147 Monday Musings- Cartoons and Caricatures

147 Monday Musings- Cartoons and Caricatures

This might slip into the certitudes of shoulds and musts, but that is the price one pays to write on something that has been written about so much, that one more attempt only draws out sighs and yawns. The Indian parliament erupted in hurt on the issue of an cartoon that got published almost half a century ago being included in the NCERT books, which depicts Nehru pulling up Ambedkar on the delay in the framing and scripting of the constitution. As if the outrage itself was not tragic enough, Kapil Sibal went out and apologized for the inclusion of the cartoon, the two academicians behind the inclusion of the cartoons in the text book resigned and to add insult to injury, a few lumpen elements went ahead and vandalized the office of one of the academicians.

There is enough in this incident why anyone in his right mind will find reasons to be disturbed about. The cartoons in question are half a century old, based quite on facts and the actors concerned themselves never took offence during their lifetimes - and these must be reasons enough why we must ask in exasperation 'what’s the bloody fuss about?

Second where will this end? If we start feeling offended on everything that ever happened, on fears and phobias, complexes and hurts, based on real or imagined events, then I guess we are creating a worldview so downright intolerant, touchy and sensitive, that joyful living will always elude us.

This incident is not a random, isolated event - it’s a part of larger pattern that is being played out with uncanny and scary regularity. Sentiments of all kinds seem to be waiting for being hurt, feel insulted and wronged. Identitities of all kinds are so fragile that only one question can trigger mayhem, only one cartoon can trigger hurt and insult. All scrutiny, academic delayering, discussion on anything related to belief, faith, icons, leaders, are out of bounds. The industry of faith and idol worship seems to run on the fuel of suspended inquiry and meek submissiveness. If we are incapable to question and learn from the past, if we are incapable to scrutinize and analyze our present - then it will be of little surprise that we are also hopelessly incapable of chiseling out a great future. Our faiths are not perfect, neither were our icons and role models, but despite their imperfections they left a legacy. In questioning an analyzing them we are paying them the ultimate homage of engaging with their legacy. It’s better than paying lip service to them or being apathetic to it. We must be comfortable in questioning the holy cows and accepting our past, its people and faiths. Irreverence is not always bad - it’s a sign of a very confident people.

The last thing about this incident that left me with a sour taste is the realization how incapable we as a people have become in laughing at ourselves. Cartoons lighten the day for us; the intent is to take light hearted pot shot at very serious things. As Rufun wainwrith says "There's no life without humor. It can make the wonderful moments of life truly glorious, and it can make tragic moments bearable.” I fail to understand the composition of people who cannot take a good hearted dig at themselves. In failing to see the funny side of life, the banter in inanities, the humor in small mercies, we reveal a lot about ourselves. We might have fought the cartoons, but in the process have reduced ourselves to caricatures of what we can be. Let’s be better than that.

Guru

146 Monday Musings: 10 strangers and 2 snakes

10 strangers and 2 snakes

They were ten of them, mostly corporate wallahs, who were perched at various points of the corporate food chain. The journey was by choice, the meeting by chance, and the companionship purely by discovery. Each one was peculiar in his/her own right, with dissimilar plots, subtexts, nuances, characters, twists and turbulences,bound only by their peculiarities. They came together the way people come together in a long distance train journey, awkward to begin with, getting close to each other meal by meal and conversation by conversation. Sometimes its easy to share with strangers because they are not burdened by common memories, there is no fear of being judged and most importantly there is a comfort that you will not face them often enough.

The eleventh member of this story was its settings - far removed from the din and bustle of civilisation, in the middle of wilderness, surrounded by dry fields and rocky mountains, bereft of human company and its more ubiquitious cousin - mobile signals!! There was a strange stillness in the air, a lack of sound and noise that the average urban ear is so unaccustomed to, broken only the chirp of the bird, and the deafening chant of a thousand grasshoppers together, a sound that can be ear shattering in that stillness. Its like the roar of a mighty riverfall in the middle of nowhere, one second one is councious of the the abyss of stillness, and in the next of the roar of the waterfall.

