Soul

 

Long past the hours of the night, he sits staring at the window. Its dark outside, there is nothing to be seen. And yet, he has passed hours in this trance. Would it be wrong to hope as a man who lost everything? Would it be idiotic if he chose to look beyond the current state to one which he cannot yet see?
Several months ago, he was just another man. Just another man drudging through life as though it was routine to him now. He was young, but there was an oldness in him that reminded many of people of another generation. A misfit, that's what he was. Unknown to the masses was a secret he was hiding. He had been hiding it for years now.

Disorders bring a certain anxiety to people, specially rare ones. They choose to go beyond normal reasoning, they behave in ways that will seem odd to many, they will push away the ones they hold dear, they will ask for more pain because it's the only way they know they are still alive. About 8 years ago, he was tested for a rare blood disorder and found to be one in a million cases that has the disorder. Its manifestation is slow and later on in life, and hence, it was difficult to detect. Even worse, it was impossible to cure. It could be slowed down though.

As he looked out the window now, the different 'specialists' and their words of advice kept running through his head. "We're sorry, but there's not much life to look ahead to", "40 years of a well-lived life is something you can look forward to","While most other men will be at their peak, your mind will deteriorate, your nerves and organs will malfunction, but your spirit will be untouched. It should be".
It should be. But its been so long and arduous, that nothing can remain unaffected. Not even his spirit. There seemed to be some headway he was making. He got used to the weekly medication sessions, the fact that he won't be an athlete anymore, the awareness that he cannot start a family. He got used to it all. He reminded himself of this every time he looked in the mirror. He got used to it all. Till she came along.

She was an average girl, quite as average as he was. And yet, never could anyone move him quite like she could. There is a weird strength that certain people have. They can draw you to them, they can hold you in rapture, they can make you sweat on cold nights and make you shiver in warm afternoons. There is a pervasive force these people possess. Once they enter, they take over the whole mechanism. Every thought, every word, every song, every road reminds you of them. They are loosely termed as 'soul mates' and yet, there is so much more to them. She was his soul mate, and to his good fortune, she believed it too.
For several weeks, they got to know each other, spending time and effort in keeping the other one happy, and in the process being so much happier. He knew that this was the one who would change everything forever. Love is blind they say. Love is also unreasonable, it is also without a logic. He forgot his condition, he forgot his doctor's advice.

And one day, it came back to him. One day like any other. One day after several weeks of elation. He reasoned it over and over. He thought of how it could affect her. He thought of the possibility of making it work. He dug up old research on his disorder and tried to find any new treatments that could help. To no avail.
As a cold waft hit him from the open window, he was shaken. Her image flashed in his eyes. He recalled the day she was told about the disorder. He recalled her patient voice assuring him that she would stand by him. And yet, he could not let her. She meant too much. There was not much to look forward to in his life, and she could very well be the last glimmer of hope for him. He reasoned with her, he told her of why it was an improbability and why he thought she would be better off without him. She would not listen, she would not back out. He had to push her away, she won't go on her own.
Each day he would come up with a grand plan of pushing her away and yet keeping her happy. Logic and reason, he said, would somehow come through for me. He foolishly thought he could make it work for her. And yet, the end of each day brought with it weakness. He could not stay away from her anymore than she could. Meanwhile, she sensed something was amiss. She tried to calm him, tried to assure him. He would not listen, he was too scared.

And then the day arrived. The day he hoped would arrive. The moment he hoped would hurt less. Naïveté.
She walks away. Not because of the disorder or the love, but the man himself who could not bring things to terms. The man who chose to bring a sword to a gunfight, tried to fight love with logic. And failed.

He watched the curtains flutter with the wind, knowing this was all there was. A sudden pain entrenched him, tugging at his chest. He fell on the floor, writhing and pushing the table to hold onto something. There was not much to hold on to anywhere, in all terms of the phrase. Slowly, his struggle reduced. His writhing stopped. And then his heart.

 

…

Adieu

 

It was a dark cold night. The vapors from the street light had begun to fade under the fog. Warm breaths kissed into the air with a puff of cold mist. I watched her as she ambled across the street slowly. Slightly drunk. She would never get high easily; at least, that's what she had told me. Yet today, her walk seemed a bit different; frivolous even.

