Interesting excerpt that moves me... from Douglas Adams’ The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

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“Good evening," it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, "I am the main Dish of the Day. May I interest you in parts of my body? It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hind quarters into a more comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.

Its gaze was met by looks of startled bewilderment from Arthur and Trillian, a resigned shrug from Ford Prefect and naked hunger from Zaphod Beeblebrox.

"Something off the shoulder perhaps?" suggested the animal. "Braised in a white wine sauce?"

"Er, your shoulder?" said Arthur in a horrified whisper.

"But naturally my shoulder, sir," mooed the animal contentedly, "nobody else's is mine to offer."

Zaphod leapt to his feet and started prodding and feeling the animal's shoulder appreciatively.

"Or the rump is very good," murmured the animal. "I've been exercising it and eating plenty of grain, so there's a lot of good meat there." It gave a mellow grunt, gurgled again and started to chew the cud. It swallowed the cud again.

"Or a casserole of me perhaps?" it added.

"You mean this animal actually wants us to eat it?" whispered Trillian to Ford.

"Me?" said Ford, with a glazed look in his eyes. "I don't mean anything."

"That's absolutely horrible," exclaimed Arthur, "the most revolting thing I've ever heard."

"What's the problem, Earthman?" said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to the animal's enormous rump.

"I just don't want to eat an animal that's standing there inviting me to," said Arthur. "It's heartless."

"Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten," said Zaphod.

"That's not the point," Arthur protested. Then he thought about it for a moment. "All right," he said, "maybe it is the point. I don't care, I'm not going to think about it now. I'll just ... er ..."

The Universe raged about him in its death throes.

"I think I'll just have a green salad," he muttered.

"May I urge you to consider my liver?" asked the animal, "it must be very rich and tender by now, I've been force-feeding myself for months."

"A green salad," said Arthur emphatically.

"A green salad?" said the animal, rolling his eyes disapprovingly at Arthur.

"Are you going to tell me," said Arthur, "that I shouldn't have green salad?"

"Well," said the animal, "I know many vegetables that are very clear on that point. Which is why it was eventually decided to cut through the whole tangled problem and breed an animal that actually wanted to be eaten and was capable of saying so clearly and distinctly. And here I am."

It managed a very slight bow.

"Glass of water please," said Arthur.

"Look," said Zaphod, "we want to eat, we don't want to make a meal of the issues. Four rare steaks please, and hurry. We haven't eaten in five hundred and seventy-six thousand million years."

The animal staggered to its feet. It gave a mellow gurgle.

"A very wise choice, sir, if I may say so. Very good," it said. "I'll just nip off and shoot myself."

He turned and gave a friendly wink to Arthur.

"Don't worry, sir," he said, "I'll be very humane."

It waddled unhurriedly off to the kitchen.

A matter of minutes later the waiter arrived with four huge steaming steaks.”

I have not been ignoring the blog… a lot has happened. And good things too! :) I am embarking on a new phase of my career journey in the new year though it’s not exactly how I planned it. In some sense it is perhaps better than how I imagined it would be because I never imagined I would scale the next mountain with a small step. I didn’t even know if the small step would take me anywhere higher up the mountain but this is doing that… so as they say, when you think one window has closed, another one might just open… and the view might just be better if you take your eyes off what you wanted to see to what is really in front of you! :) I am pretty positive about where this step is going to take me… so hang on, dear reader, we are in for a ride methinks!

A new friend of mine invited me to go to the chaplaincy with her for some carol singing. At first my lazy self said a no, and then my mind popped up a story. I am not sure if I have mentioned this story on my blog before—I might have—but it’s a pretty popular one. A man seems to be drowning at sea and he keeps praying to God to save him. Three boats pass by asking him to hop in or calling out to him to help save him, but this man refuses each time, saying that God will save him. The man dies and goes to heaven. When he questions God as to why He did not rescue him, God tells him that he sent boats to his rescue three times. I suppose the moral of the story is that God might work in mysterious ways and we need to be open to the signs? I’m not really sure why I thought of this story in this context but it struck me that ordinarily I wouldn’t have visited a church or a chapel, so if this opportunity sort of came out of the blue, maybe I should heed it? The fact that there was the possibility of cake after the carol singing seemed like a not-so-bad side effect of the whole thing… hehe…

It’s almost that time of the year. And promises to be another year of me staying put. I so do not want that to be the case… but I have too many things cooking at the moment and cannot afford to get out of the kitchen :( ... a variety of permutations and combinations could also lead to very different tracks so again have to wait and watch and then decide… let’s see… things are going to be interesting one way or another.

