Rationality vs Relationship

Kafka once said, "We are sinful not merely because we have eaten of the tree of knowledge, but also because we have not eaten of the tree of life." I would tweak this a bit and say, "We are suffereing not merely because we have eaten of the tree of knowledge, but also because we have not eaten of the tree of life."

One of flowers that blossoms in the tree of life is a new found fondness for a person. As it nurtures and flourishes, it is supposed to bear the fruit of a loving relationship. Confronting life , especially the bud of a possible relationship - how it will hold or how it unfold seem uncertain and unsettling.

I am mortified and not at all confident about it. But how long can I think about and rationalize this way or that. Does fear help? Does action guarantee an outcome I am looking for? Well, I have to gather courage. I don't want to become a Kafka with my self-confidence, but I can't lie at the same time. Huh! I need to blurt it out. I need to get the sinful taste of fruit from the tree of life.

Feeling sort-of like a Vagabond

Traveling for work unleashes and evokes so many different emotions that makes me filled with surprises. The deeper struggle is trying to figure what it is. Sad, pain, relief, anger, depair, helplessness, freedom, detached, urge to seek validation, none of the above, all of the above, part of the above, 10% of this and 30% of that, no!. Return to the hotel room - all cookie cutter rooms - maroon checkered carpet as opposed to the grey ones back in the apartment, dimly lit walls, and the TV that always starts off with the hotel info channel - the same girl's voice with the same lousy elevator type music playing in the background. What does a life of a vagabond bring in? It reinforces that I belong to no where and no one. While the door to my mind keeps flashing the red "Danger - Do not enter" sign with the face of a skeleton above it, like a drug addict who cannot control his indulgence enter into my dungeon - those narrow dark caves of my mind's Greek monastery. My feelings and emotions are fuzzy and can't be categorized in the Aristotleon sense. Walls between feelings are blurry and I am in multiple places. They are cryptic and confused. So I tend to be silent, yet can't resist my constant urge of ordering these feelings into discrete words - in language. So in a Wittgensteinian way, I choose to be silent, which does not mean I have nothing going on inside. Language cannot cope up with my thoughts and feelings. I scanned through the English Thesaurus and did not find the right word to describe myself. Vagabond is just a cheap compromise. Again it is a category and its properties are not totally and completely where I am.

Mumblings from New England

I arrived at Connecticut with a place close to New Haven as the base. After a boring train journey I was off to a happy dinner. There was this lady in midfifties narrating her life. An adopted child who never knew who her parents were until many years later she came to know her mom was a nun. A Catholic nun. Her dad was a Catholic priest. She was telling her dad never knew he had a daughter and died without knowing that. While she was telling her story, I was ripping through Ribye and garden greens in the adjacent table. Truth, at times, is closer than it appears.

French kiss in question?

Will the recent French election change what we have so long considered the holy grail of eating, drinking, and love making? Hereś an interesting article. It is not a mystery that the French have a better health care, child care, public transport, and many other things compared to US and UK. The stats skillfully inserted at the bottom of the article says it all. What happens to France will be interesting. In these days, I am not sure whether any political party has the horse power in any democracy to make such lofty cultural changes. Regardless, the most prominent aspect of these elections were how little the French care for ¨picture perfect¨ family portraits of their leaders. Sego Royal was unmarried with 4 kids. Sarkozy has an unhappy marriage. The bottom line - it does not matter, where national policy is concerned. May be thereś something for us in America to ponder about.

Pamuk's interview in Spiegel is worth reading. Here it is. Here is an excerpt which resonates with my view of a good writer:

"

SPIEGEL: You often talk about craft and patience when you discuss writing -- not unlike the painters of miniature paintings you portray in your book "My Name is Red."

Pamuk: I certainly see myself more as a craftsman than as an artist. Of course, creativity and inspiration do play a role. True literature is more than just a story someone has told. It must provide the reader with the essence of the world on a moral, philosophical and emotional level. I have tried to develop this inner truth in all my works. But without patience and the skill of a craftsman, even the greatest talent is wasted.

