Generally, empathy sans experience is rare and difficult. I did not understand why it took so long for her to get over that 'jerk', why she still pines for him and how she could ever forgive his nonsense--until it happened to me. My anger turned to sympathy and sadness even if I couldn't feel the intensity of emotion that she did. My anger toward him and her suddenly directed itself toward him and her fate.
Only because I have now affirmed that some solutions do not exist.
If they did exist and if I'd found one, potential kindness is annulled. Yea, I took the course, and yea it was tough. But, I worked hard and excelled. I got an A- and there's no reason you can't.
Either we hold ourselves up to a very high standard: 'Do what I did, just the way I did it.'
or
a very low one: 'If I can do it, anyone can.'
I don't know which it is, but they're both equally nutritious for the ego.
If you will notice carefully, as I do sometimes in my drunken stupors of introspection, we judge people based on what we would have done rather than based purely on what they have done. Our back story is more applicable then theirs. We are our own norm of sanity and moral. And for someone with such lowly self-esteem as me, it is relieving & refreshing to know that I do believe I have lived life to the best of my ability (and so should you.)
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Ultimate Ultimatum
Lonely is a worrisome emotion. Oh the lengths we will go to, to rid ourselves of Lonely! Lonely is not just about being lonely. It is so much more than that, in fact, it's probably everything but that. I feel like a loser when I'm lonely. The aunties work double-shift to find me a nice boy to get me out of Lonely. Couples allow me to tag along with them so that they can demonstrate how nice it is to be unlonely. After graduation it is a subtle contest to see who remains Lonely the longest, eek.
Lonely attacks Ego, Lonely creates ento- and exo- judgement: We spend a lot of time and energy ridding ourselves of Lonely; simultaneously publicizing that we are lonely by choice.
What makes two human beings better than one? Why must you be overly rich or overly successful or overly frivolous to justify Lonely? Why can't I live without you?
We grow up like this, you know. There's always the most popular girl in class that everyone wants to be friends with, that all the boys want to date, that all the girls want to be like. We added as many people as possible on Orkut and measured our worth by scraps per day ratio. We keep a mental tab of how many people remember our birthday.
'Lonely' is a ghastly old man in a dark rotten-wood house, limping toward the door to shoo off the neighborhood kids with his stick and stick-like fingers.
We are attracted by default to the unlonely, we want recognition as unlonely.
Mismatched matches, rebound relationships, four women with their pink martinis and high heels discuss animatedly why their romances didn't work, millions of people sigh happily as Ross & Rachel finally conquer Lonely.
Therefore, in undisputed summary: Lonely sucks, being unlonely is way cooler.
My only contention is, Lonely drives my relationships. I go to your party because I want you to attend mine. How would you feel if you were at the hospital and noone sent you flowers? I cannot possibly go to my school reunion without a date!
Really worrisome.
Lonely attacks Ego, Lonely creates ento- and exo- judgement: We spend a lot of time and energy ridding ourselves of Lonely; simultaneously publicizing that we are lonely by choice.
What makes two human beings better than one? Why must you be overly rich or overly successful or overly frivolous to justify Lonely? Why can't I live without you?
We grow up like this, you know. There's always the most popular girl in class that everyone wants to be friends with, that all the boys want to date, that all the girls want to be like. We added as many people as possible on Orkut and measured our worth by scraps per day ratio. We keep a mental tab of how many people remember our birthday.
'Lonely' is a ghastly old man in a dark rotten-wood house, limping toward the door to shoo off the neighborhood kids with his stick and stick-like fingers.
We are attracted by default to the unlonely, we want recognition as unlonely.
Mismatched matches, rebound relationships, four women with their pink martinis and high heels discuss animatedly why their romances didn't work, millions of people sigh happily as Ross & Rachel finally conquer Lonely.
Therefore, in undisputed summary: Lonely sucks, being unlonely is way cooler.