I had always looked forward to one milestone (among many others) and it feels a little odd that it just passed and I haven’t really felt anything. I submitted my first co-authored paper to a journal! I guess I will feel something only when I know its fate. There are so many stories out there of papers getting rejected, taking aeons to publish, never seeing the light of the day, moving from journal to journal for a home, and so on that I suppose I want it to be low-key till I actually have something concrete underfoot.

I have been reflecting a lot of late on the question of identity. People speak of things being core to identity but I suppose identity can be pretty multi-dimensional and dynamic. There are situations when my Indianness feels very core to my identity, situations where my strong integrity does, sometimes my intellectual and reflective orientation,… it’s not this or that but everything… if you take any of these things out, I wouldn’t be me. The other day someone said something very negative about India and I felt my identity diminished, as if I needed to speak up in defence not for the country so much as for who I am. Then in another encounter someone made me feel like I hadn’t really accomplished enough or fast enough. It made me feel diminished. As if the potential invested in me that people expected me to fulfil was languishing because I wasn’t really getting on with it. All of these events coming one after another in the same space of time brought this deep reflection on identity. Of course, in principle I do subscribe to the idea that our identity cannot be determined or challenged by other people. It must be internally wired and internally driven. And yet, practically speaking, isn’t our identity thrown into the world also an attempt at projection… of who we are and therefore how we want to be perceived? If I am a person of integrity, wouldn’t it matter to me that I am also seen as such, not by every person, but in a general way? I suppose there is an interplay there in terms of who I am, how I act (in line with who I am or not), and how I want to be perceived… and a disconnect in any two could be a source of tension. If I act in a way that is not really who I think I am it causes me to reflect too. Perhaps also depends on how much value one places on consistency of character, self-reflection etc…

Nowadays whenever something doesn’t work out as per my expectations or fizzles out, I ask myself, what can I learn from this? Earlier I would have simply blamed fate but now I think, wait a minute, fate is trying to tell me or teach me something. I might have been disappointed this time round but maybe this disappointment was necessary because I am yet to learn something. I need to think of this as an opportunity. As an opportunity to learn that lesson or I am going to be disappointed yet again. I guess I am taking this approach because when I look back on my life, like a meme I saw recently succinctly puts it, “the things that didn’t work out for me worked out for me”. When I think about what if two-three of my major disappointments hadn’t happened, I realise I would be on a completely different trajectory, and not one that I would choose over the one I am on now. To give an example, I was once extremely disappointed to not get a certain job which was in a different city than Mumbai where I lived. At that point I thought of it as a stellar career opportunity but now when I think of it, I wonder what the big deal was. The job I got after that was a million times better, and what is even better, it sort of paved the way for other things I wouldn’t have done if I had got that initial job. Also, I would have lived away from my family and now having lived away from my family for a few years I am glad I didn’t lose more time with them. So lesson number one is, I didn’t really lose anything then though I thought I did. And I learnt something from that episode.

In the present case too, I am telling myself that though it feels like the end of the world, it isn’t. What’s going to come after this will most likely be way better and maybe this was not the best time for this opportunity to materialise. I am also thinking of the many lessons I have learnt from this setback. It boils down to the fact that I must avoid a sense of entitlement. Yes, I do believe I deserve certain things and I do believe I could do more than justice to certain things, but to convert what I believe to what other people believe of me is a process, it can’t be a demand or an expectation. Obviously we all would like to be handed things on a plate but that’s not how the real world works and if that’s how it doesn’t work, I do not have cause to be disappointed. All in all, I must be more patient, more stoic, and more focused on the road rather than the destination. I generally am these things but sometimes when the destination seems to be just around the corner, I lose a sense of perspective. I just want to be there already. That can misfire because I lose energy and motivation when I realise it was a mirage. There are still more bends to be crossed and traversed. And the other thing is I must not think myself entitled to other people’s consideration. I am not wrong to think that if they believe in me and are on my side, they should show up and step up. But I must not put stock on it. If it happens, great. If not, too bad. That will help me remain grounded. That will help me remember that the only person you can ultimately count on showing up and stepping up, is you.

