Past mistakes: my thoughts on Ian McEwan's Atonement

While I was paying for a musty copy of Ian McEwan's Atonement, the pretty girl behind the counter looked at my purchase and remarked wryly, 'It's for school, isn't it?'. I shook my head, beeped my Apple Watch against the payment machine and left, not trivially pleased at having been regarded as young enough for school 😉

Atonement is not an obscure novel. The book generated Booker buzz when it first came out and the 2007 film adaptation staring Kiera Knightley was nominated for several Oscars. And lastly, as my tattooed shopkeeper's remark would suggest – the book is part of humanities curriculums across the world. My own copy had clearly been through the hands of a very diligent student who'd scribbled copious notes on the margins, underlining (often with double strokes!) several passages dealing with the inner turmoils of female characters – fodder for a feminist essay perhaps? I love a book that has been inked by a pen or two; it takes a special book to invite such attention.

Atonement begins in 1930s at the idyllic English home of the Tallises that is preparing to entertain family and friends for a special dinner. It is a muggy summer day and the simmering heat induces a general sense of lethargy in the household, but fate is at play. Thirteen-year-old Briony, an aspiring writer, is struggling with the debut production of her play -- Arabella -- to mark her elder brother Leon's homecoming. The play's cast,  the three Quincey cousins -- 15-year-old Lola and the 9-year-old twins, Jackson and Pierrot -- are threatening to ruin the show. Briony's elder sister Cecilia is having her fair share of frustrations as she confronts a newfound love for Robbie Turner, her childhood friend and the cook's son. The romance between Cecilia and Robbie doesn't bloom, it erupts. Briony stumbles upon these confusing scenes and mistakes Robbie to be a sexual fiend from whom her family must be rescued. Her naïveté and charged imagination color her judgement later that evening when she rescues Lola from being raped by a man in the dark. Briony is clear, it had to be Robbie.  The remaining sections of the book deal with the repercussions of this lie.

Part II is a gripping war novella about the 1940 Allied retreat from Dunkirk described from the point of view of Robbie, who had been released early in return for joining the military. This is easily the best part of the book. Adrenaline-charged scenes of Luftwaffe bombing of the fleeing British forces are juxtaposed with chilling descriptions of a war-torn people clinging to a sense of normalcy. This section of the book, in my humble opinion, puts Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk to shame. The film may capture the corporeal splendors of war, but McEwan's writings captures its human elements. The third part features Briony's stint as a trainee nurse during the 1940-41 London Blitz. She has realized her role in ruining Robbie's life and seeks atonement. The theme is how the present is held hostage by the past and sometimes, there is nothing that can be done about it. The last part is set in the year 1999; the surviving characters, frail and aged, come together for the long-delayed opening of the Arabella.

Ian McEwan's mastery of his craft is evident in this book. His portrayal of misguided innocence is as heartbreaking as it is infuriating. He breathes uniqueness into every character and blends a love story, a war story and a redemption story into a sumptuous read that will keep you hooked from the first page.

Is a plant, an animal?

One of the objections against Veganism that my last post evoked was that 'plants have feelings too and that Vegans are shying away from the ethical implications of killing plants'. I think that's a very valid question and deserves to be examined. I took a few days to ponder on this question and at the end of it, I stand by my last post's conclusion - "It is unethical to cause unnecessary pain and suffering to a living being. However, to survive one must do what one must."

The implications of the second part of my statement should be clear - if you have no other option to survive,  apart from eating meat, you should eat meat. Not doing so would lead to wilful starvation which is a form of violence against oneself.

Now let's evaluate if eating plants is subject to the same ethical compulsions as eating animals.

A Vegan dilemma - To kill or not to kill

A few weeks back, I was involved in an agitated debate with a friend on whether the consumption of meat by humans is justifiable. He was interested in this question from a philosophical/ethical standpoint, while I was interested in pushing my agenda of vegetarianism. Hence, it was not an impartial debate from my perspective. Over the course of two hours, our discussion arrived at several islands of thought such as the definition of sentience, the ability to subjectively evaluate one's environment, the ethical implications of humane meat farming and so on. For instance, we spent close to an hour arguing whether we can categorize animals on a spectrum/scale of sentience. He argued that cats/dogs are vastly more sentient than ants, while I countered that ants can collaborate and build architecturally complex ant-hills, which cats/dogs cannot.

Reflections on a relationship

The shelf above my dressing table is home to a picture of Lord Balaji from a 2012 calendar, a small plastic Krishna, a miniature bronze Lakshmi and a framed portrait of my father. Each morning after a shower, I would stop in front of this shrine and close my eyes for a few moments. Some years back, I would mentally voice my hopes for the day - 'do well in the upcoming exam', 'help me kick this cough', or 'let that girl like me a little!'. Nowadays, I hardly have the time to call out His name a few times. This morning, as I was beginning this 10 second tryst with my faith, I noticed a smudge on my father's picture. I picked it up, wiped away the dirt and found myself gazing at the man. Ever since I can remember, people have told me that I look like him. I rarely agreed then. And yet, each year as my face hardens into age, I see more of my father in the mirror. I know that in twenty years, I will be just like the image in this frame. Hopefully, a bit thinner.

The Monsoon

When the monsoon rains hit Kerala on the western shore of the country with a rambunctious outburst, the whole country - rulers and the ruled - heaves a sigh of collective relief. With over a billion mouths to feed, the monsoons are no joking matter. During my years in Kolkata, I have witnessed, first-hand, the immeasurable force of these rains. Hours and hours of relentless downpour, interspersed with periods of quiet in which the Earth itself seems to come alive in new life. I have loved the monsoon for its visual beauty and hated it for exposing India's crumbling infrastructures. A decade later, I sit now amidst swirling polar winds, as far away, geographically and culturally possible from the monsoons and yet I find myself anticipating them with a glassy taste at the pit of my throat.

The question of religion in India

This past week, Prime Minister Narendra Modi delivered possibly his greatest speech since assuming office. Surprisingly, he was not sharing the dais with President Obama or the Wolverine; he was not even speaking to a audience of business tycoons or crazed NRIs. This speech featured at an event to mark the elevation to sainthood of Kuriakose Elias Chavara and Sister Euphrasia of Kerala. In it, the Prime Minister outlined his government's iron-clad commitment to the fundamental right of religious freedom, calling upon diverse inspirations for secularism ranging from the Rig Veda to Swami Vivekananda. As PM Modi's speeches go, this one was pretty mundane - it did not announce any massive projects, breakthrough deals or revolutionary ideas, however in my opinion, this speech marks an important milestone for his government - he has finally broken his silence on the growing winds of religious intolerance that are swirling around India.

