Identity crisis

Human identity is the most fragile thing that we have,and it's often only found in moments of truth - Alan Rudolph

~~~~~~~~~

This definition has kept changing throughout my life. Since my childhood days, I've been trying to keep my identity unique. Everybody wants to be different, wants to look different, to think different, to speak different, even to the extent of being completely different from the own surroundings.

The more you run from your values and culture, more they'll haunt you. And once you embrace your values close to your heart, all looks so serene and peaceful.

I am no different from others in this respect. When i used to go to school, I had some values which marked me different from others while some values resembles too. Born and brought up in a village, it became a matter of continuous struggle for me to prove others wrong that villagers were not illiterate.  First thought that may come to your mind at this stage or may not, but it used to be the stereotypical expression of the most that I would quit the school soon after my fifth grade. At least that was how my friends had thought about me and put me in a position to always defend my identity as a school-going kid; not a dropout working in a paddy field. Circumstances changed and brought a change to my thinking too when i left that school after tenth grade to take non medical stream for higher education. Some looked upon me with sympathy for coming to tutions from so far in chilled january mornings and some were just amused to see a kid from a village. I am right now and have been pretty sure during all these years that i look no different from other boys in my surroundings. I used to wear the same clothes as other boys, same colors like others did with some subtle differences in my accent of dialogues.

My introduction to others also keep changing with every step ahead in my life. When i joined college for my bachelors, it changed to the city Amritsar. Now i was not a big-headed fool from a village anymore. Except a very few friends, for the most I was guy just like others from Amritsar, with a little accent in their Punjabi and fond of kulchas. Those four years were different because some looked upon me with envy because of so many coaching centers in our city, which according to them helped me secured a seat in electrical stream. Yet I was just another guy from a good city for the most of the flock. It all changed again when it came to introduce myself again in New Delhi. A good part of my team was constituted by the southerners, so Punjab was enough to distinguish me from the group. Time went well for me and i made a good reputation in my small group. That reputation built up the perception for others from my state or city to be good in work too. Lived few years with reputed perception and moved on for more.

Becoming a mask for a country with more than a billion population wasn't very exciting. The identity of my village, the city and the state were long and far gone, it became a matter of country. The luck was favoring me this time, the once called big-headed fool from a village was paid all the attention being an international student from a country, known for her dominance in producing the most sharp brains and geeks in world. I enjoyed every bit of attention, but sometimes it's too heavy to keep it on your shoulders all the time. Some moments spent shrugging off this burden were memorable, doing the things not so methodically as were expected from you had given me some joyous moments. Now since I have left my previous identities far behind, sometimes i miss them. A simple student in college from yet another city, a simple kid in school trying to fight for an identity crisis which had never existed anyway and so much more of nostalgia is attached to these souvenirs from the past.

Yet it had been a good journey always being in a majority with very few moments facing the wrath of isolation. Everyone has to climb up this arduous path to bring glory to yourself and to your identity. Your identity never meant being an individual, it means a lot more than you. An identity is a mask of whole community and your actions are perceived as the cultural values of your community. Those who are wise enough never fell into this trap created by the society, rather they look for wisdom in their own thoughts to mock an individual or the whole society for one's actions.

Being wheatish..

The first thought that comes to your mind will be is this post related to color, caste or race. A straight NO should fit perfectly in your mind, as this post has nothing to do with such things. Weekend was here and i wanted to make something special to eat. Weekends are always special here with all the work related worries gone for a moment. I always look forward for this lovely weekends to try some new dish, and this time it was 'ROTI'. You got it very right, the same roti which is mentioned for so many various purposes. For a larger proportion, it's a simple mean of eating a meal to satisfy their physical needs. Others use it as a propaganda for their political motives, some use it to attract the middle class for Bollywood by inserting this word in various dialogues, songs and movies (Remember "roti kapada aur makaan" or  "do waqt ki roti"). Though these days even lower middle class is not very reciprocative to this filthy slang. Reverting our attention on the heading again, i was not trying to make some extra-unique dish with roti. To accept the fact, I haven't eaten a simple wheat roti for last five months and eighteen days. Yes, the same tasteless roti which you might be munching right now reading this post (I wish your screen breaks apart into pieces if you're doing so).

