Been awhile...

Its been a while since I found my way back to my blogspot. Being self employed is quite time consuming. I thought days flew by while I was a part of the corporate world but this experience is definitely not what I had expected it to be like.
For me being on my own meant having a lot more time on hand - maybe I am yet to get the time organisation right with this phase of my life but between waking up in the morning, getting to my animation class - learning there, coming back home and going out to meet people with the hope that those meetings would lead into possible business opportunities and trying to get things organised the time that I thought I had on hand seems to completely vanish into thin air. Before I know it - its late in the evening and time to head back home to spend some time doing my animation homework. On days that I can actually take some time to practice my guitar I am lucky. Weekends are also whizzing by.
The overall experience has been so far very new. Especially at my animation class I am the oldest student. The rest of my batchmates are a good 12-13 years younger than I am. We seem to live in two different worlds. They cannot understand why someone would leave a successful career behind to come and learn animation of all the things!! I do not spend any energy trying to explain to them.
The funny part is that all of them seem to be there because they have to be. I overhear comments and curses everyday as to how their parents do not allow them to bunk classes.They crib about the faculty calling their parents if they were absent without information. I am secretly amused by their jumping at every opportunity to go watch the latest movie. Anything to get out of the classes.For them this is the college life. They have chosen these 2 hours a day as their career course. Most of these kids have either just completed their 12th or are attempting to complete it. Their reasons for being there are way too different than mine.
I am there because I want to be, because I want to learn a new art form - like I said we seem to live in two different worlds altogether. I cannot think of wanting to miss a class. 1 month into the course and I keep waiting for my teacher to begin a new topic. There is an excitement in learning like never before in my life.I never felt this way while I was at school, college or my university. I like this phase. I loved the moment I got my student Identity card from my institute. It felt better holding it than my last business card.
Being older it probably takes me a little longer to learn than my batchmates - be it at animation or the guitar. But learn I must. My mind desperately needs this refreshment. Need the creative juices to flow again. God am I glad that I do not have the time on hand as much as I thought I would. I am quite certain I will not regret this decision.
It's also an amazing feeling dropping into bed exhausted at the end of every day. I am hoping that exhaustion is soon also accompanied by the feeling of accomplishment. But hey, its been just about 2 months since I have been self employed. Am sure I will get there eventually. I must.

The ‘Ahh!’ feeling of satisfaction

Ever had one of those days at the end of which you feel like you have gotten quite a lot accomplished? The feeling of 'Ahh!' Satisfaction. The feeling of having done something substantial and concrete. I had one of those days today.

It started out with a nice long walk with Archie (my little (?) Golden Retriever). Then the usual morning chores of reading the newspaper(s), getting ready etc. After which I set out to do the one thing that I had been mentally debating on, for the last few weeks. I went and put down the deposit on my education – Finally! A course in Animation.

I have for the last 10 years of my life been awestruck by animation & animators. Have been off and on contemplating on learning the art. For various reasons kept putting it off for another day in the future. Today I took the first step towards actually realizing the dream of being able to create and contribute towards that art form. I walked down to the institute of my choice (Choose I did! after several searches, tours of the centers and speaking to faculty) and put down my down payment for the Diploma that I am going to earn by the end of the next 13 months. Classes start 2^nd November.

Interestingly I am going to be the oldest student in the class. This industry accepts people schooled in animation right after their 10^th Standard. So I am pretty much going to be amongst a bunch of 16-20 year olds learning the art. And Boy oh boy am I looking forward to that. Such a refreshing change to be back in a classroom (am getting an identity card and library card :D). Got my joining course material (Text Books, drawing sheets, pencils, eraser and a sharpener!!!).

The next thing I did today after coming back from my animation enrollment is walk up to the Music School and enroll myself into a guitar class. My good ol bro had already presented me my first guitar the first day of my self- employment. After some ground research narrowed in on some weekend classes. Today was my first guitar class. I started from the basics of understanding the types of guitars, to parts of a guitar and learnt techniques on how to hold a guitar. Was also taught on how to begin to strum it. Such a refreshing feeling.

The day ended with some fruitful business discussions (I cannot forget that I'm now on my own and need to starting earning a living soon J). The last I checked my pedometer it showed 9kms and some 600Kcal burnt. So while accomplishing all this I also got my fair bit of exercise for the day by walking around everywhere.

I call this a good day. A day of new beginnings. A day full of the 'Ahh – I got quite a bit done' feeling J.

Sigh! How hopelessly romantic!

Browsing TV channels in the evening and I stopped at Star Movies. As I screened through I realized 'Pretty Woman' was on air. This was probably the 100^th time I was watching this movie …but I could not resist sitting and watching the remaining scenes of the movie all over again.