The Debate we should be having

Delhi, and a large part of India, is gripped with Election fever! The national capital is witnessing the first litmus test of the 'Modi wave' against a vibrant political force. With all due respect, the BJP's successes in other states since May 2014 have been against hapless oppositions who are clamoring to find a political message that resonates with the public. In a political atmosphere where Modi & the BJP have largely usurped the development card, AAP represents an intriguing mix of activism and realpolitik. AAP's early electoral successes were primarily due to Arvind Kejriwal's activist credentials. However when their 49-day government tanked, the party seemed to implode. A string of high-profile desertions and an overreaching attempt in the Lok Sabha elections saw the party largely written off by political observers and the media. However, since then AAP has managed to successfully re-brand itself as a political party that eschews politics - a paradoxical position pulled off in no small measure by Arvind's muffler-framed charms.
With exit polls predicting a strong performance by AAP despite the BJP pulling out the big guns for this election, the media are huffing and puffing with an obscene level of excitement. The Internet, especially Twitter, is clogged with an endless stream of irrelevant quotes and counter-quotes. One really wonders whether most of India really cares if AAP loses or decimates the BJP in this election?

A tragedy of Vedic proportions

If you have been following the news from India over the last few weeks, undoubtedly you’d have gawked at the following gems:

“We discovered the Pythagoras Theorem but we gracefully allowed the Greeks to take the credit” [1]

“We realize that the Mahabharata says Karna was not born from his mother’s womb. This means that genetic science was present at that time.” [2]

“Ancient India knew aerial combat techniques” [3]

“Ancient planes powered by donkey urine” [4]

Writer's Block - sighting the kraken!

I have always wondered if there are any patterns in my own behavior that will help me predict my bouts of writer's block.
A few days of retrospection revealed - there really are!

Read more, here. 

How to start writing?

People express themselves in various ways. Some sing themselves hoarse, some dance their hearts out, some cook and decorate their food with painstaking detail, some collect rocks that look funny, and some write. 
Writing is something each and every student has to do at some point of time in school. Anything made compulsory quickly becomes an object of hatred among kids and hence, a lot of people consider writing to be a chore, something they need to do from time to time to get the job done. Writing for joy or for emotions sounds alien and strange to them. 
However, there are tons of people who write simply because they love it. I am one such person. 

I write only when I am truly inspired to express myself in a certain way. Writing this blog is probably the most important thing I have done in my 22 years; it is a living, breathing scrapbook of my emotions and thoughts over the last 5 years and I am proud of it. 

One question a few people have asked me is how do I write? How to get into the mindset of writing and what are the tools required to write effectively? These are common questions and I am sure there is no right answer to them, rather there are several good answers. But I would like to share a few thoughts on my approach to writing. If you have different thoughts or views, please do share them in the comments - I would love to know them. :) 

Reading
A lot of people consider reading to be the first step in writing. They assume that being well-read is a necessary requirement for writing. I beg to disagree. Reading is *important* and *vital* for writing but definitely not *compulsory*. Reading and writing are two different strands but they intersect at several places. 
Reading helps writing in two key ways:

1. It builds your vocabulary, arsenal of idioms, phrases etc. These lend to the richness and vitality of your writing. Good writing and great writing are sometimes differentiated only their difference in choice of adjectives and adverbs! Reading good authors will help you enrich your own tool set for writing, but this is a sub-conscious process which occurs over a long time. You definitely should not read just to write! That will deprive you of the joy of reading and writing! 
2. Reading gives you content for writing. Let's be fair to ourselves, we don't have a lot of things happening in our lives. Most of us are students or employees and a major chunk of our day goes off in getting through to the next day in one piece. We don't get opportunities to travel or observe as much as we would like. Reading can provide with the much-needed fodder for writing your own content. Reading good newspapers, blogs and books will enrich your mind and give you a chance to build on those. You may do so through 'reply' articles or letters or even 'fan-fiction'! 

Write what you know! 
A lot of people love reading murder-mysteries and whodunits from a very early age. I am also a part of that list. I love reading tense, terse action-thrillers (think Bourne) and historical mysteries (think Angels and Demons), but if I try to write such a book, I highly doubt if I will want to read it myself! The reason is, I don't *know* how a murderer feels when he plunges his knife into his victim! I have not had the opportunity to talk to convicts or detectives to know their mindsets. I don't know how a helicopter flies or how it will explode when struck by a missile! If I try to write a book about a murderer who attempts to flee from the cops on a helicopter, it will be a childish rendering of what I would have read from numerous other whodunits. There will be nothing uniquely *me* in that book. So, I generally aver, don't write what you don't know. 
In its own way, my life has been full of challenges and excitements, so I try to write about things I can relate with - my past, my hopes, my concerns at the state of our nation etc. 
I don't publish any post unless I am sure there is at-least a tiny part of me in it :)

The Word Processor
Please don't write on MS Word. Please, just don't! It is one of the most depressing experiences in my opinion. Every time I open MS Word to start writing a post, I am reminded of the hundreds of school and college assignments I was forced to write and it totally spoils my mood! Word also has too many options for font, color, scaling, background blah blah. For writing all you need is a screen and a keyboard. Go for a minimalistic word processor like Q10. Trust me, you will be amazed at how much you can write in one sitting with a no-nonsense word processor! 

The Font
I know I just said, a screen and a keyboard are all you need for writing, and I stick by it. However, I am a fool for fonts! :| I love the typographical features of various fonts and they help me focus my thoughts better. If I am writing for office or work, I prefer a more serious *getting-it-done* font such as Calibri. It is crisp and literally has no frills attached. But for my blog, I prefer Helvetica or Trebuchet. I feel the elegant notes of these fonts give the blog post the personal warmth I want my readers to feel when they read my articles.

The Music
Simple advice - turn it OFF! People love listening to music when they read or write. I detest both. Reading and writing are for me - uni-functional tasks. You must give them your full attention, otherwise you are just wasting your time. Music has a great power to transport you to different states of mind in no time. While that is a magical thing when you are stressed out or bored, that may not be good when you writing. Imagine that you sit down to write a polemic about the garbage problem in Bangalore and you plug in your headphones to listen to classic country music (think James Taylor). If you are anything like me, your anger would instantly fly away and get replaced with a sense of wonder at the power of such simple lyrics. If you still strive to write your angry article, you will end up neither enjoying the song nor relishing the righteous anger etched into your words. 
There are innumerable places where music helps, I feel writing is not one such place. 

Whom are you writing for? 
Target audience is an important thing to consider when you are writing a blog or a book. Whom are you hoping will read and savor your words? Your peers? Young children? Women? Or, are you planning to write just for yourself? 
Any answer is fine! As long as you know your target audience, it will help to focus your work. If you are writing for your peers, you will automatically gravitate your article towards references or implications of their affinity. If you are writing for children, you will obviously refrain from certain avenues and topics. Like me, if you write largely for yourself, then it is an open world for you! You can write anything you want and there is a sweet sense of freedom in that. 

