As long as I live..as long as I breathe

Your eyes filled with wonder gazing at me appraisingly...

Your conversations of innocence drawing me to my purest best..

Your relentless pursuit in enticing me to love you...

Your theistic ideals...strengthening my flaccid theism...

Never shall I forget..

As long as I live..as long as I breathe...

Your curly strands of hair..entangling my fingers...

Your silky smooth hands...gliding my arms..

Your firm grip on my hand..strengthening my resolve to take you..and only you...

Your warm hug..scorching my heart and my body..

Never shall I cease to love...

As long as I live..as long as I breathe...

My lapses in judgement...wounding you...

Your sudden fits of rage..wounding me...

My betrayal of our mutual trust...piercing you..

Your hand that left mine...as I frantically tried to hold on...

Never shall I forgive

As long as I live..as long as I breathe..

Your false vows and promises..

Your unyielding heart..as I groveled for mercy..

Your inhumane retorts...as I pleaded for a last chance...

My weakness...my love..my irrevocable mistakes..my sacrifices...my humane acts..

Never shall I cease to hate....

As long as I live..as long as I breathe...

My Name Is KK

"Krishna,you must go to the alumni meet in school with your brother,all the old students have been invited,think of how much the school has done for you",my mom said .I grudgingly agreed.It was true,the school had done so much for me.But I had lost so much there too,would I be like to be reminded of it?...Involuntarily my mind went back to the year 2003.....



THE FALL FROM GRACE
YEAR:2003
Standard:8th
They generally say a star shines brightest before it dies out,the same was true with me.With excellent academic records till my 7th standard, I entered 8th standard.To my glee,I was in a section with all my old friends,friends whom I had last been with only in my 3rd or 4th grades.The class had the best brains competing with each other for the numero uno position.We were informed that our 8th,9th and 10th performance would be closely monitored and would serve as a criteria for our post 10th admissions in the school.This only added fuel to the fire and we were forced to work doubly hard.
The year began,and very soon tests were announced.For reasons that I initially couldn't fathom I began losing interest in academics.It was all a part of growing up I realised years later,adolescence.Unfinished homeworks,incomplete records,parent-teacher meetings,a sudden curiosity in the opposite sex and a sudden interest in making myself look better.Of course it wasn't like I was the only one who was growing up,others were too...but let me just say I did not handle adolescence very well.This I can say because my friends were doing really well in their studies.My academics reached an all time low and I barely was scraping through the tests and exams.And believe me,I did not know why I couldn't do well,to cover up for my poor academics I began lying to my friends about my marks because I did not have the courage to face failure,especially when I knew that 'once upon a time' I was better than all of them.They too knew that I was lying,so on purpose they would call me and ask me my marks,and once I told them my marks they would exchange knowing glances at each other..
The academic year finally came to an end,thanks to the support of my parents and my classteacher(Miss Sneha) I had managed to clear 8th standard.Little did I know the effects of all this would be permanent....



POST 8TH STANDARDUsually success inevitably arouses a ravenous envy.Failure is more palatable.When failure becomes chronic,the flashbulbs move away and the flowers stop coming.Post 8th standard,the flowers stopped coming to me too....
Year 2004
Standard :9th
History is marked by A.D and B.C.But for me,there is a period that I will term as 'post 8th standard'.I would realise in due time the full magnitude of what one year's failure could do to a person's life.I generally believed that my odd years in education(like 3rd,5th and 7th standard) were far better than my even years,so in a way I was looking forward to my 9th standard.
The year began,I had a nice class I thought and promised myself that I would make up for the previous year's loss.But,I was mistaken.Academicswise there was a marginal improvement I thought.However,that improvement wasn't good enough to make friends.Academics suddenly became a criteria for friendship,once upon a time friends gave me the cold shoulder,I was confused because there were many others who were even worse than me,but they had friends.Reason...they were cool while I wasn't.
Cool esentially meant,a fancy hairstyle,hanging out with the gals and making them laugh and appear chilled about everything.I did mention about my curiosity with the opposite sex,but let me be frank I just did not know how to behave in front of gals.I was pretty direct with most of them,they found me indecent,perverted and unattractive.But this was least of my worries,word had spread through most of the classmates that I wasn't really good academics and stuff,so it would be better to stay away from me....I dreaded going to school those days,because my classmates were indifferent to my presence in class.Customary Hi,Hello's were all ignored....all this took a heavy toll on my mind,for one thing I can admit I am an emotional person.And I had no idea what academics or being cool had to do with friendship...My class teacher called me a very average student in front of my parents.My parents without my knowledge called one of my 'former' friends home and requested him to include me as one of his friends and said that I was going through a bad phase and I would be ok soon.......Strange right?
MY LAST YEAR IN SCHOOL


