The clock runs out, the hands touch the digits I knew that would come but hoped wasn’t until later, I want my 24 hr clock to run twice as slow so I can continue to dream the dream I wanna dream. Wishful thinking, the clock hands reach the time I had set, the alarm goes off, I add the lifeline also called the snooze button, I buy an additional ten minutes… but that runs out too… I get up, hit the showers and am at the coffee table.
I look out the patio window, it’s a crisp spring morning, the early morning dew was dying and there was a pleasant smell coming through the freshly hydrated grass. As the sunlight glazed the sharp blade of grass, there was idealism about the whole thing. I walked across the living room, retrieved the newspaper and switched on CNN. The coffee was brewing, I love the early morning coffee smell, something about that caffeine spreading across the living room and violating the defenses of your nostril that’s as captivating as anything that early in the morning.
As the dog days of the economy continue to drag down any positive vibe that we seem to procreate, I was preparing myself for another bumpy news day. I was pleasantly surprised, there was an uptick in the DOW Jones and the NASDAQ, the Asian markets were amping it up and there was not a scent of domestic violence report, for one day the news was all good. How often does that happen, as I browse through the pages I get a weird feeling, there was rarely any ad on the paper, for a fleeting moment it felt great, I mean how cool was it to go pages at a time without those annoying ads. But then it didn’t take much longer to realize that this was part of a bigger issue, the ad companies are cutting into the money they expend on the print media.
The online websites and the gazillion blog and classifies sites have taken over some real chunk out of the print media armor. Advertisers no longer need to put in ads that will be viewed by a few thousand folks, they now can advertise on some of the popular sites for millions of potential customers. The shopping and ad market is right now delivered to our laptops. The print media is paying the price for it, with every new generation there is something new that is ushered in, the bullock carts were overtaken by buses and trains as a medium of transport which was in turn overtaken by your motorbikes and cars. Change is the only constant. And the decade of reckoning comes for any aging medium or product that has outlived its purpose.
The newspaper industry is at that crossroad, they are running against time, they are running against a goliath named technology that fits this generation’s denizens; they are in the final stages of becoming outdated. As I read through my newspaper, I saw an article that reported over 208 print medium – mostly newspaper – companies have shutdown since January 2008. That’s a staggering number. Unfortunately for the newspapers there is no comeback, we are in the here and now generation, we want the news in picture and audio the millisecond after it happens not the morning after. I remember the days when ‘The Hindu’ ran a late edition to print scores from the West Indies-India series, so we have a little more updated information. I remember the days when the third one day international of the India-Pakistan cricket series in Toronto would have started and we only had the late edition score from the second one international. Fascinating, of how we were waiting for that newspaper, there literally used to be a tug of war between my brother and I and who got to read the newspaper first.
I remember when I got our first color TV, my grandmother told us about the days when the radio ruled the roast, when All India Radio was the goliath until the TV came. She was mildly surprised when we got the news the day of the event. While the newspaper has been able to brush back the power of the TV and Radio it doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to online reports and blogs. In the battle with TV and radio, there was only so much that a newscast can read to you, ultimately you have to explore the paper for the details, they only reported the top stories, but there is no such luck, with a trillion bloggers at their keyboards every minute, unfortunately this time there is no way out for the print media.
What do we stand to lose and what do we stand to gain, for a start there will be the hundreds of thousands of trees that will be saved from the big old axe, there will be less trash to dump into the ocean, there will also be some bigger losses, like the investigative stories, the on field reporters, the journalists that travel everywhere to report a minute story. Try as best as we can, the bloggers cant duplicate a journalist, we react to news and deliver opinions, we still need the AP and Reuters to print something online for us to opinionate. The reality is that many newspaper companies are going bankrupt, what will happen to investigative journalism, will the newspapers go online only and still fund the reporters, what lies ahead is fascinating and intriguing.