When to write?
Time tables help me get through my day. I assiduously compartmentalize my time into several chunks of productive work. Being a geek, I use tons of apps and websites to help me increase my productivity. But the one thing I can never organize is my writing time. If I sit down at my desk with the intention of writing, I usually cannot. Or worse, I will write such absolute drivel that I will get depressed for the next hour. Like most forms of expression, writing is inspired work. You may never know when it will hit you and you certainly can't predict it. For example, once after getting drenched to my bones in the rain, I came back home and after having a bath, sat down and wrote 3 chapters of a novella, no questions asked. The words just kept coming out! 
However, if you are just starting to write, it is always good to practice writing regularly. Don't expect your articles to always be at the best of your potential but regular effort will attune your mind to the patience and rigors of writing. 

Popularize
If you plan on writing a blog, even if it is a personal blog like mine, you will eventually want more people to read and share your thoughts. Obviously, like any form of expression, writing also demands attention and nourishment from informed audience. Popularizing your blog, however, can be an uphill journey. In this age of twitter and facebook, a lot of people don't have the discipline to read a full article. So it will take time and a *lot* of persistence before you assemble your band of dedicated readers. My blog, despite being 5 years old, is still an infant in terms of reach but I have managed to put in place a group of people who always read my posts and give me invaluable feedback. It makes me feel appreciated and inspires me to write better! So, don't shy away from popularizing your works. 
There are several techniques for promoting blogs - Search Engine Optimizations, Social Networking, Blog Directories like blogadda etc. Just Google it!

Editing
A very important part of writing is editing. You must keep reading and re-reading your own work to ensure that it is absolutely of top-notch quality. You don't want embarrassing grammatical mistakes or silly play of words to spoil the flow of thought in the article. Sometimes, reading your post after a day or two will give you a different perspective and aid the editing process. Never shy from butchering your work till it is *just* perfect! 

Respect your limitations
Just like anything else in life, you won't become a Gabriel Garcia Marquez after writing for a year or two. It will take time, effort, discipline and limitless patience before you reach a level that you will be proud of. But don't write for the sake of becoming better at it, instead write because you enjoy it. That will make the journey towards perfection a breezy ride. Respect your limitations but constantly strive to overcome them!

Happy writing!  :)

The Indian Newspaper of 2013

The first rule of a capitalistic enterprise is to boost value to its shareholders by increasing profits and expanding revenues. But as capitalistic pursuits go, the Newspaper business does not fall so neatly into such frameworks. What is the real goal of a newspaper? Does it owe its allegiance to its stock-holders or to the public at large? Managing these two objectives, sometimes conflicting in nature, has always been a challenge to any newspaper worth its salt. 

Before proceeding, I must confess that I am no insider to the newspaper industry. My sole experience with the newspaper lies with the thousands of hours I have spent reading newspapers in the living room, the bed room, the kitchen and most-definitely, the bathroom. Thanks to my parents, I was introduced to reading the morning paper very early on and I cannot imagine a day now without at least skimming the headlines and the editorials. 
However, unlike other industries, newspapers lend themselves to convenient scrutiny by the public at large. As voices of commentary and critique of the society, it is only fair that the public also exercise that right from time to time. Another point I would like to stress is that the object of commentary in this piece is only the newspaper industry (that too, largely on the English Newspaper industry in India) and not TV news or Vernacular newspapers. 

Firstly, I believe that profits cannot and must not be the sole motive of a newspaper. Indian constitution rests on the three pillars of the Judiciary, the Legislature and the Executive. But there is a silent, fourth pillar, eternally examining and censuring the actions and inactions of the first three, that is the role of the Media as envisioned by the creators of our Republic.

As much as we would all like the media to be an independent, profit-agnostic exercise, the fact remains that achieving financial self-sufficiency is a prima facie requirement for the pursuit of intensive journalism. Unlike other enterprises, the media cannot rely on state funding as that could convert the media from the voice of the people to the voice of the rulers. So from that perspective, the framers of the Republic would like the Media to attain financial independence from the State for the carrying out of its responsibilities to the Indian public. 

When countenanced with such delicate, roundabout arguments for balance, it is likely that every once in a while, the Media will tip-toe on the wrong side of the border. I fear that this could be a time of such an unwarranted incursion. 

Indian newspapers have a long and glorious history. From the Bengal Gazette in 1780 to the Times of India in 1838 and The Hindu in 1878, Indian newspapers were an integral and catalysing part of the reawakening of the nation under the ambit of nationalism and Satyagraha. They were constant commentators on the British Government in India and the Indian Freedom Struggle. With such a long tradition of critical study and reporting under its belt, the Indian print media was well placed to midwife the Nation towards a mature democracy with a vibrant media. 

While Indian print media has a long history, it paled in comparison with the print media in the West, especially when it came to technology if not in terms of content or quality of reporting. 
Technologies, management practices and revenue-generating initiatives that were commonplace in the West would take many years before making their way into the Indian English Newspaper Industry and later on, into the Vernacular industry. But this time delay in the transfer of technological and management benefits from the West has been greatly reduced in the last few decades. Today, the latest and greatest in the world of reporting and printing are used in India within a few years of them making an appearance in the West. This has been a major boost to the profile and esteem of our Newspaper industry. 

However, tighter integration and globalisation mean that the bad effects get propagated too, sometimes with frightening intensity and pace. The Western print media is now crippled with the twin body-blows of falling advertisement revenues and plummeting subscription numbers. Consolidation and sale of major, iconic newspapers such as The Boston Globe and The LA Times have become staple news pieces. In these times of such great financial uncertainty, one cannot help but wonder at the effects these would have on the journalistic independence and investigative endeavours of these newspapers. 

Even though Indian newspapers are not facing the same issues as their Western counterparts today, thanks to lower internet percolation in the country, they cannot stay smug for too long. It is only a matter of time before the growth in Internet percolation ensures people start considering hard copy newspapers a redundant expense. 
But being behind the curve in this matter, has given Indian newspapers some time to adapt and hopefully stave off the crises of the West. 

Among the measures pursued by Indian newspapers in warding off the fall of subscription numbers, the most prominent are the increasing focus on entertainment aka the tabloid culture and a capricious tendency of sensationalism often by throwing caution to the wind. 

Personally, I am deeply concerned by this development as an indirect victim of these policies is the relegation of investigative journalism especially in topics unpopular with the masses. A newspaper that allows its subscription numbers to decide its charter fails the Constitution, the public and the tradition of journalism. While I may sound alarmist to many, I have very solid reasons behind my panic. Reputed, national newspapers which deeply influence public opinions are also falling into this trap and transforming the business of reporting into pitched street battles played out through pointed advertisements on TV and Youtube. There is no 'one way' of journalism, and ergo, there is no 'one-right-way' of reporting the news. It is amusing to see newspapers with over 150 years of experience  implicitly propounding this fallacy. 

