Work Sucks

I've finally returned to writing real stuff :) Not just technical manuals. Special shout out to a dear friend and author - Sri Ramana Muliya - for kicking my rear back in to writing the good stuff (although this next piece is crap)

Work Sucks 

Work sucks.
This I know.
It's like being buried alive
Under a mountain of yellow snow

As far as the eyes can see
And the mind is willing to bend,
All I can see is desolation.
Yet, all I do is pretend.

That everything is fine.
That my deadlines will be met.
Pray how will I complete,
The work that three others were set

Its diabolical, sometimes, I think
That I need to press on with pointless tasks.
While the wine of the sweat of my brow
Is filling that other guy's flasks

Although there is no help at hand;
Although my struggle does not avail;
My mind is a fortress flying the flag of hope.
Hope, yet, that the strength of my mind will prevail

Work sucks.
This is true.
But that I do not give it my all,
Please do not misconstrue

Believe it or not

I am a huge fan of cricket. Heck, I'm a fan of any team sport because it helps build character and what the French so beautifully called espirit de corps. Cricket charges me up not only because it has such beautiful elements of strategy and action, but also because it teaches virtues such as patience, practice, fortitude, humility, defense, offense, when to let something go, and when not to let something go. It teaches us so much about life. It's a shame that such an amazing game has been so misappropriated, humiliated and slandered.

The IPL betting scandal has put cricket and everything glorious about it under the germ scanner. Many people are delighted that such a scandal was exposed because the IPL, according to them, represents all the evil in this world - ungodly sums of money, sleaze, booze, dope... the list goes on. Some are even calling for a ban on the gentleman's game. In my humble opinion, all this hatred and negativity is uncalled for. The guilty must definitely be caught and punished. However, just because a few people involved with cricket are corrupt, cricket does not become meaningless. It does not make the effort that honest players put in worthless. Just as no player is above the game, corruption in the game is not above the game. To be able to see the game in this light, we need to believe in the sanctity of the game.

Belief is not something that comes easy. If we were to ditch everything on the basis of corruption, imagine our life. No democracy because most of our netas are corrupt, no schools because teachers are only interested in taking tuitions and do not teach anymore, no religion because so many of our religious leaders are corrupt, no movies because some movies are funded by the underworld, no soccer because almost every other match is fixed, and now no cricket because Sreesanth and his friends were such asses. Everything around us, every system, and every institution is tainted by corruption. Do we abandon everything because of this?

We need to believe in the good that still exists. Nothing is ever purely good. The greatest good in this world has the potential to become the greatest evil. We need to believe in the part that is good, and that it will eventually always triumph. This could be in governance, in religion, society, value sets, what have you. If we stop believing in our inherent potential for goodness, we will be left wandering in a very dark place.

We need to believe that in the face of adversity, when the darkest times are upon us, the best in us will stand up and deliver. In 2000, when Azhar (my favourite batsman even when Sachin was in his prime) and Jadeja were indicted in match fixing scandals, Sourav took the helm and with the help of cricketers who played for pride and honour, rebuilt the side. Those of us who never stopped watching cricket after Azhar was thrown out; those of us who believed that this too would pass were rewarded with some of the best times in Indian cricket.

As in cricket, so too in life, we need to believe that Good will thrive in spite of Evil and not in its absence. We need to believe that our Wall will not crumble. In the immortal words of Journey, "Don't stop believin'...Hold on to the feelin'." 

2009, The year that was

The last year of this decade passes by and gives way to 2010. I tried to put together a small mélange of stirring events that occurred in 2009.

It was the year that a certain Mr. Barack Obama became President Barack Obama, who then became President Barack Obama N.L (Nobel Laureate); the year that one man dared to hope in change and dared to share his hope with millions of other people; the year that he tore down the shabby veil of political bigotry and apartheid that allowed a nation to send men to the moon, but restricted it from raising a man of colored origin to its highest seat. It was the year of change. Change brought about by vision and hard work; change that made Obama a household name and a hero of multitudes internationally.

Speaking of heroes, this past year gave us quite a few to remember. Heroes ranging from former president of the United States Bill Clinton, who single-handedly rescued American journalists from North Korea in an almost James-Bondesque fashion, to the doctors in India, who perform miracles almost every day of their lives. Unsung heroes like your neighborhood fireman and your mother who works 3 shifts so that you can eat better.

This was a year of losses. What greater loss than that of the greatest performer ever – Michael Jackson. People in my generation will remember that he uplifted us every day of our life. He gave us his music and he gave us his moves so that we may forget our sorrows and celebrate our joys. Among the more significant losses to USA, and specifically to the state of Massachusetts, was that of Senator Ted Kennedy, one of the greatest politicians and humanitarians of his time, who left behind a political and social void.

Death hunted in various forms – The Sri Lankan civil war was just one of those forms. Thousands of ethnic Sinhalese and Tamils lost their lives. This war eventually led to the military defeat of the LTTE and the demise of their chief Prabhakaran.

