Well, it has been a really long time since I wrote something on my blog. For most of this year, I have also not maintained a journal. What started out as an attempt to save time in what was turning out to be a busy work life as a consultant has now turned into a more principled stand. My journal was always meant as a disciplining device - I started it when I started disciplining my mind back in Class 7 or so. Now, since I do not reflect on my activities at the end of each day, I do not feel the need to change an unproductive phase of my life. My idea was to start living life without crutches, and I do not feel I'm doing a good job of it.

I have often been called arrogant, and I deflected that criticism (both internally and externally) by arguing that arrogance is a refusal to change. I was always a proud individual who would be very sensitive to public criticism, but also someone who would internalise what even the worst of enemies would have to say about me, and then act on it. This made me willing to change, and hence not arrogant. Now that I do not have my journal, I take far more time to internalise and react to things, and hence my resistance to change has increased. Now, in the true sense of the word, I am turning arrogant. For example, earlier if my best friend would say something critical of me, I would think about it while writing my journal. Now, I try to forget it as soon as possible (so it doesn't screw with my happiness), and hence I do not change.

That brings me to the question of motion in life. Motion is a beautiful feeling, a great distraction. It is also a sieve that separates the ephemeral from the persistent. I have found it a massively useful tool to not get stuck on to a certain feeling, emotion or person. If I try to move on in life, I will either forget the thing, or remember it. If I forget - it is a sign that it was not important at all. If I still remember it, that is a call for action. I have seen far too many people - some of my closest friends - ruin their happiness because they get stuck on to something. People change, situations change and life itself changes. Your happiness will only be guaranteed if your mind shows the pace and agility that the world and nature around you will show.

I strongly believe that if you want to be truly happy in your life, you need to detach yourself and be an involved observer in the world (what I now refer to as the 'Vishnu' model of enlightenment). At every step, you have to be conscious of the things happening around you, and your own feelings. At the same time, you need to realise that most things in this world, and most emotions you feel, are temporary. A break-up, for example, is not going to give you the pangs beyond a part of time. I personally emerged strongly from a terrible relationship crisis. Yes, it took me a bout of clinical depression and nearly a year to completely come out, but I did it. Today, I can look back at that time with no bitterness - and I wish I had known back then that it never matters. But well, it is the falling down which taught me how to get up, and for that I am forever grateful.

This is not my first post on arrogance, and will certainly not be the last. Given that arrogance is something that is felt, and responded to differently by different people - accusations of arrogance will continue with most individuals till they die. Very often, arrogance will be a natural accusation for someone who goes on to transform or revolutionalise things - this is because years and decades of indifference make some institutions so cold to internal change that only a heated external force will be able to transform it.

What I have tried to do is to crystallize my thoughts and come up with a definition that is both specific and actionable. In that spirit, I define arrogance as a unwillingness to change. I am all for people with strong opinions, for I believe that it is such people that can get the world around them moving in a particular direction. However, even this revolutionary genius must, in its heart of hearts, be open to its fallibility.

When people call me arrogant (especially in a materialistic sense of the word), a part of me does feel hurt. Primarily because all the struggles that I have been through seem to be ignored when such a judgement is passed. For example, when my espousal and praise of an iPad is construed as materialism, I go back to the days when I would have to take the DTC bus every alternate evening to go to a dingy cyber cafe and start filling my US undergrad applications. Those applications bombed, not because (I believe) I did not materially have the goods, but because of my lack of knowledge and information. Today, the iPad is a ready window to a world of information. Not only does it help me keep track of news all the time (unlike my first few months at McKinsey when I didn't have the time to read papers), but also to be quick in replying to people who reach out to me, to post on Absolute Interview etc. The iPad, hence, is an enabler - as much as it is a materialistic indulgence. Yes, it hurts me when people accuse me of having turned 'elitist' or materialistic. 

However, it is extremely easy to rationalise away this discomfort. That people do not know my entire history, least of all the struggles hidden in my past, will always be true. Not even my best friends know all about how and where I came from. The reverse is also true - I do not know people well enough. Does that mean we do that judge people? No - that would certainly make the world extremely boring and indecisive. I would encourage people to be judgmental and form opinions. The only caveat I would put in is that this judgment based on half information should not be functionally important, and should not be 'arrogant' in my sense of the word - i.e. unwilling to change.

