The tussle between Indians, instructions and instincts

Indians and Instructions don't get along quite well! I observed this while I was in Belfast for six weeks. Our fellow hostel-mates followed instructions of any kind quite judiciously: Microwave cooking instructions, gadget instructions, and all the others (not the late-night ones, of course but we followed that well).

On the other hand, we (three Indians) who were absolutely unaccustomed to reading and following instructions found this a bit amusing. They thought the same about us!!! Now, why we don't follow instructions are because it leaves us confused and stifled. For a change, we thought we will also follow the tiny-lettered lines and to our utter dismay, we would stop after the second one. First, it was mundane and boring. Two, simple things through formal writing make it convoluted.

We best trust our instincts. I just about know if the vegetables are cooked or the food is heated. I don't have to rely on the clock to wait for the two minutes to get over so that I can switch off the gravy. I cannot do that.

Another flip side to the timer usage is that I keep checking the clock every now and then and the process leaves me so bugged that I switch-off my mind. I focus on something else and in the whole thing, forget the dish that is cooking! Phew!!

Well, now this instinct works for cooking but not for fixing gadgets. People of other nationalities (I think) are adept in that. Indians (well, mostly) are slower in that area. The first-time reading is out of curiosity and as the second instruction comes by we say, "Oh! I know this" only to later realise that we got stuck. Then we again read the instructions. And we don't understand or simply lack the patience.

Well, Indians, Instructions and Instincts! Quite a package, isn't it. Okay, now your turn. Do you religiously follow instructions while doing something for the first time? Do you like following them?

When I started this blog, there were simple instructions . . . which I could understand and well, follow!

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Branded for life

Mithila. Madhubani painting on hand-made paper

It is about to rain and the signs loom large: dark clouds pregnant with water, dragon-flies flying closer to the ground and gentle breeze which carries a faint smell of the earth. But you know that there are clothes which are out in the terrace for drying and it so happens that only you remember that. Off you scoot to the terrace and collect the clothes and just as you are taking the clothes-peg off the last bit of semi-dried underwear, it starts raining. Sigh. You are happy that you were able to get the clothes intact otherwise hours of laborious washing will be rendered useless. Everyone is happy. And there is a smile like a jubilant war-hero on my face. 

That was a week ago.

It so happens that today is also another such day. Read the first three lines of the first paragraph. Almost by reflex, every pair of eyes starts to look at me. No!! Not again. Okay, it is just fine and off I scoot again. But no, it happens all the time. I am branded to be the runner to get the clothes every time clouds threaten. And I know this happens in many houses.

If a person does something one time, then it so happens that for that particular work, everyone expect the same person to do it all the time. Every time, I tell myself: You are the best for the job! Come on, be a sport but I do get stifled at times.

But I do have an inspiration: My mother. I often wonder how she manages to cook and cook and cook. She makes the breakfast, lunch and dinner and for how many years. Of course, now and then we do help her but that is nothing compared to the selfless service she does without any grudge. How many times I have taken that for granted. Well, she is branded as a life-long cook! Then I wonder, just imagine how many times she would have felt bored to go into that kitchen and start the process. She loves to cook and feed but still that is not an excuse for me.

Being branded is not bad after all. What say dear readers. I am glad it is sunny today!

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And my toothbrush gently thinks . . .

Whenever I take my toothbrush in the morning or night, a train of thoughts encompasses my mind. It almost seems as if my mind is waiting for the comfort of the bathroom and the instrument called toothbrush. The whole process of brushing lasts for about a minute or at the most a minute and a half, but even in that, the mind never stands still.

In the morning, it is planning for the day and at night, it is planning for the next day. Sometimes I consciously try to stop myself and concentrate only on the brushing, as the Zen masters advise. I succeed for two days and then actually forget that I had planned to concentrate. 

Every act has to have its own intrinsic worth but it never happens that way. Guilty as I feel, sometimes even while praying, I catch my thoughts trying to sneak into my thesis or such. I don't much like it that way. I would like to give each act the concentration and self-worth it requires. But alas, the human mind has other plans!!

Now as I write this post, I think that I have to brush and complete the editing for the day. You know it is marvellous to see how the mind can think on two tracks or even more but it steals the joy that belongs to each act.