My only contention is, Lonely drives my relationships. I go to your party because I want you to attend mine. How would you feel if you were at the hospital and noone sent you flowers? I cannot possibly go to my school reunion without a date!
Really worrisome.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Not All Men Are Created Equal.
Imagine driving down a Mumbai highway late night at a 'high' speed (relative to the am traffic hours). It's 2am and I'm so tired, been up since 5:30 am. If I drive at the same rate I should be home and stretched out in bed by 2:40...
A man, a homeless bum wobbles down the road. Maybe inebriated, maybe mental. Noone to call his own, noone that cares if his blood pressure is a long ways over 120. He falls down strangely in the middle of the road and my brakes screech urgently. His head is bleeding, maybe hit his skull on the divider. There's noone around.
2:40 in bed vs...a longer night. Maybe cops, maybe the cold antiseptic tube-lights and green curtains of a hospital. Maybe under my plush quilt with the fan blowing my hair gently, the air conditioner set to the perfect temperature. There's noone around--but me and him.
What do I do? I'll never know, until it happens.
I do know this: If this man had the paunch of prosperity, a starched shirt, a pouch with a convenient wrist strap--he would be in the ER in under 30 mins, witnesses or no witnesses.
I know right from wrong. I also know convenience from inconvenience. And I know degrees of justification. Right and wrong is a variable measure depending on the strength of x and y. Black is one shade of gray and white is another shade of gray.
It creeps me out to think that I would actually consider walking away from a human in desperate need, rationaling 'maybe its for the best for society'. I judged that he doesn't contribute, doesn't work, has no family/friends and thus...
Please understand that I don't know yet, what I would do. Maybe I am a nice person and would help him. But I'll never know until.
Very very unfortunately, and maybe rightly so or wrongly so: every life has a price tag, subject to change without prior notice. We decide.
If I kill a cockroach I don't get nightmares about it, and wake up guilty. Certain countries practice public stoning as capital punishment. Staunch believers of Jainism won't even consider sauteing onions and garlic for flavoring their food. A trainful of dead Hindus delivered to India from Pakistan, and colonies of mortified Muslims hiding from rioting avengers in tilaks.
This is why dead homeless man won't make the news, not even a fifth page tiny paragraph; on the other hand, afternoon dailys will rush to the 1st floor, 2 bedroom flat of the widow seeking justice and life insurance.
A man, a homeless bum wobbles down the road. Maybe inebriated, maybe mental. Noone to call his own, noone that cares if his blood pressure is a long ways over 120. He falls down strangely in the middle of the road and my brakes screech urgently. His head is bleeding, maybe hit his skull on the divider. There's noone around.
2:40 in bed vs...a longer night. Maybe cops, maybe the cold antiseptic tube-lights and green curtains of a hospital. Maybe under my plush quilt with the fan blowing my hair gently, the air conditioner set to the perfect temperature. There's noone around--but me and him.
What do I do? I'll never know, until it happens.
I do know this: If this man had the paunch of prosperity, a starched shirt, a pouch with a convenient wrist strap--he would be in the ER in under 30 mins, witnesses or no witnesses.
I know right from wrong. I also know convenience from inconvenience. And I know degrees of justification. Right and wrong is a variable measure depending on the strength of x and y. Black is one shade of gray and white is another shade of gray.
It creeps me out to think that I would actually consider walking away from a human in desperate need, rationaling 'maybe its for the best for society'. I judged that he doesn't contribute, doesn't work, has no family/friends and thus...
Please understand that I don't know yet, what I would do. Maybe I am a nice person and would help him. But I'll never know until.
Very very unfortunately, and maybe rightly so or wrongly so: every life has a price tag, subject to change without prior notice. We decide.
If I kill a cockroach I don't get nightmares about it, and wake up guilty. Certain countries practice public stoning as capital punishment. Staunch believers of Jainism won't even consider sauteing onions and garlic for flavoring their food. A trainful of dead Hindus delivered to India from Pakistan, and colonies of mortified Muslims hiding from rioting avengers in tilaks.
