Being a Jedi

Have you experienced this feeling where time slows down, the mind gets blurred, the sounds get garbled, the heart starts thumping....?

No, I am not talking about falling in love.

I am talking about panic.

It was a normal grocery shopping trip. I was blithely strolling along the aisles, picking up my usual supplies like baby carrots, yoghurt, kadalai mittai when my brain executed one of its automated subroutines - of ordering my hand to go for the smartphone in my pant's front left pocket - and registered the empty space.

Of course, the rational part of me quickly killed the "panic". "It's just a stupid smartphone. It's not a big deal even if its lost" I told myself in a casual tone. May be the facts - that all my photos are synced in Google photos, that my WhatsApp is auto backed up, that everything else more or less is covered in my android sync - played a teeny tiny  role in my bravado.

No. Scratch that. Those facts actually, completely, fully and holistically caused that machismo.

And I also realised, retrospectively, that I cut short my shopping adventure to be able to come home as quickly as possible to confirm the suspicion that I had, in fact, just left the phone home in the first place. So the usual swagger that I have when I am carrying my grocery bags, that day, concealed a meaningless, futile, childish and stupid fear.

Fear of losing a material possession which was completely replaceable with no impact whatsoever.

When I realised how silly that was,  I tried to psychoanalyse myself and identify other such fallacies I may have. You know, because it's important to introspect and all that.

...Nah. Scratch that as well. I simply just have too much time and I get bored. (God! What is with my honesty spree here? I feel like Jim Carrey in Liar Liar)

Anyway, I realised that a lot of my hypothetical potential anxieties relate to losing something. Losing being the keyword. And something being a keyword as well. I don't know the point of those two sentences. But it sounds good. So let me just flow with it.

Fear of losing data connection on my phone, fear of losing my house key, fear of losing my wallet, fear of losing my passport and other such things. But those are on the mortal plane. What is horror film type scary? Fear of losing my identity (whatever that is), fear of losing my loved ones, fear of losing my life without realising that life is happening right now....

Now that I had anyway managed to scare myself witless I decided I should venture further and take this analysis to completion.So the next logical point was to explore what I might do if any of these fears come to pass. What if my phone is like the Padme to my Anakin and losing it might turn me to the dark side? That would be a fear materializing, leading to a reaction that I can't control, thereby leading to another fear, that of losing one's self-image, materializing. Aw hell.

So then I thought that maybe I should think of some hypothetical solutions. Hypothetical solutions because these were hypothetical fears to begin with right? I mean I can't seriously expect myself to actually do something in real for a potential hypothetical disaster. That is stupid.

Ah fine,  scratch that. It is not stupid. I guess it is wise. But come on. I am busy. I have all these books to read and TV shows to watch. And besides, what am I supposed to do anyway?

"Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose". Yoda's voice whispered in my head.

Yeah, Master Yoda? That's pretty convenient for you to say, you being fictional and all.

Anyway, the point is that that seems to be the only logical hypothetical solution. It is also supported by the countless cultures' and religions' emphasis on renouncing things or going off to the forest or meditating away the whole day etc.

Essentially to give up and chill.

The only problem with that hypothetical solution is that it sounds awfully close to being a wimp.

There is no way in hell, say, that I will throw away my smartphone now because I fear losing it. Besides, that whole solution sounds anti-capitalistic you know? The prudent thing would be to get whatever we can and then if we lose it, ah well, tough luck. But it is madness to throw something away.

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And That, That arrogant, ignorant  voice that justifies all my fallacies, that mocks at possible solutions, that glares at all my rare glimpses of wisdom, that convinces me to do what is easy now...

That is why I am not a Jedi. 

First World Problems

It was on a normal weekend, returning home from office (see what I did there?), all tired and worn out, hungry and sleepy, my mind in a hazy stupor that the metro's rumbling lullabied me into,  that It suddenly dawned on me that on an escalator going up, if I am staring right ahead,  I am in fact staring at somebody's bum. One part of my mind, still in the hazy stupor, chuckled at this observation. Another part of my mind said that nobody intends to stare at somebody's bum intentionally. The third part of my mind rebuked that second part of my mind saying "Duh! people ogle at strangers all the time". The fourth part of my mind, now starting to put it all together, told the first three parts of my mind that there is a possibility that other people's third part of the mind might be saying that I am one of  those strangers ogling at strangers bums. Then the wholesome unit of my mind decided that It's better to look at the side and then let the hazy stupor take over.

Mind: "oh, what if the people on the other side of the escalator going down think that you are looking at them".

Me:"You know what, I will just go back to my smart phone".

