ChintaMany's diary - page 6 ( The pressure builders)

 {The axiom that an idle mind is the devil's workshop, didn't foresee the possibility that it could also be a playground - for devils’ advocates!  - ChintaMany's diary page -5}

Knowingly or unknowingly, some people take it upon themselves to unsettle others. Honestly, if you ask them why they do it, more often than not you may end up being questioned, “did I do so?" and feign hurt. Before you bat your eyelids, they would have found another victim for their trade. Now, you may have questions- Who are they? And where they get to work? I think of them as pressure builders, and space and time do not constrain them. They might be from the family, relatives and friends. This generic malady might have infected me and you too, once or twice. 

Hospital:

The consulting room is crowded, and anxious patients are waiting patiently for the doctor to come. The pressure builder enters the room, eyes a known face and glides effortlessly through the throng. The patient looks up to find a familiar face and greets with a weak smile. This is enough for the pressure builder. He opens up his chronicle of diseases suffered and known to him, treatments that have succeeded or failed, cost of hospitalisation and medicines. Finally reveals, maybe he has made a wrong choice to consult this particular doctor. The patient who had come with a cold and body pain complaint hurries out with almost a mild palpitation. The patient's mind has managed to load kilograms of pressure, wondering what had gone wrong with that chronicler and the doctor? Now, you appreciate my point!

Travel:

Any family will plan a pleasure trip, keeping budget, free time and visit to a list of possible places of their interest. Everything goes smooth and travel arrangements get completed. In this serene atmosphere, an unseasonal mini low-pressure trough forms in the form of a well-wishing pressure builder. Acting as a seasoned traveller, he states picking holes in the itinerary, places selected for sightseeing, accommodation booked and not to forget about the likely inclement weather at those places at these times. He stopped short of calling it a foolish plan. Having done his duty, the well-wisher takes leave ending his surprise visit. Will it be hard to imagine the tension building up in household, already worried about other important things. 

Childcare:

Children often go a bit under-weather, as seasons change. No doubt the family will be paying utmost attention and initiating remedial measures. Naturally, visits to doctor, bottled medicines and other paraphernalia will also be taken care. Choosing this time, a pressure builder drops in, and in a few seconds, starts to highlight prevailing viral spread, acute cases in hospitals and the healthcare advisories doing the rounds. The pressure builder did not even bother to know what the nature of the illness is, the child is suffering with. In the wake of this unmindful trawling, the family promptly starts to view conflicting videos on all these highlights, and wallow in a pool of self-doubt. Like a ghost the highlighter disappears.

Schooling:

The future of children weighs heavily in the minds of parents and in this regard no stone is left unturned. Selecting suitable education stream and institution, transport and sports, fee structure and other incidental details are examined under a powerful microscope, to spot hidden pitfalls. Securing an admission depleted their energy and took a toll on the bank balance. When everything is done and dusted, a pressure builder walks in, chooses this time to offer alternatives spiked with criticism, points out is as a bad choice by them and takes leave after sowing seeds of doubts in the minds of parents. They wonder, why he came in uninvited and who asked him for an opinion and add a little more pressure upon themselves.

Interviews: 

The first step, getting into a professional stream, brings its own qualms, in the form of tests, call letters and interviews and tensions. The aspiring candidate and his or her nears and dears, sweat it out from different perspectives, to cross all the bridges successfully. Every one of them walk on thin eggshells, till an offer of appointment is received. On the D Day, the uninvited - a habitual soothsayer disguised as a well-wisher, lands amidst the family members. A long, and equally uninvited talk on rigged tests, casual call letters and finally eye-wash interviews, is delivered to unsettle everyone. His job done, taking cue from the stony silence that greeted his speech, the pressure builder hastily departs. 

The candidate leaves for the test, with trepidation and palpitation, imagining the worst.  You may question why the candidate should get upset like that. Mind is a complex machine and likes to work out screenplays and dialogues to keep it, self-busy, without your consent. It takes only a little push to disturb that equilibrium. This is the weak link the pressure builders exploit, naturally or by training - which is what, they only know. 

Self-goal player:

There is a V I P type of pressure builder - at home and in self. This type goes all out, to find hidden worries, regrets and failures to bolster the pressure build-up and won't rest till a bursting point is reached. This inner turmoil leads to friction with near and dear or friends and associates. The original type is driven by one up man-ship, bragging, know-all attitude and other pathological self-boost traits. Like high octane number in liquid fuels, this type carries a tag of high compression adrenalin content.

The pressure builders are so accomplished in their craft, even bystanders come unwittingly in to their hold. If you are wondering- the answer is a no, they have never heard of diplomacy and not known to use tact. They are driven by letting-the cat-out-of-the-bag syndrome. The question hanging in the air above all of our heads is - how to spot the species of pressure builders? Why the pressure builder always makes an uninvited appearance, at the last minute? 

What would happen, when some of these pressure builders themselves meet with a high-pressure builder, in an inappropriate moment? Would they be surprised or unsettled? Would, the lucky ones manage to find a way to avoid the overtures of that hyper pressure builder! Feel free, to share your practical wisdom.

Foot note: The tribe of pressure builders are equally populated with he, she and them.

ChintaMany's diary - page 5 ( Understanding protests)

 {No doubt the official machinery has starting troubles - reach site, visit the spot, get a fed on solid data, interview the personnel etc. Whereas the on-the-spot analyst relies on known information from similar mishaps. ChintaMany diary -page 4}

Why would anyone protest? And how does anyone find a reason or cause to protest? What is the deep-down motive for this? Is anyone capable of putting up multiple protests? How is conflict of interest avoided in protesting from too many platforms?                   

Imaginch, ever the progressive thinker (pardon his imagination), did not agree with the axiom that an idle mind is the devil's workshop. Rather, he believed that the axiom maker didn't foresee the possibility that it could also be a playground - for devils’ advocates! He did not consider this as a protest.

Idle mind or not, he wanted to appear and argue, as a pro bono advocate. For this purpose, he need not have to travel to a court's premises. With a pen and papers, he can let loose the arguments, for or against, to his heart's content.

Without actively searching for an issue – “protest"- presented itself, as clear as a day. He earnestly embarked on a fourth estate journey of print, electronic and mushrooming social media platforms to familiarise himself with the issue of protest. Pro bono is free service but, hard work. A bumper harvest of ‘protests’, including the agricultural variety, soon filled the storage space in his mind. A picture of plenty of arguments – for and against, emerged mirroring the conundrum of present-day protests. 

Relentlessly, he whittled them down as saleable or back-to-earth manure grade stuff.

When farmers in a few countries stage protests on roads, like armed soldiers going to war, they bring a convoy of farm machines. After all, these very machines that support them in the fields, should they not get a chance to participate in the protests of their owners?

What is the agenda? A section of farmers protest against low prices, high input and regulatory costs, cheaper imports and sales by supermarkets, contracted purchases, scarce operating funds etc. Whereas another section of protesters demand guarantee laws, monthly dole, free and subsidised input materials and waiver of norms with an inclusion, a seller determines the price and quality of the produce, at the procurement points.

Agricultural products produced at lower costs satisfy the supply and demand economics in some nations. On the other hand, higher production cost is a catch-22 situation owing to self-preserving environmental protection regimes. This is a self-inflicted wound, foisted upon the nation by their own protesting environmentalists, now grievous farmers point a bandaged finger elsewhere.  How can one from this set-up blame the others in a different setup? 

There is a third-party involvement, at least during some phase of protests - academics, sympathisers, retired officials, wannabe opinion makers. Vested interests, as the name suggests, support to fuel the protests. None of them have ever tilled a piece of land or suffered losses as a farming community but have enough wisdom to share around. With enough media coverage the protesters and negotiators reach out and stay stalemated. This is a vicious circle and both sides get tossed around till such time the 'who blinks first moment' comes and goes and only to reassemble after a year. This periodicity, predictable and curious, coincides with National elections, gets even foreign press coverage.

The world is a global village is a much-hyped advertising stunt. Here the hidden agenda is an outreach to exploit. Public-spirited protesters will travel to the protest site to lend moral support and set up media frenzy. Though their knowledge about that country is limited to Google Maps, if this agenda serves them to gain popularity, so be it! The protesters turn a blind eye to the fact these tool-kit Samaritans earn- make hay while sun shines. Is it not a farm activity!

For some nations, fueling protest is always a fair game, if on their back-foot. A fertile field for disruptive influences, to drag everyone down the path of helplessness, misery and sufferings. Their mechanism, to create a crisis, is to fund standby groups, that wreak havoc on the silent majority of the world. 

