Letters – 922

Letter 8 / 3 Nov 2018. On Cricket.

This is an edited version of a letter than I sent to a closed mailing list. I try to write one everyday to a select set of people. Should you want to get one in your mailbox, please do let me know. The first letter is here. A complete archive is here.
So, I played cricket today. Properly. Bowled, batted and all that. Must have played after a year. And back then, about a year ago, when I played, I would’ve played after decades. With a S. More than one. Serious.

Here are the things that I take away from the experience. Lol. Experience 🙂

A. I enjoy physical activity. I love to move around.
And contrary to what people close to me believe, I am not inherently lazy – its the heat that has made me lazy. And I hate wearing shoes or too many clothes. If I could live in a cold country, I promise I would dress up well and even wear shoes. And I would love to move around.

B. My game sucks.
Of course there are no surprises. If it dint suck, I wouldnt be here. Writing about the experience. But today, it sucked so bad that I am embarrassed. Well, I have never been a batsman but I used to be a pretty handy bowler. And I was a brilliant fielder if nothing else. While I bowled ok today, and batted as expected, I was probably the worst fielder that I have ever been. There was no hand-eye coordination, something that I have been proud of all my life. I MUST improve. And no, I cant really “practise” but I need to get better. May be if I get regular things will improve?

C. My fitness sucks more than I suck at the game.
If I dont get regular and dont improve, I guess it will be ok. I am anyway way past my prime and I cant even imagine playing at the highest levels. But the game today made me realise how unfit I am. And at all levels. Thankfully I wasnt really panting (maybe I dint run too much?) but I couldve run faster, been more agile, fielded better! And after the game, each part of the body was hurting. And hurting as in HURTing. If I had a “functional” home, I would have sprayed myself all over with some painkiller or something. I even wished I had a masseuse to ease the pain. And although its past 11 (and thus about 12 hours since the game ended), my ankles, tendons, calves, knees and the back still hurt like crazy. Well, the Achilles tendon and the knee’s been giving me problems for some time but the calf and the back is new. Side note. When I wear the Nike sneakers, the pain is little bearable. I need to wear them more often, once the weather becomes bearable.

In fact, here’s a lesson. Things that connect you to the ground (Earth), you MUST not compromise and invest into getting the best possible alternative.

A few things that “connect” you to the ground are mattress (and the bed), shoes, chairs, footwear etc.

I dont recall where I read this first but more I think about this, more sense it makes. Its cool if you want to buy a cheap phone, shabbily made dress etc. But your feet take the most of the grunt in the day. You better have great shoes. And no, not fancy or goodlooking ones. But functional ones. And the only two brands that I recommend are Nike and Crocs. Ditto for mattress. And chair. Think about it. Use logic.

D. I love my mornings! I may claim to love nights but I love my mornings even more. To the point that the day my mornings dont go as per plan, the entire day is wasted. Take today for example. In my scheme of things, mornings are not meant for exercise et al. But then a game like Cricket requires a team and for most others, morning is where fitness takes priority!

Coming back. The days I cant get up early and step out of the house and get some things done, I feel terrible and the entire day gets “wasted”. I mean today, all I have done is write for a bit, worked on SoG for a bit and agonised in the pain inflicted by the minuscule amount of cricket that I played!

If I were to club A, B and D, I need to probably find a sport that makes me move around and can be played at afternoons. Or late evenings.

And you could try and understand if you are a morning person or a night person. How do you find out? Not through what you love. But as Charlie says, invert! Question to ask yourself is, “fucking what part of the day affects you the most?” For me, its the morning! You?

E. Sports bonds people like nothing else.
The people I played with, they were probably aged between 20 and 45. And from different backgrounds, interest areas, personalities, varying degree of proficiency and all that. But while playing, most of them had the single-minded focus of the game. And they could do whatever for their team to win. They dint think about their differences and they came together to focus on the game!

Can I take lessons and use sports as as tool to make my team at C4E and all other initiatives more tight-knit?

I have seen team-building games in action at most of the events that I have worked on as an event manager but most clients do it as mere lip-service. They do it once a year and hope for miracles. Can I use create an ongoing intervention that makes my team come closer? Need to think.

And, having said that, I know that sports can also create great divides. I saw it happen today. And we all know about “enmity” between fans of competing teams! So, need to put some thought!

So yeah, thats about it for the day.

Over and out.

Dear sgMS,

I am back! Did you miss me? ~~Of course not~~ May be (this year, I am going to be ambitious, as a friend told another). Did I miss you? Hell yeah! No moment goes by when I dont think of you, about you, about the times we were together. And I wish those days could be back.

