Author: Rishi

States of Mind.

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

Over the last couple of months, I have gone through a gamut of emotions.

At times, I have been elated. Maybe it was a new experience, or it was the feeling of having done something good at work or home. Or sometimes, just the invincible feeling of being in a good place!

And then, just the next day or immediately afterwards, I have felt gloomy and uncertain. Either because of something that occurred, or a worry about how things will turn out for us, or just anxiety about random life-related questions.

A few times, I have even felt frustrated and angry. About how things are turning out or not, or because of certain discussions at work or at home.

As I took some time this weekend to reflect on what’s happening around me, it took me a while to register that my state of mind has been quite haywire over these last couple of months.

I have been troubled, relieved, and happy. All within a short span. I cannot put a finger on why somethings happened the way they did, or why I reacted the way I did.

But as I dug deeper, I realised that I had taken a lot of pressure on myself owing to our move back. I was determined to get things done the right way and didn’t want to leave any stone unturned. In the process, the stress showed on me in these unpredictable manners.

Now that the move is done, and we are settling down, it is of course easier for me to relax a bit. But having lived in a heightened state of existence for a while, it’s not been as easy to switch off.

While I take my time to get back to normalcy, I realise that I shouldn’t have taken things so hard on myself. Maybe, the next time something so life altering is happening, I ought to take it easy. Or perhaps, adopt the same rigorous approach but with the allowance of slip ups.

After all, it’s important to not lose my state of mind in trying to get things done the right way always…

Second chances

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Our brains are small. Our hearts are smaller…

We are not hesitant in calling out mistakes or pointing misses…

We are very reluctant in accepting that we were the one who made one!

This week, while discussing a professional helper, me and my wife were talking about how he had done a good job the first time but his output had not been up to the mark recently. As we talked about it, I realized it wasn’t a great thing to do.

The person was probably having a bad day. Maybe, he had some other problem due to which he didn’t do as good a job as before. Or maybe he did the first one better by mistake.

Whatever the case, I argued, we shouldn’t be passing judgement on his capabilities this quickly. His output the first time deserves a recall again. We agreed to take his service once more and the conversation ended.

As I was thinking about it later that day, I realized this happens with us almost all the time. Whether it is work or home, we tend to categorize and label other folks far too quickly. Or worse, change our opinion quite soon. Without really giving the person benefit of doubt. Without allowing for any off days.

But when it comes to ourselves, we expect one more chance. Always. Even when we have made mistakes after mistakes. Because, we probably still genuinely want to do better. But the person on the other side doesn’t believe so. And we lose our chances sometimes.

The same is true in our public dalliances too. We are very forgiving of our own mistakes or misdemeanors but when it comes to others, expect them to always show up at the top of their game.

What if we became slightly more tolerant of deviations and really looked past the last report or day’s work, to evaluate how the other person had done so far? A good performer does need to be given some bit of an allowance. A second chance.

I think it will do us a world of good. We will stress less about doing everything right but still will generally do the right thing. We will focus more on ensuring positive outcomes consistently rather than worrying about completing the next iteration successfully.

And that will result in not only a happier but a more relaxed life. For all of us. I believe…

Re-Connecting

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Their relationship was broken, at its lowest point.

There was no communication, no exchange of what they were really feeling about each other. Only a facade of maintaining the status quo.

This had continued for a while, and the strain was now showing up. From being able to talk to each other freely, they had rescinded to their own secluded spaces and the ebb and flow of words had reduced to a trickle.

Even those shared interests and memories seemed distant now. Those moments spent together, with a feeling of love and mutual respect, seemed to have happened a long while ago.

Just then, as fate would have it, they were both left stranded in a place with nothing else to do. Just them, without the comfort of social settings, where they could hide behind other people.

It wasn’t planned at all. Happened by mistake. But as they came to terms with the fact that they would have to be alone in this place for a while, feelings started showing up.

The slinging match began quite innocuously. Over a trivial matter. But soon, it descended into a serve and volley game. Both fired salvos at each other, confronting with how they felt the other person had let them down and lost their trust.

As the evening progressed, the antagonism slowly turned into an understanding of why there was a rift. It wasn’t something either of them intentionally laid out or wanted, but lack of communication had only exacerbated it.

