Dealing with Change

There are times when I need it, times when I want it, times when I hate it and then there are others when I just cannot make up my mind. A few days back I found myself dealing with two events at the same time, each of which promises significant change, but in one case I'd planned it and in the other I had to well..let's just say... just deal with it. That's when I thought... hey, why not bug you folks with this?

Now you could plan it out, write it down & measure it or it could be completely unexpected or it could be something in between, but in either case I often look at Change as an event, a noun which occurs at discrete points in time. And almost every time I do, it's never fun. Either I'm extremely upset about it(like when there's no oregano topping with my Pizza) or even if I'd planned it, it's never mind-blowingly awesome, coz well... it was planned!

With these thoughts in mind, as I sat typing & waiting for my favorite breakfast (steaming aloo parathas), I looked over my shoulder to see that the folks at the counter were furiously packing some parathas in silver foil and I was thinking 'how much longer?'. Exactly then,  I'm served with my breakfast, just that, it wasn't what i'd ordered. Turns out my parathas are now on their way to Indiranagar & I've been served with a bowl of steaming poha! Lemme describe it.

A western Indian dish made from soaked flattened rice, potatoes & diced onions, lightly spiced with salt n chilly, garnished with coriander, groundnuts and sev and sprinkled with a dash of lemon for that extra zing, it is lighter than air and legend has it that its aroma can melt the hearts of the strongest of Maratha warriors. When I taste it, I feel safe, I feel that all is well with the world and I'm reminded of all things noble and kind and beautiful. I'm no match to it's powers.

I know I started writing about Change. Maybe my next post should be about 'Focus'.

A surprising affirmation!

In my last post, I wrote about how it's all about the stories we tell ourselves. Found this TED video in which Shekhar Kapur voices similar feelings, albeit in ways far more interesting and striking. Especially loved the bit where he explains the significance of the architecture and why the camera's looking down at the actor in a particular scene. Gave me goosebumps when I realized the effect these things have! WOW!

Another bit I liked was about how he consciously puts himself in a state of panic and chaos to find the few moments of 'truth' (as he calls it) which matter. Besides the obvious feeling of 'do u really have to lose it to be creative?', I realized how many times it's happened to me. Its 01.30 AM, I'm sitting at my computer, trying to finish a paper I must submit in a couple of hours. I finish a couple of sections, revise them, they still look funny somehow. I google around to find ways to say it better. When I look at the time, an hour has passed! Finally, clarity promptly shows up minutes before the deadline, immaculately dressed and with solutions to all my problems, and I say 'Bless you Jeeves, come on in!' Somehow, panic works, everytime!

And after I'm done with the submission, the only moment I remember is the one where clarity dawned on me, when everything seemed to make sense. Praaaabably that was my moment of 'truth'!

Storyteller

It was New Year's eve and I was on the phone, talking to my friend when she mentioned that she wanted to do something special for her parents that day. Something personal, not just picking something up from a store, which would make them feel good. When I asked her if she had anything specific on her mind, she said wanted to bake a cake, her first one ever! I was a bit taken aback by that idea and recovered by mildly reprimanding her.

"Baking a cake is not child's play! Did she know how tough it was? She would in all probability mess it up since it was her first time. Did she wanna mess up stuff for her parents on New Year's eve?", I asked her.

It was too big a risk I felt. But as usual, she just laughed it off & said it wasn't that big a deal, she felt pretty confident about it and she would do it anyway. I just rolled my eyes, but as soon as I hung up, I had this uncontrollable urge to bake one myself! I dug up a book with the recipe, went out & bought the ingredients and two hours later, voila! The cake was ready! So much for taking a stand against baking it earlier.

This got me thinking about what it was that made me do this. What made me to do it? Why did I have so much fun while doing it? The answer I came up with was that I did it because it made for a great story! When I had hung up the phone, my mind had thought, "What a fun story it would be, if I could tell my friends I baked a cake, all by myself, just like that, for no reason at all!" And that had got me going.

I've always believed that people tend to think of themselves as stories. When you interact with someone, you're playing a role in her story. And whatever you do, or whatever she does, or whatever you want her to do, needs to fit into that story in some satisfying way. 

When you want something from someone, ask yourself what story that person is trying to tell about himself, and then make sure that your role and actions are enhancing that story and in the right way ;)

So when I think about it, I realize I have a story about myself too. I want to think about myself as a guy who does stuff thats not expected of him at all. And I love to tell others about it!

The 'not expected of me' shows up in many different ways. For example if I'm paid to do 9 jobs, and the 10th job is not expected of me, I'd rather do the 10th one rather than the first 9. Needless to say, this gets me into a lot of trouble regularly. But doing the 10th job makes me feel that I overdelivered (inspite of the fact that I underdelivered coz I didnt do the 9 I was expected to do), that I exceeded expectations, that I'm different, and that fits into my story.

And I feel this is true not just for me, but for a lot of other people too. But if you think about it, it's quite contradictory to the way our system works. You would normally think that the more you pay someone to do their jobs, the more motivated they would be, but on the other hand it seems like we would rather do something for no money at all & be more motivated about it, if only it fit into our story and enhanced it. Amazing isn't it?

