Sunday, March 29, 2009

Out lie rs

Outliers is a book by Malcolm Gladwell, which analyses the success of people and tries to put the big picture behind the success. As it says, the bigger picture is the things our conventional moral lessons fail to say. It says how society, cultural heritage and chance plays important role in one becoming successful or famous. It is not just one’s talents. What it says is not those people became successful just because they were lucky. It accepts they were talented. But they had something beyond their talents that brought them the fortunes. For some it was where their great grand parents born. For some it was their year of birth or month of birth. Actually these are the things it states as reason for their success more than their talents: When you born, where you born, to whom you born and to whom they were born. It’s interesting and even more convincing. But what it ignores is it doesn’t speak about negative samples. About the people whom even with their talents failed. Well it shrugs of it with the argument those people don’t exist; they are wiped out simply because it’s winners who write history.

The book brings out an interesting fact; any person who succeeds has put 10000 hours of work before he succeeds. Neither one succeeded without that much hours of effort, nor one failed with that much work. What it extrapolates is the people with some advantages (the ones stated above) gets these hours. And the other group doesn’t. Well its huge amount of time to put. You won’t put so much unless you get some feedback, you will give up in middle if you don’t think you can make out. It’s like a marathon. The moment you know you won’t finish, you quit. It’s easy. You can find it sooner. But it applies only to the people who run for the purpose of winning. Not for those people who run for the reason of running. It is the point the book fails to understand. It is true the year of birth plays pivotal role in the Silicon Valley success stories. But it’s more important when they entered into computer field they don’t know it’s the future. They hooked to it because they loved it, not because they thought it will bring them success. That is the fundamental reason. The passion. No one can predict how world takes its course over years. All one can do is to do the things that he love to do. It’s one thing you can see in the people all who succeeded. Bill gates didn’t spend 10000 hours in computer because he predicted it will be the future. It’s true A.R.Rahman got Oscar because he was in music industry when world is shrinking and India is growing. But what’s more important is he didn’t chose music as his profession, because he predicted globalization or because he know what he should do in next 20 years to get Oscar. It’s simply because he loved music. The converse is also true. Take any profession or industry, its not nurtured persons, persons whose parents identified it’s the future and nurtured their offspring, who made their marks in industry. By overwhelming majority its people who are first of it’s kind. What Malcolm Gladwell fails to point out is a single story where a person understood his date of birth advantage, his year of birth advantage, his cultural advantage and chose a profession and marveled in it. He can’t present a case like that simple because it doesn’t exist.


What he says is truth, undisputable but it holds no value. It’s like the fact earth is round for a person who never traveled more than 100 mile from his place of living. It is as much true as saying, sun raises in east is false. But it holds no value. Because at the end of day, what makes this life a worth one is the reason for which it lived. A man loses his life once he knows his life is built on nothing. It is his beliefs, his passion, however foolish they are to the critical eyes, but that’s what keep them running. It’s not the success it gives. Success is just by-product.

P.S.:
An important thing, I learned in this book is that I have to give my 10000 hours of work to make whatever I wrote to be more interesting.

drop-3

There was a sound. It was not disturbing. It does not have a beat or rhythm or anything that could make it as music. It cannot be shrugged as noise or as hissing sound. Actually, he didn’t sense it when it was there. He identified it when it was absent. He felt the difference in its absence. He tried hard to remember how it sounded. He could not put his finger. He could not bring it back, even with his musical talents which brought him awards from every corner of the world. His impotency made him to doubt his senses. Is it true he heard them or he just dreamt as he heard it all these years. Is it just another dream he just woke up from?

Saturday, March 7, 2009

விலாசமில்லாத மடல்

வார்த்தை கடலில் ,
நமக்கான உறவை சொல்லும் வார்த்தை,
சிப்பிக்குள் முத்தாய், எங்கோ...

நான் வருண பகவானல்ல...
ஆனால் பாசியில் இருந்து முத்துக்களை
பிரிக்க தெரிந்தவன்.........

உன்னை நான் அறிமுகபடுத்துவதற்கான வார்த்தை
என்றேனும் சரியான சிப்பியில் விழும்...
என்றேனும் என் கரை தொடும்....

ஆனால்,
அன்று என் அருகில் இருப்பாயா நீ?
இல்லை நம் உறவு
இறந்த காலம் ஆகி இருக்குமோ?


(பி.கு). உனக்கு தெரியும் இது உனக்கு தானென்று..

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Drop-2

You are there. I could sense your body in my breath. Your fragrance fills my nostrils. I feel the heat generated from your body. I stretch my hand to hold you. I wake by the sound of my servant. He came close to me thinking I called him. I nod my head, indicating him to leave. I have meetings to catch up and deals to sign. I am the hope, role model for any aspiring youth. Books were written. My life had been microanalysed: how smart my choices were? How each moved me an inch towards what I am now?

I have everything, still nothing. I am happy, still unhappy. May be my choices were wrong. I should have dropped everything and shall have come with you when you called me. We might be in a house arguing whether we should buy a saree for you or chappal for me with the bonus I got. We might fight everyday. Neighbors might murmur about us with heads low as we cross them. But I will have you. Is that I want? After all these years, I don’t know. I don’t know the answer to the question my dad asked me while I am in my hall and you are in the station waiting for me. It’s a life I never lived, I could never live. I have no answer how could it be. I don’t know which is worthy?

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Drop-1

I shall write, as frequent as, at least a para at a time. It could be about anything including nothing. It shall have simple sentences. Short sentences of small but correct words. It shall attempt nothing other than speaking interestingly. It will be written- rewritten till it’s achieved. It can speak about same things again and again, I can rephrase what some one said, but it shall not use same sentences.

Why it shall present here. The people who reach for this blog can be counted in two hands. They come here because they know me, nothing else. When I started to write here 2 years back I thought it would be a miracle it crosses 10. Here I am close to half century. So I hope I can outlive my expectations.
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“What the hell you mean by, is he normal? He is normal…Yes, He says Let there be lights, even to turn on room light. It’s because he reads lot, dreams lot. He wants to become a playwright. He will become, my son will.” The tiny drop about to spill from her eyes finds place in kerchief.

“Please find him. He didn’t runaway, He is missing. I am a single mother, I drink, smoke, I live selling me. But I am not a bad mother. I love him” Her heart screamed, but her lips only quivered.