On dating

This is cool: check it out - Henry Enjoy. Thanks to Hugh for pointing that out.

Typos suck!

I was skimming through my old posts and with so many typos - I feel like banging my head. Typos are like a smal black spots on a white shirt - they stick out. Rather awfully! I can't avoid looking at them and then spend the next 30 seconds in no-man's land - wondering whether I should fix them or leave it for the next saturday. Zero tolerance is overrated! Just like anything else. My laundry. My dishes. Cleaning my car. Vacuuming. Now typose too go into my list. Fixing the typos in my blog. So what happens if I don't fix them. What happens if they are not perfect? Why do I have to pick up blemishes? Can't I just say - it's okay and move on. Well, I guess I do the same with people too. I look at a girl's long nose and keep wondering - why? And in the process miss out on her lovely lips. Well, typos are not same - I know. There is an absolute right and wrong. But can I just issue a creative license for myself. Why am I behaving soggy and why am I losing my snitch. Why am I glorifying my imperfections and going so far to being lazy. Imperfections out of laziness is not same as imperfections following the best effort. But who will find that out. Are standards just personal. Are others really forgiving for my imperctions or they are just being nice - sometimes of out genorosity and sometimes out of resignation. The real truth about standards seem to be personal. Overall, its way too complicated. Never mind what we demand of others. Typos like other mistakes in life out of laziness need only be justified to me.

Blogging as a therapy

I am still learning about the benefits of the internet. One aspect that I cannot deny is: Ever since I have started blooging, I have enjoyed every bit of it. It has provided me a therapy to soothe my nerves more than anything else. So this time instead of just going into a tirade, I thought of just googling (another blessing from the internet) and see if any one else feel the same way. And viola! I found straight from the doc.

Nandigram and Trinity of Indian Marxists

Much has been written about Nandigram massacre. Blood has flown and may have dried by now. I am a bit late to jump in. But I had to. There seems to be too much be made out of it. I had a long argument with a buddy of mine the other day. That was okay. Nadigram featured in the wikipedia. That was okay too. But when a couple of days back, my coworker mentioned it in one of our usual lunches after hearing it on NPR, I thought may be I should write about it. In the crowd of articles lambasting the state governement, the only article which took a notable stand was Sunanda K Dutta Ray's opinion in the Telegraph. Thank God! At least there was someone who did not sell out his soul.

The reason I decided to write is: It is not that I am a big fan of the Marxist government in Bengal. People know me that I am tilted more towards the right than left. But I think people are getting a distorted and overly simplified generalizations of the Marxist setup within the context of Nandigram.

The Marxists in India are a diverse bunch who sort of tried to organize under one umbrella. It is what I call the trinity and it is important that we do not mix them up. Why they do so? I dont know and it does not matter here. For what its worth here's what I think of each of them.

I may preface my discussion with this: I am passionate about Calcutta and Bengal where I spent my first 25 years of formation. I can safely claim that I have spent a large part of my life close to rural Bengal and have seen the Marxist machinery work. In a remote sense, seeing them, I can convice myself why they are ruling the state for 30 years. They have done some good work in the villages.

First face of Trinity (Keep it): In last few years, with Budddhadev as the CM, I, with many Bengalis had a hope for Bengal. I saw him as a moderate, practical, progressive Marxist who understands real needs and is not ashamed to adopt the Chinese model to move the state forward. I am all for his efforts - whether Mr. Marx blesses him or not. I don't care. I think smart leaders and able leader do not follow a philosophy as a dogma but can adapt them to the needs of the ground, the calling of the time, and the vision of the future. Buddhadev is right on the money - when it comes to industrialization. He has my vote and my support.

