Tag: people

A reason to follow

“Love! That’s no reason to follow blindly. What if he gets bored with you and pushes you off a precipice or something?”

“He won’t.” Jess replied in earnest. Jason had already defended her once, and she knew he would forever.

On their first encounter, he saved her from a bully. He then went on his way, but she couldn’t. She stood there every day after that, and he smiled at her as he crossed. The simple friendship soon turned serious, and he took her to meet his parents. They refused. They didn’t want their son to bring home dog ticks.

Get a life!

I had just begun to read One Hundred Years of Solitude. I had left the book on my table while I rummaged in my bag for something when my colleague (a senior) cast me a look as if I were crazy to read such big a book. (It wasn’t that big, still—)

“Why are you reading stuff like this?” He raised his eyebrows in a scorn, then shook his head continuing, “Read about marketing, about selling, business, and technology. Those are the stuff that’s going to help you in future. These are just useless.” He cast a dirty look at the book I had wrapped in a polyethylene cover to protect its beautiful art.

He wasn’t the only one. About three years later, I had a similar conversation with another senior colleague. This time, it was poetry. I had mentioned reading some new poems when he suggested I read about the latest mobile technology instead. Sure, I laughed, I’ll subscribe to all tech magazines and read them, but poetry is for my personal time. And he smiled in a crude way shrugging, “Well, read this during your personal time.”

To which I replied, “I need a life.”

He just laughed it off, but I felt proud of myself. The first time, I was new at the job and worried about being rude to an experienced person at work. The second time, I was more concerned about myself. I had grown up.

But the fact remains: a lot of my colleagues, friends—even my parents—feel that work has become such a large part of our lives that we have no time for anything else. My married colleagues complain how they can’t bond with their in-laws. Some others worry each day that they leave home for work even before their children wake up. Even the typical 9–5 corporate world now has employees clocking in from 8 to 8 or 8 to 12. And it’s not just for a day, it’s for days together.

In a flurry of product launches and a rush of marketing campaigns, we often forget that home is a place away from office. We spend so much time at work, and all of the little time at home thinking about work. The balance goes to the noose.

It’s sad but it’s reality. We’ve lost so much of our life to work that we seldom realise what we’ve lost. We spend all our days toiling to ensure someone else’s luxury while we skip lunches for meetings, put off a family reunion for an official trip, and stay a little longer than midnight to finish testing the code. And the purpose of it all—an extra shift, a higher bonus.

However, at the end of the day, lying in bed, thinking about the tasks for the following day, we fail to feel the warmth of the blankets, hear the soft—yet evident—creak of the fan or the wind tapping against the windows, and notice the curtains swaying in the breeze. Somehow, while we were busy living to work, we lost the will to live at all.

My colleagues are (un)living examples, and I’m walking on the tightrope. It’s time for a change.

No regrets

They had appealed for months. With Jack travelling most of the year and his partner teaching at a nursery, it took all their pleading skills to convince the adoption agency.

They discussed it long enough, knowing a lot would change if a baby came. Jack even worried they’d be bad parents because they seldom had time for each other. Could they raise a child?

That’s the reason to adopt, they concluded. They had drifted from each other, and a child would complete the family.

Applauding at her graduation, Jack and Mark realised adopting her had been their most prudent choice.

Persuasion

When it comes to classic novels, it’s a love or hate relationship. There’s no in-between, no neutrality. At least that’s what I thought.

I bought Persuasion by Jane Austen about a year and a half ago. But I let it rest in my cupboard for a good few months before attempting it. When I did, it took me a long enough to get through just half-way. I admit, it was slow. But I didn’t want to give up.
People had said wonderful things to me about Austen and her Persuasion. And I wanted to see what they saw in her books.

I spoke to a well-read friend, and she mentioned she didn’t like classics like Persuasion. I felt like I had hit a speed bump. Just when I worried that I was the only one doubtful of the book, here was another who was brave enough to admit it. It was reassuring to know that I wasn’t the only one struggling to love Austen.

Not long afterwards, life drifted by, and so did the book. Until a few weeks ago when I decided to finish the goddamn book. Closure is a powerful motivator.
I finished the book in three days and it changed my opinion about Austen and Persuasion. Also, I understood why people had conflicting views about her books.

I liked Persuasion.

The story was great. Anne Elliot’s character is relatable — she isn’t just a pretty face. She hats everything about her false and two-faced society. The small talk, the vain parties—she struggles to get through them on a daily basis. That’s most of today’s women. And Austen wrote this story almost a century ago. That’s the beauty of it, that it holds true even after such a long time. I love how Austen portrays social conventions — how Mr Elliot entertains his rich cousin Lady Dalrymple despite being in weak terms. He worries that Lady Dalrymple hadn’t sent her condolences for his wife’s death (thereby ending ties) only because he hadn’t sent his condolences for the viscount’s death. He wonders how to revive the relationship.

“How to have this anxious business set to rights, and be admitted as cousins again, was the question: and it was a question which, in a more rational manner, neither Lady Russel nor Mr. Elliot thought unimportant.”

“Family connexions were always worth preserving, good company always worth seeking.”

He seeks to trumpet their relationship because of the Lady’s wealth, and not because he cares—that’s the reality of the present society too.

The story was great. But the writing was old. The narrative comprises lengthy sentences, archaic spelling, paragraphs of reported speech, and plenty of passives. Persuasion isn’t for the modern reader. It’s not for the 21st century youth with fleeting memories, and attention spans that span less than a goldfish’s. It’s not for the internet surfer, the scroll-addict, or the lover of the feed.

Persuasion is a classic. It’s for those who read for the pleasure of reading. It’s for those who look below the narrative layer and seek the symbolism in the prose. Complex sentences display the complexity of Austen’s society. Reported speech shows how other characters influence Anne; the words, the thoughts aren’t hers. Weird spellings reveal how outdated the society’s mindset is, even for the 19th century — a mindset that lives even today.

That’s how beautiful the story is. It goes beyond the plot in the page. It takes the reader into the English society that Anne lives in, explaining both in words and in symbols, how others influence our thoughts, our decisions, and the way we live our lives. The book is a truth serum that mirrors our own modern life that isn’t much different from Anne’s.