This movie was released way back in 1990. At that point I think I was still just entering my teens. Was in my 6^th or 7^th grade (think it was definitely the 7^th standard since at that point Hollywood movies found their way into the Indian cinema halls way later than they were released abroad) . It was one of the first romantic movies I was exposed to at that stage of my life. There were hush hush discussions about this movie at school. Around the home circles at that time I used to hang around my brother and his friends (more like follow him around like a lost puppy much to his dislike!). All of them being a good 6-9 years older than I was – obviously had a lot more to talk about this movie. And boys being boys they thought all that romantic stuff was hogwash. But watch it – they definitely did. There was talk of the lovely background scores (Pretty Woman, Must Have been love, et al) eternally hummable melodies.

Even today as I watched the movie (knowing almost every inch of the film). My heart still beat faster when Richard Gere decides at the very end to make it a fairytale ending for Julia Roberts. I know I could watch this movie many more times without getting bored. It's just not this movie. Many other such romantic flicks I have the same soft corner for. Fairytale endings and romantic interludes…sigh!! J

There is a very apt dialogue at the end of the movie. It says 'welcome to Hollywood. The land of dreams. Some dreams come true some don't. But welcome to the land of dreams.'

Ain't hope and optimism what run this world J. Almost every aspect of it!

Hurrah! Improvement it is :)

My blog is now over 5 years old. Like I may have mentioned at some point earlier – this blog was inspired by one of my favorite cousins. While I cribbed to him one sunny afternoon way back in the summer of 2005 about how boring and monotonous life had gotten to be – the wise old guy advised me (on chat – since he had already sailed out to the faraway lands a long time ago) to occupy my mind by starting my own blog. He said – 'write about the things that interest you the most- anything, everything. Am sure something will come out of it'. I listened to him alright and got myself an account, a title and space and the first few words but that's where the interest ended then. So there it was – 1 post in 2005, the next one in 2008 (I do take my time don't I? It's amazing I remembered the log in name and password to this thing for that long!!) 5 posts in 2009 (some improvement!) and …………..hold your breath – 9 posts (including this one!) in 2010. Wow! And the year is yet to end with another 2 + months to go.

I have to confess though that there were a few more posts in between made during some emotional ups and downs which I chose to delete. I used to often wonder even if anyone ever read my blog. I have one little cousin brother who has listed himself as my follower. This blog is practically my online thought keeper. For awhile I had debated linking it up to my facebook account. The anonymity of it all was something I had gotten used to. I put it on for awhile and then pulled it down. Then currently it's linked on to facebook again. It's this way because I chose it to be.

In the last 5 years my blog stats tells me that it has had over 122 page views from different parts of the globe (with just one listed followerJ)pat pat!! I had not expected even one. Mind you thanks to google analytics, I do not track my own visits.

I intend to write – readers or not. I am liking this phase. Call it a wee bit narcissistic if you please. It's good to come back and read what you thought of at that point and time!

It's after all my online thought keeper. My Queendom. Currently being shared with the world at large.


 

To Belong or not to belong is always the question ain’t it?

I have now been self employed (Do note that I don’t want to use the word unemployed at any point and time J) for almost a week and a half. At this point I cannot help but be reminded of the time that I began my career . We were a bunch of fresh graduates who were campus recruited by a company that sponsored us for a full time PGDBA. From the first day inspite of being students we were recruited as employees and then sent out to study. Completed the course and joined back the company full time after two years. I felt totally and completely one with the company, its values, the culture et al. Whenever someone asked me questions about where I worked, pat was my reply – I belong to BOSCH. These statements of mine were instantaneous, total impromptu responses. It was neither due to a poor vocabulary nor was it wrong English. It plain and simple was heart speak. I said so because I believed so. The weight of the word ‘belong’ was reemphasized when one of my batchmates and colleagues very promptly starting correcting me everytime I said this. He thought I was being ridiculous to be saying ‘Belong’. He would almost always correct me by saying –“ Sharvani. You do NOT BELONG to any company. You are not some property to belong to a company or for that matter anyone. You only work for or work with companies. Why don’t you understand!”

Technically he was right. No arguments on that front. But the point is – I never did understand. Even after BOSCH I have always rightfully belonged myself to every company I have worked for. If I don’t belong – I pretty much don’t function. Be it work, or everything else with life. Belonging fully and giving it all you got is what me is all about! So when I say ‘I belong’ I mean it. Else you will find me out of there in no time at all.

Am at that stage of my career right now where I belong to myself! Now the question is “To belong or not to belong”. Its going to be fun finding out J

Make a difference and How!

This weekend for me was a really Refreshing & Rejuvenating  one. Refreshing and rejuvenating for my mind and being.

Spent the entire Saturday with intellectuals and the real ‘movers and shakers’ of our society. People who have stopped cribbing about the lack of governance and political situations and decided to ‘Make a difference’ in their own small and big ways.  

