spain had passed Germany out of the park by the Tiki Taka way. Tiki Taka means the style of football played by FC Barcelona and the current Spain World cup foot ball team. It is a short passing game, where everyone in the team participates and weaves the magic around the rival team. It is quite usual , they conjure a sequence of 25 + passes before putting the ball behind net. It takes sublime skills and innate understanding of others in the team to play the tiki taka way. Incidentally this way of playing was said to be the brainchild of Joan Cryuff, the greatest Dutch footballer. Probably he realized t he Dutch may not adopt his style and he took it to Barcelona. No wonder, 7 players who plays for Barcelona. That too in a starting lineup.
“Facilitrainer “ in the Synergy training session, told us that the crux of having synergy is not to know How to do that.. But having a strong reason for “Why” to do that!
As an old saying goes, “If you have good enough Why, one will do it anyhow”. It is the Common answer to the question “Why” which sublimate individual egos and forges synergy.
In another 30 minutes Final game starts.
Joan Cryuff, the Dutch great has predicted a Spanish win.
I am also pitching for La Roja.
The Dutch can wait till they learn to play the Tiki Taka way.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Cultural Cornerkicks thru Vuvuzela
It is said that one hour on the playing field reveals character of a person, that all the psychometric tests can’t over a long period of time.. The same can be said about Culture of nations as well, since in my view Culture is nothing but collective character. This is an attempt to make sense of present state of affairs of the, through the lens of Football. In my view, I am employing a time tested Scientific method. Guess and then test. I have chosen a few countries from the current World cup 2010 in South Africa. I have observed them since 1982. Here is my take. Brazil, Argentina, Germany and England. I concede that it is indeed an audacious attempt to predict with a sample of 23 against billions. At times you can catch me generalizing a bit too much than usual. Nevertheless here we go.
Argentina is the most mysterious country in the whole world. The most enduring image of Argentina, etched in my memory was Maradona’s magic goal against England in 1986. And then next one, the way Maradona went out crying, when thrown out of 1994 World cup for taking a banned drug. When he had that divine absolute control of a leather ball, he had very little of it when it came to his mind. At the turn of the previous century, they could match USA. They had abundant natural resources and fertile land. They were one o f the Top 10 rich countries of the world. All it took a few decades. To “Mess “it up. While USA went on be a global superpower, Argentina remained as just one of those places. Along with the latino bravado and panache, they also possess a self destructive button. And they swing from one high to another low with gay abandon. They also do possess an innate ability to rebound from abysses of failures. Only Argentina can beat Argentina. And they have to guard against themselves rather than rival forwards. Heart rules the Head just more than it should. As the life of Maradona amply of evidence. From someone who is about to die of overeating comes out of his hospital bed and inspires a young team to play well. And I hope they have forgotten their self destructive button in their a “bit messed up” country. But it does take a “ messed up “ place to create someone like Maradona or Messi.. No training academy or coaching manual can do that.
Now let us turn our attention to their South American rivals. (It is said rest of the world has mere “history”, Brazil and Argentina have their “Football history”!) Brazil. A Brazilian loss in football field is most celebrated in the streets of Buenos Aires. One of the most fascinating countries in the world, home of Paul Coelho, Ayerton Senna , Dr. Socrates, Pele , Zico and carnivals. Known for their flair and finesse, they are trying to change their culture. At least some of them over the resistance of vast majority. Winning is the new mantra over being winsome. Especially after the 1982 loss against Italy. The past wins of Brazil , brought joy and present wins only brings in the money, only for them. We don’t need Felip Melos, but more Socrates . They might do much better as a BRIC nation, if they retain their Shibumi like quality, instead of mindless chase for Winning. Winning without soul is actually a big loss not only for them, but for rest of the world for whom Brazil is the second home nation.
Now from two countries which I really want to visit, to two I do have firsthand knowledge, at least two some extent. I did spend a good % of my small salary in Bundesliga and Premier League tickets.
Germans even in the soccer field is known for their Mercedez Benz like efficiency, work ethics, strong mind and never say die spirit. They put in their 100 % even after the final whistle almost every time they step in to a soccer field. Their conversion rate (Strike rate) is just awesome. There is a sense of assuredness and infallibility about them. No wonder, when the likes of Greece and Spain is biting dust economically , they are still going strong. Compared to the times of Rumenigge, Voeller and Lothar Mathias , the likes of Mueller and Ozil adds that X factor of excitement over mere functionality. One point I have forgotten to mention is their ability to reinvent themselves and move forward with single pointed focus. Like they united a capitalist country with a communist one by breaking just the Berlin wall and not human beings. They have moved away from the time of Aryan Purity. Ethnical diversity of their country is fascinating story of sociology and rewriting history. You may be really surprised to know their playmaker Ozil is a muslim with a Turkish heritage. It was said that Adhol Hitler decreed that four German grandparents were necessary for German Citizenship. But now Germany is home to some 7 million migrants.
''It is interesting to note that of the 11 players not completely of German origin, eight are either strikers or attacking midfielders,'' wrote Ciaran Cronin in Ireland's Sunday Tribune. ''The German tradition of conservative, reliable footballers has been good enough to win three World Cups but the addition of the verve and vibrancy of the country's immigrant folk could make them a different force entirely in the future.'' Watch out BRIC, Germany is here to stay. Not only on playground but beyond it as well.
The last place is reserved for England, quite deservedly in my view. It was written on their team bus. Playing for Pride and glory. They should have added Past glory, vain pride living thru borrowed time. Even some 10 years back, it was evident to my untrained eyes, that here is one country which is eking its living out of their past loot from colonies. When family silver ( Harrods, Jaguar and Rolce Royce) is up for sale, that just reinforces my belief. There was a time when Sun never set on English empire. It seems that was too way back in the past. They have refused to see the current reality of the world and writing on the wall. Leave alone their toilet paper like tabloids, even if you read Guardian on Independent, you know how vain they are. During the last game against Germany, it was analyzed in FT that t Lukas Podolski, Germany's outside-left, had hit a top speed of 31.5km an hour. His teammates Bastian Schweinsteiger, Mesut Özil and Thomas Müller all exceeded 25kph (15.5mph) and the English team stalwart John Terry was stuck at 21km. As FT writely wrote, Football has changed, England has not. The world has changed for the good, and English is still stuck in the past without any future. Or why else they will write about the performance of an English referee in an article about Brazil- Chile. Oh those English !
