LIFO: The Recusant Rule

Till recently, India did not have a no-fly list. A while ago, an Indian MP (Member of Parliament) misbehaved with the staff of an airline. What actually ensued, during that misbehaviour is a matter of discussion (and speculation), which, folks on Twitter have happily voiced, without their seat-belts on. The misbehaviour occurred when the doors of the flight were open. I am further assuming that when the aircraft is “open” there is ground/airport security available (and in charge). As far as I know, Captain of the flight gets authority only when the doors are closed and his or her word is final. Airline staff could have just handed him over to airport security; charged him for assault etc. We live in times when a 140-character tweet gives you all the information you need to be, not just the judge, jury, and executioner; you can even be sarcastic, nasty, abusive, and further. Without a need to investigate or reflect.

Private and public sector airlines came together and listed this MP on a “no-fly” list. Simple — he would not be allowed to fly on any airline. This, when India did not have a government-mandated “no-fly-list.” We have a body, in India, called the DGCA (Directorate General of Civil Aviation) – a regulatory body for, well, you guessed it, civil aviation. The DGCA (or any other government body) was not a part of adding this MP on a no-fly-list (as far as I know, and I may be wrong). The “no-fly” list was issued by the association of airlines. A private body. This one name was declared persona-non-airline-grata. No thought, no plan, just no-fly-list. How will the airlines know if some other passenger with the same name is travelling? What if this MP has a medical emergency? (He has only misbehaved, he is not a terrorist, right?) Many such questions came to my mind.

It all got resolved in a few weeks, and this MP was back flying. A few days ago, I heard that India, now has an official no-fly list. Three degrees and all. It’s scary. I’ll leave it at that.

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But this post is not about that at all. But the irony is stark. I’d assume, bad behaviour is bad behaviour, right? Not so, apparently.

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Airlines in India tend to promote recusant behaviour. As a person who generally respects authority, I find the baggage handling of all airlines to be very peculiar. Now, here are all airlines, asking us to check-in anywhere from two-three hours before, right? So a person like me, does that. I check-in early. That’s good behaviour, right? The new commercial airports in India are happy too, because of passengers like me I end up paying three times for some eatable just to hold something in my hand and chew on. Win, win. For the airline and the airport. But it is actually win-win-lose. And I am the loser. When I land, my bag is the last to come. The recusants are the first to get their bags. LIFO. Last In First Out.

They are the ones who are brought to the front of the security line by the airline staff. Almost every time I have seen this, and I have wondered, why do I follow the rules? I am denied my five minutes in the smoking lounge and the time to buy the overpriced sandwich. Needless to say, these irreverent people are the ones who will carry mobile phones in their pockets, and will be sent back by the security to send their devices through the X-ray machines. Delaying me further, six minutes. I am amused by how they are blinded by the 12 signs asking them to send their devices and wallets through the machine. Why don’t private airports get this? That’s one overpriced sandwich I do not have time to buy! That idiot who you just allowed to cross the line, is not going to buy anything at your illegally overpriced shop. He is going to run to the bus. (If you are certain blue airline. If you are the other blue airline, you get an aerobridge.)

Airlines and airports promote bad behaviour. Commerce eats rules for breakfast. That’s about it. Given my upbringing, my ethics, and my respect for authority, I will continue to behave the way I do. But, if you have no qualms, be a bad boy or a bad girl. You will be rewarded. I actually recommend it.

Little did I know when learning data structures in college, LIFO/FIFO it would have meaning in just more than code.

How, will you use what you learnt in school and college?

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It Ends with You: #ANTHEM 18

Well, it’s not really the end, so to speak. It’s not really the end as much as it is the limit. At least in this song. While the song keeps saying that you are the end – that is not what it means. We are apt to get lost in the literal meaning. And we should be careful. Love knows no end. If it did, it would be so small, so little, so less in meaning – I wouldn’t be love.

17.02.03: For the Love of Red

Living this life that I have lived, I have discovered, it’s not so. Love has limits, ends, boundaries. Unfortunately it has a start and an end, for those who choose to be in love or not. Not for a lover, however; the lover is always in love. You can throw restrictions and strictures at a lover — that person will continue to love, by throwing away the net of conventions.

 

For my readers who do not know Hindi, here’s the translation.

This song states the limit of love; there should be a poetry of how love starts. How it begins. How it is sparked.

That’s just me. But, This song has been on the top of my various playlists. For the first time, it is not the lyrics, but the sense of the song that is making sense. There are people who do not want, necessarily, to be in love. But they need a sense of it.

You can either define limits or you can define love. Not both.

For them, these limits may make sense. For the rest of us..

… ah, well…

It’s Love!

An Unfinished Thought

4958: Grand Ceiling

“How would you write about the end and the beginning…”

“Every beginnin…”

“…without a butterfly, caterpillar, window, sunsets, sky, clouds, linings or the tenses? No metaphors, no telling me what a great artist or a scientist said, no clichés, and definitely no fake quotes.”

“Whatever ends, doesn’t continue; whatever begins, continues.”

“Is that all? Would you write no more?”

“Well, if you took all my devices away from me, all my paints and brushes, deny me any decoration, then that would be all. In any case, there is nothing more to an end or a beginning. It is what it is.”

