Escaping Social Media

I wake up. My room has almost no natural lighting; so I can’t tell if it is 4 am or noon. My hand reaches out for my cell-phone. I look at the time – it’s okay, I’ve got time – and unlock the screen. I open Facebook – 10 notifications, Instagram – 6 hearts, and WhatsApp – where about a dozen conversations wait, and think about how I am Zuckerberg’s bitch. I open Snapchat for a stream that gets boring and loud too quickly.

I go back to sleep, but I’m restless. So I get up, wash my face and brush my teeth. And before heading for a bath, I open Facebook again to check for updates. Facebook is important for me, as I use it as a marketing vehicle. So part of what I do is work; I slip into the internet’s meaningless bullshit quite easily.

When I drive to work, I open Whatsapp because I see a white light glow on my phone. When I’m at a traffic light – 128, 127, 126, 125… - I quickly open an article to read. I read it in bits and pieces, only at traffic lights. I’m done with the article, and there’s nothing new on Facebook; so I catch up on some tweets. I don’t care about Twitter. They’re going down! But I have nothing else to do.

I reach office. While discussing plans with the guy who handles Digital Marketing, I open Facebook again to prove a point. I emerge from Facebook ten minutes later, having learnt nothing new. I check messages when I’m heading to the bathroom, in the middle of lunch, and sitting in front of the TV.

* * * * * * * *

Disgusted with my behavior, my spineless servility to social media, I decided to identify the root cause of the problem. And proceed to put things right. If you, like me, find yourself in the middle of unnecessary noise and unable to pull yourself out of the mess, then your problem might be this:
You have the inability to do nothing.

Busy is good. Busy is awesome. It feels good to have a bunch of things to do; we get restless when we’re not doing anything significant. Have you walked down the road with your hands in your pockets, looking at random passersby, wondering why you’re so jobless? Have you waited at a reception, or at a train-station or airport, and felt your time was worth something more? Have you ever felt insulted by a ticking clock? Do you feel disappointed when you’re not continuously multitasking?

We have been coached to think that still moments must be done away with! And your phone is your savior, as it creates to-do lists on the go. There is always something to be read, to be listened to, to be understood, to be done… but most of these things are unnecessary. Your life won’t be significantly impacted if you do not complete these tasks. On the contrary, even if you complete all these tasks – if you read all articles, keep up to date with your friend’s daily activities, stay on top of the latest views on a trending issue, and update your online personality – you won’t be much better off.

Time-fillers have found higher purpose in our lives. Have you ever had nothing to do, felt like your falling through a giant void, only to reach out for the cell-phone, seeking meaning from social media? The internet was conceptualized as a place where we can find responses to our every possible question. It has, however, the incredible ability to provide a constant stream of stimuli. Suddenly, we are responding the Internet. The Internet, in a twisted way, is the initiator of action, the subject; we are its response, or the object of action.

* * * * * * * *

I believe the cure to this annoying condition is in accepting the slow moments of life. It’s okay if you are aware of the sound of the ticking clock. If your hands are loose, by your sides, it is okay! If there’s something at the tip of your tongue, and you don’t quite recall it, you don’t have to compulsively look it up. If you’re waiting at a traffic signal, it is okay. You don’t need your phone; there’s nothing there.

We have been brought up to believe in buzzwords like productivity, networking and visibility. It has been ingrained in minds, to the point that we now feel crippled without a computer and a phone, without a regular dose of meaningless information inflow and output. But the solution is not in quitting these networks. No, these networks have a place in our lives. But like all problems, the solution to this lies in the middle-ground.

If you’re running a startup, you might well need Facebook as a marketing vehicle, or LinkedIn as a hiring portal. But you need to use them as precisely these tools. And no external help can help you. You need to believe that nothing significant can happen in the ten-twelve hours you choose to stay off social media. No one can say anything remarkable in your echo-chamber of views. Otherwise, the very tools you use to feel more productive will add you to an ever-growing list of insecure, unproductive creatures.

Remember this. You won’t cease to exist when you log off.