Maybe losing a battle or two is good preparation for winning the war…

A while ago, someone I look up to, gave me a piece of advice. He said I should pick my battles because if everything is important to me then it could seem like nothing is. I understood his point but my counterpoint is this: we cannot be who we are in one thing or big things, it permeates everything if they are genuinely and earnestly held values. As Aristotle said, excellence is not an act but a habit and I become who I am because I follow through my principles consistently. It's to say that if I care about honesty, I am going to be motivated to be honest in general, not one day when hundreds of lives are at stake because that's who I am. If I think critically, I am going to apply it generally, not just in a high stakes essay.

However, lately I feel that my approach and the world I live in are not in sync. If I were living in ancient Greece where everyone was concerned about living a virtuous life and where engaging in philosophical contemplation was the highest form of life or life well lived, I would be living in my kind of world indeed. But the truth is I am living in a world where the average person's concerns stretch to how to spend the weekend, and beyond that to other materialistic life goals that are hard enough to achieve. Of course I have enough materialistic goals myself to make light of them. My point is not about having those goals but rather than people in today's world are all consumed by them. Thinking for the sake of learning or pursuing inquiry for the sake of discovery might be deemed a waste of time or time that doesn't fall into either fun or gain. It does fall into fun/pleasure/gain for me. It is why it never crosses my mind that I need to "pick a battle" or choose the things I belabour about because I don't see it as a battle at all; I see it as critical thinking or learning or discovering, for myself and the other person.

I am realising though that because I am at cross-purposes with others who want to simply get on with the everyday business of living life instead of wrestling with intellectual or moral or analytical conundrums, I need to modify my approach. Mainly because if there is no mutual pleasure in these explorations or no mutual concern with developing rigorous thinking habits, it is not something to be imposed on others. The question is how do I not lose myself while being respectful of others' divergent priorities? That's something I am chewing on. One technique could be to ponder or dive deep about things on my own without involving other people (unless they show interest)--which is where this blog comes in too. If they say something that is blatantly misguided, I could consider how important that particular point is in the overall scheme of things. Obviously to me it is very important because I'd rather know than not know. But like I said, such is not the case for most. There is a higher likelihood they will take offence or wonder why I am analysing such a small thing. In other words, I need to pick my battles. I need to think of ways to at least appear more in sync with the world if I am to not constantly collide with it, while keeping a space within myself to engage in what gives me true happiness.

You have humbled me

Bent me

Reduced me

To tears

But not so fast

I am not broken

And I have been

Bent to breaking point

Before and before

But I rose

And followed

The path of proving

What I am made of

I could have

Crumbled and died

Even now

An exhausted part

In me asked

Why go on

To be torn and rent and spent

By mediocre tribes

Who themselves have

So very little

To speak for themselves

Who dare

Evaluate me

But the other part

The one who never quits

Never gives up

Reminded me

Of when

I was bent

Before and many times before

And how I rose up

Soaring in the very faces

That looked down on me

And it was beneath me

Even to laugh

At these mediocrities

And now again

God brings me

To this brink

To this tiring path

Shall I give up

How many times do I

Keep proving, God?

Isn't it time finally

For my reward

But clearly not

For I must yet again

Choose

And deep down I know

I will stay on course

What if I have no reward

To motivate me

The thought

Of proving them wrong

Will carry me

They who think

I am down and out

Shall see me

Rise again

Beyond their

Feeble grasp

~Me

I engaged a Person A and a Person B for some contractual work in two different cultural contexts. The difference in the way they approached their jobs intrigued me. Even more so because Person A’s fees was around 50 pounds and Person B’s over 500. Obviously with Person B, my expectations were much higher and the job far more critical.

Person A’s approach I would describe as ‘personal’. She was actually trying to close a deal for me for more than a year now. Though the payment is based on a closed deal, the amount of effort she had to go through for over a year with deals going half-way and not materialising or falling through seemed to me far beyond what one would expect within the scope of such work. But not even once did she tell me that she was doing more than what she is expected to and not even once did she ask me for compensation during the year. In fact, she paid certain bills that I was due to pay without asking me to pay her first. Her attitude impressed me and made me think about the relationship I had with her in terms of trust rather than in terms of contractual agreement. I also thought to myself that I would pay her more than what we might have initially agreed. I suppose that’s how you feel when someone goes above and beyond.

