Idiota

How wonderful would it be if we could channel our rage, rant and rambling into something creative. That is a time when the mind speaks without constraints, rattles without any holds barred and gives a bloody damn about the consequences. This is a time I show my boring, pragmatic and rational self the middle finger and become an entirely different and probably even interesting character. But as the title suggests, I ain't really feeling an aura of awesomeness around me like Barney Stinson, but rather feeling like someone whom I would usually laugh at, a complete idiot! Though Aamir Khan has made it incredibly cool to be one, I must say it ain't really so cool.

What really happened that has brought on this antagonistic tone? What are the events that led to the realization of my momentous stupidity? I know readers would revel in the gorier details, but I am not inclined to go any further. Well, isn't it modest enough of me to admit I am feeling stupid. Yes, it most certainly is. Is there someone to blame? Yes, of course. We all love scapegoats, don't we? But where was my head when I needed it the most? Oh, it says it has an excuse - the four letter word. No, not the one which begins with an 'f'. The more mushier one. How lame. Yes, I know you are thinking exactly that, but you don't need to say it out aloud.

So, have I become a sceptic now? Maybe I have. What happened to the eternal optimist? Oh, that naive kid? Consider this his obituary. May his soul rest in peace. He was a nice guy. I knew him well. Diabetically sweet. Died of heart failure. Can't believe I actually found the last line funny. Well, before any of you probe queries or want to say things like 'shit happens', I would issue a disclaimer saying that descriptions are often over-exaggerated to make them sound more vivid. So, I am completely fine. Moreover, the idiota who needed sympathy is dead. Isn't he?

It's Not Really That Simple

A recent conversation made me wonder that there is a strong tendency to perceive ‘simplicity’ as a personality attribute in a very stereotypic manner. When a girl is said to be ‘simple’, there is often an implicit assumption that she is the ‘holier-than-thou, god-fearing, take home to mommy’ type or a ‘behenji’. Being simple is not being naïve, foolish or anachronistically conservative. Simplicity and sophistication aren’t mutually exclusive at all. I am of the opinion that it is much more about having simplicity of thought and not having countless different insatiable pursuits in life, but rather having just a few variables that you derive happiness and joy from. Even if she is materialistic, few other gifts would give as much joy as that very affordable clichéd red rose.

Thanks to the abuse of ‘simplicity’ as a personal attribute by the pathetic modern day mass media, being ‘complicated’ or ‘sophisticated’ seems to be the next coolest thing to do if you can’t be a rockstar. Its not just the case with the ‘people’ side of simplicity being abused. Lengthy reports, unnecessary graphs, forceful appendices to drive home the most simple and intuitive of points? We are at the heart of complicating things. Maybe it becomes necessary to justify our apparently fat paychecks. In that aspect, I totally concur with what one of my favorite marketing professors had to say, “If you can’t explain it in one line, Chief, you simply haven’t understood it well enough!”.

Doing justice to the topic at hand, I wouldn’t really drag on for the sake of dragging on just because I have an ‘ideal’ post length that I subconsciously feel that I should try and adhere to even if I don’t have any value to add. Ha, look at the sentence I have just written. In short, I could have just said, "I am signing off now as I don't have anything else to write'. But again, its not that easy being simple and ‘to-the-point’. Worst of all, it might not even be appreciated. So good luck being sophisticated and complicated :P

Gracias,

Anand

Selective Perception : Beware

This is a post where I acknowledge to have begun writing with no idea in mind about what I want to write about. Usually, I begin with a title in mind and then build on the idea, but its going to be the reverse this time. For quite sometime I have been telling myself that I need to post something, but I guess I just get too worked up thinking that I need 'something' to write about. Two years of this place should actually have equipped me to carry off 'nothing substantial' as 'something substantial'. The regular crib of being busy and a hectic life keeping me from posting is still valid. I still have to finish reading a case for the meeting at 2, do some independent research, clean my room, work on my resume and of course in the background attend classes and all sorts of group meetings. Now that I have spoken about all the things that are supposed to keep me away from blogging, another one might be that I am unsure about whether some of my thoughts should go on the public domain, compounded by the fact that I am not at my imaginative best.

