Vidamatte...

I did not think I would meet many friends during this trip. But the thought of meeting and chatting with friends across the years was a temptation that I could not resist and so met many friends. This meant that I had to meet her too. She was not just a friend; she was my counsellor too. She spent many hours of her life, helping me understand me. 

When I knocked the door, she did not open the door. I thought the person who opened the door was her neighbour, whom I had seen a couple of times taking care of the two dogs and one cat living with my friend. Later, I was informed that this person was not that person. This person was my friend's friend who was staying over for a few days. She gave me a quick hello before leaving the hall. 

Forty-five minutes later, she came back to the hall to feed the dogs and cat. Soon, she settled down in the chair facing me. I continued to converse with my friend. Occasionally, she came into the conversation. She seemed like a soft spoken and relaxed person who had a certain elegant flair about her. When she mentioned that she stayed at Coonoor, my simple mind assigned the word 'hep' to her. As is usually the case, at some point of time, the conversation veered towards movies.  I, quite unnecessarily, talked about a movie that I watched recently. The movie named 'The voice of Hind Rajab' is now the saddest movie that I have watched. It beat the 'The grave of fireflies' by a mile or two. I had to blink my eyes at the rate of 100 times a minute, that is 2 times a second, to hold my tears back in their respective ducts. The movie was about a frantic call to a helpline from a Palestinian girl who she was trapped in an overturned car while the Israeli forces fired towards the car. The movie effectively brought out the plight of the common people whose life was and is helplessly controlled by states and politicians. 

She listened to my words quietly and said she had followed this incident in the news and as a result did not have the will to watch the movie. That is when I uttered the two lines that I should not have uttered. The first was "Oh! I had not heard about this incident earlier." She did not seem happy to hear this and asked "How come?" I should have noticed the subtle change in the tone of her voice. I did but my mouth shot out the response before my brain could send out an alert message. As a result, my response turned out to be the worst possible response to any question ever asked in this universe. I said, "Oh, the Israel- Palestine issue does not interest me." 

I heard one side of my brain scream at my tongue. At the same time, the part of my brain that jumps out of its skin when faced with situations where the human in front seems like a hungry lioness waiting to pounce of you, noticed the change in her pose and expression and jumped out of its skin. She went from a relaxed pose of sitting stretched cross legged in her seat to a menacing leg spread out and neck craned towards me pose. To make matters worse, this change took place in a matter of seconds.

With her eyes widened, she asked threateningly "... and why does the Israel-Palestine issue not interest you?" I am not sure if I have visual memory but her words, expression and pose are etched in my memory like the words "With best wished from Murthy and family" on the side of an Ever-silver vessel.

I realized I was trapped. Like the topics related to Modi and CJP, I should have never talked about Israel and Palestine. Most people on the planet supported this side or that. A few like me who did not care were trapped in the middle. This side thought I belonged to that side and that side thought the reverse. The best option people like me was to shut up and not say anything about this or any other issue. But it was too late now. The words had already escaped me and the person in front of me was burning my soul. 

Before I proceed, I have to talk about the transformation she underwent from a chill, sauve, relaxed, stretched against the back of the seat person to the fiery, menacing, what the hell are you saying, leaning forward with legs spread out, I am gonna get you person. If I had not uttered that foul statement, I would have never guessed that this person resided within her.

I was reminded of the scene from Manichitrathazhu where Ganga says the line starting with the word "Vidamatte". At that moment, Nakulan realized that Ganga has a Nagavalli inside her. I should mention here that the word 'reminded' does not do justice to the feeling I felt at that moment. It was terrifying. I have read the phrase “a chill ran up his spine” in many novels and now I understood how it feels when a chill runs up and down my spine like a child running up and down an empty corridor. I wish I could write a lot more about this transformation and my own resultant feelings, but the chill continues to run up and down my spine as I remember the transformation of the reel and real ‘Ganga’.  So, I move on reluctantly to the question she asked. 