The arrival of 24x7 news channels on TV revolutionised Indian Media and the public's perception towards news and current affairs. Thanks to the inherent advantages of the medium, 24x7 news channels took the daily news to millions of Indian hitherto deprived from it. Their proliferation, thanks to healthy backing by sponsors, eventually led to a situation where news channels struggled to differentiate themselves from the horde. 'In just how many ways could you read the daily news?', one might ask. Some channels responded with the introduction of media-induced sensationalism. News items were picked for broadcast, not for their intrinsic worthiness but rather for their ability to stir up partisan emotions. Purporting to portray the angst of the 'urban, middle-class Indian' (of which I am a part) these channels have been at the vanguard of a disease that has hollowed out the media from within. The print media was not far behind as reputed newspapers started clamouring for the viable (and lucrative) voice of the urban educated masses. These developments have already converted the role of the media from that of an impartial rapporteur of events into a selective PR machine cum ad-hoc judiciary cum myopic speculators. One can only shudder about the future.

The second disturbing trend is the ever-increasing focus and pages being devoted for sports, entertainment and local political claims and counter-claims. Understandably, these instil great enthusiasm among readers and hence, occupy a role in any standard newspaper. But can they claim to be the bread and butter of a standard, non-tabloid, newspaper? Most certainly not. But market dynamics suggest that this strategy, 'tabloidization' if you will, is certainly working. Newspapers that devote greater share to tabloid-worthy material and localized content are boosting their readership numbers in B and C centres, for long the holy grail of the newspaper industry.  While the latter is a recommended measure for catering news, the former is a concerning development in the long run.

While there is nothing wrong in a newspaper catering to the requirements of its readership, any newspaper should first take into account two considerations. The first is the growth of the Internet in India. Driven by mobile devices, which already account for 2/3rd of Indians reaching out to the net, close to 122 million Indians go online regularly. That number is expected to double or triple in a decade or less. Given the fact that the Internet is a reservoir for news on entertainment, sports, fashion etc., for how much longer can a newspaper expect its readers to turn to it alone for these topics? Personally, I believe that it is highly unlikely.  The Internet can always deliver faster, steamier reports on these issues.
The second consideration is a subjective one that will vary from person to person and newspaper to newspaper. Whose voice does a 'national' newspaper represent? If we go by population figures, it must represent the voice of the rural poor. But how many in that demographic refer to a newspaper regularly? If it went by readership numbers alone, it will necessarily have to represent the voice of the urban middle-class. Neither extreme is justifiable of the term 'national newspaper'. Rather, I believe that a 'national' newspaper owes its primary obligation to an implicit social contract it shares with the people of India, all the people of India. A social contract that binds it towards equitable, objective representation of all their views, concerns and interests without falling to market compulsions or ideological tones. From that perspective, devoting greater and greater share of the newspaper to catering to a small subscription base is denigrating the social contract of the Newspaper with the people. 

It is imperative that newspapers collectively awaken to arrest these trends. Introspection is a bitter pill to swallow for anyone, let alone for an inured critic. Each newspaper must recognize its voice in this integrated, internet-driven, noisy world where each one has the information at hand to have an opinion. This soul searching must definitely involve market conditions but only as a peripheral concern rather than as the scope of the search. 
Newspapers must understand that the only areas where they can always hope to compete with and surpass content on the crowd-sourced Internet are editorials, in-depth analyses and investigative journalism. Realization of its key strengths will help in harmonizing the identity of the paper with its strategies. The internet is an important tool that must be leveraged by each newspaper, not only for boosting revenues but also for widening its reach. Some articles could be made available for free on mobile internet sites while the others could be charged, similar to the strategy adopted by leading International newspapers such as The New York Times. 

A relatively more obscure weapon in the arsenal of Indian newspapers but with potentially game-changing consequences is the treasure trove of historical data in its archives. As a nation, we are notoriously inept when it comes to maintaining history and more importantly, learning from it. No wonder that we needed the British to rediscover the wonders of our own history. Newspapers are the greatest collective source of contemporary Indian history, which is of more value to the governing of this nation. The historical archives of leading Indian newspapers must be indexed and made available online. Several newspapers could come together to make this information available in the public domain. Apart from making this information available, newspapers must also strive to use them more actively in their reporting. Editorials and analyses must draw historical parallels to enable a more comprehensive understanding of the problems of today. In a nation with little or no regard for historical facts, Newspapers are vital guardians of the value of history. 

In all fairness, Indian newspapers are in fairly good shape. It is a vibrant industry that is growing well in a country with increasing literacy levels and an overdue demographic dividend. The industry has an active self-regulator in the Press Council of India and a few newspapers such as The Hindu are reputed worldwide for their quality of news reporting. These achievements sit side-by-side with dangerous, nascent overtones which must be studied and checked. The public must play a role in this, an active role. After all, this is a classic question of who will report on the reporters. And democracy rests that responsibility on my shoulders, and yours. 




 
 

The Monolingual Indian

In a land with 18 official languages enshrined by the Constitution, 1652 natively different mother-tongues and over 30,000 dialects, it should be odd to find a monolingual citizen. But far from being an oddity, people like me are becoming the norm of today.

I must clarify upfront that I am not monolingual in the way an American is with English. No, I can speak Tamil fluently and Hindi passably. I can understand enough Malayalam and Kannada to find my way around. If multilingualism related solely with the functional usage of a language, then I plead guilty to the count of a misleading blogpost-title. 

However, I refuse to accept this inferior definition for multilingualism. In an excellent essay on Bilingual Intellectuals, Ramachandra Guha defines a language as a bridge or a wormhole into an entirely new universe of values, ideas, conventions and cultures. By imbibing these natively, a bilingual intellectual can connect them with readers of a different tongue. That is a powerful thought and I have borrowed liberally from it in this post. 

Pluralism is the only word that can define India and ergo, define an Indian. There is no 'One' India and there is definitely no 'One' Indian. One of the facets of the Plural Indian is his linguistic identity. Personally, I am a Tamilian. But the Tamil I speak at home is greatly different from the Tamil spoken on the market streets of Madras. My Tamil could then be classified as Brahmin Tamil. However, it would still be different from the Tamil spoken by Iyers. The words, pronunciations and phrases will be quite different. So I can finally say that my mother tongue is Iyengar Brahmin Tamil. 

But I still consider myself as a Monolingual Indian for neither can I think effortlessly nor can I communicate complex thought processes in Tamil or Hindi, half as well as I can do so in English. English is, in the broadest sense, my 'mother tongue'. 

An important aspect of knowing a language is one's literary contributions to it. Many people might be satisfied with just using a language as a functional tool for purchasing bus tickets or for ordering dinner. If everyone had such a commonplace relationship with languages, the world would be a very dull place indeed. I like to consider a language as a malleable sheet of gold. One really must try bending it back and forth to express more than just 'Two burgers and a Coke'. But literary outputs in any language requires a greater depth of understanding and an intrinsic ability to 'connect' with the language on a sub-conscious level. Of course, many writers first output their work in their native or first language and then translate it into their second language. But if the translation is to retain the spark and vigour of the first, the 'connection' with the language becomes paramount. 

I cannot 'connect' with Tamil the way I can with English. As a Tamilian, if not as a Tamil Brahmin, I can claim inheritance to the extensive literary outputs of the Sangam Age, the Self-Respect Movement, the Dravidian Pride Movement and the Bhakti Movement. Sadly, I cannot and certainly could not do justice to such an inheritance. I can pay lip-service to my heritage but it is a dead artefact to me for all practical purposes.