The mighty gets the armaments mill rolling to keep their home front benefitting - earn money without spending any in active combat. This is a proxy war. As soon as attacks and counter attacks begin, aligned, misaligned countries engage to broker peace deals, even if it involves terrorism. Public spirited protestors, for and against, go full throat in discriminatory rhetoric with guaranteed publicity. 

The population which is not affected eagerly waits for updates on loss of human life and cost if materials are destroyed. Strangely, the environmentalists wisely do not voice concerns or start their own protests, maybe because their meek voices will be drowned in the cacophony of a conflict.

The answer for the question when protests will end and when will it raise its head again is in how demands, denials and dabbling heed the wisdom of reasoning. 

Everyone has a demand thinking that the other has the key to the deadlock. Stepping into the other’s shoes or bare feet may help in better understanding of issues in proper perspective. If only all involved could step aside from the conflict zone and allow reason to speak - a fighting chance! Now, don't we have the key?

Having finished his write-up, without any other issue cropping up, Imaginch started searching for news outlets. Op-Ed, invited article, Opinion, independent opinion or under any other category to carry his views in print. Some public exposure...well he is not averse to it. Not even in his sleep, he played any part in any such protests. 

What sustains a protester?

The foundation is feeling wronged. Personal, empathy with or sympathy for others with a cause. This could end with a long protest march. 

Then, what ticks? For or against, positive or negative, discerning or swayed leads to two paths. One protesting for and the other one against. Put both sides in a spot, you have an agitated crowd. Add a few miscreants to this simmering pot, eruption of violence is imminent. This sort of protests leaves a scar. 

Protesters have a set of rules. If the public are not happy with it, they come up with different set of rules.

This like taking a complex problem and breaking it down to find solutions. Then combine all the individual solutions, you end up with the solution that is far more complex than the original problem.

The campus protesters, even if you are students of political science, will do well to remember - they got or been given an opportunity, undoubtedly denying someone else's chance. By protesting now, you are only wasting away your future, when you might be in a position to do something about issues. Can you protest against your parents, in the present time and get away with it? 

Nations at war, launch missiles, hurl explosives causing immense environmental damage. It is no wonder or mystery the vociferous environmental protesters take evasive measures and flee to safety. Though protest can be mounted at any time but not when missiles are raining down. Non-resident activists are like a painter with a bucket of paint and brush; smear the wall of protest with ugly strokes and retreat.

Parties face elections with time tested formulae and taking a cue, the protesters on various issues go with field-tested demands, time and again. No one wants to come up with a different formula. From the height of vocal towers, parties speak of agrarian distress and unemployment tsunami. Not even in dreams they think about doing something about them by investing personal efforts. A farmer is land locked with his crop but what prevents the farm workers from developing alternate skill sets to get employed. On the surface, it will look like creating competition among other wage earners. In reality it will not be so as use of mechanised farm equipment has already created unemployment among farm workers. 

Geopolitics is complex and to vent your frustration don't protest - use that energy for your progress. A problem might have a simple solution that is, neat, biased - and may be wrong.

Protest is not a substitute for a profession. What will be the magnitude of chaos, if people start protesting against protests and protesters for (infringing on their right) heavily impacting their means of livelihood?

ChintaMany's diary-page 4 (Armchair analysts)

{Some need to hear the constant sound of claps and some use ear plugs to block that noise. It is all a perception....page-3, ChintaMany's diary}

I shift your focus now on to another type of Armchair Analysts - the social media variety. To start the ball rolling, these analysts just need a seeding analysis - to read and react. After embellishing the original, highlighting "threatened personal, adverse effects" and make the first forward, as a follow-up-analyst. Then a crop of easily excited fellow-follow up-message forwarders assist them in spreading their analyses."  Depending on the media type -hash tags, likes, dislikes and other forms of expressions start a string or thread. The forwarding frenzy ceases when the string or thread gets twisted beyond recognition. Then, they happily shift to another juicy topic. The bonding between the first forward-analyst and the tail end analysts itself may one day become a social media topic. 

ChintaMany was pleasantly surprised when his hindsight also echoed the same thought, probably wanting to be on the same page- "Who are they?"

They are not attached to any think-tank, not affiliated to any academic institution or to any pro or anti outfits. Still, they merit a mention and writeup, because they bring a basket of food for thought. ChintaMany put out a silent appeal to the original analyst and the first forward-analyst, "Let this gift these follow up-forward-analysts bear, not become a morsel for you to be chewed upon." The obscure fact of the matter is no one would like to subscribe or associate with these follow up -forward-analysts. Yet, forcibly invited groups (usually family members) get glued to and hang on to their WhatsApp wisdom, solely for the tax-free entertainment content. Unable to control their itching fingers, they too add their bits by way of considered opinions (to keep the family in good humour), exhibiting the famously known 'moths fall for a flame' syndrome.

 What credentials do these first forward-analysts and follow-up-forward-analysts bring to the cellphone screen, their preferred device for dissemination? Having raised the question, ChintaMany came up with a probable list; Some are in professional pursuits; some of them tinker and soldier on with technology; some of them could crunch numbers like an expeller, crushing oil seeds; some dabble in marketing; some are in fine arts and so on. He noted that more often, they do not stick to their traffic lanes and are stir crazy to cut across domains, either for the thrill of it or to showcase their terrifying traits. This versatility adds spice to their message-cooking and their favourite dishes being election, budget, mishaps or scandals. Occasionally, cinema, music and art  also come to their attention but vary of the lukewarm traction these get on social media, they just let them slide.

Election takes emotions on a rollercoaster ride and results leave a lingering feeling of wins and losses. This thrill filled ride makes the follow up-forward-analysts to eagerly scan for a "first forward analyst's post." The itching fingers take 'suo motu' notice, of the half-understood analysis, and hurriedly hit send command, not before adding a bit of own analytical wisdom. If unsatisfied with local input, this follow- up forward analyst has no hesitation to touch upon foreign sources. 

The catch words like, " Democracy is in danger", "Democracy is being murdered", "Elections are rigged", "Election is violation of human rights" and "Voice of press is chocked" adds colour to the forwarded analysis. For a humble follow up-forward- analysts, the temptation is strong like the freebies promised before the elections. They fall for these exhortations without analysing whether it originated from a democracy or dictatorship. ChintaMany could not take it anymore but to shoot a question to the forwarding analysts -" why don't you ananlyse and share opinion on the negative impact of such freebies?" Belatedly he understood, after a jab from his hindsight, that these analysts' politics is a limited over match, to be watched and not played. 

After the election fever runs its course, the next ripe topic is the budget, as it gives a chance to all these analysts, once a year. A Government is expected to spend on various schemes of development, aimed to get into the Club of Developed Nations. Revenue has to be generated in the form of Taxes and levies , to meet targeted growth. Accordingly, budget proposals are presented to steer the economy through the year. It pinches some, benefits some and leaves out some. Hoping for a budget that will please everyone is, at best a utopian dream. The moment a budget is presented, the first analysis appears in social media. It digs holes in the budget using cherry picking methods - favourable proposals are omitted, disliked proposals are selected. Ready with borrowed rhetorics , the first forward-analyst launches a frontal attack. Taking cue, the follow up-forward-analysts become hyperactive. Some even go to the extent of giving a tutorial to the budget makers. 

ChintaMany dug deep into this nexus to find out Who are these energetic analysts and why are they so upset?? He was puzzled with line up- those earning a reasonable salary, income from fixed deposits and deriving benefits from stock market boom (dividends/cashing out) or crash (buying in) and are busily engaged in finding ways to reduce tax liability. Compassionate analysts try to weakly touch upon the plight of senior citizens of the land. To add oil to fire to this distorted analysis, non-residents wake up( from different time zones) and contribute tables showing no-tax regimes in other countries, which the follow up-forward-analysts gladly include.   

Infuriated by this misinformation, ChintaMany spent some time, surfed internet and found that only the rows and columns drawn for the tables were true. The first-post analyst and the subsequent forward-analysts did not bother to look into the wealth generation modes of those countries, where no-tax regime existed. ChintaMany wanted to shout them down with- "Dig you get oil, dig you get diamonds, wake up you get tourists, go to sleep the tourist are still there spending money. The bottom line is others drive the economy, build infrastructures, pay taxes. No further need and so citizen live tax-free." ChintaMany wanted to question these analysts, "If it is so appealing, why waste talent here? Are you here only to enjoy affordable freedom?"

To the non-residents he had this question, "Honestly, do you have any choice to decide what you want to be there? 

Those who grumble can take the first flight, but remember this - Highways, metros, bridges, transport including the flight you board is made possible only by taxes paid by people."  Taken aback by the vehemence in ChintaMany's voice, his hindsight withdrew quietly.