I did not know how to respond. I mean, it would be easier to give the reasons for my being interested in something. I would have enough information about the something to give the reasons. But how can I give the reasons for not being interested in something? Actually, the reason is usually that I don't have enough information about it. I did not dare to mention this to her as I would have to face a follow-up question. “… and why do you not have enough information about this something?”.  The obvious response to this obvious next question would be that I was not interested enough to find the required information. So, I would get right back to interest. It seemed like an infinite loop. So, I dilly-dallied with "Oh! I don't like to watch the news. World events do not interest me." As pathetic as this response seems to be, it was and is the truth. 

She seemed to find my whole approach to the issue and life, in general, pathetic. As a result, time moved at the speed of light for the next 45 minutes. Everything became a haze. My friend and her friend bombarded me with information and thoughts on Israel, Jews, Palestinians and genocide. I learnt many facts. I realized my views on Israel needed correction. The Israel - Palestinian issue was no longer just an issue. It had become a genocide. I sat looking at the two persons, trying desperately to comprehend the words and sentences coming out of them. But my comprehension was hindered by two questions that had risen like 'Udaya Suryan' in the back of my head.

1. Did they think I am an idiot for not protesting against Israel and the genocide? They probably did but that did not matter. The events of my long life had made me realize that I am an absolute idiot sometimes but at other times I was anything but an idiot. So, I felt quite comfortable being considered an idiot. Thus, with time the 'Udaya Suryan' disappeared behind dark clouds of self assurance.
2. The second question however bothered me a lot more. How should I get out of this situation? It was followed by the supplementary question, what should I say at the end of this tirade? The easiest way out would be to berate Israel, but I still did not care enough about the issue to do so. That would be hypocritical.  But saying the truth in that manner could result in further soliloquys and maybe even violence. So, I sat thinking of a way out and prayed for an opportunity to get out of this situation.

My prayers were answered when someone opened the gate. The dogs started barking and jumping around. My friend and her friend busied themselves in holding the dogs and shushing them. This opportunity presented me with two possibilities.  

1. To say, it's getting late and run for my life or
2. To explain the reasons for this and many other issue not bothering me.

By then, my ego had a two inch deep wound in it and I had to at least let them know why I felt the way I felt. Rather, why I did not feel the way they thought I should feel. So, I chose the second path and I explained. They listened patiently. Finally, they were kind enough to smile and let it go. I was not sure if they understood my point of view or agreed with it, but I was not willing stay there to determine it. I was happy to get an escape path from this experience. My situation could be compared to ...

No, I will not end that sentence. That is a mean thought, and a good person should not even get that thought. But I got it and so, maybe, I am not a good person. But that's ok! At least, I am not Jensen Huang.

Style!

It's style!

What's style?

No one knows.

But they think they do.

Could it be the cloths?

Nah, cloths cover the body

From shiver and shame.

No, can't be the cloths.

It must run deeper.

How deep!

Depends!

Think of it this way,

Style's just style

Everyone's got it

In his or her own way

It's not just for few

Even if they thinks so.

They could agree 

Or disagree

That's their issue

Not mine.

They could think

It's good or bad.

That's their issue too.

Good and bad,

Right and wrong

Is always their issue.

Nothing's right 

And certainly 

Nothing's wrong

At worst, it's agreement

And disagreement.

So my style's mine

And your's yours

So, don't interfere

With my style,

With my life.

Curiosity Rants

People ask why I, curiosity, killed the cat? Well, I hate to admit this, but I was jealous. I am jealous still and would readily kill a few more cats. Did I hear you ask why I am jealous of the cat? Well! The cat lived an easy life. He lazed all the time, sometimes here and at other times there. In the past, he, at least, scampered around for food twice or thrice a day. But now, he only had to stretch his paw and food arrived. Not twice or thrice a day but every time he stretched his paw food arrived. Humans were ready to serve him, wherever he went! Different people served him different cuisine at all times of the day and night too. 

