Mediocrity - underrated?

The other day a friend of mine asked me - "When does a man know that the most he achieves in life will be mediocrity? Late 40s? Late 50s?" I thought that was a very thought provoking question. He asked it with a very muted tone sounding as if mediocrity was a sign that someone has failed in life.

I like to think otherwise. Excluding the lazy bunch who waste their talents and find pleasure in couch camping, I would say the majority of us are termed "mediocre". But is that bad? Isn't mediocrity way underrated? Yes, life is indeed a race - and considering the starting point, we have come far. Now, if the finishing point is not out of the ordinary, that does not mean we have not run a good race. All of us are born with tools to mould life. Some of us with power tools and others with just a chisel and hammer. I say we do best with the tools we have and what we build out of it is ours to own. There is only room for so many greats in this world. Besides, we are never mediocre for people who care about us. Striving for greatness is perfectly fine, but make sure that achieving greatness is not the only way you will ever be satisfied in life.

Now you may be thinking - "You will never make money as a motivational speaker". I agree. Thankfully, I did not choose that profession in life and the world is a better place to be in precisely due to that decision of mine. However, I am mediocre in most of the stuff I do, but I do give it my best shot.

Be great at achieving greatness, but if mediocrity is what you get, never let the label take away the fun of  appreciating how far in life you have travelled to reach it.

Until next time - when I meet with you at the crossroads of another mediocre article on this mediocre blog.

image courtesy: http://www.justynsmith.com/2011/03/the-mediocre-kidmin-leader-part-2/

Life, Interrupted.

"Yeah, its all over now", my brother said with a deep sigh. "He looked just as handsome as he did before all of this happened". My heart felt heavier and my eyes teared up as I looked out the window hoping to find deeper answers to life's more complex questions.
***********
Around nine months ago, I was woken up by a phone call very early in the morning. It was the weekend, so I let it ring and continued my slumber until I got my lazy butt out of bed. It was after doing my morning chores that I decided to check who had called - it was my wife's cousin. The voice mail he left threw me right out of my comfort zone. He had been having headaches, so the doctor suggested an MRI and they had discovered a tumor in his brain. I felt like slapping myself for not taking his call and letting it go to voice mail. I desperately tried to call him back, but did not get any answer. It was later on that I knew he had been hospitalized and they had started further investigations into his condition.

Fast forward a couple of weeks - I traveled to Chicago to be by his side and also receive his parents who were on their way from India. It was 3 days packed with emotions - of him, his sister and his parents. There was a mix of anxiety, despair and hope for a better future - Medical science has made so many advances - we can clone entire organs, so a tumor in the brain could not be much of a puzzle for the brightest of doctors right?

Except, it was. They ruled out surgery as it was too complex and started chemo, radiation and rehabilitation. I painfully watched as his dad helped him regain his strength to walk, assist him to the bathroom and help him with other things otherwise considered mundane in daily life. For his dad, it was as if life had progressed in reverse, when his son was a little boy, and he was holding his hands to help him get his balance.

As time passed he fought back with his strong will power and zest for living, but then all of that suffered huge blows as hope dwindled and more doctors said that there was nothing more they could do. He never complained about how life was unfair and that he was given the short end of a stick. The bounce in his talk was still there, though occasionally he would delve into long streaks of silence. He joked about the hair he had lost because of the chemo and of the weight he had put on because of all the steroids.

After putting up a brave fight, the third week of March was destined to be his last on this planet. The last few days were particularly tough - for him and everyone close to him and then he decided he had enough. The tumor eventually outgrew his willpower and took over control. I guess some dark clouds do not have a silver lining after all.
******
After that phone call from my brother after his funeral, I called and spoke to his dad the next day. It hurt deeply, and though the chatty person that I am, I was at a loss for words in all languages I knew. I told him what I felt - all he could do was to look after himself and hos wife as his son would have done and that live life as happily as he would have wanted you to. In a way, the best homage to a bright young lad.

The loss of a child is more scarring in many ways compared to the loss of parents or close relatives. It hurts you until your last breath. Many a lesson can be learned from all of this - the most important one being - never  lose the joy of living life amidst complaints about all the nitty grtty details.