Kabali, The Last Superstar

I haven't watched the movie yet, but a helpful family member - my mama's cousin's daughter-in-law's nephew - sent us a full movie download link on Whatsapp. It works, I checked; but I didn't download the movie, as I've sworn allegiance to Thalaivar and Tamil Cinema.

When Rajini Became Superstar

I wasn't always like this. Like many of my TamBrahm friends, I looked back at the days of Mannan, Thalapathy and Annamalai (or his funnier side in Thillu Mullu), and thought of them as Rajini's glory-years, before he sold out to his Superstar avatar. Although he always lived in the shadow of Kamal Hassan in our minds, that's the closest he had come to being the real king of cinema.
"Amma Enrarazhaikaatha..." from the film Mannan

When Padayappa killed it in the Box Office in '99, Rajini quickly shifted gears and became the South India's biggest and only real superstar. In the next few years, he released Chandramukhi (Bhool Bhulaiya, in Hindi), Sivaji - The Boss, Enthiran... each opening in more theatres globally than its predecessors. Packed with elaborate unbelievable plot-lines and trademark Rajini punch-dialogues (delivered like only Rajini can deliver), and riding on his highly affable personality, Tamil cinema thrust itself on the national stage.

North India watched, not in awe, but clutching its belly in laughter: Rajini stopped bullets, Rajini conquered Mars, Rajini could change the laws of Physics. I remember distinctly how it irritated me when people laughed at Rajinikanth - someone they had never watched in theatres, because of SMS forwards which were not even true. For the first time in my life, I defended this man - not because I admired his acting, but because it threatened my identity. Suddenly, Rajinikanth was part of who I was.

I watched Enthiran alone in the theatre...

The inaccessibility of Tamil cinema outside Tamil Nadu and major metropolitan cities creates a barrier for even the most ardent fans. For a travelling, English-speaking, semi-fan like me, who finds it easier to name Hollywood films than films in Hindi or Tamil, it is almost impossible to follow Kollywood.

Given Rajini's stature, he was one of the few (probably the only) actors whose films were screened in smaller Indian cities up North, at least dubbed in Hindi. During my college days, news about Rajini films became my only connection to Tamil Nadu, to Chennai and my childhood. I made it a point to watch his films, and say nice things about it.

Saying good things about Rajini felt like patting yourself on the back, happy that you'd enjoyed what your childhood friends had enjoyed, wherever they were in the world. You could enter Sathyam cinemas, knowing nothing could go wrong in the next two hours. After all, they did a paal abhishekam outside to ward off evil spirits.

And so I went to watch Enthiran, long after everybody else had, alone, with a Rs. 120 ticket in Sathyam. I've never gone to a theatre alone since, but that day I had an incredible shared-experience with strangers I couldn't see in the cinema hall. *wolf whistles*
The Rajini Effect

While the great Indian emigration, specifically the emigration of Tamils, started a long time ago, it received that massive push in 1991, that changed things as we know. The kind of push that ensures you and your friends will find yourself outside Chennai, probably outside Tamil Nadu, and possibly outside India, a few years after school.

This, however, also ensured that all of us carry a bit of home, and therefore a bit of Rajini, to every corner of the globe. And suddenly, people in Europe, Japan and Houston were mouthing the words - "Naan oru tharava sonna, nooru tharam sonna madhiri".

My friend's startup, that designs T-Shirts, came up with designs like this one, that I purchased:




Some things happen once, and only once, and never happen again. Rajinikanth is our last superstar. Rajinikanth - the phenomenon - will end, and there will never be a Rajini again. When will there be another time, when such mass-migration will take niche pop-culture to every corner of the globe?

The reason we all feel connected by Rajini, and can share the Rajini-experience wherever we are, is because we started in an age that wasn't as connected, and grew into the information age carrying our mini-cultures with us. There will never be another Rajini, because the beginning of the Information Age has ended, and we've lived through it already. There will never be another Rajini because our idea of home has forever changed. There will never be another Rajini because we cannot imagine another age where we can share a veg puff at a shady roadside teashop, trying to wear a pair of round -3.50D spectacles Rajini-style.