Well, today as I brush, I would like to be loyal to the brush, toothpaste and teeth. I shall try not to betray the act of brushing my teeth, and cheat that time with my thesis.

Stay focused. Do you have a problem like me. Maybe . . .
Ah, nothing is impossible, you know.

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Dropping names and playing wise

In the room the women come and go,
Talking of Michelangelo.

The lines above talk about something that is very prominent in today's people (as it was then as well). I am not making a sweeping generalisation here but still. It has become quite fashionable to drop names in the course of conversations. Somehow I am assuming that the fad of dropping names came about during Renaissance when there were new discoveries and inventions made. The age of enlightenment, as it was popularly known brought about many delightful new thoughts and ideas. Now as many artists and scientists grew in prominence, there also arose a new breed of people: Name-dropping philistines!

Now there are specific names that are ought to be dropped in relevant contexts. If Philosophy, it has to be Kant, Nietzsche, Sartre, etc; if Literature then Shakespeare, Tolstoy and the like; if Cinema, then Godard, Kurosawa, Fellini, Bergman, etc.

But the best part of name-dropping is that one need not know in detail about the people whose names are dropped. If one knows the very famous line, "God is dead," and adds Nietzsche to it, the role is well-played. Similarly if one knows a quote or two from Shakespeare, then it makes for a lively exchange. It is only the name-dropper who knows that the quoted line was the only one (s) he knows from that person.

I find many students who love to drop names be it in arts, literature, philosophy or music. I cannot blame them but it is the world around which respects people who show their knowledge of names. In today's scenario, knowledge and information is suckling heavily at the udders of Wikipedia and passing those as one's own. Shallow knowledge and surface information, though make a good first impression cannot hold for long. But instant recognition and admiration leads people to try dropping names to impress and provide a halo of pseudo intelligence.

Well, the message is loud and clear: BE DISCERNING and TEST the depth of knowledge.

What are your observations on dropping names in conversations.

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An argument that makes me cringe

Some arguments make you smile. Some make you see sense. Some arguments seem pointless. But some make you cringe, not in fear but in irritation and anger.

When you speak about your problem to an individual, pat comes the reply: Just think of people who undergo more sufferings than you. You are much better off.

The above given argument puts me off and saddens me further. First, instead of just listening to what I am presently undergoing, the person decides to provide a comparison. Second, I firmly believe that suffering cannot be measured. Each one has his/her own cup to bear and that cannot be seen with the backdrop of another's pain.

I have come across this kind of argument many times in the span of life I have lived. And the people who bring up this argument belong to various age-groups, social-standing and positions. Why should one's pain always be compared to someone else's?

Now complaining is not similar to pain but many times people confuse the two. There is even a famous proverb which says: "I complained I had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet." Now this saying is not about pain, it is about a state which has no contentment but many use this wise saying when they see a person in pain.

I think all of us experience pain in varying measures and each one has his/her unique way of handling the same. But using X's pain and comforting oneself saying: "X is suffering more than me so my pain is nothing" is a foolish way of looking at pain.

I am sure this argument has been thrown at you while you crossed a difficult path. What do you think of this argument on pain and suffering. What arguments seem pointless to you?

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Paralysis and thoughts of love!

Machiavelli will rejoice and be glad.

This morning when I opened my yahoo page, a news item caught me eye: Love attack causes temporary paralysis in Oregon man

I wasn't sure whether I had read right. I reread the title and the news. I was speechless. Whenever Matt Frerking has loving thoughts, a temporary paralysis affects him. This is a rare malady known as narcolepsy with cataplexy, a rare cousin of the better-known disease that causes sudden sleep attacks. Matt says that he has to watch his thoughts otherwise he will have to suffer. I couldn't fathom anything like that.

Just imagine, one cannot think any loving and tender things for fear of getting paralysed. I wonder whether these conditions existed ten years ago. It is quite strange. My thoughts immediately flew to Dalai Lama, Mother Teresa and the like. How would they take this bit of news. They who propagate love, peace and compassion will be zapped if this news reaches them. Can they stop loving thoughts?

My heart reached out to Matt and wanted to ask a thousand questions. Love makes the world go around but no one thought that it could cause temporary paralysis.

Well, I can only think of the opening lines from Macbeth: "Fair is foul and foul is fair."

If you would like to read the article, you can do so here.