Blank – IX

Institutionalised.

Today is given to thinking about this word, and the different ways in which it applies to each of us. For most of us the source of this word would also be the same – Red in The Shawshank Redemption, speaking of the state of long-term prisoners who’ve been incarcerated for too long to know what is going on outside.

It’s on my mind during the week I rejoin the workforce, 5 days a week, for the next one year at least. The break lasted 9 months, and as much as what I am embarking on is different from what I was doing before, it still makes me wonder. Have we been institutionalised by a 9-5 job, 5 days a week? And does not having that structure leave you a bit…unhinged?

It forced me into questionable choices – like working in a store with a person I was warned about right at the start. But I went ahead, and got burned badly towards the end. But the journey did lead me in interesting directions – mainly the parts where I was writing about the City.

But I cannot escape the fact that life has been “tricky” leading up to all this, that I cannot see my choices separate from my lived reality. Eventually that’s what matters, and there is no changing that, only coping with it. And that’s what will define everything going forward – whether I choose to quit, retire, work, full-time or part-time, it’s the same old question again – how will I cope with it. As Simon and Garfunkel put it “Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to speak with you again”. Or the one I prefer, as they say in Tamizh – பழைய குருடி கதவை திறடி (Tr: Open the door, old blind woman. The old here meaning not old lady, but known for long). There is no reckoning with life without addressing the blind woman.

And yes, I think of the word “institutionalised” applied here also. You get used to that routine of care not knowing a world outside of it. And where does that leave you without it when it ends? That is life too, when the blind woman disappears and you are back out in the world. Oh well, one day at a time, I guess.

(This is a “Blank” post. Like all earlier Blank posts, I use them to cud-chew. Please do not worry. 🙂 )

Blank – VIII

Been a good week, a good ride with a friend and some fun conversations with cousins over beer. And then the Sunday crash happens. A headache that I have been nursing for a while, and all that I have been ignoring and dodging over the weeks, show up and demand that I address them. So much harder when every one of this is something you have been living with for close to a decade and are going to be for a good while with no end in sight.

I like to think there was acceptance of the situation at some point. And at some point during this year that seems to have broken. There were those getaways away from the situation which one lived for, that helped one get through the day. Those were gone with the pandemic. Maybe I thought I had more in me to withstand and be strong through it. And some days there are doubts in that too, questions on how long can one go on, and what if this “long” is too long? How much is too long in any case?

Sometimes the mind puts up best case scenarios, where things resolve by themselves, sudden change in luck, where you are set free to go be at peace. But those are events which you recognise are too much of a long shot, and you yourself have been working against that. Almost like digging your own prison. But then that is the nature of the prison itself, and your action defines you. Choosing something else, makes you someone else.

Fortresses were built over time, painfully, brick by brick, to survive and get through each day. But time has taken its toll, you close a few leaks and move on, more and more keep opening up. Eventually, you wonder if the fortress is itself unsustainable, or maybe the key here is to be constantly building fortresses and never assume you are done. You are done with one, you step back, move on and start building another. The sustainable part might be the building of the fortress, not the fortress itself. There is no rest, only building. The work is never done.

Sometimes I feel the best option is to just respond. Respond to the situation in front of you the best way you can and leave the rest to providence. Plans are always a tough beast to control, you start making them, your eyes lift up and you start looking longer into the horizon, not prepared for what comes at you from the sides. Or you end up doing worse, ignoring what needs to be dealt with looking only at your plans. Eventually it becomes about prioritising oneself or what is expected of oneself? That balance, I guess, makes one what one is. Maybe your choice here defines you. Again, choosing differently makes you a different person?

Such is life.

(This is a “Blank” post. Like all earlier Blank posts, I use them to cud-chew. Please do not worry. 🙂 )

The 10 year job and other ramblings…

Many years back, before this friend/colleague got married and moved to the US, we would meet once every month over beer and dinner, to chat and crib about work. One of the topics that we’d regularly return to, especially when well into the alcohol was about code as art, truth and having beauty by itself. There’d be mention of a few lines of code, so perfectly written that they never had to be touched again. We’d then move onto “My Name is Red” and the ruminations there about what is art and what is beauty. And then finally the purpose of code, which is where we would hit the philosophical roadblock.

The code we wrote ran in routers which were deployed by Internet Service Providers(ISPs), not your average ACT, but those who aggregate the traffic across the world, basically the backbone of the Internet. This market is dominated by the big players like Cisco and Juniper, leaving a 2-5% share that is fought over by many other smaller companies, including ours. So, a minuscule share of the Internet would pass through our code, and of that, we shook our heads, a majority of the traffic is porn. So, all this beauty only to power some porn? We’d drown our miseries in beer. (Of course, there is much to dispute about this statistic, but hey, think beers.)