Coming to Person B, the experience was exactly the opposite. I would describe the approach as ‘transactional’. Not going into much detail I would say that the focus here was on the number of hours worked or billed, and not on ensuring that the spirit of the contract, which was to deliver up to my standard, was honoured. To deliver in a way that it delights or makes the customer finally happy even if it means working more hours is what Person A did. That is my personal approach too because ultimately I am more concerned with the fact that my work is appreciated rather than that I am paid more. Many times I have even been gently scolded for this but I don’t think I would like to be like Person B. If anything, Person A made me see the merit of the personal approach even more clearly, to not count minutes and pennies... And even if one is looking at gain, I think Person A will always profit more in the long run because I will keep going to her and I will recommend her services to whoever will ask and I will be there for her should she need me for anything anytime. However, my first interaction with Person B is also my last. Short-term gain maybe, but long-term loss.

I am not a spontaneous person when it comes to action but sometimes I make up for it in communication with rather disastrous results. I lay much stock by directness and honesty but it seems to me it can take the shape of unkindness if I am not careful. Recently I made a comment on social media which later I couldn’t really justify to myself. This is strange because logic is sort of the spirit that animates whatever I say so it is rarely, if ever, that I can’t explain the logic of what I said. The logic may be open to contestation but it would still be logical from my perspective. In this case, I didn’t think what I said was all that logical if I saw it from a broader perspective—which I tend to do. But what’s more, it also seemed like an unkind statement to me. To say something illogical out of kindness would also be logical to me in a sense but to say something illogical and unkind… now that stumped me. One explanation could be that I have too many things on my mind these days and that perhaps caused me to not think through what I was saying.

Later someone responded to me to mind my own house first because they thought my statement had the same inconsistencies that I was pointing out unkindly. That wasn’t strictly true and I said as much but something about the exchange lingered in my mind… I pride myself on my ability to think critically but this made me ponder: 1. How can I develop a mode of critiquing that shows a sensitivity to human fallibilities including my own, and 2. Given that any piece of anything can potentially be critiqued in one way or another for something or the other, how do I direct my critique to the productive or progressive rather than merely corrective or irrelevant?

Like the ancient Romans commanded the words “Memento Mori” (“remember that you must die”) to be whispered into their ears to keep them grounded, so too I will whisper these words, “mind your own house first” to myself when I deploy my critique. I admire humility in others and this might be a way to incorporate some myself.

I didn’t realise it was THIS long since I have ignored the blog. I have been very preoccupied with something. I cannot say what it is but when it comes about you might be one of the first to know. Some of my previous posts refer to the “journey” I am on so to speak and I am navigating the twists and turns—in a positive way so far—is all I can say for now.

Recently when I was thinking about destiny, as I do, this Hindi kahawat (proverb) popped in my head: “daane daane pe likha hai khaane waale ka naam”. Meaning, on every grain of rice is written the name of the one who will eat it. As I contemplate whether certain grains of rice are going to come my way, I tell myself that it is already written, whether they will come or not. All I can do is to do my best and hope that the outcome is written in my favour. I have mentioned this before that the very thinking so or believing that it is in my favour could cause my actions to be better positioned for that outcome… which is why I hope for the best. Let’s see…

I chanced upon this short story Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes. I found it quite absorbing but more than that it touched me on an emotional level. It is about this young man, Charlie, who is intellectually underdeveloped and who is made a participant in a psychological experiment to exponentially increase intelligence. The entire story is in the form of “progress reports”, something like diary entries, that Charlie writes from the beginning of the experiment to the end. I do not want to get into the end in case you, dear reader, feel tempted to read this story for yourself. What I found really poignant is how his new-found intelligence makes Charlie see the world in a very different light. Simple as the story is, it actually made me think about how different cognitive capacities engage with and interpret the world, and how their ability to make sense of it in one way or another might cause them to experience life itself differently.

Here’s an excerpt:

"All right! All right, you dope," shouted the owner, "don't just stand there!

Get the broom and sweep that mess up. A broom… a broom, you idiot! It's in the kitchen. Sweep up all the pieces."

The boy saw that he was not going to be punished. His frightened expression disappeared and he smiled and hummed as he came back with the broom to sweep the floor. A few of the rowdier customers kept up the remarks, amusing themselves at his expense.

"Here, sonny, over here there's a nice piece behind you ..."