Argentina is the most mysterious country in the whole world. The most enduring image of Argentina, etched in my memory was Maradona’s magic goal against England in 1986. And then next one, the way Maradona went out crying, when thrown out of 1994 World cup for taking a banned drug. When he had that divine absolute control of a leather ball, he had very little of it when it came to his mind. At the turn of the previous century, they could match USA. They had abundant natural resources and fertile land. They were one o f the Top 10 rich countries of the world. All it took a few decades. To “Mess “it up. While USA went on be a global superpower, Argentina remained as just one of those places. Along with the latino bravado and panache, they also possess a self destructive button. And they swing from one high to another low with gay abandon. They also do possess an innate ability to rebound from abysses of failures. Only Argentina can beat Argentina. And they have to guard against themselves rather than rival forwards. Heart rules the Head just more than it should. As the life of Maradona amply of evidence. From someone who is about to die of overeating comes out of his hospital bed and inspires a young team to play well. And I hope they have forgotten their self destructive button in their a “bit messed up” country. But it does take a “ messed up “ place to create someone like Maradona or Messi.. No training academy or coaching manual can do that.
Now let us turn our attention to their South American rivals. (It is said rest of the world has mere “history”, Brazil and Argentina have their “Football history”!) Brazil. A Brazilian loss in football field is most celebrated in the streets of Buenos Aires. One of the most fascinating countries in the world, home of Paul Coelho, Ayerton Senna , Dr. Socrates, Pele , Zico and carnivals. Known for their flair and finesse, they are trying to change their culture. At least some of them over the resistance of vast majority. Winning is the new mantra over being winsome. Especially after the 1982 loss against Italy. The past wins of Brazil , brought joy and present wins only brings in the money, only for them. We don’t need Felip Melos, but more Socrates . They might do much better as a BRIC nation, if they retain their Shibumi like quality, instead of mindless chase for Winning. Winning without soul is actually a big loss not only for them, but for rest of the world for whom Brazil is the second home nation.
Now from two countries which I really want to visit, to two I do have firsthand knowledge, at least two some extent. I did spend a good % of my small salary in Bundesliga and Premier League tickets.
Germans even in the soccer field is known for their Mercedez Benz like efficiency, work ethics, strong mind and never say die spirit. They put in their 100 % even after the final whistle almost every time they step in to a soccer field. Their conversion rate (Strike rate) is just awesome. There is a sense of assuredness and infallibility about them. No wonder, when the likes of Greece and Spain is biting dust economically , they are still going strong. Compared to the times of Rumenigge, Voeller and Lothar Mathias , the likes of Mueller and Ozil adds that X factor of excitement over mere functionality. One point I have forgotten to mention is their ability to reinvent themselves and move forward with single pointed focus. Like they united a capitalist country with a communist one by breaking just the Berlin wall and not human beings. They have moved away from the time of Aryan Purity. Ethnical diversity of their country is fascinating story of sociology and rewriting history. You may be really surprised to know their playmaker Ozil is a muslim with a Turkish heritage. It was said that Adhol Hitler decreed that four German grandparents were necessary for German Citizenship. But now Germany is home to some 7 million migrants.
''It is interesting to note that of the 11 players not completely of German origin, eight are either strikers or attacking midfielders,'' wrote Ciaran Cronin in Ireland's Sunday Tribune. ''The German tradition of conservative, reliable footballers has been good enough to win three World Cups but the addition of the verve and vibrancy of the country's immigrant folk could make them a different force entirely in the future.'' Watch out BRIC, Germany is here to stay. Not only on playground but beyond it as well.
The last place is reserved for England, quite deservedly in my view. It was written on their team bus. Playing for Pride and glory. They should have added Past glory, vain pride living thru borrowed time. Even some 10 years back, it was evident to my untrained eyes, that here is one country which is eking its living out of their past loot from colonies. When family silver ( Harrods, Jaguar and Rolce Royce) is up for sale, that just reinforces my belief. There was a time when Sun never set on English empire. It seems that was too way back in the past. They have refused to see the current reality of the world and writing on the wall. Leave alone their toilet paper like tabloids, even if you read Guardian on Independent, you know how vain they are. During the last game against Germany, it was analyzed in FT that t Lukas Podolski, Germany's outside-left, had hit a top speed of 31.5km an hour. His teammates Bastian Schweinsteiger, Mesut Özil and Thomas Müller all exceeded 25kph (15.5mph) and the English team stalwart John Terry was stuck at 21km. As FT writely wrote, Football has changed, England has not. The world has changed for the good, and English is still stuck in the past without any future. Or why else they will write about the performance of an English referee in an article about Brazil- Chile. Oh those English !
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
2 dis-appointments and a funeral…
2 dis-appointments and a funeral…
No prizes for guessing. It does rhyme with the movie title 4 weddings and a funeral. One of my favorites. Especially the scene @ the funeral when Auden’s famous poem is recited. “Stop all the clocks…”. After my own father’s death 3 years back, I generally tend to avoid funerals. And one of the books that is gathering dust in my bookshelf, I am yet to progress beyond first page is “The Tibetan Book of the Dead.”
Last week, thoughts about death were again in the air of the crematorium. I was among a small crowd attending the funeral of a colleague’s spouse. The unfortunate was not known to me personally. But her affable and sincere husband was. And there was another deadbody, lying listening to Vedic chants in nearby room waiting to be cremated. Probably the priests were preparing the soul to enter thru the gateway of heaven. Many others hovered there desiring to be there in heaven, without really wanting to die. Very oddly the notice on the board @ the crematorium read “Only Dead bodies are allowed inside the Furnace”. The atmosphere was melancholic and it was quite disheartening.
I felt quite overwhelmed and went for a haircut in that saloon near Adarsh Gardens. I wanted to get rid of the feelings and move on. Now a days janata generally does not want to think or read about the other side of life.. Death, disasters and disappointments. May be due to the burgeoning multibillion dollar PMA industry. Fundamentalist Preachers of “Positive mental attitude” religion, spread the need to find a silver line in every dark cloud.