On the flipside, I am enjoying this phase of my life where I'm being 'arrogant' in the conventional sense of the word - spiteful, disdainful, impatient and extremely sarcastic. Firstly, after having spent a couple of years avoiding those traits, I find accepting them extremely refreshing. It is a new and exciting phase of life. Secondly, I find that it has made me more effective in my dealing with people. It enables me to be bold and brash, to call a spade a spade and hence to get to the point quickly. Since I know that my fundamentals are rooted in my introversion and my humble beginnings, I am sure that I don't run the risk of over-doing it. Plus, as long as I am keenly aware of this, I'm sure I won't cross the path of no-return.

Here's a final submission. I feel extremely pained by the egocentricity of people around me. Some of them who turn to our common friends in order to wash dirty linen in public, another set of people who cry and post on facebook about their (self-inflicted) pain and suffering. It is their loss of context that surprises me. I do not complain about the fact that they don't 'care' enough about me - they shouldn't care about me excessively, and for once in life I can say 'it doesn't matter' with my hand on my heart. What bothers me is that they forget that they are irrelevant in the bigger scheme of things, and hence their 'pain and suffering' and 'tears' is only a fraction of an irrelevant thing. In life, they are holding on to maya, which if they hold on to any longer will cause their conscience to be put into slumber, perhaps a phase of self-pity and decay. Instead, they must unshackle themselves and experience rasa, or the manifestations of life, including its joys and sorrows. That will be the path to a happy life, I believe.

Here's an article that has been trending on facebook today. It argues how marriage is a selfless act, and that it is the spouse's happiness that should decide whether one gets married or not:

http://sethadamsmith.com/2013/11/02/marriage-isnt-for-you/

I'm not anywhere close to being an expert on marriages, but here are my two cents on the subject. I have a few points of vehement agreement - for example, that best friends should fall in love.

However, this post is to highlight my points of disagreement with what has been said, and here they are:

• Just logically, the article fails to explain why it is important to keep the other person's happiness as the top-of-mind consideration. It addresses this when it says - "the more you love that person, the more love you receive." This is obviously a self-centered argument. Except for the altruism of making someone happy, why is it important? No answers there.

• Sridevi says in English Vinglish that someone who is not happy in a relationship also cannot make others happy. This is very critical from my perspective. A happy soul can be a powerful beam of hope and joy for lots of people, and hence if there is a source of constant discontent in the person's life, would it not be better to cut it off? Would you rather make 1000 people less happy than make this 1 person happy? Why not be a man/woman of the world?

• People will often say "I did this for you, I did that for you." Now that means this individual is very self-centered. Will a marriage/relationship succeed if one of the parties is such? Why should the other, less self-centered person not break this bondage, free himself/herself up and be a source of joy to people who more deserve it? 

• I fundamentally believe that people who make a list of what all they did for a relationship aren't people worth being around. Plus, if all you did is not good enough, why should one even bother about you? Second, often times it is not what you do, but what you don't do or restrain yourself from doing that proves how much love you have. People who in their childish exuberance do what they think is in the best interest of the relationship are likely to vitiate the atmosphere so much that it is better to exit.

In conclusion, I do agree with the Walmart philosophy that one should return what one doesn't like. Relationships and societal norms are creations of human beings, there is something more fundamental that is out to be achieved by people - something that isn't dependent on these human boundaries. It is what takes you closer to that goal which is important.

Leaving college

If you have ever experienced the numbness of bottling up an overwhelming feeling, you will know what I am talking about. I knew it would hit me hard, and hence I got done with it as swiftly as I could. As I picked up my luggage and made my way from my room in Mukarji East to the small gate behind the Principal's house - a path that we would frequently use while going to grab a bit at the South Indian Cafe - the weight of the moment was overpowering me; but I promised myself not to look back, not to feel weak and never, perhaps, to say that I want to undo that moment.

We were one of the last to leave college that summer, and had said several goodbyes, and often shed a few tears. The moment of our own separation, hence, was pushed into the future. There was, thus, nobody to bid us a goodbye, except for the friendly college dogs. I was probably happier that ways; when I was leaving, the place felt dead, as if it had nothing to give to me. That sense of finality, of completing, was something that made the moment more tolerable.

Deepika Padukone says in Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani that memories are like a pack of sweets - when you open it, you can't have just one. That truly encapsulates the experience I had the previous night, while clearing my residence room. Gifts that had gathered dust in one corner of my room, objects that had a strong naphthalene stench from years of storage in the trunk and kind words that my friends had written for me - they all came back to hit me really strongly. I was moved enough to make one final dash, to go to South Delhi to meet a friend I had had a fallout with. It was the most impulsive decision of my life.