For me the greatest realization came from the fact that I have a choice– I can either continue to crib about the  Kalmadis , XYZs of the world pocketing my hard earned tax paid monies and not actually be able to ‘do’ anything about it OR take on small doable activities and begin to make a difference. Thereby reducing your dependence on Government to bring about a change – though clichéd ‘being the change that you want to see’.

Did you know that there are these small changes you can bring about yourself which if you can get 10 other people to follow –and they in turn get 10 more..too..would  bring about this huge domino effect of change? Some of these changes are real simple..

•           Get Aerators installed into your taps and showers at home. Inexpensive and simple to install, low-flow shower heads and faucet aerators can reduce your home water consumption as much as 50%, and reduce your energy cost of heating the water also by as much as 50%.

Did you know for the BWSSB – it costs close to Rs.44 per kilolitre to get the clean water to your homes, and we pay just Rs.6 per kilolitre. Can you imagine the deficit and loss that they are incurring? And there are so many homes that let their sumps and water tanks overrun with water overflowing all over the place. Maybe its true – we pay too less an amount for this utility for us to realize the worth of it. The solution might be in charging us what it costs them.

•  Switch off (the main switch) – better still unplug your systems when not in use. Your computer , your television (we all love using our remote controls and leave our sets on the standby mode don’t we? We do too!), your music systems, microwaves, mixers, etc… You will end up conserving close to 25% of your energy consumption at home.
•   Segregate your home waste. Recycle plastics and paper, compost wet waste and kitchen waste and you will realize that what you end up sending to the landfills will be just 10% of what you sending out today.
•  Say NO to plastic bags. If you begin to say NO and get a few more like minded educated souls to do so – then gradually the ‘need’ for the same will get diminished (though might start small – will lead to a revolution)
•  Use only CFLs and do away with all the incandescent lamps at home (atleast only use the CFL ones). Love the Minister for Energy Shobha Karandlaje – if only she can pull through her recent announcement of making Karnataka free from incandescent lamps.  They estimating a power saving close to 400MW (Karnataka today has a power shortage of 1000MW)
•  There are substitutes available for the harmful detergents and chemicals we use today to clean our homes. These are easy to make at home. Begin to use these so that the water that we throw out everyday post use – can be safer for the environment.  http://www.dailydump.org/harmless_home

These are just a few of the ‘to do’ things. There are plenty more of such. These are no great discoveries. Like I said it was more of a realization / enlightenment. It’s not the first time it’s being talked about, its not the first time I have heard about it either. But it’s more about putting these into action. For me it was an important lesson learnt. I guess the motivation came from interacting with people who have made these -energy and environment conservation methods a way of life.  Making a difference and HOW!

Dog Poop!!

You must be thinking she is off her rocker to be writing about dog poop… but take a moment to think of what the poor doggies must be going through – their poop is a topic of conversation on National media, on social networking sites…where not!! Have you not noticed this off late?

If you are dog owner, who takes his or her dearie for a walk either in the morning or evening you will be able to empathise and appreciate this note – else you will be the one thinking ‘she is off her rocker’.  

If you are a responsible dog owner in Bangalore – you are always on the vigil when you are on that walk…looking over your shoulder and all around while the fella decides to poop. You try you best to find a place that’s less visited, is secluded, has enough grass and soil to help the poop degrade et al….but sometimes when a fella has to go he has to go…So at times you find yourself tugging at that leash just to make sure he poops in a place that you think is more appropriate than he does….funny sight to imagine? Trust me – most of us doggie people go through this on a daily basis…

After all this effort that you take – you are still subjected to whole load of abuses from people all around. You are the vamps and villains of the piece. People who do not own dogs sometimes do not understand that it’s a biological need for these gods’s gift to mankind too. It’s ironical that these abuses are from the same people who throw out tons of garbage onto the roadsides and pollute the environment. I am not justifying the doggie poop on the roadside – but then its bio degradeable – Plastic is not!! And you have an option of segregating waste and doing the right thing – but the poor doggies do not have an alternative. They are not allowed into parks, they are not allowed into playgrounds..all they have are the roadsides. There are no designated pet walk areas – then what is an average pet owner supposed to do? Poor little doggies….as if its not enough to be subjected to the humiliation of your owner watching where and how you poop –now the added attention of the entire neighbourhood. Everyone seems to want to have a say in where he poops!!

Coming back to the discussions of doggie poop in media…I recently read an article in Bangalore Mirror about a woman being verbally and physically abused by her neighbours just because her dogs poop when they are on a walk??? Poor woman. I can totally empathise with her agony.

 And then of course all that talk about doggie poop in the CWG stadium, on the beds et al also inspired me to write about it…there seems to be so much talk about it. It’s getting national media attention but then we have no remedies. We have great acceptance and empathy towards construction kids and slum kids sitting down on the pavements and relieving themselves, we have great tolerance towards the mounds of garbage that gets collected at every roadside leading to extreme unhygienic conditions let alone environmental hazards but dog poop – sorry! That is something we have a zero tolerance for…even if the poor tame fella is relieving himself in the most nondescript of places….

