Darwin, survival and all that talk

Darwin, the father of evolution proposed the single greatest phenomenon in nature. He observed "survival of the fittest", a grand plan in the scheme of nature, a descriptive force only bettered by the might of creation. The laurels to the observation can go on.

This phenomenon has single-handedly defined our generation. In many ways we are stuck in a rat race which we are involuntarily a part of. We tend to have the survival skills at our sharpest as resources are dwindling and ability to achieve depends on the ability we have.  This generation probably has a hunger that can never be satiated by  nature. 

Everything has grown in our times and gone global, if we look at just one generation before, they wanted to settle for plushy jobs working 9 to 6, have a family and try to move less frequently; today we look for the proverbial "greener pastures" in moving to other countries and taking up better jobs.Change was a dreaded word and no one ever looked forward to it. There was a lot of red tape and underhanded office politics but it was mostly manageable. In todays corporate environment there is no red tape, partly because it promotes quick decisions and brings about progress and partly because the environment is very unstable. The office politics stoops to new lows and sometimes borders on "how much kiss-ass can you give me?". 

The market today changes rapidly, the next big thing integrates more actions into one and alienates people for the most crucial part. There was a day when you were charged extra money to use the ATM and internet banking facilities were never heard of, today banks charge money if you actually step into a physical facility. Its not just the banks here, my cellphone service provider Vodafone used to provide toll free customer service, now I am greeted by a message from some machine saying, " Our IVR menu options have been enhanced to serve you better", and doles out some gibberish that I have to carefully listen. Of course not all things are bad, the exposure to events across the globe, voicing out our opinion for a just cause and easy filing  of taxes are all great. When you ponder over the need for such things its mainly because we don't have time anymore, for a quick chat with our neighbor, or standing in a queue to pay a bill. We complain about travelling  an hour or more in a comfortable bus with push back seats. Our best friends are the people we say "hi" to over a  telephone line. We mostly wait for the weekend to drown ourselves in some mindless entertainment or a pint of beer. We want to fight for causes and make a difference in other people's lives, with no consideration of our own. 

Its all down to a numbers game in the end, how many times have you gone abroad, how many  employees do you have, how much revenue was generated, how much was the profit, how much money did you make, how many people did you help, how many friends do you have on facebook and the list is endless. The rat race is on in every sphere of our lives today, from the corporate world to personal life and in the great words of Darwin "survival of the fittest".  

Writing

The joys of writing are innumerable. As I sit and ponder over the many questions that arise in my daily life and surroundings, I like to write. Its not for the purposes of mere documentation, or recollection at a later point in time. Most of the entries in my dairies have never been read by me. There is a sense of calm and peace I derive from my writing. The visualization of the events and penning them down with the exact phrases to describe my feelings at that moment, gives me an immense euphoric pleasure.

Writing for me is more about my emotions than about writing itself. As I reflect on the one thought that overcame my senses, the one event flashing before my eyes or the one word I held onto dearly, I am reassured.

Most of my writing has been very private, to the point that no one has seen it. The transition I am trying to make to more public writing is difficult, I am not sure I am able to comprehend perception. I like to write my dairies and enjoy them very much, but writing for an audience, trying to convey an idea or an message is much more difficult. The skepticism of acceptance and the baseless ridicule makes me only wish I could elucidate better.

The thinking that goes into my writing is what makes me unique, or so I like to believe. The sense of putting my words in ways that can affect another man's thinking, opening the boundaries and crossing the borders is what makes me write this blog. As I gain more experience and cultivate the skills to write fashionably, I only hope to derive the same pleasure I am doing now.

As I wind up there is a very famous quote that stays with me "cogito ergo sum", "I think, therefore I am".

Friendships

Among the friends we choose we always make a distinction to find the ones with similar interests. We have a strong tendency to bond to other individuals. Why do we do this, and how do we pick out the best of our friends? Is there some magic formula, a common thread that binds us? Are all our friends genetically linked. Is there a science to making friends?

Well of course I am in no position to answer that, but I do observe a very strong pattern and can classify them into two broad categories support and occupational. There are a few of our friends who support us, who are the source of our strength, whom we confide our darkest secrets and desires to. There are the "other guys", the occupational friends, whom we have a working relationship with. As time has passed by and as many things have transgressed over the years the apparent fact is that the importance we give to each of these types of friends differs. I have seen among my own group of friends when sometimes they make out time to come and chat with the "gang" and at other times just plain ignore the invites and search for greener pastures.

My choice among friends has not been based on availability or support, a strong sense of community or fraternity. I am confounded at my own choices in friends. The various strong willed creatures who make up my social circle and entertain me at times and annoy at some others are my prized acquaintances. Some I have met over tea or lunch, others in college, others at social gatherings.This unique set and subset of my social endeavors are incomprehensible as a selection to me. 

As I share a deep bond with my friends and form a kinship with them I see my own new community and family emerge. The source of my strengths and probably my greatest weaknesses. I do not share any genes with  these strangers, yet some are my brothers and sisters, my aunts and uncles. This tendency perplexes my curiosity and only fascinates me further to delve and understand the thinking behind such behavior.

