Long ago (Must be a really long time. Perhaps, when I was in primary school) I learnt the meaning of the word "principle" from the dictionary. I learnt that "principle" is basis for one's conduct. It said principle is something, which is widely recognized by everyone. It said truth and honesty are examples of principle.
It's been years since then and I am beginning to doubt the idea behind principles. I had understood that one can have only two options - honest or dishonest. Looks like I was wrong. In so many people's opinion, there seems to be an in-between state. I mean, you can choose to tell truth or lie as it suits you; as per your convenience. (I must admit that, though I am ashamed, I have been a victim of this plague too. I try to pacify myself saying that I at least make an earnest effort to be honest; to speak truth. But my mind misgives me.)
So, let's say that one is allowed to tell lies once in a while. But how much? Or how many, if one wants it to be measurable? What percentage of lies can one mix with truth and still be called Honest? Or, should we make the word "honesty" itself a relative, measurable term? Like, I can say, "Jay is 75% honest" and everyone will figure that one in four statements that Jay makes is a lie and can safely be ignored. But you may ask if Jay will also tell you which of those four is a lie? I don't know, (100%) honestly!
A couple of old people whom I know (My CEO and COO, who apparently do not understand their world yet!!!) keep saying that these things should be seen as "black and white". And very obviously those words are largely ignored. No one has time to listen to advices that are difficult to follow. Being right all the time is difficult, if not impossible. Taking the convenient path is more fashionable and easier. For those who have a problem with their conscience, you can safely dismiss the idea of honesty with an "impractical" tag. Does any of the Ayn Rand's readers say "practical" is nothing but what one wants to practice? Dismiss them too with a "psycho" tag.
I can not help but wonder how easy it is for one to mock at someone who is trying to stick to his principles. How easy it is for one to consider that such a person is crazy, impractical and out of his mind.
"Are you Mahatma Gandhi?"
"No, I am not"
"Oh, you are Satya harichandra, then"
"No, I am merely trying to be honest"
"You are nuts. But I am not Mahatma. Leave me alone. Will you?"
Sometime ago, I decided that when someone tells me that I do not have to tell truth all the time, I will ask them if they will say the same to their child. Though I am curious about their response, I never find the courage to ask.
Truth hurts, they say. Truth and roses have thorns about them, I reply. But we don't seem to convince each other. "Be flexible, boy. You have to be a bit more practical", I am told.
That word makes me sick. Usage of that word, to be precise. I ask them, “So, you do not want to practice it, do you?” I know I will not get a reply. And I do not. Truth does hurt, it appears.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Monday, November 21, 2005
Books and Bangaloreans
Yesterday was the last day for the Bangalore book festival. Most of the time, Bangalore's biggest books shops-Landmark and crossword being my favorites- are good enough. However, there are two good reasons why I did not want to miss this event.
1. You get a lot of books in an exhibition like this that you don't find anywhere in Bangalore. Mostly the Tamil books, which would otherwise need me to visit Chennai.
2. They give a good discount on a lot of books.
So, I did visit the exhibition this year also. Surprisingly (though not very surprising for someone who knows Bangalore) the last day of the exhibition was not half as crowded as the forum mall on a weekday afternoon. And guess what, the most crowded stall around was the one where they were serving hot filter-coffee. They were people at books alright. But most of them were parents who accompanied their children, who are probably in school or preparing for some XYZ exam. And then few IT folks who were looking for the 'dummies' and 'mastering' series. Reading does not appear to be the most favorite for a modern-day Indian. No, I am not talking about the reading you do at work; hundreds of forwarded mails, technical documents and articles etc. etc. And everyone says that the habit must be inculcated at a young age. But nevertheless, situation is grim. I really wonder if the number of academic related reading that a kid is forced with, has something to do with this. May be yes.
When I was in school it was different. I went to a school, where basic education and good behavior was given highest importance. I had only two languages in school, Tamil and English and Tamil was my first language. I never had loads of homework, neither for the evenings nor for the weekend. When I didn't find a company for cricket, I always had a comic book at hand. My father used to get me books from library for my summer vacation. They were really big books and would take a small boy only in his 5th standard days to finish. But I never minded. They were interesting. When I have nothing else to do, I would just read. When I have nothing to read, I would take the LIFCO dictionary (my first dictionary that my father gifted for me which translated English-Tamil) and read. Just cram word after word into my head. Such was my passion for reading.
Coming back to the topic at hand, I must say that these are good days for Tamil literature. Publishers are trying a lot of good things to attract readers. Tamil books these days are neatly bound and wrapped. Gone are the days when after reading just once, you will have the book in two parts, one without the back cover and one without the front. The paper and printing quality has improved too. Every other book almost certainly draws a second look. It's good that they have realized the importance of making the books presentable apart from high-quality writing.