Winds of Change.

"..............The wind of change
Blows straight into the face of time
Like a stormwind that will ring the freedom bell
For peace of mind
Let your balalaika sing
What my guitar wants to say........"

When the Scorpions sang this song....am sure they were not referring to the same winds of change that I am talking about. Then why did I put part of these lyrics onto my blog...well just like that. Wanted to start my blog with eloquence :) I guess. 

Am amazed at how people change with the winds of change. My inspiration to write this note on my blog might rise from my current corporate experiences but have definitely seen this in plenty in my personal life too. Its all about changing your beliefs, your outlook - sometimes even your personal morals to accommodate to what the winds of change blow in your way. 

Adapting to change is probably what drives this universe but what really cheeses me off is when people change so drastically to adapt to these winds of change. Would you for example do something like this - Be able to call something crappy - absolutely shitty a few months ago and uphold the same thing or person and put them on a pedestal a couple of months later? Without no change whatsoever being effected on the object/person in question but simply because the circumstances changed???

I don't think I can ever do that. That would probably happen only in two situations in my case :

a. either I was not completely informed to begin with and had been too quick to form my opinions OR

b. The person or thing has changed in its elements....and really tried hard to be different.

But beyond this..I definitely don't think my impressions and moral values would undergo such a drastic change just because the circumstances changed...

But like I said before - what amazes me endlessly is how easily and quickly some people I know 'adapt' to these winds of change. Don't know if I have to pat them on their back and say - WOW, what an ability. Or Pat myself and say congrats - you are strong! 

This again probably would depend on the circumstances and the winds of change :) 

The irony called life!

Radio Ga Ga...

For years now, as I get ready for work in the morning I have the habit of listening to the radio. This has been a habit since the time Radio City launched itself into Bangalore. Currently I tune in to 94.3. I like Bollywood music - so I naturally like the music they play and I like the MJ- Prithvi who comes on live in the mornings on this channel. So almost from the time they have launched I have been regularly listening to them. 
As per my daily routine as I switched on the radio today morning - I began to reminiscence about how the radio has been such an integral part of our lives. Long before the private FM channels hit the scene - our family had included radio into our lives. I know before the television the radio was a hit. But considering I was born into pretty much the post colour tv era - radio being a part of our daily life might still be something rare to come by. 
I remember my Dad used to tune into the All India Radio at around 6 am maybe and the rest of the household would wake up to the sounds of Suprabhata or some other classical music. I dont particularly remember my mother enjoying the crackling music my dad's small transistor sized machine used to belt out but my dad could not care less. 
Dad had all his morning timings and chores planned out as per the different programs on the radio. His factory bus would arrive sharp by around 7.15 am and including the bus time he had pre programmed and tuned his mind into the radio timings. He swore by the radio time. Noone was allowed to switch off or meddle with it at that time (not that any one of us actually bothered to :))
The funniest part that I vividly remember even now is that - while my dad shaved I would generally stand by and watch him fascinated (don't ask me why - the whole process just fascinated me...), he would generally hum along with the radio...while I was really young I naturally believed that my dad hummed because he knew/recognised the song....as I grew older I questioned this belief of mine confronted dad ...that's when I realised that dad would just hum along irrespective of whether he knew the song or not and if my brother or I asked him which song it was - he would say "famous song". That's it. No further information (well he had to have information to give it in the first place :))
This continued till my dad retired in 1993. Noone paid that much attention to it but it always played in the background.
Our obsession with radio got rekindled again after my mother and brother started taking on programs on All India Radio...so we would eagerly tune in and wait for them go on air...amazing feeling!! 
And then of course I joined work and just around that time Radio city was about to be launched in Bangalore, so was Radio Indigo.(if I remember right they were the only stations to have the licence. But Indigo pulled out at that time due to some funds issues - and Radio City ruled the roost for the next 3 years - until the next licence auction) I remember the sales teams from both these stations coming and pitching for our business. Those were the days when being on radio was new to most corporates and my product was one of the ideal clients to begin with. ...I still remember the sentence the woman from Radio City started her pitch with "Sharvani, our station will have such powerful transmitters and such superior technology that you will be able to listen to our radio station - as the crow flies" :) 
So much for the radio's journey into our hearts...as today's MJs and RJs talk more and play less music and as the radio begins its journey into being one of the preferred mediums for advertisers to be on...........I cannot help but still love the radio and its music... 


Radio............Radio........Someone still loves you!