The alter ego

As I write this blog I clearly see my alter ego come alive. The murkiness and gloom that surrounds me seems to wither away as words take shape. The happiness and mirth are a little less joyous and have an undertone of sarcasm. As I write I see myself as another person, a person telling a tale. As I write, I read, in the eye of an espoused reader.

The magical fascination of the alter ego crosses the divine path of the sub-conscious to gather strength in the reality of an unreal world. As I describe,  my alter ego invites a fascination to the many subtleties that  make up the imaginary. As I read my posts I see the writer emerge to discuss philosophies and the train of thought. There are corrections made and small pauses as I think to write. The train of thought deviates only to emerge again stronger than ever.

As we all struggle to make decisions in life so does my writing, it takes many forms. The simple to the subtle, the sarcastic to humorous, many a times merging the many tastes. My alter ego evolves to find its footing and explore the exquisite beauty of writing in a known language. There are simplistic and straight-forward expressions with no hinted metaphors or sarcasm, and there are times I am talking in a cryptic language feigning an appearance I don't wish to reveal to the untrained eye.

There is a certain pleasure I derive from writing, a warm feeling if you wish. The travails of my life and thought may not be interesting or even worth chronicling to any other person. The alter ego emerges only to deviate myself from this train of thought and give way to the whimsical and contemplative writer in me.      

The alter ego is taking shape.

Growing Up

On growing up, in many ways we only grow old and never grow up. There are times of clarity and transcending thoughts which makes me realize the time I have spent. The magical moments are lost on the mirth and generally remind me of the good times. My first fight, the first time I rode my bicycle, my first crush. Among the things I cherish are these memories, they come back to haunt you and tell you of the days you have left behind. The people you have left behind in this arduous journey of life.

As I have grown up I have become more independent, more responsible and more mature. at least the convention warrants it. The joys of my childhood are not lost on me and many of my friends can vouch for this. Growing up for me has meant being more like a kid, I am more possessive, I hate losing more than ever, I crib and play pranks and still enjoy the general innocence people bring with them. In essence I am more a kid now than I was when I was a kid.

The iota of independence and freedom growing up brings is the a breeze of fresh air, and I am using the term breeze because it lasts only so long. The sense of pseudo independence fast withers away to bring the gloom of financial planning and careful career considerations. A multitude of things to deal with, a first taste of office politics, tax that bites your wallets and almost certainly an annoying boss. These are some of the many firsts I would rather not have experienced. At least not till I had grey hair or no hair and traveled the world extensively.

Among all the agony and pain growing up brings I can only remember this famous quote " growing old is inevitable but growing up is optional". Hear Hear

Organized clutter

The moment you step into my room you will see a lot of things strewn across. The main ingredients are unwashed laundry and parchments of lesser significance. A few books I am currently coursing through, a bunch of CDs and storage devices. As the new year marched in I thought of cleaning it up and getting organized, lest  the potential visitors be put to shame over the shabby living conditions of a well to do software engineer.

As I rummaged through my CDs to put together I happened to chance on a collection og Dylan songs. The urge to listen to some Dylan was of course irresistible and I decided to put off my spring cleaning for a while. A few minutes later I picked up my first Freud lying perilously on the edge ready to tumble down at the slightest touch.

The magic of procrastination got the better of me and I totally forgot about cleaning up my desk. The laundry had been thankfully picked by mum for washing. My maid even makes a point of not touching anything in room when she comes into clean. After a while mum picked up most of the stuff on my desk and put them away in drawers. I am guessing she was fed up of the eyesore my room had grown into, she generally dislikes my maintenance and upkeep policies.

Well I had stepped out for a while to cater to my wandering mind and the long holidays. After coming back from a stroll looking at my room I figured out I had a lesson in cleanliness coming my way. Well there was only one problem now, I didn't know where everything was put away. It might have been a good fifteen minutes before I found my Ipod stacked away in my drawer. The book I was currently reading was at the bottom of the pile and I still haven't found the Floyd disc. The lesson in all this, clean your room before you mum does, it takes 15 minutes anyways. I figure it is much better than losing things among the organized clutter.

Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying

As I took an day off from work and sat down to ponder upon the workings of my daily life, a strange feeling crept on me. I think it was part my existential angst and part all the tension that has built up following the app process. I felt the need to do something, shout out from the roof tops or take a hike to some mountain. It felt as if the days were moving very slow and somehow I had no clue how I arrived here.

As i reminisced about work i felt a queer sense of joy, the days when i was a ravaged maniac, trying to squeeze out minutes from every possible thing i did. In my current assignment things are smooth, no hectic schedules to keep up with or arguments over the right approach. Don't mistake me for one of those people who work all the time. I enjoy my free time as much if not more than the person next to me but when i am at work i like to work like there is no tomorrow or yesterday. As a matter of fact, when many of my friends who told me the days they lazed out at work, i thought wow that would be entertaining. How wrong was that notion?

Two years have gone by since i started working. Have these two years been great? You bet on it, they have been some of the best times. Still, i have no clue what i would be doing for the next 10 minutes, given the freedom from the society and culture. Probably i might take to travelling or music, but mostly i would be writing all the while. As i sat through and pondered i could only remember those famous words by andy from shawshank - "It comes down to a choice really. Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying"