Inspired to Awesomeness

Recently, someone asked me what I’m looking for in a partner and I said, “I want to be inspired.” There was a moment of silence followed by “Hmm.” And I get it. It’s probably an unusual requirement, and hard to quantify or even discern. But put simply, an inspiring person is someone who can make us more fantastic than we already are.

Inspiration is that little jolt of energy that, even after 14 hour days, makes you want to jump up, do a few backflips, leap off a cliff, take a 200 foot plunge into icy waters and ask the question, “why not?” They are molecules of courage that, when concentrated through a channel (a song, a person, a philosophy), become a potent mix of heady belief and a sense of invincibility. You hopefully have the tools needed to convert those molecules into electricity that makes the mundane fascinating, a train ride into a 7-part bestselling book, a bath into one of the most enduring principles of physics. Once you are inspired, all your relationships draw from it, all your productive output drinks from that oasis of energy. The down side? It doesn’t come from within you and constantly needs to be replenished. You can appreciate it, but you can’t create it – not for yourself. You can just be the channel for someone else’s inspiration. And someone / something else needs to be the channel for you.

If you look at your “things I want in my boyfriend/husband” list over the years, you’ll see that there were things that inspired you. When you were a teenager, you’d probably put down things like cute smile, should be like Brad Pitt (or whoever else rocked your boat from a movie screen), good in sports. That list quickly changed to incorporate requirements of owning a motorbike (a big one, not the 100cc puny stuff), should be able to hold his drink and be able to have a conversation that spans Nietzsche’s philosophy to the perfect combination of pizza toppings. And have a cute smile. Then the bike became a swanky car, should have many friends, and being able to pay bills (dinner, rent, EMIs) became important. The importance of Nietzsche was lost to the inspired ability to make us laugh. Brad Pitt was forgotten in favor of “should have a decent body” (After all, we were no Angelina Jolie *smirk*). Oh, and the cute smile.

But as we grow older, amidst the debris of unachieved ambitions, shattered faith and pounding biological clocks, our energy jolt decreases in potency and our list becomes more realistic, less fanciful (and closer to what we think we’re likelier to get) until soon, it starts to read like a laundry list of deal breakers. Shouldn’t embarrass us in public, should have a job that pays okay, should not cheat on us (definitely no more than once). In the midst of all these compromises that we call reality checks, it becomes harder for us to tap into that dwindling shot of electricity that will make us better, brighter, more fantastic than we already are.

And the truth is – like most people, I’m not that fantastic. I’m kinda bright, sorta talented, have an interesting imagination, maybe even cute. That last one probably won’t last for much longer anyway and I can only hope that three out of four ain’t so bad on somebody’s list. Not just anybody, by the way. It's gotta be the somebody who makes my list. Otherwise it's just two people at dinner, one looking adoringly and the other wondering if the toilet window is big enough to let them escape. But with the right person? "Not that fantastic" changes into "Awe-fucking-some".

So make a list. A new one. Write down all the things that would inspire you. Mine would probably include things such as an above average IQ, understands what it means to look after and genuinely care about another person and doesn't shirk the responsibility that's inherent in that, an ability to empathize and be kind, passion and ambition for what he does. And a cute smile. As lists go, not bad at all.

Then be prepared to throw out that list because what you want may not necessarily be what you need. And because inspiration has been known to reside in left field and creep up when least expected. In reality, it could very well be encased in the homeless man who sits next to you on the train. Or the guy who's always around to help you out of a jam. Who knows? Whatever be the case, and whoever be the channel, I think it’s important to hold out for that person who makes us look at a sheer drop of 300 feet, finger that thin elastic band around our waist and say, "Why not?" to an adventure.

Everything else is just details. Except the smile. That's non-negotiable.

The Marriage Market

“If it doesn’t take, there’s always divorce,” she said, trying to be reassuring. My mom and I were discussing her recent foray into the world of ‘motherliness’ which seems to include the need to get her children married off. Thankfully, my brother had managed to do this all by himself, and here I was, the only unmarried sibling in my massive, scattered yet connected family. The main problem? I wasn’t showing any inclination towards marriage. Nobody dared ask me directly, but whispers abounded at all family celebrations as siblings started producing the regulation kids. The common refrain was, “So, is Searcher planning to marry?”