To make this dream of eating roti this weekend, i pulled out the bag of wheat flour from the bottom racks. I remember not so vividly though, i had got this bag for $10 from the gorcery store within first week after arriving to US. A new place, new habits of eating pastas, salads, pizzas, burgers and loads of rice with my Indian friends. Most of the Indians here are from the southern part of India so it's not very unusual eating rice in almost every meal. After that I got busy with my course work and other office chors that i almost forgot about this pile of flour in the kitchen rack. A thin layer of dust had deposited over the bag, i did little dusting before opening it with the knife, the smell and stuff looked so familiar. It brought back those memories of complaining while eating this same wheat everyday, a place where rice were used to be cooked only on special occasions and burgers were not eaten more than twice in a year (birthdays and school result's celebrations :-P )

Yellow daal was to be served with the roti, so i managed to put the daal for cooking in a pressure cooker (Hawkins, exported from India, is the only brand you could see in every south asian student's place). Splashing the flour over the table while making it ready for cooking, it filled me with a sense of excitement. I was actually excited to eat a roti for the first time in this not-so-short span of 24 years or so. I had seen countless times at my home, that hot stream of air coming out of cooked wheat flour and was expecting the same while cooking it. I put it on flame for around a minute, yet no air came out and it was still sticking to the flame. I put the other side on flame just to see the front side giving brownish fumes, extra heating could a a reason, i guess. Somehow i managed not to overcook the other side as well. Finally i was ready to eat this roti with one side over-cooked and other half cooked. Luckily daal didn't spoil the party-mood and came out as expected with little less salt. When i tried to pluck one part of roti, the inner portion got exposed and it didn't take much time for me to understand that the sticky flour inside was not cooked properly. I managed to eat it without any delay, because i didn't want it lose its little softness getting dried up. The tongue's bud has enough of this wheat, making me realize its the same tasteless wheat roti. Eating it after such a long time, after dozens of frozen paranthas, few dried tortillas, frozen wheat stuff, it is undoubtedly the best chunk i have ever eaten in last six months. I sit down on my chair, relaxing eating and enjoying every bit of it. Just finished eating my first roti in last six months.

The first moment when after eating this tasteless wheat, I am actually feeling "Happy"..

"S" making a buzz !!

Few days ago, i was fed up with my routine of attending my lab for most of the day and rest spent in sleeping. So badly i wanted to change it that i would do anything for the sake of 'change'. I paid up for the charges apart from tuition fees last week, and was regretting to pay $100 for the recreation center which would not be visited more than once in a week. My friend suggested," Why don't you accompany me for swimming since i am going to start practicing from the tomorrow." To be frank, swimming was never made for me and to me, it was god's gift to very few who could swim in those deep waters. I was rather content watching it on National Geography than to experience it myself. I nodded to the plan and brought the swimming glasses next evening. I never knew chlorinated waters could be so harmful for the eyes. I was amazed to see the count of young girls and boys at the pool center, yet reluctantly i entered one empty lane of pool which was 5 feet deep. Few tips were already passed on to me. First day as always was different, i couldn't learn much as expected from me though i have erased the term hydrophobia from my dictionary.

After practicing for 45 minutes, i (with my friend) went to the "whirlpool". It was a pool with flowing currents of water in a circular manner, so if anybody know swimming, all you need is to float and rotating waters will take you with the stream. Guys were really enjoying there and sure it was a fun to dive into the rotating stream trying to float. It was followed by a shower in giant tub of hot water spring and then "sauna". This word i heard it for the first time ever. With nice tracks played in the background, a sea built indoor with every imagined pool, big heaters warming up the place all the time, splashing of water in the pool-volleyball; May be that's the reason why they call it a land of abundance. Even on a weekend, when very few would come for the swimming, you could see those warm currents of water, splashing whirlpool with nobody there. I feel sorry for this nation for wasting so much energy in this leisurely acts, at a time when rest of the world (including US) is running out of resources.

Getting up early so as to reach lab in time, working till 5pm and then rushing to the recreation center. Nothing really happening over my research project these days, these are the moments i look forward to, else in a routine not worth-mentioning. I am sure with my previous experiences of fun-frolic days that it won't last so long. After few days, the fun-factor would be missing, still i'll continue for leaning.

For the time being, Study>>Swimming>>Sauna>>Sleep>>Study and so on...

Social media; a fad or revolution?

Social media has expanded its network in no-time and has outreached the capacity of any imaginative thinking. It started almost a decade ago with few networking sites launching their platforms on internet for ordinary people to interact in a more casual manner than e-mails. Among those few remained a hit while others were wiped out in this giant wave of social networking. In terms of real success, Orkut was the first networking site though it took sometime to mark its presence in the new roaring age of internet. Personally too, it was my first experience of being in this new lime-light of social media, where you can reach far out to the outer world. I made the most of it by opening account on it, later shifting to the blogger to give a vent to my feelings into the outer world. I still remember refreshing my homepage again and again to see some new update on my scrapbook, roaming on to the scrapbooks of others; some were clapping with happiness while others fuming with disappointment. It looked as if everyone had got in a relationship with the social media, a personal space of your anonymity expressing your thoughts in your very own way, giving a very little importance to what others would think of you. It became a voice for voiceless, a source of power for the weak and backbone for the spineless human.