In the event of an accident and even before an enquiry commission gets constituted, a bystander takes to social media as the first-post analyst. No need for an official enquiry panel to be constituted. His enquiry commission starts functioning. No doubt the official machinery has starting troubles - reach site, visit the spot, get a fed on solid data, interview the personnel etc. Whereas the on-the-spot analyst relies on known information from similar mishaps. Instead of a run of the mill reporting, he mixes a good number of surmises and end up giving the 'hot on the derailed wheels' verdicts. To add weight to the verdict he includes unsafe operations of other forms of transports that run on wheels. Due to urgency in getting it to the media, fortunately he forgot to rope in maritime mishaps, although ships don't run on wheels. This stop press media post is directly accessed by follow up-forward analysts, via a loop line. 

Demands of resignation, compensation to victims, allegation of corruption, impartial enquiry (and a JPC for political flavour), delayed arrival of medical teams, relief worker and other strings are added before the follow up -forward analyst finishes his post. Happy and free travel to the messages, getting forwarded across the globe (to reach kith and kin). It is a bonus if vested activists on foreign soil too join. Getting 'likes' is more important and if found off-the-mark, a post-post-accident analysis is always a choice. The officials rue the lack of this wiggle-room provision, in the guidelines of enquiry. 

ChintaMany had two doubts and posed it to his hindsight, " Was this bystander travelling by this train? Did he extend any humanitarian aid?" His hindsight went silent and then came on and whispered, "If he had been extending humanitarian help, how he would have got time to take to social media?" An exasperated ChintaMany needed a walk to clear his head.

ChintaMany's diary - page 3 (Understanding Father)

 {Many would happily come forward with suggestions, without realising the hidden troubles they bring....page-2, ChintaMany's diary} 

ChintaMany could not get off from the 'Fear is the Lock ' experience. A silent paradox surfaced in his mind - suggestion brings trouble or trouble brings suggestion. While he was debating the egg or chicken first conundrum, his hindsight prodded him to read the next page, in the diary, and be done with it. ChintaMany looked around to see who spoke to him just now! Finding none and little puzzled by this , he went to the suggested page in the diary. Immediately he understood that this particular worry-point has been getting pushed down the line and yet struggled to come up in the order. It remained beyond his comprehension, how in a diary worry-points get moved randomly and what invisible force caused them to behave like that.

What is this 'Understanding Father' trying to convey?

Surely this is a matter which transcends generation gap or chasm. ChintaMany wanted to analyse and understand but lacked key inputs to guide him through this tricky subject. He stared at the title which remained mute. Is nothing conveyed by remaining silent? He understood, of course, not! It may not be in words but by implied hints. Is it based on vocally conveyed viewpoints or intuitively understood thought process? With this clarity be sufficient to define understanding? Either of them will it be an indicator of understanding or lack of it!

For some, father becomes a friend and remains so to the end. For some, the bond of friendship slowly weakens. For some, the relationship transforms from a feared figure, becomes a friend and affectionate. Father rarely starts to stand up as an Idol from the beginning. This evolves over time, with right perception. Naturally, when a young and an adult share emotional space, some curveballs get served. Some viewpoints get sharp responses, divergent views emerge, leading to fissures in the relationship. 

ChintaMany reached the next stage and posed this question to himself - What is the origin? He released a sigh of relief, hearing no witty comeback wondering hindsight got tongue tied! 

People constantly change parameters to evaluate, criticise and awarding grades. Somebody has told them that nothing remains constant and they decided to disprove by constantly getting at some thing or other. No one, even a father, can really escape from this scrutiny. People hype and boost what they like and decry to destroy what did not sit well with them.

ChintaMany deftly caught this nibbling fish- 'Expectation', and immediately sensed a danger. Expectation has two components, yearned by one and shunned by another. Failure to understand - this another person might have a reason- pathological aversion on expectations and no desire to fulfill them - the relationship has entered a conflict zone.

Dislike has a humble beginning here. A structured study time, less time for play and hosting friendship often gets the father in the crosshairs of children's ire. Economic considerations or latent burdens spill over to sour the relationship between a father and children. Here, ChintaMany called a halt to the progression of words, as they have to balance the Children's disappointment with that of the father's unenviable position. May as a gown up he could have explained everything kindly and nicely but that would not have happened if he happens to be a bottler of emotions.  

At that dream-filled age, explanations however sweet and reasonable fail to give them clarity. The worst happens in the absence of an explanation. In most cases, when the children become adult, the issue remains unresolved or a remnant of it surfaces now and then. The bonding between a father and -child-turned adult stays strong, if both have attempted periodic venting and mending of bruised feelings. The hibernating hindsight awoke and startled ChintaMany with something resembling a war cry. Did you do any of these wise things to vent and mend? Searching for a strong comeback, ChintaMany could only manage a weak whimper-that is why now, I am trying to help others.

As life goes on, the children embark on their careers and spend energy in overcoming their own issues. During all these tumultuous journeys, of father and children, the mother has the home advantage and good working relationship with children. Proximity enjoyed and care received prepares the children not to take even strident criticisms to heart. Unlike with father, frictions don't last long. ChintaMany spent some time, debating this point and concluded it may be due to different chemical triggers, a physiological factor.

Even if the parents have independent means, the father remains isolated in an emotional island. In some cases, the disharmonious state has gone too far, to smoothen the wrinkles. The children have no time to evaluate his environment by placing themselves there. Opinions get over analysed as a routine; advices get lobbed on to the marooned man, without thinking about effect and consequences. A casual observer might log the viewpoints of the father as grumblings in old age, echoing the thoughts of children. This casual observer has no business, in the first place, to wade into a tight family situation. ChintaMany's hindsight prompted him to ask, " Am I hearing your own experience speaking?"   

Incision, repair and suture alone is not a surgical procedure. Anesthesia and medicines too are vital. Whatever be the fatherly faults, should not the children remember the anchorage he was able to provide. Of course, he might not have emoted appreciation in proper measures and might have given a heavy dose of criticism. In his inner heart, the idea was not to allow praise to hop into their heads and criticism to make them try harder. Emotional punches apart, are they not now their own masters of their destiny. Life mirrors a surgical procedure-incision of friction points, repair of disagreements and suture of wounded feelings, along with a dose understanding and appreciation completes a cycle. 

ChintaMany decided to give a chance to the marooned man to speak: "You, children need not cause a tsunami near this island. The least, I expect now, is no further isolation. I have two questions for you - are you perfect in every sense of the word? Have I uttered anything other than an alert, taking care to attach it with a take or leave tag? Always interests cannot be aligned to the liking of everyone.  Differing viewpoints certainly have emerged, and verbal exchanges occurred and in denying these, have we not suffered.? This is the sum and summary of life, as I understand.  

Time - I have to thank, for the resolve to keep you all unexposed to the chaos in my life. It was a mental lock. Harsh words and anachronous actions did not help anybody to understand me as a real person. So, instead of appreciation, I have been receiving snide comments and subjected to insensitive actions. May be everyone thought, "Who is he to expect a better deal?

I believed; one's grief should not become another's; One's belief should not cause grief in another. Some need to hear the constant sound of claps and some use ear plugs to block that noise. It is all a perception. The fact is, there are missing links, have to be identified and connected.  If you cannot find time now, the time will find you wanting, later.

I have a word for those who are happy to distribute suggestions. Time for a little science- Any suggestion has a Newtonian twist- a three-body problem. In Astronomy, it is the source, the receiver and the fellow traveller. Nature has found a way to work out the mechanics, but you and I can only complicate it. A suggestion impacts in three ways- the giver if not taken seriously, the receiver if taking it seriously and the fellow traveller totes a mixed bag; happy if not accepted, sour if accepted. The message is to think before speaking - the problem cannot be solved by ignoring the third body."

ChintaMany's diary - page 2 (Fear is the lock)

 {...neither going up nor coming down. Frantically searching in his pockets, he found the notes he had made for this write up and dropped it like a bag of hot coal. He had reached the solid ground and labelled it as a miracle, in escaping unhurt and getting the political cobwebs cleared. "To dispose of the diary or to keep it." This is now, his newborn worry! - page 1, ChintaMany's diary}

The air drop experience left him in fear of a repeat performance and could instantly recall, verbatim, that last paragraph. He heard rustling of pages of his diary. With shaking hands, he opened it only to be scared on seeing the next worry in line- Fear. Determined to banish it from the page, he trudged along its labyrinths. 

The human mind is a master cinematographer. It projects a motion picture, calling upon shots of senses such as touch, smell, taste, visual and background sound (human and other genre) clues and fools us with it as memory. Probably this attribute enjoyed by human beings might have inspired modern day computing and communication techniques, at unimaginable (to the lay person) speeds, which is getting bettered continuously. Satisfied with this introduction, feeling a wave of fear-of-rejection, ChintaMany got ready to tackle this topic. 