Only complaint I have, though, is that it is difficult to find books on your particular interests, for the stalls are set-up by publishers themselves and finding a specific book might require you to check out more than a few stalls. And after spending four or five hours, your legs will be in rebellion and the last few shops are unlikely to get as much attention as the first ones :)
1. You get a lot of books in an exhibition like this that you don't find anywhere in Bangalore. Mostly the Tamil books, which would otherwise need me to visit Chennai.
2. They give a good discount on a lot of books.
So, I did visit the exhibition this year also. Surprisingly (though not very surprising for someone who knows Bangalore) the last day of the exhibition was not half as crowded as the forum mall on a weekday afternoon. And guess what, the most crowded stall around was the one where they were serving hot filter-coffee. They were people at books alright. But most of them were parents who accompanied their children, who are probably in school or preparing for some XYZ exam. And then few IT folks who were looking for the 'dummies' and 'mastering' series. Reading does not appear to be the most favorite for a modern-day Indian. No, I am not talking about the reading you do at work; hundreds of forwarded mails, technical documents and articles etc. etc. And everyone says that the habit must be inculcated at a young age. But nevertheless, situation is grim. I really wonder if the number of academic related reading that a kid is forced with, has something to do with this. May be yes.
When I was in school it was different. I went to a school, where basic education and good behavior was given highest importance. I had only two languages in school, Tamil and English and Tamil was my first language. I never had loads of homework, neither for the evenings nor for the weekend. When I didn't find a company for cricket, I always had a comic book at hand. My father used to get me books from library for my summer vacation. They were really big books and would take a small boy only in his 5th standard days to finish. But I never minded. They were interesting. When I have nothing else to do, I would just read. When I have nothing to read, I would take the LIFCO dictionary (my first dictionary that my father gifted for me which translated English-Tamil) and read. Just cram word after word into my head. Such was my passion for reading.
Coming back to the topic at hand, I must say that these are good days for Tamil literature. Publishers are trying a lot of good things to attract readers. Tamil books these days are neatly bound and wrapped. Gone are the days when after reading just once, you will have the book in two parts, one without the back cover and one without the front. The paper and printing quality has improved too. Every other book almost certainly draws a second look. It's good that they have realized the importance of making the books presentable apart from high-quality writing.
Only complaint I have, though, is that it is difficult to find books on your particular interests, for the stalls are set-up by publishers themselves and finding a specific book might require you to check out more than a few stalls. And after spending four or five hours, your legs will be in rebellion and the last few shops are unlikely to get as much attention as the first ones :)
The autowaalah was a young chap, who was kind enough(!) to take me to Koramangala. The weather was good and I was in no mood to find if the meter was tampered or not. Usually I paint a serious picture of myself once I am in an auto and do not open my mouth so as not to encourage the driver to indluge in any conversation.
As we were cutting through the streets of Jaya nagar, I noticed that the driver understood the concept of joy while working. He didn't fail to give at least one glance to every girl that was on road. At one point, looking at one reasonably good-looking and modernly dressed girl, he shook his head murmuring something. I didn't hear what he said nor did I see the expression on his face. I assumed, perhaps, he was overwhelmed. May be he was new to Bangalore.
Then that happened. We crossed one of the popular girls' colleges in Bangalore. So many beautiful girls and that perhaps was too much for the driver. He said aloud, 'Did you see, sir, how they dress?' It was a question to me and I had to respond, which I hated. 'Yes', I mumbled. Just as I would do with a stranger traveller in a train who tries to pull me in to a conversation, I added a good proportion of disinterest towards any further discussion. Unfortunately the autowaalah preferred to ignore that!
'Time has changed a lot, sir. All these modern girls wear what we men wear. Why don't they be content with what is good for them.'
I said nothing.
'They don't seem to have any shame at all. You see,, sir, how short their t-shirts are. ', he went on.
I was still not ready to get involved in. After all the heated argument I had exchanged with a friend of mine who supported the universities in Chennai for banning sleeveless t-shirts and jeans inside college. I had always had the opinion that people/organizations should not force things on which they can only recommend. I wanted to tell the driver that they would do as it would please them not as per what he thinks is right for them. But I refrained.
'Do you understand Kannada, sir?' He asked me in his broken Tamil, 'I am more comfortable with Kannada'. I said 'ok' leaving the answer to his guess.
'You know, sir, last week I dropped few girls from Koramangala to Marathahalli. They all were dressed like these. They care not about showing their waistlines. All those girls were giggling all the way non-stop, you know. I asked them why they all are dressed up like this and they said it is fashion.'
I doubted his guts to have asked that question but said nothing.
Then he had a question (for me) again. 'Won't their parents reprimand these girls at home, sir?'
As fate would have had it, something forced me to retort and I said, 'May be they are modern-like-this too.'