A thousand ants in the soil everywhere, the company of multi coloured bougenvileas, low hanging mangoes, tall coconut trees, and a distant pond added to the surrealness of the settings. The 10 strangers negotiated with the settings as much as they did with each other. Nights were dark, still and soundless. The stars shone brightly and full moon appeared brighter and bigger in the clear sky. They were almost rediscovering new joys in familiar things like the stars and the moon almost as if they were seing them for the first time.

They were waking up at dawn and going to bed latest by 10. The bodies had much to revolt against - against pure air, against silence, against normal waking hours and against so much purity and serenity around that they had not experienced since the time they left the comforts of the womb. They slept in tents, on the floor and within mosquito nets, used common bathrooms but uncommon facilities. Collective discomfort broke the ice and collective trauma brought them together. And they lived happily thereafter - or so they thought.

A few days of pristine living later they had two guests. A cobra and his cousin from a different family, who both chose the youngest and the only lady amongst them. The next 48 hours were mayhem. If the snakes had a particular agenda in mind, they did not let them know, and if they did let the lady they visited know of it, she did not share it with others. Since no news of the actual conversation was forthcoming, conspiracy theorists had a field day. Some interpreted the significance of snakes, others recoiled in horror about the possibility of snakes diverting attention to them. Every one let the lady and the snakes to thier own means. If the men felt a bit ignored by the snakes and experienced a gender discrimination against them, they did not express, not at least to the snakes. Every event was dissected and had its own impact. One was reminded of the Bog Boss house, where even a small vibration had a tremor like impact.

Much more and ten days later, and with a little help from the snakes, the strangers forged bonds and built friendships, something they had not done for a long long time. That is the beauty of proximity in wilderness - it robs human imagination of all fears and pretences, allowing the person to let be. The strangers have since then returned to civilisation, and i have a feeling that despite the comforts of everyday living and presence of familiar things around, the strangers are missing each other, if not the snakes. I wish them well.

Guru  

Monday Musings 145 - The smile of the Divine

Monday Musings 145 - The smile of the Divine

He was a new age professional. She was the wife he had chosen, as a solemn promise to be there for her in joy and in sorrow. Life would have been nice, had it not been for the games the divine plays, which He seem to revel in and we fail to understand.

The first child was a still born, the second one they lost after 21 months to a complication arising out of infant diabetes gone horribly wrong, while he struggled in a nearby ward with jaundice. So when she expected the third time, it was with trepidation and hope, anxiety and joy, knowing fully well that this was their last time. The Divine played His hand again. She was diagnosed with a rare complication of the heart, not fatal but curable by surgery.

So was surgery possible on her in the given condition? The gynecologist referred to the cardiologist, who said it was dangerous to operate in her condition, because during the surgery they would slow the heart rate, which will mean reduction in the blood level to the fetus, with potential damage possibilities. Off they went to a thoracic cardio surgeon for another opinion, who said, while the condition was certainly tricky, but it was quite possible to do the surgery. As it happens, he explained, that human body is Gods supreme invention and some of the way it behaved was the surest proof that God existed. Under the usual norms, when the body faces blood shortage, as in injury, it rations its blood supply to the various organs, in a manner that the brain and heart gets priority. Even when there is left smallest quantity of blood in the body, it will supply to only these organs - except that there is catch. You see, the body is programmed to behave in the above manner most of the times, except that when there is fetus in the body, it somehow starts rationing the blood in a manner that apart from the brain and the heart, even the fetus gets its share,  till the last supply of blood remains. How does this happen, well- only God can tell? So the thoracic surgeon gave case studies after case studies how it was possible for this surgery to happen, without damaging the fetus. The cardiologist recommended abortion. The choice was difficult. Would he risk her life for the sake of the child, knowing fully well, that this was the last chance? Or would he take a leap of faith amidst divided medical opinion?

What would have he gone through? What would have she gone through? Were they believers, before that and was their faith shaken - did they question their God? How would they decide - on science, on instinct, or on precariously fractured medical opinion, or an equally unreliable faith in the inherent goodness of life emerging out of an inexplicable positivity, which cannot be based on reason, but in the opaqueness of hope that no wrong could happen to me?

I am told they took the leap of faith. The Divine smiled. Their daughter is eight now and he tells her every night, horribly boring and repetitive stories.