Next day, after watching a movie with my friends, I was all ready to leave. The packing had been done the last night, the clearances obtained and the memories neatly tucked in a cherished corner of my brain. I went to the room earlier occupied by my first year roommate, looked into the empty room and closed my eyes. The cycle of college - freshers coming in, graduates passing out - would go on even after we were gone. It was much like the cycle of birth and death, and that day I got a glimpse of how it would feel to die. It is in these moments of bereavement that one seeks solace, and like Kate Winslet said in Titanic, I promised to never let go - of my friends, these memories and learning.

Then, with the help of Gaurav, I picked up my luggage and went to the waiting taxi. I promised to never look back, never miss college. Because I knew that I had hidden the pain of separation somewhere, and if and when I'll open that part of my heart, there will be no end. I hold on to that moment of time very dearly. Someday in the distant future, in a tranquil moment with my friends (now all old men and women), I will open that capsule, and be overwhelmed. Till then, the show of my life must go on.

P.s. A lot of other things happened that day, of course. I've mentioned only the things I would like to remember when I read this post a decade down the line.

Over the past few weeks, as my knowledge of the deprivation of India's citizens has grown, my faith and belief in education in higher economics has declined. A senior once told me that at a time when the world is growing disillusioned with the 'unrealness' of economics, we as a discipline continue to focus on mathematics and statistics as a major, major component of what we do - and hence drive further into 'unreal' territory. For example, if I were a policy maker, would it help me to be spend days in my armchair and be 100% accurate about my answer, or put two and two together, and provide a broadly correct answer. In consulting, we call it the '80-20' answer - as long as I have discovered 80% of the answer (and arguably the more important components), is it worthwhile to spend effort looking for the other 20%?

My view of the economy has turned more sharply into a 'production and distribution' mechanism. By production, I refer to goods and services that augment human happiness or welfare. I use distribution in a very generic sense. For the economists who seek to change our country, the final agents who act upon our recommendations will be people who are not at all acquainted with economics. I wonder what will be more likely to move them to action - to say that my regression has been corrected for X,Y and Z errors; or to weave the insights together into a compelling story of 'so-what's'.

What has helped me in the past few days is some very elementary notion of how people behave, especially their social behaviour. Concepts such as externalities, public goods, asymmetric information etc have been the concepts I can most often refer to, when reading about India's social issues. To draw insights from the heap of data before me, I have not yet found reason to look at advanced statistics or mathematics. It is logic, and some basic idea of correlations that have been most helpful. For everything else, I can refer to the published knowledge of people who are far more erudite than I can hope to be.

There is a broader theme I would want to answer at some point, but I'll provide a flavour of that here. I find our collective distaste of the 'corporate sector' very jarring. We often paint it as a selfish, ruthless and inhumane world. But here I have learnt skills that my education (in economics, or otherwise) would have never taught me. Here I have learnt the basic idea of economics, to economise! It isn't always necessary for me to kill myself in the relentless pursuit of perfection, to engage in debates that will change neither my life, nor anyone else's; it is here that I have learnt most to value others' time, and my own; it is here that I have learnt to be respectful towards contributions that people in other fields are making - for example, by the simple method of calling them 'experts' (thus acknowledging our own lack of expertise). It is here that I have learnt to come out of the ivory tower, and have learnt humility. When among economists, I am as proud of my training in consulting, as I am about my training in economics among consultants.

The final set of questions I have to answer are - how can I ever hope to be a good economist if I'm not there on the ground (by 'on the ground', I do not mean 'rural surveys' or 'visits'. I mean being part of the people who are generating value in the economy)? how can I hope to change the world if I am cut off from it? How can I hope to lead change if I am distant? How can I change people's lives if I am more into numbers and statistics than into people?

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Disclaimer: This article is written in the spirit of questioning. Since I have not received postgraduate education in economics, I am ill-equipped to comment on its utility. One day, I hope to pursue higher education in economics - however, I do not want to go into it with even the slightest notion that economics is the saving grace of humanity. Only then, I believe, will my education withstand challenges.

Shouting at my hollowness

Sometimes, I read what people have written about me on various social media fora, and I have an urge to write back - either to clarify or to deny, perhaps even to retaliate. This is the amygdala hijack that psychologists talk about. Since somewhere, my emotional core is threatened, I will tend to react immediately, without much thought.

But then I hold myself back. I consult a few friends who are more level-headed. They tell me to hold back, to not write, to not engage in public vilification of others. To damage someone's self esteem is one of the most detrimental things that you can do to them, and though I'm sure I've done it several times, but it is neither correct not encouraged. True love isn't about going on writing thesis on what true love is; it isn't about trying to feel loved by enabling others to act in a particular way. We're humans, we have our pitfalls - we might never know what true love is. All we can do is to be kind, because everyone here is fighting a great battle.

