Science, Technology and Humanity- Part I

Science and technology are the two words that have revolutionized the world today. Their importance in the modern world has no greater indicator than the priority level of the nations coveting the "developed" tag attach to it; or perhaps, the charisma, with which those with the tag flaunt it and bully with it. That, however, is quite another story.

Though we hear these two terms from the layman and the scholar alike, it is seldom done carefully, and more often, interchangeably. So aren't they so? Before we even attempt to answer this question, let us look at these words with a purely literal perspective:

Science: (from the Latin scientia, 'knowledge') This in the broadest sense, refers to any systematic knowledge or practice

Technology:Human innovation in action that involves the generation of knowledge and processes to develop systems that solve problems and extend human capabilities

So here they stand crystal clear in their meanings.

However, this discussion is not intended to differentiate between science and technology. This discussion is about the perception of these terms by the common man and the confusion arising from the ignorance of the thin and exceedingly blurring line between the two. A point that should be made clear right now that even though this line may have blurred to give way to a gradual transition and now only a common region exists; still,their specific domains would still be, in all simplicity, theirs.

The trouble with perception of this is not a singular problem. We should realize that our the world is not homogeneous. But in an attempt to make it so, it has been unwittingly divided into two layers.

The first layer is of the abstracts who see the two domains from afar and think they are separate just like the way they always were. They do not know, nor care to find out what is going on in that situation on a microscopic level. Or rather, it can be assumed quite generally that they are afraid of approaching the domain they have considered sacred.

The second layer is of most of our myopic scholars who are right in the midst of the situation. They judge by what they see, and all they see is a blur.

So this is a problem we are facing. There are too few moderates who can stand at a few feet from the problem and see the big picture. What we have in the society seems like two bunch of Idiots who can't see a thing themselves, and yet despise each other.

The Tinted Glass

I killed my father today. And my guilt is that of sheer misunderstanding; a misunderstanding no daughter can afford to have of her father.

I was twelve when I saw my mother die a painful death. I don’t know exactly how. Dad never talked about it. What I did understand was that we could not afford the medicines. After her death we were well off with dad’s meager salary. But dad had seen what money meant in life. Thus after mother’s death, began dad’s maddening pursue of wealth.

I was sent to a boarding school and never came to know how he bought a bungalow in just seven years; or rather I didn’t want to. I feared that truth might shatter the dream world I was in. And thus I lived with a belief that dad’s wealth was ill gotten; a belief so terrifying that I could never confess it to myself.

I realize today that I never really knew him. Dad always appeared to be behind a tinted glass; from where he could see me, but not the vice versa.

He told me a week before our placement that he wanted me to come home. I don’t know that it was the fact that he had never asked for anything before there was something in his voice, but I couldn’t refuse. I came home three days later.

* * *

I rammed into his office without knocking. He was standing facing the window with a faraway look in his eyes; deep in thought. “Dad, the client…” I had just started when he gestured me to stop. It was then that I realized that there was someone else in the room. On the sofa sat a lady- cheeks swollen and red from hours of crying. Tears still hung in her eyes looking for the slightest fault in her defenses to burst out.

He gestured me to leave; but my curiosity would not let me. As I moved out, I wedged my sandal at the door so as to leave it slightly ajar. Standing outside I opened my file and pretended to read.

It was he who spoke first.

“I hope you understand that we simply cannot have a facially deformed person in the P.R. department. It affects the image of the company.”

“But sir!” she started sobbing “he will die.”

“He has lost only his job. But he has you and his kids to live for. What makes you think that he will die?” Dad was still looking out of the window. His voice sounded far away. The lady had calmed down a bit.

“Sir! He has worked like a maniac all these years. And all he has now are his achievements in your company. And he cannot see all that crumble to dust right before his eyes.” She broke down once more “He has attempted suicide once. All he is alive for is the lie that I had got a call from you for a meeting. He will not survive again.”

There was a pause.

“Sorry Mrs.Sen! But the company’s interests are way prior to any individual.”

“But sir…”

“This meeting is over.”

I guess she had started sobbing again. But I heard no more. I staggered back and sunk into a chair. It was all happening. My darkest nightmares were coming true right before my eyes. I felt nauseous.

