One small step for Jobs; One giant slip for Apple

There are very few people breathing out there whom I genuinely admire. Steve Jobs is definitely one of them. Not because he has more moolah than the U.S. Treasury itself. Or because he founded and guided the most valuable company on the planet. I look up to him because of the failures and daunting obstacles he faced and yet managed to ratchet through them. Needless to disclaim, he is not a perfect human being. No one is. But whenever I think of Apple, I see a thinner-than-before monkish guy in turtlenecks and jeans with a childlike enthusiasm to showcase the best of technology. And boy he does it so well!

Few years back, I read he used to walk 7 miles every Sunday night to ISKCON temple during his humble days to have a free-of-cost proper meal. I found the Indian tangent there intriguing but that’s not the point. The detail to gawk on here is his truly modest background. His father was a Syrian Muslim so basically he’s a Syrian-American though his mother was a white American. Since they were unmarried at the time of his birth, both kind of disowned him and put him up for adoption. His biological parents then had a daughter who is a famous novelist now. The surname Jobs comes from his foster parents. 

For any adopted child, the sense of rejection is always lingering in the back of their mind. I wonder how it must be for a person to grow up and then later learn who their actual parents are. And such corny stuff! As far as I know, he hasn’t reconciled with his biological parents/family yet. Maybe that’s how it will be for the rest of his life. 

Now, talking of Apple, funny things happened here, too. He hired a new CEO named Sculley who used to work for Pepsi-Cola in ’83 and as luck (bad luck, actually) would have it, Jobs had to leave the very company he built in ‘85. All thanks to the mutiny led by Sculley. Here, again, the idea of rejection by your own people returns to haunt him. But he’s not the kind to slip into a maudlin-filled cocoon. He sees this as an opportunity to check out new avenues. 

Animation seemed like a pretty new and daring venture. And that’s when Pixar took flight. He spent the next 11 years, amongst other things, on nourishing Pixar into becoming what it is today – the most profitable animal studio in the business – which he eventually sold to Walt Disney in ’06 making him its largest individual shareholder. Even Walt Disney would have been proud of him!

Meanwhile, Apple realized it can’t do without Jobs’ chutzpah so they invited him back and he rejoined the board in ’96. It’s been a helluva ride for all Apple-worshippers since then! His phenomenal vision with a mantra of keeping tech as simple as possible clicked with the masses. 

Beauty lies in the ‘i’ of Apple. 

Cute little gadgets like iPod, iPhone with countless apps and heavier products in the form of iMac, iBook and ilk captured market’s imagination. And still do. Only multiple times more. iPad2 was the latest offering from their storehouse. All in all, innovation has been a key word in the way Apple thinks and works. And Steve Jobs plays first hand role in every execution. In fact, an anecdote about him advising his employees from the hospital bed while he was admitted for liver transplant is legendary.

He was declared the CEO of the noughties for all the good reason. But he has detractors too who criticize him for his clandestine design practice and ego! At least Apple is not facing plagiarism lawsuits like some top-shot tech companies are. I’m not defending it or anything. Just saying that their way of functioning works for both ends – assembly producers as well as end consumers. 

Coming back to Steve Jobs, he resigned from his CEO position the very week I offered my resignation from transcription. Like they (don’t) say, great minds resign alike! He’ll be serving as Chairman though but his duties will be severely clipped due to the prostrate cancer he’s suffering from. The very news of his resignation sent the share market into a tizzy. But then it’s Apple and they hardly do anything wrong. He must have it all planned out. At least he always seems to.

Anna: An Inconvenient Hero

Now that Anna-mania has substantially subsided in this country, I’m wondering what exactly makes a person hero in India. It’s an open secret that for a nation of more than 1.2 billion people, we face a severe drought of real-life icons. And Sachin alone won’t suffice.

In the midst of such anomalies, a 74 year old Gandhian named Anna Hazare declares a non-violent war against corruption. His cronies, Team Anna, even came up with a strong draft (Jan Lokpal Bill) which according to them, and unsurprisingly most of the urban populace, would check corrupt politicians and bureaucrats in the future. They expressed their desire to convert the draft into a law. As expected, the government didn’t comply under the disguise of protecting our sexagenarian constitution. As accepted, Anna embarked on a fast in protest.

