future

General ravings

My careering career

Mani's avatarMani 11 Comments

For some time now, O most cherished Reader, I’ve been contemplating a change in career.

Not that I’m in a hurry, of course.  

Having voyaged round the sun barely 67 times, and remaining singularly single in status and peculiarly plural in pursuits,  I know I have plenty of time to think about and decide on things like what next to study and forget, what to do when I’m grown up, where to explore work opportunities that bring satori and satisfaction, and so forth.  

Still, I think it’s important to start thinking along these lines while I’m still reasonably fit and independent and flexible in terms of time and commitments…don’t you agree? 

To begin with, I’m really not sure what exactly I want to do.

This, of course, is a huge advantage in planning my future career.

You see, not knowing what exactly I want to do is evidence of my unqualified willingness to absorb new ideas and learn new skills—as unqualified as my general lack of any meaningful academic qualifications. It also underlines my unmatched ability to abandon or forget earlier ideas and skills with equal rapidity. These are, I do believe, attributes that constitute the very foundations of a scientific temper.  All in all, I state without false modesty that I have a mind as uncluttered, unfathomable and uniformly vacant as that of any successful member of the Indian National Congress party: and the Congress, as I have scientifically predicted in an earlier post, is destined to thrash the BJP-led NDA and win the Lok Sabha elections in 2024!

This advantage— of not knowing what I want to do— is further strengthened by the fact that I’m not quite sure what I’m doing now, or indeed what I’ve been doing for the past 30 years.

Before that, I dimly recall, I was a banker, with State Bank of Travancore:  for over 12 years, from end-1979 to late-1992. I quit the bank in 1992,  the year during which the late and much-maligned stockbroker Harshad Mehta raised several thousands of crores of public money from complicit Indian banks and the gullible Indian public with far more ease and success, and far less fuss and public complaint, than any of our Finance Ministers since Independence.  

Let me candidly and freely admit that what I did during my years as banker, too, is no longer clear to me. Indeed, I must add that what I did during those years was never very clear to my erstwhile bank management either.

All I remember is that when I quit being a banker, I was enthused from black topi to pinkie toe with one blazing resolve: to write. And thus it was that in late 1992—armed with a portable typewriter, vivid memories and fanatical purpose— I adopted the guise of a freelance writer; a shabby, worn-out, ink-stained shawl that I still wear with pride, fully 30 years later.

Oh, now I recall a brief summary of my banking career that I wrote in 1994; it was carried as a middle by Times of India—you can read it here.

I also have a LinkedIn profile outlining my writing career! It’s something I created about 17 years ago at the suggestion of a young HR-manager friend. “Everyone needs a LinkedIn profile,” she declared firmly.  (It took nine years for me to discover, with chagrin, that she herself didn’t have one…never trust these HR people.)  I’ve been told my LinkedIn profile is quite therapeutic—it relieves the deepest of manic depressions.

But to return to the point from which I was rudely distracted by myself: namely, my contemplating a career shift.  Without further do, I present a brief resume for your information, entertainment and valuable comments and suggestions. I trust it conveys that I possess vast experience and diverse skills in a range of intensely obscure and significantly pointless vocations and fields.

 [Disclaimer: I shall not be held responsible for any injuries including and not restricted to dislocated jaws, involuntary expulsions of false teeth, sprains or breakages to fingers, bones, etc. caused by slapping or punching hard surfaces in paroxysm of mirth, or any other kinds of physical discomfort or distress that the Reader might undergo in the course of reading this document]

Profile

Basic

Name:  R P Subramanian

Age: Completed 47 years less than 20 years ago.  

Sex: Yes! (Registered readers above 18 years of age may click here for full details)

Marital status.  Singularly plural.

Gender pronoun:  He/Hey Ra/Abbe oye/Saar

Academic

  • Graduate in Science from North Eastern Hill University with Major in Vacuum Speculations and Distinction in Absolutely-Zero Physical Phenomena
  • Advanced research and intensive experimentation on the metabolism of a spectrum of psychoactive cyclic biochemicals including a broad spectrum of naturally occurring cannabinoids and extracts from the flowering Papaver somniferum. Also investigated the neuro-biological effects of the dextro and levo-isomers of certain chiral compounds (notably, 1-phenylpropan-2-amine)
  • Blue Card (‘Good’ ranking) in Class 3, St Edmund’s School, Shillong (1964)

Publications

  • Over 150 highly disclaimed op-ed articles and 400 eminently forgettable letters in Indian Express, Times of India and other mainstream print media; over 300 articles online gathering e-dust
  • Five books and a number of anthologized short stories for children (some of whom have hopefully survived and grown up, older and wiser)
  • About 18 universally unread books on energy efficiency and clean energy technologies in Indian industry