You know, ~~as I write this~~ when I wrote this, I am was at the international airport, taking a flight to Delhi. And because my domestic flight is from the international airport, I am surrounded by all these signs that point to all these fancy destinations and all these people going to all these fancy destinations. It suddenly dawned on me that I want to travel the world with you. I want to hold your hand while I am lost in those cramped alleys in Europe, when I am marveling at the national parks in the US, when I am lost on some highway somewhere in Australia, when I am up in the air heading to one of these fancy destinations, when I am scared to jump off the plane for my maiden skydive and so one and so forth. I want to click stupid selfies on top of the Eiffel tower. I want to sit on the benches on the river fronts. I want to laze at the airports. I want to listen to the music lying the hotel rooms. I want to be close to you in a crowded local train. I want to sneak in to your bed at some hostel while the floor creaks and wakes up everyone around. And I dont know how many more such things.

You know I want it all. And more. For the rest of my life.

Remember I wrote you a letter on our last trip? I know it was kind of long – it spilled over into 4 pages – and I had a hard time cutting it short. With you around, there is just so much to say. So much to do. So many memories to make.

You know, I want to grow old with you. I want to stuff a house with things that we may or may not need. A friend says most women are hoarders and like most women, you are too. I want to see you hoard all those things that I otherwise do not approve of. I want to live with you in a cosy house (I know you dont like lavish places) and I want us to frequent a cafe close to our place and do our things – you could doodle and I could play the guitar. I want us to argue over those simple silly things like giving my PIN to the waiter for punching my bill. I want you to yell at me for all my careless mistakes like leaving my card back at the restaurant. I want to fuck up the pronunciation of Parpal and February. I want you to correct me while I give you reasons for my wrong pronunciations. I want to do all those things that people do over their lifetimes.

Thing is, this is new to me. I have never imagined that I would be old. I know that I have missed the bus and I wont be richer or cooler or famous ever. I will at best be a typical mango man and I may get to drive a nice car and own a 2-and-a-half BHK in some far-off suburb in Mumbai but I will never be what I have wanted to be. But if somehow that makes you happy and content and peaceful, I think I am ok with it. I realize that I will not be forever young and I will be forgotten the next second I die. The thing thus is, while I am here, I want to be with you and make the most of my time here. That’s all there is to life I think (selfish I know).

But this is about you. Not about me. So coming back, I want to be with you and grow old with you. I want to be around when you get those spects. I want to hide your spects and hold up two fingers and lie that I am holding up three. I want to pull your cheeks and scream googly woogly mush. I want you to cook something and make a face at you while you croon in horror and then laugh at you. Oh man, there is so much that I want to do with you..

You know what? I cant write no more. I miss you so bad it hurts!

I do!

Hope you come back.
SG

P.S.: I did not cheat on you. I promise I did not. Tere sar ki kasam.

Dear Nature

Dear Nature,

Before I get into a long drawn rant about things that I want to crib today, I want to thank you. Thank you for a lot of things, including and not limited to, the wonderful life that we are very attached to, the rains that always brings the best of my moods out, the mountains that I love to explore, the cool breeze that elevates my spirits, the diversity in individuals that makes us what we are, the thumb that made us different from our cousins, the absence of the tail that helped us walk straight, the curiosity and more than that the ability to actually chase the questions that trouble us. Thank you. Really I mean it.

Now, that the mandatory disclaimer is done, today I want to talk about something that you think it was required, but I think is inane. I understand when we were nomads and hadn’t discovered fire and invented the wheel, we needed to fend for ourselves. A thick coating of hair helped us keep warm. Apart from being the protective coating, it gave us a natural cushion while we were sleeping. And some people even say that it helped us save ourselves from mosquitoes at night. Whatever your reasons may have been, I humbly want to submit that they are not really required now. With global warming and other things that have made planet warmer, we dont really need hair to keep warm.

You know what bugs me the most? The fact that I need to ~~cut~~ trim them every once in a while. Everyone knows that you, nature, by the very nature, are unfair. You’ve given very few people a lot of things and a lot of people nothing. So while some people have awesome hair, people like me have hairlines that are receding as fast as Usain Bolt can run those 100 meters. In fact imagine the plight when you goto a barber and ask him for a haricut. He also smirks at you and tortures you by asking the style you want to cut your hair into.

