Open Sesame

It's so nice to be able to speak freely that it feels like a cheat code in a video game. I grew up like a feral cat, living a lonely existence inside my head. My brother also grew up in the same house, and while we turned out differently in many ways, some of the base tendencies and struggles sound uncannily similar. Particularly the need for acceptance and fear of rejection (borrowing from Wendrick's lexicon).

The Pleiku days were particularly dark, and loneliness forced me into coping mechanisms of my own design, which is something I'm used to, and for the most part incompetent at. Let's just say it wasn't a great success, and resulted in significant collateral damage.

Like any other muscle memory, it's hard to open up and speak after a lifetime of silence. There are a few people who really help me open up. You know who you are, thank you. There was one person back in the day that I could speak freely with like no other. We used to call it the feeling of being naked in front of each other. There was a feeling of freedom from judgement and manipulation. Everything spoken was straight from the heart, and honest, with no expectations or outcomes in mind. Unfortunately, this was part of the collateral damage, and one that I feel most remorse for.

In this world I would be considered a very social guy, and I feel confident in my ability to blend into any social situation. The anti-social-anxiety type. However, it's merely a front, like an Import-Export company in a gangster movie. I use it to hide deep insecurities and loneliness. Maybe a fear of abandonment also helped me hone some social skills.

The mind is a sensory organ. It's merely a tool to perceive the world. The individual is a distinct from the mind, and for so long I had been a slave to the mind. Recently I've been able to detach the mind and look at it as a separate entity, and not react or be enslaved by its moods and swings. I can sense the mood coming from afar now. It doesn't mean I'm the Buddha, at least not yet. It's a start, and feels great.

farmers in a classroom

2 July 2010, Central Highlands, Vietnam

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i am in a classroom full of farmers, young and old... some dressed up for the occasion, some straight out of bed... all listening to Sunny, who is our agronomist and the most jobless person in my company (not an easy title the way we work)... he conducts 2-3 surveys a year and generally goes around drinking beer with our people in different places all year long... he's suitably fat and looks like the bad guy who turns into a snake in conan the barbarian.

 Sunny is in the local community hall, facing the farmers, who are the most intent listeners i've ever seen inside a class room. like they're reliving the excitement of going to school after years of toil in their coffee fields. the room is dusty and damp even before the rains... the soft 8 am sunlight makes everything look beautiful... the audience starts murmuring and Sunny gets the projector projecting and the audience is enamoured by his desktop... a few more mins to go... Sunny plays tom and jerry to entertain his students-to-be... all eyes are fixed on tom as he chases jerry... something falls on tom, flattening him, filling the classroom with laughter... but why are we all here? why would my company give a fuck about farmers if we can't make a little something out of it?

it all started with the coffee-drinkers in rich countries feeling bad for the poor vietnamese farmers sitting in front of Sunny today. they said, this is blood coffee! grown with no regard to society or environment or the children of the farmers and workers... how do i know my coffee is not stained by sweat from a child who ought to be in school? or a worker who doesn't get decent working conditions? so here came UTZ which said i'll certify all the good coffee... so if you see my name UTZ on the cover of the coffee you, since its so distinctively meaningless, you know it has to be good... you can pay up a little extra, drink in peace and sleep with the pride of having done your bit for humanity. go have a party now... feel good about yourself, please.

so on a ton of coffee worth $1700 today, the farmer stands to get $10 extra if he does all the right things prescribed by UTZ. let's put that in perspective now... the average farmer who has 1 hectare - or 3 tons of coffee, stands to gain $30 - that is Rs. 1500 in extra income for the entire year... in return for sending his kids to school, and ensuring the kids of his workers too... and adhering to environmental issues like soil erosion and deforestation... essentially things that he'd be hard-pressed to give a fuck.

enter capitalism... the $10 is not guaranteed. if the economy slips the coffee companies will see fewer consumers paying up to feel good, hence they will buy less of UTZ and the farmers have to watch the mood and pockets of the rich consumers... then comes the middlemen... the actual premium is way higher than $10, but what will the world come to if not for middlemen? so for the trouble of waking up early and educating farmers and proving the goodness of the coffee using documents which cannot be verified, i get a little cut... and so does the little agent in the village... and so do the Nestles... after we've all eaten our cuts, we also put it in our brochures and annual reports so our investors can also feel good about themselves.

for me, the beauty lies in the inability to verify any of this. who knows about kids in faraway lands and their trips to school? or the conditions in remote farms and big factories... aren't we smart enough to know that $10 is too little to expect a farmer to change. how come free-market brains switch off here? don't we know that we're doing all this only for the money and nothing else. so if a little fudging can happen, why would we do otherwise?