When they stopped production of the 1 paise coin, many nostalgic folks were perturbed, the pervious generation will attest to it, but something integral, that was part of their lives will now be gone, most young kids nowadays will be shocked to learn of a 1 paise coin, that’s what will become of the newspaper and some of our generation folks who still have a soft corner for the medium, will feel the loss. Lets just hope that though the newspapers are dying that creativity, honesty and information continues to inundate us in other forms.
As I sip through my coffee and get ready to leave for work, I think for a moment whether I am holding a soon to be relic in my hands, something whose last days are fast approaching, maybe I should find a cabinet to store a few of these to show the future generation, there was this before the online medium. This was how we got the news, this was how we were informed, this print medium is the grand daddy of information distribution, this print medium taught us, educated us and made us better. Unfortunately that day is approaching faster than we all are anticipating or hoping.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
My First Vote : Reminiscing the election that mattered to me…
It was finally the year, the one I mattered officially… by getting one more year older I earned the right to choose my next leader for the highest office. I was excited, a sense of fresh hope in my veins, a sense of participation in a bigger cause. It’s akin to when you make your first rupee and bring it home and mom glows like you have just cleared the family debt. The feeling of power, after all, I am someone who influences who can lead and represent going forward….
In my early teens, I was a goofball, too much sports, studies when exams were around the corner, wander the streets to play with any other kids a game of cricket. All that appealed to me, where the 3 make shift stumps we came up with either by drawing them on a wall or by unraveling a thick broom and planting them on a soil bank, we had improvised every possible means to come up with stumps, another favorite was any home that had vertical beams in its gates. I wouldn’t call myself a hopeless nomad, but my father figured it out that I need to be reigned in, it was time to put some culture, some science, some discipline and time managements and efficiency in me. But he was careful about it, he didn’t approach me and say “Son, pack the stumps and bats, get the books rolling, or come over here let me teach accounting and ledgers or here let me teach you the nuances of a budget”.
He simply came over and said, “did you check out what Kapil Dev had to say”, I was curious, pre-Sachin, he was my favorite cricketer. I figured there will be something in it that makes sense to me. I don’t remember the contents of it, but I remember not regretting reading the article. My dad continued “Look, the newspaper is a cool thing. It has something interesting and useful for all ages and keeps you informed. It could be trivial or huge… it could tell you what’s going on in Delhi or your next street. I don’t want you to read everything, but read the sports section, you will be hooked onto this thing soon.” I didn’t think ‘Whatever Dad’… but I did think ‘I am not sure this will work’. But it did and I haven’t stopped thanking my dad for getting me hooked on the newspaper.
What started as a fetish for sports columns soon became a monster. I realized soon enough that they ain’t writing about cricket everyday. I slowly browsed other sections and soon enough I used it as a daily morsel for my information craving.
This was all perfect timing, by the time I became an avid fan of the newspaper, I was hooked on the politics section and the coming election. I knew my state’s political parties, their symbols, their partners, their achievements, their letdowns and their history. I even knew who was running for office in the 5 closest constituencies, I was absorbed and knee deep in the vagaries of that election. I was prepared.
As the Election Day approached the heightened tenor of partisan attacks and political wringing were beginning to nauseate me. I started to imagine, what it would be to be an operative, guys who organize the stuff for their leaders, don’t they ever get numb by the process. There was quite a bit of improvisation mixed in along the way, your favorite filmy numbers would be manipulated to sing in the praises of the candidates, when it wasn’t boring or causing a headache it was entertaining and funny.
Election day, it was as if I was taking a finals exam, I had an unease and tension about me, though about a month prior I had finalized on the candidate I was voting for, I had now started rooting for the candidate, the person symbolized a hope I had for the next 5 years, the hope of realizing the policies that were promised over the last 5 months, the ones that appealed to me and the ones that I related to and even yearned for. The moment of reckoning came, I exercised the power that I had, I voted, I am now part of the process that’s going to elect the candidate for the highest office.
Along came the results, the candidate I had voted for lost, but his party won the overall majority. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not, I didn’t vote based on which party he was in, but what my research of the candidate, the convictions and the promises that were made by the individual. I was not sure now, that despite his party winning the overall election, my constituency was going to be helped much. So I felt a little weird.