As a means to help himself to outwit and beat his own demons. If it helps bolstering confidence in others, he was glad to be of help. Another round of satisfaction coursed through his mind for having selected the title -"Fear is the lock ", though it sounded a little off-road of the beaten path. Normal usage is as 'fear is the key.'

Riding a doubtful horse, anticipating a negative outcome saddled with "wise owl's hind sighted criticism" is the beginning. The first step to the domain of fear is self-doubt. This growing self-doubt seeds the universal trigger for anxiety and fear. The mind perceives them as a threat, real or imagined, depending on the individual. This defensive mechanism is activated by brain to prevent bodily harm. It manifests both in physical and biochemical reactions in the body and becomes a mind-over-body phenomenon. 

The second step is catalysed by phobias - visual (darkness or loss of visibility (height or flying), water (drowning, chocking) death and dying, averse to social interaction or reptiles, insects or other animals and any other thing we share in our living environment. Given the chance, the mind will invent and come up with as many phobias as one can imagine. 

There are at least one hundred and twenty-eight listed phobias. With little more painstaking effort, perhaps, the list will be enlarged by the worrying mind. If any one of these listed phobias results in a traumatic experience, the brain stores and learns from the experience to change that phobia into a fear. ChintaMany paused here with a doubt-" Is it certain that a phobia causing a trauma will turn into a fear?"

The third step towards a full-blown fear with the help of phobias, is engineered by including the following types of symptoms-social anxiety disorder, PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) and panic disorder. Fear is one of human emotions. With all hands-on deck. The mind categorises , orchestrates and expresses it in stages or in varying degrees of intensity. Trepidation, nervousness, anxiety, dread, desperation, panic, horror and terror are some of the important tools of trade. When fear grips an individual, symptoms such as chest pain, chill, dry mouth, nausea, rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, sweating, trembling or upset stomach are out as troublemakers. 

A fear strike commands the sweat glands, via neural network, to go on an over drive to exude specific chemical markers. You can't hide fear as sensitive olfactory nerves can smell it. Again, ChintaMany hit the pause button, to verify whether it is a fact or fiction churned out by his brain. Waiting on the sidelines, his hindsight came online and said, " At the rate you are going, I may soon need an oxygen mask!" ChintaMany felt embarrassed and called it a day for the session. He too needed a breathing space.  

How to overcome fear?

ChintaMany wrote this heading, with a nervous tic in the corners of his mouth. A self-doubt too rose its ugly face with a question, " Can you do it?" The question appeared vague as it could mean 'he can't overcome fear' or ' he can't finish the task'. A dash of confusion got into this dilemma, as the ever ready hindsight remained ominously silent.

 Skirmishes win battles and battles win wars.  He decided to tackle the mind first on this mind-over-body game. A warning to the mind, of the gentler variety, so as not to enrage it, that its rights and freedom to imagine will be curtailed or revoked. Co-operate voluntarily, reduce interference or face deportation. All these tasks need some doing. Imagine a lean cat and an overgrown mouse. They are natural enemies. The rat, relying on its size, tries to intimidate the cat. The cat, overcoming its fear due its size, bares its teeth in a snarl or growl. Visualise what happens now! Size notwithstanding, the rat does some serious calculations, backs off with its tail securely tucked between the legs.

Fear is like a cage, outwardly presenting the look of a safety locker. A convenient place to hide from raising anxiety. Initially getting in and out through the widely spaced bars, is easy. This coupled with the feeling of subsiding anxiety. Hoping for a little more relief from fear of being anxious, repeated visits into the cage becomes a routine. After every cycle, few more bars are getting added and gaps getting closer. Finally, the over working imagination takes over, turns the bars into a closely knit woven net and fear gets stuck inside. In turn, fear effectively imprisons the person. 

 How to come out of the cage?

ChintaMany felt tired after trying to speak to the mind and decided to have a break. The niggle in his narration left him wondering whether mind and body act together or separately. To face and defeat fear, the cage built by the mind has to be dismantled. This much became clear to him and then ChintaMany went for the punch line to exhort - Efforts beyond the capability or inner strength and strong conviction is the key. Use the key and free fear from the mind. 

A long journey starts with a small shuffle forward. ChintaMany literally jumped out of his skin when he looked at this gem of a sentence. Now all that he has to do is give it a purpose. He had talent, to weave a small thread into a piece of cloth, though none acknowledged it. He took this in his stride -if acknowledgement is due, it gets delivered.

A meet with someone expressing the same symptom, finds the natural harbour and lets the anchor drop.  Conversation will be on symptom. This helps to air feelings but harms both, by reinforcing the malaise. A meet with someone expressing different symptom, then both end up with an additional syndrome to worry about.  This is like cross pollination and exchanged phobia blooms in both the minds. Getting to work, the mind works out a comparative statement- pictures a mole hill as a mountain for self and vice versa for the other.

How to personalise the fight?

ChintaMany felt hot blooded enthusiasm over speeding through the veins. With courage sufficiently warmed up, he decided to get into the ring.

Face the fear, anxiety, phobia or whatever else that is bothering, there is only one way to deal with it. Imagine standing in front of a lift gone out of order and need to reach the seventh floor. Time is of essence. What is to be done? Climb up, Step by step, to the seventh floor. Treat fear, anxiety, phobia or whatever and face them step by step.

All these resident phobias in the mind, if properly engaged with on a one-to-one conversation will get convinced. Personal experience is unique, and the recipient will decide on how the se residents should behave.

Coming to well-wishers and sailors on similar boats, a mixture of caution. Consideration will ensure a balanced approach. Many would happily come forward with suggestions, without realising the hidden troubles they bring. Those who give suggestions, should not fail to foresee its effects on implementation.  Fear has a positive side after all, it brings out the true courage who fight and subdue it!

After coming out with such a write up, ChintaMany felt his hindsight shouting at his ears - " If only you had taken all these steps...?"

ChintaMany got the point, left unsaid. He penned an emotional appeal asking for someone to come forward and help him to get rid of his fear?

ChintaMany's diary - page1(Common Man & Politicos):

His given name is Chintamani. From his adulthood onwards, he started exhibiting a trait of worrying and thinking about many things. After gaining some field experience, he became a globe trotter (literally), scouting for things to worry about. In this pursuit, he was like a satellite placed in a polar orbit. Wherever convenient, he co-opted Science & technology to keep track of his fields of worries. I happened to hear his outpourings on some outlandish worries. To his credit, it should be said that he had a vibrant imaginative track to come out with novel concepts in worrying- such as snow mountains on fire, sand waves in the oceans, tsunami in the deserts, clouds belting the earth with micro metals and plastics, so on and so forth. For all these terrifying worries, he was earned a nickname - ChintaMany. 

To allow us to continue living in peace, I have chosen not to bring out the dreadful ones, into the public domain and scare the daylights out of our collective lives. However, to do him some honours, I hasten to leak a selection of his benign worries.

ChintaMany  has a dairy filled up with issues that bothered him a lot, but eluded logic and resolution.  Unable to make any progress, he spent many sleepless nights in his quest, by sifting through such benchmark instances - experienced or heard or read, that could help. After many sleepless nights, and out of the blue (out of sheer frustration) a vivid picture of his childhood visits to a nearby stream roiled in his memory. He fondly remembered that spending time there used to be fun and thrill, though a heavy dose of admonishment always awaited at home for wasting valuable time.

At that age, his particular fascination used to be to watch a weak stream of water trying to flow around conjoined boulders, which was happily sitting in the middle, to prevent it. The trickling flow had its own trick - paused to gather enough water to flow around the boulders. A vagrant slim branch of a tree, coming along for the free ride, was not lucky and stood defeated at the trap. He sensed that the stream was trying to tell him something but in his befuddled mind, the message appeared garbled and unreadable like on a piece of wet, crimped paper.

He forcefully put a stop to the time travel and came back to the present. Failing to decipher the message, he went back to his diary and made a fresh entry - What the stream was telling me, at that time? As soon as the entry was made - presto, his worry about the common man and politics literally jumped out of the page, crying for a resolution. Though this issue tried to barge through the queue in his listing, he decided to ignore the transgression. Simultaneously, his hindsight took a swipe at him, " You could have written down the question to the stream, at the beginning of the page itself!" Shutting off the broadcast of hindsight, he sat down to ponder.

Who is the common man or woman? Is it the man or woman who is thrust upon the center stage to take a pot-shot at the government? Or over whom politicians peel loads of onion, shed crocodile tears to claim friendship, loyalty and support? He grudgingly admired the political maneuvering in wooing the common peoples, with promises/guarantees like free breath, free sweating, free day and night every day, to the rest of their lives - opening new avenues for fiction writers to make further explorations. But this guarantee comes with terms and conditions-if and if only the common folks elect him, his wife or son or daughter and along with the party he is associated with, to power. 

