Ship of Theseus

Lately I have been doing some thinking... yes that time of the year. 

I belong to a generation that saw fewer inventions and more innovations. What has changed in the last 20 years? A lot? Yes. Enough? May be. Are we in the world that Jetson’s showed us we would be in? Hell No. That by the way is a big bummer. Nevertheless, we still have Facebook, and Uber, smartphones, and Sarahaha.

In this ever changing world there is a constant need to reinvent and yet there is a special value to things that stayed the same. Things for which the time is frozen. It’s like Maggi. I know how it used to taste like, smell like and last time I had it, which was about 25 mins ago, it tasted the same and had the same aroma. May be we like it because it gives us “That ghar wali feeling”. Maggie could very well be a horcrux we never realized we had, it has stayed with us, made us feel safe and for those 10 mins, we would probably go into our happy place. (suck it wai-wai and patanjali noodles)

This paradox is not just limited to things, it’s equally or in fact even more prevalent in humans. With this cut throat competition and ever increasing market potential, you are required to better yourself quickly while you are still at work. Not just learning but unlearning and relearning is equally important. And yet you are expected to stay the same. Be the same person you used to be.

My parents, friends I have known for life, girlfriend, and an auto rickshaw guy, all have said this to me at least once. “You have changed”.

But then is it all that bad?

Whats app has been one hell of an innovation. It’s like that one lucky bastard who gets the highest marks in viva only because his exam is at the exact right time when the professor is in hurry to wind it up. There have been better messaging apps before and after and yet here we are, not paying $ 1/year because Mark is bae!

So anyway, one great thing about WhatsApp and such other messaging apps is the way it has kept us all together, there is literally a group for every god damn gathering that ever took place. In fact there are more groups than individual chats. I was also added into a group chat by this group of Aussies I met somewhere in Germany while we shared the bathroom for roughly 30 seconds. I just received a picture on a group of a girl that looked just like one of our friends who is also on the group. A doppelganger. In fact I am sure I have one of the most common faces in the universe by sheer number of people who have told me they knew someone who looked justttt like me, I am sure my creator endorsed Ctrl C + Ctrl V and idolized Pritam. The conversation right now in the group is about the similarities about that person and my friend and the differences. All fun and games of course.

I recently “backpacked” across Europe with two of my closest friends. Friends, I have now known for almost a decade. Friends that moved places to find their own destiny and figure out their own mantra to happiness. There was a time we would spend days and nights together talking about things that seemed important but clearly weren’t. And then came times when we would meet once a year or may be not even then. Very Dil Chahta Hai..

While there were so many things to see, explore, and absorb from the beautiful towns and lovely people I was also exploring my same old but new friends. Yes, they have changed. 

And here is the grand entrance of the title of the blog, Ship of Theseus: Imagine a ship made of wood. It is so old that each part has undergone some change. All the planks have been replaced; in fact, every single aspect has been replaced. Is it still the same ship?

I am no philosopher but I have this paradox quite sorted in my head. It’s not the same ship. But it is a better one. In all aspects. The new ship will remind you of the old one and that’s great. My friends aren’t the same anymore. They are so much better versions of themselves its remarkable, all are living lives on their own. Surviving completely out of their comfort zones. One speaks a new language; the other has started playing an instrument. Both have enough and more experiences of their journey’s triumphs and failures to completely bug a saint. also all have better hairstyles and are yet positively going bald.

Sitting on College terrace and talking about dreams, to living one across 7000 Kms away it was only possible because they changed. 

I guess the goofs that I met a decade ago were just doppelgangers of my friends I got to meet this year.

I think I should share their pictures on that WhatsApp group. 

Dopplers 2009

Dopplers 2011

Dopplers 2013

2017|Its not the same ship any more

Things I miss, Things I don’t

Things I miss, Things I don’t

For the most part of this adulating phase, I have been telling myself to spend money on experiences and not things. Don’t buy things, invest in them I would remind myself. That way you would have gained something that is long lasting, something that adds value to you and something that’s hard to take away. Explore art, may be it will let you explore yourself. You’ll gain some insight you’ll lose some inhibitions. I am no Buddha, as much I preach to let go, I can’t, and as much I want to stay connected but detached I can’t help but get attached to things. Its harder than you'd think!

Its IPL season and I genuinely believe I have lost interest in cricket since 2011. When my entire generation waited eagerly for something we came very close to during 2003. I still remember the Pepsi ad campaign that had Carl Hooper, Shane Warne and Sachin. Those were the times when Sachin- Shahrukh attempted “Ailla plane” type of ads. But the arrogant bastard from Down Under that is Punter, captaining the Australian team made sure we were far from winning. The team that I still believe was one of the best teams we have ever had, was no match for the Aussies. We lost two matches during the entire world cup and both to the same team. We were the second best team by a huge margin. lots of memories from that world cup though, like many others I can just look at the way scores were displayed on the screen or the Indian jersey and tell you it’s world cup, “that” world cup. Nevertheless, we got our “Mauka Mauka” in 2011, that day and what followed was one unforgettable night and it will forever be remembered by majority of this over populated cricket crazy country.

That was the peak of love for cricket  for me and since then I stopped caring. We win a series, very good,  lose one - no problem! If there is such a thing as nirvana for cricket, this is it.

But for many this isn’t the case. They care, share, breath and believe cricket and all forms of it. Two of my closest friends have absolutely contrasting views on this IPL frenzy. One believes it’s as crucial as any other format of the game; the other believes everything is fixed. From balls to sixes from LBWs to super overs and the rains everything is like Akshay Kumar’s password from Ajnabee. “Everything is planned” he claims. I am amazed with his conviction but I don’t really care. Nirvana remember!?

Only last month one of my relatives went to this IPL match. Super exclusive boxes for ultra VIP people. And in this uber luxury somebody managed to pick their wallet. Thanks to Modi we learnt to live on less cash and more cards, thanks to Modi we learnt the names of security guards outside ATM machines as well (for ATM near my house, its Rakesh during the day and ‘Jonnnie’ after 8 o clock in the night, Rakesh has 2 kids and ‘Jonnnie’ wants to switch jobs and change career line). Anyway soo a new wallet. New home for new monnneayy. This reminded me of the only time (I hope) I lost my wallet. I pretty much gifted it to whoever got it.

I remember being sad about losing whatever little cash I had, being pissed about the hassle I was going to embark on to get the license renewed, debit card blocked and then issue a new one. But what I missed most was the 1 rupee note that my grandmother had signed and given me. One drunk pact on a piece of paper with one of my closest buddies to start a business venture duly signed by witnesses. Ticket to what was a phenomenal match between India and Aus. at Mumbai, incidentally the guy who still believes in cricket, the guy who thinks it’s all fixed and I went for this one. What a game though.  Some memories of my first internship, a worn out bill of first date with her initials, picture of my niece who was wayyy cuter and also gullible to what she now believes aren’t “real magic tricks” (humph. Love, I really could disappear behind my hands and then reappear out of nowhere.. there’s just no way to prove I couldn’t. ) And a corrupted memory card that I hoped one day will work and bring alive so many moments that I would love to relive. Gone.

So it really wasn’t about the wallet. it wasn’t about the perishables. And it wasn’t about things. I was attached to something that was beyond that. Something intangible that had become a part of me or was a reminder of where I came from and what I aspired to be.

It was also a happy realization of something.

Memories I value. Things I don’t.