All because her name was Dumbhead

The year was 2007, when Orkut used to be a thing. Remember Orkut? People used to have cartoons and actors for profile pictures (predominantly females), apparently because the internet was thought unsafe to upload personal pictures. And today they feel comfortable uploading pictures of their families in swimming pools. Ah, progress.

It wasn't just the picture. Back then, it was thought unnatural to name your profile with your actual name. Nah, it had to be something like:
"K!ShoRe...~~exams~~" or
"black hole is... here ...no chance of escape."
I actually found that second one on email. Seriously.

So there I was, scrapping and snooping into profiles, satiating the ever growing need of wanting to know what's going on in other people's lives - and I came across an interesting profile.

I don't recall the picture - but it was a girl - and the name was Dumbhead.

Dumbhead. The idea of self-deprecating humor may have been alien to me then, but even so, it seemed quite a stretch. Why would anyone name themselves that? Failing to control my curiosity, I scrapped her with this question.

Actually I had done it once a year ago (2006), to which there was no response. So I thought I'd have another go. That's right - I chose curiosity over self-respect. And it worked.

Well I wish I had the actual conversation to share, but alas. Succinctly put, it was a justifiably angry response - saying how I am being nosy and should mind my own business.

My response was a mixture of charm and wit (or so I'd like to believe), but she was mortified. And we did have one mutual friend, which I think may have legitimized my existence, as opposed to the possibility of a serial killer. We started scrapping.

Such was the delight I took in our conversations, that I used to open Orkut in my first color Nokia phone, discussing Wimbledon and books. We shared our passions, fears and complexes. And it was all in a friendly spirit strictly, nothing more. Numbers were exchanged at some point but unused.

While in college, I once got a call from her on my birthday. The feeling is hard to describe, when you've been chatting for so long, and then you hear each other's voice for the first time. There wasn't any squeamish apprehension; we were both eagerly waiting for that moment.

There were a few calls now and then after that, and I couldn't believe this random internet pen friend had lasted throughout my college. When I had suggested meeting in the early years, her responses seemed polite. But the impulse was growing stronger with every year, and we both seemed up for it - however since I no longer stayed in Noida, the opportunities were scarce.

In my three years at Deloitte, the talking obviously reduced, but it didn't exactly cease. Our friendship was like a candle - the flame just persisted, even with the diminishing wax of time.

We came close to meeting a couple of times in Ahmedabad, and once in Noida - but that moment kept eluding us.

A week into my summer internship in Bombay (2015), she told me of her upcoming visit. The city of dreams seemed to have finally granted me my wish.

And so on a particularly hot summer morning outside Bandra station, I jostled through the crowd, looking for my radiant friend. The great wait of eight long years finally ended. I half-expected the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack to start playing.

But life isn't a movie. She was loaded with some shopping bags, and the scorching sun was making her fan herself. Expecting her to run towards me in slow motion, seemed a little too much to ask. In any case, straight-line movement is next to impossible outside a local station.

Bandra Station: Where we finally met

Regardless of how much you know someone online, meeting in person is just not the same. It takes a lot of courage to meet someone for the first time, even for an innocent breakfast. It becomes easier when there're people for company.

Once we took our seats and ordered food, Dumbhead became a lot more relaxed and we yapped like we always have. You know that scene from Lord of the Rings when Gandalf tells King Theoden to wield his sword, so that he remembers his strength?
I think it was the same for us - only that instead of swords, we held spoons and forks. We both love food.

She is a long way away from dumb. She reads a variety of books, has great taste in music, and her passion for food and cooking is a rare delight. She's an exceptionally kind and patient woman, which was evident from the way she spoke to the waiters and the auto-driver. I had always admired her smile in pictures, and finally got to witness it in person. The warmth had little to do with the sun.

A few weeks ago, she told me she'd gotten an internship, and how thrilled she was. Sharing such moments personally with someone makes one feel special, and that moment gave me the final push to share this story.

We remain close friends.

All because her name was Dumbhead.

Taking off in the MBA Flight

In the beginning of the movie Batman Begins, when Bruce Wayne finally scales the mountain and reaches Ra's al Ghul, he is huffing and panting.

Ra’s: Are you ready to begin?

Bruce: I… I can barely stand.

And then he gets kicked to the ground. A couple of more blows later, Bruce finally starts to defend himself, puts up a fight, and eventually faints.

This is the welcome a b-school gives to you, once you scale the mountain called CAT.

I wasn’t oblivious to this. I have heard friends talk about it. Most of you must’ve heard this too. But it’s not the same thing. It’s like the Matrix; you can’t be told what it is, you have to see it for yourself.