'You are right sir. Once, two ladies got in to my auto. Mother and daughter, they are. And both are dressed like same. No difference. I look at the daughter. I look at the mother. They are equally badly dressed.'
Fortunately for me, that was the end of the ride and lesson on Indian tradition. But that summed up the mindset of most of Indian people. What is right for a foreign girl is not right for an Indian girl. What is right for an Indian man is not right for an Indian girl. What is right for an Indian girlin her opinion is not right for her either. What one thinks as right for her is right for her!
Long way to go!
As we were cutting through the streets of Jaya nagar, I noticed that the driver understood the concept of joy while working. He didn't fail to give at least one glance to every girl that was on road. At one point, looking at one reasonably good-looking and modernly dressed girl, he shook his head murmuring something. I didn't hear what he said nor did I see the expression on his face. I assumed, perhaps, he was overwhelmed. May be he was new to Bangalore.
Then that happened. We crossed one of the popular girls' colleges in Bangalore. So many beautiful girls and that perhaps was too much for the driver. He said aloud, 'Did you see, sir, how they dress?' It was a question to me and I had to respond, which I hated. 'Yes', I mumbled. Just as I would do with a stranger traveller in a train who tries to pull me in to a conversation, I added a good proportion of disinterest towards any further discussion. Unfortunately the autowaalah preferred to ignore that!
'Time has changed a lot, sir. All these modern girls wear what we men wear. Why don't they be content with what is good for them.'
I said nothing.
'They don't seem to have any shame at all. You see,, sir, how short their t-shirts are. ', he went on.
I was still not ready to get involved in. After all the heated argument I had exchanged with a friend of mine who supported the universities in Chennai for banning sleeveless t-shirts and jeans inside college. I had always had the opinion that people/organizations should not force things on which they can only recommend. I wanted to tell the driver that they would do as it would please them not as per what he thinks is right for them. But I refrained.
'Do you understand Kannada, sir?' He asked me in his broken Tamil, 'I am more comfortable with Kannada'. I said 'ok' leaving the answer to his guess.
'You know, sir, last week I dropped few girls from Koramangala to Marathahalli. They all were dressed like these. They care not about showing their waistlines. All those girls were giggling all the way non-stop, you know. I asked them why they all are dressed up like this and they said it is fashion.'
I doubted his guts to have asked that question but said nothing.
Then he had a question (for me) again. 'Won't their parents reprimand these girls at home, sir?'
As fate would have had it, something forced me to retort and I said, 'May be they are modern-like-this too.'
'You are right sir. Once, two ladies got in to my auto. Mother and daughter, they are. And both are dressed like same. No difference. I look at the daughter. I look at the mother. They are equally badly dressed.'
Fortunately for me, that was the end of the ride and lesson on Indian tradition. But that summed up the mindset of most of Indian people. What is right for a foreign girl is not right for an Indian girl. What is right for an Indian man is not right for an Indian girl. What is right for an Indian girlin her opinion is not right for her either. What one thinks as right for her is right for her!
Long way to go!
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
I can't help but keep looking at my ring finger. The more I look at it, the more I hate how it looks. I can't help but compare it with the one on my right hand. The feeling is worse. Not that I have the most beautiful fingers in the world. Nor am I saying that it is as important to me as to girls. But it's a blemish.
It looks ugly. It's leaning to the left, as though having an affection towards the little finger-Apparently the doctor didn't like it and asked me to strap it with the middle finger till it mends.It wouldn't bend;stubborn like me. It's ballooned-in-the-middle shape is funny, though, at times. From a particular angle, it looks like a boomerang; a somewhat straighter boomerang. Only that I can't detach it from my body and use for a weapon.
The doctor has fooled me; he said it would become normal. I mutter. May be I can spend few thousand bucks more to set it alright. May be I can go for a surgery! But the idea of not being able to use one of my hands for some more time is a nightmare.
It looks ugly. It's leaning to the left, as though having an affection towards the little finger-Apparently the doctor didn't like it and asked me to strap it with the middle finger till it mends.It wouldn't bend;stubborn like me. It's ballooned-in-the-middle shape is funny, though, at times. From a particular angle, it looks like a boomerang; a somewhat straighter boomerang. Only that I can't detach it from my body and use for a weapon.
The doctor has fooled me; he said it would become normal. I mutter. May be I can spend few thousand bucks more to set it alright. May be I can go for a surgery! But the idea of not being able to use one of my hands for some more time is a nightmare.
Monday, November 07, 2005
“It is not appropriate to ask a man his salary or a woman her age”, they say in India. (I am not sure if they have the same belief in other countries too)
Contrarily, a man would always want to know a girl's age and man's salary is an important information for the girl too.
So, why on earth did they say this? Does anyone have a clue?
Contrarily, a man would always want to know a girl's age and man's salary is an important information for the girl too.
So, why on earth did they say this? Does anyone have a clue?
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