Objects in mirror are closer than they appear

Wish fortune can be seen in the mirror.

But for those who honk behind you, it doesn’t matter how close, or far, they are from you. We see drivers – yeah, even those – owners, actually – of high-end cars honking immediately on the traffic light turning green. Or just to ensure no one comes before them. Or goes past them. It becomes clear then that civility is more important than education. Or civility is not emphasised during schooling. Or even at home, for that matter.

 

Do they always see objects from a mirror? The green traffic signal light, perhaps? Or just a common road-user passing by? Or a competitor, probably. Think of checking a clock seen through a mirror? Runs faster, or the seconds tick normally?

 

Remember visiting as a child those fairs with a tent housing “funny mirrors”? Mirrors of different shapes and sizes, showing yourself in different shapes and sizes. When you laughed at yourself, you never thought the mirrors were throwing back at you distorted images of your own self.

 

Not all mirrors are convex to show images closer than they actually are. And you do not wish objects behind you to be closer to you while driving!

 

Do not depend on the mirror. Or what you see in it. One, objects behind you appear closer. And, they may be distorted. And, certainly, what you see is just the inverse image. A mirror-image, as they call it.

 

And what about fortune? Seek fortune straight up. Strive.

 

And what about that in the mirror?

 

Wish the mirror image of fortune is not misfortune.

 

All the unknown is dark matter

Isn’t it good to not know the unknown? It is always said that ignorance is bliss. Isn’t that right, too? When you know of an incidence, which isn’t palatable, it’s best ignored. Best forgotten. As if it hasn’t occurred at all.

Experience the pain of remembering and thinking about incidents that hurt? More so when it’s told what was seen or what happened was indeed not as it showed or seemed? More so when one’s own, who was part of the act, denies what actually happened, and shows oneself as innocent? Not guilty? Actually, it may be true . . . As one is disowned by own, largely because of intoxication of two kinds. One from what was gulped. The other was by being consumed by the company. Just feel not belonging there. Or not being the type.

Change the thought. Actually, whoever did something similar didn’t deserve to be owned. Feel them cheap. Learn to ignore. Experienced bliss. Be happier.

It's like dark matter - its existence is known, but not its form.

Know its existence. Don’t give a damn for its form.

Cast Cast A Shade

After a tiring three-day session over the weekend, I saw this picture on a billboard on way back home. It was for an ad for Lloyd air conditioner. The thought of an AC cooled me down, alright, but the vibrance that Deepika emitted was cooler. It may be the coolest sight I’ve had for a few days then. The sparkling smile, which very few have, and the spark in the eyes tell a different story. More than the endorsement for the air conditioner.

(PC: Google)

Co-incidentally, I stumbled upon this picture while browsing for songs on music sites. And, suddenly, some dots started connecting themselves, the emergent form was unnoticed hitherto. And this was even cooler. It would be wrong to say the damsels were hot! No, they were cool. In these pictures.

(PC: Google)

I might have seen this picture from the Hindi movie Silsila (1981), innumerable times at its time. It just looked ordinary then, despite Yash Chopra pulling off a coup of sorts with the cast. The ensemble cast an interesting shade to the plot. A classic example of love that cannot be captured in a can of film reels.

The two pictures say that one need not enact love while with the loved one. It just shows. Deepika’s smile has a million fans, but this is just natural. Even men love Amitabh, but none can embrace him like Rekha did in this one.

The language that is not auditory is the body language. It can be only seen. And it shows numerous stories. And it doesn’t lie. The stories don’t lie. It’s the science having both chemistry and biology.

Pappu . . . Naam toh sunaa hoga . . .

It’s that time, again. And all those seeking the electorate’s blessing seem like honourable panhandlers. Honourable only when ideating begging, that is. They’re seldom honourable, actually.

And even the best and much presentable seem like Pappus. Or prefer to be presented so, perhaps. Only until such time that their fate is sealed, after which, after all, the electorate returns to the role of that. Pappu, that is.

There cannot be a formula making everyone seem alert and knowledgeable. There has to be a few fools, anyway, in the electorate. And there may be a race to even prove that.