About 8 months before this cold night, on a searing hot summer day she had walked into my life. Not unlike a cool summer breeze that pervaded one's clothing and inhabits the senses, she had filled the emptiness I harbored. It did not take much. It took just a glance. And then several glances after that. I operate this small grocery store in this relatively small area. I did not have the resources or the range that bigger stores had, but I had the privilege of being the stockist of several rare items that food aficionados and hobbyists seemed to want.

I can usually read people well. Even before they can ask for an item of their interest, I can nearly predict the list running through their mind. But when she walked in that day, I could not read her. Or maybe I could have and did not. Maybe it was the grace with which she moved around my shop. She did not walk up to my counter and ask me for things, like the others did. She walked around the store, gently touching the tops of the containers of sunflower seeds and pistachios among others. I watched her patiently as her fingers stroked the bead curtain that separated the store from my warehouse. I did not stop her as she peered in. On my study rested a small statue of Buddha which was gifted by a friend. It caught her attention. The base had 3 red hexagonal rubies originally, but now had only two. She beamed an angelic smile, still looking away from me. And began walking towards the counter.

Just about then, our eyes had met for the first time.

Just like they are meeting now, this moment.

She crosses the street slowly, never breaking the eye contact or the seemingly surreptitious smile. Her last few steps are hurried, like a sprinter crossing the finish line. She walks into my arms and mutters a sheepish "Hello". I smile back and seat her down on the pavement. The cold seems to be getting worse. I watched her as she continued to smile and removed a cigarette from her pocket.

"You started smoking again?" I asked.

"Just for today" she grinned, looking remorseful as well.

She offered me a puff, it was too cold to refuse. And here we were, two kindred souls sharing a smoke. The cigarette tip glowed in the cold and even sputtered at times with each puff. Perhaps it was the only thing that spoke amongst us now. I took one last puff and handed the cigarette to her; she did not take it. She had her head down between her knees. I tapped her shoulder, offering it again. No response. I took another puff and stubbed it.

"Do you know if you will ever return again?" she asked, still with her head low.

"I don't know. I don't think so" I said.

Another long pause.

"I think you should leave here soon. It’s better for the both of us" she said, in a muffled voice.

"Hmm…"

She raised her head and looked at me, "What hmm? Why do you always do that? I never understood it!" Her eyes had welled up, though she bravely fought the tears from flowing.

I could not say anything. What does one say at moments like these?

"What time is your flight?" she continued.

I looked down at my watch and said "In about 4 hours…"

She laughed and then broke into tears, almost abruptly.

I put my arms around her, holding her close. It was always easier to isolate emotions when you run them in your mind, but it was beginning to seem difficult now. I held her close and kissed her skullcap. She held onto me tightly.

I don't know how much time passed since. I did not want to look down at the watch. But I had to. It was time to leave. I arose, picking her up with me as well. She clumsily took out a small box from her pocket.

"You aren't gonna propose, are you?" I joked.

She laughed and then hit my hand "Idiot! Any excuse for a joke no?"

I smiled and started opening the gift. She held my wrist tight. I saw that look in her eyes and I knew she meant it. I nodded and picked up my bags, pocketing the box in my jacket. We walked towards the Taxi stand. The slowest and longest walk I have ever been on. It was worth every minute.

"You leave first" I said, motioning her to a taxi.

She got in, and then jumped back out of the taxi. She hugged me tight, making me drop my bags right there. It was an embrace neither of us will forget for years to come. We parted, and she was still in sobs. I put her in the taxi, and kissed her forehead. The taxi started to drive away. I kept waving at her, she did not look back.

As I put my bags in the next taxi, I kept thinking about the past couple of months. I kept thinking about how this would all have been easier if only life was an option I had. I brushed away these thoughts as I sat in the taxi; they seemed to weaken me. As the taxi began to drive away, I removed the box from my pocket and opened it. Without a warning or even an inkling of what was to happen, my eyes welled up. I put the box on the seat next to me and looked out of the window.

Lying in the box, small and shiny, was a red hexagonal ruby.

