The Measure of Things

Despite my rant about money, I cannot but acknowledge that money is the most convenient and the most obvious measure for worldly success.

Just like marks (read grades) are the measure for intelligence. Just like the duration of a marriage is a measure for the love between the couple. Just like the beauty of a woman is measured by the number of men who desire her. Just like the worth of a painter is measured by the price his work commands.

If there were no readymade measures to assess the chaotic world that we live in, how would simple minded folks ever get by?

Measures are a necessary evil alright. But there are things beyond measure, where the human capacity to measure becomes subjective, and depends upon the viewers perspective. And often times, the measure that the world provides, such as money, grades etc falls short, woefully short. Thats just me, I guess. For most others, what the world provides as measures is good enough.

It is not the worlds fault that I have a wacky perspective of things. I am a dork. And I shall continue being so. And will continue paying a price for being so.

Dork. Dork. Dork.

Entitled to a Woman

(Image from the Internet)

Over the past weeks, I have met several young people of both genders, none of them married. I met some of them with their parents, who worry incessantly about finding the right life partner for their offspring. This is so typically Indian. Education, marriage and sometimes even a home, Indian parents want to do it all for their children, sometimes even at the cost of their own well-being and material pleasure.

I understand where these parents come from, though I do not like it. Afterall, I am one of them too. However, this note is not from the viewpoint of the parents, but from the young people's.

Young girls really really chafe about the fact that the men they would marry, as arranged by their parents, would be on the basis of the young man's education, the economic status of their home, the status in the society and so on. Not on the basis of whether they find these men attractive, like minded-ness etc, and sometimes even without these two qualities. The way the girl feels about the boy she would sleep with, and spend the rest of her life with, is expected to evolve - positively - post marriage.

On the other hand, young men feel no such trepidation. Young men, if they have been lucky enough to be born to affluent parents who have managed to give them good education and a good home, feel almost entitled to any girl their parents line up for them. It does not even OCCUR to them that the young girl, who is trading in her life, may not like him. And he does not care. He assumes that she would like him, and in most cases, love him. However, he would make no effort whatsoever to be worthy of her love. The reason for this is the fact that young boys in India have no clue how to behave with a girl. Also, this mechanism of parents arranging for the girls, makes it very convenient to ignore this touchy feelie territory. So, he sits back, and either chooses/rejects the girls his parents line up for him. He is entitled to his wife. Afterall, he is a male.

The arranged marriage relationship, no wonder, seems so awful to most young girls. The girls of the current generation - and truth be told, even the previous ones - do not like men who feel "entitled" to them. They would like to be woo-ed, won over, charmed and all the romantic things that their sensuous nature demands.

The Indian society, however, is not equipped to create such boys/men. And indian women have no alternative other than indian men in their geographies. No wonder, the indian marriage events are so huge, with parents creating a big smoke cover, to hide the inconvenient truth from the bride. Once married, the great indian system also provides no real exits for the girl. She is the one who will carry the burden of making the marriage work, ensuring all the needs of her husband are taken care of, his relationships are in place, and so is his house and children. The indian male focusses on being the provider, and nothing else. In case she fails to make the marriage work, she would be ostracized forever by the society. It really does not matter that her husband is a drunkard, or a insensitive lout, or simply someone who she cannot get along with, she is expected to carry the yoke without a murmur, as divorce is a ugly ugly word. The man, on the other hand, stands effortlessly on his impregnable citadel of patriarchy, and enjoys his entitlement of this woman he has married. Without making any effort to be the man of his bride would like him to be, and to treat her the way she would like to be treated. In most cases, the man would not have spared a single brain cycle on thinking about what his wife wants.

This entitlement system sucks.

The Sixth Sense

It seems to me that I lack one of the essential senses that is needed in the modern world to survive and thrive - a sixth sense of sorts. Of Money.

I am unable to sense how much does something costs, in terms of money. Unable to sense the value of something, in terms of money. I can only sense the pleasure/loss/pain from my five sensory senses and my emotions, which was probably adequate in some antiquated time, when money was not currency for every worldly thing.

Money by itself gives me no pleasure. Nor does losing it give me a sense of pain. What matters to me is the way I get pleasure when I buy an experience through money, or face pain by an emotional hurt when either a experience is denied to me since I did not have money, or the distress I feel when I am cheated out of it by someone I loved and trusted. When I cause someone else's money to be lost or used, either due to my bad advice or judgement, I feel an enormous amount of guilt though. None of that happens when I am blow up or gamble away my own money. It is as if I excuse myself with impunity of the bad decisions/judgement I make on money which is my own. I don't give myself the same immunity of excuse when dealing with others money. It is almost the other way around with people.