With so many first-timers, young and educated, tech-savvy and, thus, well-informed, they are the ones that are targeted and focussed upon much. And most of them are non-prejudiced, and hence, feed only on facts and data. And facts and data are available with all of them. The rulers and the ruled. How they are presented is going to be the decider. And the whole game comes with lots of twists and turns, of course. Until the time the dispensation takes charge.

All the so-called experts gabble with another set of data. No facts, but, this time. Here. Because we all know. And data needn’t be correct or complete, thus, clear picture needn’t evolve. Thus, it’s going to be an edge-of-the-seat thriller. Afterall, it’s all about the seat. The top seat of the nation.

Let’s go vote. As the election commission is projecting it as the great festival. Let’s go celebrate.

The Pulsant Life

I had seen Don Sutherland in The Italian Job, and can vividly remember his character, despite his short presence, and, amidst Mark Wahlberg, and more importantly, Charlize Theron. But, in The Leisure Seeker, with Helen Mirren, he was in a different league, and wouldn’t have budged with any number of Charlizes. Well, I don’t remember seeing Helen in any movies hitherto, though she deserved the Golden Globe nomination for this one.

(Picture courtesy: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3741632/mediaviewer/rm3009305856.)

The bonding of siblings Lillian and Jane, specially just before the credits roll, is adorable, too.

And I learnt love can happen in the West, indeed. Bollywood churns out Baghban moments every third movie, that we hardly see or experience in real life. Despite stories of uncommitted love amongst or between folks, TLS gives an insight into the reality there; in contrast to the fake news that is shown in Bollywood’s Baghbans.

I also learnt love actually grows when you age. Or both of you age. Or the three of you, sometimes. Only, the third is hard to understand as having been away for over three decades as someone else’s, who had adored the imagination as an innocent interest of love of a young teen. And that interest now appears to be of the purest form. There hasn’t been an interest like that ever since. That was over three decades ago. Childhood heartthrob keeps life pulsant, after all. The love as you age is something similar.

Love now-a-days happens for no reason. And relationships develop for reasons not love. It often appears to be absent at all between two souls, but just an arrangement. An understanding. A contract. No pain. No one is hurt, either. A passer-by situation. Strangers in some ways, indeed. Or in many ways, rather. Infatuation in some situations. Most often, it is love for how you are, but not for what you are. You get impressed easily, and get annoyed more so.

Specially with the vices of the world, more so societal, or fads, to boot, you wouldn’t know what you are upto. At the end, you wouldn’t even know what you went through, and so no guilt. And carry on with the next, something new. As young people, we were fed stories of the West something similar. Materialistic. And, then TLS changed the idea. But Baghban moments aren’t coming either.

It is more The Pleasure Seeker now. There is no unconditional love anymore. Rather, there is no love at all, anymore. It is just a pastime. Impressed by the accent, rather than the language itself. Or the meaning of it.

Just felt nice for old times. Three decades since.

Trust isn’t won hands down

Just the other day I happened to see a little girl waiting to be picked by her dad to seat her on his bike’s fuel tank – just in front of him. She had her arms raised signaling she was ready for the ride, while he was strapping his helmet. It was a sight to behold, as, little hands all of goodies to take home, her tender and innocent eyes scanned the surroundings, more particularly the store she just walked out from. Was she also wondering if she got the best deal? Or were there anything else better that she could have impressed her dad upon for? The moment showed her trust in him, as she couldn’t do it on her own – for her age and size – hop on to the seat that was the fuel tank, a little warm then, perhaps, what with a similarly tender winter Sun having readied the place for the princess. She had had her dad to do that.

Of diverse cases, today, most tasks – be it even a sport of solitary player like tennis or golf – need props – be it in any form – the player is aided by his support team or an individual, like a coach or a caddie, for that matter. Even at a practice session, he has to have somebody to play with, to prepare to play alone against an opponent. Even while solving a crossword puzzle, the player has to trust the puzzle is correctly composed, lest it will end up as a game of scrabble!