I do not have the luxury of repining as I was not denied in any manner from learning Tamil, Bengali or Sanskrit well. I certainly had the opportunities but not the inclination. In a misplaced childish sensibility, I used to regard English as a symbol of status and power. The vernaculars seemed to be the pointless exercises of a nation that got subjugated by an island for 300 years. To rephrase in a less odious manner, English appeared like the express to the future, while vernaculars seemed to be bridges to a broken past. 

I regret those convictions today. The past, broken or otherwise, carries powerful totems for the future and it's imperative that we carry forth its heritage. My inability to connect with my own linguistic heritage and thereby influence my literary outputs, in English or otherwise, renders me handicapped. I can connect easier with the British peerage of the 19th century than with the Thanjavur Marathas who ruled my native town. 

A sanguine commentator would advise me to plunge right-away into learning Tamil from first principles.  He would ask me to understand the grammatical underpinnings of the language and over many years, achieve the level of comfort required to comprehend the great works. That is certainly a plan. I could definitely learn the grammar and hope to reach a level of comfort with the language that I currently enjoy with English, but I fear that it will always be the effort of an 'English speaker attempting to learn Tamil'. My thought process will always kick start in English and then hopefully switch to Tamil. But I suppose it is better to try and fail than to not try at all.

Here is to hoping I can someday write a rant in Tamil about having missed the opportunity to connect with Bengali! 

The communication paradox

I vividly remember the summer holidays in Kolkata after my 7th grade. Amidst the searing heat and tee-shirt clenching humidity, I discovered the letter. What started out as a playful prank with my cousin (also a wiry 12 year old) who lived in Chennai, soon turned into a continuing series of correspondence spanning an array of interests and aversions, ranging from Pokemon and Batman to Brinjals and the Australian Cricket Team.

Members of both families found our obsession with letter-writing rather odd. After all it was the year 2003 and the e-mail had started to become ubiquitous even amongst the Dial-up modem middle-class. My mother surmised to be to be a P.G.Wodehouse-inspired phase of mine, but avidly encouraged me to get better at it.

A few months back, while I was shifting a few things from Chennai, my home town, to Bangalore, my work town, I recovered one of those letters. Cliched, assiduously formal but with childish content and expressed in a bits-by-pieces scrawny handwriting, the letter brought back some old memories and rekindled old laughter. It was a good thing to discover. But running into old, warm things is nothing new, right? We all see that old diary in the back of the cupboard and end up poring over it that weekend, or we rediscover that buried tin box with all our childhood treasures in it and rack our brains all day trying to figure out what was so special about that one-armed G.I.Joe. No, my discovery was very much within the boundaries of coincidence and a childhood well-spent.

But I believe that finding that letter was more than just that. It almost felt like the Universe was nudging me to understand the under-currents below my feet and acknowledge them. You see, I am a communications engineer. I work on a mobile system-on-chip. For the better part of my education, I have studied about communication and ways of making it more effective. And haven't we?
From the once-revolutionary Telegraph to the today's 'sexting' convenient Snapchat, we have come a long way in making communication more effective, efficient, cheap and most-importantly easier.
But is communication, just the transfer of ideas or thoughts from one person to another? Is it just that mechanical experience we all have to endure to convey information to others? After reading that letter, I refuse to accept that premise.

Because that letter was not about the content. What it spoke to me was not written on it. The subtle implication that another person took the trouble of sitting down with a pen and paper, jotted down their thoughts, phrased them eloquently (*citation needed* ), stuck a stamp onto, walked down to the post box and dropped it, all for the express purpose of my having a peek into his opinions on Pokemon evolution. That was never written on that letter, but that was the message which struck home. That letter had character. It had meaning and more importantly, a human face behind it.

I wish I could say otherwise but today we do not have that. The under-currents that flow beneath every letter and which sometimes need 10-20 reads to identify have been made irrelevant today. Earlier, words used to be the mode for describing a beautiful vista outside one's hotel room when traveling. Today it is about Instagram this and tweet that. That picture was never taken for one special person to admire along with us, it was taken to boost one's self worth on a virtual reality.

I am all for the communication revolution. After all, it pays my bills! I agree that in this fast paced world, awaiting a week for a reply is not feasible. But surely there could be a middle ground? That does not just mean forcing kids to do it to appease the guilt of their parents. Surely, we could find more things to say without just punching into a slab of metal and glass?

My me time.

Firstly I should apologize. Both to myself and my (pitiably low :P ) readership. I have been unable to update my blog in over a month now despite a resolution (much before New Years) to the contrary. 

My reasons are so painfully cliched that I will not bother you with the details. I have just been busy. 

Working in a leading tech-firm such as Nvidia is an awesome experience for anyone who has even a passing interest in tech. Add to that a super fast internet, amazing collection of online resources and good coffee , then there really is no reason to leave the office! It is no secret that the top companies in the world of tech such as Google prefer their employees spending as much time as possible within office premises. To enable this, they provide every conceivable home-comfort right at your desk! 

This post, alas, is not about office comforts at Nvidia. Instead I would like to share a startling revelation that struck me mid-way into last week.

The past couple of weeks had been rough. There was a lot of work and a LOT of meetings. And in between meetings, there was a ton of prep material to go over so that I could add my 2 cents to the meetings. Apart from this, I had my usual work load which suddenly started demanding a lot of preparation time. All this distilled down into my staring into a computer/phone/tablet screen for ~15 hours a day. If we add the dreams I dreamt about buying a macbook air and that number will go even norther. 

Staring at a computer screen can strain ones eyes badly. I particularly take care not to over-strain my eyes by taking plenty of coffee/ping-pong breaks in between. But working on a computer is NEVER just working! There is always my browser on with ~20 tabs open including the staples - facebook, twitter, quora. Also in the Always Open list are my favorite news sites such as BBC and The Verge. A Wikipedia Random Article loop runs through my browser every few hours. So there is that. Also open are the gamut of blogs that I follow.

As if only appealing to my visual senses were not enough, I am also on grooveshark for most of the day. If not online, my itunes will always be up and running. 

In between all this information overload, I work. And in between work, I also perform my 'truly random' browsing. 

After a long work day, I used to come back home, power on my laptop and the same routine began. Except, replace the work segments with Youtube. 

I love assimilating information. It does not matter if I will never need that titbit of info, I simply must know it! And the Internet gives me plenty and more. But occasionally, even for a news-junkie like me, the Internet starts to become overwhelming! 
That irritating itch to constantly check my facebook newsfeed, my twitter tweet-reel, my quora top answers page can become crushingly painful. There can come a point when one's life starts to seem more 'virtual' than a physical, living, breathing, crying and laughing entity. 

I hit that point mid-way through last week. 

Stung by that realization, I drastically told myself to stay off the Internet (except for work, STRICTLY work) for a month. Within an hour, I broke my own word. The truth is without the Internet, we are all diminished people. If I tried reading the newspaper, without the internet, I can comprehend maybe 50% of the articles. With the Net, that number zooms to +80%. So if you want to do something well, the Net is a must today.