The truth is – I’ve never known anyone give a satisfactory answer to my question, “Why?” Why should I get married? Why is it important? Way back when, marriage used to be a way of uniting two kingdoms, making them more powerful and more immune to attacks. Then, in an increasingly puritanical society, it became the way for men to have sex legitimately (and perhaps more regularly?) and women to be financially secure and of course, sport pregnancy bellies without the shame of the ‘unholy act of sex’.

And now, here we are. Single women hold jobs, adopt kids, buy their own exotic vacations. Men and women have sex whenever they feel like it (given ideal conditions which usually include alcohol, bad judgment and a corner to call your own), and pregnant bodies stand proud on covers of lifestyle magazines.

So again, why marriage? Why should one deal with in-laws, questions like ‘should you be drinking so much?’ and ‘when will you have children’, the sense of guilt and obligation when it comes to sex or shared holidays, the co-owning of property, the stresses of limits on expenses and space… And if you have the escape hatch of “divorce” within reach, then why even bother?

My mom’s reaction? “Screw all that, I’m gonna find you a boy,” she decided and then she went on a determined online hunt for a suitable mate.

And I don’t get it. I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do under these circumstances. I meet the suitables, get a drink with them, have a fun conversation, discover that they’re interesting in their own right, and go home. My mother’s refrain – “Who knows? You might meet someone interesting” – means nothing because every person is interesting, if you have enough time. What does that have to do with deciding to wake up next to them every morning for the rest of your life, splicing your DNA with theirs to create a unique person whom you worry about for the rest of your life and taking their word for why the Xbox isn’t a suitable investment?

Don’t get me wrong. I love marriage. I love the fact that two people get together and decide that “for better or worse, I’m always going to be better with you than without.” But living with and loving another human being is hard. Just when you think you have it figured out, they change and so do you. The rules change. Priorities change. And as the years go by, it becomes harder because as more time passes, you discover more things you don’t like about them or you or the relationship. All those things you love become tainted with all those things that could be so much better.

And the only thing that can get you through it? The truly heartbreaking irrationally passionate love for who you are when you're with them. That the real stuff movies are made of, the stuff for which you forgive a messy bathroom and clumsy social skills in your partner. Because they make you awesome. How do you find that love or create that relationship out of thin cyber-air where you're clearly checking off the pre-requisites in meetings that are testing if there are enough "overlaps of interest"?

But in the increasing clamour of some kind of closure on the “loose end” status of my life, and the echoes of how passion fades and love isn't everything, I ask myself if I’ve got it wrong, if this isn’t what it’s all about.

As I brooded on the possibility that I was mistaken and that marriage (apparently to the first suitable person who helps you paint your front door blue) is the ultimate goal, I happened upon small film clips of Steve Jobs’s wisdom. He said, albeit in another context but I’ll use it here, “Amidst the noise of all the people telling you that what you believe is wrong, trust your intuition. Your intuition already knows the person you want to be in the future and will take you there. Never settle for less than that.”

And what does my intuition tell me? Wait for it. It will come.

(If not, Steve will have a lot to answer for)

An Open Letter

Dear Fellow Worldizens Who Occupy the Third Rock from the Sun,

Many of you have often asked me what it’s like being the seven billionth person born on this planet and my usual response is, not any different than I suppose it was being the six billionth. Ofcourse, if we’re comparing with the seven thousandth person, and you’re holding a gun to my head, I’d say there are a few things that are different.

Take for example, the idea of space. No, not the outer space kind of space, just the ‘let me move my arms and not hit someone in the face’ kind of space. So maybe I’m exaggerating, but there are one-room houses where seventeen people live. Honestly, if the whole idea was to cover the face of the planet with people (why that would be the goal for any species remains a mystery, but I’m sure you’ll explain it), I would have gone with spreading out the number we already have. I would NOT have waited to bring me into the picture. But then, what do I know? I just got here.

Of course, I’m sure you guys have figured out the optimum way of life over the last millions of years you have been around and have come to the inescapable conclusion that the more of us there are, the better it is. It’s probably because we have the most ecological lifestyles in the world or even that our intra-species relationships are more harmonious and loving than any other out there. Divorce, genocide, torture.. yep, we are clearly setting an example for every other species out there, right? In the same vein, I’m also pretty sure you’ve figured out why we don’t really need those pesky trees and all those animals, and how it’s better for all concerned to instead find them on our walls, in our soups or in our vehicles.

