Introspection: Relationships I

Growing up, I've had difficulty in communicating with people. The subjects of my interest did not seem to be in line with my peer group. The inability to find multiple common grounds created a soft barrier. A discussion based on a single mutual interest lasted for a few hours or kept alive the thoughts for a few days. In the lack of a filler, those relations died down pretty soon.

The young adolescent in me came up with a coping-up mechanism. Keep the conversations short, but intense. Spend not too much time with the same person. Collect the memories and cherish them. I assumed that this should keep the conduit open for emotions to flow both ways while I hide the barrier in plain sight.

The earliest flaw I recognized with the mechanism was that I could not live without conversations. If I kept pushing people away, how do I engage my thoughts, emotions, and time? I quickly embraced social media platforms to be able to stay in touch with friends from years ago. I even made new friends. In essence, I found myself among many instead of a few: no best friends, everyone is a friend.

Over the years, I turned nomadic. I was moving places, meeting new people, engaging and disengaging in conversations. Throughout this, I thought I was empathetic. I felt I would have been there for each of them if they needed me. It took until now to realize that I left them by themselves. Even those moments I was there by their side, it just feels like a coincidence.

The ability to express emotions happens only in a conducive environment. Most people internalize and are unable to find safe spaces to express these thoughts. How could they do it with a person who wasn't there with them? In essence, while the little experimental mechanism shielded and protected me, I lost track of a fundamental emotion in life.

The realization that I wasn't around to be that ear, the shoulder, the vent, or the safe space for people in my life overwhelms me today. I'm taking baby steps at 30. I am trying to be there, starting with those I met in the last couple of years. I am trying to repair the bonds and hope to create safe spaces for people in my life.

Being able to express my own emotions, fears, and struggles, rejuvenated the conduits with a few of my friends. For now, as I evolve, I started with peers and those younger than me. It feels more comfortable to communicate, given my self-barriers, and the imperative that I stand with them and not let them slide away from expressing their emotions. I hope to continue on the path, and probably on one day be able to reforge the same with my parents.

#perspectiveat30 #relationship

Been Called Out

A conversation that spanned across 20 hours told me a tale.

I've never made an effort to ask her about herself. The long phone calls and the many texts were just about me. The things told and untold, the Facebook posts to the Instagram videos to the friends and remarks, she read through them all. I was amazed to see her portrayal of me. It was the way I saw myself, and not many else understood.

While she put her inquisitive mind to know me, how did I forget to reciprocate?

Let's start with the self-portrayal. I've been full of myself for most of my life. I believed that my experiences are different and set me apart from traditional labels. So, the quest had been to go out and find more exciting life stories. The varied and the more vibrant the experience, the more I felt drawn to it. Probing was my role. I asked questions, I listened, and I discarded. Well, too high a mark I set.

But, this girl was different. She led the intense questioning. The process was thorough and structured. Rapid fires to in-depth discussions, she dispelled arguments and sought more clarifications. Cut through the thoughts like a hot knife through butter. She is brilliant at what she does.

Throughout the whole process, I did not reciprocate. I was high handed. I, who prided in asking after people, just failed to do that essential thing. And so let run free the assumptions and an undemocratic individual. Unasked advice with no apparent context is what followed. It goes only downhill after that.

Was I callous or carried away?

I probably could shield myself citing I was busy at work and hence did not put in as much effort. Or say, to start with, I might have been distracted. Or, I felt, for once, lovely basking in the sun, being the centre of attention. It was the first time someone took an interest in cutting through my bullshit and looking deep under it. Yet, all these excuses point to my self-centeredness.

Conversations are supposed to be inclusive, and I failed at it. The failure isn't just about being carried away or being callous. I hypothesized and made decisions. We live in our bubbles all too often and think that individual choices are our own with limited impact on others. I found it easy to quote several reasons to back my decisions and was oblivious to the fact that I disabled other voices. Monarchic decisions through censored conversations and false assumptions result in broken relationships and fake democracy. That was what happened.

Apathy, Hypocrisy, and Individualism - I have them all in me!

#recognizingbiases #conversations

What's my politics?

My political identity has been a curious question. I speak of leftist and socialist ideas while running a startup. Aren't businesses supposed to be Capitalist? Can a person promising investors a multi-fold return define himself as a Communist? What is my style of Communism?

Drawing a box and labelling thoughts had never worked for me. I've never been able to express views concisely. So, let me try to put more words to it.

Ideology is a culmination of people, environment, and experiences. My parents never identified themselves by a political party and taught only the principles of empathy. The ability to perceive and empathise with a wide range of people helps in drawing holistic viewpoints. As summarised in an earlier post (Biased), I grew up with lessons in the dignity of labour, equality, and sourcing of knowledge.

Gannavaram, the constituency I was born in, had once been represented by Comrade PS. The influences started creeping in through interactions with my barber, and the newspaper in the saloon, Praja Shakthi. R Narayana Murthy took it to another level with his influential movies. They resonated with my maternal grandmother talking of her cousin, Comrade KS, the founder of the People's War Group. Active party leader on the paternal side added a concurrent touch to it. Communism felt closer to heart. As a fifteen-year-old, I proudly identified myself as a Communist.

The story gets more complicated as knowledge creeps in. I got introduced to the nomenclature of Marxism, Leninism, Maoism, and plenty more thought structures within the Communist identity. The kid in me was confused. (I've not bothered to take a deeper dive into each of these thought processes; maybe it is time I do.)

I hinged on to my understanding of The Motorcycle Diaries. The systems and society prevalent around Marx, Lenin, Mao or Trotsky, inspired their political ideology. As in many cases, using the same yardstick doesn't bring equitable equality. The crux of the learning is to understand their thought process and draw inspiration to create doctrine more pertinent to our ecosystem. We should adopt parts of different ideologies or write ourselves anew.

I continue not to label myself, but use the word Communist to state my inclination broadly. At the very least, it helps in ensuring not to be befriended by the right-wing. My political ideology will continue to evolve with new experiences. I strive to calibrate my moral compass often, to stay relevant to the idea of developing a holistic viewpoint.

#perspectiveat30 #politics