I'm not immune to public opinion - I keep on reading what was written about me. It is an experiment, a Gandhi-esque experiment. To hold back, to not respond; to keep loving, praying and hoping. It is an experiment to not shout back at my own hollowness; to not blame others for my miseries. Nobody can control me, or hurt me, unless I let them; and I hope I'll never blame anybody for hurting me.

I should do whatever it takes for me to be happy; because if I'm not happy, I can't make people around me happy. I would love to be in a world where we are all inter-connected capsules of happiness. I will not shout at my hollowness; but move on, make new bonds, live new lives. Because every new person is going to teach me something, and as the eternal traveler, I must learn.

The Happiest Moments of My Life

Here are the happiest moments of my life that I can recall right now. Of course, I've been far happier over an extended period of time, such as the time spent on the Andrews Lawns with my friends in the first year of College, or the numerous trips that I went for. But here are those moments that are forever etched in my mind:

1. Columban Open Quiz, 2008:
   On the face of it, Kritika and I didn't achieve much at the Columban Open Quiz. We came 3rd in our qualifying round, and were then eliminated in the quarterfinals. However, to put it in perspective, one year back, in Shubham's team, I probably knew just 1/30 of the answers (and we didn't qualify for the quarters). I wanted to prove to myself that I could do well at quizzing. I had absolutely no background in quizzing, and found it more intimidating than exhilarating. Over the next one year, I embarked on a journey with Kritika where we saw each other grow as quizzers. The moment when our name was announced was both unbelievable, and the happiest moment of my life.Then when we did well at the Columban, I remember going back to my room and feeling empty - as if I'd been relieved of a big burden. I left quizzing soon after that, but it gave me confidence of several things - (1) I, or anybody else, is not mediocre; we can survive among the big boys if we want to (2) to be happy in what you get, and not be sad for what you didn't (3) to make the journey with someone is far more pleasant than to make it alone. Kritika is still among my best friends; and to think that we started as merely quizzing partners (and moreover, we both have nothing to do with quizzing anymore).
   
   
2. Manchit's House, 2010:
   I suppose I've given as many surprises to my friends as they've given to me. Yet, the one time when Aashik and I went all the way to Manchit's house in Meerut to meet him encapsulates the joy of giving surprises. Manchit had just fractured his foot and was recovering in Meerut. It was holi, and Aashik and I decided to go meet him, without telling him in advance, of course. It was also the day before Holi, so we were slightly scared. Pranati was our partner-in-crime, picking us up from the bus stop, and then taking us to her home (because, on the way, we saw Manchit leaving for the doctor). Then the wait for Manchit to return, then the wait for Pranati's dad to return; and finally landing up at Manchit's place unannounced. What that experience taught me was to not think too much; just going ahead and doing what the heart feels like.
   
   
3. Europe, 2013:
   To be honest, most of you would find my Eurotrip quite drab; it was a touristy trip that neither I, nor people of my age, would've found particularly exciting. But while waiting for boarding at the Rome airport, I felt a sense of achievement unlike anything I'd felt before. Here I was, living a dream that I had never imagined would come true. Secondly, I did it all on my money. My brother once told me how empowering money felt, and this was the first time that I understood what he meant. Yesterday, while seeing Paris in Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani, I reminisced of how being there was so unreal. To stand in the Louvre's courtyard waiting for Yash, to climb the narrow lanes of Amalfi in Italy and taste the original pizza, to search for an artist in Piazza Navona, Rome, who could make a sketch for Manchit, to compete with Japanese women to buy a spray paint for Gaurav, to walk along the streets of Amsterdam aimlessly - it all feels so unreal now. It felt like a sweet reward for all the sacrifices I'd made on the way; as Amrish Puri in DDLJ would have said 'Ja, jee le apni zindagi.'

It's been two years now - two years of resettlement, of growth, of being at the same place again, and yet fighting back every time. Two years of coming to terms with what had happened. It treated me severely, and yet it is the seriousness with which I took and the importance and aura I built around it that was my ultimate undoing. It's been two years since I came out of depression, perhaps only partially so; and I continue to lead a relatively calmer life, and this while asking myself - how much worse can it get anyway?