This is why dead homeless man won't make the news, not even a fifth page tiny paragraph; on the other hand, afternoon dailys will rush to the 1st floor, 2 bedroom flat of the widow seeking justice and life insurance.
Friday, October 10, 2008
No News is Good News?
Sometimes I don't return calls. I pick up the phone, and go through the motions mentally. I have a rough skeleton of the entire conversation so, I yawn and rewatch a rerun of South Park.
Relationships, friendships plateau off endlessly because of time and space. Too much time spent together, or too little. Too much space in between me and her, or too little. Nothing to talk about, too much to talk about.
"We finish..."
"...each other's sentences!"
and that's why we clicked.
"I want to make friendship with you," I said, and we laughed and laughed and laughed until our sides hurt. But, in my defense, even a standup artist can be redundant in his acts. The jokes become predictable. I become predictable. The habits are cute, but the conversation isn't.
Soon, our friendships thrive on other lives. Pregnancy, divorces, secret boyfriends, births, accidents, rumors. Something new, something borrowed, something blue....
Now, I pick up the phone and go through the motions physically. Discuss, analyze, judge, agree, reconnect--reset.
Things must happen, information must be amassed to patch our lines. Otherwise, we are left reading about Sachin Tendulkar's broken toe for over a month in the headlines.
Strangely and maybe even rightly so, by general consensus the best of our very best bffs are the ones on that plateau with us. The 'I can be quiet when I'm with you, I can be myself' kinda buddies. The bored and boring kinda buddies.
The only way that I know of to fix this, is by careful manipulation of time and space. We meet after so long and yet, it's like we were never apart. How have you been? This was so much fun, listen, let's keep in touch this time...yes, yes, let's.
Relationships, friendships plateau off endlessly because of time and space. Too much time spent together, or too little. Too much space in between me and her, or too little. Nothing to talk about, too much to talk about.
"We finish..."
"...each other's sentences!"
and that's why we clicked.
"I want to make friendship with you," I said, and we laughed and laughed and laughed until our sides hurt. But, in my defense, even a standup artist can be redundant in his acts. The jokes become predictable. I become predictable. The habits are cute, but the conversation isn't.
Soon, our friendships thrive on other lives. Pregnancy, divorces, secret boyfriends, births, accidents, rumors. Something new, something borrowed, something blue....
Now, I pick up the phone and go through the motions physically. Discuss, analyze, judge, agree, reconnect--reset.
Things must happen, information must be amassed to patch our lines. Otherwise, we are left reading about Sachin Tendulkar's broken toe for over a month in the headlines.
Strangely and maybe even rightly so, by general consensus the best of our very best bffs are the ones on that plateau with us. The 'I can be quiet when I'm with you, I can be myself' kinda buddies. The bored and boring kinda buddies.
The only way that I know of to fix this, is by careful manipulation of time and space. We meet after so long and yet, it's like we were never apart. How have you been? This was so much fun, listen, let's keep in touch this time...yes, yes, let's.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
And/Or
I load a 0.3 micron thin mask over my sample in a lithography system. The mask has sub-50 nm features and I've done over a hundred experiments to reach this stage. It should work. It has to work. Every ion in the system must cooperate. Please follow the Gaussian, please please please. Every dust particle will land anywhere but on the spot I want it to. A prayer, a shiver. A prayer. Please don't let the mask break. Please nothing should move. Please, please, please don't screw this up.
Nothing snaps. I still breathe. But do I get the 20nm patterns I want? Where science fails, God prevails.
In the great grand scheme of things and in the teeniest tiniest particulates of matter, every picosecond of 'is' and 'isnt', is or isn't.
Ever since I could afford insurance, this has become more and more clear. Will I die, won't I. Can I manage driving sans a collision from April through October? How much do I bet that I won't need a cavity filled up this year? And so, I gamble my existence. 500$ deductible. Maybe...1000?