Mind: "ok"

After I reached home,  I kind of realised that that was a quintessential first world train of thoughts if there ever was one. And I also wondered now for some time about the usage of two "that"s in the previous sentence. "If you are writing a blog, you should at least avoid basic grammatical mistakes" my mind reflected. And so I searched a bit and found enough mentions that two "that"s are fine.

Me:"ok, good. so I can leave that sentence as is"

Mind: "ok thanks. It IS important to avoid these mistakes as much as possible"

Me:"Yeah. Totally. Else the millions of people who might read this would go "ugh"

Mind: "Sure. If you say so"

Me:"What"

Mind: "Dude. Nobody reads your blog"

Me:"waah?"

Mind: "......."

Me:"Okay. I knew that. You didn't have to say it. Fine. Be that way".

Mind: "......"

Me:"......."

Mind: "You want to hear something cool?"

Me: "what?"

Mind:"We just had a first world train of thought about a first world train of thought"

Me: "woah.... Sweeeeet!"

Mind:"Meta first world issues baby"

That conversation gave me a high.  You know. So I thought it would be a neat idea to think of some of the first world thoughts that I have had.

Since I will be posting this article on Facebook, that was the first thing I remembered. I have always thought that there should be a rulebook for social media because it's so confusing. Should I like somebody's post? What if it's a sad post? Oh yeah now finally Facebook has some smileys and shit. Anyway. And if somebody posts a sad post, can we post a happy post after that? Isn't that disrespectful? Can I add folks from  work? But LinkedIn is more appropriate for that. What about people at work who are also sort of like friends? Can I add them? What if they don't want to do fraandsheep with me but they accept the invite because they don't want to be rude? Ok, so I won't send invites unless I am absolutely sure they are friends. Phew..you see where I am going with this? Social media is tough.

Mind:"Do you think  not posting anything but using Facebook is like stalking?"

Me: "hmm ..interesting point you make there"

Mind:"But then by that same logic do people who post stuff all the time have a hidden desire to be stalked?"

Me: "boy that's rough. "

Mind:"Cook that noodle when you are bored in the next office meeting. It's interesting isn't it? Besides, you are a digital marketer. You can think about these things. It's practically your job man. That is NOT day dreaming dude. no way."

ok..what else..hmmm...ok.. a few days back, in some gathering, somebody said "ladies first" for something. And I thought that that was anti-feminist. Isn't it? I mean, women are equals and I think all distribution or allocation, at least in a first world setting, should be random. A wise man once said chaos is the only true justice. Anyway, I am digressing. I am all for feminism. Just that, while the concept is pretty easy to comprehend and get behind in all macro-socio-economic aspects like same wages, same opportunities, same liberties etc., it would be good to have some universal guidelines that cover all day to day interactions as well. For instance, is pulling a girl's chair out indicating that she can't do it herself?

Me:"I need to read some books about chivalry"

Mind: "Dude, I get chivalry, as an independent concept. Just that the intersection of that with feminism is tricky. Also, to be fair to the word, I think the true meaning of the word "chivalry" is just being polite and courteous; also probably "courageous" in a medieval setting

Me:"and I suppose technically, we should be polite and courteous to everybody."

Mind: "Exactly. But we wouldn't pull the chair for an able-bodied guy under the name of politeness would we? So then why for women?"

Me: "What if the women expect it?."

Mind: "Wouldn't that make women anti feminists?

Me:"Dude. it's just pulling the damn chair. How does it even matter either way?"

Mind:"Sure. But semantics is fun."

Me:"he he..true."

Mind: "Also, just thought I will give you a heads-up that this topic is controversial. Like, really. "

Me:"But I didn't say anything bad or hurtful!"

Mind: "But you are talking about things that you have no idea about"

Me: "Meh. by that logic, I cannot talk about anything"

Mind: "ok true that. It's not like anybody cares about what you say anyway"

Me:"Dude, I am not sure if that is supposed to make me safe or bad"

Let's talk about falling sick. You know what is worse than falling sick? Falling sick on a weekend. Because I need to decide whether to go to work or not the next day. And it is tricky because taking the first day of the week off (or the last) makes people think that  the guy is lying. And I do know that people think that. I have actually heard people think that. It's not a big deal but I guess that's what makes it a first world issue.

Me: "Doesn't  all this first world problems kind of sort of reek of..you know.. shade of narcissism?

Mind:" it IS narcissism. Seriously? kind of sort of shade of.. gah!..you sissy human!"

Me:"But I am not narcissistic! I mean..not totally..oh god ..Am I a narcissist?... what if everybody thinks that about me. oh god-oh god- oh god."

           Mind: "Great. I guess you don't get the irony here do you?