Year :2005
Standard: 10th
10th standard,one of those years that is really important to a person's life.By now I knew that my chances of staying in school after 10th were mild and I had to buck up and do really well if I wanted to stay.I had raised the expectations of most teachers because I was the brother of a former school captain and in the words of the teachers 'a model student' .The first tests came to an end,I had flunked both my math papers,my science scores were in 60s and 70s.I had remedial classes in school for these.And by now,most of my friends and teachers were convinced about my worthlessness..I still vividly recall one incident in class.
It was the maths period,we had finished doing our problems.So as always I picked up a novel and started reading it.My maths teacher saw that and called out"Krishna Kumar,what are you reading?".I replied"A novel Sir".He gave me a sarcastic smile and said"You dont read your school books only,what will you read or understand from novels"?.Those words hit me with an incredible force and for the first time I realised what it feels to be like a loser.I was still the lone wolf,and I was used to being alone by then.
By god's grace,my performance suddenly showed improvement after my first preps.That progressed steadily and I managed to do pretty well in my boards too...84.4%.It was not something really great,my 'former friends' were in the 90s...but then for someone who was written off,I thought it was truly credible.I was finally relieved,I would have friends again....but I spoke too soon.For one it took me a while for the truth to sink in,I was no longer in school.My name wasn't there in the 90 odd students who were selected for their 11th and 12th in NPS.I made repeated visits to the school requesting my teachers and vice principal to give me one chance...all in vain.
1ST AND 2Nd P.U


Years:2006 & 2007
My previous blog entry describe my p.u ,so I wouldn't get into those details.One thing I did miss my school a lot,I vividly remember,though I used to get off in Bhashyam Circle from my bus,I used to make frequent detours to school and peer through the walls longingly at my friends inside..and desperately wishing I could be there too.I wasnt sure if they still hated me,so I used to walk in front of them purposely so that they would speak to me,all in vain....no change
April 15th ,we were supposed to be takin up our VIT entrance exam.Only after going to the examination hall I realised that I would be meeting my schoolmates here.I finished my exam,one of my p.u friends had a friend in NPS.He wanted to speak to her.I knew her,and I remember her as the gal who called me SRK in 3rd standard.She came to speak to my friend,that's when she looked upto me and said"Oh!Krishna Kumar is it?U writing these exams too,tough to believe!" and walked away....Nothing had changed....In a few months,the results of VIT were declared,and to my happiness I beat half the NPSites in it,especially that gal,we had a difference of close to 8000 ranks.
That was it,I joined RV,A FEW NPSites who messed up their 12th came upto me during our fest and asked me how much I had to pay to get a seat in RV.....

THE ALUMNI MEET
DECEMBER 2009
I finally decided to go to school with my bro for the alumni meet.It was the first time I had set my foot in school after passing out,and for the first time I would be meeting my schoolmates.I walked into school with confidence that I had nothing to be ashamed of now and that I was as good as any of them.The teachers were really warm to me and I was surprised that they remembered me.I waited to see which of my friends would turn up.About 8 of them did turn up,it was the first time I was seeing them in years and memories of the time we spent together flooded me.I was siezed by a sudden impulse to speak to them and tell them how much their friendship would mean to me....
When you generally meet a person after years together,you say more than just a 'hi' or 'hello'.I saw two of my class gals,I walked upto them and said"hey hi,long time!".They looked at me with cold indifference,said "hi" and just walked off..leaving me gaping at them.They joined a gang of other boys and gals and began conversing.Being shameless I followed them and stood near the group.The gang took no notice of me,or if they did they did not show it....Finally,it was photos time,we were called for the photos.batches 2005-2008 were put together.I smiled to myself,now my classmates would definitely speak to me.We sat for the photos,there was one gal next to me,I knew her pretty well in school,so I tried to initiate a conversation with her.To my dismay,she ignored me and started speaking to my juniors whom she did'nt even know.She started asking them their names and stuff leaving me alone again.
I had enough,I had a silent lunch in school all alone.My batchmates were busy clicking group photos and they had fun,I watched them longingly....and then began walking back home trying to contemplate all that happened....