144 Monday Musings- Contra thinking

144 Monday Musings-  Contra thinking

They say markets exist because two people look at an event or numbers or facts and have exactly different views. If everyone would agree on everything, there would only be buyers or only sellers, in which case there would be no markets. Two TV commercials on air right now are yet another instance.

After the recently disastrous oversees tours, first in England and then in Australia, the world cup winning Indian cricket team has its scrip at its lowest in the recent times, leading some to question the very notion of invincibility of the team not long ago. Pepsi has come out with a brilliant theme, 'Change the game' where an obvious cricket aficionado in Ranbeer Kapoor is trying to get a soccer loving young kid to switch to cricket - and in the process gets a rebuttal about the hollowness of cricket and the utility of other games, in this case being soccer. Change the game the campaign exhorts the ad, obvious appeal to our seriously jaded, jolted, disappointed and disillusioned Indian cricket fan. On the other hand the aircel telecom ad has MS Dhoni comforting a young child that in the eye of defeat and fall from grace, there is a need to pick up the threads of efforts and begin the climb on the road ahead again. This is what some would call contra thinking. Two marketers have looked at the same event and taken contrarian view.

Managers are asked to take a view on things for a living, and often two of them take contra view. Some take a traditional view, the common one, the popular one, the obvious one - others take a slightly bold view, the uncommon one, the unpopular one and the not so obvious ones. Only time tells which way the cookie crumbles, till that time the fate of managerial success hangs from a thin fibre. The oscillating fortunes makes for dangerous living, but who said managerial life is for the meek. I doubt if there is a clear verdict, if one better than the other conclusively and universally. Managers must have, on one hand, a vast body of traditional wisdom, of what has worked in most circumstances, what one would classify as universally applicable principles, undeniable truths, maxims that would work more often than not - and yet hone their instinct to know when to be audacious in their attempts, courageous in their leap, adapting, adopting and experimenting with the new and modern, something which may be experimental but instinctive. Taking a contra view can be a risk, but sometimes not taking a contra view is bigger risk. 

Is there an escape from taking a view - I guess not. Each time we take a view of things, it will be nice to remember that on exactly the same issue, there is contra view that someone would have taken or would take. So what’s the way out - well that I think can be yet another musings.

Guru

 

143- Monday Musings - The grand parody

143- The grand parody

This is not a new thought i have known, but certainly a new expression. Naseeruddin Shah, the celebrated and cerebral actor lamented how stars become a parody of themselves over a period of time. I hasten to add my two bits to it, the bigger the star, starker the parody.

We are a product of our failures, the cumulative effect of what all we aspired to, but could not achieve, each leaving behind a memory if not a scar. But more tragically we are a product of our successes, each leaving in us with a certitude or two, a way of doing things that worked and seducing us to believe that it is the only way things work and will continue to work. We must remember our failures, but more importantly we must remember our successes, not as events that will caress our egos, but as reminders that in a different set of circumstances, in a different context, the same recipe could well be the recipie of disaster.

A certian kind of music does not appeal any more, a certian kind of movies does not entice any more, a certian kind of language does not express anymore, a certian kind of assumptions does not hold water anymore, a certian kind of behaviour does not engage anymore, a certian way of doing things is not effective anymore, a certian kind of mental map that guided us so well in the past, may not take us the destination anymore so on and so forth. The sandunes of time are forever changing, imperceptibly and subtly, but surely.

Leaders in business have to change thier mental maps all the time. As Lawrence J Peter says, "Everyone rises to his level of incompetence" In as much as this fear haunts me and keeps me on my toes, I see it playing out around me more than what is comforting and sustainable. Leaders becoming a parody of themselves is common sight, and it goes for actors, the more successful the leader has been, the starker is the parody. Everyone is able to to see the parody, except the architect and the victim of it. 

Guru

142 - Monday Musings - the resplendence of impurities

142 - Monday Musings - the resplendence of impurities

While gemology, a science dedicated to the pursuit of study of gems, is a vast geological field of enquiry, the aspect of it which deals with its colors caught my fancy. Of the many ways in which gems are classified as precious or semi precious, and of the many factors on which their relative appeal and price depends upon, color is an important one. This aspect of gemology can teach human beings a thing or two.