End of an Era & the beginning of a new one - My Road Not Taken

As I make this blog entry, I have just about another 16 -17 days of corporate life left. As I prepare myself mentally for the journey ahead (I don't think any amount of planning can prepare one for the end of the first salaryless month) I cannot but help think about how drastic this decision has been for me. After spending a decade in this corporate world working for organisations, being an employee - the decision to start out on my own and being my own employer has been quite a difficult decision to make.
But like they say - you have to learn to take the leap of faith once in awhile. And once you have been bitten by the famous 'entrepreneurial bug' very few people can resist this temptation of starting out on their own and being your own boss - and I am no exception here.
The circumstances that I startout with as a backdrop are just as challenging. But that's what makes it more interesting. 
As I think back -to not so long ago, probably just a couple of months back (most people I know plan these transformations and changes over years of planning!!!..me not beyond a couple of months max!!) I cannot pinpoint to that exact moment when this wave of change swept over me and I decided to take the plunge. What was the trigger, what was the tipping point, what made me change over from someone who had no belief whatsoever in starting out on my own to this person who said bye bye to a regular job and regular income. From being someone who dreamt of rising up the corporate ladder to wanting to being her own boss. 
Poof! One fine day all those earlier thoughts and determinations seemed to have gone up in the air!And new goals and determinations seem to have taken their place...
I cannot but think of one of my favourite poems yet again. Robert Frost has so beautifully said it all so right in his poem "The Road Not Taken"....I sign off with this beautiful piece of work which is so apt..

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference

Bill Watterson's collection - a rare piece to come by

Its amazing how this man who created this wonderful comic strip of Calvin & Hobbes and kept it alive for a decade suddenly decided to be a recluse since he did not see any point in commercialising his art.

I am sure many people called him stupid for having gone against the syndicate and not to have sold off the rights to his characters to be turned into merchandise or to be converted into movies...

while doing some random search came across this blog which led me further into a few more meaningful sites. Putting these down on my blog so that I don't actually forget that these exist.

The speech that Bill Watterson gave is an little funny but very inspiring one at that...am just glad I came across this portal..It inspires you to follow your dream and do the things that you most want to do...like he says

"The truth is, most of us discover where we are headed when we arrive. At that time, we turn around and say, yes, this is obviously where I was going all along. It’s a good idea to try to enjoy the scenery on the detours, because you’ll probably take a few."

http://www.speakingofanimation.com/2010/04/inspiration-bill-watterson-part-1/

http://ignatz.brinkster.net/cbillart.html

putting down Bill Watterson's rare speech on my blog...knowing me I will soon forget urls and links. This is one which I want to keep alive for awhile whilst I make some important decisions about my life...these thoughts need to linger on for a while longer......

"Speech by Bill Watterson"