…

Words

 

Words - those innocuous killers of things good and bad. Go back to the most beautiful scenery you can recall. Now, try and describe it. Kind of robs it of the whole beauty, doesn't it? What happens when a indescribable beauty is met with an expectation to word it in an indefinable space? We lose, and miserably at that.

Why is love any different? We forge bonds that outlast time and yet, sometimes they do not have a definition, they do not have a name. Bonds that seem so intricate and ethereal, that a mere whisper might break them. And sometimes, whispers do. Bonds that make you think that there is a reason to believe in a higher power, to believe in soul-mates, to believe in happiness. Bonds that are so endlessly meaningless that there seems to be a much better chance of moving a wall by pushing against it. And yet, we persist.

We press on when the end has passed us by. We press on when there is nothing to hold on to. We press on when the words, the actions, the love is of no avail. We press on till the nights merge into the days so seamlessly, they seem as one. And yet, we persist.

Words - those harmful harbingers of hope. They make you wait an extra hour even when the wait is futile. They make you see the good in people, the good that is just a blurry illusion to the rest of the world. They make you believe that no matter the outcome of yesterday or the situations of today, tomorrow will be better. They make you hope against hope that a chance exists, that the adage of every cloud having a silver lining could hold true. They make you believe in things that the practical mind and the wise soul vehemently disagree with. And yet, we persist.

We put our pictures, our memories on a wall of cobwebs held by the gossamer strands of hope. We know this, we know all of this. Soon, one memory will be too much. Soon, the wall will come down. Soon, the card house of hopes, of perceived realities and imagined possibilities will fall. Soon, the transparent dreams of tomorrow will shatter on ground realities. And yet, we persist.

Words - they are to blame.

 

…

To Sin – Part 1

There are sins common to all men that lies beyond the boundaries of right and wrong, or black and white. The boundaries defined by ethics or religion or moral conscience or a similar framework of judgment. While right/wrong, good/bad are a matter of perspective and insight, there are sins that are common to men from all walks of life. Morality as defined by this new framework seems more of a holistic understanding as opposed to the one we currently seem to hold.

In a speech given at Hyderabad for a forum discussion on Urban Development ideas, MP Dr. Jayaprakash Narayan spoke of two sins that plagued the country. These sins, according to him, were those of "Unfulfilled potential" and "Avoidable suffering". While it seems like something a personality development guru would have propounded, it is surprising that a politician (and a good one at that!) decides to talk about these as two critical sins. The root or the germinator of this study was this idea from Dr. JP.

Let us step away from the context of a country or a movement to that of our own selves. As we go along, we can try and understand why the focus on a movement can be removed for now, and instead, an individual focus may be mandated. Let us try and isolate these two sins to come to a broader understanding of the current human psyche. For the purpose of better focus (and easier reading!), this article will be divided into 2 parts. The first part will cover human potential and its implications today. The second part will cover unnecessary suffering and learning from that aspect.

 

Unfulfilled potential

Potential : As an individual or as a group?

The foremost and primary movement recognizing the need for humans to achieve their potential was the Human Potential Movement (HPM). Many names drove this movement, the most prominent being Abraham Maslow, Aldous Huxley and George Leonard (who coined the term HPM). The movement took ground on the premise that through the development of a human’s true potential, she would experience exceptional quality of life through happiness, contentment and creativity. And that those who begin to fulfill their dormant potential would direct their actions towards helping others achieve their potential, and thereby bring about positive social change. Idealistic, eh?

Well, the concept itself was not new. We have all studied/heard of Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs at some point in time. The need at the peak of the pyramid, defined as ‘Self actualization’, caters to the same idea. While HPM met some success at the beginning, and still has some followers, it fell into the trap that most movements fall into.
Movements are like individuals. Like a human is governed by his brain and its thoughts, a movement is governed by the few luminaries of the ‘tribe’ who propounded it. As it grows though, the ‘human’ effects of this luminary brain happen to hinder the movement more than it helps. Adherence to the HPM and its requirements led to hindrance in authenticity and encouraged groupthink. Instead of letting people decide what potential meant to them and how they could go about it, the attempt to monetize and commercialize it led to the creation of a rigid framework for achieving potential, which then became ironical, considering what it was started for!