It's all about which story you want to tell!

19/12/09

Graduation Day!

I'd decided I needn't blog about this day since I would never be able to forget it, but realized a few days back that I was wrong. I'd received the official Commencement pics from the university by mail and while I sat looking at them, I found I had already forgotten many lil moments. So here is what I remember, lest I forget.

We (Kavi & I) woke up early in the morn & whilst Kavi made dosas for BF(correct me Kavi if I'm wrong here), I quickly got dressed & ready. Butterflies & dosas in the stomach is a well.... interesting combination, I realized. I was wearing a blazer for the first time in my life for what was in my head, the biggest day in my life, and when Kavi asked me to wear his new Invicta wrist-watch, it didn't exactly help the combi in the tummy (explained above). This was one of those moments which had convinced me I wouldn't forget this day.

Kavi'd already booked the train tickets and we caught the train to Champaign which took nearly forever to get there. A long train ride invariably throws up at least one interesting & difficult conversation, and this was no exception to the rule. At the end of it though, I was convinced I had spoken longer than required and had been successful in confusing him thoroughly although my intentions were to do just the opposite(speak lesser, listen more & not confuse him). Pardon me my generous host.

When we did eventually reach Champaign, it was snowing and very very COLD! We were also running about 45 minutes behind schedule, so we quickly hired a cab & reached Krannert Hall, a huge, imposing structure & the venue for the ceremony. We were greeted by a huge crowd assembled around a balcony cheering and applauding someone downstairs. When we peeked down, we found a steady stream of students, dressed in rich blue and orange gowns and hats, diplomas in hand, emerging from the auditorium, smiling and waving to the cheers from upstairs. Wow! This was it, and I was here!

I asked around to find out that the College of Arts had just finished its commencement and the College of Engineering would be next. I then got my graduation gown and regalia from the stall and went downstairs. We set about trying to figure out how to wear the gown, hood, tassel and hat properly and Kavi turned out to be quite the ace here. In fact, once I was done, he was helping out other students with their gowns n hoods too! And after he returned to the auditorium, I found my name card on the wall(Phds followed by Masters and then the undergrads) and began the seemingly never-ending wait in the queue for the ceremony to begin. Here I found one of my batchmates, Scott and had a nice lil chat until we were summoned. And then began our procession towards the auditorium This was the moment!

We entered the audi to a standing ovation from the audience with a band playing the welcome note for the procession, and boy did it feel great! Mellow yellow lighting, the applause, Kavi waving from the crowd, the HUUUGE audi and the band on the stage with immaculately polished brass instruments, it seemed like straight out from a James Cameron period classic. Surreal. We settled down and found the commencement brochure which had the name of every student graduating today, and I quickly flipped through it to find my name and re-assured myself of my place here. After the customary speeches, the Head of each Dept welcomed their students on the stage one-by-one and they received their diplomas from the dean as their name and the degree was being announced. There were a thousand thoughts flitting through my mind. "What if I trip & fall on the stage?", "What if my hands are too sweaty when I shake hands with the Dean?", "Do I look at the Dean while receiving my diploma or at the camera?", "Where's Kavi?", "I think I'm feeling  a bit hungry, I'm glad we had that burger on the train" etc etc.....

But when my turn did come, I was surprisingly calm (and blank) and didn't even hear how my name was called out(Kavi later said the Reader was struggling with my surname, chuckle!). Once all the students were done, the Dean pronounced us as Graduated and asked us to move the tassel from the right to the left on the hat.

I guess you might say I'd done a good job till now and played my part well, but this is when it just got too much to handle, and I finally broke down with tears streaming down as I moved the tassel and I was sniffing around for some time after that. So much for playing cool till now. Ah well!

After the ceremony, we left the hall in a procession again and were greeted by the same scene I mentioned earlier when I first entered the hall. Only this time, I was in the procession! And now, Kavi decided that it was appropriate to get lost in the crowd (he must've said the same about me), and it took me all of 15 mins to find him again. And then after all the official and unofficial photo sessions, I finally parted ways with the gown n hat and returned, albeit unwillingly, to my normal, routine life. Sigh! But I did get the tassel as a souvenir, so.. Yay!!

And after a sumptuous meal at... err.... Pizza Hut (I'm sure to get beaten up for celebrating this day in Pizza Hut) and some shopping at the campus, we took the bus to Chicago at night.

I know it was an amazing day and I might never experience this kinda joy again, but at the end of it all, if I look back at the past 2 years, I realize that what made it so memorable and why it meant so much to me, they were the days which were probably the most frustrating, when I would be scared, days on which nothing would go right, when the amount and difficulty of the work to be done seemed insurmountable, when people around me told me I wasn't good enough and when I doubted myself, days when I cried, and not with 1000 other people in an auditorium, wearing a hat & gown, but alone in my room. Without them, Commencement would be just another day.

I know the tone in some, if not most of this post might seem exaggerated, and cliche, but then I don't know how else to put it. It doesn't feel right to me if it's not over the top!

:)