I dont really know the reason as to why I am being discriminated.Is it my looks?Am I too short?Isn't Sachin Tendulkar short too?Is it because I was bad in academics?Wasn't Bill Gates,a dropout?I am not as great as them but then ...I am personally at a loss of words...To all my NPS batchmates...."My Name Is KK,And I Am Not A Bad Guy...."if thats what all of you think of me...
And to all my P.U and R.V friends..batchmates,seniors and juniors...thank you for making me feel that I'm loved...so much that I seldom think of my NPS friends(if i could call them that),I am fortunate to have you people around and I thank you for bearing with me...I shall try and entertain all of you as much as possible,so much so that when I die...I would like this to be engraved on my grave..
"Here lies a man who tried to keep people smiling when he was alive and desperately hoped that he was successful in doing so"..........

The Wonder Years.....Year 1-1st PUC

I had to finish this post long back,but I just couldn't find time.Nevertheless I have continued from where I left it and I havent bothered changing the date in the post as well.Hope I have done justice to it,and let me warn you guys...this post is in stark contrast to my previous post.You would find it tough to believe that the same guy penned both these posts.Read at your own risk..Happy Reading!

Itz March 27th today.Happy Ugadi to all my Kannadiga and Telegu friends,being a Tamilian and celebratin our new year on April 14th ..I don't really have much to do (my stomach is giving a guilty squirm..I have a quiz on Monday)..which explains why I am bloggin after 8 months.No idea why,but today's holiday just acted like a Pensieve(you would know what this means if you read the Harry Potter series).I delved right into my past and my god,what an experience life has been...atleast over the last four years.

I finished my 10th from National Public School,after which I had to seek admissons outside for my 11th and 12th.I was admitted to MES-KK,the same college my brother went to,after he finished his 10th.I have always been the 'delicate darling' of my house.My Mom says I had lots of health problems when I was a kid;asthma since birth..lots of stuff.So there have always been lots of restrictions imposed on me.The first time I went out to play was sometime in my 6th standard I guess,believe that??School was just two lanes away,so for 12 whole years my hangout was restricted to just those two lanes,from home to school and back again...nothing in between,in fact I have never gone out with my friends and stuff till the end of my first P.U.

So,I was a bit apprenhensive when I entered MES-KK,there were very few people whom I knew.Being the first day of the academic year,my Dad dropped me to college.He warned me though"Krishna,dont get used to the luxury of the car,you will have to travel by the public bus soon".I still remember Mom and Dad arguing over this matter,my Mom repeatedly insisting that I take an auto and not a bus,while my Dad felt this would be the most foolish thing to do.Enter college,the first day was quite an experience.As I made my way through the gates,a middle aged man with a white shirt(untucked),black formal trousers,and neatly polished black shoes was ushering students with fancy outfits out through the gates.Assuming him to be the peon,I smiled thinking of my school peons(they never wore shoes).We stood in lines for the assembly,and wonder of wonders..I see that 'peon' addressing all of us and calling himself

'The Principal'.That was my first shock in college.

Coming from a CBSE school,I was quite surprised to see that most of the students conversed in Kannada,surprise turned to shock when the teachers started conversing in Kannada as well.Honestly speaking,the only people with whom I had conversed in Kannada were my neighbours.So on the first day,last period,I think it was Chemistry,being handled by a certain 'Meera Shastry' Mam,she started with the roll call....

MAM:"Krishna Kumar"

ME:"Present Mam"

MAM:"Which school?"

ME:"NPS"

MAM:"Yenappa,National public school short form NPS a...?"

the words escaped me even before I knew it..

