Airport -Collage or College

A collage spread in front of the eyes. Colorful, bright, diverse, happy, weird, and so much more, but above all beautiful. That is how I see the airports. Whole life packed in one place with all its nuances. Almost as a miniature world contained within.  I have thought of capturing it with my camera, recording the sounds and the pictures of all what is happening but always refrained from doing the same as capturing will contain and limit what I feel when I am at an airport.

First thing you see is age, from the unborn children still in the safety of the womb under the swollen bellies of their mothers to wheel chaired grown-ups amassing the experience of almost a century, and then everyone in between.

Then you notice the work and leisure contrast between the suited men and women going for the ultra-important meeting. Their body language screaming of the urgency and importance of the travel. Their mannerism as crisp as the crease on their suits. On the other hand you see folks all set for vacation, laughing, planning, clicking pictures while making victory signs with fingers and grinning. Barely able to contain the excitement of the days ahead. Their bodies, their faces, their cloths all giving out their destination and vacation plan to whoever has time to watch keenly.

Next thing you find is the extremes of joy and sorrow. The sad, somber faces of those going to see an unwell friend or family member or to attend a funeral. Striking contrast with the happy and excited faces of those going to celebrate a new born or a wedding or a reunion with family or friends after years. All ends of life from birth to death, health to sickness, celebration to mourning visible in these groups.

And then you see the cultural diversities, fashion statements, food choices, those rushing to catch a plane and those idling to kill time waiting for a long delayed flight and a million more things.

All the diverse groups of people sharing the same space at the airport, waiting for the same aircraft to arrive, boarding the same planes. They may vary in their clothes, food habits, faith, skin color, age, health, financial status, liking, professions, travel needs and so much more. But they all stand unified while waiting for the flight to board. While complaining for the late arrivals. While worrying and pacing to avoid missing a flight. While following airline staff instructions. They join their fate when they sit in the same plane, each experiencing the same turbulence and same service. Every trip through an airport, teaches me how world should be. Unified in diversity. And that is what the "Human Being" is about. Isn't it?

Random Perfection

A perfect day as I may suggest is full of differences. Many related and unrelated items all complimenting each other randomly yet there is perfection in that randomness.

Close your eyes and feel my definition of a perfect day.

It is spring, the winter has decided to go to rest and summer is yet getting ready for its time. The day is sunny with some wandering clouds. The sun is lazily shining; neither hot not cold, just warm. Perfect warmth to gently rub the skin with a comforting warm feeling. However there is breeze flowing, not the frigid air of the winter, but pleasant breeze of spring, gently massaging the sun warmed skin with a mild comforting cool. The sun is moving; on a determined path; in the sky but the clouds are floating almost aimlessly. At times as if playing hide and seek or tag with the Sun, and none of the two ever knows, what game they are playing. Who is hiding and who is the seeker. However both enjoying the game none the less.

Perfect harmony with nothing being absolute, with nothing being perfect, just mutually opposing forces, in a mutually respecting harmony, with almost no boundaries. Freedom to express, freedom to Be and freedom to follow own path without having to block others.

The seasons, the weather, the Sun, the clouds, the air all respecting each other’s presence and all complementing each other. And all celebrating each other’s virtues. A perfect day!

Open the eyes once you have felt this, and think; Can the world has similar random perfection? If not for us, at least for the next generation? A thought that I find worth contemplating.

A day- So Special

Calendar; same as watch; keeps on moving. Sending a new date every day. The cycle of 365 (or occasional 366) is repeated over and over in one’s life. Most dates are repeated without mention, however some of those dates put a mark on you, and stay with you for your life.

One such date just passed the calendar few days ago for me.

The date that meant nothing till 10 years ago, but all of a sudden, it started meaning the world. 10 years ago 3^rd of September, I the father was born.  I would not have said this in the way I did, if my 10 years old had not wished me happy birthday on his birthday. Confusing? Of course; but smart. He said Happy Birthday Papa, and when I gave a smile shaped as a question mark he laughed and said; “you were not a papa till I was born, so “Happy birthday papa”

Happy birthday Son, truly, I always thought that my wife and I were the parents and you were our child, but that moment I realized, we were not parents till you made us that. Confusing again? Of course, remember I am his dad, so same DNA and hence similar acts.

Proud, happy, worried, concerned, confident yet needing reassurance, strong still praying, letting go to give independence but still holding on to avoid dangers and so many more mutually conflicting and confusing emotions that pile up, get entwined in the mind in the name of parenthood.