Politicos never forget to point out that, this will ensure a whole family of them will be standing by. A serious doubt reared its head in ChinataMany's mind, which the common folks never dared to ask, " To standby and serve whom?" The politicos know and the common folks also know, it is a hollow pipe dream, without smoke. While selling these dreams to commons folk, the politico is ever hopeful of fulfilling his own personal dream of retaining the reins of power. Of course, for the benefit of only the common folk.

As an elected/defeated individual, the politico embarks on a quick, made to order hunger strikes lasting a few minutes to few hours, chosen at his convenience. This is to agitate for the rights and entitlements of common folks. The ever present friendly and 'vested interest' media at the venue ensures this historic and abridged version of the hunger strike gets into 24/7 telecast loop. This is a ploy to leave his detractors red-faced and hyperventilating and to shore up his diminishing popularity. For added measure, a medical team with an ambulance is in attendance to rush the politico to a premium ICU care.

Hold your breath! The fight is not over yet. From the bed, hooked up with snaking tubes, the politico assures the common folk and urges them to stand united, cautioning them to be aware of troubling foreign influence. ChintaMany hit a roadblock with these doubts, " For how long? till an election is won or till the politico comes out of ICU or to crowd-fund the hospital expenses? And why a foreign influence on the matter of a hunger strike? Will any of common folk will question these? "

Unable to stand the melodrama anymore, he politely asked one of the common folks for a clarification and the cryptic answer left him stunned -"Just came for the fun, nothing serious about it!" Hesitantly, ChintaMany asked the bystander if he has been voting for this politico? The bystander abruptly left the scene with this parting remark, " I am not an enrolled voter."

The typical politico keeps his/her agenda well-hidden and close to the chest. In case, the politico is forced to spend time in custody, the propped-up kith or kin in position will hold the flag, light torches and run marathons. They gently ease into the public arena, minute by minute health bulletins with BP, Sugar and weight loss graphs to create a ground swell of sympathy and support. Friendly media again comes forward to lend electronic helping hands. The common folks afflicted by more severe swings, spare a dismissive nod and move on and away from the media doses, till another high-profile BP and Sugar swings comes online. 

The good old Edison's bulb starts to blink, and the common folks try to understand the foresight with which the politico has lined up the kith and kin (with a shade of distrust on his own siblings) to step into his shoes, if things go south! For the common folks, the bulb came on a little late as the elections have concluded a few months back! ChintaMany had to split his hairs, a few of them are left over after many such splitting episodes, to come to grips with the duality in the politico's persona and the taking for a ride feeling about the common folks.

Politico is very sportive; versatile in performing high & long jumps, hopping & skipping, play musical chairs, and go in merry go rounds etc. ChintaMany grudgingly admired and wondered why such an accomplished person did not compete in the Olympics. Is it not advantageous - games are held once in 4 years and generally elections are held once in 5 years?  At the physiological level, falling sick at the blink of an eye - though not an Olympic game, they can claim amnesia, heart attack and other ICU rated excuses to ward off political and economic heat. They have the best business acumen to sell temporary illusions as permanent solutions. Now and then, they part take in the game of monopoly, closeted in luxurious resort settings. Thinking about the common folks, against their conscience, they reluctantly travel, in chartered flights. 

ChintaMany understood the philosophy - "Why the allure of power should be resisted, when it is expense-free?"

It is not uncommon - a politico lambasting a particular faith as a regressive agent, in a fiery and strident speech only to motivate his shrinking constituency.  How can he serve, if unable to emote to that constituency? When cornered, this flip-flop artist disowns the statement and blames it on "quoted out of context routine." All the rabble rousing is to decide which constituency to woo - a minor or a major one! Hitting this crossroad, the politico suddenly discovers faith too pays, becomes an expert marathon runner. The chosen circuit revolves around holy places dotted with temples.

As the itch to get back on the saddle of power becomes unbearable, inventing novel freebie schemes, flogging the overworked horse to gallop, at the drop of an election announcement becomes the norm. After swearing in, they wonder why they won and scramble to place white paper, black paper or another attractive coloured paper to decry the state of financial health, left by the outgoing regime. In desperation, they fail to recollect (selective amnesia), the outgoing regime brought out similar coloured papers on the current paper writers.

ChintaMany understood a fundamental fact, the saga of a politico never ends. When unable to digest policy, the politico suddenly suffers indigestion and hops to another party without thinking whether the indigestion will strike back again. The party had used outdated mathematical equations (of political variety) to compute election outcome, suitably buttressed with opinions of 'strategists' and favourable 'internal' assessment. This miscalculation throws up the lot of lost politicos. With nothing to do, they start crystal-ball gazing, come up with predictions on collapse of government in power. It is trying time to retain political relevance amidst the landslide defeat. They rue the lack of horse sense for having placed the bet on a poll strategist, who quietly disappeared, with the advisory fee taken in advance?

 ChintaMany mentally thanked the common folks for wisely refraining from demanding a colour paper on the role of strategists in an election and how dare they take us for granted!

Wait listed and refusing to retire from playing politics, some of them start basking in the past glory of bygone career. In the heydays, they could even conjure up such profound discoveries such as ‘fishes are hydrophobic, birds suffer aviophobia in their left wings and aerophobia in their right wings'. When political future turns bleak and beyond redemption, they hear start to the call of conscience (Akash Vani), have a new futuristic vision (Door Darshan). If none of this works out, they reluctantly prepare to embrace a miffed political vanvas. ChintaMany had another doubt, "Will this be the end?" 

To wind up his worries, he focused attention on the common folks- the king makers. He tried to guess what the common folks would do in the next round of elections, after hearing, seeing and with belied hopes?

ChintaMany felt like being air-dropped from 30 or 40 thousand feet and getting suddenly stuck midway - neither going up nor coming down. Frantically searching in his pockets, he found the notes he had made for this write up and dropped it like a bag of hot coal. An ever so gentle downward drop started, and after an interminable wait settled down like a feather on a meadow.  He had reached the solid ground and labelled it as a miracle, in escaping unhurt and getting the political cobwebs cleared.  "To dispose of the diary or to keep it." This is now, his newborn worry!

Love thy inanimate things

"I love inanimate things," declared his grandson. Imaginch, no doubt, was flabbergasted by this pompous statement from a ten-year-old. Before confronting him with questions, he rushed through the pages of a dictionary, momentarily confused and forgetting the Smartphone on hand, to get the meaning. Satisfied with his preparation, he asked his grandson, " Why did you make this statement?" 

Unflustered, the grandson replied tersely, " Because they live a minimalistic existence!"

Again, Imaginch scrambled not to refer to the dictionary this time, but to the smartphone. This was a serious matter and required much deep thinking. Right at that moment, Imaginch felt a solitary walk, along with his grandson, might clear his doubts, without flying onboard   a philosophical plane. Imaginch dreaded and avoided air travel as much as possible for two reasons: 1. No one has him on a s o s list. 2 Hates to count the fearful minutes of being airborne, even while travelling along with a plane load of nonchalant passengers.

Grandpa, "Shall I tell you something?"  

This was unusual as he always told what was on his mind, without seeking permission. Or was he testing the waters before wading deeper into the philosophy he had just delivered! Imaginch became curious and did not want to play spoilsport. He nodded his head, just barely.

His grandson continued in a deadpan voice, " Grandpa, you know, I love you!"

Stumped and stung, Imaginch fast-paced to a lonely spot and stared at the ground. To his dismay he found not even the wild grass varieties had put up shop there. He thought this perfectly mirrored his state of mind after hearing all the statements his grandson had made so far.

Still seething with hurt, for being labelled as an inanimate thing, Imaginch turned around and saw his grandson playing fools by chasing a pair of butterflies, engaged in a joint aeronautical exercise. This act reassured him that his grandson still had a child's streak in him. Ambling towards him, Imaginch gently asked him, what he meant to convey with all his one liners?

The grandson, still captivated by the flight dynamics of the butterflies said, "I meant, I truly love you, maybe you misunderstood it because of that statement I love inanimate things."

To Imaginch, this adroit steering around a controversy was gladdening but the allusion to a misunderstanding came out sounding like a politician's stock reply, when cornered.

Not to be outdone by this wily young cub, Imaginch asked, " What did you mean by referring to minimalist existence?"

