Of Conscious Mistakes

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It was a Wednesday. The lecture before lunch. With a rumbling stomach and motivation that I had quite frankly exhausted on Monday itself, I oscillated between indifference and exasperation.
The only upside to sitting in class was that time had stopped (I kid you not – apparently even time looses motivation to move forward on Wednesdays) and I was beginning to finally comprehend Einstein’s theory of relativity. It’s a different matter that as an MBA student the theories I had to be appreciating were of a different sort but never mind that.
Somewhere between my fantasies of food and sleep, passive hearing transitioned to listening. I caught the professor offering an anecdote that took my fancy. Perhaps my brain decided to latch onto this nugget of wisdom because it had nothing to do with the subject. Oh by the way, meet Brain – Brain is immune to information of any practical importance – Brain lives in a universe conjectured to amuse itself. In other words, if I were stuck in a burning building… it’s my reflexes I’d count on to get me out of there, not Brain.
“If you’re going to make mistakes, at least make conscious ones”,said the prof. I liked the sound of that. Mistakes, I have made plenty. And a sundry assortment of them at that – conscious, unconscious, whatever. Sadly there are only so many mistakes I can attribute to my butter fingers and cheesy toes. Plethora of bruises to remind that I have a long way to go before I master the art of coordinating my limbs.
If I stretch my imagination and get a little crafty, I can share the blame of at least some of these mistakes on other poor unassuming souls. Okay, so if I decide to drive to the nearest grocery store instead of using my excellent motor skills to walk, it’s fair to say that Karl Benz is to share some of the blame for my poor decision. Going about inventing cars without factoring in the lazy ones like me. Reckless. Absolutely reckless.
But even after all the disingenuous justifications, I am left with a set of mistakes that are mine. Actually no. Sadly, they aren’t mine at all. The compulsive, unconscious ones that choose you instead of the other way around. The only mistakes you ever live to regret but in all honesty are the ones you have no control over. Primal, visceral and impulsive. The kind that gets the heart pumping while the head decides to vacation? If you haven’t already caught the drift, I was referring to caffeine. When my heart took to it like moth to a flame, what say did poor Brain have.
But who knows? Maybe someday Brain will decide to step in and envelope a couple of my unconscious mistakes into it’s conscious realm. Goddamn thing consumes a fifth of all I eat, high time I see the fruits of all it’s free loading. So until then prof… matters of the heart, vagaries of the mood, and of course, fluctuations in body temperature are unconscious mistakes that we’ll just have to make peace with.

Gnomes and Centaurs over Rainbows.

Dear Readers,

Conventional wisdom will tell you to fight for what you want and until recently I believed it quite fervently as well. This Saturday, I felt like challenging conventional wisdom. I guess it’s becoming something of a habit. Honestly, if you really have to fight for something, it probably doesn’t have a place in your life anyway. Here’s a rule of thumb -unless what you’re fighting for is the last trace of Nutella with your sibling, it probably isn’t worth fighting for.

I guess it’s only fair to explain the context for my new-found attitude. I recently turned 25 and while I am cognizant of the fact that no one’s going to come knocking at my door for pearls of wisdom, I still believe that 25 brought with it an insight or two. For lack of a better word, turning 25 was *bleh*. I woke up with a throbbing headache from the night before. My body was clearly sending me signals that it’s done putting up with whiskey and vodka in one night. It was 7 in the morning and my first instinct was to clean my room. Yes, that’s right – clean my room. If you ever find yourself wondering when you became so ancient… I assure you it’s the day when you voluntarily wake up to clean your room. After tidying up my humble abode, I was struck by a series of consecutive adulting attacks. Two hours later, with my laundry done and room presentable enough, I started to show the first signs of normalcy and started getting excited about making plans for the day – plans that did not involve any more cleanliness drives, just fyi. My birthday happened to fall on the day just after and mid-term exams. It was the first time in months that we were able to relax without the overwhelming feeling of guilt. But my friends took their opportunity to relax to new heights xD … with a few of them hibernating well into the afternoon. As the time ticked by, my frustration grew exponentially and my plans withered away to a distant hope. Don’t get me wrong, I have some of the sweetest friends… but friends who love their sleep unconditionally none the less! Anyway… long story short, the day ended alright. We did eventually drag our lazy asses to the city and fill our bellies with sumptuous Japanese food. If you think that was an anti-climactic end to the day please read the part where I started my day with cleaning and laundry-ing, nothing about the day was building up to a climax anyway, ok?

What does this rant about my birthday have to do with my initial premise? Quite a bit actually. It struck me that the only disappointment we ever face is the resistance we put up to all that comes our way. It’s this annoying notion that has been drilled into our head since the inception of time – “fight for what you want”. Most of us squander through life knowing jack shit about what we want anyway.

If you’re fighting for someone to stay, it’s most likely that they’re the puzzle piece you assumed to be as part of the rainbow. Let them go, because I hope your puzzle’s interesting… filled with Gnomes and Centuars and what have you. If you’re fighting to push someone away, they’re likely the piece you fit right at the end – just let them be. They’ll complete the picture eventually. Lastly, if you’re fighting to change the puzzle altogether… please don’t. Gnomes and Centaurs over rainbows, any goddamn day.

