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Social Stigma – Cut The Crap

See me for who I am and not
what you want me to be.

Culture is probably the thing that differentiates us, humans, from animals. The expectation we all have from one another that as individuals we must follow – what society dictates. Essentially, what a larger group of people once believed to be the way of life are the guidelines and principles we look to. This larger group of people may even be nothing more than thin air – a few obnoxious loud men. If we do not follow these values and morals then we are not part of this society.

You could be a Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jewish or for that matter you may even be an Atheist. You will still find yourself living in one of these penitentiary guilds.

Your self evaluation tells you what to do and what not to do basis your understanding of these principles and guidelines. In comparison to the natural you, this can be a devastating realization of being an outcast.

This counters the natural you and may leave you in an eternal state of lost. You would be neither here nor there. Stuck in the void between the two thought processes you may start to loose the bare essence of your own identity.

Destroy The Old – Learn From It First

A rock, is what I would relate to an individual stuck in this tear. The person would come across as still, quiet and calm. But they will be in a constant state of discomfort unable to decide, to be or not to be.

Here is the solution in one paragraph, cut the crap and be who you truly are. Demand the society sees you for your difference and not cave in to social stigma. Demand the acceptance of your different perspective. That is what brings progress to the table. The attitude that is required to challenge the old and innovate the new.

Create The New – Development

The highest gods of Hinduism; Brhama – the creator, Vishnu – the preserver and Shiva – the destroyer signify a process that starts with creation and ends with destruction. Only to start the process of creation again. This cycle of creating something new and destroying the old enables development. This is so crucial to the sustainability and advancement of civilization that there is no scope for social stigma. As without challenge there will be no destruction of the old and the cycle would stop at preservation itself.

– Anant Agnihotri

The Sweet Corn

Every day, on my way back home from office, I see this old Muslim man sitting under the lamp post just opposite Manyata back gate 5, making corn!

Around 9 months back I stopped at his franchise and asked for one of those partially charred corns, and boy was it good! He was selling sweet corn. Something you find only in malls here. Closest one being Elements, in case you were interested. The next day, I stopped there again, with high expectations…

Pausing on the story here, many a times life has taught me a lesson but I just have a habit of making this one mistake again and again and again. My expectations are high, very high. Usually they cannot be matched and hence I can never be truly satisfied. Unless you catch me off guard! I see this as a problem, because I really do like being impressed. Gives me a kick-off adrenalin and a sort of high. Something more of a fresh breath that symbolises progress.

This time however the corn was not that great. This made me think, was it the high expectation or was the corn really bad. To get to the bottom of this, I did what anyone looking for an answer would do. I started a conversation with the peddler!

I enquired on the difference between the corn he sold me yesterday and the one he sold me today. Now, if I had known the reaction I was going to get from him, my approach may have been different. This one question acted as the last brick on his skyscraper of issues and his deep desire to burst out the pressure of his monetary position to another, already, stressed out individual, me.

Having a corn shop in that locality is not a viable business. His potential customers are the ones coming out of partially established restaurants, after a heavy meal. They are not looking for another appetiser. The people who do buy from him are not the sort who could afford sweet corn. They are the people who are substituting the heavy meal with some corn. They are conscious of their pockets and rather settle for the more localised breed of corn.

This explained why I did not get another sweet corn. He just got a few dozen to test the market. The new high quality product, with a higher margin, for obvious reasons, failed the market test. It took him over 2-3 weeks to clear the stock. Which tells me, the corn I so liked a lot, was old. Since it was the last one. Yes, makes me wonder, what happen to my high expectations? Maybe, I was just really hungry that day.

Anyhow, since then I noticed the man sitting under his lamp post, 5 days a week. But I never bought from him again. Today, as I was heading back home I noticed the corns were gone! He was now selling cut pineapples!

This is when I get that breeze of fresh air, that symbolises progress. The man was smart! He knew the basics of a business. Identify who your customers are and get them what ever it is that they want, at a price. I have never seen more people at his shop than what I saw today. Most importantly, I could not find that shadow of the skyscraper of issues on his face. He seemed to be more at peace with himself.

It takes a smart person to figure out when something is not working. It takes a wise person to foresee that something will not work. The difference, the latter thinks just a few steps ahead.

-Anant Agnihotri

 

The Tale of A Mind – Chapter 1

There is a deep interest this observer has in the silence of this old town. He gazes down from the sky late at night in the hope of passing an edict for the lost perception of right and wrong.

He cherishes the sight of a droplet gently sliding down the traffic signal lamppost. The condensed water reflecting the warm light from a lamppost on the other side of the tarred road, looks almost as the reflection of the rising sun on a lake. The observer freezes time in his mind to cynosure the moment. A moment where he takes a deep breath to gather courage for what he might discover today.

The town has one main road that runs north to south. The road is as dark as a black hole. Light does fall on this cursed path but it never reflects back for the naked eye to see – ventablack. Looking at the road makes him feel astray from his goal: as if lost in nothingness. His experience is made even more uncanny by the murk that surrounds the town.

It does not rain here while the people are awake. They are extremely arrogant, self-centered and thoughtless creatures. People who care about their pride and image more than they care about the rainbow that a drizzle can create. The clouds retreats to the near by mountains in search of a safer haven to empty their bellies. They remove their protection over the town from the scorching heat of the sun.

