About me...

The vast majority of people I can see on Orkut flinch when they face this section of the profile. I can't say that I'm completely at ease with it either, but I've always tried to keep this section filled with something or the other. Most of the time it's just a mini-blog in which I put lyrics or quotes to share with the nice folks who stop and read people's about me's (or do I have this uncommon privilege? Either way, I'm thankful!).

I’m a firm believer that most people are the way they are, in a large part, due to the way they were brought up, and the surroundings, the people and the culture they were exposed to, in their formative years. If I look back at my own childhood, I can see my physicist parents working from morning till evening, and we used to meet at lunch, following which they went back to their department, with just me, my little brother and his nanny at home for the afternoon. And those times were fun. I tried lots of things, some of which I never told anyone about (and I guess this isn’t my autobiography, so I’ll keep it to myself for the time being!) And I still marvel at how busy I used to be with just myself, with no friends for company. Dreaming up entire worlds, making little towns with Lego and Hot Wheels cars, of which I had several. It was probably the happiest time of my life. And then, swinging on the gate, looking out for Mum and Dad to come back, throwing pebbles at dogs to see how they reacted, buying the odd ice-cream while I waited.

And then, I find that my memory has given up on me. I catch the train of recollections again in 6th grade, when I started what was to become my passion in life. I’m talking about Tennis. We had a bunch of 4 guys, and we used to play doubles everyday. And not with much surprise, I can still remember that I never came back before dark, much to the annoyance of my mum. Some things just never change!

Around the same time blossomed another of my more fruitful pursuits, that of reading. The Children’s Library on the campus was a treasure trove of all the collections that children of my age die for. This combination of reading and tennis knit our group in school into a unit whose members still stand by each other today through thick and thin. It was a wonderful group, one filled of achievers, dreamers, exciting, like-minded people, who were just sufficiently different for each of us to be equally good friends outside the class, and competitive rivals within. Needless to say, we thought a great deal of ourselves, and I probably trace the beginnings of the pride-before-everything-else mentality that has both served and hampered me all my life, to this phase.

Then there were the Board exams of grade 10, the first litmus test of my calibre as a student. I had been topping my class for many years, and for many people, it was probably a foregone conclusion that I was going to repeat the feat. But it was to prove the first of many of my achievements in which I surpassed my own expectations, simply because I didn’t think I could do what I eventually did. That one result card changed my life forever. It changed me from a person who could put up with anything, to a person who had to get things to be his way. It instilled a self belief that unfortunately crossed the thin line into the territory of arrogance and presumptuousness. But frankly, had it not been for these two traits, I don’t think I would have made my next target.

From June 3rd, 2000, was the start of a self-destructing pattern that would recur in my life so many times, that I have been in a state of perpetual deja-vu ever since! From that day, the fierce desire to be different became an integral part of my psyche. I never had a lot of problems managing that even earlier, and it was just a matter of time before it became an all-consuming focus of my thought process and my work ethic. With a degree of hubris came the recklessness that occasionally leads to a supernova explosion, but which more often than not, sets back careers, and does irreversible damage to lives. But inspite of all that, I still managed to retain an ends-justify-means approach, which never allowed my preoccupation with method to overshadow purpose. Or at least, I guess it was true for my professional life.

Entering IIT was a milestone which I viewed as an elevation into a hallowed peer group, men and women of intellect, with the potential to shake foundations, as well as to build edifices. I was also aware from the very beginning, that from now on, I could take a million things for granted, because I was one of the chosen few. It was also the start of a period in which I think I was closest to doing things I really wanted to do, with disdain for the consequences. Academics ceased to be top priority, and again, for the first time in my life, I proved to everybody that I was nearly as good at something which had nothing to do with books, classrooms and teachers, my old priorities. Looking back, every hour of practice, of sweat, pain, anger and sacrifice on other fronts was probably worth it. And I know it because any day that I’m down, I only have to hit the courts to realize that I have something with me that I owe to, well, hardly anybody but myself.

Concurrently, I flirted with, and gradually embraced a new status as one of the wild cards in class, capable of the odd top-of-the-class performance, but more often than not, plumbing depths I was hitherto unfamiliar with. And I dare say, it was a masochistic journey. There was an insane amount of satisfaction in seeing the horror writ large on people’s faces when they heard my grades. Of course, I would be lying if I said I tried to do it, but it always turned out the same way. What could have been, had I shown the willingness to ponder over it, would have been a very, very interesting topic to think about.

Towards the end of undergraduate study, however, damage control mode had begun to set in, and I guess I can safely say that Autopilot had taken over the troubled flight. What followed was a golden period, in which I probably did some of the smartest, most confident, and beat-the-rat-race work of my life. I chased a dream to apply and work in a field I had no experience with, and I got away with it. At least to the extent, that I can now hang myself to death with honour in the future, if need be.

All through this journey, I made some incredible friends, apart from seeing in action, some of the most special, gifted, astounding, ridiculous, bold, intelligent, hard-working, focused and ambitious people, that I will ever see. The whole mix was there, and barring the minor matter of opportunity, you could go and take your pick from the motley bunch. It would be a rare man who would say he didn’t find like-minded souls in the group. These were men with obvious shortcomings, with habits so egregious that I would have been kicked out of home had I been a slave to them (come to think of it, I guess I am no better or no worse, and I’m still at home. So that’s open to conjecture!) But they were all, without exception, great people. They respected you, had the ability to see how you were special. They dreamed big, they either hated or loved their lives, but they had a swagger about them that comes with minds that may be in turmoil, in confusion, in uproar, but these minds never ever think small. Behind every one of the men who took his share from the table at the end of our four years together, some rich, some poor, there lurked the shadow of ambition. The sheer inevitability of paying life back in some measure for whatever they had to put up with or whatever they had got themselves into. Believe me, it’s not easy to keep up with such a fellowship of mavericks. And I guess it’s what keeps us all going.

So much for the past. Now the curtain rises again. A new set. New characters. With a dream in the head, stars in the eyes, prayer (or expletive?) on the lips, and sweat in the palms, I start again.

The Iceman Cometh…