The plight bit is fine. I am used to people staring at my bald head and cracking jokes. The bit I cant tolerate is the fact that I need to maintain the hair frequently. You need to get a haircut once a month. Trim your beard once every few days. For a change I thought that let me be supremely lazy. I shall not trim my beard and let it grow. I dont mind what people think or say but since my work requires me to fly often, and security at airports in India is bonkers, I am stopped multiple times at each airport and every guard like man eyes me like I am on the most wanted list of Interpol, RAW, Delhi Police and other intelligence agencies. I am often frisked multiple times, bags searched to the seam, asked rude questions and made to strip to my birthday suits. And not to mention the personal frisking. And why all this? Because I refuse to shave, because my facial hair cant stop growing, because someone, at God’s decided to humor himself by giving us men hair.

I know I cant do jackshit about it now. I can only ignore all those wise-ass comments from barbers and continue being humiliated. But I do have a request. A humble one at that. I shall live my life in whatever way but from the next generation on, could you please do something about hair? And nails for that matter!

Yours,
One of your out of favor childs’

Aug 02: Dear Humans

Dear Humans,

Before anything else, without any further ado, let me clarify. I did not cross the road. Not this road. Not that road. Not any road for that matter. And I never thought about crossing any roads ever. And I checked, my cousins also, had no fancy thoughts of doing such a ridiculous thing. And nor my forefathers and their forefathers. No one is interested in your roads. No one in my family and extended family wants anything to do with you guys and your roads. You may please keep them to yourself and create your own jokes.

You see, we are peace loving … things. We just want to be left alone, to do out little jig with the torso, the neck, the beak and the chicken dance. I know you guys must find it amusing, the way we bump our head into ground all the time. But then like us, you guys have tons of rituals that our race hasnt been able to understand. I mean what could be so interesting about a naked, saffron loincloth clad man, dancing in weird postures that lakhs of women try and imitate all his actions? What happens on that night every year when you guys almost burn the entire city down with so much fire and lighting that it actually hurts.

May be it hard to believe for you guys, but we do have sleep cycles. We dont really have those REM cycles but we do have our chicken cycles and we need to spend a large part of our lives sleeping. And when we sleep, we want to sleep in peace. In one piece.

Thats grudge no. 2 btw. The last letter, listed in great detail, the tortures that every single one of us goes through all the time. The impending cage. Ofcourse it is really tough to spot your relatives in that huge a bunch of while haired things, all looking the same. The lucky ones reach the pressure cookers fast and they happily melt away with all the spices and gravy. The unlucky ones, us, the ones looking at all those of us being carried away, that sight is scary.

The next on agenda is all those filthy cartoon films. Do we really look that yellow? that furry? that tiny? that fragile? Do we deserve to be sold at traffic signals? And not just sold, but renegotiated on and bickered about. And its not even a genetic clone. It is made up of plastic! I know you guys are 7 billion and we are mere a few thousands but this is no way to treat us. If Noah had his way, you and us would have been in equal number. And since we dont have to wait for 9 months to produce the next generation, we would have grown faster. Mmmm, that could have been interesting. Imagine the menu reading butter aadmi, aadam musallam, aadmi changezi, aadam shawarma etc.

So, I am short on time. I understand that roads hold a special place in your life, lores and development. They connected you guys and helped moved faster. They allowed movement of people, things, thoughts and stories. Including the one about me crossing the road. I mean, who could even think of it? And why? Can you even imagine a chicken on the road?

Guys, can we please cut it out? Dont you guys think you have stretched this one, a little too much? Isnt the joke now too old, too predictable and too boring?

Sincerely,
The Chicken

This is day 03 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.

Why do people blog?

So SG26Jul asked me a few questions about blogging. I realized that I dint really have ready answers so I took a day off from work and wrote the answers down. Since I believe that I am a storyteller and I like to create background on things, the answers would be a bit verbose. And obviously dotted with armchair psycho-analysis.

So why do people write blog?
There are certain needs that are innate to every human being. Hunger, sleep and sex are the ones that everyone more or less knows about. Apart from these, there are certain other things that humans have craved for ever since they discovered that thumb has a different axes than the fingers and found the tail missing. Off all of those, there is this need for expression that humans find hardest to curb. So they have tried to express themselves with whatever they can, on any medium they could, whenever their time permitted. Case in point, the paintings found in prehistoric caves.

Also, more than mere expression, most humans, at least the ones who think that they think, want to leave their thoughts and reactions behind. They want to chronicle and archive things that they saw or experiences they lived. And some want to test their understanding and get opinion from other people on what they had to say.

And thus, I believe, started the use of walls, mud slabs, bark, paper, typewriters and eventually computers. To express thoughts and idea, to store memories and to share views.

