Sunday Posts

The rational human being exists somewhere inbetween the matrimonial advertisers flaunting their caste and income and property, and the pathetic spectacle of Brock Turner, a swimmer and a student of an elite university, caught raping an unconcious woman. Being human is thus defined by our capacity to love, to fall in love as well as being loved, and to love well: Completely, committedly and unequivocally, transcending both our animal urges and middle class meekness, outside both the socially mandated and instinctively compulsive. Being able to love is not about pleasure, but about creating happiness. It is not about possession, but about giving away. If you deeply love something, give it away - a wise man once said - and touche! being able to love is to able to give, to surrender oneself for the happiness of the other. I remember my first moment of feeling in love. It was indeed a moment, specific and memorable. To be sure, it was a dream, etched in memory, permanently and not...

I am not the kind of person who keeps track of all the special days, except the birthdays I must remember and do something about (or else face serious consequences). The only other kind of days I care about are bank holidays. So, the various UN mandated special days is indeed beyond my cognitive capacity. Add to that various media and special interest defined 'days', and I am sure there are more than 365 of these, and I bet this would go to anyone's mental capacity except those very special people who keep their special diaries which note every such days and who can tell you exactly which day they first had ice-cream. So, I conveniently depend on them, now that there is facebook and a reminder is always handy, to flag up special days, and then generally ignore them. Friendship Day could have been one such day, but the intensity and enthusiasm on Facebook caught up with me. Yes, this was to be expected - Facebook is one giant 'friending' system and if nothing, i...

I lost a friend. The theme of this year for me is - death. I lost four people I knew closely in 19 days. This includes my brother, my longstanding political mentor and finally, PRC, as he was popularly known, an ex-colleague, ex-friend (we drifted apart) but most importantly, the person who changed my life. Without PRC, I would possibly be a company man today, warming some pointless chair in a name-heavy organization in one of the Indian cities. I would live the life scripted for me - built around the cycles of job, mortgage and pensions. I shall possibly be happier, submerged in the ignorance about the possibilities of life. I lived that script once upon a time, but can't any longer imagine what it would be like to go back. In a way, he helped me to free myself, forever. I was always a dreamer. But in 1998, I had a good job. Things were going well for me. I was married, got a decent raise, a promotion was around the corner; my mentor and boss was very supportive, and she was layin...