I took a course 'Probability & Statistics' in grad school, a science designed to etch out a sample space of possibilities in 2D and 3D and nD and godknowswhat. Quantifying for the sake of mankind infinite random possibilities, neatly charting it to a Poisson distribution so we can be relieved that the unpredictability is predictable.
But, not all things are Poisson. And almost nothing is binary. Add to that my weak mental math skills. So, I supplement with Celestial Prophecy, The Secret, Power of Now, Power of Positive, Power of Prayer, learn to harness all my energy to think up a parking spot at 10:30 am Tuesday in the Engg Bldg lot. Murphy, leave me alone, dammit!!!
Some people take up Pessimism. Earnestly, sincerely. Upside is an ever-pleasant surprise when they push F5 and the program runs sans a red beeping 'Error!'. The downside is..well, pessimism.
Some people take up Optimism. Earnestly, sincerely. Gooooood Morning! Beautiful day, isn't it? I parked way out across the street, but it's okay, I enjoyed the walk. Don't worry, you'll definitely win the lottery this year.
The horoscope booklet my parents had made is almost as thick as my Masters thesis. Years that will be good for me, years that I must be wary of men and marriage, years that my tummy will ache. The Universe working hard to make me or break me and a How-To book for surviving in this cruel world.
If I ever forget how little control I have over the is's and isnt's, if I ever forget my place in the great grand scheme of things and the teeniest tiniest particulates of matter, I play a quiet game of Minesweeper.
Nothing snaps. I still breathe. But do I get the 20nm patterns I want? Where science fails, God prevails.
In the great grand scheme of things and in the teeniest tiniest particulates of matter, every picosecond of 'is' and 'isnt', is or isn't.
Ever since I could afford insurance, this has become more and more clear. Will I die, won't I. Can I manage driving sans a collision from April through October? How much do I bet that I won't need a cavity filled up this year? And so, I gamble my existence. 500$ deductible. Maybe...1000?
I took a course 'Probability & Statistics' in grad school, a science designed to etch out a sample space of possibilities in 2D and 3D and nD and godknowswhat. Quantifying for the sake of mankind infinite random possibilities, neatly charting it to a Poisson distribution so we can be relieved that the unpredictability is predictable.
But, not all things are Poisson. And almost nothing is binary. Add to that my weak mental math skills. So, I supplement with Celestial Prophecy, The Secret, Power of Now, Power of Positive, Power of Prayer, learn to harness all my energy to think up a parking spot at 10:30 am Tuesday in the Engg Bldg lot. Murphy, leave me alone, dammit!!!
Some people take up Pessimism. Earnestly, sincerely. Upside is an ever-pleasant surprise when they push F5 and the program runs sans a red beeping 'Error!'. The downside is..well, pessimism.
Some people take up Optimism. Earnestly, sincerely. Gooooood Morning! Beautiful day, isn't it? I parked way out across the street, but it's okay, I enjoyed the walk. Don't worry, you'll definitely win the lottery this year.
The horoscope booklet my parents had made is almost as thick as my Masters thesis. Years that will be good for me, years that I must be wary of men and marriage, years that my tummy will ache. The Universe working hard to make me or break me and a How-To book for surviving in this cruel world.
If I ever forget how little control I have over the is's and isnt's, if I ever forget my place in the great grand scheme of things and the teeniest tiniest particulates of matter, I play a quiet game of Minesweeper.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Frankly Challenged
Excerpt from the movie 'In Good Company' (2004)
Carter Duryea (played by Topher Grace): I'm gonna have to let some people go.
Dan Foreman (Dennis Quaid): Why do you say let them go? They don't want to go. Why don't you just say fire them?
Carter Duryea: Because it sounds better.
Dan Foreman: Not to the person getting fired it doesn't.