In that saloon, while waiting for my turn, I happened to read a small news item on Bhopal tragedy where it was written, how the late Nani Palkhiwala played a pivotal role in helping Union Carbide to get away with gasing the poor denizens of Bhopal. That really hurt me. Palkhiwala was one of my heroes. I know Jurists may not make the typical hero list . But then It wasn’t typical hero worship. (I don’t even worship God for that matter.) But for one who really wanted to don a lawyer’s gown, the likes of Nani Palkhiwala, V. R. Krishna Iyer and Ram Jethmalani were the part and parcel of every day thoughts. I had heard many interesting stories and legends about them. So it was quite heart wrenching to read how Mr. Palkhiwala retraced his view about the whole thing and was one of the persons who rewrote the fate of survivors of Bhopal, by arguing for moving the cases to India. He won his case and poor people of Bhopal lost it very badly. And the image of Nani Palkhiwala in my heart’s eye died and I did the final cremation then and there itself. Within a week or so, TV Screen was full of images Mr. Jethmalani walking out on Devi’s Advocate, not really comfortable answering questions about his own turn political around. Jethmalani was always known as a different kind of fire brand who fries other ‘s and who lead a life on his own terms. For someone who had the guts to take on the role of defending Mrs. Gandhi’s assasins against great odds, it was more than a fall from grace, by letting himself needled by the likes of Mr. Thapar. . Finally I no longer wanted to be a lawyer.
May be the real death happens when the image in your mind’s eye finally dies. Till then a person is really alive and kicking, even when physically nonexistent.
No prizes for guessing. It does rhyme with the movie title 4 weddings and a funeral. One of my favorites. Especially the scene @ the funeral when Auden’s famous poem is recited. “Stop all the clocks…”. After my own father’s death 3 years back, I generally tend to avoid funerals. And one of the books that is gathering dust in my bookshelf, I am yet to progress beyond first page is “The Tibetan Book of the Dead.”
Last week, thoughts about death were again in the air of the crematorium. I was among a small crowd attending the funeral of a colleague’s spouse. The unfortunate was not known to me personally. But her affable and sincere husband was. And there was another deadbody, lying listening to Vedic chants in nearby room waiting to be cremated. Probably the priests were preparing the soul to enter thru the gateway of heaven. Many others hovered there desiring to be there in heaven, without really wanting to die. Very oddly the notice on the board @ the crematorium read “Only Dead bodies are allowed inside the Furnace”. The atmosphere was melancholic and it was quite disheartening.
I felt quite overwhelmed and went for a haircut in that saloon near Adarsh Gardens. I wanted to get rid of the feelings and move on. Now a days janata generally does not want to think or read about the other side of life.. Death, disasters and disappointments. May be due to the burgeoning multibillion dollar PMA industry. Fundamentalist Preachers of “Positive mental attitude” religion, spread the need to find a silver line in every dark cloud.
In that saloon, while waiting for my turn, I happened to read a small news item on Bhopal tragedy where it was written, how the late Nani Palkhiwala played a pivotal role in helping Union Carbide to get away with gasing the poor denizens of Bhopal. That really hurt me. Palkhiwala was one of my heroes. I know Jurists may not make the typical hero list . But then It wasn’t typical hero worship. (I don’t even worship God for that matter.) But for one who really wanted to don a lawyer’s gown, the likes of Nani Palkhiwala, V. R. Krishna Iyer and Ram Jethmalani were the part and parcel of every day thoughts. I had heard many interesting stories and legends about them. So it was quite heart wrenching to read how Mr. Palkhiwala retraced his view about the whole thing and was one of the persons who rewrote the fate of survivors of Bhopal, by arguing for moving the cases to India. He won his case and poor people of Bhopal lost it very badly. And the image of Nani Palkhiwala in my heart’s eye died and I did the final cremation then and there itself. Within a week or so, TV Screen was full of images Mr. Jethmalani walking out on Devi’s Advocate, not really comfortable answering questions about his own turn political around. Jethmalani was always known as a different kind of fire brand who fries other ‘s and who lead a life on his own terms. For someone who had the guts to take on the role of defending Mrs. Gandhi’s assasins against great odds, it was more than a fall from grace, by letting himself needled by the likes of Mr. Thapar. . Finally I no longer wanted to be a lawyer.
May be the real death happens when the image in your mind’s eye finally dies. Till then a person is really alive and kicking, even when physically nonexistent.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Manu, Prince Aslan and the World of Narnia
Manu, Prince Aslan and the World of Narnia..
Was trying to watch one of those meaningless Chinese martial art movies over the weekend. Switched off when I had realized I was missing Manu’s presence. Manu was in Mysore for his well earned vacation after all the “Hard work “, he had put in @ his Montessori, Karate, Chess and Painting classes. ( He still has enough energy in his reservoir to fight with Rishi, his younger brother and ransack my bookshelf )… Watching together a movie was a routine that started happening quite recently. One Saturday night, as I was putting away a book I was trying to read , I had realized that Manu was still watching TV.
The moment he saw my shadow, he had his ready plea coated with that sweet 1000 W smile. “Papa, this is not Cartoon. Narnias, why don’t you see? It’s good.” My 4.5 year old son is well aware of his parent’s concern over his overindulgence in the world of Power rangers , Spiderman and Ben 10. I could not say no to the best salesman in the world, even though, I do shy away from watching movies based on the good books I have read and liked. (The only exceptions probably were Godfather and Gone with Wind.).
The movie was almost coming to an end. There was this scene when Trees starts moving to help the heroes. And I tried telling my son that rational aspect of the world. It is just a movie and Trees can’t move. He looked at me quite amused at my incredulity and chastised me saying “ Papa, when Lion can speak English, trees can run too.” That was quite water tight logic; I didn’t have much of an answer. For the rest of the movie, I just watched the movie. The punch line was yet to be delivered. The moment the final scene , where the protagonists got transposed back to the London Underground station came, he got up and announced that “Magic is Over and it is time to sleep.”
Even though I am quite aware that we human beings are wired in our brain, to distinguish between a photograph and actual person, a movie and real stuff, I felt it was quite incredible for a young kid to make sense of it quite intuitively.
As Buckminster Fuller had written “All kids are born geniuses, and we elders degeniuse 9999 out of every 10000. “
Then it is not just about Manu. If we really look around, it is not that difficult to notice the great innate light of talent and inborn wisdom in almost all the kids we come across. That light starts fading away, when they start the formal schooling and get them oriented towards meaningless achievement. When we ( yours truly and my better half Thara) was looking around for a place to stay, the only criterion we had was we should be staying near to a place where there is a offbeat school. And we had settled down on Kanakapura Road.