ME:"Howdhu Aunty"

The whole class burst into laughter while I gave the teacher a rather sheepish grin and sat down.I hung out with my schoolmates for the first few days.Being held under control back in school..my friends wanted to have a bit of fun.Their idea of fun didn't particularly impress me,that is when I entered another group..probably the best group I've ever been in.It was a group of five,Arjun,Aniket,Tejas,Rahul and me.We had great fun,be it the class girls drooling over Rahul or Tejas and me checkin out gals worthy of ourselves,Arjun's sarcasm,or our frequent attempts to pull Aniket's leg...Well,now that I had found myself a group,the next problem was the my means of commuting to college.Dad finally won the argument with Mom,there it was...I had to take a public bus to college.I still remember that day,Dad dropped me to college,asked me to take a rick back home..and said from the following week it would be BMTC.Well,I shrugged and said "ok".That day,on the way back from college,a sudden burst of inspiration forced me to walk towards the bus-stop instead of taking an auto.With great confidence,I walked to the bus-stop.A bus came roaring towards me,i saw the number:it read:75A.I hopped onto it and said"BHASHYAM CIRCLE".The conductor blew the whistle and the bus took off,just to confirm things i asked the conductor"Sir,idhu bhashyam circle hogatha?"(typical Tamilian accent).He said:"Howdhu,SADASHIVANAGAR BHASHYAM CIRCLE hogathe".That was it,i got off the bus,and to my dismay realised..I was standing in the bus-stop which had buses going towards Malleshwaram and not away from it.To put it in a nut-shell,I was travelling towards college again because I did'nt know there was a bus-stop opposite to the one where I was standing that had buses going towards my residence.Ultimately I took a rick,told my parents about this goof-up of mine.They all had a hearty laugh,and yeah,pretty soon the matter seemed a point of common discussion with most of my friends.Nevertheless,over the next few weeks,I slowly got accustomed to BMTC.So,I guess..that was my first adventure in P.U.

Moving on,P.U posed a new dilemma...my attire,unlike school where you had an uniform,here in college,everyday seemed like a birthday.Wake up,squint through my cupboard,remind myself of the dress-code and pick up something which didn't violate it.You wouldn't believe it..my dresses were never the same for close to two whole months in college.Slowly,the initial enthu wore out...and I started worrying less about my dresses.Two months into college,I was badly in need of a haircut.Back at school,we were expected to have really short hair and stuff,so assuming the same..I had a really 'short haircut' and walked down to college.Well,this was about the same time the tamil version of 'Ghajini' had released,so as I entered the class..all my friends in unison shouted"ghajini,ghajini...".Well,I never believed them at that point,but now years later...as my classmates tell me that I bear a distinct resemblance to the lead of Ghajini 'Suriya'..

I am forced to concede that there is some similarity.Anyways,that was the last time I ever had my hair cut so short.

Slowly but steadily,I grew familiar with the state board syllabus and their way of doing things.Dad was transferred to Chennai,so Mom accompanied me to the bus-stop everyday,she would keep advising me,telling me not to get distracted,never indulge in smoking,booz,drugs and stuff...Academicswise I just can't complain,everything went my way,I had made a lot of friends,we had a big Tamilian group in class.Still remember the snide comments Nithesh and me used to make at some gals in class.Those bus journeys with Swathi from tutions...Man,really miss those days!

My group was an 'ALL-IIT' group,meaning I was a misfit to it.Yeah,you read it right.While most parents encouraged their children right from their young days that 'IIT is your place' and stuff like that,my parents wanted me to follow my brother's footsteps.Which means I had to land up in RVCE,thankfully I didn't disappoint them.So in our group of 5;Aniket,Arjun and Rahul had enrolled themselves in BASE.Tejas had taken up correspondence from BRILLIANT TUTORIALS.I had to do something,if not IIT..atleast PUC.So after many arguments and stuff,my parents enrolled me in this place called CHIPS-IITJEE.

We usually say "Never Judge a book by it's Cover"..but let me rephrase it for you ladies and gentlemen : "Never Judge a Tution by It's Name".This was probably the most f%@$%& place you could find on this planet.I opted for the PUC-AIEEE combo...envisioning myself as a proud Computer Science in NIT-K.Alas!The dream ended there.This place successfully dragged me away from my dream,and even made me doubt my capability of getting into RVCE.Having swindled 2500 bucks for AIEEE,there wasn't even a single class regarding the same.If any of us posed a question...

STUDENT: What exactly is the number system?

PROF: Number System andhre...Number System.