Eventually, as they realized that they were holding a lot against each other and started letting go, tears streamed down their eyes. They both realized that it hadn’t helped them at all. The mistrust should have been resolved earlier.

Both resolved to mend things and get back to how it was before. And yet, as they went to bed, each in his own mind was wondering how would things go from here.

Come morning, they had walked past the awkwardness of being just with each other. And slowly, as the day progressed, normalcy started showing promising signs of return.

It was now only a matter of building that trust again. One step at a time.

Perhaps they could have done this earlier. And then wouldn’t have had to live with this feeling for so much time.

Better late than never, though!

Filling the void…

~ Rishi ~ 1 Comment

Raj was sitting on the bench at the hospital. He had just heard the worst news possible.

His mom, aged all of sixty five, was in the last stages of her life, fighting a debilitating disease. She had been diagnosed with brain tumour recently and there was nothing much the doctors could do this late. The tumour had already spread to a large part of her brain.

As he sat, looking at the wall in front of him, and contemplating the future, he heard some commotion.

At the other end of the corridor, an emergency case had just come in. A lady, almost the same age as his mother, had just been rushed in.

She had met with an accident and suffered multiple injuries. A passerby had got her to the hospital and they were going to operate on her.

As he heard news about her condition, he felt a sudden emotion. A lady, his mom’s age, who was absolutely fine, was fighting for her life because of someone else’s mistake. He could relate this to his mom’s condition, who until a month ago had no inkling about her deadly disease.

Over the next few days, as he attended to his mom, he also kept track of the other lady. There was no one who had come forward as her next of kin. It was surprising but quite possible.

He decided in his mind that he would befriend this unnamed and unknown lady, once her condition improves. Not for any other reason but to give her company at this juncture in her life. For she needed it, just as his mom needed his support through this trial.

He told his mom about the entire episode and she was very supportive. After all, she knew that Raj’s heart was in the right place. She was proud of his feelings.

A couple of months passed by. Raj’s mom’s condition was only worsening and the doctors had no hope. They asked her if she wanted to spend the rest of her days at home and she readily agreed. Leaving the unknown lady, still in a coma, behind. But Raj kept checking on her condition frequently.

Then one day, as he came in to his mom’s room, she looked at him for the last time and passed away. Raj knew this was coming but was still overwhelmed. He completed her last rites and bid her adieu.

Once the ceremonies ended, the next day he was again at the hospital. Sitting outside the intensive care unit, where the unknown lady was.

Waiting for her to awaken from her slumber!

Waiting to fill the void that was left in his life…

Back to home

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

This is my last weekend in the US.

As I return back to India to start a new chapter in my life, many thoughts are running through my mind.

The past year and a half allowed us to experience different cultures, different cuisines, and be a part of the first world. It was both good and not so good.

First and foremost, it was a pleasant experience. We had never stayed outside India as a family for long, so we had no understanding or expectations about what we may come across. But the US wasn’t unwelcoming, perhaps because we were in the Bay Area.

But more so because we didn’t feel as out of place as someone coming from the India of 90’s or early 00’s may have. We weren’t in awe of the place or the people and that helped us settle down quickly. And comfortably.

We also enjoyed being on the other side, understanding the motives and inclinations of people we have worked with. It’s one thing to be aware of the other side of the world and completely different to actually appreciate why they think or act the way they do. It definitely made us wiser.

Our daughter studied in a truly multi-national setting with classmates from more than half a dozen countries. It was amazing to see her grasp some of the cultural nuances and feel at home with her own identity.

We got to visit many places across the US and experienced the country in a way which we wouldn’t have as a tourist. It was great travelling to such a diverse set of places and enjoying nature.

If we enjoyed being here, then why are we coming back to India? This is what I think is the difference between the outer and inner lives that we lead now. One that’s visible to the world outside and what we grapple with within.

What I wrote about above were all the things that I liked from the outside perspective. Internally though, I was in conflict.

I love India, not just because it’s where I was born or where I have stayed for forty years of my life. Also because I genuinely feel happy about being there. There’s something about the infectious bonhomie and camaraderie that we are known for!

I realised I needed to be around people I knew and am friends with. While I met many good people in the US, and had a couple of friends and cousins here, it couldn’t compare with the feeling of being amongst known faces.