Even though there are many things we don’t agree upon, one of the things we did agree was, whatever the circumstances , we do not want our kids to live their lives to fulfill our own unfinished script, our own unfulfilled ambitions , to rewrite the stories of our own failures and half successes.” We don’t want to them to live remaining part of our lives. We wanted both Manu and Rishi to chart their own course and write their own script for themselves, creating magic in their own Narnia worlds.
Was trying to watch one of those meaningless Chinese martial art movies over the weekend. Switched off when I had realized I was missing Manu’s presence. Manu was in Mysore for his well earned vacation after all the “Hard work “, he had put in @ his Montessori, Karate, Chess and Painting classes. ( He still has enough energy in his reservoir to fight with Rishi, his younger brother and ransack my bookshelf )… Watching together a movie was a routine that started happening quite recently. One Saturday night, as I was putting away a book I was trying to read , I had realized that Manu was still watching TV.
The moment he saw my shadow, he had his ready plea coated with that sweet 1000 W smile. “Papa, this is not Cartoon. Narnias, why don’t you see? It’s good.” My 4.5 year old son is well aware of his parent’s concern over his overindulgence in the world of Power rangers , Spiderman and Ben 10. I could not say no to the best salesman in the world, even though, I do shy away from watching movies based on the good books I have read and liked. (The only exceptions probably were Godfather and Gone with Wind.).
The movie was almost coming to an end. There was this scene when Trees starts moving to help the heroes. And I tried telling my son that rational aspect of the world. It is just a movie and Trees can’t move. He looked at me quite amused at my incredulity and chastised me saying “ Papa, when Lion can speak English, trees can run too.” That was quite water tight logic; I didn’t have much of an answer. For the rest of the movie, I just watched the movie. The punch line was yet to be delivered. The moment the final scene , where the protagonists got transposed back to the London Underground station came, he got up and announced that “Magic is Over and it is time to sleep.”
Even though I am quite aware that we human beings are wired in our brain, to distinguish between a photograph and actual person, a movie and real stuff, I felt it was quite incredible for a young kid to make sense of it quite intuitively.
As Buckminster Fuller had written “All kids are born geniuses, and we elders degeniuse 9999 out of every 10000. “
Then it is not just about Manu. If we really look around, it is not that difficult to notice the great innate light of talent and inborn wisdom in almost all the kids we come across. That light starts fading away, when they start the formal schooling and get them oriented towards meaningless achievement. When we ( yours truly and my better half Thara) was looking around for a place to stay, the only criterion we had was we should be staying near to a place where there is a offbeat school. And we had settled down on Kanakapura Road.
Even though there are many things we don’t agree upon, one of the things we did agree was, whatever the circumstances , we do not want our kids to live their lives to fulfill our own unfinished script, our own unfulfilled ambitions , to rewrite the stories of our own failures and half successes.” We don’t want to them to live remaining part of our lives. We wanted both Manu and Rishi to chart their own course and write their own script for themselves, creating magic in their own Narnia worlds.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
In "Out of Office Replies".
In- Out Hamza was quite a famous character in our village / town, the hero or villain of many a legends. In Kerala, it is really difficult to distinguish where a small town ends and where a village starts. As with legends, it is also difficult to distinguish rice from the chaff. One thing I am quite sure. Every time I heard it, the story line got better. The most authentic one, I guess was how he got that moniker. It was said, that he got so fascinated by the In – Out board he saw in front of the Medical college’s professor’s private clinic, he got one for himself even before his caretaker could buy medicines as per prescription. Soon he had started using it 100 %. Even he used to step out his home to the front yard, the legend goes, he used to change the board, to denote the status.
At work every time I used to get an Out of office reply I used to remember about In-Out Hamza story. Probably that made me spend a bit more time than really necessary, in reading and analyzing those out of office replies. In my view, it does tell a lot about the persons behind those innocuous automated replies.
There are folks who put in very discreet messages as they are in life. And then there are people who share their Itinerary, especially when their official work takes them to fancy places. (Las Vegas, Davos etc.). Some sound very apologetic being away from work even while they are on their holidays. And some are in good need of a Wren & Martin.
I did collect a few good ones. I know there are people who collect stamps, watches etc. I collect out of office replies. A friend of mine, who knew about this, did send me a note from web which had a lot of funny ones. Here below I am sharing a few of them.
1. I am currently out at a job interview and will reply to you if I fail to get the position. Be prepared for my mood.
2. You are receiving this automatic notification because I am out of the office. If I was in, chances are you wouldn't have received anything at all.
3. Thank you for your email. Your credit card has been charged $5.99 for the first 10 words and $1.99 for each additional word in your message.
4. The e-mail server is unable to verify your server connection and is unable to deliver this message. Please restart your computer and try sending again.
(The beauty of this is that when you return, you can see how many in-duh-viduals did this over and over.)
5.. Hi, I'm thinking about what you've just sent me. Please wait by your PC for my response.
6. I've run away to join a different circus.
7. I will be out of the office for the next 2 weeks for medical reasons. When I return, please refer to me as 'Loretta' instead of 'Bob'
But still I think the best ones are, I was fortunate to get in my own email id.
Sample this.
“If you asked, WATIS it that makes you not reply back immediately?
I'd only say, 'Yes!’ I am at the WATIS forum on 16/17/18th. :) “
Another…
“I am like a caterpillar today afternoon. On leave!
Like a backward moving caterpillar. In a retreat! Back on Monday. “
And the best one in my humble view
“The full form of KUMBH is - Kurrently Unavailable (My Big Holiday).
Gone to check out the full form of kumbh. Back on Monday. KUMBkHt XYZ :)”..
By the way, he is one of the fascinating, brilliant and creative character I happened to meet in a otherwise “white lagon” world of IT industry. A True fusion of Head, Heart and Hands.
And since he seems to be in mood to attend Spiritual retreats, my list of Out of office replies may get many more good additions.
At work every time I used to get an Out of office reply I used to remember about In-Out Hamza story. Probably that made me spend a bit more time than really necessary, in reading and analyzing those out of office replies. In my view, it does tell a lot about the persons behind those innocuous automated replies.