Now it was the turn of the grandson to blink. He flexed his memory cells for a suitable phrase to express his dilemma, as a preamble before answering. The phrase, between a rock and a hard place sounded better as an opener. “Grandpa it was difficult choice like between a rock and hard place.  If I explained it as the art of living with bare minimum essentials like you, you would feel offended. If I said that there are people who lived with bare minimum of essentials, then you would feel left out. In such a situation, what could I have done better than citing  you as a shining example, for the other category”

As a grandfather, could he wish for anything more than this, after hearing about the rock, followed by the little convoluted explanation about minimalistic existence, in two versions and ending it with a platitude - of shining example for the other category.! Imaginch felt his head rolling uncontrollably after hearing everything and understanding nothing. 

Having endured so far, Imaginch wanted to know where from this inanimate and minimalistic ideas creeped into his grandson's head. He was mentally prepared to hear it out, however confusing it turned out to be.

Grandpa, I watch an animation series, of course when you are out walking, using your laptop. Two characters meet and talk about a wooden table in the room. The conversation, between the characters, goes like this:

Ani.1: See the table there! It does not know its age, nor is worried about the worn-out condition.

Ani.2: Still is it not functional as a table?

Ani.1: What is the use, it cannot even ask for a covering cloth!

Ani.2: Of course, but as a table is it not still useful?

Ani.1: What is the use of being useful to others without getting due care?

Ani.2: I agree to the useful part. It is useful precisely because it demands minimum attention.

Imaginch almost cried out and told his grandson - this much explanation, adapted from your source is good enough for me. Now, I have understood, “I love inanimate things. Because they live a minimalistic existence, and you love me. But one thing I find missing is the key words – inanimate and minimalistic in the conversation between the characters Ani1 and Ani 2. Where from you got them?" 

His grandson proudly declared, “Oh, that thing? From another cartoon series I watch on your laptop!”

Not wanting to get outsmarted once again, the beaming grandpa announced, “Now let us go home happily”

In solitude, Imaginch made a trip down the memory line to recollect his childhood (Radio with many valves), his children’s childhood (Gen 0.0 TV with cable connection) and his grandson’s childhood (Smartphone, laptop and internet of many things). He concluded; no wonder kids nowadays could speak philosophy like reciting a nursery rhyme.

State of Affairs:

Everyone has a way. Can it be your way, my way or highway?

From: *Autumn leaves*

Though not a statesman out to save the world, this thought had Imaginch in a bind. If he tried to give a honest answer, he would surely be drawn into controversies. Whether his opinions mattered or not he expressed his contrary views, and never failed to use a heavy hand to hammer home the point. He did not believe in edited talks. As a result, he found himself owning a dubious record of holding a pile of unwanted currency called "mistrust". Close family members, relatives - near and distant, and friends gleefully made generous deposits. He even earned a few deposits to this account from the general public. 

He knew that no statement could remain consistent one way or the other.  He strongly believed in "Liar's Paradox" - a paradox cannot be consistently proved true or false by working from the same framework. The pity is, many do not want to touch upon this subject.  

When the inner gears and wheels started to mesh and gather momentum, he was reluctant to apply the brakes. His driving instructor had once said," At this rate, you would surely get stopped by another vehicle or tress on the road" and promptly got down from the vehicle. This chastening notwithstanding, rather than curbing the flow of his thoughts, Imaginch anticipated for a verbal clash. From some hidden corner of his mind, a feeble voice always tried to tell him “Why don't you ease up a little?" He silenced it by retorting, "I know I am wrong but let me find out by how far!”

(1) Faith in belief:

Imaginch pitied the people, who invariably invoked a variety of gods by chanting hymns and performing evil-chasing rites, to recover from ill health. On the sidelines, they also got in touch with a panel of doctors for advice, and queued up patiently at the pharmacy counters, to collect a basketful of medicines. This was one part of the affair and the second was the act of distributing their acquired wisdom, by suggesting a panel of gods and doctors, along with a list of pharmacies in the location nearer to them.  "I chanted this hymn that many times, offered prayers to this powerful god with acute hearing, and presto, my operation got successfully completed very soon. Why don't you also try this!" Like medicine sans frontiers, this particular brand of wisdom travelled through diplomatic channels, without scrutiny.

The untold part of this sage advice had the backing of a few lakhs of rupees in the bank, to fund the divine-blessed operation performed by a famous surgeon in a renowned hospital! Luckily for the listener, the advice did not shine on the highlights of the vetting procedure employed by them to select the doctor who held the scalpel and operated. Some freedom of choice to the listener!  

These self-appointed advisors never entertained Q & A sessions such as: “If you are so sure about your prayers, why at all go to a surgeon? If you are so sure about the treatment, why then these hymns and prayers? When you are not sure, why go about offering your suggestions to others, though they failed the test of reason and fly in the face of logic?”

Irked by this attitude of showing scant respect to Q & A, Imaginch confronted these medical advisors and asked them point blank, " If you had faith in your way of doing things, why don't you keep it to yourself and allow the others to choose their own ways?" Imaginch heard the gnashing sound and knew his inner voice trying to raise a cautionary flag.

Ignoring the flag, Imaginch continued to vent his feelings. If one tried to ride on two horses at the same time, the ride would end exactly like the nursery rhyme 'Humpty Dumpty'. Staunch devotion helps to ignore these facts and quietly allow the inverse square law a free run. Ease of avoiding self-analysis and stifling the voice of logic only helped these self-appointed ambassadors of health to thrive.

Probably the devotee operates on a dual channel of thinking; Devotion gets credit for any fulfilled wish and if not, then it happened due to a shortfall in the degree of devotion. This devotee has another stock explanation - only an ardent devotee is subjected to periodical hardships as a test of perseverance. When it comes to the working of real world, ardent devotees go into coma or start group chants and yagnas to envelop the world with peace and prosperity. 

This state of nirvana of such people, is like that of an ostrich, which supposedly buries its head in the sand. This is the third part which takes on logic by its horns, twists it in all dimensions +1, known to mankind. The confused logic gasps for breath, searching for a ventilator. In its death throes, logic finally understands the art of living - stand aside, not even as a spectator. 

Seizing the chance, Imaginch wanted to quote to them these wise words - "When the water level raises, fishes will eat ants; when the level drops low, ants will feast on fishes.” He only could recall these philosophical lines but could not remember the author or the context. Imaginch detested the words 'no comments' as it is a great gateway to evade responding.  He always said what he thought and disliked leaving a telltale sign - obvious answer unsaid or hinting at deniability.

(2) Legacy of a pandemic: The Covid conundrum:

There are three types of people. Those who perform duties even when in physical discomfort. Those who drop everything at the mere hint of physical discomfort. The third type takes the cake and walks away with it , without paying for it - those who don't do anything.  

Pandemic of unimaginable proportion took its octopus-like grip on the population. It made the governments of the day to scramble and scurry for cover, and to vacillate on 'to vaccinate or not to do? 

The manufacturing sector took a heavy beating. Software giants opted to hide their human resource in the safe environment of their residences, though it is not business as usual, but had working hands on the keyboards. 

Like everything in life, nothing is given under 'free lunch category'. Though this stay-at-home-and-work culture was alien to this crop of professionals, they adopted gladly, counting the positives that this pandemic has thrown their way. They started liking the freedom, aloofness from the workspace chatter and mobility to plan vacations at will - redefining work from home to include work from anywhere! 

As they grew to like this comfort-in-residence, a resistance virus started to afflict and tune their minds to continue in the same fashion, invoking Newton's Law of Gravitation. But this did not prevent them from questioning inadequate/lack of train services, banking facilities, postal facilities and so on and so forth. Now, the Software conglomerates started to hunt for fixes to cure the malady. The case of head-hunter becoming headcounter.  They used another of Newton's third Law of Gravitation.

The CEO'S & CFO'S aged by leaps and bounds to keep the flags flying, while their soldiers wandered around dressed in shorts and T-shirts, happily buying vegetables and fruits and loudly complaining about the workload to anyone lending an ear. Upheavals during appraisal time and heartburns looking at the pay slips led to the moonlighting syndrome. The audacious and clever ones, to keep a quiet conscience, chose the parent company itself for moonlighting! The CEO'S & CFO'S having enough worries on their plates, failed to gather intelligence or simply had no energy to read the writing on their monitors. It is true that when some tragic event occurs it always leaves a lingering effect.

The general population from other walks of life have shed the 'pandemic' cloak and resumed their work functions, bringing down the curtains on the 'pandemic' drama. Yet, this miniscule section feels very reluctant to do so. 

Pre-pandemic, the CEO'S & CFO'S were wielding the figurative 'stick' prior to the pandemic. Now, in their harassed avatar, have started to go around with baskets of figurative 'carrots' to somehow lure the unwilling and home-zone comforted soldiers to take up their allotted front-line positions, once again. In addition, the CEO'S & CFO'S continue to endure nightmares featuring market share, profit margins and attrition, against the backdrop of shrinking opportunities.

