In an argument, try to listen to the other person carefully. What is she saying, how is he reacting to your sentences. Most of the time, during a feisty debate, we tend to pay attention only to the voices inside our heads instead of focusing on what the other person is saying. This brings down the quality of the discourse and nobody really wins. A good argument is built on logic and rebuttal. A bad argument is what we—the lesser mortals, the cursed listeners—generally are content with. Of course, it goes without saying that the best argument is the one that never takes place.
Somebody messaged me on Instagram asking answer for Ranga on what is the best part about being a dog. I tried my level best to get some insights from him, to help frame a good response, but the son of a bitch doesn’t care. Going by his attitude, perhaps, the best part about being a dog (like him) is he is devoid of expectations. We have zero KPIs for him. We didn’t teach him how to sit, shake, twirl or shit. He does whatever he feels like: lying around the house in different positions all day long. If he takes a dump and pees thrice a day, we are extremely happy with his performance. Imagine the drop in the canine bar for this fellow. He sometimes barks at the delivery boys and that’s about it. The other night, he had an encounter with a massive white owl which landed on the balcony parapet. Interestingly, after moving to Mangalore, that was the only instance where he displayed some interest in another creature.
Small towns have their own set of principles. People here won’t count money in your presence. It’s perceived as a sign of mistrust. They might count in your absence when you hand them the cash, they’ll just slide it into their breast pocket or shop counter. This peculiar behaviour is an indication of how much significance is laid on building personal relationships, instead of worrying too much about the commercial angle. Without a relationship, there is no business anyway. Small towns are small not only because of its size and influence but also because of its connectivity. Everybody knows everybody. If people in Gurgaon bothered to know each other like this, even Gurgaon would feel like a small town.
What you miss the most is often what you haven’t experienced.
Let me explain through a conversation I had with KG a couple of years ago.
Me: “Of all the places you’ve lived, what do you miss the most?”
KG: “Sweden, obviously. It was the best. What about you?”
Me: “Sweden.”
KG: “Wow, I didn’t know you’ve been to Sweden.”
Me: “No, I haven’t. And that’s why I miss it the most.”
Different cultures react differently to the same situation. In eastern countries, you’d observe that bad news is hidden from an ailing person as long as possible. If a grandma in the house has a bad heart, the family members would let this news marinate inside their worried mouths instead of dropping it on the poor lady’s head. In the west, things are different. Even if a said old person has cancer, the family wouldn’t shy away from keeping things real. What’s common to both these sets of family members is they actually love the sick person in question. Just that their response to emotional stimuli is vastly differently.
On more than one occasion has this blog cherished why trust is unquestionably the single most criteria for civilization. Without our ability to blindly trust each other, we’d have been a different species altogether. In spite of millions of stories that must dissuade us from getting our hearts broken and our eyes teary, we simply go ahead with our so-called gut feeling. Isn’t that simply amazing? There is no greater miracle than this: the genuine belief in another human being’s decency to keep their words and integrity. If there is an alternate universe, no matter how epic it is, I am sure it’s depleted of trust. There is no way this ability of ours isn’t unique to us.
There are two types of Champions in this world: the competitive and non-competitive. Those who belong to the former category are already worshiped at the altars of fame. They are already paened by journalists who should have been poets in the first place. In fact, their net worth is thousands of times more than it ideally should be. Why? Because they maintain the balance of the media world: stories published on the last pages of a newspaper are much more real and motivational than the grim pieces published on the front and middle pages. It’s easy to understand the economics here. However, what about the non-competitive champions? Who is going to take note of their accomplishments? Especially when they are able to do what most of them can only aspire to. I am talking about champions who can sleep for 9 hours straight, and better still, sleep through anything, including a house fire. I am pitching for those who know how to truly relax with a favourite book and savour a moment without any hurry to get over stuff. I am crying my heart out for those who have mastered what can’t be quantified in a tangible world, at least not with the amount of business it generates. The list goes on. When are we going to celebrate these champions?
My maternal uncle is 78 and is completely deaf in one ear and can barely hear from the other one. It wasn’t always like this. He was born a normal baby but an accident during his pre-teens days left him diminished in his auditory areas. Despite these unwelcome changes, he remained cheerful and entertained people around him with his light-hearted banters. So much so if you go to Kemmannu village today, there is not a soul there who doesn’t know him or isn’t fond of his positive energy. He is the perfect candidate for all those viral inspirational videos on Instagram: people who don’t let adversity get the better of them. He once told my mother, “People have been teasing me all my life, calling me deafie and whatnot, not realizing that the joke was on them because I could barely hear them.”
We grow tired of everything. Eventually. If you think that the ongoing remnants of Age of Reason—let’s call it the Outrage—would last forever, then you are terribly mistaken. The very reason why people are thoroughly entertained with their own verbal depravity is because of the entertainment value hidden in it. The day they find something more rewarding—could be anything that is better and bigger than online anonymity—they will sweetly move on. That’s how chemicals inside our brain work: always on the prowl for something snappier. Nobody is stuck at Super Mario video games today despite the dripping nostalgia. Similarly, people will move on from this bloodthirsty desire to be offended to, maybe, a stage where they will reflect. For a change, they will either look and ignore or look and empathize. I already have a name for that era: Inrage.
The little old man, a vegetable vendor for as long as he can remember, curiously takes my forearm in his hand to closely inspect my tattoos. After a good 20-30 seconds, he looks up at me and remarks, “you know these stains’ won’t go.” I chuckle and tell him that they are not supposed to go. In his world, tattoos are permanent blemishes that should be avoided as much as possible. In my world, tattoos are temporary reminders of who we once wanted to be.
Sympathy is a strange animal in today’s world of instant coffee and instanter gratification. What else can explain the brouhaha around Meghan Markle’s interview by Oprah? All of a sudden, people started pretending as if a celebrity couple, with loads of celebrity friends and extended network, is somehow the best candidate(s) to sap on a commoner’s imagination of what bad luck looks like. And let’s not even get into the morality of the situation. British monarchy, by design, is an outdated concept and you marrying into it—knowing very well its recent history and machinations—is nothing but a lame validation of an old institution that shouldn’t exist in the 21st century. Anyway, the point is, Harry and Meghan are doing fine. They are only going to do great in the near future. That’s how celebritydom works. Save your sympathy for somebody who’s never going to be heard.
Why tattoos don't go away?
Found your writings by accident, staying here on purpose. Really loved what you wrote about the tattoos!
Beautifully written !!