Everyday Life

Español: (Foto recortada) El jugador de fútbol...
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Each passing moment when I am up, about and jumping around is the instance of a huge achievement. I hardly appreciate all those subtly active mini processes which go on all the time to make things work for me. It is a taken for granted aspect of our everyday life and is the best noticed when I am in the midst of a temporary disability. When the tiny muscles twitch and inflammation occurs, when a head ache makes everything go in a swirl and when a conversation with that dear friend assumes an unpleasant flavor. The departure of a loved one tells us of his or her presence in our lives. It is only in the event of such ‘breakdowns’ that the meticulous planning and execution of everyday acts becomes crystal clear.

Achieving these small feats with each passing minute is the result of an unbelievable style of many little systems working in absolute tandem with each other. A wave from the brain travels to the limbs, makes it move, a certain chemical composition in the white and the grey cells of the brain keeps me joyful and a series of socially learnt arts of conversing keeps a friendship going great.

These micro systems in daily life are very tightly coupled with each other. A little malfunction here or there causes the system to collapse. The muscles refuse to take orders from the brain, equilibrium in the chemical composition of the cerebrum goes for a toss and the hitherto really nice friend becomes a source of insecurity and anxiety. This tightly coupled arrangement is definitely amusing. These arrangements provide the frames in which we act. If life is a journey, it has its lessons too. These lessons are often imparted loud and clear. Waking up to a swollen ankle or an aching knee is all that is required to understand how Xavi runs in the soccer field!

Why do not I then realize that this passing moment is a spectacular achievement? It is because I am used to this system. I do not really need to understand its nitty gritties it each time it delivers its aim. We plant a phone in our room and never bother to understand all the machinery that is inside the suave looking plastic cover. We know that we can pick up the receiver when the bell rings and we can hear people talking from the other side of the line. Who thinks of the millions of electrons that make this conversation possible?

A friend in the street waves at us and asks “how are you”? We don’t really wave back and say that “Oh! I have a huge backlog of all my research work that is lying unattended and that I am not very happy and sure about the new search engine privacy policies”. I on most occasion smile back, wave and say “I am fine. thank you”. The other one listening to us generally does not care to find out the veracity of our claim. He considers the matter to be over for the time being. To explore this taken for granted aspects of our everyday lives is the task for a sociology of knowledge which aims at understanding how reality is social constructed. Needless to say that we do not wake up every morning thinking that the sky will be falling on our head! We just rely on a recipe knowledge that is readily available in the form of our past experiences.

Accomplishment of the routine is therefore an event with a significance of the first-rate. All that is needed is a malfunction and we come to realize how efficiently do things actually work for us. Life no doubt is a puzzle and truly speaking ‘it’s complicated’ !



It is often assumed that a vigorous stirring of the intellect and emotions is a possible precondition for the best of an author to emerge. The saddest of thoughts for instance give rise to the sweetest of thoughts, so someone believed. Could not he think of better ways to fool himself and the listeners? This intellect can only be pitied upon. What consideration can be had for the depths of such gloom. Turbulence which is incapable of blocking all orifices through which expression of whatever kind may ooze out is no turbulence at all. It is only energy of some kind. It wasn’t blood if it did not drip from the eyes! Thanks Ghalib!

Is extreme joy or excitement or for that matter a state of extreme sullenness expressible. Should it even be a subject matter that the entire paraphernalia of our expressive faculties even consider bargaining with? The height or the depth of intellectual and emotional upheaval can only be lived through. The tunnels I consider one to be passing through is only a far-fetched imagination. It is a tunnel oo an ocean one plunges in, I cannot say. Liars are those who spoke and believed that they had said. The universe seems the most mysterious when we live through, plunge in or get hit by the extremes. Any possibility of the feeling of passing through these dark tunnels, drowning in these troubled waters or seething in pain of these wounds being communicable does not exist.

What do we then know of things like joy and grief, love and betrayal? Nothing. When the moment comes roaring, none of us even know or can know what happens. Songs of love and adulation, the ones that talk of the ‘saddest thoughts’ are only ways to tell the world that all is fine with me. Had I been a lover, had I been a winner or had I been a loser, I would not have ever succeeded in telling you even a bit about whatever I went through. The music and songs around love and separation we listen to and sing along or the ones we are creators of are things meant to deceive. Life takes a break and we realise all is well. These permutations and combinations just entertain. We feel in control of our senses and feel in control of our worlds. These tidbits refer to the world is what we believe every time we sit for a show. Take my word for it. Things I know that I know about are not what I know about them. These permutations crack very very soon and the pleasure game never lasts forever. There is no such thing of beauty that may be talked about because I do not know of anything which is a joy forever!

It is a pity then to not know of anything about things that matter the most! Sorry…to wind up this one I wrongly said that I know if they matter or not. No one knows. I am going to take those tunnel routes, drown in those waters and cry at some wounds. Nothing much I can do. Suggestions are not invited!