Generation ‘W’

Shiva had to find Kailasa, Jesus had to spend 40 days without food or water in the desert, Shankaracharya had to climb Kodachadri without a jeep. The things Gods and men have done to find a peaceful place (and then, find themselves) has been quite remarkable. The basic premise of the ascetic way of life is that reduction of sensory inputs helps us focus on ‘inner reality’,  and help us to ‘realise’ ourselves.

But if any of the above mentioned are looking down at today’s world, they would feel somewhat short-changed at the options they had to isolate themselves from the rest of the universe. Our extremely innovative generation has revolutionised the concept of asceticism by turning its basic premise on its head. The Generation of the Walkman (or Generation ‘W’ in my terminology) has completely rethought the way to isolation by realising that an overload of sensory inputs helps us break away from the world, rather than the other way round.

For most of human existence, sound and light have been media for communication between individuals: language, smoke signals, and so on. It seems that using sound and light to achieve the complete opposite — a breakdown of communication — is quite a recent achievement. If one must attribute this to any one artefact, it must be the Walkman. Leisure and entertainment had until then been largely a non-individual activity: you could not play a tape/radio without everyone else listening, and TV time was also a family affair. The earliest form of personal entertainment was probably the boom box:

not very personal, and not very convenient either. Sound and light still played the role evolution had anointed them to play — bringing like minded people together.

With the advent of the enormously successful Walkman and other portable devices like small TVs and ‘transistors’, all this changed. Leisure and entertainment has now become a highly personalised activity. However, Generation ‘W’ has truly matured only in the past half a decade or so. The near universal penetration of the mobile phone and the near universal conversion of mobile phones into miniature boom boxes of the sort above has created a profusion of sound everywhere you go: those who spoke about cacophony and the Tower of Babel ten years ago had no idea what they were talking about. Travel by a night bus or train or sit in a movie theatre, and you will see what a profusion of light means: the advent of super-bright LCD displays has obviated the need to install lighting in most places Gen W frequents.

The sensory load due to listening to four songs and five heated conversations in six languages and the glare from your neighbour’s gigantic LCD display is simply too much for our primitive minds to bear, and they promptly start blocking everything and trying to focus on something inward. And voila, instant nirvana! Whether you want it or not, you will be as disconnected from the rest of the people as they are from you. Of course, then you have the more refined members of Gen W who keep everyone out by using superbly crafted earphones. It removes the necessity of wearing a ‘Don’t disturb’ sign around your neck (or wearing a stern look on your face) while serving the same purpose and informing you about the latest Bollywood hits. And you still have your fingers and eyes to play Angry Birds! The possibility of any sort of conversation with co-travellers who cannot SMS you is gone, and you are in a world of your own. Take that, ascetics who had to struggle in forests without Lays and popcorn!

The most innovative use of this sensory overload, however, is to use them to create virtual islands within larger public spaces. The idea is simple: In the days before the Walkman, if you wanted to have a discreet conversation, you needed to speak into someone’e ear or signal using a predefined code or use Pig Latin. Now, each boom box creates a radius beyond which you are not heard (or so you think), and there seems to be no need to be discreet anymore. You will see this everywhere: Go into the nearest Coffee Day and people seem to be speaking as freely as they would at their homes and, wonder of wonders, you cannot hear a thing. The back seats in a bus are occupied by students who play loud music (how long do their batteries last, really!) and hold even louder conversations, while whispering sweet nothings via SMS to their girlfriends sitting in the front of the same bus. This creation of private spaces amidst increasingly overcrowded public spaces seems to be a very interesting achievement of today’s technology.

The technology of today not only serves the purpose of ‘Disconnecting People’  from each other, but also from the social and natural environment they are a part of. With generous phone makers deciding to throw in a camera along with a phone (and a music player and a video game console and a …), and cameras which make it possible for complete ignoramuses (like yours truly) to take fantastic pictures, nature is no longer something to be savored and enjoyed but something to be pursued and captured in a JPG file. We seem to be taking every small pleasure in our lives and converting them to neuroses. This, of course, perfectly suits those selling these items of desire, but what does it say about us as a society and a culture?

Why slick steps are not enough

Was in a great place called Auroville attending their first Tango festival, and had a fantastic time. Good dancers, eager beginners, good and bad natured people, all had their representatives in the mix of people present there. I had already written something about the dance itself some time ago. What the festival afforded me was an insight into the psychological aspects surrounding Tango, which go beyond the dance floor and into daily life as well.

The ultimate aim of any dance is to merge with the music completely and express what emotions the music evokes through your self. Couple dances add the complication that it is not only one person that has to do this, but two people at the same time. Tango, being completely improvised, adds yet another dimension of having to be in complete sync with what your partner is doing at any particular moment. If you learn the steps in advance, then only the music matters. Being in synchrony with your partner means letting her inside your head, and vice versa, and this can be quite unnerving. Though it is possible to dance a perfectly good tango without this psychological surrender, the experience is not quite the same.

It was not uncommon in the dances I attended in the evenings to see men exhibiting fantastic steps and good control over the dance. However, it was also common to see that the steps had nothing to do with what music was playing. One could see couples moving at 150 km/hour for a 30 km/hour song, violating the ‘ultimate aim’ of any dance. There were others who were musically inclined, but the necessity to show off still made them do smart steps in time to the music. One look at their partners and you could see them frowning all the time, trying desperately to keep in step with their ‘smart’ leaders and the music was completely secondary to them, which is a terrible thing to happen to a dancer. The dance looked attractive from the outside, but speaking to some of them afterward, it was clear that it was not very enjoyable from the inside.

Chemistry away from the dance floor seems to contribute something intangible but omnipresent in the dance. Those who are friendly, affectionate towards your off the dance floor tend to be excellent people to dance with, regardless of their technical capabilities. Having danced with a few people who were more interested about what was happening elsewhere rather than paying complete attention to the dance, Tango then becomes something to be endured rather than enjoyed. On the other hand, dancing with someone who is interested you as a person and not only as a dancer makes it possible to create something deep and intense with steps you learn in the first week of your Tango lessons. That tango allows you to create an instant connection even while dancing with a complete stranger is an added bonus, and something special about it. It is said (probably exaggerated) that women in Argentina won’t marry anyone unless they have danced a tango with him first. Looking back at Auroville, it is not hard to understand why.

So, how does this translate to real life? Tango is about being present in that moment, with that note playing, with this person you are dancing with, trying to make the moment as wonderful as possible for both. There is no ultimate aim. This is the reason that those who dance with some motive in mind, like impressing women or trying to find a soul mate, end up being unpleasant people to dance with. The only way to impress your partner or find your soul mate is to not try consciously. The awareness that you have found something/someone special comes to you only after the song is over. All you are doing by giving your 100% to this particular moment is painting an honest picture of yourself, which you can reflect upon and gain a better understanding of yourself.

Write to be understood, speak to be heard, read to grow. — Some dude.