The decision that matters

The Eurostar left Rome Termini fifteen minutes late. Considering the weather, the elderly  lady was thanking God that the train finally started. Her daughter who had come to see off her parents, had a face with anxiety written all over it, in bold letters . The weather had changed for a sunny bit. The sun was out and so too the sun glasses. It was just a tad better than the previous days. The general traffic remained disrupted and forty minutes into the journey, it was more than evident. The whole land was covered with snow. The countryside, the rooftops and the whole landscape had forgotten the existence of other colours in the palette other than snowwhite. The newly wedded couple from Asia was rewarded with this scenario,eventhough many would have counselled against their travel in this trying weather. The Chinese youngster was lapping up images for posterity and his digital camera was suffering. I slowly nodded off, knowing well that despite its freshness, the snow is an occupational hazard.

Strangely the train arrived in Padova in  time. I remembered the journey I made last year, into the same destination and how things were different. I had another ninety minutes before I could catch  the next train. The temperature was neither positive or negative; it stood dead at zero and it was freezing. My panini-sandwich lunch took just ten minutes and I had a good eighty minutes to struggle with. It was biting cold and I had no other place to visit. The station was painfully cold and my best refuge was the shopping centre with heating. I had nothing to buy, but I found myself in the shopping centre inspecting all sorts of vegetables and goodies. Soon enough, I got bored, picked up two bottles of water and was at the payment desk. A queue had formed and a new counter was opened up. I was patience personified and let others pass before me. I had all the time in the world. The queue, 'fila Indiana,' however was not moving up. There was a youngster with a packet- the ubiquitous potato chip packet- at the other end of the line. He was  rummaging through his pockets for money. Finding none he took off his half gloves, started searching again in vain. The lady at the desk was getting impatient and was all gestures, of course, the Italian way. He gave up his search and headed towards the door. I was almost sure that he would produce some money from his pocket. When he paced forward, I knew that words, that I would pay, did not come out from my mouth. After all it was a small packet of potato chips. I saw him walking way, keeping a hand to his stomach. My heart sank. I had to spent a couple of minutes to pay my bill. I charged outside.  He had headed towards the main entrance. Among the Sunday crowd I started to scan his face. It was then it dawned on me the worth of the milli seconds I had wasted to say a few words, which would have made a difference to him. The bitter cold had only increased and I walked up and down the station in vain hope that I could revert my earlier decision. I was freezing up, but I continued to search him in the book stall, in the bar-coffee shop, among the gypsies who were stationed at the door. I walked aimlessly with a glimmer of hope that he would reappear. But I had lost him.

I was touching close to respond, but something prevented me from responding. The sight of this youngster walking away did pain me. I could have done it. But he was gone. Decisions do matter, you have only milliseconds to make a difference.

The kid on the block

The Silicon valley wonder kid is no longer the mysterious sweat shirted world’s youngest billionaire. Mark Zuckerberg, the co founder and CEO of Facebook is the new face on the cover page of Time. His face is etched there for “changing how we all live our lives” according to the selection panel of the ‘Person of the year’ award. Indeed, it has capped all his activities, connecting 500 million Facebook users across the world.

A few days back he had created ripples when he signed up for the ‘Giving Pledge,’ an initiative founded by Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates, asking signatories to step up their donations for worthy causes. “People wait until late in their career to give back. But why wait when there is so much to be done? With a generation of younger folks who have thrived on the success of their companies, there is a big opportunity for many of us to give back earlier in our lifetime and see the impact of our philanthropic efforts,” said this ‘Accidental Billionaire.’  This infact is considered to be a moral commitment and not a legal contract.  Something spectacular happened in India too, when WIPRO chairman Azeem Premji, donated 2 billion dollars to Indian primary education. In fact the rich often tend to behave poorly given the fact that much of them income is reinvested to harvest more money.  The biggest donation in the history of philanthropy of India has not meandered into the plum account sheets of business schools or religious establishments or higher education, but has gone to young Indian citizens which could give them wings to reach the unreachable. Many a tiny feet will be saved from the dirt tracks of India.