All the major cities experienced an overwhelming stimulus resulting in gatherings to express support and solidarity. No surprises there when the middle class including youth rose in large numbers onto the street to make their frustration visible. It was pretty clear that Anna was not only popular but someone who meant business. He completed 12 days without food and the ruling government had to blink first.

What next? Celebration took place and people were exuberant believing they have dealt a heavy blow to a government that is unanimously perceived as corrupt. We can conclude that Anna went hungry but won the first round. Of course while doing so, he kept repeating that Team Anna were representing Aam Aadmi (Common Man) and referred themselves as Civil Society. They went on record and said they were fighting the Freedom Struggle 2.0.

How can people trust a government that ran scam after scam throughout the calendar? Genuine question.

But won’t the very democracy that enables hoi polloi to take a stand against what they feel is unjust be compromised if the draft goes against the very tenets of constitution? Another genuine question.

Democracy is the cornerstone on which our ever-expanding nation is based upon and is the primal reason why neither the geography nor the demography has changed since independence. Secondly, the constitution has been a dynamic force behind it. As far as the Jan Lokpal Bill is concerned, to be very frank, I’m not qualified or well-read enough to comment on the nuances. Nor are the people who think they are Anna. That’s precisely where the problem lies. A majority of those who turned up at Ramlila Ground to express their oneness with the cause most probably don't even exercise their right to vote. Furthermore, the media appeared biased and was literally commending Anna’s food-defying efforts.

Being human, we are bound to get excited but while we are at it, we often forget the price our next generation might well end up paying. A majority of you, your friends and their friends might be supporting the Jan Lokpal without even having an iota of knowledge what it states per se. It's similar to living in a city of blinds. Even if the light shows up, no one will have a clue!

Anyway, corruption didn't just took birth one fine morning and we were bewildered by its might. It's far more complex than that. And Anna Hazare is a honest but a very naive person to deal with that. He commenced with strong speeches against corruption but when the script didn't went the way he thought, the word bhrashtachar (corruption) was effectively replaced by the word sarkar (government). No big deal considering how stained the ruling party is in flesh and blood. But still.

In reality, the fight should have been a gradual progress against a systematic decay. The current need of the day is to check bribe and goonism rampant in the administration. And I guess one single bill is just a small step towards eliminating the virus. But yes, a very necessary step. Thankfully, the entire “uprising” was more or less peaceful unlike the ones that took place post-Jasmine Revolution throughout the Arab world.

Anna Hazare is not Gandhi. What happened in Ramlila Ground is a far cry from what happened during The Emergency of 1975. But the best part of the whole event lies in its irony. Anna's detractors would benefit the most if Anna proves right in the long run. After all, he participated in one of the most interesting episodes that tested the strength of Indian democracy. Net-net, the ruling government received a jolt it so desperately required and the country got a hero in return.

Can’t go to sleep? Go somewhere else!

I didn't shut up. I was asleep. To be honest, I wasn’t as I’m too sad to be happy to be asleep. But I couldn’t come up with a better excuse for the delay in scrawling a thing or two for my Space.

Besides, I don't remember the last time sleep walked up to me. It was always me who shamelessly chased her. Yup. That’s how it is. Leading a nocturnal life for the past four years has taken a heavy toll on my eyes and the areas surrounding them, including brain. I’d love to be Rip van Winkle for a day and stay asleep for the next 20 years. Or if possible, at least 40. After all, falling asleep is not as risky as falling in love. The process begins with you and ends with you, no strings attached.

Going forward, sleep will be one of those tricks only babies can perform. For insomniacs like me, expressions like "sleeping like a baby" is such a cruel joke. However, I try to find some solace in the fact that sleeping like a log *sounds* a lot better than sleeping like a baby. Ask any newly-parented parent.

Speaking of parents, I love my family but I love them even more while they are asleep and almost non-existent. On a bad day, you can't tolerate them breathing around you and then they go to sleep. And snore. Similarly, my ma, like all other mothers, is beautiful; especially when she's asleep and not nagging me to shut down the PC. You know, you're supposed to close your eyes and pray when your ears starts whispering something and the quickest way left to overcome a night is by going to bed. Embarrassing as it is, when I’m asleep, my boner points to God. On waking up, it points to Devil. Life!