Some of my friends use the word 'depression' quite loosely and I'm sure it is a difficult task for anyone to say when exactly it is that they need help, and when things are beyond their own control. Looking back, I can think of a situation where one should know that help is needed. I'd say that a situation where the sadness is affecting one's social behaviour should be the trigger point. For example, I remember being extremely sad on my nineteenth birthday. My friends had put in a lot of effort to put together a small surprise for me, and yet I remember being self-destructive and upset. Another pointer would be the loss of rationality. This is obviously harder to figure out because to detect a loss of rationality itself needs a certain degree of rationality.

I don't know how I slipped into depression. I remember behaving increasingly irrationally because I was having troubles with my friends. This was also perhaps the only time that I was evicted from the class due to a severe discipline issue. I had lost interest in life, and I didn't see the point in continuing with life. I rationalised it saying that the net present value of all my expected future happiness was less than the sadness I was experiencing at that time. I had become violent and explosive, and more so with myself than with others. 

My interaction with my friends was the facet that was most severely affected. I wanted them to pay attention to my condition, and at several times I violently demanded it. Yet, at other moments I wished to be left alone, and I was equally violent in demanding my solitude. I'm sure it was an impossible tightrope for them; and one that God has been kind enough to show to me later on.

This went on for a couple of months, and began to thaw only when I sought professional help. The medication helped me take a distanced view from my emotions by making me feel unnaturally happy. Over the next few months, I began to feel more related, I also regained my rationality and began to think in a more balanced fashion. I wouldn't say that the violent tendencies went away, but they became more sporadic. On the treacherous path of recovery, I soon found myself engulfed by politicking over student societies, and that was another setback that I had to deal with. Of course, my thinking still hadn't matured to enable me to deal with those responsibly, but I look back at it as a learning experience.

I never understood the magnitude of unfairness I had heaped on those who loved me until I was put through the same by two of my friends. On the other side of this irrationality, I found every effort futile. We build walls of irrationality, and then we combine it with impatience and hence create a deadly mixture. It would always be helpful to just be kind to those who love you, and try your best to prevent them hurt. Because me hurting myself hurt them too, and I would have stopped had I cared about how they felt.

The depression did take away a significant lot from me. I lost my best friend at that time - firstly because I felt he caused/exacerbated my descent into depression; and secondly because my mind conditioned itself to hating him, and this was part of the recovery plan. Hating him became such an integral part of me, because I needed that support to climb back up. As I then discovered, true hatred (like I had for me) can only come after true love. My hatred for him fueled me and enabled me to do all that I did in the next one year.

I also suffered severe reputational damage. I'm sure I didn't behave in the best way in those winter months of early 2011. While some people formed a strong opinion about me, very few knew what was going on behind the scenes. I remember one day when I bunked class and caused bodily harm to myself, and yet I turned up in the afternoon for one of the society events that I had organised. My life was spinning out of control then, and I feel let down by people who formed an ill-informed opinion about me then.

Thankfully, all of that is well past. I have probably been put through far worse by the other people I have loved immensely, and yet I do not react like that. There is no more blood, or fire. I am able to internalise the pain and not have it pour out violently. The depression did make me a much better person, and it taught me so, so much. I also taught myself one thing - to never fear. One of the good things I did back then was to never fear - fear the repercussions of my actions, fear authority, fear what people would say about me, or fear the future. I never want to live my life in fear of anything. To fear is the worst I could do to myself.

I once had a friend about whom I always knew one thing - she was a good weather friend. I knew that she would be repulsed by or annoyed with negativity and hence would steer herself clear of it whenever she encountered such situations. While I did not take a moralistic position on it, I was always uncomfortable with it; because for me relationships were meant to be helpful. However, I've recently found myself being pushed down a path that will result me being somewhat like her. I prefer to call it a 'violent end'.

Let us first put this in context. As much as I like to be around people, I am perfectly capable of staying away from them too. The last year of my schooling, which I spent in complete isolation, did two things to me - it made me value friends and relationships; and it made me realise how much tolerance I have for solitude. In fact, I can trace back so many of my most essential traits to that year - the compassion, the latent violence, the fears and insecurities.

Over the past couple of months, I've felt trapped. I've felt that decisions in my life were not being made by me; or even if I was the one making them, I didn't have a free hand in doing so. I have been yearning for freedom. I have been dragged into unpleasant situations (and often due to my own lack of foresight), then asked to leave those situations at a time when I was unable to. I saw my self-image being battered incessantly; and it took a toll on how I was feeling. I have been habituated to put up a facade to hide what I truly feel, but then this is something that the friend I earlier talked about also did. I do not want to become like her.