Skill sets  

  • Can walk eight kilometres briskly without forthwith giving up my last meal or my ghost, or alternatively run two kilometres at 24–26 kmph when chased by angry mosquitoes and/or Congress mobs (have demonstrated I can run significantly faster and further when mobs comprise members of  CPI(M) and/or Shiv Sena )
  • Over 40 years’ proven experience running a reasonably clean, dust-free household in which the PM 10 levels are at least 250% lower than the ambient air quality in Delhi.
  • Cooking for over 45 years (mainly veg, some non-veg) with a track record of not having poisoned anybody (yet). 
  • Comprehensive household management including essential O&M tasks such as hand-washing dishes;  jhadoo-pocha; dusting;  hand-washing clothes; Ironing; and primary-level stitching. 
  • Fluent in English and Hindi; proficient in Tamil, Malayalam and Assamese; working knowledge of Marathi and Bengali. Can banter and give gaali in three more Indian languages.

 I eagerly await your comments, most honoured Reader. In the meanwhile, I shall work on my next post, in which I shall outline some career paths that I would like to pursue before the Dreaded Donkeys of Dudgeon decide to pursue me.  

Caught you!!

I knew you’d come here looking for titillation, you naughty devil, you…!!

,

General ravings, Musings

Jhadoo-Pocha reflections

Mani's avatarMani 7 Comments

Jhadoo-Pocha Reflections

“The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.”

[Omar Khayyam]

I’ve always enjoyed doing jhadoo-pocha ; for the same reason I enjoy washing dishes, and scrubbing the bathrooms, and watering plants, and chopping vegetables and cooking and so on.

Jhadoo pocha helps me relax; reflect on things. Today, it helped me remember Omar’s lines.

Sure, jhadoo-pocha can be tough; especially when doing the two flights of stairs, 15 steps each (I live in a duplex). But even as the cervical and lumbar vertebrae perform painful calisthenics in counter-rhythm with the swishing jhadoo, even as the knees buckle and thigh muscles catch fire with every swipe of the pocha-cloth, I remind myself that during ‘normal’ (pre-lockdown) times, my help the incredible Meera does this task cheerfully and uncomplainingly seven days a week. Not just that: Meera dusts the entire flat, and sweeps and washes the terrace too thrice a week, and then she goes and does daily jhadoo- pocha and dusting in a friend’s flat as well, before returning to her own home where she, with her eldest daughter’s help, does jhadoo-pocha and dusting and also cooks and washes dishes and clothes and goes out shopping for supplies and generally does all that it takes to take care of a family of five including two school-going children.

Jhadoo-pocha teaches me humility. Like Covid-19 does.

It reminds me to count my blessings. It reminds me to look on the brighter side of things, and I do believe there’s always a brighter side to things. Even to this Covid-19 pandemic that’s keeping half the world indoors, 24/7, for a month and more.

Like: Covid-19 has at one stroke (or two coughs if you like) solved the climate change crisis. It has achieved what hasn’t been achieved by thirty years of global bickering and conferencing on how to combat climate change by cutting down on CO2 emissions from burning fossil fuels like petrol, diesel, furnace oil and gas. Thanks to Covid-19, almost all transport and industry throughout the world has come to a standstill for a month or more. So, across the world, we’re burning much less fossil fuels than usual (as the IEA graphic shows).

IEA impact of Covid19

And so, even while contemplating the possible extinction of a sizeable proportion of humanity because of Covid-19, I offer a respectful namaskaaram to the little virus for saving all Life on Earth from the devastation that might have been caused by human-induced climate change.

Of course, solving the climate change crisis will bring its own consequences. Like possible job losses to all those whose careers depend on the climate change crisis continuing to remain a crisis because of human stupidity and arrogance, so that they can research and reason and advise and argue and advocate and ideate and implement innovative ideas to avert the energy and climate change and resources crises on an ongoing basis.

People like me!

horror

I write part-time for a research institute that’s working on things like technologies to improve energy efficiency in industry, reduce greenhouse gas emissions, and conserve natural resources. This writing earns me enough so that I can spend time writing what I really like most to write—crap like this—which earns me nothing at all.

So what does the future hold for me, and others like me, if climate change is suddenly no longer a big issue?

What will wildlife conservationists do if threatened species suddenly emerge from where they’ve been hiding fearfully all these decades, and frolic and cavort and thrive as they’ve started to do, thanks to Covid-19 locking up humans indoors and thereby cleansing the air and the land and forests and lakes and rivers and seas of noise and foul emissions and toxic effluents?

What will economists do if there are no discernible economies left to misdirect? What will teachers do if all kids learn what they want to learn online? How will advertisers and marketers avert starvation when no-one’s buying anything anymore because no-one’s making anything anymore and no-one’s got the money anyway?

