“The Eye of the Beholder”

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!

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

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

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…

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…

The Team Spirit.

Three years to date, I called up my partner at my previous firm. I had decided to take up a new role.

I had been looking for a new challenge for sometime. And when I got something that made sense for me to pursue, I dialled up my manager’s no.

It was a direct conversation. He as well as the senior partner offered me some food for thought but I was clear about the move and it was both personally and professionally making sense for me. So, eventually we agreed amicably about the separation.

However, what I had not thought about was my team and how they would feel. And how I would feel about the fact that I was moving out, after having hired quite a few of them myself and having managed them for a while.

After running with this conflict in my head for a couple of days, I decided to be upfront about it. I called up each person on the team, breaking the news to them and talking about why I was moving on from what we had signed up for together.

Most folks accepted and wished me well. Some were surprised and told me that they would have wanted to continue working together for longer. I am sure, some thanked their stars for good riddance as well!

My heart wasn’t still contented. I had this guilty feeling about leaving those team members in the middle of an unfinished journey. With some of them, I had spent just shy of five years. It troubled me for a few days.

Then, I remembered those times when someone in the team, who I absolutely wanted in, had decided to move on. It was always difficult to let go but I was never one to hold back anyone. It had pinched me but work never stopped.

And I realised that while I was going out of the equation, work that my team was doing won’t stop. That they will continue to excel. I need not be guilty but should go out with the confidence of having done good by them.

With my worries put to rest, I enjoyed those last few days with my colleagues and friends and moved on to a new path. We remain in touch and with quite a few of them, I have maintained a great bonhomie.

Recalling those days and what came of all that time spent together is something I still cherish today and will continue to in the future. We may have moved in different directions but that team spirit lingers on somewhere…

A ‘familiar’ weekend!

It was a busy afternoon. The dining table was full. Different dishes were on it, with plates already served. The entire family was sitting around. There were multiple conversation threads going on.

The lunch had started with a round of appetizers, a couple of new dishes that they were trying today. Aarav, the grandson, had tried a new recipe he had learnt of online. As is often the case, it hadn’t turned out well.

Grandfather quipped, “This is such a waste, we could have used the cheese for something better”. The grandson added, “And of course, would have saved my time and your appetite!”. Everyone grinned.

After a while, as the main course was being served, mom declared, “This chicken dish has turned out to be my best till date. I am thinking of making this again when our cousins come over later this month”.

Dad, rather bemused, offered some advice, “How about we keep this as the recurring one on our menu for every dinner we host?”. Mom looked puzzled until Dad burst out with a laugh.

I am exhausted, this is too much food to enjoy!”, the grandmother chipped in. “Of course, that’s why we don’t have any dessert today, I already predicted it”, pat came his sister’s reply who was responsible for the dessert. They all laughed again.

The lunch went on for over an hour. Everyone laughed, talked, and shared stories and anecdotes from their life.

As they got up from the table and settled down on the couches, they all were brimming with happiness. The banter continued until late evening and ended only when they finally got up to retire for the night. It was one of the best days they had had after a long time.

That day had been the best ever for Aarav. He had forgotten that he could have so much fun at home with his family. Staying alone in the city, engrossed in his work, he had missed this belongingness and harmony in his life.

It wasn’t just because they were all together at one place but also because they could enjoy time together as a family, away from the usual trappings of the modern life. No mobiles, no social media, no television.

As he went to his room, he saw his phone for the first time since noon. His screen time for the day was down to one-tenth of his usual. He felt an unusual happiness in his heart and mind.

What had not been possible to do away with even after trying so much, had been accomplished by being together physically in a single place with his family. He wished for this to recur frequently, as his sleepy eyelids closed to dream of the day’s happy memories.

The Precious Years…

I live in a state of concern and apprehension. Concern about how my parents, who are getting older, age. And apprehension about how I would support them in the years to come.

I was born and brought up in a joint family and stayed away from my parents, by choice, until I was eleven. Not entirely, but for elongated periods of time when my mom joined my dad in his postings. In those days, I never really felt too much when they left me behind.

Then, as I grew up and joined the army, for the first time in my life, I felt the pangs of separation. Perhaps more so because that was the first time I was staying away from my family. But I did miss my parents a lot in those days.

So, when I had to come out, I went over to Delhi, where they were. Even post finishing college and starting work, I continued to visit them quite often. I started enjoying their company and the times we spent together as a family.

Life moved on, I found the love of my life, and got married. We moved to Bangalore for work and my parents made it a point to come over once a year to spend time with us, while we took time out for a couple of weeks to go spend with them. It made me habitual to they being around to share life’s important moments.

Then, with our daughter’s birth, the relationship further evolved and they started spending more time with us, weeks together. As they settled in their new rhythms of post-retirement life and having a grandchild, it gave our relationship a new perspective. I suddenly grew up in their eyes.

Over the last few years, our relationship has further blossomed more than I imagined. We enjoy spending time together, going on vacations, enjoying as a family. Or being at home and watching a movie together or playing games. At ease with the time we get together, knowing it is only a few weeks.

While they pass on more wisdom to me every time, I too have come to respect them more and more for what they did as parents. It’s not easy being one.