Gifts, vacation, excellent dinner, good wishes, advice and a lot more was in my agenda to facilitate the day for him, but none of that seemed sufficient. He is a part of me. At times he is the mirror that I see myself in, with proud mostly and at rare times with mild humiliation. So all I pray is that he does way better than me in all what I did good. He doesn’t ever have to face any of the embarrassments that I had faced. He stays stronger in any difficulties than how I have been. And he continues to earn the love and respect always.

My dear son, thanks for making me a proud father. I hope I am a good one, I will never succeed as a father if you don’t succeed as a person so we are in this together; always, we are team. I said this as my birthday wish to him.

 

“Am I in team with you or with Mom?” was the question I heard after I have said the above words. No it was not my 10 year old birthday boy, it was my little son, the 6 year old baby of the house.

I and my older son we both laughed, and the little one laughed with us. Yes you are with us in the same team and so is your mom, hope we make a good team son”

We will papa, both said in chorus.

Their confidence in saying that tells me my prayers are being heard. 

Zeal - The answer

I don't see the aggression in this team. Aggression is what we need to win. He went on with that speech. But the 2 first sentences had turned me off. I didn't even hear what he was saying. Next day I asked my parents to not enroll me for next season. And that was end of my game as a cricketer.

I was not bad at the game and could have played to help my team win, improved my skill and delivered what it takes to win. But I stopped as coach has asked for aggression and aggression was not my thing. I was committed but not aggressive. I feel I still miss the game. Who knows the game and my team might have missed me too. I was a good off spinner, there was no other in the team. I was below average with bat but was committed to improve. Improvement was slow and I didn't know why. But my coach explained "you need aggression to win" 

I was startled with that revelation, I didn’t have what it takes to win. I can be angry at times (even very angry). I am committed mostly to the cause I pick. I work hard but I cannot be aggressive.

Those words were etched in mind. You need aggression to win. Lack of aggression was considered same as lack of commitment. 

I could have been miserable for ever till I came across my dictionary, much later in life while I was preparing a presentation at work. Still the rhetoric of aggression needed for victory was very much in-vogue. I stumbled over the word ZEAL. And I knew I had my answer. My Nirvana. Be committed, be Zealous. Zeal and not aggression was needed to win.

Aggression makes mobs and Zeal makes teams (I told myself)

So my coach had a semantic problem. I was happy that all was not lost. I had in me what it takes to win. I had the zeal needed for the right cause, I would never have enough aggression but zeal would work for me as well.

But then I look around me, friends, family, coworkers, even little kids; everyone had learnt it from a similar coach. You need aggression to win. No aggression means no commitment which means no victory. I am not sure if I should just ignore my new found knowledge or just ignore it and live rest of my days trying (and failing) to achieve aggression and not focus on being zealous, which come more naturally?

While in the middle of my dilemma, I had this phone call with a nice kind lady many hours east of me. It was very early for me in the day and a little past mid-day for her. After the pleasantries were exchanged; and the cause at hand discussed; I had to either persuade her to my point of view or to get convinced by hers (or may be develop a 3^rd point of view collaborating between the two). Perfect team work scenario; but then the need to be Aggressive to Win took over her completely. She must have had a mentor like my coach. I felt attacked by a voice becoming shriller and tone switching between sarcastic and angry. I let my mind shut-off, as counter aggression by aggression is an option that I rarely used and never felt proud of using it (even when I have won). I excused myself with the pretext of gathering more data for her to consider. But instead built a case (documented with facts and different viewpoints). Eventually discovering that we both were right in parts, but wholly supporting one’s view point would have meant disaster. I prepared a solution and presented to the client. The cause won. I won with it, and so did she. The aggression however lost and the zeal to solve did win.

Lesson learnt-We both could have won if we had focused on solving the problem instead of winning. Aggression makes you always secure a win for yourself, strike a goal; but zeal will make you solve the problem at hand. Zeal states that you don’t win till you have solved the issue at hand.

Ask yourself (I asked myself and discovered some despicable moments) How many times you’ve been aggressive in the conversations, the discussions, the plans where zeal could have done trick in much better way without having to have any tensed muscles.