An amateur study of precious stones will tell us that in modern usage the precious stones are diamond, ruby, sapphire and emerald, with all other gemstones being semi-precious. Sapphire and Ruby, two of the most popular gems are actually cousins - both are corundum’s i.e. made up of aluminum oxide, but different in the nature of impurities. The impurity chromium gives it a red hue and is called a Ruby, while an impurity of Iron or titanium will give it a blue or green or pink of purple color and it will then be called a Sapphire.

Beryl, chemically beryllium aluminum cyclosilicate is a large joint family. The same culprit chromium there gives it a green color and then its called an emerald, the impurity of iron gives it a golden color. The list is endless and the gem lovers have these impurities a lot to thank for, but what would have been a ruby or a sapphire or an emerald without its color.

An impurity or an imperfection so to speak, is the reason for the value of the stone. Take away its imperfection and it’s just a stone. Human beings treat an imperfection in a very different way. It’s something to be detested, hated, criticized, corrected, feed backed, harped endlessly to the point of being nagging and frustrating, brought up needlessly and tactlessly at most inopportune times. Should it pass our scrutiny that what appears as an imperfection may something only that we do not like, something that only we are not comfortable accepting, or something that is unacceptable to our sensibilities and not something that may be fundamentally or universally unlikable or wrong or bad? Ultimately good and bad may be nothing more than what we as individuals are comfortable with. Our own boundaries cannot and must not decide what is an imperfection in a human being, a right that we defend with passion for ourselves, but something that we may not be willing to lend to others with similar passion. 

Aggression, forthrightness, ambition, result orientation, candor, courage so on and so forth can be virtues with double edges. One man’s food can be another man’s poison, one man’s freedom fighter may be another man’s terrorist, and one man’s imperfection may actually be another man’s virtue. Who knows for better or for worse, how a person might look once you take away what to some appears as an imperfection. Take away the impurity of chromium and a ruby is just another stone. It would be wise before we judge in people what would be an impurity to our eyes, for if he were to get rid of it, he might also rid himself of his greatest strength, the one thing that might his greatest ally in the fight against mediocrity. Not all imperfections need to be eradicated in human beings - mostly it’s not possible, sometimes it’s not desired. 

While dealing with human beings, the big question to ask is, can the impurities or imperfection be valued for what it is, or what it can be, rather than what it is not or what it cannot do – ultimately that is the difference between a gemologist and a stone collector.

Guru

141 Monday Musings – The futility of knowledge

141 Monday Musings – The futility of knowledge

Kabeer the mystic Bhakti poet was a big critic of institutionalized religion and all forms of ritualism. Of the many dimensions of ritualism that directed his ire against, one was institutionalized form of knowledge - the kind which is read or studied from books, the ones which if followed blindly, without regard to context or reason, can defeat the purpose of its pursuit. Kabeer went on to criticize the champions of such knowledge of those times in an acerbic tone, laced with disdain and sarcasm, ultimately drawing attention to the futility of such pursuit and such knowledge. Usually the metaphor of 'pandit' or 'maulvi' is used in abundance by him as a symbol of the repository or proponents of such knowledge in those times. For today’s times we can easily contextualize them to any fixed or rigid knowledge or protectors of such knowledge, who or whom refuse to adapt, learn or move on with times.

Kabeer says,

Pandit aur masalchi, dono soojhan nahi

auran ko kare chandana, aap andhere mahi

(the Pandit and the torchbearer do not understand, that they may be providing light to others, they themselves are in the dark)

Kabeer bahman ki katha, so choran ki naav

sab andhe mil baithiya, bhave tah le jaav

(Kaeer those who speak from only books are like a boat in the hand of thieves - all like blind people rowing it, it shan't reach the shore)

Padhi guni pathak bhaye, samjhaya sansaar

aapan to samjhe nahi, vritha gaya avtaar

(The teacher, who read only from books and tried to explain the mysteries of the world, did not understand those mysteries himself and wasted his life)

In today’s times, when all around us recorded knowledge reigns supreme, but that recorded knowledge has its own limitations. Wisdom, intellect, imagination and awareness are made to play second fiddle for not only children but also adults. Kabeer must be rediscovered as must be wisdom and imagination.

As my friend Pankaj Dubey often says, Knowledge is what already exists, imagination is what can be.

Guru