Kenyon College, Gambier Ohio, to the 1990 graduating class.
SOME THOUGHTS ON THE REAL WORLD BY ONE WHO GLIMPSED IT AND FLED
Bill Watterson
Kenyon College Commencement
May 20, 1990
I have a recurring dream about Kenyon. In it, I’m walking to the post office on the way to my first class at the start of the school year. Suddenly it occurs to me that I don’t have my schedule memorized, and I’m not sure which classes I’m taking, or where exactly I’m supposed to be going.
As I walk up the steps to the postoffice, I realize I don’t have my box key, and in fact, I can’t remember what my box number is. I’m certain that everyone I know has written me a letter, but I can’t get them. I get more flustered and annoyed by the minute. I head back to Middle Path, racking my brains and asking myself, “How many more years until I graduate? …Wait, didn’t I graduate already?? How old AM I?” Then I wake up.
Experience is food for the brain. And four years at Kenyon is a rich meal. I suppose it should be no surprise that your brains will probably burp up Kenyon for a long time. And I think the reason I keep having the dream is because its central image is a metaphor for a good part of life: that is, not knowing where you’re going or what you’re doing.
I graduated exactly ten years ago. That doesn’t give me a great deal of experience to speak from, but I’m emboldened by the fact that I can’t remember a bit of MY commencement, and I trust that in half an hour, you won’t remember of yours either.
In the middle of my sophomore year at Kenyon, I decided to paint a copy of Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam” from the Sistine Chapel on the ceiling of my dorm room. By standing on a chair, I could reach the ceiling, and I taped off a section, made a grid, and started to copy the picture from my art history book.
Working with your arm over your head is hard work, so a few of my more ingenious friends rigged up a scaffold for me by stacking two chairs on my bed, and laying the table from the hall lounge across the chairs and over to the top of my closet. By climbing up onto my bed and up the chairs, I could hoist myself onto the table, and lie in relative comfort two feet under my painting. My roommate would then hand up my paints, and I could work for several hours at a stretch.
The picture took me months to do, and in fact, I didn’t finish the work until very near the end of the school year. I wasn’t much of a painter then, but what the work lacked in color sense and technical flourish, it gained in the incongruity of having a High Renaissance masterpiece in a college dorm that had the unmistakable odor of old beer cans and older laundry.
The painting lent an air of cosmic grandeur to my room, and it seemed to put life into a larger perspective. Those boring, flowery English poets didn’t seem quite so important, when right above my head God was transmitting the spark of life to man.
My friends and I liked the finished painting so much in fact, that we decided I should ask permission to do it. As you might expect, the housing director was curious to know why I wanted to paint this elaborate picture on my ceiling a few weeks before school let out. Well, you don’t get to be a sophomore at Kenyon without learning how to fabricate ideas you never had, but I guess it was obvious that my idea was being proposed retroactively. It ended up that I was allowed to paint the picture, so long as I painted over it and returned the ceiling to normal at the end of the year. And that’s what I did.
Despite the futility of the whole episode, my fondest memories of college are times like these, where things were done out of some inexplicable inner imperative, rather than because the work was demanded. Clearly, I never spent as much time or work on any authorized art project, or any poli sci paper, as I spent on this one act of vandalism.
It’s surprising how hard we’ll work when the work is done just for ourselves. And with all due respect to John Stuart Mill, maybe utilitarianism is overrated. If I’ve learned one thing from being a cartoonist, it’s how important playing is to creativity and happiness. My job is essentially to come up with 365 ideas a year.
If you ever want to find out just how uninteresting you really are, get a job where the quality and frequency of your thoughts determine your livelihood. I’ve found that the only way I can keep writing every day, year after year, is to let my mind wander into new territories. To do that, I’ve had to cultivate a kind of mental playfulness.
We’re not really taught how to recreate constructively. We need to do more than find diversions; we need to restore and expand ourselves. Our idea of relaxing is all too often to plop down in front of the television set and let its pandering idiocy liquefy our brains. Shutting off the thought process is not rejuvenating; the mind is like a car battery-it recharges by running.
You may be surprised to find how quickly daily routine and the demands of “just getting by: absorb your waking hours. You may be surprised to find how quickly you start to see your politics and religion become matters of habit rather than thought and inquiry. You may be surprised to find how quickly you start to see your life in terms of other people’s expectations rather than issues. You may be surprised to find out how quickly reading a good book sounds like a luxury.
At school, new ideas are thrust at you every day. Out in the world, you’ll have to find the inner motivation to search for new ideas on your own. With any luck at all, you’ll never need to take an idea and squeeze a punchline out of it, but as bright, creative people, you’ll be called upon to generate ideas and solutions all your lives. Letting your mind play is the best way to solve problems.
For me, it’s been liberating to put myself in the mind of a fictitious six year-old each day, and rediscover my own curiosity. I’ve been amazed at how one ideas leads to others if I allow my mind to play and wander. I know a lot about dinosaurs now, and the information has helped me out of quite a few deadlines.
A playful mind is inquisitive, and learning is fun. If you indulge your natural curiosity and retain a sense of fun in new experience, I think you’ll find it functions as a sort of shock absorber for the bumpy road ahead.
So, what’s it like in the real world? Well, the food is better, but beyond that, I don’t recommend it.
I don’t look back on my first few years out of school with much affection, and if I could have talked to you six months ago, I’d have encouraged you all to flunk some classes and postpone this moment as long as possible. But now it’s too late.
Unfortunately, that was all the advice I really had. When I was sitting where you are, I was one of the lucky few who had a cushy job waiting for me. I’d drawn political cartoons for the Collegian for four years, and the Cincinnati Post had hired me as an editorial cartoonist. All my friends were either dreading the infamous first year of law school, or despondent about their chances of convincing anyone that a history degree had any real application outside of academia.
Boy, was I smug.
As it turned out, my editor instantly regretted his decision to hire me. By the end of the summer, I’d been given notice; by the beginning of winter, I was in an unemployment line; and by the end of my first year away from Kenyon, I was broke and living with my parents again. You can imagine how upset my dad was when he learned that Kenyon doesn’t give refunds.
Watching my career explode on the lauchpad caused some soul searching. I eventually admitted that I didn’t have what it takes to be a good political cartoonist, that is, an interest in politics, and I returned to my firs love, comic strips.
