There are few instances where consistency is maintained between the different versions of the same story or recollection, narrated by different people. The reasons can be aplenty, from wanting to save oneself from impending disaster, to wanting to safeguard one’s line of thought. In the latter case of course, inconsistency is not because they do it deliberately; it’s far from that. It’s because they breach the thin line between fact and opinion. Little do they realize that a large part of the narration is morphed by what they hope, or sometimes, what they dread.
Deliberate suppression of the whole truth has become the new euphemism for lying. But what motives do people have in sharing only a part of the story? As much as they want their mind to be able to take the best decision, there is a constant need for assurance. – But, unfortunately, it’s from someone who has little context of what their dilemma is about, solely because they’ve interspersed their opinions amidst facts. But are they justified in giving up their prerogatives by allowing an alien to interfere into their stream of thoughts?
Now the hard part is when you are the “decision” maker. Regardless of whether your opinion will change the future of the stakeholders drastically, there is an inherent need to understand why you are left with a contradicting set of “anecdotes”. As to why you were chosen to be the “decision” maker, is entirely your fault :)
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
B-R-E-A-K-U-P
The faint music of Cher goes on in the background. The track Believe.. Cher goes on.. Do you believe in love after love.. Do you belive in life after love.. ! His mind is disturbed suddenly. Not for the first time though. He knows this feeling so well by now, one of a deep hollow. A void. An irrepairable loss.
When he split with his significant other, the albatross around his neck was hung!
His eyes close, though not forcing to recollect the images and words, the scenes from a distant memory come back in a flash.
Months have passed since then, but it just seems like yesterday. He recollects with great fondness the playful times of the past, the-lack-of-responsibility-cool-head that he had, the cheerfulness every single morning, the lack of Monday morning blues, the patience and the help-everybody attitude, and most importantly, the sense of accomplishment, the feeling of having won something priceless, that used to cloud his personality those memorable days...
And the ever-smiling happy face that he has today, only to mask his deep void within, that has so much become a part and parcel of his life ever since...
Many a tear bag in the eye has dried up, many a vein has been dissected, but all in vain!
He needs something as drastic as the Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind to be inflicted upon him.
He understands that if you really want to attach yourself, attach yourself to your goals, not people or things. Only his head understands logic. Not his heart.
He wants to put up a statutory warning like the one on cigarette packs, for the ones who are living his past, and are most likely to live his present too, sometime in their future.
As these flashes of form a lump in his throat, he opens his eyes. But The Memory Remains.
When he split with his significant other, the albatross around his neck was hung!
His eyes close, though not forcing to recollect the images and words, the scenes from a distant memory come back in a flash.
Months have passed since then, but it just seems like yesterday. He recollects with great fondness the playful times of the past, the-lack-of-responsibility-cool-head that he had, the cheerfulness every single morning, the lack of Monday morning blues, the patience and the help-everybody attitude, and most importantly, the sense of accomplishment, the feeling of having won something priceless, that used to cloud his personality those memorable days...
And the ever-smiling happy face that he has today, only to mask his deep void within, that has so much become a part and parcel of his life ever since...
Many a tear bag in the eye has dried up, many a vein has been dissected, but all in vain!
He needs something as drastic as the Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind to be inflicted upon him.
He understands that if you really want to attach yourself, attach yourself to your goals, not people or things. Only his head understands logic. Not his heart.
He wants to put up a statutory warning like the one on cigarette packs, for the ones who are living his past, and are most likely to live his present too, sometime in their future.
As these flashes of form a lump in his throat, he opens his eyes. But The Memory Remains.
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