Joyous laughs and lonely tears
A lot of my readers are under the wrong impression that I’ve figured it out yet. Trust me when I say: nobody has. Each one of us, irrespective of our pedigree and struggles, are destined to suffer in our own sweet ways. If you have a smaller house, it’s advisable to take comfort in the fact that you’ve got a house instead of wasting your energy on resenting those who have bigger houses. The same first principle applies to almost all areas of comparison. If you have something, try to focus on how you can make it more. Look at others only for inspiration (from) and pity (for), not scorn (at). This is the key to continued peace of mind. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck in an endless parade of forced solitude, which, as you must be aware by now, is worse than loneliness.
Different writers write for different reasons. Just like different people live for different reasons. Some are in pursuit of this, others are in pursuit of that. Either way, there is no endgame in sight. It’s never enough. That’s the bottomline. And if you are well versed with the game of chess, you’d be glad to appreciate this simulation.
I can’t dance. I just can’t. I’ve tried and have often contemplated joining a dance class to get my sticky legs to find rhythm, but to no avail. Even the most happening Punjabi bangers can’t make me leave my stupor state during parties. I am, in the words of Rihanna, hopeless. But then, if you zoom out and look at the bigger picture, everyone is dancing and I am not exempted. We are all dancing to the tune of the universe. Running around in a fashion that we can’t comprehend. The beauty of this design lies in its incognito mode: you can’t see it. You are made to believe that you are in control but the question looms – are you? Because when it’s your turn to dance, you dance whether the music is on or not.
Now that I am back to the Great Dust Bowl of India, I can affirm with utmost honesty that cities are built on the back of the givers. The more you give, the more the city will take. Like a faux deal between two uneven parties. One look at a city as depraved as Gurgaon, you can notice so many listless faces on roads that you become convinced that those who can call themselves ‘locals’ aren’t really in a position to call themselves ‘locals’. It’s twisted and so stark. For a city that thinks too much of itself, it’s also a silent lesson in mending relationships.
Speaking of Gurgaon, during my Zomato days, our headquarters was in OHC, a prime real estate. True to my boundless curiosity, I happened to meet someone who informed me that Zomato’s office nests in the same building that stands on a spot that once was a huge tomato market. I couldn’t verify this very interesting coincidence (?) but I was mighty amused. Particularly when you consider the fact that the name Zomato is a non-word (like Google, Skype, Häagen-Dazs, etc.) and simply alludes to the zinginess of tomato, hence the brand colour staying red throughout.
Like ulcers, everyone is entitled to their share of rubbish opinions. However, nothing takes the shithousery cake like cinema. Not even music comes close. We get excessively sentimental about movies as well as the movie stars—double whammy of the worst order. My theory behind this unhealthy obsession with those who pretend for a living is straightforward: we are instruments of bias during acts of voyeurism. And watching a movie is the most decent voyeuristic form of entertainment in our culture. Which is precisely why something is always missing in a movie when you dislike it but something is always there when you like it—but you can’t describe either fully.
The other day, we were discussing folks who achieve greatness but died in either penury or isolation or worse. There were peculiar characters like van Gogh and then there were rather bemusing ones like Tesla. In India, very few achievers faced the cruel hands of fate the way Dr. Subhash Mukherjee did. Despite his remarkable work, he was harassed by the state, leading to his suicide. One more person who is part of this despair list is Oleg Losev. He is the one who first came up with the concept of LED. To his bad luck, he passed away in a WW2 trench, dying without anything to eat. Always remember him the next time you come across or use a LED product.
Somebody in our office walked up to me and asked me why I don't have a lot of friends. She was clearly pointing to my closeness to Akshar. I humorously told her that I am too old to make new friends now. If they happen, well and good. If not, I am perfectly happy with my small bunch of friends. Of course, I’d love to converse and have meaningful interactions with a lot more people, but there are time (and effort) constraints in place. Just like love, if friendships have to happen, they will happen. Even the lasting ones.
There is no chemical formula for happiness. Yes, there are chemicals identified for the same but, in action, nothing would work for you if you aren't going to try. That’s the thing about happiness: those who sincerely seek happiness eventually figure out how to have it. It’s a matter of intent. Troubles arise when we think we are going to have an endless supply of happiness, making us more and more conscious of the approaching boredom. During such moments, we reveal ourselves, and if we are fortunate enough, we shall be in the company of those who make us happy in the first place.
Speaking of joy, let us throw some light on sadness too. Some of us, after facing one storm after another, tend to presume that their ship is meant only for the chaotic sea. At the risk of generalization, nobody is on the shore forever. Even those who appear “sorted” in their lives (and lifestyles). They are only great at hiding their real stories. Apart from this, they are struggling too. If you’ve internalized this sad piece of truth, you’ll be able to sail your ship effectively regardless of the weather. If not, before you even realise it, you’ve already turned into Benicio Del Toro's tired eyes. Just a matter of time.
2023 has been a lot of things for me and I had my few highs and many lows. But I am grateful for making a thorough attempt at understanding—not the same as reading or knowing the stories—Mahabharata. This epic makes you accept why four letters are enough for something so humongous in layers. Not a day goes by I wonder how the varied characters must have felt in their given situations. Obviously, we tend to harp upon Arjuna and his divine tête-à-tête with Krishna but there is so much more to perhaps the greatest human story ever told.
Those who can change the world are already doing it without any noise.
Those who can’t change the world but want to are already trying.
Those who don’t want to change the world are doing fine too.
Those who don’t know what’s going on are sleeping soundly.
All of these people are going to die.
But the world will stay on.