If (and it increasingly seems to be a question of when, not if) I do reach that point of breaking off, I would be extremely disappointed. I believe that we shouldn't let bitter memories or bitter experiences make us bitter individuals. It must not reduce our zest for life - both for the bad and good days. My condition right now feels like a person who has been under slow poisoning for a long time. I have become intrinsically bitter about my condition, so much so that I have accepted it and stopped feeling strongly about it. But now, the more I am put through this hell, the more strongly I feel about my own righteousness. I think I've moved beyond the stage of reason and logic; now there is a strong voice that says so.

Human life is obviously not as predictable that sitting today, I could say that this would happen, and then that would happen. I really don't know, and here I've outlined one of those possibilities that to me looks very likely, and yet depressing.

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle" - Plato

On my facebook home page, I come across status messages put up by my College juniors where they talk about how epic their three years in College have been. It gives me immense joy to see people who see their past three years, and perhaps earlier, as a dream, or a journey. It is heartening to read about people looking back fondly at a 'great battle' that they have just fought. It is hard for me to imagine my life minus the story that I have weaved it into.

I look at my life as a great battle too. There have been three instances where I 'leased out' a part of my life to someone, and in each case I ended up getting terribly bruised. You do learn about people on the other wise, but that learning is too specific to be of much use. More importantly, I learnt more about myself, about my value systems, about what matters to me and what doesn't.

I discovered that the best 'metric' of love is the ability to withstand pain and still love. I think I've done quite well on that front. What I now begin to wonder is whether it is worth it. I believe there's a tendency in each one of us to take this 'great battle' analogy too far, and then to drown in, and enjoy, this pool of self-pity. At some point, we need to step back and ask ourselves whether it is worth it.

I have unfortunately had the best and worst experiences with people. I've met people who've filled my life with love, and who've been a pillar of strength, without knowing it. Then there are those who have sought to have control over my life and dictate the way I live my life. It has given my life a new direction and a new purpose - free will.

What constitutes Free Will:

(1) The right to dream without constraints

(2) An unprejudiced society to discuss the dream

(3) A nourishing atmosphere to pursue the dream

(4) The right to fail, and not be branded for the failure

(5) Most importantly, the right to start afresh

These ideas are now quite dear to me, because I have been denied at least one of these at any point in my life, and that is the source of discontentment and disillusionment in my life. I value these, and I hope to dedicate the rest of my life to these 5 principles.

I intend to interpret these as both personal and societal objectives. It is as valid for me as an individual, as it is for my idea of an ideal society. I believe it is necessary both for my personal happiness, and our society's welfare. Perhaps this is what Plato meant by being kind. Everyone is fighting his/her own great battle. The least we can do is to let them, and support them.

For love, I live. For love, I die.

Work has kept me busy enough over the last few months for me to avoid the pangs of extreme sadness that grip me occasionally from time to time, ever since I started staying on my own starting in my Class XII. I have also noticed that most of these instances occur when I'm about to leave home. Earlier, it used to be the train journey back from home to college, and now it is the evening before I leave home. 

What pains me today is the fact that I'm either not talking, or not in touch with many people who formed an integral part of my college life. I have often not found the time or the occasion to let these people know how important they were to my life; and how without their involvement, my college life at best would have been mediocre.

I also miss those who I intensely loved while in college. That love has now faded, battered by the forces of indifference and intolerance. I staked that love to begin what has only been  very enriching personal journey for me. But I miss that love, that anchor in my life. Today, I feel rudderless. Even the pursuit of a cherished career goal seems so mundane. That love was the glue that held my college life together. It was the fuel that fired my dreams and ambitions. 

I recently watched the 1990s thriller, The Devil's Advocate, where Satan (played by Al Pacino) says that love is overrated, biochemically no different from eating chocolate. I'm not one of those who'd raise their hands and vehemently disagree. I harbour the room for doubts. But at the very least, it is a combination of emotions, and evidently one who's value is greater than the sum of value of its parts. Over the last two months, I've thought a lot about love, and here is a crystallisation of my thoughts:

1. Every relationship based on love must pass through tough times:
   Humans are a reflection of their experiences in life. Unless two people go through an exhaustive range of experiences and emotions, their relationship, at best, would remain an unsure one. You will never know the answer to 'what ifs'. You can always argue that you have faith, but given that a man's experiences can change him, your faith will be unfounded. Of course, experiences are infinite and continuous. However, I look at it in terms of probability - as long as you have covered the most common emotions (and estrangement being a very important one), you can be sure that, in most situations, you will sail through.
   