When some thought it might be the end for this new fad of social media, networking sites like Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn gave it a new meaning. It explored a new dimension of people, a new media to interact for all levels of communication, It suited every age-group; from a teenager looking for his/her crush to older ones trying to reunite with their batch-mates and family spread across the world. With six months,the number of Facebook users surpassed the population of majority of nations. It became a new tool for the industries to market their product and giving the real insight to the reviews of same product for the consumer market as well. A brand become a synonym to one's lifestyle and showing off your new gadget could set you apart from the bunch of ordinary men and women. With the expansion of this era, more companies started pouring in this new business with a wide set of ideas and culture values. Invention of new applications converged all sources of information to just few websites. Surfing on these websites for few hours will make you feel like visiting some community fair, discussing and exchanging your ideas with people from entirely different backgrounds. To listen to some song, i prefer surfing Facebook rather than YouTube. Companies who couldn't afford a separate chain for marketing their products got a new media much more efficient and powerful than its outdated counter-part. Some firms made millions of dollar using it wisely by reaching out to its customers while others were dusted from the market for not giving due attention to its customer-care chain.

The author has put it so lucidly to define its importance in present marketing world : From Social Media to Social Strategy.

Blog shifted to new website

Hello Guys,

The blog has been shifted to a new website i.e http://aseemrambani.org/.

Hope you will like it.

Thanks.

Aseem Rambani

Baba: the black sheep?

Swami Ramdev has taken over the command from Anna Hazare to continue the protest againt corruption. The Indian economy has been reeling under this monstrous corruption since british left it in 1947 following the financial losses incurred by UK in second world war. Everybody had a dream to live, to breathe, to rejoice in a fresh air free from all the impurities. Before we realized, this monster had taken charge over the minds of many, that very few were left to fight against this corruption. Many generations came and went unnoticed, some tried to wipe it out but before they could contribute a little to their sacred land, it was time to leave.

Anna hazare got the limelight when he started his fast till death to pass Jan lokpal bill in Indian constitution. People got an opportunity to raise their voice in an unequivocal manner against corruption, and it succeeded to some extent as well. A swami famous for his yoga teachings cured many of his followers from ailing and chronic diseases. People worshiped him for saving their lives all across the land. In a corner, he was also watching all this drama getting unfold and thought why not contribute his part to this crusading protest against corruption. People unaware of his little political understanding started following him without giving any real thought to its aftermath. The problem arose due to the complications in a democratic world where the laws are meant to be passed through the cabinet, but not through blackmail-ism by some ordinary men. He thought of taking undue advantage of his iconic stature to address some real issues in a deplorable manner.  Nevertheless his fan following rose to higher levels with each passing moment. At the same time, he was also criticized for his uncanny and arrogant manners towards his disciples. Foul-mouthed swami asked for banning 500-1000 rupee notes, proposing the education model should be in regional language taking away the only reason (English language) of unity among all citizens. With some more hatred speeches against government, he asked for making a militia of armed men.

Is it really justified for a yoga teacher to talk about militia of armed men? Even he felt helpless so he went against his own words very next day. A school drop-out (8th grade, to be exact) is asking the countrymen to follow him for passing the political laws to save the country from corruption. The governments over the past few decades has left no chance for ordinary and uneducated icons of our country, but to rise against this evil practice. The cause is genuine, very honest and purposeful but the means are as impure as this practice of corruption. Please think about it before joining this mass protest, whether your voice against the government is putting the individual freedom and democratic rights in a jeopardy or not?

A call from Chandigarh

The slow instrumental national anthem started playing with the blinking red LED, the calling number, though unexpected, was quite familiar with the initial code of 0172 (Chandigarh's STD code). I was surrounded with two lab mates, both Americans, so i didn't show even a little hesitation in answering the call as the next some talks would be either in hindi or punjabi language. From the other side came a swift "Hello (with that accented sign of exclamation after it), I am John calling from Credit union bank to serve you in a better way." I was moved by the unexpected tone, i pushed my chair a bit towards the window pane the leaves were fresh after the last night's rain, reminding me of beautiful weather of Chandigarh. Next few minutes went talking just like conversing to some monotonous machine. I randomly asked if he could mail me the statements for past week. He nodded affirmative before putting my call on hold to grab a pencil to note down the email id. "Oye pencil sutt de idhar ek, Sir, would you mind repeating your mail id again", said in a single tone and i was mesmerized. I asked," bhaji mil gayi pencil ?". There was a reason to laugh for both of us.

A call from Chandigarh

The slow instrumental national anthem started playing with the blinking red LED, the calling number, though unexpected, was quite familiar with the initial code of 0172 (Chandigarh's STD code). I was surrounded with two lab mates, both Americans, so i didn't show even a little hesitation in answering the call as the next some talks would be either in hindi or punjabi language. From the other side came a swift "Hello (with that accented sign of exclamation after it), I am John calling from Credit union bank to serve you in a better way." I was moved by the unexpected tone, i pushed my chair a bit towards the window pane the leaves were fresh after the last night's rain, reminding me of beautiful weather of Chandigarh. Next few minutes went talking just like conversing to some monotonous machine. I randomly asked if he could mail me the statements for past week. He nodded affirmative before putting my call on hold to grab a pencil to note down the email id. "Oye pencil sutt de idhar ek, Sir, would you mind repeating your mail id again", said in a single tone and i was mesmerized. I asked," bhaji mil gayi pencil ?". There was a reason to laugh for both of us.