Here is the worst part, at most times, he did not eat the food at all; did not even touch it but wasted it all. I mean, he did not even feign interest and nibble at the food. He just plainly ignored the human and the food placed in front of him. The stupid human instead of being offended by this arrogance, fawned at him. "Oh! The poor kitty is not hungry. He's chleepy. Chleep little baby." Then the stupid, stupid human went ahead and kissed the cat. Kissed the cat! Hmph! That is the most disgusting sight on the planet.

This creature was smaller than a small dog, but it was adored by so many. It was the centre of attraction for most humans. At least, a dog wags it tail and licks his human companion but not the cat. Never! Sure, the cat wagged his tail, but he did so leisurely for his own pleasure and not for others. Sure, the cat licked, not others, only himself. I mean the cat lived with leisure. No hurry, no gratitude, nothing but only lived for himself. Is there anything wrong with that? No, nothing! That's the way life should be lived.

So, what is the problem? Why did I kill the cat? I shouldn't have. He did not deserve the death. He only went about living his life. It’s those damned humans who deserved the death. Calling that useless creature, cute, petting him, feeding him and kissing him. Kissing! Ridiculous! I hope the human race goes extinct just for this. I wish I had killed the human but that would be a crime. But killing a cat isn't and so I drove the car over it. Crushed it under the wheel. So, it's not just curiosity that killed the cat, it is also car-iosity that killed the cat. Ha, ha, ha, crushed him! Gone forever and ever and ever. Now just a splatch on the road. No longer cute. Try kissing him now, you losers. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

There, there, there, stop looking at me like that. I am not a villain. I just gave into my jealousy. I am only being human. I have the right to kill that cat. I run around trying to figure out things all my life, but what did that cat do? Nothing! He just relaxed. While everything under and above the sun catches my attention and grips me, the cat gave a damn about anyone or anything. Once, I saw a cat wait for a rat come close to it mouth instead of chasing the rat like Tom. Just lying there, wagging his tail slowly and waiting for the rat to come closer. If you are wondering what happened ultimately, the rat stupidly went close to the cat's mouth. But by then a stupid human fed the cat butter biscuits. So, the cat ignored the rat. Shucks, I should have run the car over that human. 

But ultimately, I could only kill the cat for that phrase, curiosity killed the cat rhymes better than curiosity killed the human. No, the latter sounds terrible. Curiosity can kill the crow or even a koala but that would be difficult. Crows are quick and I have never seen a live Koala. Cats on the other hand are lazy. They would rather be run over than move away from the path of the car. 

So, I, curiosity, killed the cat. If you ask will do it again, I will respond yes. Why not! It’s not like killing cats would result in a catastrophe. I understand that it would be a catastrophe for the cat itself but that would not be a catalyst for a major cataclysm. So, get those cats, load them on a catamaran and cast them away to the Catalan. 

Catham!

I hate...

I hate working. No, that's not it. That's something I believed was true but I don't think it is. That does not mean I like working. Nope, that will be a stretch. I don't like to work but I don't hate it either. So, why did I think of that first sentence? Was I hallucinating? No, I was in a hurry. In that small sentence lies a truth that didnot emerge as the sentence was incomplete. I have to add two more words to it. So here goes...

I hate working in corporate... 

Ah! I need to clarify something here. The term "corporate" that I have used above and that I will use a a number of times below refers to companies, particularly those in the IT industry. So, to reiterate...

I hate working in corporate. But I have spent more than 85% of my life working in corporates. So, the question is why have I spent so much time in corporate when I hate working in it? Worse, why am I  working in it still? The answer's simple, straightforward. It only contains one word. Money! There is a sensational amount of money to be earned in corporates and though money can't buy me love, love, in general, is overrated unless, one is talking about the universal brotherhood, sisterhood, friendhood, familyhood, robinhood kind of love (Note: the 'r' in robinhood is in lowercase to signify that it is a verb and not a noun). That said money can buy everything else. So I have emerged myself... No, not emerged, it's submerged. I have submerged myself in corporate for most of my life and I would be lying if I don't say I like the feel of having a healthy bank balance and stretching out my credit card to buy those pair of Sketcher shoes that I don't need.