I also figured that if I want to do something more in life, I will be better served being in India. Because I have the freedom there to experiment and do even offbeat things, which I cannot enjoy in the US with the pressures and travails of life (read constant need to work to earn enough).

Maybe it’s not true for everyone but I thought a lot about it before deciding. And the decision, even when I look back now, seems right.

Lastly, I believe it’s better to be decided in mind than live in a dilemma. I could have easily continued with the conflicted feelings and put up with them. But then, I would have constantly evaluated pros and cons. And whiled away my time thinking what’s the right thing to do.

Is it the right decision? I don’t know for sure. But it feels like.

Perhaps, if I had moved here a bit earlier in life or had given it more time, the decision would have been different. But then, it wouldn’t have been me as you know it…

“The Eye of the Beholder”

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This ain’t no Rocky Balboa inspired post. It is but for sure one inspired by recent travels…

The last week, as we roamed around a couple of national parks in the US Midwest, one point repeatedly came across. What do I, or anyone, perceive what they see or experience?

The answer I landed up with repeatedly was that the beauty of the sight or the richness of the experience lay in the eyes of the beholder.

A couple of instances crossed my mind as those words came through my mouth the second time.

The first was a flashback to when I used to travel a lot in trains. I was fascinated by the countryside and would often stand near the gate or stare out the window, soaking in the beauty. Most people didn’t find it as interesting. But I did.

The second, was when I had to close my startup and get back to working in a regular job. For most, it might seem like a massive failure. Yet, what I experienced and how that built my character is so rich, I cannot even explain in words.

As I thought about and uttered the phrase, it occurred to me that my perception will of course be different than anyone else. And it should be. For that is how we maintain our individuality and our self.

Even then, we don’t value other perceptions enough. We label our understanding better than someone else’s. We call out those who deviate from the norms that we believe in, discounting their originality.

When we fall in this trap, which is almost every time, we land up in a tight spot. One where we no longer absorb new things and where we antagonise others.

Perhaps, sometimes it is warranted. But is it every time?

The good ol’ days!

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We all have those people whom we spent some good days with. Family, friends, colleagues.

Often, when we meet, the conversations turn toward the days we spent together. How it felt and how it continues to give us joy even now.

This weekend, as I spent time with cousins and then a couple of childhood friends, the time together allowed us to feel the vicarious pleasure of living those golden moments again.

There’s something about spending time together. In person, with other human beings…

Just the other day, I was reading and then chatting about loneliness and how we are becoming distant from others. Today, as I settled down to write, this appreciation dawned on me.

That I am someone who needs to be around people I enjoy being with.

That I want to feel the voices and touch the feelings of togetherness across different relationships I have.

That I crave talking to people who I am friends with, even if it is whiling away time in small talk.

That I am much more happier and satisfied with a day well spent in a group rather than a week of being alone.

That I must take out time to do so, as often as I can.

For, there are very few things more enjoyable than sharing moments which you can remember and feel fresh again reminiscing about those good ol’ days later!

The Connection We Have

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AI is the flavour of the season and in Silicon Valley there is a palpable feeling of you being in the wave (riding or not is another matter)!

This weekend I was reading up on what some researchers at Anthropic (one of those heavyweight startups) are up to. They are basically trying to understand neural networks and how they deduce the outcomes that we get.

Then, I read another piece about how there are companies working to figure out different AI agents/models around making humans, sitting in back offices and chatting with you and me to help resolve our queries, redundant.

After reading these articles, I was imagining how these developments will affect the world of writing.

There’s already a lot of debate on how AI generated content is becoming quite common and how it is different from human generated content and which is better.

Naturally, as someone who aspires to write more, it does feel I am choosing the road which will be increasingly less travelled. And yet, not ready to give up the romanticism of my new aspiration, I have tried to keep on writing, working on my craft.

The more I reflected on the articles and what’s about to come, one thing became clearer in my head. In this age of AI, the connection I build with my reader is going to be the key to my satisfaction as a writer.

If I, as a writer, am able to connect at a deeper, emotional level with the reader, I will have done my part well. At least a few of those reading will find my work authentic and connect with it.

And if I am able to keep connecting repeatedly, I should be able to do justice to the time someone invests in reading my stuff.

It’s a precariously tight rope to walk on. If I swing too much, I may trump myself. If I don’t, I risk being stationary and eventually falling down.