Rajinikanth, who I never admired in my childhood, is now a part of me. I have the option to watch the full Kabali movie right now, by clicking on a link on Whatsapp. But I won't. Because Kabali is more than a movie, Rajinikanth is more than an actor.

Rajini is an experience. Rajini is a phenomenon. He gives us a collective-identity. It doesn't matter where you are in the world, Rajinikanth will guide you home.

On Failure

1. The sheet that covers her face, clenched tightly between her teeth, growing moist around her mouth, is insufficient defence. She twists on the hard mattress, conscious of another morning that attacks her through the gap in the curtain. Another bloody day. Determined to return to sleep, she perceives her own condition from the bedroom door - such drama, such comedy, it is almost unreal. There is nothing left to live for. What's the point anyway?

2. He goes back to the cigarette every time the task is too big. He has been falling off the pace for a few months now. It is incredible how a few bad months can completely derail your life. Money, love and ambition have all dried up; as he stubs the flaming stub under his dusty chappal, he realizes health will soon follow suit. What's the point anyway?

3. You got fired. So what? She left you for another man. So what? Your dreams are crashing and burning in a blinding flame that lights up your wonderful past. So what? You deserted your parents, and now they're dead. How did it all come to this? There is either pain, or nothing. You want neither. Is happiness so difficult to find? Okay, cut that crap about not having to seek happiness. Of course you must seek happiness. Or perish in the attempt. What's the point of life anyway?

4. You cannot lose everything that matters unless you let something matter. You look at your friends, leading their sedentary lives, "hedging risks", existing but never living. Nothing matters. They eat, they breathe, they sleep, they find someone who will share their bed for sixty years, they get themselves a career, they eat, they breathe, they sleep, they defecate... They'll probably never feel like killing themselves. But they'll never feel like Alexander. Go big or go home. Only, "go home" is a lie. You don't go home. You nearly die.

5. You know those flirts? Who don't truly follow their hearts. Because they're cowards. And dabble with millions of ideas, people and events. They'll never make up their minds. Making up their minds would kill them. You know why? Because they'd be All In. Most humans cannot go All In. They're scared. They'd much rather live their lukewarm romances.

6. When you invest blood, sweat and tears in a person, in a book, in a company, in an idea... you do it with expectations. Sri Krishna talks about outcome-independence. Don't bother about the fruits of your actions; your actions are both the means and the end. But who is so great that he/she truly believes this? And if someone truly believes in outcome-independence, doesn't that spell the end of passion? There is no way to reconcile passion and wisdom. No, you cannot have the whole fucking lot.

7. You know it is reasonable to settle into a rhythm, right? Why work outside your comfort-zone? What's that again - "Life starts outside the comfort zone"? Yeah, no it doesn't. Life starts when you emerge from the womb, covered in a film of sticky fluid and wail into the world. Life ends when you can wail no more. Everything in between is life. So you lost. Everybody loses. There is no point analysing this.

8. Where do we go now? Where do we go? Isn't it too late to salvage something? It probably is. Then again, life is weird. There are no beginnings, no middles, no ends. It's just a mess. A hopeless tangle of events, thoughts, emotions, places, people... None of it is supposed to make sense. Not from up close, anyway. Maybe from a distance. From far, far away, everything makes sense. You're living a goddamned epic!

9. And she does it over and over again. She calls me to tell me how she suffers only because of her goodness. Yes doll, you suffer only because of you're good. And successful people are successful only because they have rotten hearts. Get over yourself. If you're good, you wouldn't use it as defence! Goodness needs no incentive. Be good because you want to be good; nobody is asking you to be anything. People are shit? Well, of course they are! If everybody was good, we wouldn't give a damn about you. You angel.

10. "God is a dick!" Well, you believe in God; you haven't been broken enough. Be thankful. And shut up. You know the sequence: believer becomes agnostic, agnostic turns atheist, atheist converts into a bitter cynic, and the bitter cynic suffers real physical pain. Then everybody dies, of course. You know what? You are so conscious about your failure only because you think you can experience the state of not-failing. That's called hope. And hope is a good thing.