In the modern world when nobody has time and relationships have taken a more functional meaning than emotional, blogging helps people to take care of these three needs. More than that, on a simpler level, blogging gives people a platform that they can stand on and yell. Blogging gives people a ready audience. Blogging gives people a shot at their fifteen minutes of fame. Blogging gives a chance encounter with listeners. Blogging gives people a chance to stand up for a cause that they identify with. Blogging helps gather people who are like you and helps you get more social. Blogging helps you find friends that you can never find in real life. Blogging helps you build conversations. Blogging gives people closure. And trust me it does, blogging gives people a reason to exist.

Whats the deal about bombarding online visitors with opinions and personal stuff?
First and foremost, not all blogs are personal. They are just reactions to experiences. Second, a blog allows you to express your view on something. And your view could be flawed, could be wrong, could be spot on, could be whatever. When you put it on a blog and someone adds to it, your view may change. You may see your error, or you may reinforce what you were saying, but it adds value. Blogging allows experts to emerge. Earlier you required degrees and years of experience to cut teeth. Now anyone who has spent enough time on something can take on any so called expert. Earlier, without a blog, your thoughts could only reach a handful of people. Now you can reach people all over the world and get their feedback. Its all about the feedback loop. Idea is to create a lot of positive feedback loops around your life and if you can do that you would see yourself spiraling into a different orbit all together! Try it!

Why do people read blogs? What about peeping into strangers life?
Simple answer. Answer is actually a question. Why is Big Boss popular? What gives people pleasure when they see lives of second (even third) rate pseudo-celebrities crib (or fight, battle etc) it out in a closed house riddled with cameras? We are voyeurs. And we like to control. A big boss, a blog, it gives me a peep into someone else’s life. I can remain behind a veil and know everything about that person. It gives me a sense of power. Remember the way you played with your Barbie doll when you were a kid? You wanted to control everything about it? Ok, it may be too harsh (even arbit) to compare a blog and a Barbie but I hope you get the drift.

And thinking about this as a non-philosophical answer, people read blogs because of the same reasons why people write blogs. People want to meet other people who share similar views. People want to know opinions of others. People want to give feedback. People want to follow. In fact its easier to find people who are followers as compared to find people who are leaders. Every human being wants to attach themselves to a cause, to a leader. Blogs are yet another way to get attached to a cause. Sorry for drifting into armchair psychology again. Coming back, people read blog because they think that bloggers are real people, belting real things, real thoughts on the web. Because they see security in numbers. Because they want to get associated with more people who are like them.

Arent people self-absorbed and strong believers of their opinions?
You would be surprised to know that how fickle people are and how easy it is to influence their judgment. You would be surprised to know how many people are NOT self-absorbed deep inside. Everyone is looking for gratification. Everyone is looking for affirmation. Why do people spend hours in getting the right look? Why do people spend thick wads buying perfumes? Why do people like Baba Ramdev and Osho get those millions followers? Why do we want to know idiotic details about anyone who is famous? Everyone wants grounding. Everyone wants a base station. Everyone, though is self absorbed, looks for ways to avoid being proved wrong in front of others. All our lives, we live the way others want us to live. Why are rebels, called rebels? Why are they outcast? Why do we frown upon outcasts? Pertinent question. Why do people blog and do they really care what others say if they are self-absorbed et al. I wish I had an answer. I only have a rhetoric to offer.

Do they care about starting debates?
They don’t. They just want to look good. They just want to be seen as standing for a cause. They just want to give themselves a reason for being. They just want to be happy about the way they are spending their time.

Ok, clarification. MOST don’t. Most want to just look good. There ARE lot of people who do it for reasons beyond self. There ARE people who are genuinely bothered and concerned about things. There ARE people who don’t want any mileage from what they do and they shy away from PR agencies and news reporters. There ARE people who do not goto Page 3 parties. Just that, I am yet to meet some.

P.S.: I am about to start something pro-bono! Its not a revolution but it is a public cause. Do I truly believe in it? Yes I do. Do I want to get famous? No I don’t. Am I a saint? No I am not. Why will I do it? I don’t know.

Why do people ask you to write a blog?
Simple answer really. You are super intelligent. You have the gift of the gab. You have a talent with words and language. You can express yourself well. You have an opinion on things. You are rational and emotional at the same time. With your emails, you reach out to a handpicked number of people. With a blog, you would reach out to lot more. Each extra person you reach out to, and gets into conversations with you, contributes to your learnings and experiences. As they say, a man is but a reflection of his experiences. And last but not the least, a blog would archive your thoughts and some day you may read back in time and see who you, your thoughts, your ideas, your view of the world changed over time. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, you have a moral responsibility towards the world, do it for all the other people that you will touch with your blog. Show them the path, o enlightened one!