The next morning, back to my old saddle, the sofa and the corner of the sofa that I liked, the newspaper back in my hand and a strong cup of coffee, I was in my comfort zone. I took a moment to think of the journey I had been on, it was like a roller coaster, from not knowing much about politics or caring about the government to researching on candidates I hadn’t known and furthering that effort and participating in a cause that made sense.
As exciting as it was to be part of the process, I soon realized nothing much changed around me over the next several months, the streets were the same, the potholes were still there, there was still that ugly unfenced statue in the middle of a 6 road intersection, there was still that rusty taste in my water, that same frequency or lack of local buses, the same level of crime and burglary. There was still that wine shop in front of that temple, there was still the same old city. The election that took me on a ride of hope let me down on its results. We the people of my constituency were still the same and we faced the same issues. Lack of governance or lack of caring by my elected officials had left my home district as ugly as it ever was….
I didn’t know what exactly we could do anymore, they say the people have the power to change things and that change is by voting for change. I am not sure I saw those symptoms in my district or my state or my country. My vote was just another number that the voting officials counted and reported. Those tins of papers not only held millions of my countrymen’s choice but also their hope, not only did they held their anger towards indifference but also their quest for change and now along with so many other generations of folks my vote stood there… united with others in it’s despair, pain, longing. My vote now is a piece of paper that will be shredded or fed to the cows. It is as important as that piece of rust on that garbage can in my street.
In my early teens, I was a goofball, too much sports, studies when exams were around the corner, wander the streets to play with any other kids a game of cricket. All that appealed to me, where the 3 make shift stumps we came up with either by drawing them on a wall or by unraveling a thick broom and planting them on a soil bank, we had improvised every possible means to come up with stumps, another favorite was any home that had vertical beams in its gates. I wouldn’t call myself a hopeless nomad, but my father figured it out that I need to be reigned in, it was time to put some culture, some science, some discipline and time managements and efficiency in me. But he was careful about it, he didn’t approach me and say “Son, pack the stumps and bats, get the books rolling, or come over here let me teach accounting and ledgers or here let me teach you the nuances of a budget”.
He simply came over and said, “did you check out what Kapil Dev had to say”, I was curious, pre-Sachin, he was my favorite cricketer. I figured there will be something in it that makes sense to me. I don’t remember the contents of it, but I remember not regretting reading the article. My dad continued “Look, the newspaper is a cool thing. It has something interesting and useful for all ages and keeps you informed. It could be trivial or huge… it could tell you what’s going on in Delhi or your next street. I don’t want you to read everything, but read the sports section, you will be hooked onto this thing soon.” I didn’t think ‘Whatever Dad’… but I did think ‘I am not sure this will work’. But it did and I haven’t stopped thanking my dad for getting me hooked on the newspaper.
What started as a fetish for sports columns soon became a monster. I realized soon enough that they ain’t writing about cricket everyday. I slowly browsed other sections and soon enough I used it as a daily morsel for my information craving.
This was all perfect timing, by the time I became an avid fan of the newspaper, I was hooked on the politics section and the coming election. I knew my state’s political parties, their symbols, their partners, their achievements, their letdowns and their history. I even knew who was running for office in the 5 closest constituencies, I was absorbed and knee deep in the vagaries of that election. I was prepared.
As the Election Day approached the heightened tenor of partisan attacks and political wringing were beginning to nauseate me. I started to imagine, what it would be to be an operative, guys who organize the stuff for their leaders, don’t they ever get numb by the process. There was quite a bit of improvisation mixed in along the way, your favorite filmy numbers would be manipulated to sing in the praises of the candidates, when it wasn’t boring or causing a headache it was entertaining and funny.
Election day, it was as if I was taking a finals exam, I had an unease and tension about me, though about a month prior I had finalized on the candidate I was voting for, I had now started rooting for the candidate, the person symbolized a hope I had for the next 5 years, the hope of realizing the policies that were promised over the last 5 months, the ones that appealed to me and the ones that I related to and even yearned for. The moment of reckoning came, I exercised the power that I had, I voted, I am now part of the process that’s going to elect the candidate for the highest office.