Next Steps change the vocabulary and more

ü                          Aggression to be replaced with Zeal

ü                        Aggressive should go and Zealous should be in

ü                       Compete is outdated Collaborate is the way to go

ü                      Don’t try to win or lose, work for the cause to win and you win automatically

ü                       Aggression can be infectious stand your Zeal and the cause instead of getting    infected

ü                     Listen to gather important points from other side rather than responding even when the discussion becomes an argument

ü                    Do it with Zeal

Live, play, work, socialize, party what ever you do; do it with Zeal, you will be one step closer to the ultimate.

मसरूफियत का आलम

I once wrote a note about priorities (http://nuancesofbeing.blogspot.com/2012/07/what-if-you-find-out-that-your.html ), but talking about something and following the same thing are very different. Years after I wrote that note, I have not seen much change in the way of thinking or doing. Being busy (or masroof -मसरूफ ) is what mostly I do.Many times keeping the health (Physical, spiritual and social health) as a priority #2. Self is ignored everyday for the sake of being busy, so below lines represents the dilemma, when one encounters one self some day?

मसरूफियत का आलम

खुद की ग़र कभी खुद से 

मुलाकात होगी 

सोचता हूँ कुछ इस तरह 

से बात होगी 

खुद को क्यूँ भुलाए रखा 

यह खुद से बताएँगे 

खुद की मसरूफियत के किस्से 

खुद को ही सुनाएंगे 

खुद के बहानों के खोखलेपन को 

खुद से ही महसूस कर 

खुद पे ही शर्मिंदा होंगे 

खुद की शर्मिन्दगी पर खुद ही 

मन में मुस्काएँगे 

खुद को इस कदर भुलाया 

है कब से, कि 

कभी खुद से रूबरू हो गए तो 

खुद को पहचानेंगे कैसे?

और खुद ने ग़र पहचान लिया तो,

नज़रें कैसे मिला पाएँगे?

4 Friends in a Jungle –Story Retold

Four friends are in a jungle. One checks if his shoes are tied well. Others ask, why was he doing that? The first one responds that if a tiger comes to hunt, he wants to be sure that he can run fast enough.

Do you think you can out run the tiger?

Who has to out run the tiger? I have to just out run one of you, he replies with a smile.

The story doesn’t end here…….

Move this scenario to competitive business space, 4 friends (organizations), all trying to outrun each other when “the tiger” (customer’s needs) is chasing them. The 1^st three will survive being just ahead of the other, but for the one who couldn’t stay ahead of the friends must “outrun the tiger”, or gets annihilated.  

The story doesn’t end here as well…………….

The tiger in our story has an appetite that is insatiable so after the last one of the 4 friends is devoured by the tiger, the race to outrun doesn’t end or even slows down, it is just the race to be better than the 3^rd position (as 3^rd is the new last). Usually there are more “friends” joining on the way. The tiger stays on the prowl.

The story still is not over………….

Few who actually outrun the Tiger, gain the Nirvana of the business. They stay good, respected by the Tiger. Until the new tiger (read next generation of consumer expectations) arrives in the Jungle.

And the story starts itself all over again…….'

Note: Resurrection allowed, if one is committed enough

The WORLD we see

“You know Sara has 5 toes in each foot, isn’t that amazing!”

This was the little angel all of 5 years old but he played as a big teacher, if anyone was interested in the learning.

I was sitting on the couch with my wife listening to some challenges, mostly some people not playing a healthy game.

It seems that either they do not understand, or do not care or may be just want to create trouble. My wife mentioned and I was nodding my head in affirmation. I had a few of those who fall in that category and it is always very difficult to deal with that kind, if losing temper is not one of the viable options.

I looked at her face, she was obviously upset and I wanted to say something that helps her but at the same time doesn’t sound too preachy. May be it is the perspective they carry, was all I could say. Obviously I myself was not convinced at that and surely she too couldn't really agree.

And then the little teacher walked in without a prior announcement, all excited and happy when he said “You know Sara has 5 toes in each foot, isn’t that amazing!”. As if he had not seen 5 toes on Sara but seen a baby dinosaur in the backyard.

I looked at my wife and we both smile.

The little angel is blessed with 6 toes on each foot. So his reality stood at having 6 toes as the standard. Perspective explained in a fraction of a moment by the little teacher. I hugged him, kissed his cheek, and offered; “do you want to count mine?” I was sure he will be amazed to see that even I have 5 on each, just like Sara; wasn’t that amazing?

World is not as is, World is as One see with One's own eyes. 

Note: We can accomplish a lot at work, home, society if we keep an open mind to respect (if not understand) the World others may see