The pandemic not only tested the peoples' resolve to fight but also left them with a new scale to measure it with - social distance to keep company with the already existing 'poverty line', and 'population density'. It made a killing on the stock market and took a strangle hold on businesses, leaving them gasping for breath. The afflicted persons' lungs and national economies fought for oxygen and a bed in ICU or ICCU to survive.

Epidemic or pandemic, nothing deters the 'pundits' who have the knack of waiting in the wings to dole out print and electronic wisdom with the sole aim of shining negative reflections. The count of lives saved did not square up with their equations nor the lives lost due to not opting for protection against the Covid virus enter into their counting. They latched on to the 'side effects' theory to flog the dead horse. Feeling strongly against such attitude, Imaginch lashed out(literally) by pointing out a human life is invaluable. Honour the living, honour the demised and least of all give hope to the survivors wit h or without side effects. 

Waking up, his inner voice sounded a bit annoyed and said, "Reserve this for a lecture, even there how many would listen to you, is my doubt!"

Understanding Father

In life, the flood always recedes below the bridge.

From “Mind in a maze”

This is a subject, which transcends generation gap or chasm. Is nothing conveyed by remaining silent? Of course, not! It may not be in words but by implied hints. What defines understanding? Is it based on vocally exchanged viewpoints or intuitively understood thought processes?  Generally, a viewpoint gets a response. What happens, in case of divergence? It gets many warm to heated responses. Either of them, will it be a gamechanger?

For some children, the father becomes a friend and remains so to the end. For some others, the friend slowly becomes a distant entity. For some, he transcends from a feared figure and becomes a friend and affectionate person. In any case, the father, rarely starts to stand up as an Idol from the start. This evolves over time, with right perception. Naturally, when a young child and an adult share an emotional space, some curveballs get served. How the father defends the serves, decides the game. The time, separating itself from space-time, gives the first use to space and waits patiently as a referee.

The nature of the world is to constantly evaluates and criticises, with or without reason – a bias. No one can really escape from its ever-present scrutiny. People, part of that nature, try boost what they like and decry to destroy what did not fall in line with their expectations. Expectation is a twin edged sword- earned by one and shunned by another. If it does not come into reckoning, this another person might have a reason, pathological aversion on expectations or no desire to fulfil them. 

With this background in mind, let us hear a father’s side of the story.

“Dislike has a humble beginning - a structured study time, less time for play and frowning upon hosting friendship.  Often times, it is either an economic consideration or latent burdens being shouldered might be the reasons to sour the relationship between a father and children. At that age, even if I had tried, the explanations would have failed to give them clarity.  At a later stage, when the children become adults, the issue never gets resolved and the resentment lives on. Here, obviously the time has joined the space.

Later on, the children embark on their careers and spend energy in overcoming their own issues. During all these tumultuous journeys of father and children, the mother has the home advantage and good working relationship with children. The father does one thing that is dear to his heart- silently admires and encourages this safe haven for the children. Has he ever told them that after a harsh treatment meted out to them, he cried himself in to sleep?

I might have outdone myself, in the kitchen space. My expertise sole is to boil hot water to make a cup of black coffee. Probably to hide this secret, I never played host nor went as a guest. My personal stock hit an all-time low and was trying to dig deeper into the ground.

Even, if the parents have independent means, the father remains isolated in an emotional island. Too far gone to smoothen the wrinkles - his opinions get over analysed, inadvertent advices are lobbed back on to the man, already marooned. His children have no time to evaluate his environment, by placing themselves there. A casual observer, might log it as an old man’s grumblings, echoing the opinion of children. This casual observer may not even know that “the old man never used the words I told you so”. Is not the father, and old man, implying that he still guides and not criticise them?

I might have over done in coaching them, then, after school hours. A learned teacher comes down to the level of students to teach but I made the mistake of going steps, above their requirement.  A classic case of bringing an elevator when the need was for a ladder. At that time, I might not have realised, the level of stress I induced in their minds. A regretful, misfired attempt - instead of becoming a bull’s eye scorer, I turned out to be a bully in their eyes.

 Today, as a grandfather, gathering their kids to teach, they would surely have noticed the passion. Probably, in the inner reaches of their minds, they would have understood this old man, as their father, then.

 Life is not a surgical procedure – begins with an incision, repairs and ends in suture. Whatever be the fatherly faults, should not the children remember, the anchorage he was able to provide. Of course, he might not have emoted appreciation in proper measures and might have given them a heavy dose of criticism, at that time. In his inner heart, the idea was not to allow praise to hop into their heads and make use of his criticisms to try harder. Emotional punches apart, are they not now their own masters of their destiny!

A suggestion, to them, becomes, a three-body problem, as in Astronomy. The source, the receiver and the fellow traveller (casual observer in this case). Nature has found a way to work out the mechanics, but you and I can only complicate it. A suggestion impacts in three ways - the giver if not taken seriously, the receiver if taking it seriously and the fellow traveller totes a mixed bag; happy if not accepted, sour if accepted. The message is to think, assess the impact, before acting. The problem cannot be solved by ignoring the third body.

Children need not cause a tsunami near that island. The least, a marooned person expects now, is no further isolation. This island-man has two questions for them - are you perfect in every sense of the word? Have I uttered anything other than an alert, fully aware that it has a take or leave tag?

Remember this. Always, interests cannot be aligned.  Viewpoints will differ and verbal exchanges will occur. Denials are to be suffered. This is the sum and summary of life. Then, the father had only the time to thank and his resolve to keep them protected from the aftereffects of his junked life. Has he not prevented his grief from becoming theirs’s too?

Instead of appreciation, all I have been receiving are snide comments and insensitive actions., contravening one' belief should not cause grief in another. The father asks himself, “Who am I, to expect a better deal?”

When these missing links are identified and connected, everybody becomes to matter, on the same page.”

Bring it on Grandfather

                                                                                         A broom is as good as the hand holding it!

                                                                                                             From: “Settled dust”

The grinding stone, the steppingstone, the door mat and other inanimate objects  are more useful than a grandfather. He mumbled to himself, as he walked along on the footpath to nowhere. This might look like a sweeping statement, but a closer attention to incidents that have happened or happening or would happen in the future will be the proof for the pudding.

 The first salvo gets fired at him, when a grandkid doesn't respond immediately. Grandmother trains the gun to fire " like grandfather, he is hard of hearing or does not want to hear hard words." This leaves both, the grandfather and the kid perplexed. The grandson who was deeply engrossed in reading did not know what this is all about. The grandfather trying to recall the times, when and why he didn't respond, in the past! No way he could retort, “You are always saying something, whether it has anything to do with me or not. Truth be told, I do feign of not hearing to avoid a disagreement."

 The second salvo was fired when the grandson brings home a report card. Now, on this occasion, the son is quick to join issue with his father," You are too much for him and see what he has brought home now. Anything I ask, he replies, grandpa only said not to worry and strain too much and follow the clues I have given. If only I could have remembered them." 

 The grandpa feels like a potato being skinned alive (scrapped). He wanted to give a hot reply, " Is he Old Macdonald from the nursery rhyme?" But chose to remain silent as his grandson had used his words out of context and his son easily fell into that trap and jumped to a wrong conclusion.  Yet, as a grandfather he could only swallow the bitter pill administered by the grandkid. Affection needs a thick skin out of necessity, he mused!

With the grandmother, always in hand, to clue in the likely trajectory of the tracer bullets, the clan simply aimed at the painted target and fired away with telling accuracy. In effect, the grandfather had become a bullet ridden veteran, without being awarded a chakra of any kind. Seriously thinking about the needless potshots being taken at him, gave an idea. He allowed it to germinate in his mind for two reasons - collect some more of such 'wounds' and decide on the structure, with all embellishments, which would anyways creep in, as he planned a narrative. 

Once finished to his satisfaction, he decided to share it to all, in his Blog, which was tired of waiting for so long. He did not want to miss this golden opportunity, for dropping two fruits with a single stone throw.  As usual, he needed additional time for selecting the fruit and the tree.

Never a believer in coincidences, since none had worked in his favour so far, he was pleasantly surprised when his daughter asked him to come over. She had added, without forgetting, a sweetener " You know, kids love you!" He, then literally pinched his skin (on thick and thinner regions) to make sure that he has been invited (commanded). The dampener was hiding in the next sentence - have booked two tickets and check your inbox. A one act Shakespearian tragedy.

The practice of off- loading tasks, on to spare hands seems to be the norm from hi-tech companies to common households. He unsuccessfully tried to find out which stream came on-line first. In the household, older the helping hands the better it would be and only thing to be done is to brand them as "seasoned hands". The rest, as they say, is a misery with twists and turns, in his case.