But it’s also a realisation on my part that whatever time I get to spend with them now and as long as I can, is most precious. Almost like the younger days of our daughter were, when she was growing up every single day. Not discounting the time I have spent with them earlier or what I spend with my daughter now, but speaking relatively.

So, when they decided to come over for a couple of months to stay with us, I was so excited. Those two months got over today and they are heading back. As I stood at the airport, waving them the final byes, a lump formed in my throat.

Not because it will be some time before I meet them again and we stay together for a while, but because I wished the time spent with them could have been longer…

On my way back from the airport, I found solace in the fact that I was able to spend so much time with them. And do so many things while they were with us.

The words of a recent chat with a friend echoed in my mind – “Past a certain age, every moment is in itself precious. We just have to learn to enjoy our time with our parents to the maximum!”

The “Me” Question

How would you describe yourself to someone?

This isn’t a self cantered question that I am asking of myself. It is a deeper reflection on how we come across as an individual to others.

We start in the unbridled, unhindered category. We are ecstatic to begin communicating while growing up and use any and every opportunity to make ourselves felt.

Right from our young age, we strive to talk and share. And we do so without any filters, without worrying about how we come across, and what’s our audience. It also helps that most folks we talk to in that age are close family and friends, not someone we want to hide from.

Then, as we start growing up, we realise that there are times when hiding our true feelings or being vague is beneficial for us. We do it a few times. Still, we are our authentic selves.

We pride being with like minded people, having friends who care for us, and a family that dotes on us. This all gives us confidence to continue speaking true and right.

However, this touch gets lost as our adulthood advances. We become more and more careful about what we want to reveal or hide. We use facades where necessary, whether professionally or personally.

And this removes us from the reality quite a bit. It also doesn’t help that most people we are surrounded by are acquaintances who we don’t know well or don’t trust enough.

We remain the same authentic self in front of our childhood friends or family but those are only a few days or moments. The heavy tilt towards our alter egos takes a toll on us. We begin to push the envelope on what’s real vs what’s made up about ourselves even with those who we know well.

Soon, the only difference that remains between the true self and the alter ego is what we retain in our heart. And that too contracts as time passes by.

By then our children are growing up and keenly observing us. We would have had the opportunity to pass on a more authentic outlook to them but we are too far down the road to do that now.

They too observe and learn how to not be authentic when it’s to one’s liking or advantage. Just like we did from our parents when we were teenagers. And the cycle repeats…

What if we decided to be true to ourselves and leave our facades behind? How would that change our and our children’s future choices and outcomes?

Maybe the fork in the road is now. Better late than never…

I am however, still grappling with this question even though the benefits are quite clear!

“Coloured”

Deep was sitting at the sea shore, not believing himself. His group of friends had just fought between themselves and dispersed.

They had all been friends through middle and high school. Most of them for the entire time, except for Kavya.

Kavya had joined them in ninth grade and had soon become thick with most. He had an easy charm and was very good with words.

While Deep had welcomed Kavya in the group, he never got too close with him. Kavya tried a couple of times but Deep didn’t feel comfortable when he started raising points around skin colours, religion, social status etc. So, he had kept his distance.

Others weren’t so bothered. They knew Kavya came from a wealthy family and regularly lent his newest toys and gadgets to his friends. They all wanted to partake in that feast.

At first, it all seemed harmless. The gang was just having fun, and with Kavya’s generous attitude, they could do many more things.

But then, one day Kavya denied Romil his new headphones. He jokingly told him, “you cannot speak English fluently, how will you listen to my English song collection”. Others let it pass, not really bothering about correcting the bias.

Another time, he openly made fun of Karthik for his skin colour and religious beliefs in front of a couple of other group members. Again, everyone kept quiet. No one wanted to upset Kavya.

This behaviour continued but neither Deep, nor anyone else had the gumption or the sense to counter Kavya. Soon, it became the norm.

Kavya had once imitated Deep too and that had not gone down well with Deep. When he confronted Kavya, others in the group asked him to calm down and not take it seriously.

But as time progressed, the fissures within the group grew. Those who had been singled out, including Deep, felt wronged. And that feeling was not just for Kavya, but for others in the group too who had sided with him.

Deep had felt a sense of frustration in himself about his group of friends. He still continued to hang around with them because he considered them well.

But Kavya’s behaviour had rubbed off on others. Anand had reduced his interaction with Arif due to his religion. Jose had suffered bias at the hands of Bijoy due to his caste. Even Deep had felt unease about Romil’s non-vegetarian preferences. The group was starting to show fissures.

However, today was the worst. Kavya had openly made fun of people and that had led to Deep and Romil launching a tirade against his behaviour. Some others had opposed it even as Kavya threatened them.

Then, unimaginable to anyone, he kicked and punched Romil, who was standing nearby. Deep and Karthik in turn grabbed him and kicked him. Soon, everyone was fighting each other.

After a full ten minutes, some onlookers had separated the boys. The ‘friends’ had cursed each other and left. Only Deep continued to sit there, longing for an explanation about how it had come to this.

Then he recalled how he and the others had tolerated the initial bad behaviour. And how they had been coloured with how that behaviour was acceptable…