Category: Life Ordinary

  • A bridge across time

    As I sat in the cafe, I occasionally turned around to watch the Metro construction. Vehicles and pedestrians jostled for space on the ever declining width of MG Road. Just before I got into the cafe, I was part of the crowd – most of which was cursing the mess that the construction was creating, not just then, but in many people’s daily routines, thanks to the regular traffic blocks and detours required.

    Detours. I had had a conversation with a friend a couple of days back on how, if I had the perspectives I had now, 5 years back, I might have done things differently then. I might have re-prioritised – things that I wanted to do, goals I set for myself, person I wanted to be,and so on. I said that blessed are those who can turn back, take a look and say that they wouldn’t have done things differently. I honestly can’t. Specific regrets I may not have, but a different set of perspectives, I wouldn’t have minded.

    The friend maintains that whatever path one takes, it would be impossible not to have some regret or the other. I can’t say I disagree. But i do maintain that it is possible to minimise. Does that mean that I am not happy now? Of course I am. But to paraphrase the tee that I keep mentioning says, it ain’t about the destination, its about the journey. The possibility of regret minimisation comes from a belief that if you are doing what you are meant to do, then everything else would fall into place. A faith.

    Faith. The book that I finished later that day had a theme that mixed faith, quantum physics and parallel universes. It had people with different levels of abilities regarding the different universes. One could sense it, one could travel through it, observing, without being able to alter anything, one could transfer objects through it without knowing where they went, and finally one who could travel through it and control it far better than all the above. It talks about every day being a momentous day when we make choices, which creates ripples across other people’s lives (like a butterfly effect on human destinies). It talks about destiny giving you a chance to set it right again. It takes the analogy of an oak tree for a human life. Too many right choices and you’ll have a trunk with a few branches, risks never taken, adventures never had, a life less lived. Too many wrong choices and you’ll have a gnarled tree, fruits never enjoyed, an existence too scarred, a life too consumed to be enjoyed.

    We would like a balance. The friend has made peace with the self on this matter. I need to work on it a bit more, and ensure that I don’t read this post years a few years later and say Oops, I did it again.

    Maybe years later, a new generation would thank the decision maker for the metro. Or perhaps they would curse it for being built for a lesser capacity than it should have been. Time, and context, that would form the perspective. Perhaps its too much to wish for the perspective and the destination before the time has been traveled through, step by step, baggage by baggage.

    until next time, step up πŸ™‚

  • Imago

    That I worship Bill Watterson and simply adore Calvin & Hobbes is not a secret. In fact, it mostly irritates people when i quote from that unique mix of humour/sarcasm/wit and profundity. But no, this is not a gushing post. A few days back, when a friend was talking about her kids, I told her to be thankful that they weren’t like Calvin. She said one of them does have imaginary friends. I am not sure about kids these days, but I simply cannot remember any imaginary friends I might have had in my childhood. To be very fair to everyone concerned, I am quite befuddled even when it comes to recognising real friends of that era and erm, a few eras later too.

    But I wonder about the character of these childhood imaginary friends, and why they exist. Is it loneliness? Considering the minimal baggage that we have at that young age, are they confidants of doubts and thoughts that we think we can’t share with others, even if they are of the same age? Calvin has his club, theories about society and education, ‘scientific experiments’ etc which he shared with Hobbes. Is it because he felt that he would be laughed at, if he shared them with others?Β  Hobbes usually attempts to give him a more mature perspective on all the stuff he discusses. I’d like to ask the kids with imaginary friends about the conversations. πŸ™‚

    Maybe, as we grow up, our baggage grows and as we conform to the norms around us, we figure out that imaginary friends have to go? Or it is perhaps a need that gets filled or forgotten about amongst other priorities, as we acquire new real people – friends, relatives or any other relationships along the way, and maybe figure out that we can share different things with different people, and not have to reveal ourselves totally to everyone? And that takes away the reason for having an imaginary friend to whom we confide all?