It’s over and it wont last
It ends, this is the last.
Only for that, it is the end
What’s new, at this end.

“You know what doesn’t have a beginning or an end?”

“What?”

“An unfinished thought.”

“An unfinished thought has a beginning, it hasn’t found its end, as yet.”

“But, if it is unfinished, how de we know where it begins and where it ends?”

“The very fact that it is un-finished…”

“Aaargh. When I began this conversation, I thought it would be fun. I’d like to end it now.”

The End

Shut up; Gently Speaking

I have nothing to say.

That’s easily the worst sentence to start a post.

I recently put the petulant twins — anger and outrage — to sleep. Outrage slept easier than Anger, but it did, eventually.

 I still have respect for those who disagree with me, but I know not, if they do, too.

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This blinking cursor is intimidating.

I have, perhaps, reached the border of wisdom-land, or of insanity-shire. I wouldn’t know; I’ve never been there.

But it is peaceful for sure — just like the chaotic extremes we now live.

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With a difference; one end is true; the other extreme is false.

Events don’t define our lives.

Nothing is permanent. Not even our beliefs. Yet, we hold on to them, for the “security of known misery to the misery of unfamiliar insecurity”.

Sheldon B. Kopp.

In, “If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him.” Paraphrased. Verbatim-ly.

We can speak.

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Paralysed beings with active fingers.

Empowered fingers of shallow, rotting minds, to that one side.

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I take irony and smother her, and strangle her, with four hands.

She laughs back at me.

140.

She is still laughing.

Dead.

Because both of us are alive, we know not, who is dead.

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The power of the medium is not our strength.

We mistook our ability to use the power of the medium for our ability to use our intellect, imagination, and insight.

Like riding a wave.

It’s the nature of the wave that allows us to ride; all we do, is maintain our balance.

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I have nothing to say.

And you should know by now,

I have nothing to say.

PS: This post is right-aligned.

Never Say Never

Our prejudice of people and places puts us in precarious positions. And they are precarious because they potentially inhibit a forward movement (or backward, as the case may be). When whoever coined Never Say Never, I wonder if they were being contradictory on purpose. The last word contradicts the first two or the first word contradicts the last two. Your choice. Some crafty person thought about it I am sure, perhaps waiting for others to see the contradiction.

6904: Never Say Never

In a no – there is an automatic decline of an experience, which is why, recently, I started saying yes. When I look back on my life experiences, I am glad I said yes. For the ones, which I declined, I will never know. Also, it’s easy to step back to a no after you have said yes; it’s seldom possible, vice versa. Then, there are sacrifices that come along with the yes. And it is impossible to weigh known sacrifices with unknown gains that the yes has the potential to bring, at a later unknown date. Then, your yes is a leap—less, of faith—more, of an abstract calculation. With the knowledge that you always can draw out the no card at a later date, when the yes isn’t worth the effort.

No yes, however, should be blind, or, for the sake of it. Our intuition (as against our prejudice) plays an important role in this yes and no of life. It requires a down-calibration of our prejudice and an up-calibration of our intuition. And while the results of a yes or a no may feed our prejudice in some way, it enhances our experience, which, in a very subtle yet sophisticated manner—feeds our intuition.

This little life of ours is capable of experiencing more than we believe it can.

My Life’s Diamond (And I Love You So)

It’s dark outside.

When we close our eyes, it’s dark. The real dark. When we open our eyes, we see much light and colour. But it is a different type of dark. We can discern shapes, depth, colours, structure, and form, but we see nothing.

0748: Artificial Patterns

So we close our eyes.

The big blanket of black at the back of our eyelids is comforting. There are no colours. No shapes. No forms. No need for defining anything. It’s peaceful. It is dark grey when we start, and an impermeable black after a while. For just a while.

Then, it all changes.

Crystalline megastructures float in. They are Prussian blue to begin with. So dark a shade we can hardly differentiate between black and blue. The colours of pain. But the experience is peaceful. A mesh of see-through inter-connected horizontal diamonds of blue. The crystal structures move and transform rapidly, creating combinations hitherto unknown. A mathematical ballet; if only I could tell you the formula. It is a tense structure, stretched from this extreme of my emotion to that.

A gentle press on the eyelids, then; I dive into another world.

Green, like the moss of a discarded lake of yore. Magenta, like the colour of your bangles. Brown, like the magical mud I saw in the Deccan fort. White, like milk before I poured it in the tea. Red, like your carefully smeared rounded bindi. Yellow, like the fresh lemon on a Tuesday afternoon. Pink, like the one we both smiled at, at the store. And as one colour gives way to another, I see, in between, nameless colours. Like the trivial moments we shared. Each eventually forgotten, but always cherished, for their essence. A wild and reckless combination of the bases. I am reminded of organic chemistry. Base colours. Base elements.

Each complex crystal is an idea. A memory. A dream. Each one is transient. This is not a play of time. This is a play of experience.

There is a manner about how I love.

This is how, and how much I love you.

Alone and Lonely

Perhaps, before the end of this year,  we will discover and learn the difference between alone and lonely.

And to do that,  we will have to set out in a way that we never did.