The first couple of weeks aren’t so bad though, when the only thing turning up the heat on you is the Sun. You walk around in campus, and survey the crowds for what IT guys would call leads and opportunities. There is an aroma of new found freedom in the air, and a proclivity towards being irresponsible. 

And then out of nowhere, you are expected to be athletes. A multitude of races are laid in front of you, and your mind starts to spin.

Clubs. Committees. Presentations. Exams. Competitions. CV. Placements. Placements. Placements.

On the very first day, I remember a line from the induction ceremony: “Most of you here; your lives have been graced with success till now. But beware; a lot of you will experience failure here in some way or the other.”

His words started making sense soon enough.

The feeling of complete worthlessness is a phase through which almost every MBA student has to pass. Regardless of what you have achieved before b-school, or how inhumanly talented you are, you will break. There is no escaping it. Winning all the races is out of question.

Yet the fact that some seemingly do better than others is undeniable. Some have that extra spurt of energy for whatever they do. In fact, experienced folks start feeling like a hundred years old, when kids fresh out of grad school run around and speak with over-exuberance. “Who’s that jumpy kid? I hate that bastard.”

Needless to say, extroverts run riot. Poor introverts, especially those who lack self-esteem, are left to question if they even deserve being here. I belong to the latter, and ended up with zero club/committee selections. A couple of selection tasks required me to online propaganda, or write boring articles with fancy words so that it is apt for a newspaper. I blatantly refused. In fact, most tasks will make you ask yourself, “Do I really want to do this? Is this really my thing?” Most of the people do it anyway. While some merely believe they can do it, others would see the incentive – CV points.

The importance of CV points is understandable, when you realize that your batch is full of people like you. It’s not class 9^th anymore, where you were the only one who could speak amazingly fluent English, or write poetry, play football, or play guitar, or have 90+ percent marks in 10^th and 12^th standard. Or even have all of the above. (Actually, not having 90+ percent marks is a crime you’ll pay dearly for throughout this life and the next seven or eight lives.)

I digress. Having gone through the turmoil of this first term, with an internship secured for next summer, I have realized one thing. One may call it a cliché, but that’s why they’re called clichés. They’re lessons we need to learn again and again.

What we have on our resumes doesn’t differentiate us. It’s our attitude that does.

MBA teaches us this critical lesson. Everyone’s paths will be crossed by falls and failure, regardless of your resume. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve broken down like a child myself. But I did not lose faith, thanks to the unbelievable support of my parents. When it mattered, especially during the summer placements, I had it together. It’s what Yoda from Star Wars would call the Force. The invisible shield that acts as a cocoon against all fear, doubt and disbelief; and keeps moving forward.

A word ought to be said about the people. We humans have always shown great unity in adversity, and it is no different for Term 1. Every 1^st year would agree that the seniors made a phenomenal effort to ease our burden, and we’re all encouraged to follow suit next year for our successors.

Life in MBA till now has been like an aircraft taking off, without its passengers wearing seatbelts. Our insides have been properly shaken and stirred, and the plane is now stabilizing into an auto-pilot mode. Hereon, we can either take control and choose our destiny, or sit back and stick with the auto-pilot.

Hereon, the world is at our feet. 

Infinity

I am floating. Flying. Drifting.

The feeling is that of weightlessness.

Gravity is not the only thing that drags us down. We all have our baggage, and get weighed down by several things.

Sandra Bullock, in "Gravity":  One can literally touch the serenity in this scene.

Alcohol, cigarettes, and substance abuse is done by many all over the world to feel free again, from the gut-wrenching pains of life. To feel weightless.

This post doesn't attempt to discourage any of those things. It is merely something else I did last week, when I felt down and out.

Every now and then we slip into negative spirals over the most trivial of things. I slip a little more than normal people, but I have become more and more adept at getting back up.

Last week was such a case. Down and down I went, into the self-loathing phase where even your walk betrays your mood, what with the hunched shoulders. Nothing looked even vaguely fascinating.

Then I picked up a book. And another. And another. Then I decided to watch the most compelling movies of 2013.

The change was quite evident. I felt like having met my long lost friends after years and years. The conscience began to take steps upward. Have you seen a wailing baby, and how it stops only if it's held by its mother? It felt like that.

Once you start moving upwards, you get these amazing ideas. No, not like discovering electricity. They are more like impulses, with a very positive ring to them. This Saturday for instance, I felt this incredible urge to go meet a close friend, who I hadn't met for a couple of months. That's progress, dear readers.