Sledgehammer

Sledgehammer (n): a large, heavy hammer used for such jobs as breaking rocks and driving in fence posts

Have you swung the hammer? Have you felt that electric surge, as the iron crushes everything in its path? More importantly, have you been struck by the hammer? Have you had a sledgehammer-moment in life?

WHAT IS A SLEDGEHAMMER MOMENT?

A vial of concentrated change. One day that changes more than entire months. The destroyer of Inertia. Moments you will never forget. In fact, you will describe your life in terms of 10-15 sledgehammer moments.

A sledgehammer moment can be planned, or completely unforeseen.

Unedited Notes #1: Conscience (29.1.2016)

Promise me you won't laugh. Don't pity me either. I don't want your ridicule or sympathy. This is a public diary entry, mostly because I don't maintain a diary. I also write this here, I admit, because I want this to turn up when people search for Unhappiness, Depression and First World Gloom.

We all view life as a long, uncertain story, that progresses through time. Something like a YouTube video - only here, you can't skip forward. The only difference between life and the YouTube video is this: in life, you are inside the video.

So you are being conditioned by the story until now, which in turn influences how you perceive future occurrences. From an engineering perspective, perception is a function of time. And this perception usually shapes your future actions, which in turn changes your story and thereby your future perception of reality.

It's fucked up. You exercise even lesser control over your existence than you think you do. And what you can control most, and what you feel most helpless about, is this: how you perceive things. Because you're going to see many crappy things.

In fact, humans always reach a stage (in the twenties, or if you're having a really crappy life, in teenage) when they think anything that isn't horrible is actually nice. If a door is held open, or if someone tells you that you dropped your boarding-pass, or if a random stranger smiles at you, or if a car stops to let you cross the road. Human beings have the amazing ability to lower their expectations until normalcy seems like heaven. That, of course, is the trick to stay happy.

But if you're like me, you won't do that. I shan't lower my bar just because I've seen my share of idiots. I live in the hope that people will, one day, stop being so hopelessly irresponsible. I put my faith in that Justice Clock, high up in the sky, beyond my range of vision.

In a strange way, I'm fighting what the world is telling me: "Hey, I'm really shitty! No, seriously dude. There's no redemption here. I will stay this bad, for ever and ever and ever... Ha ha ha." And like an idiot, I say to the world, "No, no. You're good. You just don't know it yet."

I do this because I think the individual can prevail only by holding on to certain beliefs. I actually think that there is some intrinsic virtue in existence. Let me ask you something: do you think conscience is a universal construct?

There are certain things I would never do, because I think they're shitty. For example, I'd never want to murder someone, or physically hurt them, or extort them, or betray their faith. When such things happen to me, I rationalize them. Rationalization is the easiest route to forgiveness.

But should there be forgiveness if there is no remorse? I mean - if someone tries to kill you, fails and then walks away, but never expresses remorse, is it reasonable to forgive that person? And does this forgiveness mean you've lowered the bar? Have you stopped expecting people to be better than they are?

Leicester City's Title, A Lesson In Entrepreneurship

"Everybody knows Leicester is a Champion!"


Leicester City are champions of the Barclays Premier League, the most watched competition on the planet. And they've got by with a little help from their friends.

What makes this win magical, if not unique, is the tremendous 5000:1 odds that Leicester City faced. What makes this win unforgettable is that fact that Leicester City F.C. is much like a bootstrapped startup that went on to become a unicorn.

Ranieri - Never Give Up, Even At 64

For all those 30 under 30s, 40 under 40s, and impatient people expecting instant-gratification, there's a wise old fellow, who - at 64 - defied the common narrative: NO, AMBITION DOES NOT DIE WITH AGE. CREATIVITY DOESN'T DIE WITH AGE. GUTS DON'T DISAPPEAR WHEN YOU'RE FIFTY.