Why do I write a blog?
To be honest, I don’t know. I have been doing this since 2004. Or may be 2003. I don’t remember. Its been a long time. Why did I start writing and why do I continue writing are two different questions. I started writing because I saw a friend write a blog in my college’s computer lab. It has to be 2003. I left that college in 2003. Anyways, those days, Internet was new to me. I wanted to have a page for myself on the Internet. I wanted to be famous. I started writing. Within days I realized I aint getting no famous for a mere blog. But by then I was hooked to talking out loud about things that mattered to me. I realized that I could rant and rant and nobody could stop me. It gave me adrenaline rush. Trust me, it did.

With time, it subdued. And then I realized how writing a blog has helped me. For beginners, it helped me structure my thoughts better. Every blog post took time to write. More I wrote, better I got at it. No I am not a JK Rowling or even a fraction of her. But I improved considerably. It made me think. Like this post. Every line has been thought about. It made me realize a few things about myself that I hadn’t thought of before I wrote this. Blogging helped me meet people and make friends with people I could have never been friends with. You know how boring I am in real life.

And on top of all the reasons, for person like me who likes doing a million things and cant stay with one thing for too long, this blog, has been the thing that I have done longer than anything else (apart from living!). Lets see how long this lasts.

And to end it, why don’t you try and write a blog for three months? And what about some feedback? See you in the evening!

Dear Anonymous Writer

Dear Anonymous Writer,

Thank you for your letter, which I must add, was very, moving, for want of the right word. My secretary, who has seen more world than Christopher A. Columbus, was in shivers when she delivered the letter to my desk. She held your letter the way first time mothers hold their newborns. With so much affection that you think the mere touch will hurt the baby. That you will leave permanent spots, ugly and dark ones, wherever you hold the baby from. Such was the shock on her face that I had to leave my putting practice for the charity golfing event next week and attend to her. And trust me, no man worth his salt wants to be interrupted while he is practicing putting. Who else would know if better than someone who uses the 9 iron!

Coming to the matter at hand, you obviously are talking about last week’s double homicide at Civil Lines. I must say that you have woven a very tight story around the evidence recorded at the crime scene. Even the 9 iron. Not even the real murderer would have known the things that you have shared with us. Like the 9 iron. The editor in my head wants to give credence to your letter and declare you the actual murderer. But then the skeptic in me is not allowing me to. And, over the years, I have learnt to go along with the skeptic whenever in doubt. On one hand, your letter could mean the story of the year and on the other, a shot for a Joe Nobody at his 15 seconds of fame.

Talking of Joe Nobodies, there are quite a few like you. You might be surprised to know that just my office has received about a dozen letters relating to the case, eerily similar to yours. May be because of exclusives we ran on the murders or may be because we were the only paper to have dug so much background information on the victim and his lonely life. In fact, the profession I am in, we are bombarded with communication from readers day in and day out. Most of it is the anonymous kinds. In the regular course of events, almost all of it finds its way to the trash can or the paper shredder almost immediately. If not for my secretary and her fear of golf clubs, especially the one that you claim that you put to use last week, your letter would either be resting in my dustbin, along with remains of the sandwich that I had for lunch or would be shredded into thin long paper strips and would have other pieces of unsolicited messages, office memos, even death threats for company.

However I must commend you on the beautiful prose that you have written. You obviously are a man with excellent literary talents. On a different day, I would have offered you an opportunity to intern and may be, just may be, one day, allow you to work here with me in my team and the newspaper that I spend my life building. As a fan of written word, I really want to share your letter with the world but since I respect the institution, the responsibility, the power of media, I will not. But then, I did send a copy to the police station. Trust me, howsoever burdened they might be with all the crime in the city, even they like reading fiction once in a while.

Finally, I would want to offer a piece of advice, before I go back to my practice. In my profession, anonymous letters are not really accorded as much respect. We ascribe anonymity to the writer’s inability to stand scrutiny and often doubt the intentions. Next time you exercise your right to freedom of speech and want to fulfill your unfinished childhood businesses or fantasies or whatever you call them, try using your real name. People tend to take you and your thought slightly more seriously.

I sincerely hope that you use your talents elsewhere and do something constructive! Please do let me know should you think I could be of some help. And please wish me luck for the tournament.

With Regards,
The Editor