"I feel numb on waking up from sleep." "Try to wake up from something else." “o_O”

If you wake up to go to work and sleep to wake up to go to work, there is not much in your existence to live. On top of that, if you are not able to cover your forty winks adequately, life’s worse. At work, you may be just a blink away from falling flat on your nose. But before you know it, your job teaches you how to doze off with your eyes open. Sometimes yawning is the only thing that keeps you from typing with your nose. While going through such ordeals, all you desire is the floor you’re standing on, nothing else. To make matters pitiful, sleeping on the job cannot be as bad as waking up and finding yourself in office. And you just want to go home to watch a movie and drift off to sleep with headphones on, providing background music to your vacant dreams.

On weekends, being asleep is like a routine before Monday blues take over the scene. Waise, due to irregular sleep patterns, Monday doesn't wake up before we do like it once used to. Thanks to sleeplessness, we don't wake up scared in the middle of the night anymore, either. So in a way, there's plus points too.

There are two kinds of people in this world - those who try to sleep and those who try to live their dreams. The ones with sleeping disorder don’t fit in. They are the eternal misfits tortured by a f-ed up biological clock. For them, insomnia is rest for the soul. Moreover, by any logic, a deaf man sleeps soundest. Come to think of it, disability is an advantage in this case. When you have a sleepy face, no one frankly bothers whether you are paying attention to what they're saying or not.

I don't have a dream left/ Just a volatile wish/ A night to sleep my life off/ Or live my death in peace!

Sometimes all you need to do to make the world a better place is sleep. After all, you don't sleep. You just successfully pretend to dream. And at the end of the day, you go back to sleep with yourself. Happy are those who are asleep when they wish to be asleep and richest are the ones who sleep sound at night. Bleh. Sooner or later, everyone falls asleep. Despite massive advances in science, we neither know where sleep comes from nor where it goes back to.

May you sleep so deep that you forget your old self and wake up as the person you always wanted to be.

Enough of sleepy jabber. I should be asleep now but I am not. I shouldn't be napping in office later but I will be. Anyway I hereby exercise my right to be asleep again.

The monk who never sold his old bike

Einstein and I share a liking for bicycle, violin and sailing. Okay. I haven't touched a violin nor sailed yet but I’ve got to start somewhere, right? You see, I like to think of myself as a very simple guy. Not because I am one but because I like to believe I am. Even my bicycle agrees with me. After all, we are friends. What are friends for other than pretending to think alike? As for the simple-guy-fantasy, someday I may not show up coz I'd be in Himalayas to fulfill my pursuit of becoming the monk who sold his bicycle. Yeah, something of that sort!

I’ve got to admit I love my bicycle dearly. But thanks to the kind of road we Indians are blessed with, it’s a tumultuous affair. In a more philosophical words, every once in a while we end up loving those who keep disappointing us. That's precisely the kind of relationship I share with my ‘cycle. He doesn’t appreciate my choice of riding under heavy rainfall with my windcheaters on. Maybe he gets cold. Whatever. Bicycles aren't supposed to be emotional. And it’s not his fault but he’s getting old like me and showing signs of infirmity.

It’s all right as long as the wheels are spinning.

Lately, while riding home, my bicycle turns nostalgic reminiscing the good ole days when there used to be a decent road instead of ruthless potholes. Anyway, I try to keep him well-groomed and oiled. Getting killed because of faulty brakes may sound heroic in Tour de France, not here. Moreover, no matter what, I often end up with a flat tyre. If you are a cycle-rider too, you must have noticed by now that a flat tyre is bicycle's way of demonstrating who is faster amongst you two. If you are not, think about it. I know this all thanks to the quality time I share with my bicycle. In fact, many a times, talking to my punctured bicycle while walking it home turns out to be the highlight of the day.

Me: “How far out can you take me from this society?”

Bicycle: “I know you're a teetotaler so stop talking like a boozer!”

By the way, do you remember the childhood thrill of riding a bicycle for the very first time on your own? You do? Well, that experience won't repeat itself again. Ever. This may sound cornier than I intend it to be but trust me when I say this – those moments may get lost in the labyrinth of our memory but nothing can possibly beat it. Deal with it.

Besides, bicycle is THE vehicle of the future. That’s a given. When this planet will be out of oil and all the misdeeds associated with its procurement, all of us will be going Dutch. And by Dutch, I don’t mean splitting the cost equally or something. I’m referring to the Netherlands’ love for cycling. Even today on a busy highway, the one riding a ‘cycle is the odd man (sneaking) out of the maddening rush.

