Category: Life Ordinary

  • Life…streamers

    Sometime back, I read an extremely interesting post by Chris Messina – how we’re now hit by a plethora of data and information on the real time web, which our brains have not adapted to, and how, in order to process this, we’d require an augmentation of our existing abilities.

    The information overload has been happening for a little while now. Between reading blogs, writing them, microblogging, Facebook and all the shiny little tools that keep coming up, it’s a constant juggling act. I’ve been on Twitter for over a couple of years now. I can see a drastic change in the relationships there already, as compared to the banter of the initial days. New people, new thoughts, old people who’re changing with time, old thoughts recycled.  A simple @ tag connects lives. Meanwhile, its not just relationships and thoughts that change, but also behaviour – the need to share an experience, attention deficit, and so on. These would obviously vary with an individual’s usage of Twitter, facebook etc, but I’m sure there are more like me.

    While I’ve been dimly conscious of the vastness of the Twitterverse, I had a more tangible realisation only after i came across a tool (from an article shared by Shefaly). As I sat watching the pictures streaming across the screen on Twitcaps, I felt I was somehow connected to all of them across the world sharing images – from parties to churches to landscapes to death to raunchy stuff to coffee mugs and so many many other things. There are multiple images being shared every second, and I had an acute realisation of the magnitude of change happening, in terms of connectedness and sharing. The population of the world, the population of your own city, the number of people working in your office/living in the apartment complex- as the numbers come down, the people slowly change from a blurred intangibility to a focused person. But as we get more and more networked, the number of persons who become tangible are increasing, the arguments about their relative importance to self notwithstanding. As Chris says in the article, can human beings cope after a point?

    Sometime earlier this year, I remember writing a post about speciation – the evolution of the human species, and how replacement of body parts and advancement might finally end up in a being that may not match our current concept of human, or even living, like the Cybermen in Dr.Who. In that post, I had also mentioned Homo Evolutis, one of whose characteristics was networked intelligence.

    As the information deluge gathers momentum, there may be those who choose not to be part of it, who are comfortable not being part of this vast stream of consciousness, while there may be others who use their abilities and the augmentation to embrace this. These are obviously two extremes, and its quite possible that humans would figure out a middle path. But I already see this divide happening – some leaving it by choice, some left out by circumstances. The learning curve is becoming so steep that after a few years, it might be difficult or even impossible to catch up. And that’s how I begin to wonder whether we’re rapidly approaching the point when the species will diverge. Maybe not in my lifetime, but within a couple of generations?

    There’s another aspect of all this that I wondered about. With the increasing amount of information and the speed at which we’re forced to process it, will we have time to acquire more perspectives, or continuing that cycle, accumulate more baggage? Will that change the way we behave with people, and the way we live life? Will we become more objective? Or will we become more biased, relying on notions we don’t have time to change, and behaving accordingly?

    As I write this there is a stream of thoughts running in my head – of times, friends and relationships. Poignant moment as I realise the vast yet connected nature of the universe and its inhabitants. In the miniscule amount of my lifetime that I have spent on Twitter, I realise that people and relationships have changed, perhaps irrevocably. The lifestream will be an interesting read for me later, if I do manage it. Meanwhile life flows, faster, faster, until each second and beyond is accounted for, with streamers in between, so that we might remember…just..

    until next time, you’re here..now..reading post #700..thank you 🙂

  • From the corner of his eye

    Dean Koontz

    That Dean Koontz is an amazing writer of supernatural stories is a known fact. What makes this book special is the mix of several themes that work in superb harmony – a psychotic killer, quantum physics and faith. I’ve always wondered about parallel universes and in this book, the author has tried to put a structure to it through the theories of Thomas Vanadium and the abilities of Bartholomew, Angel and Mary.
    Koontz uses Enoch Cain’s obsessed journey to find Bartholomew as a background to highlight the connection between human beings’ lives, a sort of ‘Butterfly effect’ among people’s destinies. Each character is built perfectly with specific roles to play in this journey, and they all fall into place magnificently, like a jigsaw puzzle.
    There is an underlying theme of hope that runs through this book, and Koontz does a great job of balancing it with the pure evil that is Enoch Cain.
    The pace never slackens, and while I like all the author’s works (that I have read so far), this one just went beyond the regular gripping thriller category.

  • Damn.. on the backburner

    It has come to be this way. The pattern. After every break I take, whether its a trip to Kerala, or a vacation to the beaches or the mountains. Its fairly easy to understand, the daily grind leaves very little time to ponder. Spend 5 days looking forward to the weekend, and maximise the two days for all its worth. Which is perhaps why the trips away from the routine premises have a way of giving one more perspective. An opening of the mind, so to speak.

    It brings in a few new experiences, it puts old  things in a new light, it gives a more objective view of the daily routine.  It highlights the things that are really important to one. It helps one revisit the tags. Most importantly, it shows glimpses of what could be, it opens up new avenues of thought – of building a revenue model for this life that one can be happy with, to figure out those things that one likes to do and would also get paid for, to wake up in the morning and be inspired about what one is going to achieve that day,  other than doing the bit to ensure the EMI gets paid. Existential angst that can be resolved only by living, instead of existing. 🙂 Not that these thoughts cannot happen on any given any day, its just that the trips offer a more conducive environment for the mind.

    But the pattern. What typically happens is that these lines of thought don’t stay with me for more than a few days. The flights of thought run aground when they meet the daily grind. I always wonder if they are really that far apart in the current state that they don’t even stand a chance of co-existence. Perhaps they are.