So, the situation is complex! I love the money that corporate provides but I hate being a part of the corporate jungle. But what is the reason for this hate? The root cause for the hate is also money. Note the use of the corporate phrase 'root cause'. I hate that phrase. It is used everywhere. Every leader in every organization wants to find the root cause of something or the other. One of the main responsibilities of a leader is to motivate his or her team to find the root cause of something or the other at least three times a week. But what is a root cause? It depends! Depend on what? Depends on whom actually. It depends on the person whom you are trying to placate with the root cause. The idea is that once the root cause is found, a similar situation at a later point of time would not result in a need to find the root cause again. But in most cases, a root cause not being the actual root cause results of a situation results in the situation arising again. But interestingly,  the root cause determined in this repeated situation could be completely different from the original root cause. Ultimately root cause is a set of words that helps a set of people to move on from the line of fire caused by some mess up done by them or others.

I have gone off the topic. At this point I will try to amuse you with a few lines from the Whitesnake song 'Here I go again'.

Here I go again on my own

Going down the only road I've ever known

Like a drifter, I was born to walk alone

And I've made up my mind

I ain't wasting no more time

Ok, getting back to my dislike for corporate. The reason for both working in corporate and hating it is money. But why is that? Some of the highest paying jobs on the planet are in corporate. This means that the 8 or 10 hours of work that I put in every day gives me more than enough money to live comfortably.  Though the work is mentally taxing,  there are no discomforts physically. In a sense, I work a lot less than most working people on the planet and I earn a lot more. I remember, many years back a person telling me that software engineers work the hardest and they are not paid enough. He said that on a tuesday evening at 5 pm. He had come home from office at 3 pm and had taken a not so brief nap. At that time, he was sitting in a centrally air conditioned apartment in Texas. My friend and I felt offended by this statement. We too were living in similar comfort and we knew we were lucky to be there. We had no thoughts about us being a part of the most hard working people in or from India. There were a few days when we worked hard. Even then we worked a lot lesser than the people who sold pani puri by the side of a road or pulled carts.  

The second reason for my working in corporate for money comes from experience. A couple of years before COVID struck, I started working at a school as teacher. I was aware that my salary at the school would be low and I knew how low it will be. Yet, I  felt shocked when I saw the number that denoted my salary in the appointment letter.  It was the same as the number on my appointment letter from a big software company 22 years earlier. But, that did not stop me from jumping into the world of learning excitedly.  The next six years were the best and worst years of my life. Worst years financially and best years personally. I lost an incredible amount of money during those six years. Yet I  worked really hard. I have not worked that hard since nor had I worked that hard earlier. It was very satisfying. But I was in a financial mess by the end of the fifth year and I had to get back to corporate. At first I worked part time but within a year I realized I would not be able to live for long working at two places. So with a heavy heart I left the job I loved to do and went back to making money.

So, why is money the problem when working in corporate? Corporates function on a simple principle. Make a that lot of money now and ensure a lot of money is made tomorrow, the day after, the day after the day after, the day after the... If we don't, we are doomed. So the corporate lives with the insecurity that there is a good possibility that we will run out of money soon. As a result, we have to ensure that we run around looking for money like ants searching for food. But isn't that how we live, in general? Make money for my family's and my own today's needs. If that is achieved, plan for the expenses that might arise in the immediate and distant future. So, there is no living in the now. If life is the same why is it annoying when it comes to corporate? Well, in the personal realm most of these needs come from inside but in corporate it comes from outside. More importantly, in the corporate environment many hours are spent in discussing all this in formal meetings. 

