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.”