When I regained my composure, I made the biggest decision in my life.

He was calm when I spoke to him. “Business is along chain of people and resources. But it snaps at a single weak link. And then nobody blames the link.”

“But have you ever realized that the links you are referring to are human beings. Have you no heart?”

“As the heiress of my empire, I would appreciate it if you decided your priorities”

“To hell with your priorities and your empire! I want none of this wealth drenched in tears and blood.”

Now I wonder how those words ever escaped my mouth. But I was blind with rage. Can’t this man see anything? There is a life at stake and he is deciding priorities? I stormed out of the office.

* * *

That was a week ago. This morning I received an email.

Dear daughter,

I accept that I have committed crimes. Maybe not so many against the law as against humanity. But that only makes it all the more unforgivable. But that was long ago. Soon I had realized that there were things more valuable than money. But what I still retain from my early days are my principles.

Remember the lady you saw at the office that day? No! I am not sorry for what I said or did. But yes! I did talk to her husband. He is happy with an alternate career now. And his kids have a scholarship from my company. Thought you would be happy to know that.

The day you left, I realized the truth in your words. I have skeletons in my closet and I cannot pass them onto you. You have lived as you have liked and would continue to do so; away from the dark shadows from my past.

The past week has been hectic for me. I have finished my will and transferred all my assets to you the details of which I have attached.

By the time you would receive this I would have left. Only I didn’t want to die with a heart heavy with guilt.

Love,

Dad

The tinted glass had shattered cruelly.

A Loveletter

This is a very old piece I found stacked somewhere deep inside my records. And I still love its fresh and innocent feeling.

Dear Moon,

There has been something I have wanted to tell you for a very long time. But could not. Har baar main himmat jutata hoon aur phir kho deta hoon. How... how do I tell you this? And what will be your reaction? I have done and undone this letter so many times... only I believe I get enough courage to give it to you this time.

Moon you have been a friend for a long time. We have shared happiness, pain, fun and lots more together. But every time I was with you there was a strange feeling deep inside me. I never could place the feeling anywhere, under any relationship. I never could make out why you and only you evoked this feeling. For a long time I burnt in a fire of this pain and guilt... guilt that this was not right. But I never could drive this feeling away.

Now I think I realize that strange sensation. I have fallen in love with you my M, ever since I saw you, ever since I felt your softness I have lost my heart to you. And however hard I may try to drive off the feeling, I cant seem to. I love you... from deep inside my heart, from all my soul.


I do not know how you would take it. You may be surprised, angry, sad... I don't know. I know your first instinct would be to refuse, for this does not feel right. But against all hope, I hope you would say yes. And this hope is what has kept me alive waiting for an answer. For if you refuse, some part of me will surely die.

I would be waiting for your answer. Any subtle hint... if you dont want to answer. Anything at all. But whether a yes or no please do answer. For a heart here is at stake... a life here is at your mercy.

With love

Yours ever
Sandeep

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The Lady on the Train

She was beautiful. The way she moved uneasily with each cruel shock; the way she fidgeted with her bangles; the way she turned once in a while showing her bare nape.

My wife had warned this was going to be a long train journey. And she had prepared for it with a sleepless night. And I did not even realize when she fell asleep right beside me. But she was very much there… her presence showing up like a barbed wire between me and my adulterous thoughts.

“What am I doing?” I reprimanded myself, “I’m married for a year now and very happy with my wife. The thought of another woman would only mean cheating on her.” But this one looked so divine, so close.

I envied the book she held- that took up so much of her concentration; that gave out a soft moan with each caressing touch of her soft fingers as she turned the pages…

I was pulled off my train of thoughts with a cruel yawn of my wife. It was as if she knew each and every of my fantasies. I felt guilty again. But a brief move as she sided a strand of hair off her face ignited my volatile guilt into the fire of fantasy as I kept staring on an on…

Delhi came as a rude jerk. The people of the whole compartment started filing out. But she kept staring out of the window looking for someone- maybe her husband. I felt an inexplicable pang of jealousy. Her bare nape was still showing. As I and my wife were moving out she suddenly sat upright, her body barely an in inch from my arm. “Should I or shouldn’t I?” It was a moment of moral dilemma and then it all dissolved into a milky mix as I jerked my hand and brushed against her neck.