Jiby was 24 at the time of his funeral. He was just beginning to enjoy life in its prime - precisely why he fought so hard against what eventually took his life at a young age. May his soul rest his peace and may his memories light up moments of people he touched.

Sleep well my friend, for you shall be forever young.

Picture courtesy - http://usagamezone.blogspot.com

The Robots have taken over!

A belated Happy New year to all. To those of you who are still hanging on to their New Year resolutions, good job and kudos for being persistent. For the rest of us, there is always going to be another New Year!

The New Year has brought in a lot of comments on my blog post and in case you are wondering why its not showing up after the posts, it is because they are all written by spam robots. I am happy that machines appreciate my thoughts and have a weird sense of humor, but its not the kind of messages I would like in my inbox. With the likes of Facebook and Twitter, you can never be too alone, even if you wanted to.

So hello again to all the readers who are still subscribed to my feed and let me tell you that it was never my intention to abandon this space or your curiosity in knowing my brain content. Everything you see in the blog title was still going on, I just could not muster up enough time and resources to publish it. When I reviewed this space last week, it gave me the feeling of going to school when it is closed - you see the classrooms and are reminded of all the heated discussions, fun and activity that once was - and you crave for having it back.

So here is my first step in satisfying that craving. When you have some time to spare, drop in a line, scribble 'hi' and I shall be obliged and happy.

And to the robots reading this - No, I am not interested in getting medicines from Canada.Nor am I interested in seeing you naked on your webcam. Most certainly, I am not interested in enlarging the size of my privates.So quit stalking me.

image courtesy - http://truescifi.wordpress.com/2009/01/23/robot-police/

Really Geico? So That is your definition of a Caveman?

Well, you all know the Spiel. Geico airs the ad showing that getting auto insurance from Geico is so easy that even a caveman can do it. It is such a hit, their next series of ads show cavemen getting all offended about how they are portrayed on TV.

Funny. Cute. Intelligent.And Geico gains a lot of customers.

 But not me, Geico, not me. I knowingly refuse to submit to your innovative and humorous ads. Want to know why? Well, it is simple really - look at your depiction of a caveman and then travel around the world. It's that easy.

Still not getting it? Ok, let me explain. What is your definition of a caveman? An ordinary bloke, probably with a decent job and a happy life, living in the modern world with just a minor, off putting  detail. And what is it that makes him a caveman? Hair, and lots of it. Let me tell you something - there are parts of the world where there are men who do have lots of hair - not just on the head, on their bodies and face. Mostly they are of Arabic or South Asian descent. I happen to be the in latter category.

When I grew up, chest hair used to be the sign of a real man. As a teenager, I watched each hair follicle grow into a sign of manhood like a gardener watching his garden flourish. I couldn't wait until I could flaunt it all and woo all the beautiful girls waiting to get a glimpse of it. That is, until "Nair for Men" and  "Six pack Abs" became the new normal. So as things would turn out, I missed the train by a couple of years  and that slight shift in trend morphed my fountain of youth into a malfunctioning shower head. Thanks, fashion trends, and good riddance.

So now I am in my late thirties, wearing turtle necks in the sweltering summer (that's right - its like the border fence trying to block all the illegal aliens - in this case, the body hair trying to catch a glimpse of sunlight)  and out you come with this ad to remind me that I am not evolved much from the ape and that I am as close to a caveman that you can get.

No GEICO, I will not sell my dignity even if that means I get 15% or more off of my car insurance by spending 15 minutes.NO WAY.

For 20%, I am willing to talk.

Picture Courtesy: http://pinstripebindi.wordpress.com

It's all Relative!

"All this began after we moved into this god forsaken house", he shouted as he slammed the door behind him. "So now you are blaming our son's illness on the house too?" She responded with the highest pitch she could manage though she knew he wouldn't hear it.

