Wednesday 24 August 2011

The Stranger I knew



One of the things i'd liked in the movie 'Dhobhi ghat' was the part where Aamir Khan reconstructs the story of the girl. I found myself doing something similar, albeit under not such mysterious circumstances as the movie and, i hope, with realizations not as profound.

The cubicle that gives me company daily was earlier occupied by a lady (whose name i don't wish to disclose and hence i'll pseudo-name her Sahiba) who left the organisation before i joined.
My tryst with unraveling her began when one day, after almost a month since i'd joined, i was informed about how Sahiba had been the previous occupant of my cubicle and what role she had been in. And how, in a way, most people in the office were Almost immediately, there arose in me a curious urge to know about her - what she did/thought/said; i saw her as a jigsaw which i had to put together. Btw, i've always been big on Jigsaws. The bigger the boundary with smaller the pieces, the more it draws me towards it.

So like a sniffer dog on the prowl, i'd keep antennae up for any sort of clue which would unravel the new mystery of my life. With hints strewn across space and time, i managed a rough sketch too.
Then yesterday, i was given the keys to the drawers in my cubicle. Quite nonchalantly i turned the key, expecting to see mostly empty space with unwanted remnants left behind. The first drawer revealed, well almost that only, except this cubical black box sleeping in the corner. I lifted the lid and found small paraphernalia peering back at me - a broken key ring, old erasers, pins, snubbed pencils, a small booklet with quotes on 'sisters', sachets of low cal sugar, numerous visiting cards, sticky notes scribbled into furiously, and more.

I explored it gingerly, like i was afraid that i might spoil it. I moved through the full set of drawers, excited. And touched. Sahiba had left behind things which told me her story. Things about her which, i dare to assume, no one in the office would be aware of or would have noticed. Her belongings told me more about her than any human knowing could tell me there. Contrary to what i'd thought, it seemed as if Sahiba had left in a hurry and hadn't really sorted or touched most of these things. I sat in the middle with everything stacked around me neatly in categories defined by me. They exuded a feeling, a language which can't be understood through words. Suddenly, i felt that i knew her as much as i would have wanted to and the intensity to finish the portrait evaporated. I quietly put most of the things in a box and had it taken away by a staff guy. A part of me didn't want to, like i was dislocating something of its rightful place. But old must make way for the new.

What all i saw and what i gauged from it, i don't feel like disclosing that. Let's keep it sacrosanct. I've kept some of the things, for remembrance or usage or both. It's also my way to keep a part of her intact in that space. I have a feeling, totally irrational and baseless but acute, that she didn't mean to leave. She didn't intend nor was inclined to. I hope i could tell her that she never left...

The song for tonight is "Crack the shutters open" by Snow Patrol which, weirdly, endears to me mostly because it talks about cold winter hands on a warm body. I love that sensation. :)



Monday 22 August 2011

Eternal sunshine leaves a Spotless mind :)




A few days ago I got a bit wet in one of the perennially unexpected showers that Bangalore is endowed with. Starting to shiver a bit, I got on to a bus, which was a First for me in this city. Not a good start to attempt a First surely. My language handicap coupled with my haggard state slowed me down which in turn turned up the conductor’s temper. With a shiver that was starting to spread speedily now, I managed a ticket which would get me somewhere familiar. My eyes darted for a seat and zeroed in on two targets: one was a fragile, middle aged lady holding a ‘1by2 kaafee’ (typically, Bangaloreans are found enjoying their coffee in tiny glasses, hence the name 1by2) and the other was a young girl, iPod pumping through her head and a blank face staring into nothingness. I found myself sitting down next to the old lady. Typically I would have chosen the young lady holding the promise of knowing a language that I could converse in. Suddenly, two words flashed across my mind and I believe I found an interesting explanation for what I’d just done. The words were – “Attribute Substitution”.