moving back inside the class room after cigarettes and coffee in a plastic cover, i sit in the front row... Sunny is one third into his 3 hour monologue. he shows pictures of coffee and fertilizers and gives free knowledge on the right amount to be used... on how soil need N, P and K... from NPK fertilizers... the slides are full of color, and all bright... one for each line... a phone is ringing loudly... one farmers picks the call and speaks even louder... a few farmers light cigarettes while the monologue continues... the room is filled with the smell of smoke and Sunny's voice.

my head is spinning with all the vietnamese falling into my ears and flashing into my eyes... i wish i were in school where i could sleep... its not fun being the tall guy with big eyes, sitting in the first row. i try my best to understand what he's saying... like a detective knitting together stray clues.

Sunny is nearing the end of his talk... where he has a slide titled 'World 2070', which contains his views on the future of humanity... he shows pictures of famine and floods, drought and wild storms, starvation, death and suffering... the audience is suitably shocked and Sunny is happy... because it gives him the necessary build-up for his final point in that day's monologue - save the environment or else!

the farmers are called one by one to sign on papers confirming their participation in today's session... free-market fanatics might prefer to ignore my accountant chicks distributing $3 (Rs 140) to each farmer for having devoted their mornings to our pockets.

class over - the middlemen shift to a local restaurant for lunch with rice wine and beer... the village head repeats the same lengthy speech as he raises a toast 5 times.. everyone is drunk... he asks me if i go massa... i say yes, of course... he asks how many times i've been to massa...  i ask him how many times he's downed beer in his life... he says he can't remember... i pause for effect and feel like birbal while people laugh appreciatively at my wit and move on to getting drunk and erasing the day from our collective memory.

The Beef-eater

"What do you think of beef and caste Hindus?" she asks.

"Caste Hindus are conditioned into hating beef so that intermingling with beef-eating castes becomes difficult. For caste society to reform, there should be no concept of purity or impurity in society over food. I accept that caste Hindus of today are already conditioned and hard-wired to not eat beef. I don't care if they eat or don't eat, but they throw around cringing faces and sounds of tsk tsk when I eat beef on the same table. It's my culture and my source of nourishment, and they have no right to disrespect it."

He then visits Vietnam where he encounters throbbing hearts of cobras, half-formed chicken fetuses, fermented baby shrimp paste, rats, frogs and more. He cringes a few times, and sticks to chicken and beef. You might be surprised to learn that the fermented baby shrimp paste was the hardest to sit thru, because he could decline to eat, but he had to breathe.

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If Heisenberg had to choose between position and momentum in the context of our evolution as people, he should choose momentum. Where one begins is an accident, and insignificant compared to how much one can evolve.

The Independent

"What are your thoughts on the Burqa?" he asks.

"It's regressive patriarchal conditioning applied at a young age, used by men to control the minds and bodies of women, as if they were property. We need to educate young girls that they own and control their bodies, that no one else can tell them what to do with it."

She then goes to bathe, picking out a lace bra for her tiny breasts. She walks out smelling of shampoo and soap, and sits in front of the mirror. Make-up is limited to Essentials. Concealers, masks, lighteners, darkeners and enhancers result in Flawless Skin. Waxed limbs glow in a varnished finish, and clanky pieces of metal dangle from different body parts, rounding off the look of the Independent Woman.

Lightness of Being

It has been three months of replaying my whole life - starting from the first memory:

In the mid 80s, there was a school near my house which accepted any kid whose parents paid the fees. When I was just short of two years, I was dragged to that school against my will, and they left me there despite my protests. I remember sitting in that class among kids double my size (one boy even wore suspenders) and I remember the feeling of being abandoned, and thinking that I have to fend for myself. That was my first memory in life.

Fast forward to two days back: I'm sitting on the Madras house terrace, trying to make sense of life, and doing it alone. I enjoy being alone with my head compared to the labour of talking to someone lacking in intelligence or empathy. I like speaking to close friends, but some things are too dark - so dark that I can barely begin to converse with my own head.

Two days back, something clicked. I was able to coax my mind into facing suppressed memories. Once the memories were out of the closet, and I could stare at them without fear, it took the brain a few minutes to piece together 35 years of life. Within moments I was jumping up and down in joy, unable to believe what just happened. I threw my hands up, and screamed Yaaay! 

I couldn't believe the lightness I've felt since - like fluffy seeds which float around in the wind. It was a moment of truth: I could now enjoy the lightness of being alive without the cobwebs of memory shackling the mind from evolving forward.

In case you're wondering what the hell did I learn, I won't disappoint you entirely. Life came down to three things: Guilt, Shame and Fear.