Along came the results, the candidate I had voted for lost, but his party won the overall majority. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not, I didn’t vote based on which party he was in, but what my research of the candidate, the convictions and the promises that were made by the individual. I was not sure now, that despite his party winning the overall election, my constituency was going to be helped much. So I felt a little weird.
The next morning, back to my old saddle, the sofa and the corner of the sofa that I liked, the newspaper back in my hand and a strong cup of coffee, I was in my comfort zone. I took a moment to think of the journey I had been on, it was like a roller coaster, from not knowing much about politics or caring about the government to researching on candidates I hadn’t known and furthering that effort and participating in a cause that made sense.
As exciting as it was to be part of the process, I soon realized nothing much changed around me over the next several months, the streets were the same, the potholes were still there, there was still that ugly unfenced statue in the middle of a 6 road intersection, there was still that rusty taste in my water, that same frequency or lack of local buses, the same level of crime and burglary. There was still that wine shop in front of that temple, there was still the same old city. The election that took me on a ride of hope let me down on its results. We the people of my constituency were still the same and we faced the same issues. Lack of governance or lack of caring by my elected officials had left my home district as ugly as it ever was….
I didn’t know what exactly we could do anymore, they say the people have the power to change things and that change is by voting for change. I am not sure I saw those symptoms in my district or my state or my country. My vote was just another number that the voting officials counted and reported. Those tins of papers not only held millions of my countrymen’s choice but also their hope, not only did they held their anger towards indifference but also their quest for change and now along with so many other generations of folks my vote stood there… united with others in it’s despair, pain, longing. My vote now is a piece of paper that will be shredded or fed to the cows. It is as important as that piece of rust on that garbage can in my street.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Movie review: 13 B Mein Sab Khairiyat Hain: Fear has a new address : Suspense and Soap come together
As concoctions and inspirations go, the movie 13 B is one of the most intriguing cocktails that confront the cine-audience. If we are to describe the movie in singular words, I will choose.. bold, novel, suspenseful (though not edge of the seat thriller stuff), rich, compact, intense. You get the idea, the movie is done pretty well. It’s not one of the great movies to hit the screens this year, but it is certainly one among the intense and certainly watchable ones out there.
Once again, kudos to the backroom team, the art direction, sets, editing, screenplay and direction are quite good and the BGM fits in nicely in most scenes. The cast is simple and effective, the characters are concise yet involved in the whole picture.
At the heart of the movie is a concept that many find hard to come terms with, the evil-ghost spirit concept. The movie is not intended to make you believe they exist, the movie does not even attempt establish the validity of such existence, it merely takes you on a ride where just like Gods and angels are assumed to care for us, evil and spirits are out there to complete unfinished business. What is different from your regular B-grade scare-crow movie is that there is a decent attempt to show civility, while there is blood its not gory, while there is fear its not unbearable, while there is an incredulity that washes your thoughts its not strong enough to not give the story a chance.
One other idea that is somewhat novel in this movie is that, the spirits use living characters as their vehicles to complete their unfinished business. So while they scare these characters they don’t put them into coma or beat them to death like other senseless movies.
The first half was no nonsense, it gets right to the story, no candies, no hulchul… a nice big family moves into the stomping grounds of a once famous mansion that has since been demolished for the monstrosity also known as apartments. The family is subjected to some special treatments along the way, getting bucket loads of good and pitchers of bad news. The lead character, Manohar (Madhavan) has done a credible job. He does what he does best, which is put in decent effort and put out the best output that he is capable of, which he has done in this character. Mannu and a bunch of his family members move into the house and immediately he faces a streak of events that make him believe some alter-force could be in effect in their apartment. A very lively participant that is not a living object in this movie is your very own idiot-box. Precisely around 1pm everyday, only in Mannu’s house a serial seems to air, the soap is eerily similar to the events that are taking place in Mannu’s life. At one point the soap overtakes and stops resembling current events in his life and starts providing future events too. And oh what a coincidence those exact events that happen in the serial seem to happen to Mannu’s family.