Attachment has a way of getting a fault line to open as a crack. Stronger the attachment, the wider it opens. It all started with a no value number zero. At that time, it was a beautiful tool to explain a mathematical concept to my granddaughter. Lo and behold! He, never expected it to assume a significant value, after some time. Like long-term deposits growing with interest.

 A person who could not determine his place value in life, had the onerous task of teaching the place value a number assumes, written in different ...ok, you get the drift. He took pains to explain what happens to the value of a number, when shifted to different places like ones, tens, hundreds and so on.

In his over enthusiasm, the granddaughter is a willing and absorbing student, he tried to trick her with zero as often as possible in ones, tens and hundreds positions.  It is difficult for a child to grasp the meaning of zero. Adults, too, are not entirely out of the woods because our mind has to create something out of nothing. How a child can understand this contradiction - on the number line it looks easy, but it does not exist.

To make matters easier, he hit upon the idea of this one-liner – a zero is zero and it will not become a hero under any circumstance! He drilled the concept into her mind that zero is nothing and whatever position it occupies, it shows no appreciation in value. This he did not realise as an over kill. This comedy ended as a tragedy, a few days later. But, what his granddaughter did in the class resulted in a call for the parents to meet with the teacher. When told of this, the naughty girl quipped ‘with or without the hero’, sheepishly pointing at  her grandfather. 

This was enough for my daughter to call the riot army to march all over me. She had an axe to grind- I had not discovered this noble property of zero, while tutoring her decades ago! 

Like a school student standing in front of the principal, I fidgeted, twirled my thumbs and remained mute. Pity or impatience took over the reins and the stand-off fizzled out, when all of us retired to our safe corners. 

 I know, this rumbling volcano of my daughter, will spew out gentle wisps, for a day or two, after all it is her father. For my part, I gently twisted my granddaughter's ear and asked her why did she do what she did? I got a one-word response, " What?" in an AI generated voice and vanished like a switched off hologram.

Not to be left behind, my grandson inadvertently laid a trap, into which I happily stepped in. As he stepped down from the school bus, I was shocked to see him, with palm closed over his left eye. Usually, he runs toward me, hugs and immediately hands over his school bag and lunch bag. 

His sister came down next, with a serious face. I sensed that something has gone wrong. Posing like Moshe Dayan, he blurted out that someone has hurt his eye and he is barely able to see. I was taken by his facial expression and accompanying tear-jerking dialogue - an Oscar worthy performance, His sister, still remained serious without uttering a word. The three of us made the trip to the doctor. I came out with a litre of black paint on my face (grandson’s hoax call) and incurring additional expenditure for two cups of ice cream, as penalty. 

At home, mother and daughter joined the chorus of tirade against me, for spoiling them with ice cream when specifically, been told not to so.  Their breathless monologue left me speechless, as the frantic signals from the kids forbade me from explaining the background. He mused, once you have given in, it is nothing but all the way, on the highway, of course with a toll!

 

The heavenly dilemma:

All the second-rung gods and goddesses, worth their boons, had gathered for a marathon meet. Brahma had been roped in to preside over as he had the least of bother from earthlings seeking boons, waivers, write offs with or without haircuts. 

With no other option but to accept, he brought along Chitragupta and Yamadharmaraj, in case of an out of the box solution might be called for.

Though the presence of Yamadharmaraj was not that essential, he did not want to churn, not even a pot of controversy. He did not know what would happen. 

This starter shook the legs of the very seat he was sitting on. Brahma was asked why he could not have curbed these tendencies during creation? Should they take it as a deliberate attempt to put them all in trouble? They thought since Brahma was the behind-the-scenes causative; he might have twisted the DNA yarn a bit differently.

Brahma regretted his decision to chair the meeting. This curve ball he didn't expect and sat defenseless. Glancing aside, he saw Chitragupta nodding his head after Yamadharmaraj whispered something. 

Brahma looked a little amused and wondered whether they are trying to bury the hatchet or holding a consultation in the sidelines! His doubt got automatically cleared when Chitragupta passed on a note, under the table. As he started reading, Brahma broke into a wide grin and patted himself for bringing along these two. 

Brahma was pretty impressed with the points for counterattack: (a) I don't get to sport avatars like the others (b) Even if I had, I would not have gone about distributing boons so freely, as I don't get easily convinced and (c) Most of the rishis wrote stacks of slokas and such things only about them. and not on me. With this timely input, he was able to fire at least a few salvos, himself.

It was a blunder to give insights to rishis. What they went about doing was writing slokas to praise and pry loose boons. You were all happy when extolled extensively and granted boons, without wasting time, by the baskets. 

Why the earthlings would not almost demand the same treatment as they had studied these scriptures, detailing the boons granted to many bad apples?

At present they have got accustomed to regimes of freebies. Now, all of you have issues with the unprecedented clamour for more from these boon seekers rather boon hunters. 

In various avatars, did I go about seeking such characters doing penance, tapas and gladly granting boons without forethought. Some recipients turned them into a twin edged sword, no surprise there!

Brahma had the satisfaction of a hit on the target.

Think about it like this. Why all the above issues - wanting more and threatening with swords - happened or happening? Certainly, not because of my doing! Brahma scored a second hit.

In stunned silence, the entire gathering of gods and goddesses started shaking heads, fidgeting fingers and then sat like statues. 

To give them time to contemplate, Chitragupta suggested a break.  After announcing an adjournment, Brahma trooped out with Chitragupta and Yamadharmaraj. He wanted to use this break to work out a strategy to tackle the issues. Chitragupta and Yamadharmaraj came up with probable questions and suitable answers. Brahma hoped, at best, this could give him a handle on the situation, when the session reconvened.

As expected, the second attack was on the chants and rishis. The collective assembly pointed out the times of rishis had come and gone long, long back. 

Looking at his clue-sheet, Brahma counter-pointed out - though rishis have become an extinct species, the hymns still exist. Of course, after heaping praises on themselves, they have kindly included your name also, though as a footnote. Not only that, stepping on the shoulders of the gullible devotees, a mushroom growth of avatars and gurus are already doing hectic business, making up their own hymns. Is it not?

Again, their missile going off target, the assembly then came up with the question how could we avoid donning avatars meant to mingle, suffer with and to impart bhakti and morality to the populous? 

Brahma had already glimpsed at the near enough answer but to add a bit of drama, he waited a few ticks. In the meanwhile, the assembly sensed the smell of victory that was about to pervade the chamber. 

Simple. If you all had curbed the desire to use the power of boons, no need for many avatars, many rishis and many sacred texts.  The assembly, after hearing Brahma's reply, took a step back to work out a face-saving counter argument.

How could we hold powers without exercising them? Oh Brahma, don't you know only a hunter has to go after a pretty but not the other way around?

Undaunted, Brahma replied, "That was precisely the reason I said all of you all should have curbed the desire to exhibit the vested powers. I quote from your own example, the moment a prey senses the presence of a hunter, it escapes. The hunter need not even hint his killing skills." 

Brahma admired Chitragupta's this quick retort, hurriedly written and passed on in time. The assembly lost one more missile that strayed way off target.

How do we overcome this?

Anticipating this very question, the duo had drafted a succinct answer. Brahma liked the manner in which they had managed to bring the spotlight on to him. Beaming with pride, he cast all his eyes on the duo in acknowledgement. While Chitragupta took it as a normal gesture, Yamadharmaj experienced a chilling effect, and worried that normalcy had not yet returned among them.

Brahma continued, after going through the note, " Controlling the desire to grant boons might give you all the feeling of deserting the devotees. Had it not made the devotees to think, in simple terms, ring the bell and bag the boon? There are no easy-way or hard-way but only one way - that is my way. Meditation upon meditation."

Truly at this point, the assembly looked thoroughly confused and became silent by this unexpected prescription. They started to wonder whether it was a mistake to invite Brahma to chair the meeting or allowing his minions to attend the proceedings. They knew Brahma's penchant for meditation and suspected the hands of the minions for giving that clue.

A weak voice asked, "OK. Still, we would be disturbed by the clamour of boon seekers. Then what is the use of your suggestion?"

Brahma with a benign smile plastered all over the face said, " That is why the suggestion was for meditation upon meditation. The first one is to shut down the disturbance and the second one is aimed at reaching the goal."

Noticing the frantic signals from Chitragupta, Brahma got the message and promptly declared the meeting closed. Before the assembled members could realise, the entourage vacated the chamber.

During his meditation, Brahma could not exclude the glow of satisfaction about the duo's counter points and seeding of the idea for a double dose meditative course turned out to be nothing short of a master stroke. Unable to continue, Brahma decided that the interruption in itself was a process in mediation.