    But this time, after I get back from Kerala, I decide that its time to break the pattern and stretch beyond the limits I have set for myself, in thought and deed. I wake up, eager to start the day and make the necessary changes to my life, to go beyond the posturing and figure out the way forward. As I get busy with the morning yoga routine, the mobile rings. I stretch my hand out for it. The neck and the back refuse to shoulder any responsibility for what the mind and the rest of the body seek to achieve. A kind of neck jewelry results, the beige collared worker has arrived. 🙁  But I’ll be back.

    until next time, exercise caution

    PS. Too many introspective posts these days, I had to make a clean break 🙂

  • A flaky post

    Paperweights. The ones with either a dancing girl/couple or a snowman at the centre. Turn it upside down, and the ‘snow flakes’ come floating down. Long trips away from routine make me feel like those flakes. I float for as long as I can, but i can’t defy the gravitational pull, there’s no way but down. All my floating is restricted to the confines of the paper weight, I can only wistfully look outside. When the upside down movement happens, I know that I’m in for a ride. I know it will be wonderful while it lasts, I also know the inevitability of the descent. In the initial moments of the floating, I am able to forget the ending, and enjoy myself, but towards the end, I end up counting the moments left. It is time to land, the journey is over.

    Remember Forrest Gump? Through the movie, there’s a white feather that floats around. A while back, I read somewhere that it represents destiny and luck, which is why it is shown to appear at opportune moments. Its free, unconfined and goes where the breeze takes it. Sometimes it gets stuck on to things, and then a gust of wind helps it resume its journey. Does it keep track of its journey, or does it just enjoy the ride?

    I read a piece by Fred Wilson recently, which talked about failure, and making mistakes, and learning from them. It led me to thinking about the words and their connotations. Both the words signify an end result that didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to. It made me realise that these days I have to figure out destinations before i start. And I’m not talking about trips or vacations, its about daily life. There are expectations set – about how the week should go, how the work should be, how the weekend should be, how the movie should be, what i should write, how it should turn out, and so on. The expectations are about people too. When it doesn’t happen the way I want it, there is a disappointment.  This might sound obvious, but I don’t know how conscious each of us are about our dependency on the plans we make, the expectations from life and what we do, our version of ‘what should be’.

    And as this happens day after day, the habit and the conditioning gets stronger, till we don’t even pause to think where this is all leading to. I realise that the more the conditioning is allowed to settle, the more the pattern for the journeys will be set, and the more it will limit the journeys that can be had. So its not even about work or entertainment or even a way of life, it is about the way the mind has begun to function, the thought processes, the walls and the defense mechanisms that  increasingly seem to have a will of their own. Somewhere along the line, there’s also the concept of ‘hope’. Hoping for a better day, a better way of life, all within the structure that I have brought into being.

    What if I let go? One of Forrest’s lines go “I don’t know if we each have a destiny, or if we’re all just floatin’ around accidental-like on a breeze. But I, I think maybe it’s both.”

    Destiny, these days, raises a paradox for me. I could say “That is my destiny”, and work on something and perhaps achieve it. Success gives satisfaction and then I move on to the next objective. So its a bit like the destinations and the traps there. Or I could say “I’ll float and let destiny take its course”. But if I did that, can I be sure where I land and what I will be is my destiny? The best destiny possible for me. Heh? Ah there, control again. In either case, it seems a retrofit. Can i un-expect, not ‘control expectations’, just un-expect? Is that getting closer to objectivity?

    It is written. The post has to end. Did you expect it to end this way? Did I disappoint? 🙂

    until next time, nishkama karma points 🙂

  • You and me

    The hurried breakfast, the hours in front of the computer,  the lunch at office, the work that’s done  to make a living, the dinner in front of the television, the mindless programming that occupies. I have many ways of escaping from you. On weekends, there are books to read up, movies to see, the shopping that has to be done, with or without discounts, the afternoon naps, the endless mall visits, the catching up with friends over cups of coffee, the dine outs, the posts to be written, the lifestream style to be maintained. I have a life to live, you know?

    Oh there are ways and ways of avoiding you. Even if you do confront me – those moments when you catch me off guard, I pretend not to know you. Until at some point in time, I won’t have to pretend. I really won’t know you, I won’t remember you existed. Maybe I never knew you.You were too difficult to understand. When I looked into your eyes, I was not looking in the mirror, I was looking at a different person.

    Maybe if we had met when we were younger, we would have realised we were the same person. But I never looked in the mirror then. There were others who decided for me. When I started looking in the mirror, I saw what I had been made to do, I rebelled. I didn’t realise that I was trading one set for another. You weren’t important enough. I was, and I was busy creating an image of myself. You were not.You were just you.

    Even now, I know you’re still there, you are what is, devoid of memories, or rather, the baggage of memories, while I frantically look around for what I should be. I am afraid, terribly afraid that I’ve lost you forever. I cannot try to reach you, I cannot even say that one day I will be you. I am you, or I am not. It takes a moment. I realise there is no middle path. I make my theories, I lean on my faith, I say that in another world I am better off, anything to be not you. For we both know that you will step out of the mirror, only if I cease to exist. I acknowledge you, but this is a fight for survival, of all the things that have made me, me. I fervently hope that I lose. I write this, so that I never forget. That in the mirror, it’s not me, its you. And we’re different. As different as the same person can be.

    until next time, the  battles within

    PS. The thought continued from last week, also found some kindred thoughts  (thanks to The Time Traveler’s Wife)

    Love After Love

    Derek Walcott

    The time will come
    when, with elation
    you will greet yourself arriving
    at your own door, in your own mirror
    and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

    and say, sit here. Eat.
    You will love again the stranger who was your self.
    Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
    to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

    all your life, whom you ignored
    for another, who knows you by heart.
    Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

    the photographs, the desperate notes,
    peel your own image from the mirror.
    Sit. Feast on your life.