The only leap of faith that the director asks you to take is that, spirits and alter-egos not only exist but they are next-generation ready, that they can communicate to you, not in the typical door slamming, tree falling, car failing methods.. but through your television and mobile phones.
The eerie resemblance of events in the serial to his life, makes Manohar travel the path of an investigator and the first half ends with a nice punch. I honestly thought the movie had been on for 2 hours, but it was barely 70 mins in, credit to the director for just cutting out any non-required scenes and packing it all with suspense and thrill. The second half takes a not so typical or atypical tone, as Manohar goes on a quest to get behind the serial and its story. He has a friend in need among the cops to help him out.
Along the way, we learn about the family that may have lived in their land a few decades back and they follow the trails of a gory massacre and eventually the killer gets punished.
The movie is simple and fresh, high marks for editing, story, screenplay and direction, good performances by the cast and overall a decent venture and not a bad way to spend your money. As with any movie, you have to allow the director some leeway and if you are prepared to do that then this movie will be a good watch. Don’t expect a swush-buckler but this certainly a good movie and worth watching once. Rating : B-
Once again, kudos to the backroom team, the art direction, sets, editing, screenplay and direction are quite good and the BGM fits in nicely in most scenes. The cast is simple and effective, the characters are concise yet involved in the whole picture.
At the heart of the movie is a concept that many find hard to come terms with, the evil-ghost spirit concept. The movie is not intended to make you believe they exist, the movie does not even attempt establish the validity of such existence, it merely takes you on a ride where just like Gods and angels are assumed to care for us, evil and spirits are out there to complete unfinished business. What is different from your regular B-grade scare-crow movie is that there is a decent attempt to show civility, while there is blood its not gory, while there is fear its not unbearable, while there is an incredulity that washes your thoughts its not strong enough to not give the story a chance.
One other idea that is somewhat novel in this movie is that, the spirits use living characters as their vehicles to complete their unfinished business. So while they scare these characters they don’t put them into coma or beat them to death like other senseless movies.
The first half was no nonsense, it gets right to the story, no candies, no hulchul… a nice big family moves into the stomping grounds of a once famous mansion that has since been demolished for the monstrosity also known as apartments. The family is subjected to some special treatments along the way, getting bucket loads of good and pitchers of bad news. The lead character, Manohar (Madhavan) has done a credible job. He does what he does best, which is put in decent effort and put out the best output that he is capable of, which he has done in this character. Mannu and a bunch of his family members move into the house and immediately he faces a streak of events that make him believe some alter-force could be in effect in their apartment. A very lively participant that is not a living object in this movie is your very own idiot-box. Precisely around 1pm everyday, only in Mannu’s house a serial seems to air, the soap is eerily similar to the events that are taking place in Mannu’s life. At one point the soap overtakes and stops resembling current events in his life and starts providing future events too. And oh what a coincidence those exact events that happen in the serial seem to happen to Mannu’s family.
The only leap of faith that the director asks you to take is that, spirits and alter-egos not only exist but they are next-generation ready, that they can communicate to you, not in the typical door slamming, tree falling, car failing methods.. but through your television and mobile phones.
The eerie resemblance of events in the serial to his life, makes Manohar travel the path of an investigator and the first half ends with a nice punch. I honestly thought the movie had been on for 2 hours, but it was barely 70 mins in, credit to the director for just cutting out any non-required scenes and packing it all with suspense and thrill. The second half takes a not so typical or atypical tone, as Manohar goes on a quest to get behind the serial and its story. He has a friend in need among the cops to help him out.
Along the way, we learn about the family that may have lived in their land a few decades back and they follow the trails of a gory massacre and eventually the killer gets punished.
The movie is simple and fresh, high marks for editing, story, screenplay and direction, good performances by the cast and overall a decent venture and not a bad way to spend your money. As with any movie, you have to allow the director some leeway and if you are prepared to do that then this movie will be a good watch. Don’t expect a swush-buckler but this certainly a good movie and worth watching once. Rating : B-
Thursday, March 12, 2009
When to bend the rules... when to hug the rules...