There are folks who put in very discreet messages as they are in life. And then there are people who share their Itinerary, especially when their official work takes them to fancy places. (Las Vegas, Davos etc.). Some sound very apologetic being away from work even while they are on their holidays. And some are in good need of a Wren & Martin.
I did collect a few good ones. I know there are people who collect stamps, watches etc. I collect out of office replies. A friend of mine, who knew about this, did send me a note from web which had a lot of funny ones. Here below I am sharing a few of them.
1. I am currently out at a job interview and will reply to you if I fail to get the position. Be prepared for my mood.
2. You are receiving this automatic notification because I am out of the office. If I was in, chances are you wouldn't have received anything at all.
3. Thank you for your email. Your credit card has been charged $5.99 for the first 10 words and $1.99 for each additional word in your message.
4. The e-mail server is unable to verify your server connection and is unable to deliver this message. Please restart your computer and try sending again.
(The beauty of this is that when you return, you can see how many in-duh-viduals did this over and over.)
5.. Hi, I'm thinking about what you've just sent me. Please wait by your PC for my response.
6. I've run away to join a different circus.
7. I will be out of the office for the next 2 weeks for medical reasons. When I return, please refer to me as 'Loretta' instead of 'Bob'
But still I think the best ones are, I was fortunate to get in my own email id.
Sample this.
“If you asked, WATIS it that makes you not reply back immediately?
I'd only say, 'Yes!’ I am at the WATIS forum on 16/17/18th. :) “
Another…
“I am like a caterpillar today afternoon. On leave!
Like a backward moving caterpillar. In a retreat! Back on Monday. “
And the best one in my humble view
“The full form of KUMBH is - Kurrently Unavailable (My Big Holiday).
Gone to check out the full form of kumbh. Back on Monday. KUMBkHt XYZ :)”..
By the way, he is one of the fascinating, brilliant and creative character I happened to meet in a otherwise “white lagon” world of IT industry. A True fusion of Head, Heart and Hands.
And since he seems to be in mood to attend Spiritual retreats, my list of Out of office replies may get many more good additions.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Surreal Tunes..
Surreal tunes …..
Ever since I have moved into a Kanakapura road apartment complex named as Tranquil, an early morning walk thru Lalbagh and breakfast in one of the café’s around Jayanagar ( Maiyas is my favorite, even though we choose it quite democratically!) On Saturday mornings with 3 of my friends had become one of the refreshing habit. Usually we stick to this positive routine, unless otherwise someone in the in the pack find something more amusing or important to do on Saturdays. This Saturday it got cancelled. Sheik Iyer, the defacto and de jure leader of the pack was catching an early morning train to Chennai. “Sheik” , by his sheer personality ( more than 6 ft tall, athletic and lean @ 40, clean shaven Zen monk like appearance ), honest and sincere approach and unparalleled commitment to the purpose , is our leader @ Tranquil community too. Someone who could make the transition from being a CFO and Board member of a Middle eastern conglomerate, fat pay cheque, mansion and a fancy SUV to the scooter riding, Fab India clad Social worker with effortless Buddhist equanimity , he is already quite a legend. Or at least one in the making.
I forced my offer of an really early morning to drive to the station over his protests, so that I could find some time alone @ Lalbagh on my way back. Thought, a couple of hours of solitude might be of help in getting over the bruises of a recent small event in my life. It wasn’t really much to talk about. But the sheer hypocrisy & unfairness, convoluting insensitivity and lack of concern shown by others who matter, did sadden me a bit.. May be just a bit, that many didn’t even recognize it beneath my toothy forced smile. Except my little Budha @ A 707, Manu. The most compassionate one on Earth after the ” original one” had left this place some 2000 years back, announced in his concerned tone “Papa you look sad” while offering a piece of Cadburys bar. He is someone who usually takes at most care in not sharing chocolates and sweets lest it might hurt other’s dental health. (
It was quite pitch dark @ Lalbagh @ 5: 30 am. Even the street lights were not on. Not really wanting to take a chance with my delicate ankles , I chose to sit near the lake and meditate. An hour would have passed like a trifle. But the experience might have been quite deep. The tides in my mind’s muddied lake had settled down. I came out of my meditation listening to a Keerthana played on violin. Opening my ears to that soothing balm with settled and clear mind & eyes to the twilight’s rays, with cool but dry breeze in the air was one of those magical moment. A moment with ethereal quality. Indeed it is those moments in which we die to this world, really enable us to live in it, with a fair amount of balance and equanimity. Most probably the homosapien would have invented the art, music and meditation just for this and not for salvation to reach a-place-called - heaven. (Anyway many want to be there without really dying and a few really blow themselves up!)
Guruprasad Rao, a classy connoisseur of Karnatic Music and a good pal , had told me, many times , that there used to be many good concerts @ Lalbagh during early morning hours. Leaving my usual walk trail, I trudged towards the Band Stand through the south side of Rose Garden to be part of my first concert @ Lalbagh. The young girl had already moved on to “Valiya Nayagane”. There were just a handful of people around the bandstand. Their body language and the way they appreciated did reveal their good knowledge about music. It really seemed the number of audience did not really matter to her. She might have been playing for roses, birds , the giant cotton tree and the almighty spirit which connects all of them. In that state of mind and at that moment, I thought she was no less a violinist than L. Subramaniam, Kunnakudi and Lalbagh Bandstand is any day better than Prince Albert hall or Shanmukahanda hall.
May be it is another of those interesting coincidence or play of providence later in the day that I happen to get a story which I read first time from the book Alpha Leadership: Tools for Business Leaders Who Want More from Life, by Ann Deering & Robert Dilts many years ago. I had used this story umpteen times in my toastmaster speeches. Still I found it relevant and refreshing and worth quoting verbatim.
“On November 1995, the violinist Itzhak Perlman performed at the Lincoln Center in New York City. He had polio as a child and walks with crutches. The audience waited patiently as he made his way slowly across the stage to his chair, sat down, put his crutches on the floor, removed the braces from his legs, settled himself in his characteristic pose, one foot tucked back, the other pushed forwards, bent down to pick up his violin, gripped it with his chin, and nodded to the conductor to indicate he was ready.
“It was a familiar ritual for Perlman fans: the crippled genius making light of his disability before his sublime music transcended everything. But this time was different.