I have just quoted an example,but we people posed better questions than this..but the answers were always the same.With no progress in AIEEE,Nithesh and me had decided it was time to pay them back in their own coin.They boasted of a wonderful library...ahem.All that I'll say is this...they would never be able to boast of it again.Nithesh and Swathi,hope you folks are reading this.Kamineys..that is what we were(Nithesh and me)..and frankly I dont think the both of us have even bothered wiping that image off us.

Back to college,the year had almost come to an end.We were asked to submit articles for the college magazine 'SRJANA'..I guess.I remember submitting an article titled '20 years down the lane' which I guess was well appreciated(Applause!).Swathi took the trouble of showing it to her Dad too,I sincerely apologise Uncle...that article was written in a moment of passion...really sorry for putting you through it.One of my classmates even asked me something regarding the article...that made my eyes pop out(Hope you are reading this Thej).

The year ended,it was the last day of college...and as I walked out through the gates...I had to admit I had been really nerdy that year.I watched one of the hot gals of my class walking out..without so much as a backward glance at me.And that was when I changed.....KK's kameenapan had just begun.......

END OF YEAR 1

The Things That You Think And Don't Say

It's 1 AM and this might be the bad pizza I had earlier talking, but I believe I have something to say. Or rather, I have something to say that I believe in. My father once said, "Get the bad news over with first. You be the one to say the tough stuff." Well, here goes. There is a cruel wind blowing through our lives. We all feel it, and if we don't, perhaps we've forgotten how to feel. But here is the truth.We are less ourselves than we were when we started this life of ours.
I remember the conversation my friend and I had "You and I are blessed, he said, "we do something that we love."
Tonight, I find those words guiding me back to an important place, and an important truth. I care very much about the fact that I have learned to care less.Our college is one of the top three in this city and we represent over a thousand students.The heights of competition has never been bigger, or tougher, or more written about.And we are at the forefront. But I wonder today,as I make my way out of college we've talked a lot and partied a lot over the last three days, but I dare say that not one of us have said what we really think.
It is beyond the easy arguments waged against college,and our college on the pages of the Times Of India.It's more subtle than the baseball strike, than Sourav Ganguly's retirement,Abhiram's branch transfer....I'm talking about something they don't write about. I'm talking about something we don't talk about.
We are losing our battle with all that is personal and real about our academics.Every day I can look at a list of subjects only partially attended to.Returning home,I think of only what was not accomplished,instead of what was accomplished.The gnawing feeling continues.We are pushing ourselves around, doing our best, but is there any real satisfaction in success without pride? Is there any real satisfaction in a success that exists only when we push the messiness of real human contact from our lives and minds?
There is a good bet that I will erase all of this from my pc,and you will never read it. But if you are reading it, and you're reading it right now, it is only because I was unable to stop.I was unable to forget the quiet questions in the hallways, when some of my juniors asked me on the side: "How do you manage to keep all these subjects,their relevance separated in your mind?" Chances are, I didn't say much. I might have told them "it's easy," or, "you're not working hard enough." Chances are, I said something that they expected, maybe even wanted to hear. But it wasn't the truth, and it wasn't what I felt. And if you ever wondered about the drawbacks of being quiet about important things, talk to yourself in the mirror some time, say the truth. Yell the truth to yourself, when no one is listening. See how good it feels? "Every time you allow a problem in your life, you are actually at a point of transformation. Crisis is a powerful point of transformation."
Even in my own life, after 18 years feel that I have never done that one thing, that noble thing that defines a life. Even writing this Mission Statement is odd for me. I am used to enjoying my life and friends.Later later later later. It is too easy to say "later" because we all believe our work to be too important to stop, minute to minute, for something that might interfere with the restless and relentless pursuit of forward motion. Of greater success. Make no mistake, I am a huge fan of success. But tonight, I propose a better kind of success. I could be wrong, but if you keep reading and I keep writing, we might get there together.
We are sometimes as important as priests or poets, but until we dedicate ourselves to worthier goals than getting a illegal phone number, we are poets of emptiness.
Somehow all this has been bubbling up inside me. A man is the sum total of his experiences. And it is now that I am interested in shaping the experiences to come. What is the future of what we do? Give me a goal, and I will achieve it. That has been my secret design for most of my life. Perhaps you are the same. We're all goal-oriented, so I hereby present a goal. How can we do something surprising, and memorable with our lives? How can we turn this job, in small but important ways, into a better representation of ourselves?