I do know what money means, but in abstract terms, not in visceral ones. Coming as I do from a "marwadi" family, my non-visceral understanding of money is a severe disadvantage. Everyone I meet professionally, expects me to be well versed with money matters. Specially my own, and also specifically so since I am an entrepreneur, supposedly someone who only credo is making money. I am an entrepreneur alright, but my credo is my work, my vision of what I am trying to create, my art if one can call it that - and I wish to make money through that. Not by any other means, but in the only way I respect of making money, by creating an artistic value, by creating something that is beautiful and functional both. I am idealistic enough (foolish enough, I call that in moments of sanity) to believe that money will come, if I create some experience that appeals to at least one of the senses for my potential customers and clients. Money by itself is not the end, the enhanced experience that I create for my customers and clients is. The only reward that I crave for.

I have often been cheated by fellow professionals and so called business partners, who assume that I must have taken care of my money first and foremost. They assume a certain money sense in me, and with impunity cheat me out of money that I trust with them. They assume that I would have gotten value out of them before I give money to them. Not so. I normally give money for value that I expect in the future. I have no other protection against thievery, other than a child like faith that the person I trust will abide by the emotion of trust I have placed with him. Consequently, I lose not only my money, but my trust and emotions as well. Its happened to me several times, this brazen misappropriation of my trust. Unfortunately, despite trying, I am not able to have a adequate perspective about money.

When others give me money for whatever reason, it weighs me down, and binds my soul. I am wary about accepting dinner invites, gifts from people, and even taking money for work rendered. I feel indebted to people who give me money - earned, reciprocated, bestowed, inherited - the reason for my having taken the money does not matter. In most cases, I have earned it. But still, if someone has given me money, I feel indebted to him/her for life. I then work my darndest to repay the debt, but though the money is perhaps paid back in full measure, I can't get over the feeling of being indebted. I can try gifting stuff back, inviting people over and over again to pay back their food debt, give stuff to them that I love and cannot bear to part with in desperation of the debt I feel, sometimes even money that I cannot afford to give - but there is no escaping from the feeling. I feel weighed down. Forever.

On the other hand, I hold no such expectations when I give money. That is given in love, with hope and with trust. In fact, I have issues in making people do things for tasks I have given money for. I find my employees cheating me, my maids cheating me, my partners pilfering money from customer accounts, and though all of this makes me really mad, I do not find that morally reprehensible, which it is.

I am just plain weird about money.

Nation of Pretenders

India is a nation of pretenders. Make Belief folks. Who go through life playing a role. Showing themselves to be something to the world which they are not. Focusing on the showing, rather than the doing.

Leaders who pretend to govern - but in reality, only interested in stuffing their own pockets with public money.

Students who pretend to learn - but in reality, only interested in passing the exam and getting a certificate which says they have learnt.

Workers pretending to work - but in reality, only marking time till the time-to-go-home bell chimes

Musicians pretending to make music - but in reality, only repeating their pitiful horde of 10 tunes

Fathers pretending to be caregivers - but in reality, only controlling their wife and children like chattels

Software developers pretending to be skilled - but in reality, only building their CV and not their skill set

Entrepreneurs pretending to run businesses - but in reality, only using their connections and greasing palms to get business

Women pretending to be equal partners - but in reality, refusing to part with a single penny to run the household

Actors pretending to be artists - but in reality, being just pretty faces with no capability to emote


As it is said in Hindi - Haathi ke danth, khane ke aur, aur dikhane ke aur. Pretenders - so many of them! Yes, there are a few genuine folks, but they are so so few, lamentably so.

The Panch Kanya's

Reading about the Panch Kanya's. Five Young Wondrous Girls. Kunti, Draupadi, Mandodari, Tara and Ahiyla.

Kanya's are not virgins, as popular interpretation of the word Kanya would have us believe. These are women, rather maidens, who have earned the right to desire.

Strange right. Doesn't everyone have a right to desire, you ask. Yes, everyone can desire. But for women, typically their desires are circumcised by the patriarchy.

Not for the Panch Kanyas. For them, the universe is a supplicant, forced to give them whatever it is that they desire. Uncircumcised. They do not take "No" for an answer. Fate, time or Karma cannot deny their desire. They have been bestowed this right by the dint of their actions and their conduct in their lives, and yes, their persistence of getting their due, no matter what the world says.

