Thought Provenance

Three or four years ago, I adjudicated my first Parliamentary Debate, sitting on the Senate Steps of IIT Roorkee. The teams, comprising mainly of freshers and sophomores, battled each other on some topic which we thought was important back in those days. It wasn't the greatest of debates of course, but it was the first time I had tangible proof about how fickle the mind is.

First the Prime Minister, then the Leader of the Opposition, then the DPM... Each time a speaker left the floor, I found myself agreeing with him / her. It may sound stupid, but it wasn't until I looked at my notes later on that I realized I wasn't allowed to agree with both sides as they were logical converses of one another. So I began crossing out points and assigning them points until I knew where I stood on the issue. And then I decided who won. A few years hence, I'm probably only slightly better as an adjudicator, but I'm thoroughly aware of how easily influenced we all are. 

In the past, politicians used methods of mass propaganda to get into your head - to help you decide what you wanted. But in today's complicated world, things are worse. We no longer know what propaganda is and what isn't. Especially with the advent of social media, you are no longer entitled to an opinion of your own!

"Too often we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought" - John F Kennedy

There are laugh-tracks in Sitcoms which tell me when to laugh, extensive pre-match and post-match analyses of all kinds of games to tell me who plays well and who doesn't, and a few thousand websites which tell me who is the most important member of each band. In fact, I am entirely certain that several people who rave about Page and Plant cannot differentiate between bass and drums.

When it comes to reading, Goodreads ensures that I open every book with prejudice. I already know what I need to think about a book, and I read only to confirm this predisposition. When it comes to movies, it is difficult to say that one doesn't think much of Inglourious Basterds. It is important to like whatever Tarantino makes. And it is wrong to say Sachin must retire. In short, Social Media has implemented perfect thought control: Self-regulated thought control!

When I see a status message with 200 likes, I'm tempted to 'like' it myself without even reading. Answers of Quora with a certain number of up-votes will fare well independent of their quality. People who are famous can say just about anything and get away with it.

"I actually worry a lot that as I get "popular", I'll be able to get away with saying stupider stuff that I would have dared say before. This sort of thing happens to a lot of people, and I would really like to avoid it" - Paul Graham

The other day Amitabh Bachchan said something like "laughter is the best medicine" on Twitter and it got re-tweeted fifty thousand times. The more number of re-tweets, the more the temptation becomes to re-tweet. Opinions get further reinforced. This ensures that whatever little originality you once had is ably quashed. And you ensure this happens to others, until the world cannot think any more.

This is all certainly not a new phenomenon, but the process has definitely been expedited in this shrinking world. I think I need to get away from all this for a while. I need solitude.

"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation" - Oscar Wilde

Choice

Coal eyes. Black, unruly hair. Glowing red cheeks. I almost bundled over the child in one of D-Mart's grocery aisles. Not over four feet tall, the little boy scampered back to his parents, perhaps scared that I'd try to run him over again. Laughing at his antics, I continued to the next aisle searching for the perfect soap.

Fiddling around with three-for-the-price-of-two packs, I was moving a few racks to my right when the kid appeared again at the corner of the aisle. His mother bent down to match his height and whispered some instructions in his left ear. She seemed to point at the dental-care shelves as she said something in a hurry before returning to her husband.

The child was rooted to the spot for a moment, eyes wide, in the big scary supermarket. Then, gathering some courage, he walked up to the toothpaste rack and looked up at it carefully. I smiled at the kid and tried to identify which paste he was looking at. It wasn't clear; so I let him be and returned to searching for my soap.

I picked out a few things I thought I needed, and a few more things which I knew I didn't. And then, I turned to look at the kid again. He still stood there, only looking at a different toothpaste now. He then walked around to the other side of the shelf, as if looking at things from a different angle would help him. By now, I saw frustration getting to him and I decided to help him.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Toothpaste," he said quietly. Simple enough.

"Colgate, Pepsodent, Close-up or Sensodyne?"

He didn't respond. He looked scared. I had just uttered some meaningless words.

"Okay, I'll make it simple for you. What do you use at home - do you know what it looks like?"

"No," he said. "It looks red. And it looks blue and green." He was confused. And now, he was confusing me.

"Does it taste sweet? Or sour? Or cold?" I asked, prodding patiently.

"How does it matter?" he asked. I was trying to get him toothpaste. And he was asking me existential questions.

"Dammit kid, do you want cooling crystals in your paste?" I said losing my temper.

I quickly corrected myself realizing that he was nearly in tears. "Don't cry," I said. "Just tell me if you want salt in your toothpaste."

He turned away from me as tears came to his eyes. He ran to his mom rubbing his face. I exited the aisle quietly before they came back.

"Choice. Humbug."

Cricket, You Beauty!

I think Cricket is a highly underrated sport across the world. Come to think of it - it's spectacular really, eerie even, how closely Test Cricket reflects real-life! Victories and losses in life aren't decided by stand-alone moments. And usually, we know the outcome of events even before they actually conspire, which is the greatest criticism people have about cricket. "It's not dramatic enough," they say.

But neither is real life. You normally know what is in store for you - either victory or defeat, but you still have to play the game. You may need five runs in as many overs, but you don't say you're work is done and walk away. You still have to play and get those runs. Similarly, when things seem hopeless, as they did to the Delhi Daredevils a few minutes ago, you still have to play. You can feel the match going away from you, but you play with hope. You pray for magic, but magic in cricket isn't a sudden thing. Even magic is gradual.

No other sport can show you the depth of despair as well as cricket can. Neither can any other sport produce such gritty turn-arounds. But most importantly, no other sport gives you a second innings.