Since I started with a narcissistic paragraph, let me end with one. I want everyone to know that I'm the only guy in my office that commutes by bicycle. Ergo, I'm saving the environment for your kids. In legal terms, each one of you owes me big time! Also, I’m the only known superhero who prefers to be a messiah who can’t walk on water but can balance himself on two wheels!!

Know news is good news!

Disclaimer : No journalist or media-person was harmed during the making of this blog post.

You wake up everyday. I’m sure you woke up today, too. Once you are done with that, you get started with your routine. And one of the commonest human rituals is to read newspaper or to switch on the TV for news. (Unless you are one of those lucky people who are illiterate but content with their mundane ignorance!) Now, if your day begins with news, what does it say about you as a person? You are curious? Yup, always been. Want to stay abreast of current affairs? Great!

But what exactly do you do with all that you read and learn and watch presented under the garb of news? Nothing, in most cases. Following news is just another evolutionary practice inculcated into our daily life for knowledge’s sake. There is not much one can do about a majority of stuff out there on the paper or screen. So why are we so fond of news, be it good or bad? Because we are an entertainment-loving species and news is gossip presented in a very refined manner. As elementary as that.

On a personal scale, I relish half-baked truths. I have them for breakfast daily. The French in me calls it biscuit. They call it news. To add to the misery, I read something or the other every morning which tells me I should quit reading them. But I never do. In fact, the recent events revolving around Rupert Murdoch made me realize that even some of the oldest media giant might go down for news. Meanwhile, I’ve got no doubt that the world would miraculously change for the better the day we stopped reading newspapers. But then, even if I switched to TV, I’d still be hopeless. After all, in India, the thin line separating TV news from TV soaps is almost invisible now. And this has been the case long before Arnab decided to put the media in comedian.

You see, there might be absolutely nothing out there to report but our media will beautifully turn it into news for gab-hungry masses. Anyone can create news out of thin air. If nothing else works, the media can report on the thinness of the air. [No, wait, the weather bureau is already doing that, aren’t they?] Moreover, watching news destroys a few of those newsworthy moments that could have been ours. Being the minions that we are, we’ll never know what is true and what is being reported as true. Unfortunately, rumours won't give up on news at any cost and vice versa. Fortunately, the spread of fire will never catch up with the spread of its news.

One lesson newspaper teaches us every single day – better not believe every crap you read. Times changes, perceptions changes and of course, news changes. Remember when they got Osama (at last) and how he got killed by breaking news? No one was allowed to see his face nor his dead body but we somehow managed to gulp the shoddy information of his demise. At that moment, the less you looked out for news, the more you’re convinced of the sheer wastage of time and energy.

And the hard part is when they collect too many viewpoints at once and make you look confused than a newborn dinosaur. Goes without saying, the plural of news is nuisance. As a part of social experiment, we should read last week's newspapers and ascertain its relevance in present day, if at all. Or not check news, at all.

You’ll never come across a channel which will go “We’ve got breaking news for you! Damn. We just broke it!” That’s the whole point. There’s hardly anything sacred about truth or news or journalism at large. I don’t mean to sound cynical but everything is commerce now-a-minutes. And the day each one of us is happy is the day news dies.

Putting the quit in mosquitoes

You know what sucks other than my blog? Mosquitoes. Humans may find it offensive but "You suck!" must be a compliment among mosquitoes. Yes, that’s common sense unless you are a mosquito who‘s reading this piece and feeling offended. Moreover, for a mosquito, human body is just another free bar.

For the record, I share a very bizarre relationship with mosquitoes. I admire them as well as hate them. It’d be fair to say that we are engaged in a die-unto-death battle. One of us has to give up to let the other survive. In my otherwise insipid life, I am guilty of massacring millions of these pests but it was always them who started the fight, not me. But I have to admit that every time I slay a mosquito, the loser in me receives a massive ego boost. The feeling that follows such act is beyond words (and sentences and paragraphs and blogs and universe and everything else!). Thankfully, it's easier to assassinate a well-fed mosquito than a famished one. Perhaps that is Mother Nature's way of making sure no one dies hungry.