Jokes aside, I’m pretty sure I’ll like it here. With the removal of those acres of green trees, I do have space where I can build my brick and concrete highrise to protect me from the animals we have slaughtered and the weather that we have changed. I mean, I get it. Who wouldn’t want extreme climate fluctuations as part of their daily lives? They do say ‘may you be born in interesting times’, right? And, if it gets too hot or too cold, we have central airconditioning. There is the little matter of the water crisis, energy crisis, pollution crisis, economic crisis, political crises, etc that may make central air conditioning impossible to sustain, but I’m sure you also have a plan for that.

One thing that bothers me is this: with half the population unemployed, and businesses becoming increasingly hard to sustain given our depleting natural resources and rising poverty, I’m wondering why you didn’t stop at three billion or even three million people. It looks like that number would have managed to do all the things well that seven billion of us are finding increasingly hard to do.

I hope you don’t consider me impertinent about asking these questions. It’s just that over the next few decades, while I forage for food, burn the huge amounts of paper you called currency to get some heat and deal with tsunami-sized natural disasters, I don’t want to let you down in this Age of Aquarius of Healing and Fulfilling ones’ Destiny. In short, I do want you to know that I’m finally doing everything I was born to do, in this future you worked so hard to achieve.

Warmest Regards,

Human Occupant # 7000,000,000 on Earth

The Ennui Of Strangers

Hey you! Yes, you
walking so surefooted
Through your Life
Looking for pitfalls
to examine, to avoid
You told me today was it,
when we could stop
for a moment or five
rest our weary feet
and breathe into
our dormant minds

Do you remember me?
No? I've been running
right here next to you
Both of us wear blinders its true
To prevent a shared laugh or even
a point of view
But you have to admit
sprinting through a sunset
is quite the same as a walk
through torrential rain
If we become masochistic
Panhandlers of pain

Time's up, you say? Minutes
Did seem like hours today
Was it good for you?
It just seemed like we sat
Quietly navel gazing
And waiting for the other
to say something interesting
I'm glad we met, because that's
One less person on my list
Of all those hopeful strangers.

Space Cadet

Last night, I met a friend and, as we often do, we discussed the affairs of our contrary hearts. With the developments over the last few months, there was a lot to catch up on. While we were chatting, and I was ticking off the current situations with the various amours that have half-heartedly populated my life, she pointed out almost with surprise, “So for the first time, you’re actually single.” And the fact is, she’s right.

Over the last many years, I have been involved with a few people intermittently. But like burrs under the proverbial bonnet, it was never over, because it never really ever began. There were friendships, and a few benefits and all the possible permutations one can imagine in the two ambiguous words, “it’s complicated.” Nobody could fault my justification – single and mingling – and I figured that since no one was getting hurt, how could there be any kind of fallout?

In their indirect and loving ways, all my friends let me know how I was screwing up. I attracted the wrong people at the right time, the right people at the wrong time, the could-be-right, the not-so-wrong, the lost and the found and everything in between. There were laughs and lots of grist for the literary mill… but yesterday, over wine and fairly unassuming conversation, all of them disappeared without so much as a “catch ya later!”

It’s a shock to discover that the story you’ve been telling yourself – that you’ve been single for the last 5-odd years – is actually an utter fabrication. And today, with no one to have a conversation with in your head, no loop of the person's expressions playing through your mind’s eye, no sudden laughs breaking through at inappropriate times when you imagine what he would have said, you find yourself at a loose end for the first time in a very long time.

And it’s weird.

Everyone from astrological theorists to interested friends have a theory. Apparently, anything from 'a time for new beginnings' to ‘just a phase’ is a fair diagnosis. But what’s really weird is – I breathe easier. There's a lot to be said for walking around without a voice in your head. There's much more to be said for all that space that can now be devoted to doing sweet fuck-all if that's what you want... no waiting for a phonecall, no wondering if you're going to or should meet, what it would mean if you do or don't, how the evening shall end, if your legs are shaved, no raunchy texts or making/fending off booty-calls...

The flip side?

With so much space cleared out, there's an overwhelming flood of new people. Suddenly I'm being singled out for my vivaciousness, my rapier wit, my deep profundity, my simmering sexuality, my (pick any quality and fill in the blank)... And with them, comes the possibility of opening the doors to some other form of complicated. After all, who doesn't like being appreciated for all those superior qualities, eh?

The only difference? After having put in so many years of hard life, one simple lesson stands out. Just because they have the good sense to love you, doesn't mean you have to drop your standards and love them back.

One small step in type-face.. One giant leap in Life.