I have this annual tradition of trying to watch all the Oscar nominated movies before the awards are actually given out. Not that I am biased to like only the nominated films. It's just that we in India hear about only the commercially successful films. Anyway, back to the story.

Sunday arrived, and I decided to watch "Rush" the moment I woke up. In this surreal string of movies, I thought some disappointment is in store. Surely the next one can't be any better? But the bar just kept going higher.

"Her" was one of the nine nominated movies, available only in one theater in Mumbai. There was a 1.30 PM show, and a 11 PM show.
The theater was a good 20 kms away.
The clock said 12.30 PM.

Inside my head:

"Sure, the obvious choice is 11 PM now. The night will be cooler to travel, and it's too late to go for the 1.30 show now. 
Or is it?
I need 15 mins to get ready. Which means I'm likely to reach around 1.45, and miss the first 10-15 mins. 
No way.
Or yes way? How about it ? Kishore Pisapati vs Mumbai Traffic.. Kishore and the incredible race against time.. 
..
.....
Get ready, idiot!
It's now or never."

I got off the train at Dadar, and my watch read 1.25. Music was pumping into my earphones, and the track was an adrenaline upping one. I still had to travel 10 mins by cab from the highway outside the station.

Of course, the journey had obstacles. And time was running out. How else would it be fun? Bring it, Dadar.

And so I started to run.

People, peddlers, people, flower baskets, vegetables, garbage, people, people, etc were some of the obstacles. I swerved between and past them with mesmerizing speed. The music had a telling effect.

I took my seat at 1.45, and the movie began two minutes later.

That run was a spiritual experience in some ways. During that run, I had a revelation. I remembered how Jake Sully felt when he first ran in his Avatar, in the movie Avatar. 

You see, it wasn't the physical speed of the body that mattered. It was the mere act of running, and the context, which made me feel like I was flying.

It was weightlessness. To run, without a care in the world. I knew I was out of the pit.

People often give their own definitions to scientific terms, and here's me defining the term 'infinite'.

Infinite is the number of things you can do to enjoy life, at any time, in any circumstances.

The run was an act of passion for my love, the movies. And love needs to be shown, not just felt.

Remember what I said the bar getting raised by the movies I was watching in fast succession? It was hence unfathomable, that any movie could top Rush on the same day. 

"Her" did. It was beautiful.

Infinite is the extent to which you can feel, and live.

No conditions applied.

Peace is Now.

I am at so much peace. It's no surprise I feel like writing now, after such a long time.

Leaning on two pillows propped up on a comfortable bed, I'm living one of my childhood dreams. It's a hotel room, with just me and my stuff in it. Music is playing in full volume on my speakers, and not my earphones. The air conditioning is in my control, just like the music volume, lights and the TV channel.

I don't need my earphones and the app called 'Relax N Sleep' to sleep, for a change. I can sleep whenever I like, and wake up whenever I like, feeling great. 

Whenever I went to hill stations or beaches with my family, I had this crazy fantasy to just lie in my room for a whole day. Away from noise, tourists, pictures - everything.

You, my dear reader, may not understand this, but as disappointing and pathetic as it sounds, this is the first time in many, many years I've felt in total and utter control of my life. 

I realize all this may well be painting me as a sorry ass figure, but fuck that. Fuck that.

My entire life has been about adjusting. To circumstances, to people - to the whole world, wherever I go. I hate myself for it, but I'm one of those people who'd go to any lengths to avoid conflict. Some people can't stand spiders, I can't stand conflict. 95% of my energy goes into putting those conflicts to bay, every single day. Every single fucking day.

But now I realize, after 23 years, that this freedom I'm feeling right now - doesn't come for free. You have to fight for it. Be a doormat, and the world will not only walk over you, it will rub off its dirty shoes on you as well.

I've discovered new, and rediscovered a few friends as well, on this business trip. I marvel at how amazing some people are, really. I marvel more at how much time and energy I spend trying to shake someone's hand by force, and miss out on so many extended hands already outstretched.

It's a whole buffet out there. If the spring roll sucks, trying it with ten different sauces will not change that. Look past that spring roll, and you'll see the garlic bread, fried idli and fruit custard calling out to you, with open arms.

Anyway, the fact of the matter is that my hotel stay will end this week, just like everything else. But now is not the time to think about the future. The only time to think about the future, is the future itself. This freedom, this peace, this control - whatever you call it, is in this moment. Quoting about the value of Now is one thing, knowing it is another. Having tasted and felt it in its full force, I feel better prepared for stepping out of this room.
Let tomorrow come.

Aan do.