Second face of Trinity (Stay away from it): The CPM boys led by Jyoti Basu and the repressionist movement had continued for more than 20 years. They are neither Marxist nor do they belong to any other clubs other than thugs, mafia, and insolent goons. With more than 20 years in existence - it is easy to imagine that they have grown like algae and filled in all empty crevices and cracks in the social and political structure of Bengal. From grassroots to the tallest towers. They do not figure in any rational argument nor any rational group that believes in civility and dignity of human beings. I am scared of them. I stay away from them. Period.

Third face of Trinity (Don't take them seriously or better still - flush them out): Sitaram Yechury, Brinda Karat, Prakash Karat, and their friends from the JNU SFI (past, present, and most likely future). They are a bunch of useless, clueless losers. Spectacled professors, straight A shooters, valedictorians, big talkers, media crazy pompous lampoons, Political theorists. Entertainers in your living room. People who never bother to take the real-life lesson that the world does not run according to their books. They confuse activitism with constructive politics. They are like Mary Antoniette's - "Give them cake if they don't have bread variety." People who have hardly fought a real election. They don't have idea on what goes on. They talk about poverty when have not seen or experienced nothing but a privileged life themselves. Privileged that they could afford to indulge in politics. Pseudo activists who con themselves as "great" political thinkers. Trouble makers not policy makers. Banish them from your minds. Flush their views in your toilet if you want a real life.

Now getting back to the first part of the title - Nandigram. CPM's first face of trinity is doing the right thing with industrialization. The intention is right. The violence was unfortunate. But let's face it. Bengal is not like Gujarat. Unlike govts. in Gujarat, Marxists have done tremendous work in land reforms and local governance at panchayat level. People underestimate that fact because it is not sexy as a oil refinery or silicon valley. No other state comes close (except for Kerala) to Bengal's achievement on that front. In a way, the displacment problem is a result of all the hard work that CPM has done - that farmers have their own land to till. And now they do not want to relocate. Already a fertile territory, Bengal unlike other SEZ (that has been set up in barren lands) there is not much useless land for setting up industries. If industries are to be set up, labor will be mobilized from fertile lands. Either vertically where people learn new skills and work in factories instead of farms. Or, horizontally mobilized - migrate to some other states. It happens all the time in India and in all parts of the world. You will find Bihari laborers in construction work in Rajasthan and Keralite nurses in Punjab. I repeat: I am not supporting violence but it is unavoidable when a greater public good is at stake and is being impeded by a group of thugs and local lords who instigate local farmers.

But, after the masscare, the result was broad criticism on the state apparatus primarily because of CPM's legacy. The first face was blamed for Nadigram as a continum of all the atrocities done in the past by the second face. True, when the seond face was ruling and dominating Bengal, Bengal was running in reverse gear compared to rest of India. And starting from police to local thugs - force and repression was common. Some of these wings have not shed their old feathers and that's what caused the whole massacre. Let's criciticize and bury the dead with the incident. The seond face will be history and we have the opportunity to move on. If we bring back the skeletons, we are forcing state governance and leadership will be forced imitate bad politics. And no one but we are to be blamed.

In this mix, the third face is clouding and making things more difficult. This group as I mentioned have the sex appeal to jam public media. But they leave people confused, agitated, and polarized. They oppose every progressive policy center makes - many consistent what Bengal government is taking. They dilute the credibility of the organization and immerse the future of state. Leaves people wondering - who is the real CPM - these clowns or the Bengal government voted by the people.

I wish there was a better way to structure the politburo in Delhi. I feel sorry for Buddhadev. But I hope good things for Bengal. I believe most people realize that. At least, I know that about Bengal. How the rest of India views this - I care less. Bengal politics was one of a kind anyways. My bets are the factory in Nadigram will be built - once the wounds heal and the dust settles down.