The next day, I watered down my previous resolution into a very simply worded sentence.
'For the next one month, before going to bed, I shall read. No phone. No tablet. No computer. No internet. Just me and my book. Whatever I do not understand, I will note down for future clarification.'

I decided to rekindle an old school-days habit of mine to combat my Net-affliction. 

I will not lie. It was not a hard resolution to upkeep. I enjoy reading and I can comfortably keep off the Net for an hour. I have been resolutely following this self-mandate for close to a week now and things are looking good :) 

I am starting to notice some really interesting things emerging from this experiment which I hope to share with you all in my next post. (Hopefully within a few days!)
 

Selling Stereotypes

Stereotypes are everywhere. From the first day at primary school depending on what you wear to first day of college, depending on where you sit, people judge you. They judge you for the color of your skin, the accent of your voice, the color combination of your dressing and the place you call home. It is natural. It is life.

I have been prey to my fair share of stereotypes. Tam Brahm, nerd, geek, Madrasi, ass-hole, etc. To be honest, stereotypes hurt. Each person prides on being so many things. I believe that each human being is so much more than the some of his/her parts but stereotypes do not allow for that. Stereotypes insist on reducing a person to a few crass terms. But as I said before, stereotypes are not going to go away because to judge is a primal instinct of our species.

In some ways, stereotypes can also be fun! Among friends, stereotypes often become affectionate terms of endearment! They stand for the exclusive bond we share with that person. For example, in college we used to call one of our friends as 'Thambi' (the derogatory term in NIT Trichy for a Tamilian). This was appalling because many of us who were calling him that were also Thambis, but we never used that term in a hurtful manner! Yes, if that person did something outrageously Tamil, then we will pass a remark or two but as I said before, he knew it and we knew it, it was in good humor and respect.

But when stereotypes are passed and accepted between people who don't know one another, then they become recipes for disaster.

The shocking case of Sunanda Sen in NYC chills one's bones. A man whose only fault in life was waiting for the subway train to take him home after a hard day at his copying business. Little did he know, that right behind him, an evil woman had judged him from the color of his skin and assumed him to be a Muslim terrorist. He was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time and had fallen prey to a wrong stereotype! A life was brutally crushed under the weight of stereotypes and train wheels.

Stereotypes are dangerous! They are just a stone's throw away from racism. Especially in a country like India which is a melting pot for every caste, creed, religion, color and language, stereotypes are like ticking time-bombs. As a country, we must realize that stereotypes are not worth the few moments of baseless laughter that they seem to give! Sadly, we seem to be doing the exact opposite of it! Today stereotypes sell films. From Punjab to Tamil Nadu, stereotypes are the staple for 'masala' films.

It is a pity that even the so-called Badshaah of Bollywood seems to need picking on Tamil stereotypes for his movies. No, Mr.SRK, we Tamilians do not eat noodles with curd. And we certainly do not insert ayyos into every line. And, I can't believe I am saying this, but we do not all wear lungis and go bare-chested.

Unfortunately we don't take such stereotypes at face value and often end up judging an entire race of people by such silly antics that you chose to magnify in a distorted manner.

I consider actors to be ambassadors of a country and her people to the whole world. But more importantly, you are bridges that connect people within the country. India is a diverse land with very few common themes connecting us. One of the bridges that joins us as one people is our joint celebration of talent and genius. We never cheered for Sachin as Tamils or Marathis or Bengalis. We cheered as Indians. We did not celebrate KBC for just Big B - the Hindi superstar. We loved the show for its quality and the over-whelming humility of that great man.

Reducing people to a few terms may appeal to the baser sentiments of the masses and sell you more tickets, but remember, you will never be cherished for it. Nobody will remember Rani Mukherji for her revolting Dreamum Wakupum song, instead we will cherish her poignant performance in Black.

We Tamilians love our stereotypes. We bear a man who is the grand capital of stereotypes - Rajnikanth as our mascot and our face. Even when the bulk of the country chooses to club entire races of people, each with cultures stretching backwards to thousands of years, as 'Madrasis', we just choose to shrug it off and move on. Some of us even share with a chuckle.

To conclude, in the words of that lecherous dwarf - "Let me give you some advice, bastard: Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you."

Ayyo, so my Tamil machas-a, let us-a go-a bare bodied-a with-a lungis-a to office-a tomorrow-a.

Okay? Mind it!

The New Year Conundrum

When it comes to western 'new-age' celebrations such as New Years Eve and Valentine's Day, the whole world seems to split right-down the middle into two vociferous groups. On one side we have the Faithful who abide by the ceremonious nature of the event by plunging into parties and booze. On the other side, we have the Doubters who suspect these holidays to be Machiavellian schemes of corporates to sell you things that you will never need or do you any good.

As always, there is a third side. People like me who prefer to passively crib about these events while silently wishing for a better life in the days to come.

New Years is just around the corner now and Bangalore is decking herself up beautifully. From merry decorations on store-fronts to people hitting the shopping trails for last minute purchases of gym-wear for their New Year resolutions, Bangalore, the city of young believers, is a busy hub of activity. 

As I sit in an empty office wondering what to do on New Years Eve, I can't help but feel this sense of excitement within me. Why? I dont know. 

I do not expect life to be much different tomorrow as compared to today, just because it is a new year. But still, unbeknownst to me there is this ... hope. I am neither a glass-half-full nor empty person, I just see a glass of water as a glass of water. So I don't think I can dismiss this excitement as just optimism. So what is this phenomenon? This silent urge within us to expect the new year to bring great pleasures and adventures? This silent resolve we make within ourselves to make our lives better and more meaningful ? This maddening desire to make loud resolutions only to break them within a week? 

Time is a funny thing. It keeps going but we never notice it till its gone for good. I have always loved the idea of imagining time as a massive flow of water - sometimes as a river, sometimes as an ocean. It resembles a massive infinite river in its ceaseless journey towards an unknown, imaginary ocean while it resembles an ocean because time is infinite. Whether you subtract one year or thousands of years from it, time remains infinite. 

We never notice it when time flows past us in our everyday lives. Wasting one hour of a day is nothing big and all of us routinely do it. But somewhere down the line, each individual makes this call on 'how much time wasted' is 'wasted enough'. Just how much time should we have wasted to realize that time is valuable? Personally, its a day for me. At night, before hitting the bed, if I feel that I had not done anything productive that day, I tend to sleep a guilty sleep with plenty of nightmares. I know people who have a much lower and a much higher threshold for wasted-time. 

I think a New Year is like the cleaning of the slate to all our 'time-wasted' accounts. Irrespective of how much time we have wasted in the previous year, it allows us to throw that away from our minds just as we throw away one calender and get the next one. It allows us to relish the opportunity of spending the next 8760 hours better than the previous 8760 hours. Come to think of it, every New Year Resolution is just an inheritance of the basic resolve - 'Spend your time better'. 