It is interesting how we often tend to see things the way we would like them to be rather than the way they really are. I am all up for eternal optimism and its positive fallouts, but times when naive optimism gets really disconnected with reality is when one should start worrying. But of course, one is just too naive or just is too illusioned with what he or she wants to see to start worrying at the right time. People who consider themselves as realists, rational and pragmatic in reality do not completely know themselves but think they do. Rationality is a farce. We are not rational most of the times. Its a super simplified assumption economists make so that they can devise theories, feel great about themselves and win Nobel Prizes. Not to say it doesn't have its benefits, but its limitations are far more understated.

At the end of it all, there is often a feeling of 'How stupid could I have been', 'Shouldn't I have known', 'The signs were so obvious all the time', "I was such an idiot' and to think that one considered himself mature just makes you laugh at yourself. However, from such realization comes a learning experience that has few or no parallels. How vulnerable we really are or rather how much of a tendency we have to make ourselves extremely vulnerable is a surprising revelation indeed. Unsure of whether what I have written would make sense to anyone, I would usually make an attempt to make things clearer, but not this time. I would rather leave a disclaimer on the lines of 'Everyone is free to make their own assumptions which might or might not be verified by the author depending upon his mood' :D

Cheers,

Anand

Europe Diaries: Amsterdam

After numerous promises made to myself and innumerable procrastinations later, I finally decide to write about my Euro Trip experiences. Given the fact that I have seen quite a lot of Europe by now, one might think it would have been a difficult choice to decide where to start with. However, the choice was surprisingly simple on a lot of counts – According to chronological order it was the first trip I had undertaken; The culture shock experienced there ensured that it truly was an entirely different experience compared to anything else I have seen till date; Starting with wild experiences at the sex capital of the world sounds like an exciting beginning; Also, another silly coincidence being that it precedes everything else in the alphabetical order as well :P

The reason for Amsterdam's notoriety was not something that I was unaware of. In fact, I remember having read about it in the papers back in school and discussing it animatedly with one of my friends. For the few who don't have a clue of what I am talking about, here is some trivia – Netherlands is a country where both prostitution and drugs are legal. Yes, I would have written the sentence again to re-emphasize the effect, but you can always read it again. The argument is that since these are things which will thrive no matter how many restrictions the government imposes; it actually makes sense to legalize it and hence be in a position to control it.

'Red light District (RLD)', 'Coffee Shops' and 'Canals' are the three important things in Amsterdam's 'must-do checklist' without which one cannot be said to have a complete experience of the city. I realize the excitement about the RLD and the curiosity about the Coffee Shops, so I better talk briefly about the canals first as there is a high probability that the readers might ignore it if it comes later. In few sentences, Amsterdam is a city of old canals dug up in the 13^th century and it is still possible to go around the city in boats, though it is not a very pleasurable experience as the water is not very clean. Some people live on the canals in squarish house-boats. Every year a lot of bicycles and cars fall into the canals, which frankly seemed quite stupid to me.

(T-B: One of the many canals in the city; Bus Tours – We took one of those for 8 Euros)

RLD - the most talked about part of Amsterdam is actually situated very centrally; about 10-15 minutes walk from the central station. Interesting trivia is that the name RLD, which has gained universal acceptance actually originated from Amsterdam, where there still are red-lights in front of every sex-worker's office. During the day, it is a very touristy area with old buildings by the canal. In fact we were having a lot of trouble finding it during the day, when we were actually walking right through it. But as soon as evening set in, the area lit up true to its name. Our first realization that we were in the RLD was when I mistook a skimpily clad prostitute behind a glass door for a mannequin in a bikini store. An involuntary male reflex-action second glance revealed that it actually was a real girl. Soon after, we could see numerous such mannequins posing in front of the glass doors under red-lights and red-curtains. But even then, there is never a 'shady' feel to the area as one might imagine. It still is very touristy and a lot of tourists come with their spouses or partners to just have a look and it is very safe to do so. The feel of the place is very difficult to express in words and photographs are prohibited in the area. Imagine a canal, clothes shops lined up on both sides of it with glass doors and bikini-clad women looking at you invitingly by making suggestive gestures. It is like an amusement park with 'sex' as the theme and for the first time one indeed looks like a kid in a candy store. After the initial excitement set in, it was actually saddening to see real human beings being reduced to commodities in order to match the carnal demand and supply curves. One can keep arguing for and against prostitution, but that enough is something which can easily take up another post in itself.