“‘Just as he finished the first few bars,’ the Houston Chronicle music critic recalls, ‘one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap – it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do.’ It was obvious – he had to put down his violin, replace his braces, pick up the crutches, heave himself to his feet, make his laborious way offstage and either get another violin or restring his crippled instrument.
“He didn’t. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then signaled the conductor to begin again. The audience was spell-bound.
Everyone knows it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that. He played with such passion and such power and such purity…You could see him modulating, changing, and recomposing the piece in his head…At one point it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get…sounds from them they had never made before.
“When he finished there was an awed silence, and then the audience rose, as one.”
We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering – doing everything that we could to show him how much we appreciated what he’d done. He smiled, wiped the sweat from his brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said, not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone, ‘You know, sometimes it is the artist’s task to find out how much music he can still make with what he has left.’
I had to take my own broken stringed violin ( which I would have touched just for a few hours in last 10 odd years!) to 8th Cross, 8th Main shop in Jayanagar 2nd Block. In the usual corporate style sales talk to build rapport, I asked him the price of new violin. In his inimitable way, the owner of the shop replied that even though he do have violins which cost up to Rs. 25k, my present one is really a good one.
He just took Rs. 50 and 5 minutes to fix my violin.
I might take a little while longer. A symphony is overdue with or without broken strings.
Ever since I have moved into a Kanakapura road apartment complex named as Tranquil, an early morning walk thru Lalbagh and breakfast in one of the café’s around Jayanagar ( Maiyas is my favorite, even though we choose it quite democratically!) On Saturday mornings with 3 of my friends had become one of the refreshing habit. Usually we stick to this positive routine, unless otherwise someone in the in the pack find something more amusing or important to do on Saturdays. This Saturday it got cancelled. Sheik Iyer, the defacto and de jure leader of the pack was catching an early morning train to Chennai. “Sheik” , by his sheer personality ( more than 6 ft tall, athletic and lean @ 40, clean shaven Zen monk like appearance ), honest and sincere approach and unparalleled commitment to the purpose , is our leader @ Tranquil community too. Someone who could make the transition from being a CFO and Board member of a Middle eastern conglomerate, fat pay cheque, mansion and a fancy SUV to the scooter riding, Fab India clad Social worker with effortless Buddhist equanimity , he is already quite a legend. Or at least one in the making.
I forced my offer of an really early morning to drive to the station over his protests, so that I could find some time alone @ Lalbagh on my way back. Thought, a couple of hours of solitude might be of help in getting over the bruises of a recent small event in my life. It wasn’t really much to talk about. But the sheer hypocrisy & unfairness, convoluting insensitivity and lack of concern shown by others who matter, did sadden me a bit.. May be just a bit, that many didn’t even recognize it beneath my toothy forced smile. Except my little Budha @ A 707, Manu. The most compassionate one on Earth after the ” original one” had left this place some 2000 years back, announced in his concerned tone “Papa you look sad” while offering a piece of Cadburys bar. He is someone who usually takes at most care in not sharing chocolates and sweets lest it might hurt other’s dental health. (
It was quite pitch dark @ Lalbagh @ 5: 30 am. Even the street lights were not on. Not really wanting to take a chance with my delicate ankles , I chose to sit near the lake and meditate. An hour would have passed like a trifle. But the experience might have been quite deep. The tides in my mind’s muddied lake had settled down. I came out of my meditation listening to a Keerthana played on violin. Opening my ears to that soothing balm with settled and clear mind & eyes to the twilight’s rays, with cool but dry breeze in the air was one of those magical moment. A moment with ethereal quality. Indeed it is those moments in which we die to this world, really enable us to live in it, with a fair amount of balance and equanimity. Most probably the homosapien would have invented the art, music and meditation just for this and not for salvation to reach a-place-called - heaven. (Anyway many want to be there without really dying and a few really blow themselves up!)
Guruprasad Rao, a classy connoisseur of Karnatic Music and a good pal , had told me, many times , that there used to be many good concerts @ Lalbagh during early morning hours. Leaving my usual walk trail, I trudged towards the Band Stand through the south side of Rose Garden to be part of my first concert @ Lalbagh. The young girl had already moved on to “Valiya Nayagane”. There were just a handful of people around the bandstand. Their body language and the way they appreciated did reveal their good knowledge about music. It really seemed the number of audience did not really matter to her. She might have been playing for roses, birds , the giant cotton tree and the almighty spirit which connects all of them. In that state of mind and at that moment, I thought she was no less a violinist than L. Subramaniam, Kunnakudi and Lalbagh Bandstand is any day better than Prince Albert hall or Shanmukahanda hall.
May be it is another of those interesting coincidence or play of providence later in the day that I happen to get a story which I read first time from the book Alpha Leadership: Tools for Business Leaders Who Want More from Life, by Ann Deering & Robert Dilts many years ago. I had used this story umpteen times in my toastmaster speeches. Still I found it relevant and refreshing and worth quoting verbatim.
“On November 1995, the violinist Itzhak Perlman performed at the Lincoln Center in New York City. He had polio as a child and walks with crutches. The audience waited patiently as he made his way slowly across the stage to his chair, sat down, put his crutches on the floor, removed the braces from his legs, settled himself in his characteristic pose, one foot tucked back, the other pushed forwards, bent down to pick up his violin, gripped it with his chin, and nodded to the conductor to indicate he was ready.
“It was a familiar ritual for Perlman fans: the crippled genius making light of his disability before his sublime music transcended everything. But this time was different.
“‘Just as he finished the first few bars,’ the Houston Chronicle music critic recalls, ‘one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap – it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do.’ It was obvious – he had to put down his violin, replace his braces, pick up the crutches, heave himself to his feet, make his laborious way offstage and either get another violin or restring his crippled instrument.
“He didn’t. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then signaled the conductor to begin again. The audience was spell-bound.
Everyone knows it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that. He played with such passion and such power and such purity…You could see him modulating, changing, and recomposing the piece in his head…At one point it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get…sounds from them they had never made before.
“When he finished there was an awed silence, and then the audience rose, as one.”
We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering – doing everything that we could to show him how much we appreciated what he’d done. He smiled, wiped the sweat from his brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said, not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone, ‘You know, sometimes it is the artist’s task to find out how much music he can still make with what he has left.’