Zuckerberg is also the chief character in the much talked about Hollywood movie, ‘The Social Network.’ The films portrays Zuckerberg as a brilliant, power hungry, back stabbing hacker fuelled by social recognition and girls, which the Facebook has dubbed the films as mere fiction. Zuckerberg is said to have bought out two theatres so that his entire crew could watch the movie. The movie has already won six Golden Globe nominations and is a frontrunner for the Academy awards. Despite all the contentious issues of privacy violations alleged against Facebook, Zuckerberg remains committed to his widen the ‘Facebook effect.’ 500 million and growing users are already hooked up to his special effect. His audience is growing exponentially.  Right now he is the cynosure of all eyes. Mr Julian Assange, the 'Leak' man who was thought to be the heir to the throne is beaten at the post.


http://www.time.com/time/

Killer conflicts !!!

Conflict is not to be labelled as aggression, neither it is the recipe of wars. It could be the banality of life that could spurn up conflicts. But the tendency of the press, the opinion leaders, the ring leaders who control the shows,  is to patronize the conflict,  favouring one side or the other, offering texts of a single voice. There are those who do present both of them together, resulting in a deficit balance of a situation or a surplus, or it could be a forced one too, an internal conflict t. The most difficult ones could be the internal conflicts. It needs no introduction, it could be written all over you, no  magic formula could unravel these conflicts.

Talk about Emmanuel Kant and who can forget, “Cogito ergo sum.” His philosophy rested on doubt. Doubt in paranoiac proportions is etched into every frame of the  movie “Doubt”, a screen adaptation of John Patrick Shanley’s stage play. Meryl Streep, as a sceptical nun, puts up an impressive performance, with winds of energy and humour. Father Flynn, a hushed downed Philip Seymour Hoffman, is  at the eye of the storm, fanned in by the unsuspecting doubts of a younger nun, enacted by Amy Adams.  Sister Aloysius, (M Streep) is bent on accusing her superior, Fr Flynn of 'unusual interests' on one of students, that too, the only black student in the school. The movies is nothing about main stream movie which does not tolerate tolerate ambiguity as the coffers won’t cling loud enough.  The conflicts are well pronounced from the very moment Fr Flynn sits on the chair of the principal, offers suggestion about a secular song for Christmas, the use of ball pens, long nails, sugar in the tea etc. Fr Flynn’s crime seems to be his tolerance and his character is delineated to elicit more sympathy than any other emotion.

The final frame puts these words in the mouth of Sr Aloysius, “ I have such doubts.” This is no adrenalin pumping, edge of the seat entertainer. Conflict just refuses to die and the compelling performances by the lead actors just underlines the diabolical character of conflict. The film could be blamed to be a bit one-dimensional, but speak about conflict and it's a full house.

Changing Education Paradigms

I chanced across this video and thought I should share it. The lecture has lots to tell about the system of education and the need to shift all those paradigms. There are interesting and stimulating observations. What stimulated me was the use of technology which rendered the whole talk into pictures in real time. Thought you should also see it...

Life: a homeward bound journey

I am in silent admiration of people who affront life with great dignity, people who stand up and like to be counted at the twists and turns of life. This admiration is not about the miniscule percent of great people who were destined to be great, who were thrust into greatness. It is all about the ordinary people who were rudely awakened to think of the expanse of life when tragedy hit them unexpectedly with ruthless cruelty and lack of imagination. What keeps them ticking while a loved one is literally prised away makes them more than human, as most of them were never prepared for a shining blade that halved their lives into two.

These people are unsung heroes, who find refuge in sharing their sorrow with others, who find the brighter side of life with little preparation. Relations, genders, races and ages do not get distinguished when  heartbreak strikes.  Of late many tragedies have left me shaken, even though I have kept my gaze ahead. I have tried to shake off the sentiments; in vain I  have hung on, but memories fail to die and faces refuse to fade away. I have always thought that in my vocation one gets immune to tragedies, at least for a wee bit. That was a belief I collected on my journey, when once for a fleeting moment my voice trembled during a funeral and the torrent of anguish and distress poured into heartbreaking cries. That has haunted me every time I officiated a farewell rite. I was mighty impressed with the faith of a good friend when she prayed for clear skies during the last rites of her mother and was amply rewarded during an unkind monsoon season. There was a leap in her faith when she along with her sister realized that it was time to leave their mother in the hands of God, instead of keeping her back.

The ebb of life never ceases. The days of laughter are to be replaced with tears and deep despair. Dear ones depart and their loses are never replaced. But life has to gone on. It becomes easy when one finds solace in the courage of these unsung heroes, who chose to take a fresh look at life every time tragedy struck them unawares.