How do we wish to define our lives? So that when we are sixty, or seventy, or eighty and we're sinking down onto that cool floor of the new international airport, with playoff tickets in our pockets, perhaps we too can know that we led A Happy Life? Do we want to be Remembered?
Recently I was asked in so many words, "What do you stand for?" I was lost for an answer. At 14, I wasn't lost for that answer. At 18,I was blown away that I had no answer. I could only look at the fade of a man , needing my help, just looking at me for the answer I didn't have.
The look on that man's face face is a part of me now.And the feeling I had, and have now, is pushing me forward, writing this Mission Statement.
I propose that, like the world embraced those telephone answering devices, we talk to the our lives.Let's bring soul and character to what is already there. I propose that we recreate everything that we're currently about. Right now we're at the top of our game. Traditionally people do one thing at this point in their success. They try like hell to maintain what they did to get there.
Their personal and intense road to success, their original inspiration (which is at the heart of every success) is now lost in the pursuit to keep the money machine smoothly rolling forward. Delivering crisp green sheets of greater and greater amounts of fortune. But there is a problem with this stage in the success game. In so doing this maintain-success cycle, they forget the original glimmer of passion that got them there.And historically, no one successful ever pauses to think that they might tumble like everyone before them who forgot. The whole success cycle dooms the very thing that causes the success in the first place - it puts shutters on the windows of reality. It makes us all forget that monetary success comes from something very pure. It comes from a desire to do well, to make life better, not just to do well with financial regularity.
It is not easy to hide a winning formula. Take a successful t.v. show. The following season, you see twenty others just like it.But the great ones all do one thing at the time of their greatest success. They change the game. They make it harder for themselves. They raise the bar. They work not just harder, but they work smarter. That is why the great athletes, politicians, musicians, philosophers all got stronger instead of more weary. We must do the same. And for those wondering when I will propose an answer to these many questions, I must ask you simply to hold on. Because it's coming.
Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's just tonight, but I really do think I'm onto something here. And, as I said earlier, if you're reading this, it means that I didn't conquer this statement with my own fears of rejection. If if you knew me, and many of you do, you know that "rejection" and "fear" are not words I say easily. But this is more than a Mission Statement. This is not the equivalent of one of those magnetic "poetry kits," you know the ones you buy at a stationery store, a mess of words so you can assemble funny poems on your refrigerator door. This is from my heart. This is a love letter to a business I truly love.
Hypocrisy is stopping us from being what we always wanted to be.Our Limitations tend to increase more and more as we grow inlife...take this for an example:Athlete Y is a superstar, and is more talented. But to tell this to Client X would be asking him to become Ex-Client X. And so begins the game of flattery, of lip service, of doing everything possible to soothe and stroke. It is part of our lives, and part of our jobs. The game of agenting. The tapdance. Not only will Client X be a tapdance, but there will be a tapdance involved in explaining why I didn't return the call and begin the tapdance earlier.I know it is a tapdance, and so does he.
But as I sit here in the darkness ,the answer to the future is rather obvious. If the tapdancing becomes less constant, less furious, less necessary, what will the result be? The result will be more honesty, more focus,the new day of honesty will create a machine more personalized, more truthful, has a greater chance of greatness next year.Less dancing. More truth. We must crack open the tightly clenched fist of commerce and give a little back for the greater good. Eventually that goodness will be infectious. We will have taken our number oneness and turned it into something greater. And eventually smaller will become bigger, in every way, and especially in our hearts.
Forget the dance.
Focus.
Love the job. Be the job.
Let us be honest with ourselves.
I propose this as the very heart of the Mission Statement that is flying across my screen. I am not a writer but I can't stop from writing this. It is something pure, from the deepest part of me. It has to be right.And if I am wrong, then grab me by the collar and tell me why you disagree. And I will happily talk with you because we are talking about something that matters.
I see a young girl skating in the night,The simple beauty with which she cascades across the smooth cement, the intelligence with which she uses this path that is crowded with shoppers .At night, it is hers. She owns it. I feel the same pride of ownership, owning this world that allows me to type this message to you. And perhaps save the future.It is a great feeling, not just that wretched desire to survive, to outswim the huge wave that may drill me into the sand below the water, but to seize this time. To set the agenda. To say what I feel. I have the distinct feeling that what I have written is "touchy feely." I don't care. I have lost the ability to bullshit.
