Fragility

Laurie Jupiter: (trying to convince her super-hero ex-lover to save humanity from a nuclear holocaust) You have to stop this. Everyone will die.

Dr. Manhattan: And the universe will not even notice.

— Watchmen (2009)

Earth-quakes & Human Reaction

In continuation of yesterday's theme, here's Seth Godin pithy take on what our reaction to earth-shaking events says about us:

1. The first thing that happens after we encounter an earthquake is to wonder if anyone else felt it. The need for group validation is widespread and happens for events that don't involve earthquakes as well.

If those in the tribe feel something, we're likely to as well. That's why people look around before they stand up to offer an ovation at the end of a concert. Why should it matter if any of these strangers felt the way you did about the event? Because it does. A lot. Social proof matters.

2. Organizations are busy evacuating buildings, even national monuments. Even though experience indicates that the most dangerous thing you can do is have tens of thousands of people run down the stairs, cram into the elevators and stand in the streets, we do it anyway. Why? Because people like to do something. Action, even ineffective action, is something societies seek out during times of uncertainty.

Is it just me or is this actually a good description for what's happening in India right now?

Dirty Window

Released in 2003, Metallica's St. Anger was their biggest commercial failure in years. The sounds were intense. It creates an intense mood and there's no escaping it through the length of the album.

Yet, there are parts of it that I keep going back to. Like Hammet's brilliant solo in Invisible Kid around 0:44. Or All Within My Hands, where Hetfield's vocals waver between steady purposefulness and demonic full-throatedness.

I was listening to Dirty Window today and, for the first time, the lyrics made sense to me.

I see my reflection in the window
This window clean inside, dirty on the out
I'm looking different than me
This house is clean babe!
This house is clean

Am I who I think I am?
Am I who I think I am?
Oh, Am I who I think I am?
I look out my window and see it's gone wrong
My court is in session and now I slam my gavel down!

I'm judge and I'm jury and I'm executioner too
I'm judge and I'm jury and I'm executioner too

Projector, Protector, Rejector, Infector
Projector, Rejector, Infector
Injector, Defector, Rejector

I drink from the cup of denial
I'm judging the world from my throne
I drink from the cup of denial
I'm judging the world from my throne

It fits well with the political mood in India at the moment. Maybe this was the song's intended context. Some of us are protesting on the streets against the crippling corruption thrust upon us by the state. But we have given little thought to our personal deviations.

We seek instant solutions, not the nuances of our constitution. And we have little patience for moderate views on the subject of corruption. This is an extraordinary time for India where sides are been chosen like never before.

My own over-the-top response to this impatience — especially on Team Anna's part — was this image.



Let me explain my stand with a simple metaphor.

When people get sick, they go to a doctor. They get treatment but also seek precautionary advice about diet, hygiene, exercise, etc to avoid falling sick again.

The philosophy of the JLP Bill is that if one is sick (read: corrupt), seek treatment but forget about the precautions.

This way, corruption may be spotted, but its root causes will remain. Ultimately, the JLP will align with India's massive bureaucracy and make corruption worse. I hope this doesn't happen in my lifetime. I don't want to be around to say I told you so.

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara — A Statistical Review

Probability of the first girl you hit on having travelled half-way through the world being Indian: 100%

Probability of the first girl you hit on having travelled half-way through the world being Indian and coincidentally also your deep sea diving instructor: 100%

Number of days typically needed to learn deep sea diving: 4-6

Number of days Imraan, Kabir and Arjun needed to learn it: 1

Number of dares in their childhood pact that Imraan, Arjun and Kabir could have completed in India and saved themselves a lot of money: 3

Career tally of Hrithik's horribly awkward on-screen kisses: 2

Number of explanations offered for how Arjun got a replacement simcard in a foreign country: 0

Number of expressions enacted by Katrina in the whole film: 1

Rahul Tomar, whoever you are, you are the son of a thousand fathers

I have an Airtel number. For the past 15 months or so, I’ve been getting calls from Airtel asking me if they could talk to Rahul Tomar.

My name, as you can see, is not Rahul Tomar. I don’t know anyone called Rahul Tomar. I know plenty of Rahuls. But I’ve never known a Tomar. The only Tomar I know is Paan Singh Tomar.

So each time they’d call, I assured them I knew no such person. And each time, I’d be assured that I won’t be called again. But every few weeks or so, they would call back.

When this started happening frequently, I decided to ask them about this Rahul person. I was told he had used my number as his alternate number. Who he is and why he did it is a mystery to me.

I asked Airtel if they could share Rahul’s number with me. They did. The number was similar to mine. I’m guessing he mentioned a made-up number on his sign-up form. Unluckily, it was mine.

I called his number. It was out of service. I Googled for his name and number. No luck there.

After some point, I got upset at Airtel’s frequent calls. It bordered on harassment. I could recognise their numbers on the caller ID now. So I began ignoring them. If I’d accidentally taken a call, I disconnected the moment the operator uttered “Can I speak to Mr. Rahul…”

Now, the frequency of their calls shot up: from once in a few weeks, to several times a week. It drove me mad. Also, I rarely had the time to step out of my office or home and bark furiously at these operators who’d decided not to believe my side of the story. So I kept ignoring the calls.

One day, I decided to be calm and talk with them. The operator, who might have become familiar with my disconnecting habits, sounded like he couldn’t believe I had taken the call.

Calmly, I explained the whole situation to him. Again. He told me I would not be bothered. Again. It felt like it was the end of the problem. But I had my doubts.

Some days later, I get another call. “Can I speak to Mr Rahul Tomar?” I sighed. And disconnected. They called back immediately. I disconnected again.

Today, I got yet another call. I was in office. It was a Sunday. The office was practically empty. I could bark at the operator without disturbing anyone. So I barked.

Right before both of us turned abusive and I hung up, the operator mentioned an outstanding bill of 16,000 bucks.

So this is what I know of Rahul Tomar: his telephone number was 9810483361, he misused my telephone number, he owes 16,000 rupees to a phone compnay, he’s a thief, and he’s on the run. Also, he’s the son of a thousand fathers. But that is conjecture.

I called Airtel today. I lodged my complaint. Again. I was assured I won’t be bothered again. Again.

Let’s see how long this peace lasts.