What helped me is this: We have limited time in this world. What is the point in carrying these feelings into Death? Won't life be better if we shared our feelings truthfully with those we love, or for a start, with oneself? Imagine all of us going to our graves with our little Truths hidden deep inside, and no one will ever know, including - and most importantly - ourselves.

I have all these thoughts in my head and I don't quite know what to do with them just yet. Like Abhimanyu and the Chakravyuha, I've entered my mind and opened the cupboard without thinking of the way forward. I figured that so long as the way out exists, I'll find it.

I am reminded of the letter that Andy writes to Red in Shawshank Redemption's closing sequence - "Dear Red, if you're reading this, you've gotten out. And if you've come this far, maybe you're willing to come a little further."

I am Andy, and my mind is Red.

Karma

What goes around, comes around.

Yet, there is no correlation in reality.

It's not about this life, it's from the previous, and onto the next. Do good because then good things will come to you.

Imaginary data points aside, you do good because it's the right thing to do. Not because you expect good in return.

A voyueristic cat

Reducing Life

October 2015

A magical time in life. My longest solo ride then, to Kumaon. A step back from Google maps and fixed plans. Ride till sunset, ask around for a place to stay.

A cop stops my bike, and gets on without permission. "There is a guy running away, chase him!" I don't know who I'm chasing or where this is heading, but I ride along, full throttle. A brief experience of absolute right of way on the road, cop with gun sitting pillion. After some time we find a guy, who lacks the urgency of a fugitive. He is caught, amidst no drama. I don't understand anything, but it doesn't matter, I ride on.

The rivers have wide sandy beaches and closer to Rishikesh there are countless campsites - it feels like any good thing remains good only until everyone finds out about it. So one way to live life is to look at choices that others don't want to make. Like physical inconvenience is a great tool to keep crowds away. This has inspired Spiti in winter, Rajasthan in summer, Western Ghats during monsoon and places that you can reach only by foot.

Back to the ride, a few times kids going back home from school jump on, as do some adults. Outside big towns in the hills, for the most part there is only one road, and people are much more free to ask for help and to offer help here.

The end of the day is the best time and I don't want to stop. I can ride for as long as I please and sync with the sun, rather than distance. It's like the difference between timing food with hunger as opposed to eating based on fixed timings.

Prayag mean confluence, and everywhere I turn there is a town named Prayag on this route. For all our worship of the Himalayas and the great rivers birthed there, the sight of so much concrete damming dry river beds is ugly. What is a river without flowing water?

The sun sets as I approach Karnaprayag, I stop and say hello to an elderly man. What's a good place? He points me to a hotel - Sri Krishna. I enter and I see Rajinikanth's photograph with the guy behind the counter. The room is not too dirty. One avoids close inspection of the sheets, and fatigue takes over.

From here the places remain anonymous. Any place which attracts too much attention gets spoiled, so here I'm doing my bit.

The ride goes on, past dusty roads under construction, across invasive forests of pine planted 200 years back for turpentine. Two days later, I arrive at the base for the trek - a 100 year old house. One guide (Tillu), one porter (Babloo), and me start out.

As we start the climb up, we stumble upon a snake - a baby Russell's viper. My first ever Russell's sighting, a snake that stretches from sea level to over 2,000 meters.

At the end of the first afternoon my legs are crying for rest. We climb down to fetch water from a known water source. It's dry. Tillu and Babloo venture further down, while I return to the tents and wait. We had just missed some nomadic shepherds and mutton at 2500 meters. We are left with a carpet of goat shit to admire, and of course it's utterly joyous to be so high up and have the world open out in front.

The next day we climb further up, and only Rhododendron is left now, as we approach the alpine meadow above 3,000 meters. We reach early afternoon, and I'm going mad with happiness - running, jumping and rolling around. Just happy to be alive at that moment. 

Life is reduced to food, water, tent and company. There is nothing else the mind craves, and there is absolute contentment with life as we settle around the fire to watch the stars. Shooting stars zoom past, galaxies glitter away, and we are taking it all in. I'm thinking this particular scene would've been there since humans first appeared, and this visceral joy for nature is a common thread that has endured.

The night is freezing, and the Tillu and Babloo silently regret their choice to bring tarpaulin for an open tent. They light a fire at 3 AM, and it melts the icicles on the roof and we have rain inside the tent. I hear sounds of chatter, and I just lay there, waiting for sunrise.

The following morning we climb further up to see sunrise at 3,500 meters, above the clouds. I catch myself looking at it thru my phone screen, and I feel stupid. I put the phone down and enjoy the rest of it.