There is another subtle difference. In the personal realm, a certain amount of money flows in and a person's responsibility is to ensure that this amount meets his or her today's and tomorrow's need. In a sense there is some guarantee that a certain amount will flow in and the idea is to manage life within that amount. But in a corporate this guarantee does not exist. Also, unlike a family, the corporate tends to spend more as the flow of money increases. Damn! None of this sounds true. Families spend a lot more than the inflow of money. I have landed in a tight corner. The issue I have with corporate is not justmoney. Money is a part of it but it is a lot more than just money. It's insecurity. 

Corporates are swamped with insecurity.  This comes out as many lacks - lack of money, lack of time,  lack of people, lack of customers,  lack of partners, lack of security, lack of... The whole system is driven by insecurity.  The thought that if we don't do this now, we are doomed. Is that a problem? It is for me. The problem is with the the word 'this'. That 'this' is not a simple this. It is more a 'that' than 'this'. By that, I mean, the 'this' is set so high that it seems like a 'that' than 'this'. I will use an example to make this and that clear. Say, a person taking part in high jump has the ability to jump 6 feet. But his or her ambitious coach sets the bar at 8 feet or even 7 feet and says "if you don't jump that high, we are doomed." This seems to me as setting the athlete up for failure but for many it may seem like a goal and goals are good. Well not necessarily but that is a topic for another day. The high jumper tries and jumps well but does not cross the 7 or 8 feet bar. The coach gets furious and berates the high jumper, who gets demotivated and his enthusiasm towards high jump reduces, maybe by a bit but reduces anyway. Who benefits from this situation? No one. But this is the attitude in a corporate. 

The issue I have with this situation is not the setting of the bar at 7 or 8 feet. That is setting an ambitious goal, which per se is not an issue. The issue is the feeling we are or will be doomed, if we don't jump that height now! Why? How does it matter? Why use this scare tactic to motivate? Is that motivation at all? When the jumper does a good but not good enough jump, everyone feels unhappy. The appreciation of the attempt is lost. This effort could have become better over time and led to success. But no, that is not the intent. The intent seems to be "I know what is good for us. I don't care about your thoughts on this. If you don't achieve what I want you to achieve, you are doomed, you are a failure." Of course, in most of these cases there is the underlying motivation that achieving this will make you rich. This is especially true in corporate.

A few days back,  I ran into a nasty bug. It was a new module and the bug had to be solved immediately.  The project lead called me and said "This is important. Get it done immediately." I panicked and fell under Claude's spell. I wasted time and the pressure increased. One Wednesday evening, the project lead called and said "if you don't finish it by tomorrow, the CEO will put us in front of a firing squad." But those words did not do anything other than increasing the pressure. Each time I ran the test, it took 8 hours for the test to reach the issue. So, the going was slow. I panicked, Claude hallucinated and I lived like a zombie under its spell. I spent 5 days solving an issue that only required 0.5 days. The ultimate solution came by on the Tuesday after the Friday when we were supposed to be shot. Today's Thursday and the issue is not completely solved but no CEOs are talking to me or anyone else about it. The project should have ended in February. We are now in August but the end is at least 2 months away. That is good as this means I make money for another two months at least. But the pressure of we are delayed, do it now, seems unnecessary.  But corporates thrive on this feeling. It's an artificial battlefield. There are no guns or bombs but the fear of getting hurt lurks around at every moment. 

Why? Can't we relax and immerse ourselves in the pleasure of solving issues? The thrill of finding an issue and solving it is incredible to live through. So is the thrill of coming up with an algorithm  or the thrill of learning something new, regardless of its size. Work in corporate is fun but the atmosphere and the people who run it are not. The constant insecurity and the constant feeling of lacking something,  makes life in corporate miserable. The mentality of the leaders when dealing with work makes working in corporate annoying. I guess it is for this reason that I have never been a CEO. The lack of insecurity and the need to be happy at all times makes me unfit for execution in corporate.

I guess I am not cut out to make millions!

Elk-Shelk

I went to check on a elk.

It was eating grass in a bulk.

Seeing me, it started to sulk.

I seemed a pain in its neck.

It's dinner was now a wreck.

I should have stayed on the deck.