Yours – hoping to be a part of at least some of your puzzles,

Panya

Exceptionally Average

Dear Readers,

Fortunately or fortunately for you, Cyclone Bulbul has decided to keep me hostage in my hostel room for the weekend. Why Bulbul, why? Such devious behaviour from an innocuous name. But I guess I have no reason to complain. Blanket? Check. Unlimited access to mind-numbing online content? Check. Coffee within a radius set by my acute laziness? Check. With my most basic needs met, I feel optimistic that my secondary need for food and water will also be met. 😊

Typing the word ‘blanket’ made me feel cosy which for some inexplicable reason triggered an image of being stuck in the middle of something. If you’re thinking of being stuck in the middle, the only natural progression of thought for any rational person is to think of averages. Duh. If you did not follow that line of thought, it’s alright. Just goes to show that you are …. How do I put this nicely??… SANE. Don’t worry, the word ‘average’ did not trigger further unrelated thoughts in my brain. So today I will rant about averages.

It’s one of those words that goes largely unnoticed. Why though? Just because it’s so average? *Excuse my terrible humour but I should probably warn you that it’s not going to get any better as you progress through this article*. Until recently, I too, used to be quite pompous. The amount of time I would worry about being average was underwhelmingly below average. (Ok I couldn’t help myself 😛 ) I guess I always found myself in an environment where doing well did not require much of an effort. Teachers and mentors, who although did not qualify me as a prodigy by a long shot, did lead me to believe that I was well above the pack. Much good that did me! Anyway, fast-forward to my current scenario.. let’s just say that I will never underestimate the word average again.  

Being surrounded by a bunch of bright people in B-school can do wonders to keep your ego in check.. and your grades too :/ It’s unnerving how my grades have shown such an affinity for hovering around the middle in the last couple of months. It’s a torrid love affair that I did not give my blessings to. Continuous persuasions that they can do better fell on deaf ears.  Even if a solid ‘9’ comes their way, they aren’t going to bat an eyelid. Looks like they’ve settled for average *sigh*.

But you know what, I just realized that it’s the average Joes that go down in history! They’re the ones mentioned in every survey that you can get your hands on.. “The average Indian believes…” , “The average student aspires to… “, “On an average…”.. you get the drift. In fact, if you are an over-achiever, your achievements are most likely to be ignored while calculating most metrics. All that hard work just to get your scores branded as “outliers” and dropped off from most calculations? So sad. xP . Oh and another thing.. apart from contributing to society quantitatively, we also do our fair share of qualitative work. One half of the society aspires to be at least average and the other half feels good being above average. Are we awesome or are we awesome?

“Here’s to the crazy normal ones, the misfits averages, the rebels medians, the troublemakers modes, the round pegs in the square round holes… the ones that see things differently exactly the way are – they’re not fond of rules the ones that abide by the rules… it really is a blessing to be in stuck in the middle.” – Yes, I’ve butchered Steve Job’s beautiful ’97 speech..

Yours – forever in the middle,

Panya.

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Intractable Insinuations

Dear Readers,

Gosh! I really flatter myself when i assume that there will be more than one reader for my article. Anyway, it’s 11:39 p.m and am mulling over philosophy. Usually, I allow my mind to trail off into philosophical conjectures only when am driving or in an office meeting. Perfectly acceptable, I know. Well readers, let me tell you one thing, give a person a challenging situation and an internet connection and they will get through at least 5 self-help articles before they come up with their own brew. Their unique philosophy of life that they will probably feel compelled to force upon the world… much like what am putting you guys through *insert smug smile*.

Anyway, if you’ve made it through the first paragraph, let me just tell you what’s been bugging me. Recently, during an ugly spat with a friend, I said nasty things in reaction to nasty things that were said to me. Or were nasty things said to me because I said nasty things first? Hmmm, probably the latter this time around. Readers, perhaps I should give you some more context. Well, it so happens that this was not the first time nastiness was exchanged between said friend and me. Now usually, I take a lot of pride in saying that I am very patient and tolerant of human companionship. On most days anyway! However, with said person I had fallen into a pattern of nasty exchanges. I am not proud of this. But I guess once you form a habit, to come out it, requires you to give more than a damn. And I was invested in this relationship only three-quarters of a damn. Of all the nasty things that were said, there was one snide remark made by “friend” (now acquaintance) that really disturbed me. “You are what you are”. WHAT?! It annoyed me because I realised it was an insult but could not gauge its value on the Richter scale of insults. In any combat, verbal or otherwise, to craft a response one must be able to calibrate the opponents insinuations. I am what I am? An unstable combination of the five elements? Possibly what he meant. A feline-loving, reptile-hating homo sapien? Maybe. A confused 24 year who can’t decide if my skin tone is better suited for a wine red lipstick or a nude-brown shade. Most likely meant this…

I am what I am.. I am what I am.. I am what I am.. it is around this point that I fell asleep while my brain chugged along trying to find a resolution to this statement.. after a few hours of sleep.. I wake up feeling inspired! I’ve figured it out!! What said acquaintance meant.. it was a typo! He meant to say – “You are what you eat.” One part protein, one part carbs, one part fibre, half-part minerals and vitamins and ten parts nutella. Wow… that’s a shady, nasty remark even by the standards to said acquaintance. Well guess what acquaintance (now a blob of matter) you are what you eat too. Equal parts bitter, sour and bland. Humph.

Yours – forever distasteful of open-ended insults,

Panya.