It goes without saying that they effortlessly defeat the Gandhian in me because I’m usually a staunch pacifist, even to the point of wimpiness. But being a human, you’ve got to do what a mosquito wants you to do i.e. murder it. Despite all of this, we share a mutual respect for each other. But love is not in the air. Mosquitoes are. The trouble with mosquitoes is that they think they are smart. And the bigger trouble lies in the fact that they are INDEED smart.

For once, they are born with this innate ability to overlook human ugliness. We should be gracious to them for this kind consideration. No wonder they are pious beings. They are a god-fearing as they constantly hum their prayers. Killing them is like a double-edged sword. You are displeasing both Devil as well as God. To make matters worse, they are born musicians. Anyone can kill a mosquito but no one can take away its music. Besides, you only share your blood with them, not your wretched DNA.

I guess early human beings clapped to kill mosquitoes and then clapped more to celebrate their kill. That’s how clapping and mosquitoes got introduced to each other. On a personal level, I firmly adhere to the principle of not mulling those who don't belong to my house. And anyway, even the mosquitoes in my office are professional. They'll bite you only if you're idling around.

Like I mentioned before, mosquitoes possess some attributes unbeknownst to the rest of living beings. For instance, dignity. A bed bug will be prepared to get into your pants but a mosquito won’t ever stoop so low for food. They do face hard times like the rest of us but they’ll keep their proboscis stiff and stay out of fear. Well, for anecdote’s sake, I do remember a swarm of panicked mosquitoes once invading my room. I figured out then that nothing else scares the shit out of them the way rain does. Rain is like a wet ghost to them.

As I’m typing, I can’t help notice this time of the night when some fat mosquitoes get high on blood and crash into walls like drunkards do on street. It is also the period when you’re bound to be touched by their unparalleled love for your skin. You can’t deny that they love you even at their cost of their bloody life.

Appropriately, to set the mood right, I haven't killed a single mosquito tonight. Yeah, age and non-violence is catching up with me. Peace is temporary. Also, it’s a relief there ain’t any clapping limits on killing a mosquito. Or else, I wouldn’t have been the mighty mosquito warrior that I claim to be.

In closing, killing mosquito is a lot like playing Counter-Strike with your own blood and obviously I enjoy it but I won't be satisfied until I participate in the execution of that one last mosquito left on Earth.

A letter to my 16-year-old self

Dear Me@16,
This mail shall reach you in the worst of your lostness and stupidity. But it’s alright coz you won’t be THIS young EVER again. And one day, nine years down the line, you’ll wake up and see yourself writing a blog piece on how things could have been different. At that moment, you’ll be running short of words while being busy looking for better excuses.

I understand you’re not sure what you want to do with your life. No one is. You are not the first human to be blessed with such indecisiveness. All around you are confused but they just pretend as if they know your roadmap. All you have to do is make a choice and stick to it. As of now, you must be wondering whether to opt for Electronics or Arts. Trust me, go for Arts. You are way too dull for engineering math and way too good to have a *secured* future. It’s better to be an unsuccessful writer than a terrible engineer. No kidding.

Pay attention to what I’m saying as I reckon you don’t listen to anyone. After all, I know you better than anyone else. Most importantly, live. Being scared is not a neutral trait. Stop being shy, you dumbfcuk! Go talk to that girl you liked in school. Trust me, it’s worth a try. Spend more time with grandma. She’ll be gone very soon. Take good care of your health. Swim. Run. Cycle. Play football. Do everything that you love but won’t get you killed before you turn 35. Stay in touch with those few dear school friends whom you’re not going to meet on a daily basis anymore. Send a common Thank You Letter to all school teachers and mention what they mean to you. You are not as bad a poet as you think. Of course, you could be worse than that but don’t you dare give up. Keep scribbling. Learn to play guitar. But don’t sing. Some voices are better left unsung.

Enough of lame advices! Moreover, there’s no point in talking sense into you anyway.

No matter how much I try, nothing will change. You’ll commit the same mistakes I did. You’ll learn the same lessons I learned. You’ll ultimately become Me@25. It’ll be a fun ride, though at points you’ll feel otherwise. And then one fine morning, you’ll write what you’re reading right now and feel good about having an active memory. Like they say, it’s all written…. in destiny or on internet.

Yours very own,
Me@25

N.B. The idea for the above piece came from this post where I left below my more-than-necessary-but-honest comment.