And just the other day I was thinking about how I am getting old now  and how I have started getting these weird questions lately.It is not fun!! I mean, it's that phase of life where I get these random questions in my head like "Is this the profession that I should spend my life in? " or "What should I do in the next 5 years?"  or "what is the meaning of my life?" or "Why am I here?". And it IS really confusing because I get these questions mixed in simultaneously with these other questions like  "Should I upgrade my PC?" or "Did Batman V Superman really deserve the trashing it got?" or "Should I read a new author next or go back and finish the trilogy that I started?".  And sometimes I binge watch a TV series and I suddenly feel all alone because all my friends are busy and then I log on to 9gag and laugh for a bit and then again worry about life, the universe and everything ( good reference right?  :))

Mind:"You have a good job?"

Me: "Yes..but then that other fellow got a promotion and I didn't"

Mind:"ok fine..leave that.You have a wonderful family?"

Me: "Sure. yes..but they are not here though..they are all over the world now"

Mind:"I understand..ok.Do you have good friends?"

Me: "Sure..but again most of them are married or busy or something"

Mind:"You make enough money?"

Me: "meh..not as much as I should be making for all the slogging I do"

Mind:"Dude. you know what? Brood away. I tried to make you feel better but you are f**k**g  hopeless"

Me: "Hmmm..."

..

..

..

Me: "So in the Days of  Future Past did wolverine have bone claws or adamantium claws?"

So anyway, if you are reading this blog - thank you! It does mean a lot to me you know. I mean we did already establish that I am narcissistic and have first world issues. Duh..I mean it was in the title of this post. So anyway, do tell me you liked it or something. As in, you know, just be nice. Because social validation is important and critical and is a measure of my happiness and confidence and other such stuff. You understand that don't you? Sure you do *wink*.

Me: "Well. That was fun"

Mind:"Dude. You have way too much time. You need to get a life"

Me: "Oh come now. Don't sound like ...um....like everybody else"

Mind:"Fine"

Me: "What?"

Mind:"Why don't you live it up? Go to wild parties. Get drunk. Buy Apple products"

Me: "er..umm...because you don't let me do those things?"

Mind:"oh. "

Me: "uhuh"

Mind:"Ok.Yes.haha.Sorry, I had a mind fart. "

Me: "Since you are my mind, shouldn't you say just say "I had a fart" ?

Mind:"Shut up and go to your damn Kindle "

Me: "okayyy"

Hero Pen

Forced by a sudden gush of nostalgia, the sight of a Hero pen put me on an auto mode in which I robotically took one to the counter and paid for it.

I also got an ink pot. No, the nostalgia story was cut short of perfection for I couldn't get a "Bril" ink bottle. But that is ok I suppose. Too much goodness runs the risk of being cloying.

I just reached home and filled it with ink. 

Here it is :)

It is fascinating how certain objects tap specific memory banks in our minds, bringing up memories we didn't know we had.  

I remember the daily ritual of filling ink in the morning before going to school, of the "ink" cloth that lies inside the ink bottle's paper box that was so fascinatingly patterned after a while that we could have done Rorschach tests with it, of the various pens that I have had, of the multiple pencil boxes that I have had. God. I could go on. It's like a Wikipedia rabbit hole. Each click leading to a new memory. But this post is about the Hero pen.

Or more specifically, about what I think the Hero pen taught me, at least subconsciously. Many of the lessons below are my retrospective fit  of what my young, naive mind might have taken in without understanding or realizing the import at that time. But I am sure they left a mark.

Hero pens taught me patience. A new Hero pen's nib is rough. It scratches the paper when we write with it. It sends a jarring note down  our arm into our teeth. It is annoying, irritating and slows down the speed of writing. But it smoothens. With every page and every word written. So I used to persist with it, knowing that every word I wrote was making the nib smoother.

                Some things need work and there is nothing we can do about it except putting in the time.

Hero pens taught me that I can have pride in something that I have worked hard for. A smooth fountain pen was a matter of pride among my friends. Having used a Hero pen for months & years, the fluidity it reaches and the familiarity of the pen in my hand were proud possessions- the heft of the pen, the balance of the weight, the impact of putting the cap on the back on that balance, accurate judgement of how long an ink fill will last. Having a pen and knowing these about it were  matters of pride.

                Some things cannot be bought, transferred or given, even in good will. 

Hero pens taught me about sharing. When I was thinking about this, I realized I remember all my friends whom had given ink to me or taken from me in class. Not many such friends. But that's probably telling. They were and are still some of my best friends. Those were "inked" bonds.

                Some relationships are special and we can lean on them in a time of need.