2. Love can be one-sided, but contented love cannot:
   There is nothing in love that prevents it from being one-sided. However, for it to be a contented one, reciprocity and several other things are necessary. For this, I keep turning to Sridevi's final speech in the movie 'English Vinglish'. She says that any imbalance between two people in love can create unhappiness, and this unhappiness will gain momentum because an unhappy person cannot make others happy. She talks about the need for the two people in love to keep supporting the other, when he or she falls back. This is where I've found myself most lacking. I don't think I've been as supportive as I should have, especially given the relative calmness on my professional side. Respect and warmth are basic human needs from a relationship. Love must provide those to be truly successful.
   
3. The most important aspects of love are patience and support:
   This is in continuation with the chain of thought in (2). Patience is needed because apart from the relationship, the two people are also individuals - individuals who will want to challenge their shortcomings, weave dreams and then sail to unknown shores to achieve them. Sometimes the paths they take will seem strange, and will challenge our value systems. But we need to have the patience to let them explore, and either achieve their aims, or falter in the process. For an individual to grow, he or she needs a nurturing environment. Most of us need a positive reinforcement in whatever we do, and love is a forum on which we should always get it.
   
4. Most importantly, love never ends:
   If it ended, it wasn't love. If the sight of the person after a long time doesn't make your heartbeat go  faster, it wasn't love. Love knows (or should know) every aspect of the other person's persona, and hence no new information or experience should be able to 'end' love. However, what if the experience changes the person in such a way that the aspects you loved are no longer present? The question boils down to whether experiences can change a person's intrinsic nature, and I don't have an answer to that.

Of love, hate and fear

There are days, such as today, when I wake up in the morning thinking - how many people dislike me! Yes, it is an egocentric view of the world, but one that could easily be justified by verbal jugglery. I wonder, however, what it is about the idea of love and hate that rattles me so much. Why this constant need to be told that I am loved? And why this desperate scramble to be hated by as few people as possible?

I could bring it down to the following hypotheses - 

While in College, I always justified my affinity for affection and warmth by pointing to the total lack of it during the last year of school that I spent alone; or to go even further, my lack of close friends in my school days. After completing primary school and before joining College, I had only had 'school friends'. Once I was back home, there was nobody I would like to meet or spend my time with. Hence, I began to value friendship a lot. When I came to College, I made some really great friends, and it's no surprise that most of my close friends were friends in residence - it satisfied my want for friends outside of work/study. They made me feel wanted, loved and cared for. So why the fear of being hated? Probably because I feared I'll lose them. Very often, this fear lead me to fawn and plead before them. Often, I did things which today I cannot justify - so that I could be in their good books. What has probably changed now is that I'm more willing to let go. It makes me feel lighter. The emotional baggage was becoming too much. Now, I feel I've done enough - and if I am still hated, I'm probably being judged unfairly. Hence, it is best to let people go, explore the world and then judge me in a more unbiased way.

The second, probably more potent fear, is one of being hated by people who do not know me. On one hand, I feel bad about being judged by people who do not know me. But what irritates me more is that I actually care. To put it in a friend's words, what need am I satisfying? The only reason I can find is the constant need to be appreciated. Again, I can justify this need by showing it as socially optimal. For example, if this need to be appreciated makes me do 'good' things, then what's wrong? To which another person's argument would be - if you do things for appreciation, should you even do them at all? To which I'd say that the end justifies the means in this case.

In life, as in economics, two opposites can be justified by the same person. I am not principally opposed to this urge for appreciation. I am opposed to it more functionally - if it makes me sad at times, I should not have it. I do not like this position where I am dependent on other peoples' opinions for my own happiness. I thus feel the need to embark on this journey where I make myself more indifferent to people's opinions. Honestly, it is a fine line between being more indifferent and totally indifferent. The latter I would characterise as being arrogant. So here begins another of those journeys where I am trying to figure out the alignment of my own values' compass.

Inheritance of Innocence

If there's one learning that I have had in life, it is that innocence is a great asset. For some, it might appear that one is staying in a cocoon  Firstly, I would argue that innocence would not care much about public opinion. Secondly, anything that is unusual will most probably be made fun of. 

The biggest advantage to innocence is that it doesn't judge - opportunities, people etc. It helps one keep an open mind to whatever comes one's way. For example, very often people would let go of an opportunity thinking that it is not worth it, or is too tough. However, if one is innocent, one would not come into the situation with preconceived notions. The learning, in that case, is much more. In my life, I remember doing completely useless work at times; and I have got some of my greatest learnings and thrills in life from such work. To quote Steve Jobs, you can only connect the dots looking backward. However, judgement can prevent someone from doing things.