Those who watched Ranieri lift Chelsea into the Champions league, and then disappear into the European wilderness, to the point when he was kicked out of his job managing Greece, will understand the magnitude of his achievement. Perhaps he was lucky. But he worked hard for decades, manufacturing this luck.
Bootstrap, bootstrap, bootstrap.




You can buy ~25% of Cristiano Ronaldo with this amount


Leicester is functional. Lots of meat, little gravy. No fancy names, nothing flashy; just great work-ethic. Amazing strategy, and deadly execution.

This is what great teams are made of. Get help from family, friends... a little bit of jugaad. And then work with what you have. So what if you don't have an Oil-baron or a Sheikh funding you? If you have a vision, and a strategy to get there, you will find a way. With or without money. And you will learn a lot more with limited resources.

A team for a strategy. A strategy for a team.

Now that Leicester are champions, and Uber is a unicorn, there are case-studies to tell us how they got there. You can pay $200,000 to learn about these success stories if you want. And then you can do an Uber for X or a Leicester for Y. Or you can take your chances, and be your own Leicester City.

But case-studies teach you a thing or two, with the benefit of hindsight. Look at this infographic, for example:




Call it genius or call it dumb-luck, but Leicester knew themselves well and created tactics to maximise their strengths and cover their weaknesses. If you have a rockstar-developer, focus on creating a world-class product, but if you have a killer sales-force, your focus oughtn't be on the product as much as on an on-ground strategy to build your business.

There is no strategy that fits all; there is no team that fits all. But there is a strategy-team combo that will see you through to the finish. Find that combo.
Believe, always.

Believe in what you're doing. There is no place for doubt.

You can get there only if you've no doubt you can. Yes, you can tell the media and your friends another story. But when you're alone in your room, sitting on your bed, thinking about your startup, you cannot doubt it. There is a way forward, and nothing else.

If all else fails, find yourself a God: a religious deity, a preacher, silence, Elon Musk, or Science. Or get yourself some Thai Monks to help you out.




These are lessons in Sports and Entrepreneurship, and we - at Khelfie - cannot wait to put these into practice!

#Fearless #LCFC

The Idea-Person-Thing

“The three grand essentials of happiness are: Something to do, someone to love, and something to hope for.

— Alexander Chalmers

In my attempt to distill happiness into its purest form, I thrust all three of these pursuits into a single idea-person-thing combination. That idea-person-thing becomes my all. I wake up to it, I breathe it, I eat it, I sleep with it.




It is always with me. It possesses me, and takes over everything else. I cannot give up until I win. And I cannot win unless I keep wrestling. There are a million things that badger me, that try to pry my attention away from this absolute purpose of existence. Even if my eyes leave it for a moment, I must return to it. I have been wired that way. I am obsessive, and I don't give up.

It is difficult to explain the past few months, that have flown by in breathtaking pace. I wake up, think about new ways to realize the idea-person-thing, feel let down by a lot of things that happen, pick myself up because I know I can't win unless I keep wrestling, win small victories that fuel me for weeks, and keep working until I'm too tired to work.

You cannot be unimaginably happy unless you go all in.

Notes of a Sentimental Lover

Every path you traced on her surface, every little nook which you think you alone hold secret, each of those scents that have delighted you every time you were alone with her on those evening-streets… you vividly recall the tastes, and words whispered a long time ago, and her familiar touch…





I was at the Main Gate at 3 am last morning, zooming into the campus in a sedan, instead of strolling past the guards with a bunch of friends - some drunk, others sleepy, some trying to hide the red glow of the midnight cigarette lit at Bus-T by cupping it in their palms…

As the car sped past Ravindra Bhawan, I watched the campus being readied for Cognizance – flexes, posters, tents, and the general hustle-bustle near the UG Club. I was instantly transported to the same space four or five years ago: the flexes were the same; they once said ‘Technovating India’, now ‘Aim BIT’.

I fell asleep in KIH, refusing to suffer repeated bouts of déjà vu and nostalgia at such an unearthly hour. “No,” I said to myself, “I will suffer this tomorrow.” The internet was still as hopeless as it used to be. Roorkee remains stubbornly untouched by both progress and decadence of outside-civilization.