Musings of a deranged saturday mind

I was out in the party. Saw a million women around . Most of them pretty, lively, and smart. Dancing to the beat. How do I go and speak to the "one"? So I look for a familiar face. Find them. And spend the evening with them. They are cute. Funny. Sassy. Time passes by. Midnight clock strikes. I am half-drunk. Look for the subway back. And I Take it. Two girls sitting next to me. Two strangers. One was sublime. The other lost. But trying to be funny. She was gazing an empty bottle. The bottle was rolling on the floor - from me to her and back. She smiled and said, "It's not me." "You are giving me ideas," I quipped. But hmm... not interested. I was fixed on the other girl. I saw peace, quiet, and a face that was telling me a long story. Asking me to fill in the words. What's lurking behind those soleful eyes? Is she lonely? Is she looking for love? Is this love? How can that be? No, may be just a wanting to love. But huh! How do I go and tell her that? So "I was sitting in the fence". Her station came. She got off. My jorney continued. To my empty bed. I write this. I kiss this. Oh! well I might just go and kiss the air.

"I always dreamt of being ...." - Oh Crap!

"I had this dream to become an movies star." I am so sick of hearing people saying such things. "Ever since I was a kid I thought that's what I will become." Remember Ellen in this year's Oscars - "I always wanted to host the Oscars." You guys - give me a break, will you.

If only people could reach to where they are just by taking a flight in their dreams. Dreams are not enough. I had a dream - of becoming a mango. I ran and ran and ran -- more than I ever thought I would. Yup! Trust me. And guess what? I turned to be an "apple". Should I say now - I wanted to be an apple? Liar. Seriously, I am tired of hearing this. If only life ran according to the - ever-since-I-was-a-kid-I-had-a-dream way. Loads of BS that at best drives me nuts in mae of giving some vicarious pleasure.

Yes, I may have fallen over the cliff and have become cynical. Maybe as some might think that I simply don't "get it" and still don't get it. Fair enough. Here's the truth. I never had dreams. I did loads of daydreaming bunch of them, and I still do. But to imagine that they will become reality - boy, let's not kid myself here. I do hope something somewhere somehow I'll get close. Hope is much more abstract than my tangible daydreams. Daydreams like: driving at 55 mph during the rush hour in the Beltway. Singing along with the Stones to rock the world. Getting a seat in the ariplane next to sexy girl. Writing something and seeing The New Yorkers and Vanity Fairs running behind me. Whoa!

What I have become and where my life is headed -- I don't have a clue. How I have arrived at this point -- I don't know how it happened. Merely a series of random accidents. I can't retrtace my steps. I can't find my back. I have no control of how things happen. I don't know what things will be thrown at me in future. All I do is hope that I can duck, may be swing myself, and deflect it in a way that's not that bad for me. For now, I can dream that I can always go for hitting out of fence.

Vegetating

My mind has been vegetating for the last few days. I feel like a sloth. It seems like one of the dull patches when the weather, and lunch deli all seems to be consipring to make my head heavy and sleepy. I wake up, go to work, keep glaring at the screen - emails, NYT, and Dow Jones. Lunch, and more of the fluorescent screen, drive back, gym, dinner, and sleep. Run that ten thousand times and there goes my life - my future. Of course I know that not true. Yup! I have plans! I began by reading my own stuff that I posted over the last few months. Gosh! some of them seem to be great, but large part seems to be utter garbage. Reminds me of some filmaker who said he finds his own work intolerable. I can now see his point. I sound so preachy, at times boring... oh! man! I can't go further. So it is good that my mind vegetates for a while. A rested mind and body will be good. That's what I hope.

Coming home to The Namesake

In the last few days I realized that I cannot escape myself from “something” related to the movie “The Namesake”. It has been a common topic of conversations among my friends. Even last week, when I crisscrossed the nation on a Jetblue flight from DC to SF and back, there were trailers shown in one of their “36 channels of Direct TV programming”. Quite repeatedly, in fact. So, what’s so? Nothing much. Actually, I was browsing Barnes and Nobles today and even picked up the CD. The checkout girl thought the movie has been released – to which I quite solemnly replied, “not is DC, only in SF, LA, and NYC.”

