Its one of those days when I must express as much as I can; albeit for no obvious or visible reason. Call this a phase, but there are times when I get hassled when life is too easy. What sparks these thoughts can be as seemingly insignificant as an urchin trying to sell you something, a song that plays somewhere, or a casual remark people make. This blog’s title is from Pearl Jam's song 'Light Years'. I heard this piece on the way to work on a bland Monday morning. Something about the song made me want to read the lyrics before my day started. Sometimes, a song sparks something. We find inspiration in our run-of-the-mill day from what we hear with a guitar strum or, just the way the it’s sung. For that matter, anything sung by Eddie Vedder is intriguing. Now here’s the line that got me good-
We were but stones, your light made us stars.
It’s not a love song, and that made my day better already. It could be a tribute to a lost friend or teacher, or someone who just made you a better person. Where did that part of me go? I used to listen to so much music. Are musicians today sponsored by corporates provided they don’t sing against the establishment? Where are songs that question our existence? Is this the matrix we are living in, created by governments and corporations, designed to keep you brain-dead, cyclically spending your income in malls and advertised products? Being a marketing professional, I should be on the other side, defending the consumerist’s propaganda.
A fiery molten angst boiled from inside of me, crying out loud for losing out on precious time when more substantial things could have been done. Yes, this is the start of some serious reaction from a soul that killed itself. I had a dream of a spontaneous act- hiring a Royal Enfield motorcycle- the only brand I will mention in my message, because it refuses to alter from the image it created in a long gone past. It’s only message is ‘trip’. It survives in an age of better technology and marketing gimmicks. There was a time in my younger days when I swore I would own that thing the day I had that money. But I never did. That would have been a free me- in Ladakh or the hills somewhere or a village, eating with the people, discussing their lives, if not trying hard to solve anything, playing local street games, listening to children about their perception of the world. Instead, I am here, typing away to release this steam, amongst singing smart phones and other career minded machines working in silos. I am this short of standing up and screaming. But that will not create a solution, or even a mirage of what to do. There’s something that needs to be sorted out.
A city, country or community that has brilliant people running its corporations but is brain dead about its basic people issues is a post-apocalyptic ruin already, with zombies controlled by messages on the radio and billboards. That’s a death in the making.
I die every day. Today, my colleague and I discussed how to keep people from stealing our chairs. ‘I am going to paste a label with my name on it.’ So there. The other activity that we all indulge in- how to reserve the non-vegetarian meals in the cafeteria, that race we love running. The day is peppered with these vague acts, like rats in a sewer. Yes we do get some ‘work’ done. I like to think I put my creativity to some use, but with a constant question on why and where that will lead to. Why do we allow ourselves to live like this? It’s one thing if I am not capable of anything else. But when I am, then this is nothing short of sin to continue doing this.
Someone tells me that one way to avoid such self-inflicted torture is to break the mundane routine. Do something else, do different things with different people. But the basis of this angst does not go away.
I find inspiration from other people who are out there attempting difficult things. I admire them because they are out of their comfort zones. They are following a passion, being entrepreneurial, taking risks and ownership of what happens to their lives.
Consuming less is on the frontier. I aspire to create content and not just consume it. We have enough tech devices around us to consume content like surfing the internet, download apps, music and movies. But why do we not create? I vow to create more than I consume. Be it an angsty post and sketch like this one. I will write more to decipher and deconstruct this mould I live in, maybe extend it to do more. I want to inspire others as well. I want to consume less, even otherwise- be it food or resources. I rather be that skinny steam engine driver, with an eye on the landscape ahead, instead of the fat passenger waiting for his dessert in the luxury coach.
I feel my life is at its best when I travel, walk the streets of unknown places and talk to local people. I am on the verge of getting over owning stuff. That’s another thing about owning things. There’s so much one can do with owning gadgets, cars and real estate. These things mean nothing if one does not know what to do with these things. People who spend a lifetime trying to own stuff end of sad and depressed. Happier is the man who creates from his bare hands and shares the knowledge. A true creator will see sustainable happiness in what he creates, and will destroy anything that means nothing or offers nothing for the future.
‘Push an initiative every Monday’ is a graphic that sits on my desktop. Make the day meaningful. Do something for your colleagues or communities that need not work towards your performance evaluation. Give a part of your efforts away. It will become something, someday.