When I woke up this morning, I made myself a cup of Elaichi Tea in the Khosla International House and sent a photograph of the lawns to my friends on Whatsapp, titled “Guess where”. I have spent most of today in a trance, often unable to believe I am on campus again. Maybe I am not; I no longer have any reason to walk towards Cautley or Ganga, I didn’t stare at Sarojini with the same wonder, Alpahar is now extinct, and there is a massive Multi-Activity Center that houses a CCD and a Souvenir Shop!

To take my mind off this distortion of space-time, I decided to have lunch at the mess. After a good hearty meal, I knew that I would be able to tell the difference between 2010 and 2016. I served myself food – stiff, parched rotis, long dry grains of rice, bland yellow dal suitably warmed, brownish aloo-gobi glazed with a layer of oil and dahi that turned watery when poured into a steel cup – and sat on a hard, wooden chair. Halfway into my meal, as I recalled the sour taste of Roorkee’s thin dahi, I was struck by the oddness of the room, which was both colonial and sarkari at once. I dashed out of the mess.

Near the Civil Department, a young couple crossed me; the guy was wearing an old pair of bluish jeans and older slippers, and the girl was in a loose t-shirt that she had probably pulled out from the bottom of the shelf. Her strong jasmine perfume mingled with the Roorkee air. I turned left near the Electrical Department, and walked past the JEE Office, towards the Main Building. The steps surrounding the Main Building are among my favourite places on campus, simply because they offer comfort in their plainness. My path today, as it usually was during my four years on campus, was empty. I was alone with this delightful place.

I felt my skin form tiny undulations in response to the chill March breeze. The giant trees rustled gently, and the air dripped with the sugary sweat of red springtime flowers. It is a scent you can associate with love or heartbreak, with pain or victory, with peace or excitement; each of us has a distinct personal memory of this smell, and it is a smell we shall never forget.




I clicked this photograph as I passed the Main Building, thinking about a past that didn’t have so much Instagram or Whatsapp or Facebook. I thought of all those people who have walked with me down those roads – friends whose cycles I rode, friends who got drunk and flirted with the girls’ hostel, friends who climbed the water tank because they had nothing better to do or because the stuff from the mountains was actually that good, friends whose hands I held thinking I was in love, friends who walked with me to Solani or to the dosa-guy near the bridge or to Baadshah, friends who helped me meet tough self-made deadlines, friends who added me to their list of proxies, friends who changed everything forever – and decided that I was better off not thinking about them. I would either laugh like a madman, or I would cry.

I am grateful that Roorkee, in my perception, is frozen in space and time. It is this magical place 170km from Delhi which can never change. You can go back whenever you want to see that young guy or girl stroll through the streets with childish arrogance, with earphones blaring the raw lyrics of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, with little to do other than drink coffee, eat Maggi, and watch a TV Series all day long… You can go back whenever you want to see yourself as artwork on a flex at Kranti Chowk.

Entrepreneurship #3: Cofounder Dating (1)

As an entrepreneur, most knowledge comes in the form of trickle-down knowledge: blogs, entrepreneurship websites, rich and famous entrepreneurs, and folks who are perceived to have earned the right to voice an opinion.




Almost everyone will tell you about the importance of a core-team - most importantly, of a cofounder. A cofounder is probably the most significant relationship one develops outside of blood-ties and sex, or so they tell you. There is, obviously, no way to validate this when one first starts-up. I always thought I'd find out when I got there.

Why do you need cofounders?

While businesses with single founders have gone on to become smashing hits (e.g. Dell, Tumblr, Alibaba...), these are the outliers, the anomalies of the business world. Two heads are better than one for a variety of reasons: creativity, people-management, devolution of responsibility... But the most important role of a co-founder is support.

The media is full of success stories and unicorns, and one or two stories of past failures of successful entrepreneurs; the reality is quite the opposite. Failure is an everyday commodity, while success is a rare, incredibly satisfying, life-changing event. In an unstructured business, your life can change in a second, and therefore you live in hope.