“What brings on that broad smile?” My dreary eyed wife asked on the platform.

“I just cheated on you!” Despite of her raised eyebrows I knew she would never believe that. “Now look after the luggage else it gets stolen”

I still could not stop smiling.

The twist in the tale

I was almost six months into the relationship; and I must say, we were going smooth. hours of talk, missing each other, sharing problems emotions. A lot of people would easily call this going smooth. But I was unhappy

I was good looking, had poise; and this made me expect something more out of my love life. maybe dancing around trees and tackling goons single handedly was too far fetched. But at least I could expect a chance to show some heroism that would send my heroine spiraling into my arms. Call it “bollywood effect” or just fantasy, I could never get out of the notion that a love story is incomplete until a hero wins his heroine!

And fate would not be generous enough to provide me with a fitting anti hero, I realized my responsibility of adorning my love story with one. So my endeavor began.

Now in needed someone I could trust and who would agree to tarnish his impression in front of a girl for my sake; and whom I could outsmart as a hero. In short I needed a dumbo.

After much persuasion my best friend (especially for this purpose)agreed to play the dark character.

The next problem came with the storyline. I had to be realistic enough and at the same time I could not be harsh to my love.finally we agreed upon a “kahani me twist” story-centered around a 2% drop in her result!!

So we fabricated a letter with emotion and dialogue of our relationship affecting her career and me not wanting to come in the way of her success and all those bits and pieces borrowed from bollywood Hollywood and some even my own!!

I was quite satisfied with the outcome.then came dumbo’s acting.

“see! I made him believe that all this is for your own good” he said handing over the letter “otherwise he would never have agreed. But the truth is that I am more concerned about him. he is wasting a lot of time and I have seen his academics suffer. So I think I don’t have to tell who is responsible?”

He must have acted well; for she stood aghast, rooted. Then followed an eerie silence from her for a couple of days. then suddenly I spotted her in the café with another guy!

I stalked him to find out all I could. He needed some timepass and female company is never refused. Nothing more. I had sleepless nights. What went wrong with a perfectly crafted twist? I never expected this!

After a week of distress I finally steeled myself to call her up.

‘Nalini?’

‘Yes!’

‘This is Sumit’

‘O hi buddy! How’s life’ was it a wrong number?

‘I wanted to talk to you about the guy you are going out with.’

‘Well sumit! I suppose you yourself straightened out things for me. You didn’t want to be with me and I needed company. So I looked elsewhere. Isn’t it straight enough?’

‘Well I…’

‘Isnt that straight enough sumit?’

‘I’m sorry Nalini!’I quietened down.there was a long pause as if she was regaining her composure.

‘Good! So when do we meet then?’

‘Nalini you…’

‘Never mind! I got the story from your friend’s girlfriend. Women are good at getting secrets out of men you see! So at the cafeteria at five thirty?’

I had never felt sillier in my life

I Want To Breathe

It is surprising how,

I get lost in my loneliness

In the milling crowd

I’m shoved, I’m dashed,

Carried to the corner; and stashed

Searching myself in the dark

I am kicked back

In the middle, right in the middle of the sea of people.

And this sea

Flows and churns, tosses and turns,

Until I’m choking, grasping for breath

But I can’t.

‘Cause somebody has been strangling me all the while.

I don’t even know who.

He has no face, no soul, no name,

Only a pair of hands holding my throat.

And I am powerless and down on my knees,

The faces around me blurring; fading away.

I want to fight, but my limbs won’t move.

My body defeated, long before I give up…

It is surprising to know how,

Standing on the shore

I get lost in my loneliness

And trying to find myself

Die a new death

Every day.

My World

Disclaimer: The following post is of purely personal naturegiving some insight deep into me for people who have been that deep. For those who havent, you have nothing to understand and are advised to skip the post.

The world around me appears so strange these days! As I walk through the street each day I see strange people making strange faces at me; telling me strange things. All trying to make me understand things I dont want to know... trying to make me do things I do not want to do.

This is the real world they say.... I say! But if reality is this, I better stay in dreams.