We have today, H.R. departments, customer service representatives, and even doctors trained intensively in the fine art of diplomacy. There's a new glossary of terms like 'vertically challenged', 'dusky', and (haha!) 'independent'.
What would you rather have? Would you rather the pretty lady at the counter on Terminal B Gate 22 say 'I'm sorry we screwed up and overbooked. You have two options. Take a refund. Or we can book you onto another flight Tuesday night 11pm?'
This is assuming the same amount of information essentially is conveyed by both the good cop and bad cop. And, this is assuming we are perceptive enough to connect the dots etched out by the good cop.
If we do choose the harsh truth, does that make us masochists? Or....or do we want the other person to suffer a little too. Cringe a little in their seats, shift about crossing and uncrossing their legs, wince and say 'I can't see you anymore. I don't like you.'
Honestly, for me, it's mostly the latter.
As I'm sure for most people, we want to hear the facts like shards of glass. There is a tendency to believe that clarity is achieved this way--at the risk of sounding like an old wise Asian (!) teacher, 'Clarity is within you'.
I concede that this is a very gray area of discussion. There may also be times, when I'm curled up in denial and know that my friend is trying to tell me she doesn't approve of my taste in men, that I don't look good in skinny jeans anymore, but I don't want it said out loud. And if the conversation leads there inconsequentially even bordering on dangerous terrain, I might get rebellious and say 'Go on, say it. Say what you really mean, that you think I'm fat!'
Monday, July 21, 2008
The Power of Negativity
I was at Kroger with my friend and we were rushing to get last minute things for a last minute party. We decided on a big chocolatey cake and I think she had a phone call or something to attend to while I rushed to one of the checkout aisles. There was a man ahead of me with what I thought was a cartful of things so I asked him urgently, 'Can I go before you?' Sounded reasonable to me, all I had was one cake. But, he replied almost immediately, 'No.' Lucky for me, turned out he had only two things to buy. And with the last item he looked at me and my cake cheekily and asked 'So why'd you want to go ahead of me?' I fumbled and mumbled something about getting late or thinking that he had tons of things to scan.
Later in the car, I told my friend how cool it was that he could say 'no' just like that! I know it could've turned into offensive or unchivalrous or something like that but, to me and her, it was so admirable.
It's so hard to say no, for me. [Not a good admission for a gal to make, is it?!]
If I could just sum up everything that's ever gone wrong in my life it would all come down to a gutless kid/teenager/adult that nodded a lot.
Anyway, that's my future therapist's problem. Let's come back to shallow waters because that's more doable for my mediocre writing skills: why is it such a big deal to refuse someone I don't like, asking me to do something I don't like?
Culture, politeness, etc.--but, isn't that illogical though? How much of an effect should these have? How about if I bow and refuse politely? It's the fear of 'looking bad' that overrides convenience. And so, I end up with a terrible haircut and leave the salon sans a fuss and cry in the privacy of my car.
In the other, slightly better case, there's the desperate attempt at a pathetic excuse.
'I would share my last piece of tiny chocolate with you, but my Mom said not to.'
'I already have a bf'
'I'm sorry my car broke down. Otherwise, I'd have driven 50 miles to the airport to pick you up and drop you back'
Maybe sometime in the future I might need a favor...I have a busload of kickass friends. Who would I rather ask?
Maybe I'm stashing Karma points. Yea yea, while boozing and backbiting bout those buggers.
Maybe I'm just too nice to turn down an opportunity to help another human being. Ha! I don't believe I can ever say that line with a straight face.
Maybe I want them to think I'm nice...yup. That's probably it. One drag and they won't think I'm such a prudie.
I hate them. But they can't hate me.
-----------------------
Personal milestone:
Several months ago, when I was still in Texas, a deep, manly voice called me on my landline to rattle on about how I must've seen the news about some cop(s) that died in service and funds were being gathered for his family. Would I like to donate 25$, 50$, or 100$?