The H1N1 influenza strain, more commonly known as Swine Flu, became a true global pandemic and claimed hundreds of lives worldwide. Hundreds of Indians died because of this disease, and hundreds more are still susceptible to infection.

This was the year of Twitter. Thousands of people around the world chose to express themselves in the stipulated 140 characters or less. The most significant use of the Twitter network was in the organization of the anti-Ahmadinejad protests in Iran. Many celebrities used Twitter to log their lives for their followers. India’s own MoS (External Affairs) Shashi Tharoor got into more than a few spots of bother because of his Twittering ways.

It was the year that terror struck out at Cricket. Sports was hitherto relatively untouched by terrorism, but this time they crossed the line. Gunmen attacked Sri Lankan cricketers in Lahore, Pakistan and injured several cricketers. Speaking of cricket, it was also the year that the Indian cricket team finished at the top of the Test cricket list.

Horizontally Yours - The saas bahu saga

The eternal battle between saas and bahu does not have its roots in the teary bunkum that soaps love to wallow in. Its true base lies in something else - a connectere (connection.) We know that when we connect one object with another, there is a fusing of the two, either reversible or irreversible. Human binding is similar, and the strongest connections are those that have a physical base. Needless to say, this is the true reason for the squabbles between saas and bahu - A horizontal connection.

The mother-son relationship starts much before the son exists as a physically independent entity. It starts in the womb of the mother, where the mother and son are connected by the umbilical cord. This is a horizontal connection between the navels of the mother and son. Contrary to our understanding of the cord (mainly because its ugly countenance) , its potential significance in psychology is great. It is the first bond the son makes, and the bond that he learns to survive on. The connection delivers oxygen and nutrients, two things that the fetus desperately needs to survive. There is an exchange of body fluids. This is a unique bond that the mother makes. It is the only time another living being depends solely on her for survival. Everything she eats, drinks, breathes, does, and thinks affects the fetus inside her. She ensures the survival of another life inside her, and the umbilical cord insures it. This builds the foundation for intense bonds that develop between mothers and sons.

Cut to the bond that man and wife share - Some would argue, an equally strong bond, it has its basis in the same horizontal connection. It is the connection that man and woman share during the act of sex - When the phallus forms a connection with the cervix. Let us for once subtract the erotic connotation of sex and see the act for what it is. This, apart from the mother-son bond, is the only true physical bond where two human entities become one. It is a sign of extreme trust - both individuals allow an incursion into their most private zones. There is an all-consuming passion that drives this act. Like with the umbilical cord, there is exchange of body fluids. Survival does not depend on it, in a literal sense. However, I'm given to understand that the passion involved can be so great that it can make you feel on the edge of life itself! The abstracted strength of this bond is the potential in it to create new life. This is an enormous power - one known clearly to both individuals. Another reason for the strength of this bond is the hidden urge to recreate the physical bond felt between mother and son. As adults we do not know what the fetus must have felt. However, I believe that it has something to do with security. It is this that we unknowingly try to recreate during copulation - The overpowering feeling of safety when the man is physically enveloped by his wife.

Thus we have two bonds - One is the natal bond between man and mother, the other is the sexual bond between man and wife. The mother considers this new bond to be a replacement for her original bond; the wife considers the original bond to be a psychological vestige interfering with her bond.

Whichever way you look at it, these are the two most significant and emotional bonds a man is ever going to have. It is essential that he give each its place. It is equally important that both mother and wife look at roles they played before/will play in the future. After all, saas bhi kabhi bahu thi.

There'll be no more pain

A sprightly dash of yellow and green
Fills the charming meadow
The sun weaves a golden mesh
And life does it endow

The bees fritter from base to base
Working their task at hand
While the birds soar up high above
On a wave from the magical wand

So much laughter so much joy
The children come down to play
Among the flowers and down-like grass
Their tired bodies they lay

But grown-ups don’t like what they see
“Our children will just while away
It is imperative, to shackle them down,
This indulgent meadow must we flay”

Then they come with sickles and hoes
And rip the meadow asunder
The soft grass bleeds till it’s no more
And I stop to wonder

“What is with grown-ups and good things?
How can happiness bring them pain?
Why would they wreck havoc on innocence?
And treat me with disdain?”

I will stop the joy pouring out of the sky
I will stop satisfaction peering from the ground
I will bring in the rank evil thistles
To grow in their gardens and around

To those who punctured me and laughed as I bled,
I always loved you and was in good faith
But you did me wrong…oh so wrong
So now brace up to face my wraith

I can hear screams of my antagonists
But mercy I cannot bestow
I must purge my lap of their abundance
And wipe their sweat off my brow

Then I’ll bring back the smiling flowers
And the bees can work again
The children can play sans inhibition
And there’ll be no more pain