Not clicking pictures, what the heck!

For the elk, I seemed like a speck,

Disturbing its input for milk

For her calves, separated by a trek.

I need to keep this poem on a check

For words rhyming with elk

Are not available in bulk! 

Indulgence

It is ironic that I am attempting to write poems. I don't understand poetry. I find it difficult to traverse through the imagery, metaphors and similies that reside in a poem. Then there is something called meters. I have no idea what they were. Yet, I have written many poems. Why? Poems help express or note down thoughts quickly. I look at poems as a write up in which I don't write complete sentences and let grammar float away like a he, he, he, helium balloon. Also, poems offer two challenges to my writing. First, can the idea be expressed though grammar is let loose? Second, does the poem have a rhythm? After writing a poem I read it out loud with some rhythm to see if it fits. If something does not fit, I change words or the structure of the line. I think this rhythm is probably what the concept of meter refers to. So, today I  have come to accept that my poems are probably poems.

Over the past few week, I wrote three small poems based on some minor experience.

Towards a billion Trudging ahead was a man

Bag on each shoulder,

His life's belongings.

Probably needs more,

Not probably, probably.

The world around him, with me in it,

Thriving to get more

By doing more and more.

How much more should I do

To be satisfied, 

To feel, enough?

A car, two cars, maybe three

One's a Benz.

One house, two, maybe three

One by the sea

One million, two, maybe one hundred

With two under the pillow.

And how long to get there?

One year, five years, maybe a hundred and fifty

With some luck.

I will get there

I might be dead by then

But i will get there.

I know, I am sure

I am gonna be a billionaire

Dead or alive!

In a circus

I 'm jumping through hoops

Like a circus lion.

No, a lion's too fierce

For me to be that.

I 'm more a donkey

A circus donkey 

Carrying hoops.

Not a performer

Jumping through hoops.

A nobody 

Lost in the crowd.

Considered lazy,

But is lazy

With no time 

To be lazy.

Busy jumping hoops

That don't exist.

Not even jumping

Just passing through

Making no impact

But thinking it does.

Too tired to rest,

Yet lacking the zest

To live through life

Filled with loads

That don't really matter.

I am a circus donkey

Being human

It was on that day

That I got to know

About his health

Till then I had focussed

On his wealth.

Money can be distracting

For it keeps attracting

Attention and exertion. 

So, I ignored his pain

Focussed on his gain

One might say, I am vain

But it should be plain

I am only being human.

Living in my own reality

Believing it's the reality,

Nothing else exists

Other than my values.

My value of utmost importance.

My world, in neat boxes

With defined edges,

More classical than quantum.

Castaways

I am tempted to start this piece with a disclaimer that goes like this. Any similarity of the characters mentioned here to any living or dead being is purely coincidental. But that might not be true. There is a good possibility that everything mentioned here happened. I have been assured by the two tailed, four headed being that all this is true. "Parent promise man! Its all true. I have seen it all" said zvi. 

Doesn't that last sentence sound cheesy? I mean what the hell is 'parent promise'? Should it not be 'mother promise or father...' No, not father promise.  A father's head is not important enough to make a promises on. So, zv's 'parent promise' is the same as our human 'mother promise'. The next point of cheesiness comes from the use of the terms zvi and zv's. Here again I should say I am not responsible for the cheesiness. The two tailed and four handed being assured me that in zeid land zeo do not have genders and refer to each other and zvi, zv, zeid and zeo instead of he/she, his/her, their or they respectively. To top it, the four tailed and eight legged being threatened to obliterate the whole of humanity if I ever refer to zvr in any other manner. So, to save humanity I have no choice but use these 'z' words. That said, I will keep the usage of these 'z' words to the minimum.

By now, you are probably wondering how many legs, tails, hands, heads does this being have. That is a good point to wonder. I too wonder about it too. Hey man, this being is like an octopus with many projections projecting from its... Kabooom! Earth and humanity destroyed. The END. 