The only way is to keep an eye on my goal, take deep breaths and write with my heart…

By the way, just realized while writing this is applicable not just for writing but for pretty much anything we want to excel in in our life!

Being authentic is the way forward then.

New Paths

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Joy was running down the hilly descent with abandon. Down the hill where his best friend, Uday, stayed.

He had just heard of the good news about his selection at one of the top universities in the country. He had devoted the last couple of years toward the goal, and now that it had finally happened, his happiness knew no bounds.

As he reached his friend’s house and caught his breath, he remembered that it was also the day Uday would know about his result too. Just when he was going to ring the bell, his eyes caught a post-it jutting out the adjacent window.

It was written by Uday. He knew Joy would come and had left a note saying he had gone to the temple with his parents before seeing his result. Knowing that he could still catch up, Joy made his way downtown.

When he reached the temple street, he could see Uday in front of the gate. Along with his parents, he was just getting out. They now headed across to a cyber cafe, where Uday was going to check his results.

Joy waited with anticipation. He didn’t want to go now and interrupt Uday or add to his anxiety. He also wasn’t sure how he would handle the situation given his own result. So, he chose to wait for a few more minutes. As he waited, he prayed for Uday’s success.

After a while, Uday came out beaming. Joy knew he had made it. He called out Uday’s name and kept running. Uday turned, saw him, and welcomed him into his arms.

They both celebrated like crazy and everyone in the vicinity only wished them well. They were the best of buddies and would now be entering the altar of life on their chosen paths.

As the euphoria lessened, both Joy and Uday realized that there paths are no longer the same now. It was a strange sadness, in a happy moment.

They sat together in the temple campus, reliving their childhood and the time spent together. Specially the last couple of years when they had been a source of strength to each other in the trying times.

They had chosen their divulging paths themselves but that didn’t mean that it was the end of their friendship. Resolving to continue their friendship they prayed together for success and went home.

Going to bed, Joy had stars in his eyes and dreamt of the future. How he would go through the university years. And in a corner of that dream he came across Uday, with him as a friend forever. He smiled in his sleep…

The Hard Way…

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Sometimes you have things at the back of your mind. And then you read about it somewhere, which brings clarity.

Last couple of weeks, I came across a couple of interviews / opinions. One was of NVidia’s founder and CEO, who’s suddenly become media’s darling with the acute focus on all things AI. Another was an opinion published by Robert Glazer, an investor cum author whose newsletters I like to read.

In his speech at Stanford University, Jansen Huang talks about how he wishes that the graduating students fail more in life and thus learn how to succeed. For as per him, failure is a great virtue and teacher.

Robert in one of his newsletters talked about how with high-touch parenting, we are shielding our children too much. And how that’s not helping them prepare for the real world.

As I watched the speech and then read the old newsletter, I reconnected the two with my own observations about personal and social ways of how I am bringing up our daughter and how I act within groups…

I am protective of our daughter and often worry about where she is, what is she doing, how did she do, and so on. My worry is not chronic and flares up sometimes but more often than not is excessive, if I am being honest. I could do with a little less of it.

It isn’t that something has happened which has compelled me to worry more. She has had a largely incident-free childhood and we have been blessed that she is quite considerate and sensible about most things. Yet, I somehow feel that I am not being a good father if I don’t know enough about these things.

If I contrast it with my childhood, my parents used to make sure they knew about my whereabouts but they let me be. I used to roam around a lot more freely, with a lot more abandon, and faced the forces of nature more than my daughter does today.

Thankfully, nothing bad happened with me. But being on my own at times taught me things that I could carry with me as lessons and apply them when caught in a similar situation later on.

Am not so sure therefore, if I am letting my daughter experience a similar learning curve. Maybe, times have changed. But even if so, my being overprotective won’t help her. It will shield her from experiences which will help her grow up.

So, lesson one – I will let her be and allow her to fall, learn, and grow up.

In the same vein, I realised that I need to sometimes let others around me express themselves more and in the process go through their own journey. I tend to help more than I should at times, striving to save time or to offer my experiences. But in doing that, I am robbing them of experiencing and learning for themselves.

So, lesson two – I will only help where I must and where it is warranted, in most cases I will let the other person discover and gain an experience of their own.

I guess enough lessons for a weekend! And for me to apply…