A Cabbie in NYC

After a long time, I visited a city that evoked the writer in me. New York City though very different from my hometown Kolkata is also very similar in many ways. Both cities are like a complex tapestry—a form of textile art that is composed of two sets of interlaced threads; where one set of threads are completely hidden in the finished work. Both cities crave intimacy—they never reveal their true nature to a stranger.

I’ve always been intrigued by whatever that is hidden beneath. As a boy I tore apart toy cars to see what’s inside. As a teenager I tried to understand the mechanics of the human mind and expressed it through poetry. As an adult I studied neuroscience and psychology to understand why people behave differently and also dabbled in occult literature for answers to life’s questions that are yet to be resolved by science.

The same uneasiness of not knowing the unknown made me chat up a few cabbies. The cabbies in New York City come from all over the world and from diverse cultures and backgrounds like many other New Yorkers who make it a truly international city.

The first cab we took was driven by an African man whose accent sounded familiar. The only African country I’ve been to is Ghana for my IBM corporate service corps assignment. My conversation starter was “Hello, Sir! Are you from Ghana by any chance?” And yes indeed he was from Ghana and he seemed visibly impressed by my ability to read his accent. After a bit of small talk and me talking about my assignment in Ghana it was my turn to be impressed. I came to know that he had been saving money as a cabbie for close to ten years for opening up a school back in Ghana. The construction for which has started and it’ll be fully operational by the end of this year. I congratulated him for his achievement and wished him all the luck that he can have. As I was lamenting on the sorry state of the schools in Ghana and the fact that the students have to walk miles to get to their schools he assured me that he’ll not only provide quality education but will also arrange for busses to pickup and drop students. He also invited me to his home if I ever visited Ghana again.

Though there are several other interesting stories about New York (and I’ll surely write about it in future) but I’ll end this story here itself since I want the story of the Ghanaian cabbie to remain with you and not get lost in the clutter of other “interesting” stories. The Ghanaian cabbie reassures us that we can be what we want to be and we can change the world the way we want it to be. He is just a “cabbie” in New York City but he has learnt to look up and tear up the sky, like the numerous skyscrapers he wades through with his cab, for a sprinkling of hope and happiness that he can shower on his country.

God help me

It’s an often heard expression when life throws us a challenge—“God help me!” As I see it, God helps us by not helping. He keeps throwing challenges at us to “test” our ability to overcome them. And if we accept them and do our best to overcome them, we develop a special ability called character—courage, fortitude, integrity, honesty et al.

So next time you say “God help me!” remember to help yourself. God is helping you always, all the time.

Good plumber, bad plumber, and ...

There are, in all probability, only three kinds of people in the world—the good plumber, the bad plumber, and the one who goes beyond being just a plumber—the kind of person, who cleans up all the muck and redesigns the entire system in a way that the muck never shows up.

I always aspire to be the third kind. However, I’m seeing so much muck lately, that I’m beginning to doubt if I would ever be able to clean it all up. Two of my very close friends—patience and hope—are helping me. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

Taming the monkey mind

The mind has a natural tendency to roam between the sensory inputs. Every sensory input creates a ripple in the mind—a surge of electricity that bind neurons and creates pathways in the brain. Based on the inputs we receive, new pathways are created and old pathways are pruned. Little by little the structure of our brain changes, little by little we change as individuals. I’m not the same person I was yesterday. You are not the same person you were yesterday. Little by little we are transformed completely.

Transformation induced by sensory inputs makes us reactive—the state of the brain where we are no more in control of our actions, but merely responding to external stimuli. At that point, we are caught in a vicious circle—a sensory input creates a ripple in the mind, the ripple causes us to react, the reaction induces other sensory inputs, again causing a ripple and so on. The ripples created in our mind shapes our personality and make us who we are.

Is there a way out of this vicious circle? Is there a way out of this reactive behavior?

Yes, there are several ways. We could start by trying to understand how the mind works. We could use meditation as a tool—a tool that may help us to collect the fragments of our mind—fragmented by our own sense perception.

Withdraw your senses and observe how it changes you. Focus between your eyebrows and forget everything else.

Social Networking Bankruptcy

As an early adopter, I’ve been using MySpace, Facebook, and Orkut for long. But I did something unexpected today—not unexpected for me but for some of my virtual friends—I canceled my MySpace account.

It’s probably a sign that I’m facing social networking bankruptcy. Too many networks, too many virtual friends, and too much chatter … but very little that can add value to my life.

Maybe someday, with the advancement of technology, our virtual lives will look and feel as real as our real lives. Maybe it’ll be the only way—if and when Mother Nature unleashes her fury on us and we’re forced to live like rats in underground tunnels—we can experience the sights, sounds, and smells of the world as we know it today. May be social networking, virtual worlds, mind uploading, and many other concepts will all come together one day and engulf us in a new Maya. Maybe future generations will be born engulfed in that Maya and never know any other way of existence.

However, until then, I think it adds more value to pick up the phone and call a friend … or if he/she is too busy send a text message or an e-mail. I know many of you will disagree … but that’s what life is all about … as they say “to each his/her own.”

Note: I’m still hanging around in Facebook and Orkut though, because I still find the photo sharing feature useful.

The Best of 2009

Since 2009 is now over, I thought it would be interesting to explore the things that appealed to me most ... to my senses to be precise.

The best thing I saw—Avatar in 3D and everything we saw in Orlando. Blind Side was a close second.

The best thing I heard—songs by Parapar.

The best thing I touched—my new Garmin nuvi GPS. I'm directionally challenged and hate asking for directions—what better thing to touch?

The best thing I tasted—seafood by Bubba Gump Shrimp Co.

The best thing I smelled—the air in Arkansas ... sounds strange? It won't if you come from Kolkata.

What appealed to me beyond the senses? The joy of meeting my family after three months. The Corporate Service Corps experience was a close second.

Miniature ballerinas

Magic happened one day when I was lying in Sampurna’s arms with my head on her chest—flakes of snow started appearing. They danced their way down like miniature ballerinas, softly and quietly and in no hurry to touch the earth. It seemed like a gift from the heavens as they floated on air and kissed the window panes. We kept on watching the snow as it descended on the courtyard. After almost two hours, the courtyard turned completely white. London experienced its heaviest snowfall in ten years.

—God Behind the Firewall

Bentonville is no London, I'm no Arun (the protagonist in the novel), and I'm all by myself. However, it’s the same with snowfalls. As I looked through the window panes early in the morning, flakes of snow started appearing. They danced their way down like miniature ballerinas, softly and quietly and in no hurry to touch the earth. It seemed like a gift from the heavens as they floated on air and kissed the window panes. I kept on watching the snow as it descended on the parking lot. I witnessed snowfall, for the first time in Bentonville.