Why do people wish to capture every moment for posterity? I find it particularly amusing when people hold up their phones to record a concert, sporting event, or Niagra falls - things which are constantly covered by professionals. Why can't we see a picture on Google or a video on Youtube? What's the joy in capturing things which have been captured to death by people with far more competence?

The climb down was quick, and my legs were happy for a break. A day later I was riding back, and my mind was filled with joy. As I ride towards Dehradun, I see a building that reminds me of my Indore campus. Turns out, it's an IIM, and I'm in Kashipur. The hostel and classrooms fall on either side of the main highway and I keep asking understand how?

Towards the end my clutch cable snaps, and I push the bike for a while and find a mechanic. It's dark and I'm tired. The stretch as I approach home is like the last chapter in a book being written.

A week later we would ride to Spiti, at the beginning of winter.

The most important variable in life is human company. Joy and Gopal would've loved it. How fortunate though that we found each other with time in our hands back in the day.

Power and it's concentration

Whenever there is an opportunity to corner power, most people do it, and like with capital, people with power are in an advantageous position to corner more power.

In the last 100 years - a speck in the human timeline - many democracies arose to overthrow monarchy, even as some retained our fetish for princes and princesses thru irrational ceremonial excesses. With Democracy came the promise of elected representatives of the people by the people and for the people - even if it took some time for everyone to be recognised as 'people'.

Elsewhere communists overthrew monarchy, and noticeably absent here was a fetish for royalty. Here was an even greater promise of peasant power, and representation of labour's interests.

The checks and balances envisoned in parliamentary electoral democracy gave way to modern day monarchs leading political parties in democracy. They are worshipped and assume powers and accolades like Kings in the years past. Likewise, Communism led to concentration of power within the Communist Party, and led to leaders who enjoyed even more power than the Kings they overthrew.

Likewise with religion. Even the ones which branched off from a dominant religion, with the purpose of reform in society, have become cults of their own.

Most of these ideologies, religions and ways of life were made with good intentions. Unfortunately, power is a vice like no other, it blows humanity's will to smithereens.

When we imagine social relations thru culture, tradition, law and so on, we must then account for this tendency for concentration of power.

Look at some common forms of social relations: country, religion, race, caste, nationality, political party, capital, fame, cinema, sports, music etc. In every social context people have attempted and succeeded in cornering power, and to use this power to concentrate even more power, on loop.

All good things in life operate within a band. Even Food, Water and Oxygen operate in a band. Too much and too little are both deadly. Trees don't grow endlessly tall and reach the moon. There are disadvantages to size - to oneself in natural design, and to others in human design.

In natural design, if humans grow too big, our bodies struggle with coordination and balance. If trees grow too tall, they bear the brunt of the wind during storms. So in nature, things grow as big as necessary, no more and no less, within a band.

In human design of nations, religions, companies, cinema and political parties, there are no limits to how much one can grow. There are no instinctive forces of resistance, like fear of wind or a weak spine, to limit how big one of these can grow.

As humans, the more power we have, the more challenged is our ability to resist megalomania. This is not so much an individual's mistake, as it is a natural outcome of nature's design. Humans are designed with good and bad tendencies - the reason why most people are not dominant is because they are not in a position to be so. 

It's a question of opportunity. So when we imagine society, we must think of this opportunity to dominate all around us, and how, in society's conscience, we can grow an instinct to resist this concentration of power.

Ashtanga yoga

Four months back my neighbour, who is a long time practitioner of Ashtanga yoga, opened classes upstairs in her home. I joined, and experienced a rare healthy addiction. It's so cool that I can climb 20 feet and I'm there in class. The practice is a fixed series of asanas, choreographed with breath. The Primary Series is misleading nomenclature. For the first few weeks we only did Surya Namaskaram and slowly added poses, one by one. After four months, I've reached half way thru the Primary Series. I do well with core strength and flexibility, and struggle with poses that require strength, especially in the legs.

It's the same series every day, and the whole maniacal repetitive nature of the practice appeals to my obsessive nature. Any activity performed with awareness is meditative. With the first pose of Surya Namaskaram every morning at 7, the balls of my breath have begun to roll on a rhythm and count for the next one hour, in sync with physical movement. I have almost no awareness of anything happening outside of that mat during that time. It's a complete mental break from life.

The asanas are challenging, and often out of range and modified versions are used. It's challenging so that the mind and body have something to grapple with and not be bored. The idea is to be aware of each body part, muscle and tissue, along with the breath, and observe oneself thru this practice. In that sense it's a very private, solitary pursuit - every day you get to know how your body feels, much like other important daily indicators of well-being - appetite, sleep and morning shit. Some days are better than others, and we accept it as it is, and enjoy the awareness.