The second advantage of innocence is that it brings humility. When one acknowledges that he is innocent and hence does not know too much about things, it will bring a willingness to listen to people and learn from them. People define arrogance in many ways - some, for example, will define it is as boasting about one's achievements. I take a very functional view to arrogance. For me, arrogance is an unwillingness to change. How does it matter if someone boasts about his successes as long as he still recognises that he has to achieve far more? It is only when he starts believing that he has achieved all is there a problem. With this in mind, innocence will lead one to listen to people with an open heart, and this humility will probably result in stronger bonds with people.

Thirdly, innocence brings hope. I think the only power driving my ship right now is hope - if not for this hope, my life would have been over long back. I remember having the 'do you believe in God' conversation with lots of people. My answer has always been that I believe that God is a force that ensures that good happens to good people. Many people call this approach of mine as a 'rate of interest' idea. However, for me it is an idea of hope. If good things don't happen to good people, nobody has an incentive to be good, and then the entire society will stay in an equilibrium where everyone does bad. Why would I want to be part of such a society? I believe in God because I need to; and given what all I've been through, I do have reasons to doubt it (as well as plenty of reason to believe in it). Innocence keeps the hope alive - that despite all the pain, all the suffering, there will one day be redemption.

Skeletons in the cupboard

Very often I've had the experience when someone saying something harsh about me has sent me into introspection mood, which usually doesn't turn out to be a good experience. I don't think anybody likes to be hated. While some of us might argue that if we aren't hated, we might simply never have stood up for what we believe in. However, that argument doesn't cut much ice with me - for example, why is it not possible to stand up for what you believe in, and achieve it using persuasion rather than confrontation? My belief is that the world and people are intrinsically good natured (but embittered by their insecurities and experiences) and hence, persuasion should also work with them. With the caveat that I usually do not like to talk about myself, I begin my rant.

In most cases, I agree I need to be despised. There are two reasons why I believe so - firstly, in pursuance of my aims, I have had to rub certain people the wrong way; secondly, I now feel I procrastinate immensely, even when it comes to matters of my heart. The first gives me enemies, the second friends who are hurt.

Talking about the first, I have done two kinds of major things in life - firstly, things that are genuinely noble; and second, things that benefit my friends. In trying to do things that, even from today's vantage point, were noble, I have had to challenge the status quo. The status quo will be a stable system only when there is no pareto superior outcome, i.e. when there is at least one set of people, usually the dominant set, that benefits from the way things are. To break the status quo, it has been necessary for me to take an antagonistic stance to that set of people. The only question that haunts me now is whether I gave them a fair chance otherwise. Love and kindness are powerful tools, and I ask myself whether I really gave this set of people a fair chance. Perhaps not; perhaps I went into the entire thing with preconceived notions that were not always entirely mine. Did I have a discussion with them telling them about what I wanted to do and the change I wanted to bring? No. This is where I can understand being hated.

The second is where I feel most guilty in hindsight. Whenever I was helping my friends (as they were helping me), a natural question that occurred to me was whether what we were simply doing was concentrating benefits in a few hands, i..e whether we were simple transferring success from others to our friends. Life is mostly a competitive place; and hence helping someone mostly means you are harming someone else. My conscience could never really be at peace with that, but I closed my eyes back then and took a plunge. I still don't know where to draw the line; and I'm hoping that with time I'll learn.

Now coming to the second reason, the reason that would cause my friends to dislike me - my lack of complete honesty. It's a natural and sensible state in friendship to expect complete honesty from a friend. What makes it complicated is having lots of friends. A simple example - a friend tells you something and asks you to tell nobody, and then another friend asks you something for which this information is relevant. What should you do? In any case, you'll end up being dishonest to one of your friends. My current modus operandi is to be dishonest while constantly questioning my friends about the alternative stance I could have taken.

Lastly, not being able to be honest because of fear is, to me, my greatest problem. There are two problems with it - firstly, to live in fear is not the best experience; second, to be dishonest also isn't. This is again one problem which I now acknowledge and seek people's opinions. Is it worthwhile to lie knowing that the truth will hurt the friend? Someone told me that it isn't, given that the truth eventually always comes out. But what if you're a consummate liar and the truth can forever be hidden. Then what? Then does lying become justifiable? 

Honestly speaking, it's an exciting journey for me now. To be able to bring my life down to such crisp questions gives me the clarity that I had always been lacking. I'm sure the answers will one day come, and I'm waiting eagerly.