For years I got nothing but rejection letters, and I was forced to accept a real job.
A REAL job is a job you hate. I designed car ads and grocery ads in the windowless basement of a convenience store, and I hated every single minute of the 4-1/2 million minutes I worked there. My fellow prisoners at work were basically concerned about how to punch the time clock at the perfect second where they would earn another 20 cents without doing any work for it.
It was incredible: after every break, the entire staff would stand around in the garage where the time clock was, and wait for that last click. And after my used car needed the head gasket replaced twice, I waited in the garage too.
It’s funny how at Kenyon, you take for granted that the people around you think about more than the last episode of Dynasty. I guess that’s what it means to be in an ivory tower.
Anyway, after a few months at this job, I was starved for some life of the mind that, during my lunch break, I used to read those poli sci books that I’d somehow never quite finished when I was here. Some of those books were actually kind of interesting. It was a rude shock to see just how empty and robotic life can be when you don’t care about what you’re doing, and the only reason you’re there is to pay the bills.
Thoreau said,
“the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.”
That’s one of those dumb cocktail quotations that will strike fear in your heart as you get older. Actually, I was leading a life of loud desperation.
When it seemed I would be writing about “Midnite Madness Sale-abrations” for the rest of my life, a friend used to console me that cream always rises to the top. I used to think, so do people who throw themselves into the sea.
I tell you all this because it’s worth recognizing that there is no such thing as an overnight success. You will do well to cultivate the resources in yourself that bring you happiness outside of success or failure. The truth is, most of us discover where we are headed when we arrive. At that time, we turn around and say, yes, this is obviously where I was going all along. It’s a good idea to try to enjoy the scenery on the detours, because you’ll probably take a few.
I still haven’t drawn the strip as long as it took me to get the job. To endure five years of rejection to get a job requires either a faith in oneself that borders on delusion, or a love of the work. I loved the work.
Drawing comic strips for five years without pay drove home the point that the fun of cartooning wasn’t in the money; it was in the work. This turned out to be an important realization when my break finally came.
Like many people, I found that what I was chasing wasn’t what I caught. I’ve wanted to be a cartoonist since I was old enough to read cartoons, and I never really thought about cartoons as being a business. It never occurred to me that a comic strip I created would be at the mercy of a bloodsucking corporate parasite called a syndicate, and that I’d be faced with countless ethical decisions masquerading as simple business decisions.
To make a business decision, you don’t need much philosophy; all you need is greed, and maybe a little knowledge of how the game works.
As my comic strip became popular, the pressure to capitalize on that popularity increased to the point where I was spending almost as much time screaming at executives as drawing. Cartoon merchandising is a $12 billion dollar a year industry and the syndicate understandably wanted a piece of that pie. But the more I though about what they wanted to do with my creation, the more inconsistent it seemed with the reasons I draw cartoons.
Selling out is usually more a matter of buying in. Sell out, and you’re really buying into someone else’s system of values, rules and rewards.
The so-called “opportunity” I faced would have meant giving up my individual voice for that of a money-grubbing corporation. It would have meant my purpose in writing was to sell things, not say things. My pride in craft would be sacrificed to the efficiency of mass production and the work of assistants. Authorship would become committee decision. Creativity would become work for pay. Art would turn into commerce. In short, money was supposed to supply all the meaning I’d need.
What the syndicate wanted to do, in other words, was turn my comic strip into everything calculated, empty and robotic that I hated about my old job. They would turn my characters into television hucksters and T-shirt sloganeers and deprive me of characters that actually expressed my own thoughts.
On those terms, I found the offer easy to refuse. Unfortunately, the syndicate also found my refusal easy to refuse, and we’ve been fighting for over three years now. Such is American business, I guess, where the desire for obscene profit mutes any discussion of conscience.
You will find your own ethical dilemmas in all parts of your lives, both personal and professional. We all have different desires and needs, but if we don’t discover what we want from ourselves and what we stand for, we will live passively and unfulfilled. Sooner or later, we are all asked to compromise ourselves and the things we care about. We define ourselves by our actions. With each decision, we tell ourselves and the world who we are. Think about what you want out of this life, and recognize that there are many kinds of success.
Many of you will be going on to law school, business school, medical school, or other graduate work, and you can expect the kind of starting salary that, with luck, will allow you to pay off your own tuition debts within your own lifetime.
But having an enviable career is one thing, and being a happy person is another.
Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare achievement. In a culture that relentlessly promotes avarice and excess as the good life, a person happy doing his own work is usually considered an eccentric, if not a subversive. Ambition is only understood if it’s to rise to the top of some imaginary ladder of success. Someone who takes an undemanding job because it affords him the time to pursue other interests and activities is considered a flake. A person who abandons a career in order to stay home and raise children is considered not to be living up to his potential-as if a job title and salary are the sole measure of human worth.
You’ll be told in a hundred ways, some subtle and some not, to keep climbing, and never be satisfied with where you are, who you are, and what you’re doing. There are a million ways to sell yourself out, and I guarantee you’ll hear about them.
To invent your own life’s meaning is not easy, but it’s still allowed, and I think you’ll be happier for the trouble.
Reading those turgid philosophers here in these remote stone buildings may not get you a job, but if those books have forced you to ask yourself questions about what makes life truthful, purposeful, meaningful, and redeeming, you have the Swiss Army Knife of mental tools, and it’s going to come in handy all the time.
I think you’ll find that Kenyon touched a deep part of you. These have been formative years. Chances are, at least of your roommates has taught you everything ugly about human nature you ever wanted to know.
With luck, you’ve also had a class that transmitted a spark of insight or interest you’d never had before. Cultivate that interest, and you may find a deeper meaning in your life that feeds your soul and spirit. Your preparation for the real world is not in the answers you’ve learned, but in the questions you’ve learned how to ask yourself.
Graduating from Kenyon, I suspect you’ll find yourselves quite well prepared indeed.
I wish you all fulfillment and happiness. Congratulations on your achievement.
Bill Watterson