Ha, ha, ha! Just joking. The earth will only be destroyed if the creature finds out that I referred to zvi as it. Till then we are safe.

Anyway, I have no idea how many hand, legs, heads, tails and whatever else the being has. Actually, that is not important. The being's narration is important for it describes the events from our distant past that no one is aware of. But consume all this with a pinch of salt... Well maybe a spoonful of salt for it may all be nonsense - a figment of that being's imagination. But I don't like to believe it. It sound real and I tend to believe that this happened.

With that introduction and the apology of a disclaimer, let us get into the matter that was shared with me. Well! Actually, I don't think it is important to share it. I probably should not share it either. But I have become a person with an insatiable urge to share, to talk, to write. So I share here what I probably should not share. 

According to the being all that I mention below actually happened. Zvi witnessed it firsthand and it is not hearsay. Zvi was there. I asked the being “Were you hiding behind a tree when it happened?” The being, in turn, asked “What is a tree?” I pointed at a tree and said “That’s a tree!” The being responded “Oh! Maram!” At that point, I realized that the being had been talking to me in Malayalam all along. So, I asked the being the next obvious question “Naatillu evideya?”, which in English roughly translates to “Where in Kerala are you from?”. The being responded “O! Ente naadu orupaadu doorathilane”, which roughly translates to “Oh! My place is very far away.” This is becoming painful. I will continue in English but remember that this conversation happened in Malayalam, the language of Gods who originate from the land popularly referred to as God’s own country.

The being mentioned that zvi was around in plain sight but as his body only reflected infrared light, the humans present there could not see zv. Zvi had to only take care to not run into any of the humans present. All the humans present did not move but sat in their designated locations and talked. Note, the use of the word 'designated' in the previous sentence. The being used the Malayalam phrase 'Adhadhu sthanathil' meaning they sat in locations assigned to them, meaning there was an arrangement and the arrangement was like this. They were all sitting on different levels of a tower. At the top, near the centre of the topmost level sat a set of people. They sat on the floor but on one side of this set of people sat another set of people on chairs. They looked similar to the people sitting around the centre. On all four sides of the platform sat other sets of people. They all looked different from each other. It should be noted here that the being described the people in each of these sets vividly but I refrain from reproducing them here as it might not be considered politically and non-politically correct to do so.

Below the platform, there were other platforms with different sets of people sitting at different spots. The being spent many minutes describing each of these sets. I got impatient and said “I get the point, can we move on.” But the being said “No! It is important to describe them. Besides, you have nothing else to do. You are my prisoner, and I am your master.” Those words probably require some explanation, but I refrain from explaining. Maybe I will explain on  some other day. So, me being the prisoner and zi being the master had no choice but to sit and listen to the gory details.

Now, it is important to mention here that these events occurred 12200 years ago, around 10,000 BC/MC/BE/ME/Whatever. So, it happened a long time back and it is possible that some of the events did not happen the way I have mentioned it below. I told the being so. Zvi got offended and said “What! Do you think I am a human being to forget things. No! It happened the way I remember. It happened the way I recount. So here we go. Now shut up and listen. Do not interrupt."

The being continued thus. “I was sleeping and was woken up by the sound of drums. I walked towards the sound and soon found all these humans sitting at different levels of a multitiered tower. Actually, it is better to refer to them as men as there were no women there. Soon the beating of the drums ceased and the man sitting at the centre of the top platform got up and started talking. Hmm, why is your hand up? I thought I mentioned that I did not want to be interrupted.”

“You did. But I have a question.”

“Can’t you hold on to the questions till the end?”

“Some I can but a few need an immediate response.”

“Ask!”

“Where were you?”

“Come on! How is that important?”

“That will help me in understanding the perspective.”

“What perspective?”