I had to take my own broken stringed violin ( which I would have touched just for a few hours in last 10 odd years!) to 8th Cross, 8th Main shop in Jayanagar 2nd Block. In the usual corporate style sales talk to build rapport, I asked him the price of new violin. In his inimitable way, the owner of the shop replied that even though he do have violins which cost up to Rs. 25k, my present one is really a good one.
He just took Rs. 50 and 5 minutes to fix my violin.
I might take a little while longer. A symphony is overdue with or without broken strings.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Transformations
“It is the very flexibility of relationships that makes it possible to transform unpleasant interactions into tolerable, even exciting ones. How we define and interpret a social situation makes a great difference to how people will treat one another, and to how they will feel while doing it. For instance, when our son, Mark was twelve years old, he took a shortcut across a rather deserted park one afternoon as he walked form school. In the middle of the park he was suddenly confronted by 3 large young men from the neighboring ghetto. “Don’t make a move or he will shoot you,” one of them said, nodding towards the third man, who had his hand in the pocket. The 3 took away everything Mark had- some change and a worn Timex. “Now keep on going. Don’t run, don’t even turn around.”
So Mark started walking again toward home, and the 3 went in other direction. After a few steps, however , Mark turned around and tried to catch up with them. “Listen,” he called, “I wanted to talk to you .” “Keep going”, they shouted back. But he caught up with the trip, and asked if they would reconsider giving him back the watch they had taken. He explained that it was very cheap, and ho possible value to anyone except him: “ You see, it was given to me on my birthday by my parents.” The 3 were furious, but finally decided to take a vote on whether to give the watch back. The vote went 2 to 1 in favor of retuning it, so Mark walked proudly home without change but with the old watch. Of course it took his parent a lot longer to recover from the experience.
From an adult perspective, Mark was foolish to possibly risk his life for an old watch, no matter how sentimentally valued it was. But this episode illustrates an important general point: that a social situation has the potential to be transformed by redefining its rules. By not taking on the role of the “victim” that had been imposed on him, and by not treating his assailants as “robbers”, but as reasonable people who might be expected to empthasize with a son’s attachment to a family keepsake, Mark was able to change the encounter from a hold up to one that involved, at least to some degree, a rational democratic decision. In this case he was largely dependent on luck: the robbers could have been drunk. But the point is still valid: human relations are malleable, and if a person has the appropriate skills their rules can be transformed.”
- From the pages of “Flow - The Psychology of Optimal Experience”.
One’s own experience is the best arbitrator. During 1998, I had a once- in- lifetime opportunity to live in a dilapidated condominium near a ghetto in West Haven, when I was working as programmer in USA. The money we used to save most diligently by living in that part of the town was quite often shared with the needy big built black boys quite often. During one cold and snowy Winter night, as I returned home from the movie “Wag the Dog “ ( Robert DeNiro & Dustin Hoff man classic) and stepped out of my car near the apartment, I got mugged by a teenaged Black boy. Even though he surely appeared to be in early teens, he was a tall Dennis Rodman ( Chicago Bulls !) look alike and I did not have any qualms in being an highly intelligent and wise Desi, in handing over my purse most dutifully. As he took 10 – 20 Dollars I had kept in my purse, he looked at the family photo I had kept in the purse , and then taking pity on me threw the purse into the snow and walked away. While searching for my purse in that cold inhospitable night, I did have mixed feelings about the whole episode. Later, whenever I attended a personal development program like NLP, as the instructor asked us to relive one of the unpleasant episode in my life, as part of mental exercises, almost always this incident used to pop up in mind. Some 12 years later, I had the same exasperated feeling, as my builder was haggling for more money most unfairly, holding the registration and handing over of my apartment. When I told them that the black boy who had mugged me had more ethics and values than them, I could see the hurt feeling in their VP – Sales’s face and I did manage to register and get my apartment without opening my purse or letting down myself. Subsequently, even though my antagonism towards the builder continued in abundance, I did have a healthy relationship with this Sr. Executive, whom I thought was quite reasonable and total misfit (as for the value system) working in construction industry. Incidentally he quit them last month.
Human perceptions, relationships and social situations are quite malleable and we do have the power to transform them. IMHV, more than the skills, undying passion for not letting oneself down, attitude of not pitying oneself and inner strength for being “Wholly Integrated & Feeling secured ” are the catalysts and reactants of such transformations.
So Mark started walking again toward home, and the 3 went in other direction. After a few steps, however , Mark turned around and tried to catch up with them. “Listen,” he called, “I wanted to talk to you .” “Keep going”, they shouted back. But he caught up with the trip, and asked if they would reconsider giving him back the watch they had taken. He explained that it was very cheap, and ho possible value to anyone except him: “ You see, it was given to me on my birthday by my parents.” The 3 were furious, but finally decided to take a vote on whether to give the watch back. The vote went 2 to 1 in favor of retuning it, so Mark walked proudly home without change but with the old watch. Of course it took his parent a lot longer to recover from the experience.
From an adult perspective, Mark was foolish to possibly risk his life for an old watch, no matter how sentimentally valued it was. But this episode illustrates an important general point: that a social situation has the potential to be transformed by redefining its rules. By not taking on the role of the “victim” that had been imposed on him, and by not treating his assailants as “robbers”, but as reasonable people who might be expected to empthasize with a son’s attachment to a family keepsake, Mark was able to change the encounter from a hold up to one that involved, at least to some degree, a rational democratic decision. In this case he was largely dependent on luck: the robbers could have been drunk. But the point is still valid: human relations are malleable, and if a person has the appropriate skills their rules can be transformed.”
- From the pages of “Flow - The Psychology of Optimal Experience”.
One’s own experience is the best arbitrator. During 1998, I had a once- in- lifetime opportunity to live in a dilapidated condominium near a ghetto in West Haven, when I was working as programmer in USA. The money we used to save most diligently by living in that part of the town was quite often shared with the needy big built black boys quite often. During one cold and snowy Winter night, as I returned home from the movie “Wag the Dog “ ( Robert DeNiro & Dustin Hoff man classic) and stepped out of my car near the apartment, I got mugged by a teenaged Black boy. Even though he surely appeared to be in early teens, he was a tall Dennis Rodman ( Chicago Bulls !) look alike and I did not have any qualms in being an highly intelligent and wise Desi, in handing over my purse most dutifully. As he took 10 – 20 Dollars I had kept in my purse, he looked at the family photo I had kept in the purse , and then taking pity on me threw the purse into the snow and walked away. While searching for my purse in that cold inhospitable night, I did have mixed feelings about the whole episode. Later, whenever I attended a personal development program like NLP, as the instructor asked us to relive one of the unpleasant episode in my life, as part of mental exercises, almost always this incident used to pop up in mind. Some 12 years later, I had the same exasperated feeling, as my builder was haggling for more money most unfairly, holding the registration and handing over of my apartment. When I told them that the black boy who had mugged me had more ethics and values than them, I could see the hurt feeling in their VP – Sales’s face and I did manage to register and get my apartment without opening my purse or letting down myself. Subsequently, even though my antagonism towards the builder continued in abundance, I did have a healthy relationship with this Sr. Executive, whom I thought was quite reasonable and total misfit (as for the value system) working in construction industry. Incidentally he quit them last month.