It was a little more than a year ago when I read the novel. I don’t know why I picked it up. Probably, I heard a note somewhere that Jhumpa Lahiri was a good story teller. In some of her interviews, she seemed honest and genuine. Before that I was not so keen on reading about novels or stories on identity conflicts and the whole subject seemed quite trite and boring. In a way, it was too close to reality to even think about it. But, things were a bit different this time. The novel was compelling and riveting. It hooked me on right away. Thank God, I picked it up on Friday evening, which meant I did not have to qualm about dropping the book aside – and worry about going to work the next day. And so page after page, I read on – under my bedside lamp in one corner of the world – my then home in town in North Carolina.

It was as if in some sense my fears, agonies, crises were being depicted and being underscored. I felt – if it were possible for the story to go on and on without an ending. It finally did end, and I did not like the ending. It was well - what's the answer - too ????? for me. I wish it never happened that way. Will he find happiness? It was all the more bothersome because I was living into the character most part and in the end I did not want to end up like that. I did not want to be another addition to long list of forlorn looking-for-peace human beings housed in the richest country. And then I looked my own self and could easily detach myself. I had company then.

What a twist of fate? Within a month – a storm blew away my marriage and I was in face of the earth left thinking that I was “destiny’s child” again. As I resurrected and reconstituted myself in the last year through multitude of travels, relationships, and explorations, I still seek my home. I see myself running towards the horizon grasping for something that may be nothing but “hope” itself.

While the movie will open in my city in the next month or so, I believe I am going to love the ending too. In the last year, I have sensed that it is possible to have a happy life without a happy ending. I appreciated real freedom to sense, perceive, and feel one with myself.

Many people believe - What we don’t want to see in life we love to see it in movies and novels. This novel does not meet that expectation. And may be that’s what so great about it. To understand that hope as an object can be as strong a reason to live as what is actually hoped for. One year later, I find myself not to be so different from Gogol. Searching and set-out to discover the world. Living into a life where journey and destination have collapsed into a nebulous cloud. “The End” never happens here. There is no silver lining. Remember Tagore’s masterpiece short story “The Homecoming”? - about a confused, vulnerable teenager at the crossroads of childhood and adulthood who finally gets to come home - the eternal abode called death

I don't want to die so soon. I care to enjoy this journey - coping with my changing identity, changing contexts, and a changing home. Yes, I am driving towards the horizon - an endless cycle of life.

Arranging Marriages through Blind Dates

During my undergrad existence I remember - to get a to get a blind date you really had to be a stud! One had to belong to a different league altogether . With a geeky look, nerdy characteristics, and paunchy belly, I was located in a different dating planet. Fast forward a dozen years and things have become quite the opposite. With Shaadi.com, match.com, eharmony.com, etc., turning out to be the most prominent (or only) platform to meet someone, blind dates are becoming the rightful way to keep my life going on tracks to take me somewhere. The more I get used to this concept, as alien as it may be, I can't think much different from what I feel in an arranged marriage. Can anyone tell me what's the difference? Even if the platform is a podium to get introduced and then catapault that inital meeting into a full blown romantic relationship - preferably culminating in a marriage, I can't quite agree it is same as a typical "love marriage."

Relationship starting off through any of these platforms do not have an organic seeding. You start off sipping through the vanilla latte in Starbucks because knowing fully that you are tolerating each other because you want to get married - and not necessarily you just want to hang out - with no strings attached - without the need to go anywhere, accomplish anything. How different is then such a meeting from those engineered by parents in initial stages of arranged marriage. Looks like the dynamics that propel an arranged marriage discussion runs these "blind dates" too. A hit or miss. To get a second date requires a stronger doze of initial chemistry which is in quite contrast to the way typically people fall in love. More often than not, love strikes in unexpected quarters and worse, it may not strike in the first meeting. How many times, I have fallen in love with a person, after knowing her all too well, with whom I practically dont remember the very first meeting. But once I am in it - I am attracted, not to mention, waltzing in the conversation with her.