My First Hospitalisation...

Everything in life has its first time...your first step, your first words, your first love, your first accident...etc..everyone of us goes through these at different stages and times. Similarly I crossed another one of 'my first' milestones this weekend.

I had my first hospitalization experience this weekend...Spent two nights in a row at the Apollo Hospital. The first night I spent in the emergency room and the second night in my own spacious private room. Its not like I have not seen the insides of a hospital. Been in and out of quite a few of them while my mom and dad were admitted...this was My FIRST hospitalisation...and hopefully not another one coming along in a long time..

The events leading up to this moment in history went on like this...I don't particularly still remember how I managed to fall backwards and fall so neatly on the rear part of my head...but then I am perfect - thats how I managed it (everyone's wondering how I managed to land so heavily on my head without actually hurting either my back or breaking any of my bones). I just managed an ever perfect straight fall backwards. I have no recollection whatsoever of how it happened.

Infact as soon as it happened I must have blacked out. I just remember waking up howling. Dad was looking over me and saying something that did not actually make any sense at that time. Due to the shock of the fall I had also lost my short term memory completely. My head at the back began to swell up like a huge stone had been inserted into it..and it hurt like crazy. I could neither stand straight nor think clearly.

It must have been around 9ish then. My bro rushed me into Sagar. I just remember some funny people there in the emergency room...ward boys and nurses giggling away - at god knows what. At the plight of people being wheeled in and out - I sincerely hope not. But it somehow seemed so...some long words with the doctor and my dad was already tense. I could sense that much. Little else made any sense..the world around me was wheeling around..and I was weeping uncontrollably. God only knows why. They wheeled me into get an X Ray and a CT scan. Put me into the machine and I spent an awful, painful 10 mins in there. I had been asked not to move and my head was hurting like crazy. I was wheeled out only for my family to be told - sorry CT scan not working. You have to shift her somewhere else immediately. We were to get an ambulance to move me but the stupid hospital disagreed because they realised once I went into Apollo I would not come back...the stupidest reason ever! And I thought hospitals were meant to help people...

Anyways my brother piled a wailing me back into the car and we headed towards Apollo. We reached in sometime and luckily the emergency there was much better equipped. I am told there was a very young and handsome Dr on call that day. Sigh! These are the times that smart men walk into my life :). He quickly got my CT scan done ...and everyone was relieved that there was no internal injury. My head injury was superficial. Just that my head by then had swollen up like a balloon and I was still wailing.

All that jostling around had made me immensely nauseous and given the opportunity I threw up wildly in the emergency room. That brought up the antenna around everyone there. The handsome doc (I dont remember his face that clearly)..immediately ordered my admission. I got quickly changed into hospital clothes and before I knew it was hooked up to an IV and was on drips..and then I threw up again :)...and that sealed my fate of being put on observation at the emergency room for the next few hours.

I could suddenly hear the handsome doctor calling my name out loudly into my ears. He kept asking me to lift my right leg, then my left....and I could not for the life of me understand what was wrong with him. He then made me open my eyes - focus here - focus there. Put in a torch light to observe et al. I felt like I was in the circus. Guess all that testing assured him I was still not bleeding inside (though the CT scan had already proved it)...

that followed a night long of periodic tests. I was not not even given water to drink. I was parched. They just gave me enough to wet my mouth. Was told since I threw up twice its not recommended to give me anything oral...my world was still spinning around. I kept slipping in and out of sleep. The patients around me kept changing. I could hear different languages and sounds all through the night. My brother waited all night on the hard seats outside..

One thing worth mentioning though are the people who were on duty that night including the doctor were sweethearts. The male nurses were so well behaved and knew their jobs well. The neuro surgeon was slated to see me the next morning. He got called into an emergency surgery and came around to see me by 1...he said the same things to my dad. Said sometimes though there is no internal bleeding, because of the impact the brain moves and might have collided into the front part of the skull. That in some cases causes bleeding in the front a little later. They had to observe and ascertain none of that happened in my case. I was also complaining of an acute headache and giddiness. So they decided to keep me another day.

I then got moved into the spacious private room on the 4th floor. You will not believe the waiting that is there in this hospital for beds. The emergency room was overflowing with people. There was not a single vacant bed in the hospital....Healthcare business is booming alright!

After my two nights stay at Apollo I was discharged late Sunday afternoon. Brought home heady (no pun intended) from the experience. I have been advised rest and another viewing with the Neuro on Wednesday again...I live to tell the tale (dramatic me in action right now!) My phone switched off. My laptop far away I now seriously need to take stock of my life. It may not have been the worst episode yet - but it might as well have been.

Its definitely time to wake up and smell the coffee! There truly quite a lot that I need to accomplish.
Promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep. Miles to go before I sleep!!