New Years Eve is that momentous moment in the lives of 7 billion people who subconsciously reflect on the time wasted and take stock of the passage of this massive river that underpins our lives and consciousness. New Years Eve is a festival in dedication of time. Ever since the notion of time was recognized by Man's mind, we have needed this time to do some 'spring-cleaning' and prepare ourselves for a better future. 

This New Years, I promise myself just one thing - 'Spend my time better' 

Seems like a tougher resolution to break than something like 'Put your garbage out in the morning on time' :)

Coffee table take on reflections

I got a chance to meet a college friend today for coffee. As always, it is great fun to meet people you know and catch up :) Soon we were talking about things we did in college and things we want to do, now that we are out of it. She is very interested in education. It seems she had spent a large chunk of her final year teaching underprivileged children and she had employed some unusual tactics to get them interested. They were quite fascinating... One of her exercises was asking the students to record every emotion that they felt during the day. Even though this sounds like a ridiculously easy thing to do, upon careful thought, I realized that this was a potential mine-field! 

"How do I feel ?"

This is one of the eternal questions of life. Sure, you can substitute a mundane reply to this question eg after lunch, you can say you are feeling full or after running in the field all day, you are feeling tired etc. But feelings are not decided just by the activity or inactivity of the previous hours. I think feelings are more complex than just being the shadow of the world upon our minds. 

My friend had been teaching 9-12 year olds and I think that's the age that we start to inquire about things. For kids younger than that, life appears like passing along through the windows of a moving train. Forever adrift and filled with wondrous images but they never stop to inspect much. More importantly, they don't stop to reflect on how the world has affected them. Kids start doing that when around 9-10 years old. They start asking questions about why they like this color or dislike that fruit. They start questioning about household rules and arguing against dos and don'ts. They start to question the world in a most delightfully innocent way. That process of reflection and analysis continues to grow and flourish for the rest of their lives. 

One thing that struck me immediately was that our feelings towards an incident or a place are not constant. They keep changing and evolving as more experiences enter into the melting pot that is our mind. For example, a song that I found myself loving when I was in high school, visibly mortifies me today. 

Blah. I am rambling. Asking to record every emotion of the day is a tricky business. Maybe if there was a way to map the different emotions you have over time towards a particular thing, you can then draw an emotional spectrum for it. This emotional spectrum can then be compared with people of similar age-groups from different parts of the world. It will provide insights into the emotional digestion of stimuli by people across the world. I am sure that will make for a fascinating study. 

One emotional spectrum that comes to my mind is a rather morbid one. But it does prove a point. But I wonder whether something similar will be feasible for more mundane things such as a flavor of ice cream. 

Today Twitter offers an exciting way to study public perceptions and emotional responses. Even though it may not be individualistic, but it is a great estimate for collective emotional feedback. Apart from providing great entertainment value, twitter is fast becoming an emotional reservoir for mankind. And I am sure a lot of research will take notice of it. 

One of the fundamental characteristics of us humans, is that we reflect on the world around us. Out of such reflections, we arrive at character definitions. From good character stems the urge to act. From actions alone, do we change the world. Mapping emotions can definitely help us understand this cycle better and figure out what makes a genuine, concerned and caring individual. 

Dear Psy ... Why this Kolaveri?

Dear Psy from the Gangnam Style,

As I sit here, viewing your hit 'Gangnam Style' in a, frankly, senseless desire to help it become the first video on Youtube to hit the billion views mark, I can't help myself from wanting to ask you the question... 'Why this Kolaveri dude?'

I know that your song is a supposed parody on the high class neighborhood of Gangnam and its people, but hell, I did not know that for a long long time! I bet half of your millions of viewers still do know that!

So what have you done, you crazy Korean man, to make people all over the world watch your K-pop masterpiece and also, watch it over and over?

What are you trying to tell us? That you don't need to have the looks of a Ricky Martin or a Shakira to become a global music icon? Or that you don't need to have good music to become a global music icon?! While you were making those wacky horse moves during the shoot, did you expect that one day, folks from Barack Obama to the Wolverine will one day be swinging their legs in the same way? (Btw, I think that kid in the video is really cool! He's got spunk!)

I thought a little more about this and on one bleary-eyed occasion, it seemed that you are proof that God exists! Let's accept it, you are not exactly eye-candy material but I am guessing you are a rage among the women-folk now! So maybe there is still hope for dorky dancers such as me and millions more!

That brings me to another observation. Your signature move is now so famous that it can even rival MJ's Moon Dance in popularity... As blasphemous as that sounds to MJ fans including me! But you are a stroke of genius even above MJ! Ban Ki Moon would never have tried the Moon Dance! You need years of practice to get the Moon Dance right while all it takes to do The Gangnam Style are a few shots of booze! Genius.

Apart from being mind-blown when I first saw your video, the adjective that immediately came to my mind about the Gangnam Style was - Loud. Everything is loud in your video dude! Your singing, your crazy suits, your hot dancer friends (btw, nice touch with that train pole dance sequence. Real classy!) and last but not the least, your dancing! But the funny thing was.. it was mesmerizing! When you were doing that weird (and a little disturbing) head bob sequence in that elevator under another's guys legs, I laughed away a head bob of my own! When you were shouting at that girl's bottom in the beach, I was cheering you on! While you were dueling with the Yellow Guy/Girl (not sure till date!) in that underground garage, I almost flipped out!

Eventually, the whole Gangnam phase went off and I moved on with life as usual... until I heard that your video was fast approaching Baby Bieber's Baby, in terms of views on Youtube. Even though it was my hatred for Baby B that made me watch your video again and again that day, I must admit, there was a tinge of grudging admiration and love for you as well.

So today, you have a billion views! Congrats! :)
I can't say you don't deserve it! In a year of many tragedies, environmental disasters, wars and shootings, your mad dance has certainly brought a smile to millions.
You have horse-danced your way into Musical Hall of Fame. Keep dancing on, you round Korean Superstar! Keep dancing on!

Cheers!
Fellow Horse Dancer.

PS : Just out of curiosity, how did the horses react when you were doing the move in front of them? One of them seemed pretty pissed off in the video!

The trial for India's soul

Two days back a 23-year old medical student and her friend saw a movie and got into a private bus around 10 pm in Delhi. Little did they know, that their evening would take such a turn for the horrific. Within minutes, the 6 males inside the bus started verbally and physically abusing the girl and her friend. The girl was snatched away, gang-raped and repeatedly beaten with an iron rod on her abdomen. They finally threw the semi-naked couple on the streets. While this crime was going on, the bus driver was calmly driving the bus around the streets of India's capital including crossing three police patrol points.

Is this the country I want to call home?

Gang-rape is not unusual in this country. Every once in a while, we come across men who turn into beasts and throw all regard for human life and decency to the wind for a few minutes of savage pleasure. But still such a brazen violation of every tenet of human dignity inside our own National Capital is a chilling reminder of the sickness that resides in the hearts of some Indian men.