As she sat down next to her bedridden son, she broke down to tears, covering her face and hushing her voice so her son would not wake up. She was always the ambitious one in the family - dreaming higher, getting the man of her dreams, then pursuing him to buy the house of her dreams and finally pursuing a career of her dreams. Then as fate would have it, things broke down soon after her son fell terminally ill. She started to question all her decisions in life and asking herself - "What is the point in all of this? Why am I so overworked to get to my reserved place in society?" As she pondered over life's bigger questions, she gazed out the window and saw a woman with two kids outside the gate looking at her house.

"Mom, I want a house like that. Then  Kayla and I could have birthday parties and we could play in the backyard and also have our friends over!". "I wish I had a house like that", said Kayla.  "Well, I wish we had a house like that too kids, but with your dad being laid off and mom not being able to get a promotion, we will have to be satisfied with the apartment we have. Well, I guess we will never be lucky as the people who live in this house. OK, let's go to the park." "Yay", the kids said in unison and ran across the street to get to the park.

PERSPECTIVE MATTERS. Have you put your problems into perspective lately?


Image courtesy : http://www.hypebeast.com

Inspiration is a chain reaction

It is a universally known fact that money is always tight for a college student. (Well, at least for the majority of us). During my college days, things were no different. For the purposes of full disclosure, I have to add that my mom did send me money, but when you add the Total Cost of Living (including costs of booze, other guilty pleasures etc.), the liabilities easily outweigh assets.

It was at one of those dinners with a shoe string budget that I bore witness to a random act which would have a profound impact later in my life (though I did not realize it at the time).  It was a warm night in Chennai (Madras at the time) and I was heading for dinner towards a street stand close to where we lived. During the short walk, I was carefully calculating the amount of food I could have for the meager amount of money I was carrying with me (And all of you wonder how Asians end up better at Math!). By the time I reached there, I had a pretty good idea of what and how much I will be ordering. While I was munching down my share of street delicacies, I saw a man (who had more than his share of alcohol) walking up to the person next to me. The person next to me definitely looked like he had a job (since he had a motorcycle and was dressed decently) and was sitting on his motorcycle and slowly chowing down his dinner. The drunk then asked him  - "Can I have some money so I can eat something? I am starved!". The other man seemed to be repulsed by the smell and demeanor and quickly moved backwards, then shook his head, gesturing a firm 'No'. The street vendor shouted - "Get the hell out; don't disturb my customers!". The drunk clearly knew a "No" when he saw it as he walked away slowly and sat down on the pavement a couple of meters away from me.His head hung low, either from shame or more likely, from the effects the alcohol had on his brain.

Like a wave washing away scriptures on sand, I could see that the man on the motorcycle being overpowered by a wave of sympathy and regret washing away his earlier feelings of repulsion. He turned to the drunk and said - "Ok, come and get whatever you want to eat; I will take care of the bill!". He must have known that I was watching all of this, so he quickly turned to me and said, "I know if I give him money he will spend it on booze, this way he will at least eat to ward off his hangover."

The gesture had an impact on me enough that I stopped eating and nodded my head in agreement. I also managed a smile in between all the other thoughts that were in my head. But later on in life, this inspired me to make giving a part of my life and whenever I did that I also made sure that it went to the source rather than an agency or upfront admin - of course, it means more work, but also much more rewarding.

So the next time you get a chance, indulge in a random act of kindness. You never know who you might inspire and how much of a chain reaction that triggers.

Image courtesy : www.clamlynch.com/blog/2005/06/

Waking up.

My head is heavy, eyes red and my vision - a little hazy. Such are the after effects of deep slumber. Sorry for the absence from this space. It was not intentional and and I was not wasting time - I got diverted into other projects and also spent more time with what makes me tick. All I am is a clockface - my kids and better half are the 3 hands on it that keep me ticking.

Meanwhile, thanks for all the queries asking if I was doing OK and when would this hibernation end? When people look at this space and do not find anything new, I do believe that I have done a disservice to them. Time is scarce for me, so why would it be different for other folks searching random blogs in the interwebs?

Right now, my mind is like a cluttered desk - random notes scattered everywhere and completely unorganized. I need to clean it up, get a pen and sit my big, lazy ass down to write. All while keeping in mind that I am but, a mere blogger with minimal impact on the world. But write I should, for the biggest impact it makes, is on me.

Now if you will excuse me while I go wash my face.