More than a couple of months back, I’d stumbled across this concept and since then would consciously try to see if it actually worked like it did on paper. It refers to a phenomenon whereby we judge something seemingly more complex (target attribute) on the basis of our understanding of something  comparatively easier (heuristic attribute); meaning that we take a simple judgement, like noting a warm or cold day, and apply it to a larger, more complex one, like whether the planet is headed for global meltdown.
“This substitution is thought of as taking place in the automatic intuitive judgment system rather than the more self-aware reflective system.” Extending this funda to our day-to-day situations throws up interesting inferences. Multitude tests were conducted in this regard which included: a stranger holding a cup of hot coffee when compared to one holding iced coffee, yielded more positive responses from people when asked to rate the person. Reminds us of our own 1by2 lady, eh?
A more scientific explanation for this intriguing occurrence is through this part of our brain called Insula which acts like a cross over between the outside world and our experience with it. So sensations like disgust at a gory scene or craving for a chocolate can be blamed on this. It’s also your social guide wherein it hints us when to feel guilty or joyful or embarrassed. Now this tiny, peach shaped entity holds the key to some of our unconscious behavior - warmer the temperature, greater the level of trust exercised. Sunnier days amplify trading of riskier stocks. Waiters’ pockets are heavier when it’s warmer. Think about yourself and recall your moods on sunless winter days. I tend to hear a lot more cribbing, overcast thoughts rule the skies, and in general merry making slips. If you Wiki it, you’d get to know many other such examples, each with its own sense of intrigue. For the lazier ones out of you, here’s the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attribute_substitution
This is yet another display of how much our unconscious governs our lives and how at times, we are mere puppets of our own selves. It explains why and how our biases and prejudices grow within us and take root, without us even knowing. Why the picture of our minds bears unwanted blotches. This also goes to to display how our physical manifestation, our bodies are connected to that which we can't see, our unconscious. I could go on and on about this, but keeping certain readers in mind (especially you, Alan Sama), I’ll cut it here and leave you with a song by Paul Simon and Art Garfunkle, "Dust in the wind". Uncoil... :)

Saturday 20 August 2011

Slingshot-ed



My nerves screamed to be let loose. My muscles strained with the effort being made to stop them from moving in a certain direction. My head spun in circles while my eyes were whirring so fast that i had ghost eyes (read: plain white eyes). No no, i wasn't paralyzed. I was just fighting the overpowering urge to get back to this blog. The verdict, is for all to see. And endure.

To cut the drama and get to the board, much water has flowed under the bridge since i last scraped something here. My ground has disappeared from beneath my feet, my each breath has taken on a different meaning. I would like to believe that the scrapped knee and creased forehead will enable me to push my frontier. Life has been tasted like never before.

I'd like to break down this whirlwind period into the major chunks and then share it in detail. But for that, i need fresh space. And you, my dear torturee, some respite. Yet one bit that i would want to put forth right now, would be the unprecedented and revival-like effect that a movie had on me - Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. To quote from the movie itself, it gave me BPL (Bum Pe Laat) and sent me soaring. Znmd was the slingshot, while i was the happily hapless entity being flung forth with such zeal that i was surprised at myself. I would probably put up a whole entry on just that. So this will be it for tonight ( i can't be so hard on you on day 1, can i?). I'll wrap it up with two of the poems from the flick just mentioned. The second one is like my daily prayer now, because it reminds me what i'd like to be doing with my life. Tuck in tight and be thankful for all the goodness that surrounds you. :)

"Jab jab dard ka baadal chaya
Jab ghum ka saya lehraya
Jab aansoo palkon tak aya
Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraya
Humne dil ko yeh samjhaya
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai
Duniya mein yunhi hota hai
Yeh jo gehre sannate hain
Waqt ne sabko hi baante hain
Thoda ghum hai sabka qissa
Thodi dhoop hai sabka hissa
Aankh teri bekaar hi nam hai
Har pal ek naya mausam hai
Kyun tu aise pal khota hai
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai"




"Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyaan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Nazar mein khwaabon ki bijliyaan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Hawaa ke jhonkon ke jaise azad rehna seekho
Tum ek dariya ke jaise lehron mein behna seekho
Har ek lamhe se tum milo khole apni baahein
Har ek pal ik naya samaan dekhein yeh nigaahein
Jo apni aankhon mein hairaaniyaan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyaan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum..."