Everyday at work or wherever it maybe we are at that time… we come across situations where people bend the rules… it can be as trivial as cutting the line in a candy store or pulling your car into a spot that someone had put their lights for or letting your buddies cut into a line or it could be a little less than trivial stuff like fudging accounts, hiding stuff, not revealing the whole truth when its needed or over-stating your experience on your resume or producing documents proving your credibility even though you only saw them 10 minutes back yourself…
Where do you draw the line.. as to what constitutes an acceptable bend of the rule and what constitutes a down right no-no breaking the rule. Is it down to perception, is it interpretation, is it down to your own courteous attitude, is it your conscience, is it your patience or a personal score card you have that says your can commit 5 wrongs for every 10 rights that you do in life…
Is it crazy to think about such stuff.. I mean do people who bend the rules really think about what they did, say there’s a 20 head count line at a local post office with a min 5 minute processing time per customer, what if your manager walks in, are you obligated to let him cut into your line? If you do let him cut in, is it because you are afraid of him or is it because you like him, is it fair on the hefty number of people standing behind your for the last several minutes.. Does your manager thank his good luck or does he take a minute to feel sorry for the guys he cut infront of, does he feel sorry he put you in such a spot..
I think the simplest answer is that, people who cut in don’t give a rat’s rear.. if they did they wont even think twice about standing in the order they walked into the place. It’s a sad truth, it’s a world of not what you know, but, who you know. At work you can see people who kiss up to the management get the right assignment over someone who talks sense. It happens all the time. I think the only people who think about this is those who are caught in the middle. A guy who always follows the rules doesn’t even notice that a guy cut infront of him, infact he wont care one bit, the guy who cuts in doesn’t care one bit either. It’s the people who follow the rules reluctantly and immediately that get tempted when someone bends it that feel wronged.
They go, “well, that’s what I wanted to do.. but look at him.. he did that… I cant believe the others didn’t notice it..” This is a trivial example. I chuckled today, when I overheard a couple of guys talk this… Dude1.. “Hey did you pay the registration tax for the car” Dude2 “yeah” Dude 1 “How much?” Dude 2 “X” Dude1 “I hope you understated the value of the purchase” Dude2” No, why ?” Dude1”to pay lower taxes.. I did it.. everyone does it” Dude2 “Not me, I wanna sleep well” Dude1 “You are hopeless man”. Crazy right?.. well, for most its not that crazy. A guy who not only understated his car value to pay lesser taxes, mentions to the other guy what an idiot he was for following the rules. The world has turned pale my friends, you can see it everywhere, there’s no place that’s not vulnerable to rule-bending… I fall in the middle group, you know someone who hates when others break the rules or bend the rules but don’t have the guts or the heart to do it myself.
Once a rental car company forgot to charge me for an insurance package I used, it was quite a lot of money for someone like me who lives paycheck to paycheck, I thought for 10 seconds and told them they charged me less. I felt good for about 2 minutes, not good forever because I didn’t tell them immediately.. I thought about “not telling” them… but I did after wrestling with myself. I got a big thank you… that’s it… but how many people do that, what if the cash register guy gives 50 bucks extra, does everyone of you return it. What if they charge you only once for 2 cartons of milk do you go back and pay ? I don’t claim I do it often or everytime… but these are situations that fascinate me.
Then there’s the whole big bad ballgame of politics that people play at work, fudging resumes, fudging tax breaks and misstating information to get more money back. No place is beyond limit for these people, infact I personally know a few friends who invented “teams that they managed” offshore to get quicker green card processing in the US. How crazy is that? Well, not real crazy is they are always used to cutting infront of lines, or stealing parking spots or fudging account information. When you start fudging a little , you just don’t stop. And the crazy part both of those guys are getting their residency approved next week….
At times I laugh at my inability to be like them, at times I cant believe I stick to the rules while others bend it without issues and laugh at us for being incapable to do the same, at times I feel like a moron… the only thing I have going at those times? I get a good night’s sleep, because I can getup in the morning and say, I didn’t cheat a single person till yesterday.. I have a clear conscience..