Most of the time, we are creating nothing. We are shoving digits around. But to address the growing pains of our lives and academics,and to create a new way of looking at what we do ... because these growing pains could easily be dying pains. But we are meant to live it out.Our work actually does have an effect on people. In a cynical world, we make people happy.It is important to tweak the greater concerns of our fellowmates too.Because the ability to forget social causes happens easily, in the night. Suddenly the desire to survive obscures the quest to give back to a community. If we don't exercise the muscle of charity, one day it is dead. It doesn't respond, it's just a fiber in your body that serves no purpose. And the next thing that happens is the lack of depth that comes with financial prosperity. How many rich people have said this in our presence: "I thought I would feel better when I was rich, but I don't." That happens when we don't listen to the loud sound of the quiet voice inside. Life, I believe, is not a country club where we forget the difficulties and anxieties. Life is the duty of confronting all of that within ourselves.You can e-mail the President, you can get sushi in a supermarket in the middle of the desert, you don't even have to read a book anymore, you can buy a tape where it is read out-loud. But where is the simple truth about how to live a quality life? I hope that I have not overstepped my boundaries by writing this to you. This is an attempt to reach out, and say loudly the things that have been festering within. And once you begin to speak these things, it's hard to stop.
I have never been a writer, but I can see how this great lost art will never truly die. Putting words to paper is a sacred thing. It's more than a phone conversation, it is a document. It is something you are putting on paper. The relationship between a phone call and a letter is the difference between a magazine and a phone book. One you leave on a plane, the other you save.
I am too excited to sleep. I want this Mission Statement to last to the light of day. Outside, a passing car plays a snatch of an old Pink Floyd album. Money ...
I am wondering what that exact moment is when we truly, truly love our jobs. Is it during the day, or at the end of the day, or is it years later looking back on all we accomplished? I think perhaps truly loving something is the ability to love it at that moment. It is an elusive ability, something I have never been able to quite accomplish. I must go home, and take my experiences like a squirrel, and consider them, before I can truly enjoy them. I must work on this. The daily journey is everything. Being able to enjoy enjoyment while it is happening. I might erase this part.
Some of you are younger than me, some of you are older than me. Right now I have one foot in each of your worlds. I am thinking about marriage, and the future, but I'm old enough to have a past that I (hopefully) have learned from.
I have now written far too much on the subject of our future, the future of this life. But the beauty of this proposal, I think, is that it is only a slight adjustment, an adjustment in our minds. An adjustment in attitude. An adjustment to point where we can discuss the things that really matter to us.Let us work less hard to acheive things that don't really matter in the long run and work doubly harder to keep all those that really will. believe in these words, and while they may not yet be true for you, they are true for me. And I ask that you read this with that in mind. I am dictating not what I want us to be, but what I wish us to be. There is a difference. You can only get there if I have written this correctly, and if you are inspired. I am reaching out to you, personally. I choose to be passionate again. I choose to reclaim everything that was once exciting about this job. I wonder if this might just be the best idea I've ever had. I hope you understand. In the words of Martin Luther King, whose suit I suggest you all visit before they move it from its display in the Atlanta airport: "A life is not worth living until you have something to die for." (I'VE NEVER BEEN TO THE AIRPORT,BUT CAME TO KNOW ABOUT IT")

A life is not worth living if you are sleepwalking through it. Because that is what feels like death. That is what causes athletes to, out of despair, get drunk and wrap their cars around a pole. Or lash out at someone they love. It is the feeling of sleepwalking. Of others living life around you, keeping their fists tightly wound around whatever dollars they can muster, caring little more than nothing about those around you. We cannot sleepwalk. We cannot just survive, anything goes. We can take control of our lives, we can quit sleepwalking, we can say - right now, these are our lives, it is time to start living it. It is time to not second guess, to move forward, to make mistakes if we have to, but to do it with a greater good in mind.
Let us start a revolution. Let us start a revolution that is not just about basketball shoes, or official licensed merchandise or what ever,let us do something worthwhile,let us prioritise. I am prepared to die for something. I am prepared to live for our cause.