It is said that worshiping them, or by simply remembering them, makes a devotee achieve Nirvana. Actually, beyond Nirvana. Nirvana is expected to be this place where a being has no desire at all. For the Panch Kanya's, they are beings with only desire. Because, what must have come before this world? The makers desire to make this world. Desire comes even before time. Kanya's are beings in that realm.

None of these women are worshiped in temples. Unlike the numerous women goddesses or Shaktis - Durga Ma, Kali Ma, Parvati, Sita, Radha, the list is large - almost every household has its own goddess, its own Shakti. Sometimes the Shakti's are worshiped by themselves, or with their consorts, Shiva, Ram, Krishna, manifestations of the masculine.

But the Panch Kanya's have no male consorts. They are just themselves, just women who are pure desire. Who need to be worshiped for just themselves, without any reference to the men in their lives, without any male consort. Women who stand alone. Only the sacred fierce feminine.

They revel in their desire, nothing being out of bounds for them. Opulence, beauty, glory, their place in the sun, pleasure - including sexual pleasure. These are free women who desire, and get it. Contrast this with the Sati-Savitri women, who desire nothing other than the happiness and glory for their husbands, fathers or brothers. These maidens want it for themselves, for their own pleasure, following their own rules. They go beyond the rules of world, the demands of motherhood, and their familial duties. They affirm themselves, needing no affirmations that is external to them.

They are the ones who have given everything to men in their lives, and have found them falling short. They have then decided to take what is due to them by their own hands. They are women who are survivors and winners in the world of men. They have, at some time, loved a man, got him, given their heart, soul, counsel, nurturing everything their feminine nature could do - and have been disappointed by him. Men have not been enough for them. They have relied on themselves and their God, and have got what they wanted. They have not forgiven the world of men, for falling short, and are always constantly reminding them of it.

Such women are what constitute the Panch Kanya's. And the universe ultimately bends in face of such persistence, and gives their desires to them, acknowledging that the world of men is not good enough for such women.

Who are these women?

Draupadi, the wife of the mighty Pandavas. The one who could not be protected by her mighty husbands, or the wise elders.

Kunti, the mother of the three Pandavas, wife of Pandu. The one who slept with other men to give her husband the sons he needed, but found him to be wanting in love, desire and regard for her.

Tara, the wife of the Monkey Kings, Bali and Sugriv. The one married the other to keep the peace when one disappeared, and then on his reappearance, had to once again be won by one by the brothers, while ensuring her son got his due.

Ahilya, the wife of the Gautam Rishi, a steadfast woman. The one who was cursed by a abusive jealous husband, for no fault of hers. Deceived by the cunning and disguise of a deva, and let down by a husband, who was wise, but not in the matters of the heart or even his wife.

Mandodari, the wise wife of the mighty demon king, Ravana. The one who could look beyond the current strength and might of her husband, and recognize the wrong actions of her husband, and tries very hard to protect him from himself. The one who had wisdom and righteousness to call out a deed a wrong one, even when the one who is doing is wrong is not only mighty, but a dearly loved one too.

Point of No Return

There are times in ones life when one reaches a point of no return. When the emotional, financial and time investment is so much that one cannot walk away. Even when the risks of moving ahead are staring at ones face. Even when the chances of success are mind-bogglingly slim. But one is too involved, and has no choice but to keep moving ahead.

On the other hand, at the point of no return, the cost of walking away is more than the cost of staying. And when the risk of staying is less than the risk of walking away.

It is terrifying, paralyzing, agonizing. This point of no return.

But strangely liberating. To know that one needs to do what one has to do regardless of the results. If one wants to live with oneself in the other breaths that follow this one.

I grit my teeth, take a deep breath and square my shoulders, and I tell myself to take the next step. And I do. And the next step. And the next one. And the next. And I just keep walking. Walking on and on and on.

Being Worthy

Today, I rededicate my life to being worthy of life.

To be able to live life the way it is right. For me, and my loved ones.

To be able to justify the expenses in ecological and economic terms - of living on this earth.

To be worthy of my parents love and their nurturing.

At the end of it all, it should be worth it - not just for myself, but for my parents, first and foremost, for my family,for my friends, for my professional team mates, for this Earth - that I lived and breathed for a few years and was a part of their life.

May I have the resolve (my Achilles heel) and inner strength to stay the course I chart out for myself.