It’s painful to be an incapable rule bender… but then not.. it feels far better to be a reluctant rule follower and am a proud one at that…
Where do you draw the line.. as to what constitutes an acceptable bend of the rule and what constitutes a down right no-no breaking the rule. Is it down to perception, is it interpretation, is it down to your own courteous attitude, is it your conscience, is it your patience or a personal score card you have that says your can commit 5 wrongs for every 10 rights that you do in life…
Is it crazy to think about such stuff.. I mean do people who bend the rules really think about what they did, say there’s a 20 head count line at a local post office with a min 5 minute processing time per customer, what if your manager walks in, are you obligated to let him cut into your line? If you do let him cut in, is it because you are afraid of him or is it because you like him, is it fair on the hefty number of people standing behind your for the last several minutes.. Does your manager thank his good luck or does he take a minute to feel sorry for the guys he cut infront of, does he feel sorry he put you in such a spot..
I think the simplest answer is that, people who cut in don’t give a rat’s rear.. if they did they wont even think twice about standing in the order they walked into the place. It’s a sad truth, it’s a world of not what you know, but, who you know. At work you can see people who kiss up to the management get the right assignment over someone who talks sense. It happens all the time. I think the only people who think about this is those who are caught in the middle. A guy who always follows the rules doesn’t even notice that a guy cut infront of him, infact he wont care one bit, the guy who cuts in doesn’t care one bit either. It’s the people who follow the rules reluctantly and immediately that get tempted when someone bends it that feel wronged.
They go, “well, that’s what I wanted to do.. but look at him.. he did that… I cant believe the others didn’t notice it..” This is a trivial example. I chuckled today, when I overheard a couple of guys talk this… Dude1.. “Hey did you pay the registration tax for the car” Dude2 “yeah” Dude 1 “How much?” Dude 2 “X” Dude1 “I hope you understated the value of the purchase” Dude2” No, why ?” Dude1”to pay lower taxes.. I did it.. everyone does it” Dude2 “Not me, I wanna sleep well” Dude1 “You are hopeless man”. Crazy right?.. well, for most its not that crazy. A guy who not only understated his car value to pay lesser taxes, mentions to the other guy what an idiot he was for following the rules. The world has turned pale my friends, you can see it everywhere, there’s no place that’s not vulnerable to rule-bending… I fall in the middle group, you know someone who hates when others break the rules or bend the rules but don’t have the guts or the heart to do it myself.
Once a rental car company forgot to charge me for an insurance package I used, it was quite a lot of money for someone like me who lives paycheck to paycheck, I thought for 10 seconds and told them they charged me less. I felt good for about 2 minutes, not good forever because I didn’t tell them immediately.. I thought about “not telling” them… but I did after wrestling with myself. I got a big thank you… that’s it… but how many people do that, what if the cash register guy gives 50 bucks extra, does everyone of you return it. What if they charge you only once for 2 cartons of milk do you go back and pay ? I don’t claim I do it often or everytime… but these are situations that fascinate me.
Then there’s the whole big bad ballgame of politics that people play at work, fudging resumes, fudging tax breaks and misstating information to get more money back. No place is beyond limit for these people, infact I personally know a few friends who invented “teams that they managed” offshore to get quicker green card processing in the US. How crazy is that? Well, not real crazy is they are always used to cutting infront of lines, or stealing parking spots or fudging account information. When you start fudging a little , you just don’t stop. And the crazy part both of those guys are getting their residency approved next week….
At times I laugh at my inability to be like them, at times I cant believe I stick to the rules while others bend it without issues and laugh at us for being incapable to do the same, at times I feel like a moron… the only thing I have going at those times? I get a good night’s sleep, because I can getup in the morning and say, I didn’t cheat a single person till yesterday.. I have a clear conscience..
It’s painful to be an incapable rule bender… but then not.. it feels far better to be a reluctant rule follower and am a proud one at that…
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