Human perceptions, relationships and social situations are quite malleable and we do have the power to transform them. IMHV, more than the skills, undying passion for not letting oneself down, attitude of not pitying oneself and inner strength for being “Wholly Integrated & Feeling secured ” are the catalysts and reactants of such transformations.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Freedom from Conditioning or Free- Doom ?
“One morning an irrestible force propelled MIT Professor Marvin Minsky to one corner of his class room and pinned him there as securely as a butterfly impaled in a museum showcase. It was force of habit – a brand new habit imposed upon him on the spot by a group of playfully experimental students. The boys had him at their mercy, as if he was a robot slave and they the masters at the controls.
They ‘robotized’ Minsky with a psychological ruse much like the methods for teaching rats to run through a maze, or training a dog to fetch a newspaper. Soon after the class began, a few students started manipulating him. Whenever he paced to the right, they whispered softly to each other, rustled papers, dropped pencils, and created other minor distractions. But when he happened to take a few steps to the left, they sat up and paid close attention to the lecture. In short they conditioned Minsky by repeatedly punishing him for moving in one direction and rewarding him for moving in the opposite direction. Within half an hour he stopped pacing altogether and stood like a cigar store Indian near the left hand edge of the black board. So subtly had he been habituated that he did not realize an experiment was in progress, and that he was the guinea pig - ironically , since Minsky is a leading authority on the theory of automations.” (Think, November – December 1969).
By all accounts, Minsky is not one of those ordinary Steve and Charlie. Minsky is listed on Google Directory as one of the all time top six people in the field of AI. Isaac Asimov described Minsky as one of only two people he would admit were more intelligent than himself, the other being Carl Sagan. Patrick Winston has also described Minsky as the smartest person he has ever met. That is some CV, I should say.
Now the pertinent question to ask is where does that leave us? I.e. You and me? When someone like the caliber of Minsky was so easily susceptible to environmental conditioning? How free we are? “Free Will”, “Clear thinking” , “ Seeing it as it is”, “Objectivity” - Are these just yearning s of a mind which is a prisoner of Conditioning. Some of it inherited. By Nature. And some of it acquired thru Nurture.
Are n’t we living the lives of Somnolence, as programmed characters in a Shakespearian drama. Conditioned to see what we want to see, hear what we want to hear and feel what we want to feel.
Perhaps we fail to understand that these conditionings act as Filters between us and the “Real world out there”.
In all reality, it is in our arrogance, we added one of the many meaning of the word Twist “to alter or distort the intended meaning of”.. It suggests that human beings do that only intentionally and deliberately. All other times they seem to claim as they get the Meaning as it is! As one of the best examples of cultural conditioning, it still holds out against some 2500 years of “Experiential Wisdom” of one Sidhartha Gautama who suggested it all starts with having “Right View”. The “Meaning of Meaning” proposed by I.A. Richards, which literally suggested that meaning resides in people and not in Words. It all boils down to same. We create our own Worlds in our Brain, which could be an absolutely distorted version of the real World out there. The realization that our own conditioning and filters Twist (the way I see that) and distort reality may be the sign post at the fork between freedom and free-doom.
They ‘robotized’ Minsky with a psychological ruse much like the methods for teaching rats to run through a maze, or training a dog to fetch a newspaper. Soon after the class began, a few students started manipulating him. Whenever he paced to the right, they whispered softly to each other, rustled papers, dropped pencils, and created other minor distractions. But when he happened to take a few steps to the left, they sat up and paid close attention to the lecture. In short they conditioned Minsky by repeatedly punishing him for moving in one direction and rewarding him for moving in the opposite direction. Within half an hour he stopped pacing altogether and stood like a cigar store Indian near the left hand edge of the black board. So subtly had he been habituated that he did not realize an experiment was in progress, and that he was the guinea pig - ironically , since Minsky is a leading authority on the theory of automations.” (Think, November – December 1969).
By all accounts, Minsky is not one of those ordinary Steve and Charlie. Minsky is listed on Google Directory as one of the all time top six people in the field of AI. Isaac Asimov described Minsky as one of only two people he would admit were more intelligent than himself, the other being Carl Sagan. Patrick Winston has also described Minsky as the smartest person he has ever met. That is some CV, I should say.
Now the pertinent question to ask is where does that leave us? I.e. You and me? When someone like the caliber of Minsky was so easily susceptible to environmental conditioning? How free we are? “Free Will”, “Clear thinking” , “ Seeing it as it is”, “Objectivity” - Are these just yearning s of a mind which is a prisoner of Conditioning. Some of it inherited. By Nature. And some of it acquired thru Nurture.
Are n’t we living the lives of Somnolence, as programmed characters in a Shakespearian drama. Conditioned to see what we want to see, hear what we want to hear and feel what we want to feel.
Perhaps we fail to understand that these conditionings act as Filters between us and the “Real world out there”.
In all reality, it is in our arrogance, we added one of the many meaning of the word Twist “to alter or distort the intended meaning of”.. It suggests that human beings do that only intentionally and deliberately. All other times they seem to claim as they get the Meaning as it is! As one of the best examples of cultural conditioning, it still holds out against some 2500 years of “Experiential Wisdom” of one Sidhartha Gautama who suggested it all starts with having “Right View”. The “Meaning of Meaning” proposed by I.A. Richards, which literally suggested that meaning resides in people and not in Words. It all boils down to same. We create our own Worlds in our Brain, which could be an absolutely distorted version of the real World out there. The realization that our own conditioning and filters Twist (the way I see that) and distort reality may be the sign post at the fork between freedom and free-doom.
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