“Well! If you were outside the crowd, and not in the tower at all, you would have the perspective of a member of the audience. You will have the view of the people around, their expressions, their interest or lack of interest, their involvement and so on. This would mean that your perspective would be broad. But if you were a part of the people in the tower itself your perspective would be limited to your location. Your perspective would be influenced by the people who surround you and that impacts your perspective”

“Hmmm! That’s interesting. I did not think of it in that manner. I was right at the top. As the drum were being beaten, I made my way to the top of the tower. I knew the humans could not see me. So, I only had to make sure that I did not run into them. Anyway, getting back to the events. The man at the centre announced loudly. ‘It is time! The time has come! It has become important for us to name ourselves. There are too many of us with many differences existing between many of us. Some of us have a lot of similarities but many of us are too dissimilar. If we do not separate ourselves based on our similarities, these will disappear, and soon we will all be the same. That should not happen because some of the dissimilarities are important, and we should not dilute them by intermixing. For that reason, we have separated people according to the importance of their qualities and made them sit at different levels of this marvelous tower. Please don’t think of these qualities as good or bad. No! That is not the point. We are only considering the relative importance of these qualities to our society.’

It would not be wrong to say that on hearing these words I nearly fell off the platform. These were the most nonsensical words that I have heard in my life and mind you I was not young at that point and I had heard a lot of words, even nonsensical ones by then. But these were worst I had heard till that point of time, that is. Since then I have heard worse words. But it was never my business to interfere. So I continued to listen quietly. The man continued.

‘We are people right at the top and we are higher than the remaining. So we will call ourselves Higher.’ Hearing this a man from another group sitting on the top platform got up and announced ‘We are not only higher but we have beautiful names and so we will be referred to as Namebeauties.’ I sniggered for it sounded ridiculous but the ridiculousness of the name was lost on the men present. They aw-ed and wowed and someone in the crowd mentioned ‘Not only are their names beautiful, they themselves are Namebeauties. Wow! Waah! Aah!’ Soon, a man sitting on a chair got up and said ‘We sit on a chair at all times, it is our car and so we shall call ourselves Highercars’."

"What! Why are you raising your hand now?”

“I thought you spoke and understood only Malayalam, but this is all in English. Also, more disturbing is the fact that English was not spoken in this land at that time. So, this does not make sense!”

“Are you saying that I am lying?”

“No, no. That is not what I meant. I am only saying that it does not make sense.”

“You are being very literal. Get to the next plane, prisoner. Language is a tool used to communicate. It is used to express one’s thoughts effectively. Depending on the intent and need one can change the language used to communicate a thought. I don’t think you understand the intent of my narration and that is why you are objecting to the use of language. You are being too literal.”

“Hmmm! Ok! Nevermind, continue.”

“I will not explain this further. I am continuing with the narration. Another man whose upper body was covered with a cloth announced 'We always wear shirts and so we will call ourselves Shirtma.' Another said 'We have shirts but have no idea where they are and so we will call ourselves Wherema.' Yet another said 'We are gods who can't hep but chatter all the time and so we will call ourselves ChatterGs.' From a corner a man jumped up and shouted ‘We are near the top and so we will call ourselves Nears.’ Another man sitting on a chair in a group besides the Nears got up and said ‘… and we Nearcars’. Not to be outdone by other, a person sitting in a group close by announced 'We are near the top and do all the work. So we shall be referred to as Neardos”

Well, zvi continued in this manner for many hours. Naming and giving the reasons for the names. It was excruciatingly painful to sit through the whole narration, and it is worse to write it all down here. So, I will not go into the remaining details. I am sure everyone understands how the process continued. But I would like to mention one final point that the being mentioned about the process.

“As the naming process reached the groups in the lower platforms, the men sitting on the higher platforms lost interest and started talking to each other. One of them mentioned, ‘It is not like we will ever interact with those fellows. So, why should we know their names? We will simply refer to them as ‘Hey you’. Instead of listening to them, let us talk about other important matters.’ This meant that no one listened to the naming process of the groups on the lower platforms. When these groups realized that no one was listening and that their own voices were drowned in the noise created by others, they stopped the naming process. They decided to remain nameless and became voice-less.”