    Real people bring their own baggage, they perhaps shield us a bit, and tell us things that we want to hear. They perhaps validate our beliefs and thoughts and inferences, either because they don’t want to be the people who deliver the bad news or they don’t care enough. Of course, I am not taking away anything from the good friends that we manage to get, if we are lucky enough – the conscience keepers. But they’re human too, and their objectivity would waver, they’d have their biases. Perhaps, we should build an imaginary friend all over again, our own objective self, one which can show our own prejudices without fear of retribution.

    until next time, object of my imaginary attention πŸ™‚

  • I feel funny?

    [I wrote this post quite a while back, but the trigger to post is Cyn’s recent post of a similar nature]

    Those of you who read my other blog – brants, know the site by now. When I announced it on twitter at that point of time, Twilight Fairy‘s immediate response was “mubarakein! so finally you use ur real name in the virtual world πŸ˜› :)” I told her, that the real name already existed in the virtual world – Facebook, LinkedIn, but I had an inkling of what she meant, because I felt a twinge when I took ‘brants’ out of the manuscrypts domain. Though I did not dwell on it, it was a defining moment for me in its own way. I did dwell on whether I should write this post, and you now know the result.

    I checked the names on my blogroll and was reassured to find a few handles that are just that – handles, not names. Maybe we’re from a different generation of bloggers. Ones who blogged for reasons that were utterly different from the reasons now. That’s generalising, yes, but there was something then about virtuality that offered a haven from reality.Β  Some have moved on, some have clung on, and some have just drifted on, like me.

    As a handle, ‘manuscrypts’ has been in existence for more than half a dozen years now. Long before the blog, there were chatrooms. Then came the blog, and while it was a personal one, over a period of time, the persona slowly overshadowed the personality, my picture does not exist on the blogs, the M symbol does. Actually, I think its a bit more complicated. A part of me is vastly different from my overt personality. The blog became an ideal location for thisΒ  rarely revealed (only when I’m very comfortable with people)Β  personality to manifest itself. So its more than just a handle. It was a world in itself.

    This was the only place the persona had, and I realise that I’ve been trying to shield ‘manuscrypts’, but I got carried away. Let me explain. Its to do with what Ideasmith calls the personality of a blog. Thanks to the shielding, the blog has come to dictate what kind of posts appear here – the kind of humour, the kind of seriousness, its all getting stereotyped? Conformity within non conformity. But manuscrypts wasn’t supposed to be constrained. Where once I wrote stuff even if it sounded fun only to myself, these days, I think before I post. I wonder if the jokes sound stale, I wonder if the puns are too subtle. I wonder if I’m being funny enough. I obsess. I’m guarded. I measure.Β  I even wonder if i play to the gallery, yes, both of you. πŸ™‚ And I’m not sure I like that.

    Meanwhile, six years is a long time, the world and the real personality have been at work too.Β  In the real world, weΒ  now build personal brands online. πŸ™‚ We don’t have to, but it helps. That partly explains the reason that I shifted the ‘work’ content to a different domain altogether. It was a significant step – a giving in to reality.Β  The real and the virtual moving towards each other. And while I could have kept the two domains thoroughly apart,Β  without the person connecting them, I didn’t see a point. Both are facets of my personality.

    And while that was happening, a life has also been evolving. New interests, old interests rekindled, new people, new experiences, new avenues to be explored, all of it to be done in reality. Many times, a post has come up here only thanks to self discipline. For something like blogging, i don’t know if that’s a good thing. There is a power struggle between my own evolution and the expectations I have set for myself on this blog. I think that is pretty dumb and pompous for a little blog. There, i make it all easy for you – you just have to agree. πŸ™‚

    So I saw it coming, actually even before I wrote this. But sometimes, something becomes so much of a focal point, that you stop thinking about it objectively. For me, it was the blog/s. But these days, I wonder if you have as much fun here as you used to earlier. And I have to confess, it does make me feel inadequate, helpless, and strangely, old. Not old enough to quit blogging, but old enough to wonder whether churning out 5 posts a week (both domains included) was the best way, for everyone concerned. And that’s not including the microblogging. (self hosted, so you can comment)

    So erm, that was what all this was about. To tell you in the only rambling fashion I know, that I am going to reduce the frequency here,Β  maybe once a week, so that I free up a little more time for myself, to do things that I don’t want to postpone and regret later, to figure out things for myself, to let myself roam a bit, to see if i can reach a state which the persona and the person will be happy about, all without having to worry if the blog will be updated.