What will become of the politicians, the religious kooks, the war-mongers, the committed journalists, and all the countless others who survive and prosper by turning human against fellow human by sowing seeds of deceit and suspicion and envy and hatred, watch the ensuing chaos, carnage and mayhem… and then, when the bloodlust is temporarily sated and the mobs vanish into guilt-ridden silence and the raging fires settle, move out cautiously to peck over the remains like buzzards over battlefield carrion, seeking glowing embers of anger and grief that they can use as seed for future anarchy? How will all these men and women survive when the common people realize – as they already are – that we are all united and equally frail, equally vulnerable before Covid-19 the Great Leveller?

Thoughts like these fill me with foreboding…and also a mad exultation.

For 5000 years, we humans in our vanity have believed that the Great Universal Creator (peace be upon the many piece-meal names we have given It) created humans to rule Earth.

Well…Covid-19 reminds us we’ve been a tad arrogant. Viruses don’t have grandiose pretensions like we do. From a virus’ point of view, the Great Universal Creator created humans only to enable the virus to make more little viruses.

That’s all that the virus wants to do. Procreate.

From our myopic viewpoint, the virus’ way of procreating may not seem anywhere close to as much fun as our way of procreating can be for us. But then, who are WE to judge? For all we know, those little viruses are in realms of absolute ecstasy as they take control of our cells and multiply.

And what of the future?

As far as we can tell, viruses don’t think too much about the future. Indeed, the only goal of a virus seems to be to simply BE.

Curiously, learning to simply BE is also the ultimate goal of spiritual seekers among humankind.

Perhaps there’s a lesson hiding in there…

Ancient writings, Remembering

Call to account

Mani's avatarMani 3 Comments

 [Published in the Times of India , 29 January 1994. Now, nearly 30 years later, it’s an appropriate time to re-inflict it upon thee, O hapless and most valued Readers, as I contemplate a career shift while still young…]

Twelve years. For twelve years did I immerse myself in the Sea of Black Ink, but already the memories are fading. Of the thousands of acres of neatly typed audit reports; the yellow and red vouchers; the sing-song tones of head clerks checking the balance books (…two hundred and thirteen fifty, one thousand and four sixty five…); the sweet jingle of token and coin, the rustle of currency notes. Time, then, was measured by the daily day-book, the weekly performance report, the quarterly returns; and the annual  closing was a ceremony in itself, culminating in shrill cries of joy – or sometimes, when the branch office showed a loss of something like 32 lakhs, in the most horrendous moaning, and the only sound to break the silence thereafter would be a sharp rip-and-tear as the manager divested himself of what little hair he had left.

Exciting indeed were those 12 years…

But now, suddenly, here I am.  Adrift upon the oceans,  having cast my anchor overboard and the oars after it.  I’ve quit the bank, and now the memories are slipping away, faster and faster, in a steady stream, soon to become a torrent and then a raging cataract, emptying the mind and leaving a great hollowness to be filled by…what?

My friends have, of course, been of immense support.

“You’re mad,” they said, shaking their heads in disbelief. “No job waiting for you, yet you just up and quit!”

“You’re lucky,” they said excitedly, “Now you can do anything you like! Row a boat across the Brahmaputra, buy an elephant, why, you’re so lucky!”

“You’ve got guts!” they exclaimed. “Just quitting like that…why, wish we could do the same!” Having said which they glanced at their watches and rushed off to their telephones and PCs and deadlines and conferences.

And when they’ve left I look around at my priceless possessions – the accumulated debris of 12 years – and I begin to tremble. Were they right after all? Am I really nuts, or at least a wee bit gaga?

Consider: I have, to my credit, a music system; a mixer; a settee; a guitar; a dhol, clay pot and six flutes; four cushions, twenty potted plants, a few score books and garbled memories.

Where do I go now?

Stop! I cry to myself. Think! Consider and analyse your innermost desires! You can do whatever you set your mind on doing. Focus upon your yearning, give it a direction, and strengthen yourself for the journey with the courage of conviction. Aha! That’s it.

I want to play music. To play the drums and the clay pot before a suitably delirious audience of three million. I want to drive a suburban train. To trek across the Himalayan ranges; to eat from a copper pot cooked over a slow wood fire in a silent pine forest. I want to dream, and to live in my dreams as long as I wish with the option to change channels. I want to write the greatest story ever written…so that they’ll know my name from Managua to Mokokchung.

Dear Ed, do you think I have possibilities?  Please make out your crossed cheque favouring…but there I go again, slipping back into the mindset of yesteryear.

Alas! Like too many I’d come across in those 12 years, this account is overdrawn.