How to make a right choice?
One can safely believe in statistics as long as we don’t run out of truth. Statistics is there to help us understand the truth, not the other way around. Given the wide-spreading digital world that we inhabit, it’s easy to forget how easily we want to believe something we really want to believe in. A majority of all humans don’t lose their sleep trying to figure out the reality. A majority of us are inherently peaceful. It’s often a few who make the most noise because they aren’t in sync with the world that surrounds them. This might explain why—according to new research—less than 1% of Internet communities start 74% of conflicts. Aggressive individuals indulging in loud expressions because they are not OK with the way things are. What they end up achieving is open (not?) to discussion but what they fail to touch upon is obvious: the difference between statistics and truth.
Here’s something you already know as you usually do—it’s just become a habit of sorts to ask others for their opinion about stuff that is entirely about you—particularly when this concerns your happiness. At least your idea around it. Trust me on this, others aren’t supposed to be the DRI for your happiness. They can’t always make you happy and even if they succeed to some extent, it’s a double-edged sword. You might get addicted and crave it when not provided anymore. Hence, it’s advisable to treat your happiness as your private property. And if others are making you happy, then it’s only a bonus. Good to have it but not heavily depending on it. Thanks.
The hegemony of Hindi is worrisome for it not only subdues regional languages in the non-Hindi heartland but also pretty much hollows out age-old rustic tongues in the Hindi belt. Too much attention is paid to the former reality and too little said about the latter. Insofar, the only reason why Hindi remains the fastest growing language in the country is because of the convenience it brings. That’s it. English is less about convenience and more about affluence. People have a greater chance of singing a Hindi song before speaking it fluently.
My first ever hostel roommate was a boy belonging to the Angami tribe from Dimapur, Nagaland. His name was N and his English was fabulous but his Hindi was below poverty line. As one can expect. However, he made wholesome efforts to pick up the language. By the end of the three years that we were together, he spoke communicable Hindi, with his humorous additions to syntax. He coined his own words over time and people around him adjusted comfortably. My fondest memory of his vocabulary was how he appreciated: instead of saying “bohot pyaara lag raha hai”, he would say “kitna pyaar lag raha hai”. Pyaar indeed.
Since we mentioned English as a prima donna language, let’s dive into a rather intriguing phenomenon. BTS is arguably the world’s biggest music band right now. It consists of seven young men who are extremely popular across the globe for singing relatable Korean songs. They were launched about a decade ago and in a relatively short period of time, they are pretty much ubiquitous today. A part of the credit goes to the rise of K-pop but then, K-pop’s rise is in congruence with BTS’s popularity. Yet, when you listen to the interviews of these dedicated individuals, you’d notice that their hair might be peroxide blonde but they are rooted. Sometimes, way too humble for the sheer density of their audience and unprecedented influence. At the height of the pandemic, they released the biggest ever music premiere on YouTube. Their fans are learning Korean just to enjoy their music more. And their continued success carries a cute conclusion: English is grossly overrated.
While watching the Korean families drama Reply 1988 (2015), you’ll be introduced to several relatively familiar cultural nuggets. The elders, even if they are a year old, are shown respect and addressed with unique honorifics. Bowing is essential too and so is serving drinks to the older person at the table. I found these visible regularities interesting because we can’t be sure whether that’s how things are in 2021 in prosperous South Korea, right? Wrong. Things are pretty much the same, to a large extent. Not much has changed in terms of behaviour over the 30+ years. Christianity might be the fastest growing religion there—upwards of 30%—but South Koreans continue to take pride in their culture. Their distinction is often in contrast with (oppressive) Japan and (emulative) China. So much so you’d notice that the chopsticks they use in Reply 1988 are mostly made of steel; not all chopsticks are made of wood. In fact, South Koreans are known to prefer steel chopsticks and slender, longer spoons. Amazing how one show, if you pay attention, can make you curious on so many levels.
“Am I beautiful?”
“Yes, you are.”
“Are you lying?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Being beautiful is not enough.”
“Why?”
“Being photogenic matters more.”
“Rubbish.”
In an organization, not all teams work on the same level. In fact, chances are not all members of a team work in tandem. The difference between a good organization and a great organization is everybody has the same information as well as the objective. Failing which, some members would be doing maximum weightlifting—which is fair as long as these heroes and heroines are noticed for their enthusiasm—and the others would be just walking along. Not exactly an ideal scenario. In such a team, some are likely to say “I’ll take care of this” before going ahead and accomplishing much more than that. And most are likely to say “I’ll take care of the rest” before going to rest.
What we know of the (present) world is constantly changing. Last year, we didn’t know there was an ocean called the Southern ocean. But now we do. The facts keep on changing and we learn to know better. When I was in school, Pluto was a planet, J&K was a state, Bill Cosby was a legend and AIDS was incurable. With time, attitudes change. When what we think is the present can alter so much, imagine how much the past can evolve? Particularly when there is no way to go back and check what really happened. One method to come close to the actual is to dwell into the stories that yarned much later. For example, the portrait we identify for Christopher Columbus was commissioned almost 15 years after his death. Despite his exploits, he didn’t die a famous or a wealthy man. So, we can’t even be sure how he really looked liked. However, from the stories that were written posthumously give us a peek into the man who wrote those letters to the pope. That’s how history works. Connecting dots, especially where no dots exist. I feel the Zimbabwean writer Chenjerai Hove beautifully captured the soul of our collective helplessness – “I always tell people that if they want to know about the history of a country, do not go to the history books, go to the fiction. Fiction is not fiction. It is the substance and heartbeat of a people's life, here, now, and in the past.”
Do the right thing. Even if it hurts, do the right thing. When the circumstances are staring at you, make a choice that will never come back to haunt you. Most of us are born warriors but turn into cowards to save our skin for a bit longer. Life is momentary for a reason. We keep yoyo-ing between extremes, assuming that we have mastered them, but in essence, we always fall short. We repeat the same patterns, the same mistakes, missing out on the same lessons. Why is this so? Because we don’t make the right choice. We go for the easier route, only to wonder later why we got lost. I think we can do much better at an individual level and stop bothering ourselves about the long haul. Hasn’t the pandemic taught us anything? There is no long haul. What is now is now.