(T-B : Notice the Red Tube-Lights and Red Curtains; Though the picture is small, one can see a 'live mannequin' in blue in the middle of the picture, behind a glass door)

Now that we are done with the sex, it's time for drugs. Whenever you see the words 'Coffee Shop' written in any store in the Netherlands, please don't go in expecting to order a steaming hot cup of cappuccino or expresso to enjoy in the cold weather. It actually is a store which has a legal permit to sell marijuana in limited quantities to anyone above the permissible age limit. The forms in which it is available are 'Raw' – the real thing which you are supposed to roll into joints and smoke, 'Pre-rolled joints' – for the newbies who have no clue how to roll, 'Space Cakes' or 'Hash Brownies' – for those who want to get high enjoying the taste of chocolate and also those who can't smoke up. Other than the above three common forms, some chose to differentiate with specials like 'Space Tea'. Probably they felt that it would be an injustice to the name 'Coffee Shop' if there isn't any coffee or tea served. There obviously is the very strong and distinctive smell of marijuana smoke inside these coffee shops. And a very important thing is that smoking inside is prohibited. Well, to be more precise, smoking tobacco is prohibited, but smoking marijuana isn't ! 'Only pure smoke allowed' and 'No Tobacco' signs indeed seemed extremely funny, but probably they are necessary to preserve the 'sanctity' and 'ambience' of the place. Some renowned coffee shops have a menu of different types of weed available and with the number of options available; it would give a menu of any decent bar a run for its money.

(T-B : Bulldog – The oldest & biggest chain of 'coffee-shops' in Amsterdam; Sex Palace – A place to see 2-min 'live' Peep shows for 2 Euros)

Whenever I talk to the Dutch about Amsterdam and the culture shock people experience there, they always issue a disclaimer saying it's just Amsterdam and the rest of Netherlands isn't like that. And seeing Rotterdam, Delft and Maastricht, it indeed is very true. Though I did see a handful of coffee shops in Maastricht, but the world's oldest profession isn't practiced so openly anywhere else in the country. Microsoft Word tells me that this post has just crossed a thousand words and I realize that it is a bit too long, but the author felt it would be doing injustice to the city if lesser words were used to describe and the feeling could have been compromised. More entries in the 'Europe Diaries' will definitely follow suit.

Gracias, (Just got back from Spain today :P)

Anand

Opposites

No matter how much I claim to be able to step in the other person's shoes and view things from their perspective, it is really difficult when the current context and mindset are as far apart as they could possibly be. While I am in Europe having the time of my life in a perpetual vacationing mood for three and a half months, it is very difficult to understand the situation of someone who is busy preparing for one of the most crucial steps in their career. On contemplating, which I have a good or bad habit of doing, I realize that frequent status updates or long, vivid and elaborate descriptions about my European travel conquests can actually seem quite irritating to people who are burning the midnight oil and trying to accomplish something important. The effect is probably similar to rubbing salt on one's wounds. However, these are situations we are stuck in and can't help for some time. It would be foolish to not enjoy when in Europe and not slog when it matters most. Expecting the other to do the opposite is natural human tendency, but is best if avoided.

I now realize that there is either a lack of vocabulary or a gaping hole in my own vocabulary for describing a phase which is definitely more serious than a simple infatuation, but would probably be stretching it too far it if called love. Facebook has probably noted this and conveniently wants people to call this phase as "Its complicated". However, when the rush seems to be towards keeping things short and simple, 'complicated' doesn't really gel well with the scheme of things. Speaking of facebook, I recently happened to watch "The Social Network" – a real life story of how Facebook came into being. Thankfully, it didn't glorify the successful Zuckerberg, but kept characters realistic having varying shades of grey. A billionaire in his 20s! Sigh! One never knows what will become larger than life. A drunk geek after a break-up blogs about his ex and creates the preliminary version of facebook in one night – which was meant to rank the relative 'hotness' of girls! I probably should stack up some of the liquid one day and hit the keyboard. I wish some contemporary literary blockbuster masterpiece churns out and I don't have to worry about my wallet any more for the rest of my life.

I really think I should sum up my experiences country-by-country and start a series titled "European Diaries" with posts dedicated to awesome places like Amsterdam, Paris, Berlin, Switzerland & the French Riviera. I already am getting the feeling that the Euro-Trip is nearing its end and I should document this experience to read later and think about the wonderful time spent here. I should have been reading some literature for my classes tomorrow and packed my bags for the Spain trip already, but last-moment panic is an integral part of my life. There seems to be just not enough excitement without it.