So is chemistry over-rated? How about just giving it a shot anyway? Or, if it's just that speck of attraction - a huntch that - she may be the one. Who knows what works?

Slow cooking in relationships

Faire de la bonne cuisine demande un certain temps.
Si on vous fait attendre, c'est pour mieux vous servir, et vous plaire.
Good cooking takes time.
If you are made to wait, it is to serve you better, and to please you.
Menu of Restaurant Antoine, New Orleans

I read this when I came across The mythical man-month which was a book written several years back on managing large scale software development. Is this applicable to relationships too?

I have been wondering how critical attraction between two people needs to be. Chemistry, connection... I keep trying to understand - experientally as well as intellectually. The concept seem to lie farther and farther. Maybe, the less I try to figure it out, the less I will struggle. Maybe I will get it. Wishful thinking! Defeatist resignation! Regardless, the question is how about those relationships that grow over time. People say that's the way trust works. Is trust more important than chemistry? Does one feed into the other? Do some people fare better than the others? Can I learn? I don't know. Looks so much fuzzier.

I wish I get attracted to someone soon. I would let the "slow cooking" take its time to role out a solid relationship. Then, I guess I will have posterity to back up and prove that I fulfilled in delivering chemistry, connection, and what not. As of now, it simply does not exisit.

Nurse the Curse

Start afresh. A new beginning. My close friends who in all honesty keep boosting me. Without getting into the details, a new beginning is never the same. In fact, with every broken relationship there is something ugly that creeps in. Or, may be something is taken away.

It all began last year - on this date as I worked my way into single life. A couple of quick flings later - where am I now? No more goose flesh or racing heart. Not anymore. Beauty does not touch my skin easily. Only the eyes - perhaps. Aweful! Mellowed spirit tries to find love and avoid contempt. LOL!

Learning from The Lion King

"It's good to be the king. You lie around all day. You have two beautiful blond wives, much younger. They do all the work. When they take too long, you cuff them away and chow down on nice chunks of meat served rare. Hmmm, then it's time for (yawn) nap No. 4. If a new gal comes into town, you can take her in. The wives may howl, but that's too bad. What are they going to do, find another king?"

...I don't know a man who directly or indirectly won't aspire such a life. Well, that's the claim made in one of the recent Stephen Hunter's column in The Washington Post.

I am doing a typical Washington thing here, taking few quotes out of the article and I am just about to beat the hell out - as best as I can. Now to maintain full disclosure, the above quote is about from the review of the 3-D version of "The Lion King." Life is really good for the lion king. No doubt about that. But the writer does give a sexist spin to it -- making the remark that how pro-male and anti-women lion kingdom -- which he then insinuates -- applies to the enitre men species -- including human beings.

I agree. I won't deny it. I won't even argue because I dont have a different point of view. I really don't. All I want to say -- yes! the lion deserves it.

This is where I have some trouble with the article. Hunter does not talk about what the lion has to do to get there. In other words, this is a life that the lion creates for himself through years of blood and sweat. The blondes he gets don't have to deal with all this stuff. This applies to men too, not just "men lions" In some rare circumstances, men do get to live like the lion king.

So what does the lion go through? First, when a cub grows into adosclecence, he is driven out of the pride to fend for his ownself by the dominant male in the family. He then groups together with other males and forms a frat boys society. Teamwork and cooperation tides them through as they start mating and producing cubs. Then, the dominant male fights out and chases the rest away and forms his pride. Well, this is the short version, but we can easily get the gist. Not much different from the human life. And if that's so, for all the blood and sweat, and the fact at each of this step you could have got killed or destroyed, it is a reward that in some sense measure up.

Will someone reward the male lion in me with such a life. Just kidding! Else, will be disheartened.