"What is the matter?" I ask, "This place is fast, interesting, exciting. The way you have always wanted it to be. What more do you want? What are you looking for?"

And I reply "Beauty!"
And do I see this beautiful world of mine only in dreams? No my friend. I have a world tucked away safely in a corner of my heart away from hte prying eyes of the world. A world where everything was so beautiful, so pure. A world they say i have outgrown. And they wont let me go back there.
They speak prickly words of wisdom; bind me with chains. But one day I will go back to my beautiful world... where I belong!

Mein Ausdruck

I’m a bad talker. I accept that. And hence I try to keep my trap shut. Well… but that is not always possible you see. And talking is fun. It is spontaneous…unadulterated. You hardly get time to really much before you speak. And you feel good after you have spoken…even if it lands you in trouble. And that is how real expression should be.

I have tried writing too. But it’s never the same. When you write something you have a purpose; an audience. And so you make yourself a barbed wire fence. Then it does not remain fun anymore.

Something else I absolutely desist is typing out my work. I always write with an ink pen or a pencil on a piece of white paper. It’s good to see the instrument form the beautiful letters as they dance on the pearl white dance floor shaping your creation right in front of your eyes; not some surrogate machine doing the magic for you.

I sometimes try to get myself to write all that I want to…convincing myself that it is not meant for public viewing. I do the editing when I have to make a soft copy (Yes! Even I have to. It’s an evil world my friend!). Editing a piece of writing is more like trimming your favorite plant. It might come out better …but you never stop loving the original one. And perhaps that is the reason I still preserve the first drafts of all my pieces.

The Girl Next Door

I moved ever so slightly, casting a seemingly oblivious glance at my surroundings. For a fraction of second, our eyes met; and I immediately retracted them to admire the beauty of my fading shoe polish. But resisting all my attempts my eyeballs again moved towards the corner of my eyes and I caught a glimpse of her. “Oh my God! She’s coming towards me?” All kinds of scary thoughts crept into my mind. I could feel her coming towards me with an angry look asking “Hey mister! Who do you think you are staring at?” and then…

“Excuse me!” said a soft voice from behind, “Do you know which bus to take for Chandni Chowk?” I did not know! But I was desperately searching for words. All those witty remarks so carefully scrutinized and crafted into my vocabulary during my formative years suddenly seemed to evaporate.
“N...no! I do not know.” I stammered back.

I immediately regretted the statement; for, she turned with an “Oh!” and started; perhaps in search of a wittier person. But even as a halfwit I couldn’t let her go. I had fantasized myself in such a situation. I could not let this dream turn into a nightmare. I just had to do…

“You do sing really well!” The words came out of my mouth but the voice was definitely not mine. As if my throat had grown a mind of its own. “Do you take music classes?” I could not believe I was asking her that. “Shut up! Just shut up” I was telling myself. She turned with an amused look on her face.

“I don’t think you ever heard me singing? Did you?”

Ok. No more speech. I’m dumb.

“Didn’t you sing at Sheila auntie’s party?”

I really am dumb.

I imagined my face turning redder than a tomato. I wanted to run, to hide behind one of those buses; get lost in the labyrinths of shops. Why was I talking? I could just shut up let her go. And perhaps I would confront her some other day with better dialogues; and better nerves.

“You didn’t attend Sheila auntie’s kitty party?” She had an amused look. But she had turned fully towards me again. I felt stupid.

“You know…I kind of…. I was just passing by and heard it by chance.”

“And how much of it?” I was unsure of the look.

“Well! Sort of… You know…Full.” I replied meekly.

Both of us started laughing aloud. She had a deep sounding laughter somehow sedimented all my fears. We laughed for a long time I guess. At least it appeared so. When we stopped, she asked smiling “So did you really like it?”

“Yes! It was lovely.”

“What was lovely?” she asked mischievously.

“Well! The song of course!” I felt stupid again.

“Thanks!” She said softly.

A deep rumble indicated the arrival of another bus. “Oh! My bus is here. Can we talk sometime later?”

“Sure!” I said.

“Call me! Byeee!” she said rushing to her bus. I kept staring till the bus disappeared round the corner. It was then it struck me.

She knew which bus to take after all.