My apologies, people, for not having visited your blogs and not writing here as well for this long. I was away at my grandparents' place and lived without the internet for 10 days. Yes, I do sound like a complete addict, but I believe that it was an achievement. Anyway, without further ado, here's a post, and I promise juicier posts lined up for this weekend or a little later:
We all have our personal bars and standards. We live by them, and go to incredible lengths to see to it that they aren't violated. Some of it is a personal preference. Some of it --- we just want to test the limits. We test not just us, but everyone around us. To be accepted at a position of authority in our lives, we need these people to pass these watermarks. Those who exceed these become our heroes, and those who do not: they can never make it to a position of reverence.
I remember the time when I went to this neighbour who claimed he could help me with my maths problems. I had produced 3 problems as 'difficult' problems... claiming that I couldn't solve them. In reality, one of them was a tricky one: it had been solved in class and I knew that it was difficult. This neighbourhood 'uncle' got stumped at this one... and although he could solve one of the other two problems, he never really reached that position of reverence for me --- he remained just the "neighbourhood uncle" who can do some math.
We all do this, don't we, in some form or the other? And the desire to prove oneself also rouses us from slumber when the object of special attention is near. I knew this boy in our colony who used to bowl ferociously when his girlfriend passed beside the cricket ground --- and you could actually see him fume if you hit him to the ropes at those times.
Somehow we tend to seek approval of our own beliefs when we present these challenges to others. All those little romantic games of playing hard-to-get, maybe taunting the guy to do something that you know he wouldn't normally do: it is all a part of the judgement process. Perhaps nature designed us this way: if we have something to give, we want to know for sure that we're investing in the right lot. And if we have something to get, nature ensures that we fight for it to earn it. Don't you remember the twinkle at the corner of the eye of the girl when her classroom crush answers a question correctly which no-one else can get right? Do you miss the coach's grin when his best player is praised by all after the soccer match?
The lesson to take home is that we must be prepared for the challenge. Some like me love challenges --- I like fighting it out: to dive for that ball even on asphalt, or to prove the teacher wrong by scoring a 10/10 on a test (although I suspect he used to do it on purpose). Some others among us are the challenge themselves. Every single time you want to lead, you must do it from the front. You have to prove your credentials: pedigree doesn't count for much on the actual battlefield --- the true hero's character will show through any day. Prove it to your team that you can lead, and that when the time comes you can call a spade a spade. Prove it to yourself, that you practice what you preach. As they say, one ounce of practice is worth twenty tons of big talk.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
The many faces of me
Every place I go to, it seems as if I forge a new identity. Somehow old contacts are forgotten, and the whole identity starts from scratch, from zero. Meeting new people, first impressions, the 'gang', and the whole new cup of socie-tea that I have to gulp down --- they never cease to amuse me. And the best part is, these first impressions go a long way in deciding what the rest of the stay will be like!
When we moved to a new colony, I met a new group of kids. Suddenly my old image of ''good batsman" was gone, and I was relegated to the position of a lackey fielder who was always placed in the ignominious corner of the field. Perhaps it helped me: because I shifted my attention to studies and did well in academics. However, I also lost that prime position in the field: no more opening batsman slots for me! Times changed, and along with them the circle of friends changed, too. When I shifted schools for class 12 and engineering entrance tuitions, everything suddenly shifted into academic mode. I used to see free-body diagrams in everything, and discusses similar things with friends. Consequently, the circle of friends I had there consisted exclusively of people who would think alike. I passed off as the mild-mannered gentleman who never swore, never mind the 'other' life that I lead. During a social gathering, one of my cousins actually asked or rather challenged me to swear aloud, and was really surprised to see that I could do that.
Then came the engineering college, where post ragging and post the unusual company of friends from all over in a hostel, it became difficult not to say a swear word as a placefiller for other words. And I found myself leading the verbal offensive in more than one occasion --- so I got a repute for myself. But then things toned down a lot, and I realized that it was actually not worth swearing when I could express myself otherwise. This, and coupled with the fact with my recent job suddenly brought to me a "good guy" image.
The fun part happens when people I know from different times met each other or had a glance of the other sides of my personalities. Friends from the engineering college are surprised to see a chivalrous me sometimes when I help others. Friends from my high school find it equally intriguing to see me swear aloud. My ex-girlfriend almost fell out of her chair when I talked dirty to her (she confessed she had expected that to never happen: thought she was stuck with a geek). My present room-mates burst out laughing when they met an old friend of mine and heard him describe me as the poster-child of good manners. And through this all, I observe them all like a detached observer, standing amidst all that happens around me, smiling to myself.
I wonder, who am I? Which of these faces is a mask and which is real? When I curse from within but the outside remains calm and serene, is it me? Or is it me when I am shouting obscenities to the black-marketeer at the cinema while I'm ashamed of all I utter inside? Is it me who goes down as the pinch hitter in crunch situations in the field? Or is it me who swears worse than a fishwife when someone manages to drop an easy catch in those situations? People have confessed to me that they haven't been able to figure me out: like the endgame challenge to the art of understanding people. I don't know --- the only person who perhaps knows and understands me is my mother. But I doubt if she knows it all, or will even believe if she sees it. I don't care, because I'm trying to find that out myself.
When we moved to a new colony, I met a new group of kids. Suddenly my old image of ''good batsman" was gone, and I was relegated to the position of a lackey fielder who was always placed in the ignominious corner of the field. Perhaps it helped me: because I shifted my attention to studies and did well in academics. However, I also lost that prime position in the field: no more opening batsman slots for me! Times changed, and along with them the circle of friends changed, too. When I shifted schools for class 12 and engineering entrance tuitions, everything suddenly shifted into academic mode. I used to see free-body diagrams in everything, and discusses similar things with friends. Consequently, the circle of friends I had there consisted exclusively of people who would think alike. I passed off as the mild-mannered gentleman who never swore, never mind the 'other' life that I lead. During a social gathering, one of my cousins actually asked or rather challenged me to swear aloud, and was really surprised to see that I could do that.
Then came the engineering college, where post ragging and post the unusual company of friends from all over in a hostel, it became difficult not to say a swear word as a placefiller for other words. And I found myself leading the verbal offensive in more than one occasion --- so I got a repute for myself. But then things toned down a lot, and I realized that it was actually not worth swearing when I could express myself otherwise. This, and coupled with the fact with my recent job suddenly brought to me a "good guy" image.
The fun part happens when people I know from different times met each other or had a glance of the other sides of my personalities. Friends from the engineering college are surprised to see a chivalrous me sometimes when I help others. Friends from my high school find it equally intriguing to see me swear aloud. My ex-girlfriend almost fell out of her chair when I talked dirty to her (she confessed she had expected that to never happen: thought she was stuck with a geek). My present room-mates burst out laughing when they met an old friend of mine and heard him describe me as the poster-child of good manners. And through this all, I observe them all like a detached observer, standing amidst all that happens around me, smiling to myself.
I wonder, who am I? Which of these faces is a mask and which is real? When I curse from within but the outside remains calm and serene, is it me? Or is it me when I am shouting obscenities to the black-marketeer at the cinema while I'm ashamed of all I utter inside? Is it me who goes down as the pinch hitter in crunch situations in the field? Or is it me who swears worse than a fishwife when someone manages to drop an easy catch in those situations? People have confessed to me that they haven't been able to figure me out: like the endgame challenge to the art of understanding people. I don't know --- the only person who perhaps knows and understands me is my mother. But I doubt if she knows it all, or will even believe if she sees it. I don't care, because I'm trying to find that out myself.
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