Keep It Simple, Son!

History repeats, or almost. The story starts many moons ago, in a conversation between two highly unequal individuals. The first of them was first in many respects. An idol for many, he had chosen to strike out on his own despite not-so-humble moorings. Starting from scratch thus, he had risen through the ranks by virtue of sheer grit and effort, never compromising his values in the face of hardship or temptation. He would achieve a lot more in the years to come, but even in the times we speak of, was widely quoted as an example of integrity, determination, and commitment to professional excellence.

The other party to the conversation was young — in fact, too young to have any worldly standing. Imbued with the precocious confidence of youth, he ventured an opinion on the quality of the elder's published output. Of course, he had no credentials whatsoever to comment on its technical or pedagogic merit. Neither did he have any justifiable claim to pontificate on its literary value. In fact, the little exposure he had to the Queen's was due to a love for the word, engendered and facilitated by this very conversation-partner!

Fortunately, the older man was characteristically large-hearted. He understood the recklessness of youth. Perhaps he gave some leeway to the innocence of the boy's intention too. As it turned out, he took the cheeky attempt to critique his body of work in his stride. Notably, the advice ran thus: the language ought to be simpler, the sentences shorter, and words commonplace. History has it that the elder smiled and the young boy came away feeling on top of the world, an emotion of exaggerated self-importance of the kind one experiences on making an unexpected contribution in a chain of events.

The years rolled by — the boy turned into a young man and more, though the elder remained first. One day, the historical conversation was relived. The not-so-young man asked for the elder's opinion on his limited oeuvre. The shoe, as they say, was on the other foot! Yet, with his usual humility, the older man read through the younger's outpourings, half-smiled, and nodded. Presented with what was clearly mild approval at best, the son took recourse to boyish petulance, and pressed for more pointed feedback. The father replied: "It is good, but you may consider making it an easier read, lest the message be lost in the medium". It was not a comeback — just the truth, resonating with what many others had said earlier — which in that one moment had turned the idea into an imperative!

Thank you and happy 16 June :)

The Pros of HitchHiking

A rather wise colleague of mine, told of my virginal attempt at a blog, prophesied that the key question over time would be of sustenance. Frankly, my initial response was to summarily nix such doubt-mongering. A history of liberally dissembling opinion in conversation gave me confidence; abusing the constitutionally guaranteed Freedom of Expression being a habit. If some immodesty be allowed, my defence would also include a certain felicity with Words, notably in written form. Last but not least, innocence of intent could be an argument too: Echohum’s conception being as much inside-out as to seek other voices.

In short, one felt more than equal to the task of expanding blogspace. However, a few months on, the scorecard is meagre, including a couple of drafts lying abandoned, forgotten in the multitude of chores that define post quarter-life-crisis existence. It appears it is already time to reflect on where Echohum stands, the little path treaded, and where it may be headed.

An admission, at the outset: the effort of putting pen to paper (figuratively speaking) and click-of-button publication has been intensely gratifying. A blog barely three posts old may be early days to summarize thus, but there is something delicately uplifting in the movement of words from cerebral-and-fleeting to physical-and-enduring domain. The nature of this blogging exercise is semi-cathartic, almost humbling, on two counts: the Message and the Medium.

To talk in order, content née Message is foremost (measuring it only by reception may not be entirely accurate). There are intensely individual and hence highly variable reasons for which assorted bloggers likes yours truly reach for the keyboard. What emerges post (pun intended) is obviously disparate. Again, the rate at which more gets created would put even those warren-dwelling champions of the multiplication game, to shame. So what explains this urge, the furor loquendi?

Simply put, irrespective of raison, there is something uplifting in the Dasvidaniya moments when one decides if or what to write. Last few months' experience tells me that the mere process of this choice, even when not resulting in an actual post, broadens one's perspective on three counts. First, the quest for a topic leads to more extensive reflection on the day's happenstances. Next, there is an increased propensity to action since a broader canvas of experiences makes for more post-worthy possibilities. Third, the day-end rumination ups the revitalizing quotient of the day's highs (say, sun-sand-surf in Ile Maurice); while turning languid the lows (case: an abysmal tryst with MDLR Airlines)! So ye tentative traveler, a recourse to blogging may just enthuse you to spend your way out of the economic downturn at assorted desirable destinations!

Aside from such macroeconomic considerations, we have the compulsive convenience of the Medium itself. While the ordeal-by-fire ‘iron foundry’ school of success may interest traditionalists, the blogger's way is seamless push-button publishing. One lands transmission-ready for a million (ahem) eyeballs, minus motivation-sapping rejections via sundry unnamed editors. This is likely a bigger imagination breakthrough than Printing Press's assault on forestry. Thus, barely a century from Edison-perspiration rubric, you have a shot at a Warholian fifteen seconds on Google, to be listed with Britney Spears, CERN's nuclear physics postulates, a deluge of spam, and the latest slice of erotica. Eulogy or odium may follow (or, likely, apathetic neglect), but you are ‘out there’ (cue X Files music)!

Blogging, therefore, is a fair epitome of today's age: if you have a thought, you have a medium. So, as the Obama inauguration focuses the world on Word: in China a debate on omission (Communism); the rest of the world on Justice Roberts’s placement (faithfully), here’s my contribution. Do you read?

About A Name

A journey of a thousand li begins with a single step. And for a blog, one must perforce start with a title. Having flirted for long with the idea of writing one, it surprised me yesterday that this seemingly minor detail had escaped my attention. My afternoon soon turned to evening, musing on saddi Dilli's traffic volumes on an otherwise uneventful day. The mind kept going back to questions of a nomenclatural kind though, even as the decision for dinner was made in favour of Khan Market next-door over Select Citywalk (traffic et al). Regardless, the condiments on offer failed to stir any divine ideas. Nor was the resident critic in one of her more indulgent moods.

So I slept on it.

And it came to me early Sun morning (confessedly an uncharacteristic action for the hour in my case). The math, as they say, is clear: there are really only two original numbers, zero and one. If you went from zero to one, and then again more than once, you would have many. Equally, there is no other way to get to many than to start with one. Hence, One is Me.

'Many', on the other hand, may well invite charges ranging from mere egotism to ominous megalomania! My defence is simple: the reference is not to any precocious assumptions of following (not that those are in any manner unwelcome) but to the multiple touch-points that comprise Life. Amidst its myriad hues and shapes, inspiring ideas and individuals, and inimitably diverse emotions and expressions, we find life in atoms and Atlases (that dance in a marvelous interdependence for existence) and beyond.

Let it, therefore, be my stated intent to open up this multitude of experiences; and humbly seek to add to them through reactions, suggestions or comments. From One to Many, back some; and then some more!