There were and will be more movements that will focus on the human potential in some form or the other. However, like most movements, they are limited in terms of their applicability and relate-ability to a particular generation. There are numerous examples of highly successful movements of their time which did not do much for even the generation succeeding the one it worked in. So let us forget the social/planetary empowerment promised by movements and focus instead on individual empowerment, that has and will be the onus of the individual himself.

Understanding individual potential

In the Humanist Manifesto published in 1933, signatories agreed to the statement that evinced a strong belief in human potential-

“Man is at last becoming aware that he alone is responsible for the realization of the world
of his dreams, that he has within himself the power for its achievement”

While this statement by itself does not say much about potential, it drives at the heart of what potential means to an individual. Potential as defined in the words of Maslow, “What a man can be, he must be”, i.e. to become more and more what one is, to become everything that one is capable of becoming.

This concept isn’t new either. The Renaissance movement was started with the intention to honor learning and to honor men who were striving to achieve their full potential. These people were (and still are) called ‘Polymaths’. Leonardo da Vinci was from this era and is undisputedly, one of the greatest polymaths to ever walk the earth. Michelangelo, Francis Bacon were others. Benjamin Franklin was another polymath – inventor, statesman, businessman, philosopher, and much more. Polymaths are not always geniuses though. Nor is it the other way around. Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein and Marie Curie were considered geniuses, but their exploits and knowledge were confined to some very specific fields. They were widely acknowledged as geniuses but may not be considered polymaths.
Polymaths have larger subject areas and a deeper understanding in these. Its not a ‘jack-of-all-trades’ proposition, they are genuinely good in the fields that they pursue. You may have come across people like this in regular life as well – people who seem who be good at almost everything they do and seem to have answers to so many questions tucked away somewhere in their brains.

Polymaths are not restricted to arts, science, philosophy or other such fields. Consider Max Woosnam, a sporting polymath, considered “the Greatest British sportsman”. Max Woosnam toured Brazil with the famous Corinthians football team in 1913 and later captained Manchester City and the England national football team. He won an Olympic gold medal for tennis, played golf off scratch, scored a century at Lord's, and made a 147 break on the snooker table. He was also one of the 300,000 men to enlist in the first month of the First World War, fought with distinction, and endured the horrors of Gallipoli. He lived up to 72 years, and not long after another decent all-rounder, the journalist, soldier, painter, writer, orator, politician and statesman Winston Churchill.

All historic you say? Need a more recent example? Then turn your attention to Nathan Myhrvold. Nathan was CTO at Microsoft, and is co-founder of the venture capitalist firm ‘Intellectual Ventures’. Apart from being a holder of over a dozen patents, he is an award winning nature and wildlife photographer, a paleontology researcher and academic, a master French chef, author, and a social advocate. Even in pop culture, the concept of a polymath stands out. Case in point: Gregory House of House M.D, Gil Grisson of CSI and Fox Mulder of X-Files. How can one forget that eccentric polymath Sherlock Holmes? So as you might see now, the concept of a polymath is not something historic and not something impossible today. There are people who go about achieving their full potential or at least striving to achieve their full potential, even today.

What is the need for fulfilling one's potential?

Quite simply, we have to go back to Maslow. As much as there is critique for his pyramid of needs, it still remains elementarily what man strives for. The error made today is to club financial success with achieving one’s full potential, while this is far from the truth. Striving to achieve one’s full potential has very little to do with financial success. In fact, it could only be the by-products of one’s quest for achievement.
There are detriments though. The extent and variance of their learning and potential, makes polymaths seem eccentric at times and normal at other times. Forming social relationships and catering to social norms fall by the wayside in favor of furthering one's knowledge. The limits that we place on learning are usually self-imposed. While it may not be possible to be an equivalent of Ph.D in 4-5 very different subjects, the aim must be to learn as much as possible, which is what the famous polymaths have done over the years.

In our world, there is an increasing effort to specialize. Even in a regular profession (unlike doctors, where specialization is necessary), people seek to specialize in one or the other aspect, while leaving out a major chunk of learning. Seek to learn, seek to learn more and seek to learn more varied – this could be the mantra to the path of achieving one’s potential.