Against solitude

Two distinct traits: Its one thing to find love and its another to keep that. And these two traits are so distinct in itself. It's almost like the difference between a "miner" of love and a "collector" of love. Imagine the difference between the coal mines of PA and the collectors of Upper West Side. Good miners are good in finding hot babes. Well, let's just say they pick up women in a heartbeat. Good collectors know to keep them for a long long time - till death do us apart.

And there are some like me. Not a finder, not a collector. God help them. What do they do? Where do they go? Here's what they do - when the others are screwing they write a mini-thesis about solitude.

I recently watched Bergman's TV series called "Scenes from a Marriage." Simply put - his best work to me. Timeless, orginal, and portrays real aspects of life that makes me feel - every minute was worth it. There is a discourse where the man talks about loneliness and that we are all lonely. We are alone in this world. That's the truth. Rest is illusion. We don't want to be lonely but we try to comfort ourselves that we have a family, a work place, a community, etc. - all to just foolishly comfort ourselves in this make-belief world.

Ultimately, the sooner we learn to live by myself - the better off I'll be. The protagonist - the man - keeps explaining to his divorced wife. The wife calmly listens and says - she does not agree with him. She calls him having a defeatist attitude, which she will not buy into. It's like learning to cope up with sea sickness before taking a ship rather than taking a plane because it may crash.

I was so much like the man in the Scenes from a marriage. Trying to comfort myself - by rationalizing my loneliness. Truth be told - it is absolutely vacuuous. Activating my creative and logical juices in my brain has never comforted my heart. But interstingly enough, it makes so much sense - at time. So much so - I was walking talking thinking that is the truth. It fitted my situation so well. The woman in the TV series - thankfully - was able to relegate this "truth" into an opinion worth rejecting.

There may be some truth to loneliness being the ultimate truth of life. But that does not help me. I hate to be alone. Someone dear leaves me and I miss that person. What's my ticket out of loneliness? Travelling, photography, writing? Elusive it may be, call it kiddish, but I need to explore, expand, and feel free. Goodbye my rationality crutch for now - until I need you again.

Ganguly

How many times sports personalities become icons as turnaround geniuses? As a kid, cricket was my religion - so much so my primal instincts told me that I was destined to be a cricketer. Taking a departure from Schopenhauer's "Man can do what he wills but he cannot will what he wills", I became something else. Well, that was on a lighter vein, but today something really hit me.

I am awed and inspired by our own Ganguly. We have heard stories about Wilma Rudolph, Jesse Owens, Jordan, and not to forget Jamaica's Bobsled team among many others who overcame adversities and became role models for life. Management pundits frequently draw examples of teamwork, passion, commitment, and focus from sports. So whether it is Joe Patterno's "good practice and not just practce makes one perfect" or the Ali adage of "I am the greatest", sports have filled us in pushing our own human limits of "higher, faster, and stronger".

Ganguly with his recent performance has redefined human endurance and the mental strength required to "swim against the current". This figure of speech may be hundreds of years old but in modern world it is no easy deal. With big money in cricket and media's lethal destroying power, "current" is a loaded word. And to put into the context, that he came from a super rich background, with loads of cash and from Calcutta where his prestige was still more or less intact - why did he have to come back? What is there inside him that told him - what triggered that? His will? Perhaps. But where is that will generated? Okay, let's stop right here because the answers may be as diverse as human imagination (Schopenhauer says will is not in his control anyway). But let's look at a smaller aspect. Let's presuppose that his will was there. We dont question where it came from. Let's look at that he delivered what his will wanted. Now - How many times do I even do that? I want to do this and that and yada yada yada. And then give up. Sometimes I do smal stuff and then feel I am a champion. For the big stuff, I give up and say that I changed my mind.

Ganguly's performance and this turnaround is exemplary. If I followed my will once and became a cricketer, I would have looked at his cricketing skills. But that does not preclude me from appreciating the gift he has has given now from his endurance, commitment, and proving his metal. Something more pervasive and far-reaching than his copy-book cover drive. And that is how to face life amidst adversity, being loyal and honest to one's dreams, and silence the naysayers with your work.