He observes the absence of the hateful noise from the talkative people in the town. People who talk first, think later. People he would secretly like to bury alive. Which is when, he notices a periodic whistle from the lone police officer, policing the traffic of thoughts. The officer wears the medals given to him by his parents, teachers and friends. That is his empowerment of moral policing.

This is the perfect stage the observer wanted to glide through the sky of the quiet main street of this town. A town, lost in a maze of self awareness.

A man comes walking down the ventablack road. The observer stares him in the eyes with curiosity. Who is he? What is he doing here? What is he thinking? The man shies away in conscious of politeness and quickly turns away. The observer looks closely and the man now tries to hide. Pretending to have lost a vital possession he starts looking aggressively under the vintage pink car, parked under a pole, scratching his head and panting heavily. He looks at the observer, partially smiles, and walks back wards. He is very busy; or so he wants to show. He walks away from the observers set – he does not turn back. The observer thinks to himself: “This man has secrets”.
There comes another man down the ventablack road. This one is aggressive: ready for a war. The observer zooms out a little to keep safe distance. A manhole – hidden from the darkeness of the road; the man walks into it and falls half body inside. He pushes himself out of the fall. His faces lights up red. He declares war! He starts to stamp the flowing water: left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, both feet! He gives it a stare and kicks it hard. Just to slip and fall back on his buttocks. The observer senses a strange feeling of distress within the man. Well he ought to, he just made a fool of himself. The man was not fighting the open man hole or the flowing water. He was fighting his emotions. And with that fall, he was thrown into defeat. Defeat, that came with a penalty. A penalty on his pride.

The man stands up, shuns away the dirt and accepts his prize of defeat and starts to walk south of the road. A few steps down the road and he now bumps into a pole. The observer zooms out further to keep safe distance from his expected reaction to the bump – eruption of anger. But this time, the man just nodes and continues to walk. Perhaps he realized something? The observer thinks to himself. Perhaps with this self realization, the man just won something. But he does not get his pride back. He can see that in the way the man now owns his body language. Perhaps he gained something a lot more precious. Perhaps, he just grew his first strand of white hair. He gained some wisdom. The man continues to walk away. The observer continues to watch until he disappears into the murk – without an incident.

To be continued…
-Anant Agnihotri

A Message, Father to Son

Son, life is not just a simple act of waking up everyday in the morning and deciding what to eat for breakfast. Life is definitely not thinking about the past or the future. It is also not about the many people who have or will come and go. There is a lot more to this simple word, life.

Life is a miracle, a miracle of your existence. A miracle of your conscience of this moment you are living in.
Your ability to differentiate your self from others. For you to think that you are unique, that there is no one else like you. Even though you will so eagerly look for the likes of you.
Life is an adventure where the roads are made to be bumpy, especially around the sharp turns. Turns that are mandate to make for your survival. Turns that will make you fall. Only to test if you still have it in you to stand right back up on your own two feet.
Life is a voyage in the volatile ocean of time. You have no option but to ride it out. But what you do have is control of your attitude during that long voyage. Be wise about it.
– Anant Agnihotri

The Ball and A Goal Post

I am not much of a football player. However I do know that a player has an understanding of where the goal post is, but his eyes, always, are focused on where the ball is.

Once he gets the ball, his focus is narrowed to his feat. Once he reaches the mid field, his learning of oncoming players forces him to choose to pass the ball. If he does not pass the ball, he risks loosing it.
He then moves his attention to a larger area. He strategies and repositions himself to enable a strong team presence. He knows, this is not a one man show.
As the team gets closer to the goal post the tension rises inside him. He tries to keep up with the rest. Yet his focus stays on the ball and not the goal. However, he, always, has an understanding of what the objective is.
His team is closing in, using experience and skill they maneuver the ball through the wave of opponent players. Passing the ball among one another they artfully put on a great show for the audience to lure on.
He learned well, when the coach was briefing the team. He positions himself just where the team wants him to be at that moment. Without the loss of even a second, a team player passes the ball to him for the final goal kick.
Does he goal?
In that moment, when his focus moves from the ball to the goal post, his years of learned skill and acquired experience comes crashing down to that one kick. If he learned and acquired enough, he will goal.
Having a long term goal is a luxury only a few have the vision for, but mastering the short term goals is a necessity for all. Master the necessity, and even a blind man, with the vision of a mentor, will goal.
– Anant Agnihotri

An Individual, Is Plural

The many who are in one.

You, an individual person, is more than just one.

You are a combination of all those people who have left a mark on your personality. Battles you have lost, battles you have won and most important, but rare, battles you decided to withdraw from. You have expectations and aspirations. You have people you look up to. And you have people you look down upon
.
All of these events and people just add to the mammoth of ingredients that put together a cocktail of ideas and thoughts in your conscious. Stirred by the complex emotions that eventually decide on your action. An action, that the world perceives as your true intention. As your true character.
But wait, is there a gap here? A gap in who you perceive your self to be vs who the world perceives you are?
There is no one person who can tell you who you are. You, an individual, is more than one.
The people who can help you understand yourself are within you. Talk to your self. Ask your self questions. Answer those questions your self. Trust your instincts and you will be found. Not by anyone from the outside world, but you, your self, from within. Who is an individual but not just one.
Learn the art of self introspection.

– Anant Agnihotri