In this brutal world, it is lonely at the top. I have seen CXOs give clear instructions to their employees while being terribly confused themselves. No money to pay rent next month, but you recruit a new developer. You count on a deal that may go through, and relocate the entire team.

Responsibility takes a heavy toll on the mind. Decisions that go wrong must be quickly forgiven, and viewed only as lessons. When there is no one else to turn to, these become incredibly difficult.

You'll be surprised to know how many founders go into depression.

Commitment is everything

A romance can go through frequent break-ups and make-ups, and actions that break trust in the moment, and still end "happily ever after". A private limited company is far more fragile.

While people talk of complimentary skill-sets and understanding, the most important factor remains trust. "Will he or she stand by the commitment, when things aren't too nice? (And believe me, they won't be nice for a long time.)" Promises are easy to make and easier to break. Such commitment, usually coming at a high opportunity-cost, requires tremendous motivation. At the end of the day, it is beautiful to witness an idea gain shape, momentum and eventually, glory.

While I have always believed the "startup scene" is overhyped, I now concede this: entrepreneurs are among the most energetic, motivated and committed people I have come across. And that, perhaps, is the only reason why a group of individuals, with vastly different methods and goals, sticks together, and then maybe, one day, builds a Unicorn.

Three Levels of Perception: How to become a Zen-master?

Do you remember how we first read books? Those hard-bound things of wonder, with fair, blonde princesses and square-chested knights who would slay dragons and breathe life into the damsel with a kiss… Do you remember Amar Chitra Katha, and the legends of kings and demigods? And then Enid Blyton and her Pixie folks, and later still, Harry Potter, Frodo Baggins, Hercule Poirot…

LEVEL ONE

I don’t know about you, but I read them the same way a devout would read the Bible or the Quran: as gospel. It was written; therefore, it had to be true. This is the first level of perception. When confronted with an experience, we begin by reacting to it, with the body, mind or some combination of the two.

In the first level, the experience itself is flawless. The book is comprehensive, the movie is complete, and the person you talk to is perfect. At this level, we are easily influenced by the permanence and immutability of the stimulus. When our parents said something to us, it had to be correct; it had to be good advice. When a history textbook said that Shivaji was good and Aurangzeb was bad, that had to be correct as well.

LEVEL TWO

Beyond this basic understanding of the world, we begin to question the experience itself. Maybe the book was flawed, or the movie had terrible plot-holes… Perhaps, the person giving us advice is as confused as us.

At this level of understanding, we begin punching holes into theories, books, people and everything that isn’t the Self. We realize that textbooks are flawed because of their own skewed viewpoints, we understand that people have their own vested interests, and that movie-scripts are often written by idiots. At this level, we begin trusting our own previous experiences and the cumulative derived wisdom from those.

We pitch our opinions against those of another. “I think that the eagle could have flown to Mordor and dropped the ring into the fires of Mount Doom”. “I think that Genesis is a bad idea, because I believe in the Big Bang, in evolution, and in scientifically proven concepts”. “I think what you did was really shitty”. Our teenage and early twenties are often about this level of understanding.

LEVEL THREE

After we have spent enough energy fighting with the world, we wonder why we perceive the world in a particular way. What are these lenses through which we observe the world? How do we build our own personal rules?

With a third-person-insight into the prevailing conditions of the mind, we dissect not only why we act the way we act, but also why others act the way they do. In books, movies and works of art, we understand why we perceive a plot-hole where others (including the writer) possibly do not.

It is at this level that I think we are truly incapable of intense hatred or passion. If it can be explained, one can do away with a primal emotional reaction. We begin to see the code that governs this dysfunctional world, and keeps it stuck together in this precarious way.

At this stage, we are far less susceptible to intense life-changing moments. But we become Zen-masters, who can control the flow of water and the motion of the Moon. At this point of balance and peace, the will has a real shot at controlling our own actions.

Note: These levels of understanding are infinite: each subsequent level offers a unique, defining insight into the machinations of the world.