Hinduism, the major religion of this country, places women on a supreme pedestal. Even Vishnu is identified by the Vedas by the position of his consort within his heart. How can such degenerate, vile minds flourish within a country that cherishes her women? We have had women Prime Ministers, Presidents, Chief Ministers, Judges and Bureaucrats, why can't we make India safe for women even after all this?

The opposition is obviously gunning for the Delhi Government and for the lives of the perpetrators of this heinous crime. For a change, I whole-heartedly support it. The Delhi Government has miserably failed in protecting its women and has played a crucial role in the transitioning of our Capital into the Rape Capital of India.

Capital punishment for rape or gang-rape will no-doubt make many lawyers and human rights activists queasy. Leave alone 'rarest of the rare', such incidents are no longer even 'rare' in India. They will undoubtedly object to making scapegoats of just these criminals to teach a wider lesson. While there are valid concerns from either side, I believe that this incident should be taken in a wider perspective. This is not just about justice for this one girl. This is a trial for India's soul. How many more young girls must be devoured before we wake up? I consider rape to be a greater assault on the right to life than even murder.

Public humiliation of the perpetrators of this crime will undoubtedly appease many sections of the public, but that alone is not enough. Heads must roll in the establishment of the government and the police. Let each and every police constable on his rounds remember that he will not survive another rape within Delhi.

Education is often cited as the tool to weed out the animalistic tendencies of the human mind. But I strongly believe that irrespective of education, tradition and culture, vermin will always exist. It is up to us to root them out. These are people who will claim to be protecting 'Indian culture' while raping innocent women.

Let us not let such people hold our souls in ransom. Let us snatch away the soul of this country from them. Let us show them that even though India has a high toleration level for crime, touching our women and children is where we draw the line - a strong, inviolable line. 

A lie away from being truthful

We all lie. To even claim otherwise would be a lie and lead us back to my first statement. Since lying is such a universal thing, it has never bothered me much. I lie just as much as a normal human being does. When my mother asks me if I had a healthy dinner, I lie. When my Project Guide asked me for my status, I lied and aggrandized my position. When my office mentor asks me if I had gone through that presentation, I lie and say that I did so while in reality I did not even know the presentation existed. Lying is something we do with such alarming regularity and normalcy that quite often we do not realize it when we lie.

But nothing lasts good, forever. Even an inveterate stalwart liar does slip up eventually and his lie is uncovered. So for normal humans such as you and I, the chances of getting caught are much higher. As children, still novices at this ancient art, we used to get caught a lot more! From the days of the proverbial Johny, we all used to steal sugar and then deny it too! One of my earliest memories of my own childhood is a rather sombre one. While playing with my G.I.Joes one day, I tried to make one of the Joes perform an Olympic somersault followed by a Canon blast. The ensuing projectile flew across the living room and rammed into the glass showpiece. The sharp pitched crash that followed brought the whole house to my scene of crime. My mother vigorously started checking if I had any glass pieces on me and once I had been certified 'glass-less', the scoldings began. But I refused the whole thing! I claimed that I had been very far away from the showpiece (which was true as my projectile had managed to cover an impressive range! Strange how I sucked at shot-put in school though) My mother started scolding me more for lying but I still steadfastly stood to my story. Finally my father who usually protects me when my mom goes ballistic stepped in and gave me a tight slap with a warning - 'Never lie'. I went to sleep crying that night still claiming innocence.

Looking back at that event after all these years, what surprises me is not the fact that my usually calm father got so enraged over my lying but that even when all the odds were stacked against me and my flimsy tale, I still stuck with my lie!! Why did I do that? To save me from loss of face? I don't think I was old enough to even appreciate that I had any face in my family! I mean these are all people who had seen my actions in a diaper, how much face could I possibly save after all that?
No, I think that somehow we human beings are deeply wired to stick to our lies. For a moment, just compare this with the conviction that people show towards the truth. During discussions with friends, on many occasions, I knew that what they were saying was wrong and that what I knew was the truth, but still I usually do not speak it out loud for fear of hurting their feelings.

Let me tell you about this one time when I saw a guy at school put dirt into another guy's tiffin box.  I did not know either of them, so no question of partiality there. But when my teacher asked who had done it, I kept quiet. Why did I not speak out the truth? What if the teacher had directed that question right at me, would I have reacted differently? I highly doubt it. I would have just said I did not see anything.

Standing up for the truth is one of the most romantic and most venerated of all ideals. Be it religion or atheism, truth is often the most ideal of ideals. And yet, it is such a treacherous one. Why is it so difficult to be more truthful in our everyday lives? Practical people often say that man is a selfish and rational creature. Between lies and the truth, he will pick the option that offers him greater rewards. Religion makes this simple reasoning much more complex by the idea of 'short-term' and 'long-term' rewards. Would you lie to save your face for ten minutes or say the truth and preserve the purity of your soul for eternity? Now that's what you call a loaded question!

If humans were meant to be truthful beings then why is it that right from childhood when we are supposed to be pure and innocent, we show greater disposition towards sticking to our lies rather than our truths? Are humans supposed to be intrinsically flawed creations who lie or speak the truth as they will? Are we all such randomly programmed sentient beings? Is there no greater thing than the necessity of the now and recent future? I would like to think not. For no other reason than that it makes me feel nauseous to think so.

As I reflect more and more on my two anecdotes, I arrive at an interesting argument. Lying is often a deeply, deeply personal thing. It is so deeply intertwined within us that even though there is a conscious part of us which condemns lying, there is another cog that keeps the lying wheel rolling. And when our lies get exposed, we are more often that not, standing up for ourselves! To be more accurate, the part of us that condemns lying is forced to stand up for the incorrigible liar inside of us. But being truthful is a very tricky game. Truth is never a singular affliction. Truth requires you to stand up for everyone at the same time. You cannot be truthful to one person and dishonest with another at the same time in moral transactions. While lying is a many shaded dye, truth is always freshly starched white. It is a burdensome, absolute standard that we are asked to bear, not for ourselves but for everybody, while lying is simply you carrying your own water. Even a child knows which is the easier task.

Just because lying is easier to defend, does this imply humans prefer lying? That is a risky question and I would not like to imply such causality. All I will say is that even wannabe truthful people often lie because it is easier to deal with.

A society where everyone shared my pessimistic viewpoint would be a starved one without doubt. All societies have been blessed with a few individuals who perform not just their expected moral duties but also stand for absolutes such as their faith in Truth. Mahatma Gandhi believed in no Law higher than the Truth and lived his life based on that conviction. Theists will agree on Dharmaputra's umbilical and sometimes strained connection with the Truth during even extreme hardships. Common folks will always empathize or more likely sympathize with Raja Harishchandra. Such people inspire us. They make us strive to live tomorrow as slightly better people than we are today. They are the crepuscular rays on our cloudy lives. Truth is a rigged game which offers a much simpler shortcut of lying. We have the power to choose. As they say, it is in moments of choice that the autonomy of Man is asserted. Nature or God lets you assert yours when you break glassware and look up to angry faces.