"Oh," I replied sarcastically, "I get a choice?"
"Yes, ma'am. 25$, 50$, 100$"
"I can't give that much."
"Ok, we're going to put you in for 15$ then. Is that okay?"
....
"Um...I guess."
The next few days I kicked myself for donating to a charity I didn't want to. I know, I know, it's a good deed. But, still, principle of the thing. I thought about calling and reverting my pledge. For 15$? Nah, forget it. Won't look good.
I got a badge and some other paraphernalia (which ironically seemed worth almost 15$!) so I could brag about how I helped our uniformed guardians.
[Enter: My Kroger hero]
Two months later, the voice called again. Same script.
"But, I already paid for that."
"No, ma'am. It's some other cops that also died in the line of duty. It's for them. Would you like to donate 25$, 50$, or 100$?"
"I can't give that much."
"Ok, we're going to put you in for 15$ then. Is that okay?"
Wince. "No."
"How about just 10$? Any amount would be useful, ma'am."
Nausea. "No."
Do I hear an applause? :)
Later in the car, I told my friend how cool it was that he could say 'no' just like that! I know it could've turned into offensive or unchivalrous or something like that but, to me and her, it was so admirable.
It's so hard to say no, for me. [Not a good admission for a gal to make, is it?!]
If I could just sum up everything that's ever gone wrong in my life it would all come down to a gutless kid/teenager/adult that nodded a lot.
Anyway, that's my future therapist's problem. Let's come back to shallow waters because that's more doable for my mediocre writing skills: why is it such a big deal to refuse someone I don't like, asking me to do something I don't like?
Culture, politeness, etc.--but, isn't that illogical though? How much of an effect should these have? How about if I bow and refuse politely? It's the fear of 'looking bad' that overrides convenience. And so, I end up with a terrible haircut and leave the salon sans a fuss and cry in the privacy of my car.
In the other, slightly better case, there's the desperate attempt at a pathetic excuse.
'I would share my last piece of tiny chocolate with you, but my Mom said not to.'
'I already have a bf'
'I'm sorry my car broke down. Otherwise, I'd have driven 50 miles to the airport to pick you up and drop you back'
Maybe sometime in the future I might need a favor...I have a busload of kickass friends. Who would I rather ask?
Maybe I'm stashing Karma points. Yea yea, while boozing and backbiting bout those buggers.
Maybe I'm just too nice to turn down an opportunity to help another human being. Ha! I don't believe I can ever say that line with a straight face.
Maybe I want them to think I'm nice...yup. That's probably it. One drag and they won't think I'm such a prudie.
I hate them. But they can't hate me.
-----------------------
Personal milestone:
Several months ago, when I was still in Texas, a deep, manly voice called me on my landline to rattle on about how I must've seen the news about some cop(s) that died in service and funds were being gathered for his family. Would I like to donate 25$, 50$, or 100$?
"Oh," I replied sarcastically, "I get a choice?"
"Yes, ma'am. 25$, 50$, 100$"
"I can't give that much."
"Ok, we're going to put you in for 15$ then. Is that okay?"
....
"Um...I guess."
The next few days I kicked myself for donating to a charity I didn't want to. I know, I know, it's a good deed. But, still, principle of the thing. I thought about calling and reverting my pledge. For 15$? Nah, forget it. Won't look good.
I got a badge and some other paraphernalia (which ironically seemed worth almost 15$!) so I could brag about how I helped our uniformed guardians.
[Enter: My Kroger hero]
Two months later, the voice called again. Same script.
"But, I already paid for that."
"No, ma'am. It's some other cops that also died in the line of duty. It's for them. Would you like to donate 25$, 50$, or 100$?"
"I can't give that much."
"Ok, we're going to put you in for 15$ then. Is that okay?"
Wince. "No."
"How about just 10$? Any amount would be useful, ma'am."
Nausea. "No."
Do I hear an applause? :)
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