To conclude, I would like you to ponder over a famous quote from Robert Heinlein till the next post -

“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.”

 

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What’s your story of struggle?

 

 

“Time makes heroes but dissolves celebrities. .” - Daniel J. Boorstin

 

The wriggle of an earthworm on rough land does evince us of some sort of struggle. So does the bloody swim of some types of salmon upstream to find love (read: mating). And also, the flight of millions of birds down south for the winter. Every organism on the surface of earth has a story of struggle.

Quite similarly, and yet so differently, we humans have great stories of struggle too. Books on history have had us reading about men over the ages who had struggled to make something of themselves. Yet the most common of struggles is the unseen. It is the struggle we face each day with ourselves. The fight we face with the one who is you, and yet will not let you be yourself. Its amazing how we expect our loved ones to treat us as we are and 'let us be' when we cannot do it ourselves.

Think of this. The people you want to be with, but simply cannot. The group you think you are most like, and yet you cannot be one of them. The dreams that we harbor so deep, and yet they slip away each moment. The naive, optimistic half of our selves that tell us to surge ahead and not worry about the risks is often shadowed by the street-smart, pessimistic half that pushes you to play safe. The voice in your head that plays out a thousand sequences whenever you are faced with a decision. The memories that dwell and parasitically leech upon every moment of today. Its all a struggle. And its all internal. One of the shoe giants summarized this in an ad campaign some years back "Its you V/s. you".

The struggle is not to be greater than yesterday, the struggle really, is to be present in this moment. The struggle is not to think any less of yourself but to think of yourself less. The struggle is not to love less, but to love more and risk losing it all. It is not the things we perceive on the surface level that trouble us, it is the spiritual side of things that we all see from time to time and are scared by what we see.

But with this struggle comes pain, comes rejection. We are often faced with people, choices, consequences that push us against a proverbial wall. And yet there is much to be gained from this pain, from this rejection. Maybe it is the naive, optimistic half of me that is writing this now, but there is a lot that one learns from pain. People familiar to the science behind bodybuilding would know that the real growth of muscular tissue happens post the breakdown of fibers. It is post the breakdown and with proper nourishment that one gains musculature. Not too different from that is the science behind our personal growth. The breakdowns in our lives are there for a reason. It is the nourishment post the breakdown that lets you grow. And yet, we wallop in our misery and find a weird joy in remaining miserable, instead of nourishing the mind to recoup.

Another cripple that we run by, that snatches the struggle from us is the ease of procurement. We constantly seek templates for work, we seek precedents to do any task assigned to us. We find so many shortcuts to do a task that we forget or do not even learn the way to do the task normally. And in the process, we achieve a fleeting success. The kind that leaves you unsatisfied. Louis Binstock said this in a way that makes more sense “Too often the shortcut, the line of least resistance, is responsible for evanescent and unsatisfactory success.” Enough said.

Being present is hard. Being in the moment and committing every ounce of energy and drive to what you are doing at this moment is not easy to do. But it is the struggle to achieve this that drives people to greatness. Superior athletes that compete on similar grounds do not lose because they prepare any less, or that they are slower, weaker than their counterparts who win by a whisker. After the line of ability has been crossed, it is the state of 'now' that makes winners. Mihaly Cziksentmihalyi spoke about the concept of 'flow' through his research. A state of mind when the body is on autopilot and yet performs better than the mind can will it to perform. In flow, the emotions are not just contained and channeled, but positive, energized, and aligned with the task at hand. We have all felt such moments of 'flow' in our lives. The struggle is to be able to turn this flow on and off as we will it.

The learning, if any, from the struggle we see around us is quite simple. We see it in the people we meet everyday. From the most common man you meet each day to the extraordinary humans that chance upon our lives every once in a while, they are all in a state of struggle. It is in our nature to be. The lesson is not the struggle itself, but the stage of comfort one gets into from taking on the struggle. Change is tough, and unfavorable change is tougher. Getting to a state when you can 'roll with the punches' and yet win the fight is a struggle. It is what we all aspire to reach. At least it should be.

 

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