"C'mon, do it again ..."

"He's not so dumb. It's easier to break 'em than to wash 'em ..."

As his vacant eyes moved across the crowd of amused onlookers, he slowly mirrored their smiles and finally broke into an uncertain grin at the joke which he obviously did not understand.

I felt sick inside as I looked at his dull, vacuous smile, the wide, bright eyes of a child, uncertain but eager to please. They were laughing at him because he was mentally retarded.

And I had been laughing at him too.

Suddenly, I was furious at myself and all those who were smirking at him. I jumped up and shouted, "Shut up! Leave him alone! It's not his fault he can't understand! He can't help what he is! But for God's sake ... he's still a human being!"

The room grew silent. I cursed myself for losing control and creating a scene. I tried not to look at the boy as I paid my check and walked out without touching my food. I felt ashamed for both of us.

How strange it is that people of honest feelings and sensibility, who would not take advantage of a man born without arms or legs or eyes—how such people think nothing of abusing a man born with low intelligence. It infuriated me to think that not too long ago I, like this boy, had foolishly played the clown.

And I had almost forgotten.

I'd hidden the picture of the old Charlie Gordon from myself because now that I was intelligent it was something that had to be pushed out of my mind. But today in looking at that boy, for the first time I saw what I had been.

I was just like him!

Only a short time ago, I learned that people laughed at me. Now I can see that unknowingly I joined with them in laughing at myself. That hurts most of all.

I have often reread my progress reports and seen the illiteracy, the childish naïveté, the mind of low intelligence peering from a dark room, through the keyhole, at the dazzling light outside. I see that even in my dullness I knew that I was inferior, and that other people had something I lacked—something denied me. In my mental blindness, I thought that it was somehow connected with the ability to read and write, and I was sure that if I could get those skills I would automatically have intelligence too.

Even a feeble-minded man wants to be like other men.

A child may not know how to feed itself, or what to eat, yet it knows of hunger.

I was at Sainsbury's today to do my fortnightly "big shop" as they call it here. Yes, I know I have been referring to supermarkets, foods, etc. a lot these days but what with pandemic enforced living, it's not a surprise I assume? :) But to move on... I love grocery shopping in general (even before the pandemic ;)) and one of the things I enjoy is browsing through novel items. I usually pick one or two things that I haven't tried before, say a new variety of biscuit or chips (crisps here) or cheese or what have you. It's always a bit of a gamble-- either I'll find something I like so much that it will become part of my routine shop or I will hate it so much that I'll either force myself to eat it somehow or I'll reluctantly and guiltily throw it away. Today when I was picking something interesting and a bit on the expensive side, I was hit with a pang of anticipated guilt in case it's not to my taste. And then I thought to myself that I wouldn't be able to broaden my tastes or learn about new foods if I didn't take such risks. I decided to chalk up the expense to learning something new.

This led to a light bulb realisation. The more monetary risks I am able to afford, the more I am able to learn! Take for example starting a new venture and the learning that comes with it even if one fails or going for an expensive training programme, being okay with not making use of that knowledge. The more one is able to give oneself up to new experiences without worrying about the costs involved, the more one learns and the more one grows in that sense.

Of course, I don't mean to say this spending is the only path to learning. In fact, not having resources could mean one learns a completely different set of skills formidable in their own way. Creative problem solving, for example. One can't get something new easily so one tries to make creative use of what one already has. In this food context, maybe you make new dishes of stuff you have in the kitchen instead of buying something new.

Which brings me to another of my points. Because I have been brought up in a household and environment where we lived in relative austerity, where we learnt never to waste or throw away food, where we utilised things to the extent we could and found use for the leftovers even... It doesn't quite sit well with me to waste or discard anything and that is why I feel extremely guilty if I have to do it.

I have come to the conclusion though that neither extreme is good. To waste things indiscriminately without a second thought is not good and to be so hung up about conserving things that your enjoyment and pleasure doesn't count is also not good. I try to feel less guilty if I have to get rid of something that just doesn't give me any joy. I also try to use more discretion so I don't have to waste or get rid of anything, and if I have to, then I give some thought to possible uses before I do it. It never feels easy on my conscience to waste or throw or discard.

Interestingly, it strikes me that the two ways in which learning occurs that I just put forward can be distilled to abundance or scarcity with regard to money. Suggests the kind of times we live in?