Why I avoided talking about secularism

Life encompasses not what I choose but also what I avoid. So long I have been skirting and consciously avoiding to write anything on this topic. For long, I have curbed my biggest weakness and that is my enthusiasm to avoid cynical subjects. I can sum up this whole issue in one sentance (will be generous enough to add an extra one) - why refute something that does not exist. Remember John Wood and his Book against God - where that fella wants to write a dissertation to prove God doesn't exist which his friend points out - how he can be against something that does not exist. The same thing applies here on a different context - secularism. In sum, I hate to spend ink on refuting it because I don't think it exist in any discussion. Maybe, except in academia, where everything under the sun is given an existence. And for a good reason. Yet, the current trends in recognition in literary circles does indicate something that cannot be ignored. In the past few years, we got Naipaul and Pamuk winning the Nobel; and another just waiting at the doorstep - Rushdie. All of them have been vocal about their views to the extent where their work and personalities have unified. Each of them is as much an activist as writers.

My personal wish is to keep exploring this area and see why academic circles are so enamored by this discussion and what theories they propound. Right now, it seems that there is quite a lot of intertwining and collapsing of multiple ideas that are at best correlated. Needless to say correlation is not to be consfused with cause and effect. For example, take Pamuk. His activist agenda infuriated his right wing leaning government folks earlier this year and was arrested. Now, he spends most of his time in Columbia lecturing about secular ideas. Embedded in the whole episode is the fact that he can do so in a country like US, which by many is not considered a secular nation. There is strong evangelical ethic that runs through the country. Now, changing tracks a little bit - why are these folks or the intellegentia consider secular ideas as a good thing? I don't know. Why get so hung up on it? Turkey for example, had its share of drinking the Marxist juice a generation back (after Ataturk era) and many (including Pamuk) may belong to that breed who think with the global demise of Marxist following - the secularism baby is getting trown out with overall Marxist bathwater. The end result - increase in fundamentalism. This pattern is quite pervsive including factions in India which has seen an upsurge in growth of fundamentalism through BJP and others.

This may be an interesting aspect to analyze, but let's revert to my earlier question why promoting secularism is so high on some people's list. My immediate response is why care? Ultimately, how a society moves towards greater recognition of private property rights determines its prosperity. The development of frameworks for law enforcement that recognizes such contracts is another component. The fact that men and women are partcipants in commerce and trade without any kinds of discrimination. The same applies to people across religions and faiths. And the way this is possible is through growth of markets and expansion of channels for distribution of wealth. Included also are incentives for production. It can be very easily correlated that America's condition in terms of freedom enjoyed by her citizens compared to other countries rests more on these factors than on secular ideas. It is only recently Merry Christmas is being coined as Happy Holidays which in daily life is more about political correctness than anything else. It's not quite the same way in other parts of the world. How may places in the world do you have a place like Columbia where you have a Bhagwati, a Spivak, a Jeff Sachs, a visiting Pamuk, a Glen Hubbard... That's what America is for you in a microcosm.

So let's wrap up for now. I believe the thrust on secularism is overrated. It does not give a whole lot argued this way or that - anyway. Reminds me of a Zen koan - where the dad tries to show his kid the moon by pointing his finger and the poor little kid keeps looking at the finger thinking that's what her dad wants to show. The moon remains elusive. Dad keeps trying but nothing works. Running after secularism is like keep looking at the finger and never being able to see the moon. The moon will be visible in promoting free enterprise, innovation, seeking opportunities to create wealth, and effective regulation that keeps negative externalities at bay. Until then, I don't mind enjoying either Pamuk, Naipaul, or Rushdie. They are no doubts some of the best minds of our generation. But will I be sweat what secularism is and what it is not. Probably not.