Even in a team sport or in an army, when the skipper delegates work, in the group the expert of a particular task may put his hands up to be counted. Converse to the first episode, trust flowing in either direction – to and from the sought.

Similarly, in an election an individual or party may have an upper hand due to varied factors, which may lead that one to victory. And the victor deserves to raise arms clenching fists, as the finish line is crossed by the push of the electorate’s trust.

To preempt any counterattack, a cop also asks a thug to put his hands up. Trust flows in both directions here, too – the cop hopes the thug does put his hands up, and the thug trusts his raised arms would save him from being shot.

The students in a classroom also put their hands up to signal willingness or wish to answer a question, or that they have a query. A feel-good factor arises – the student will be elated if his answer is correct or if his query is adequately responded to – why – even an opportunity to be heard elates one; and the teacher to know his training is well received . . . Or at least, the pupils are willing to share their understanding with him!

Waving a raised arm on seeing a known person, trusting to be seen and identified or recognised. Or for a taxi . . . Trusting it would stop seeing the raised arm . . .

Trust resonates while high-fiving . . . Nothing can match the spirit . . . The joy of being part of the team. Togetherness. Camaraderie . . .

And, the worst may be the exercise the Orthopedist suggests for spondylitis! Trust the doc . . . It helps, actually!

Trust signifies a bond between two individuals or entities that is expressed in varied ways, flowing either way. But, it costs a bit. At least an effort to raise one’s hand. Just one, if not both.

It cannot be won hands down.

And, the most important of it all . . . Trusting oneself . . . It is called confidence.

Demonisation of Demonetisation

Tuesday 08 November 2016 saw two major events unfolding, specially in this part of the globe – as, through the day, the country was waiting to know who we have to deal with in the US come January next, Indian PM Modi “unleashed a demon” on the nation – demonetisation of two large currencies – of denomination of Rupees 500 and 1000 with immediate effect. This came late that evening, leaving none a fair chance to have whatever of either of those bills they might have had to be changed to valid bills! Other than that the best they could do was to escape by government transport – buses or rail, get treated in government hospitals for the shock, tank up in government-owned fuel stations, pay penalties to the cops or courts, and such similar payouts – the last being to pay taxes! That is, if they had money in those denominations – Rupees 500 and/or 1000.

For a common man, with little money, or with some huge earnings yet all accounted for, the move seemed a wrap on the knuckles of those who just flaunt money but don’t account for! The immediate effect had all of them worry about the ensuing moments – for different reasons, though! The former had to scramble for valid bills for expenses, if they had not had any or many; the latter to find ways to change the colour of their money – from black to pink or the new green or blue! That’s the colour of the new bills that is out and soon-to-be released bills of the old denomination of Rupees 500.

It cannot be any whiter than their paled lives!

Only, Trump paled into the background.

And most took a bow for what Modi did before flying to Tokyo.

The stiff-necked ones had myriad reasons to blame. Some just for the heck of it – P Chidambaram, former Finance Minister, who had to call the move a farce to appease his higher-ups, for example. Some to hide their shock at the incredibly intelligent move, which they couldn’t openly acknowledge – Rahul Gandhi, for one, who joined the crowd thronging the ATMs and banks to change their bills.

And there was the inimitable Arvind Kejriwal who shouted from the rooftop about his discovery – that Modi’s party colleagues had already changed bills just before the “official” announcement!

Largely, the move has affected numerous cross-sections of the country – the common man, the rich ones hiding wealth, the ones that manage all of their money – accounted or otherwise, the bankers, the agencies replenishing ATMs and those guarding them, their families. And that of yours faithfully, too.

The seemingly monstrous logistical exercise passed, too – what with it is four days past now. While the social media and the jokes it carried about the move and its affects had most of the country in splits, a few cross-sections went overboard, too! It seemed funny that suddenly everyone became an expert economist!

The hurry to understand the information published via different media had an adverse effect – it was largely misunderstood or partly understood. There was enough time for all the exercise to be executed, but none had time to wait. And there were stories abound of good Samaritans – and bad, too! – that found a worthy place amidst all the hubbub.

Any guesses who had the last laugh after all the brouhaha?