    And for those kind people have been reading manuscrypts from the time he was only a little handle, heΒ  still lives, at least for now, and thinks there’s no page like home. πŸ™‚

    until next time, handling it πŸ™‚

  • Issued in Public Interest

    He was told not to misbehave. He mumbled that he understood the momentous nature of the event. She replied that his behaviour in public was still a matter of concern. He figured this conversation was bound to happen when one was traveling by bus for the first time after six years of life in Bangalore.

    until next time, riders πŸ™‚

  • Characteristics

    There are nearly seven billion people on this planet. Each one unique, different. What are the chances of that? And why? Is it simply biology, physiology that determines this diversity? A collection of thoughts, memories, experiences that carve out our own special place? Or is it something more than this? Perhaps there’s a master plan that drives the randomness of creation, something unknowable that dwells in the soul, and presents each one of us with a unique set of challenges, that will help us discover who we really are.

    We are all connected, joined together by an invisible thread, infinite in its potential and fragile in its design. Yet while connected, we are also merely individuals, empty vessels to be filled with infinite possibilities, an assortment of thoughts, beliefs, a collection of disjointed memories and experiences… Can I be me without these? Can you be you?

    And if this invisible thread that holds us together were to sever, to cease, what then? What would become of billions of lone, disconnected souls? Therein lies the great quest of our lives, to find, to connect, to hold on. For when our hearts are pure, and our thoughts in line, we are all truly one, capable of repairing our fragile world, and creating a universe of infinite possibilities.

    Thus spake Mohinder Suresh in”An Invisible Thread”, the season finale of ‘Heroes’.

    And as if on cue, a large number of conversations and experiences popped up as conversations inside my head. Yes, those nice voices in the head. πŸ™‚

    I remembered the conversations that Mo and i keep having on the subject of identity, purpose, character and other stuff that she completely gets. Okay i get too, but muddled up. πŸ™‚ I remembered how, when I was reading Archer’s ‘Sons of Fortune’..again, I suddenly figured out why he is my favourite author. In addition to that amazing gift of story telling he has got, its his characters, and their character. Good or bad, they seem to have a moral code. They are noble – noble heroes and noble villains. (remember that word, shall come back to it in a while) Even when they come in contact with their character’s grey areas, they have a rationale they can apply to the situation. They make you aspire for such clarity in thought and deed, in being true to themselves and their character.

    Meanwhile, I see around me, a lot of young people eager to emulate – even things that I hoped would question and better. And as i keep a watch on that, I sense that they do it to belong, at any cost. They are willing to take their lessons from second hand accounts – not accounts of mistakes, which could be argued as a good thing, but enriching experiences that would shape their character. Of course, not every young person I know is like that. I also come across quite a few who have more character and maturity than many people double their age. But I do see more of the first kind. It is a different kind of conforming than what i was have seen earlier – aΒ  need to fit into their peer group’s collective terms.

    On twitter and Facebook and all the services which connect us, I see this set, and more coming in every day to add to their number. And in this collective consciousness, I glimpse the desperation in the need to belong at any cost – evenΒ  at the cost of a character that is still being formed. A shared identity and a strong character, can it co exist? I wonder, if in this age of possibilities, they will be satisfied with this belonging, I also hope that they will not wake up, one day, years later and rue this conformity that they created for themselves.

    And then, I remember what a smart young lady from that age group once told me “Manu, this is so archaic. Only you could use the word ‘noble’ in conversation”. So, I wonder whether there is something in this connectedness that I don’t understand, whether the ‘plan’ requires all kinds of characters – with or without a strong character, to maintain the balance,Β  or whether the kind of disconnectedness that I’m feeling now is one that characterises that thing we all do – ageing. πŸ™‚

    until next time, time for adages?