Hero pens taught me that the world can seem like an unfair place but that it doesn't really matter. Some were able to get Parker pens which were all smooth right out of  the box. Some were cooler and had Pilot microtip pens which were not even fountain pens. These were the aspirational stuff then. For some lucky ones a fountain pen used to start writing smoothly from the start. These things were always a cause of great envy. But I had a Hero pen that was  as good or better and it was mine and it served me well.

                Some people have it easy and some people don't. But this really has no impact on our lives.

Hero pens taught me to treat precious things preciously. Having a pen for a considerable period of time means it  gets emotionally important after a point.  It goes from being a pen to becoming my pen. The value an object commands is many a times a function of our internal framework. My dad had a pen for close to 3 decades. And as dads are always our heroes, for me owning a pen at that time for as long as possible was a matter of personal expectation. Though I never even came close to my dad's record because roller balls & gel pens took over around the time I finished school,  I still remember the "care" I took of my old pens - just a few notches below the level of me murmuring "my precious".

                The importance of a thing is not intrinsic. It's completely up to us. And it will show in how                       we  deal with it.

I used "pens" in plural in all the illustrations above. And there is a reason. And its related to probably the most  lesson of all that the hero pens have taught me. Hero pens taught me the reality of loss. That gut wrenching few seconds when the pen slips from the desk - the frantic but unsuccessful grasp in mid air, the sound of the pen hitting the floor registering in the ears, the hoping-against-hope that the pen landed on the back tip instead of the nib, reaching down to pick the pen up with the heart thumping in the ears, praying to all the gods in all the religions as the nib is tested on the notebook and the final deadening realization that the nib is broken. That is it. The few seconds cannot be undone. The world's unfairness had nothing to do with it. The god or gods had nothing to do with it. The friend who was talking when the pen slipped had nothing to do with it. I messed up for a second and what was gone will remain gone.

                Some losses are permanent. We just have to accept  it irrespective of whether there was or                    wasn't anything  that we  could have done differently.

Well, I know that these are some strong points to attribute to something as trivial as a pen. But I think that is how learning happens - over time, from all the things in our life small and big, from all the people in our life petty and kind and from all the events in our life eventful and non-eventful. 

Everything counts.

Everything - however negligible, however subliminal - teaches us. Even my Hero pens. 

Collage

Start of a new year like any other date based milestone that we celebrate is a curiously eccentric human thing. On closer, sober scrutiny they tend to seem like artificial constructs without any real significance on the journey but they give us occasions to be happy, wish people and reflect, which are all extremely legitimate & critical reasons  to perpetuate the practice.

The only dampener on that logic is that, ideally, if being happy and connecting with friends & people and reflecting on our lives are so very important, we should be doing these all day, every day.

But hey, we are busy.

So take advantage of these artificial constructs, we shall.

I think doing so also lends itself well for that reflecting piece. A new year seems like a good time to take stock - emotionally & psychologically.

Memories have a way of coming up as these random discrete images. It's as if, subconsciously, our brains have decided to precipitate an experience, a continuous linked set of events or an emotional feeling that has grown over time into one or few vivid images; Pinnacles that soar above the cloud of our consciousness to stand out from all the earthy rocky moments of our existence; Snapshots of life that we have subconsciously hash-tagged as worthy of remembrance.

As its wont, memories catch us unawares. When we are about to drift off lying in bed. When we are standing in a crowded metro. When we are walking alone on a chilly evening. When we are dreaming.

If we let that moment sustain, it sometimes feels surreal. It's like how the images fuzz out when we squint our eyes and let the borders dissolve. A kaleidoscope of memories.

2015 has given me a fair share. So a new year seems as good a  moment as any to build the collage of our being as a measure of what the last time period has been. A palette of memories - Joyous, melodious, sorrowful, angry, peaceful, exhilarating, humbling, shameful, prideful memories. Images that are colorful and bright. And images that are grey and dull.

And when this happened to me today morning, I realized I had mostly heartwarming images swirling in my head. Yes, there were sad ones. But such is a human life. And besides, when we really go meta on it, the black & grey pixels are essential for a painting that is meant to be rich and colorful and vibrant to actually be rich and colorful and vibrant.

And while there are many counter views, I believe memories are our only anchor. Memories are what made and is making us, us. Memories are our identity. And when all is said and done, when all superficial trappings of our life have been lost or rendered meaningless, memories are our only possession.

So I wish you and myself, as the new year begins, that we make good memories in the coming year.

To let the images collect in our lives' albums, knowing that some are bound to be black and hoping to have the wisdom to acknowledge that they are enriching the collage.

Here's to a colorful new year.