Powered by Genes

The other day I was sharing with a friend how strange I sometimes feel because Atreya now looks so much like his father. I sometimes react to his mannerism simply because they remind me of his father- I am overcome with feelings that come rushing out from the past. It's the power of genes that a son's looks and even mannerism can be so similar to his father's who's not been a part of his life for 12 years!

It is not all in my mind. Last weekend, Aloka insisted on seeing Atreya's baby pictures. I took out the album, and pointing to the tiny baby, said "This is baby Atta". After that, she began pointing to the baby in every picture saying "Baby Atta". Then, on the fifth picture, she points to his father's photo and says "How come baby Atta has grown so big here?"

Point proven. 

Don't Go Looking

Darling, don't go looking for a father in every half-decent man you meet.

He walked out, the loser, his loss
What made you think it was your defeat?
Don't go looking for a father in every half-decent man you meet.

No doubt he was one half of your small world
But having two halves hasn't stopped so many from feeling incomplete
No point looking for a father in every half-decent man you meet.

There are many things we all lack, much taken away from everyone
But you gotta know that only you can make yourself complete
It's no use looking for a father in every half-decent man you meet.

I could tell you fatherhood is overrated, but would you believe?
This mother's love is all that you need...
Son, don't go looking for a father in every half-decent man you meet.

Watermelon Life

It doesn't cease to amaze me that a thin weak creeper like watermelon spends all its energy and resources to develop a big huge fruit to house its seeds. All its energy, all its resources, not used to stand up tall, but diverted to progeny. Nothing else matters to it.

(Picture credits: http://www.123rf.com/photo_14600273_watermelons-on-the-green-watermelon-plantation-in-the-summer.html)

Roller Fuckoaster!

Before anything else, I want to make one statement that everyone not fond of roller coasters should remember always- there is nothing like a gentle roller coaster. If there is any oxymoron in this world, this is it.

I thought I had learned my lesson many years ago when I got in a harmless-looking roller coaster in London just because I wanted to do a "dad thing" with my son (you see, I was newly divorced). The nightmare that followed is indescribable, best captured in a photograph taken during the ride that showed me with teeth clenched and terror written all over my face. I promised myself I will never get into a roller coaster again- the hell with the single parent guilt! But as I learned over a weekend last month, 10 years is a long time to forget even the most painful lessons.

It so happened that I took Nishu, Atta and Aloka to Universal Studios one Saturday in August. We started by watching some street shows and getting body art done for Aloka. We also did a couple of easy rides meant for Aloka. Then Nishu became bolder- she wanted to do the grown-up rides. Atreya and Nishu went for one of the tougher rides and came out quite OK. Nishu wanted more, but everywhere we went, there were long queues and waiting times of up to 60 minutes. By then, we had stopped being choosy, and started going for every ride that had a short waiting time. These were mainly kiddy rides- that's why they weren't full of waiting crowds.

Monster Roller Coaster visible at the back

Right at the start, we had noticed a huge roller coaster. It was a monster. You could hear the shrieks of riders from a mile away as they were flung in all directions at super speed. There was almost no waiting time for this ride because it wasn't everyone's cup of tea. This is the kind of thing I don't even look at because just seeing it gives me vertigo. No wonder even Atreya refused point blank to accompany Nishu to it, and she wasn't bold enough to go alone. Lo and behold, my guilt kicked in.

No, I didn't agree to go with her. What kind of an idiot do you take me for? (The answer to that is "just the worst kind", but you will get to it when you read further.) 

Further down from the monster roller coaster was another smaller one. We had watched it a couple of times. There were hardly any screams- in fact people seemed to be laughing and cooing as they cruised by. We saw none of the upside-down turns that were rampant in the monster and compared to it, this little one looked positively gentle. There was hardly any wait time either. So this guilty aunt decided to do the right thing and took everyone for the gentle roller coaster ride. To confirm that it was indeed easy, I asked the ride attendant if Aloka could do the ride and he said "Sure, it's a very short ride, OK for her".

Atreya, the protective brother, wanted to sit with Aloka, but she was sticking to Nishu, so I got to sit with him instead. Within seconds of starting, I knew something was wrong- the darn thing was going up and up and up... which meant it was about to go down and down and down. Did I mention that I am terrified of heights? I felt myself shutting down- power off. My eyes were shut tightly and went into a self-induced semi-trance. But some senses are not in my control- I heard everything Atreya said during the ride with absolute clarity. It went something like this (and pardon my French, there is no way to write about the F word without writing it dammit!):

Mom look down, look down! Fuck, look how high we are going! Fuck, hold her tight Nishu, just look down mom. Oh fuck, Aloka will fly off, are you holding her tight Nishu? Fuck, this is bad, is it over? Fuck!

When the darn thing finally came to a stop, Aloka started crying. People seated in front of her began consoling her. I was quite useless as a mother at  because all I wanted to do at that time was to cry with her!

OK story over now repeat after me- A gentle roller coaster is an oxymoron. 

It is I Who Must Begin- by Vaclav Havel

I read this poem today and it touched me deeply. It was as if written for me.

For it is I who must begin and persist, without grand speeches and ostentatious gestures. It is I who must listen to the voice and live in harmony with it. There are no excuses. It would not be easier anywhere else or any other time. Courage and honesty- both have to come from me. Whether all is really lost or not depends entirely on whether or not I am lost. 

It is I Who Must Begin

It is I who must begin.

Once I begin, once I try --

here and now,

right where I am,

not excusing myself

by saying things

would be easier elsewhere,

without grand speeches and

ostentatious gestures,

but all the more persistently

-- to live in harmony

with the "voice of Being," as I

understand it within myself

-- as soon as I begin that,

I suddenly discover,

to my surprise, that

I am neither the only one,

nor the first,

nor the most important one

to have set out

upon that road.

Whether all is really lost

or not depends entirely on

whether or not I am lost.

Happy Anymore

Things don't make me happy
Anymore.

Those clothes from M&S that fit me, praise thee Lord!
Do bring on a sense of lightness
But that lightness is gone soon.
The new set of shiny kitchen tools
Chatter for a while about great food I should cook
But then fall silent.
The chrysanthemums from the wet market
Smile and wink at me at first
But then turn away and become indifferent.

These things don't make me happy
Anymore.

I heard the other day of an army recruiter
Who put a value to his family...
"1 Million dollars of investment" he said
"Per child per lifetime!"
"What is the return on your investment?" he asked!
I want to ask this self-assured all-knowing gentleman
How to compute the valuation of my daughter's sweet smile?
Or the profit margin from my son's growing sensibility?
Or the cumulative interest on my mother's unconditional love?

For these are the only things that make me happy
Anymore. 

Can we bring them together?

The other day, someone asked me to look at an e-learning course on aviation in order to estimate the effort for developing similar courses. I had less than an hour of access to the course. As usual, my brain went into a hyper mode, absorbing and analyzing everything I saw.

My first reaction was sheer pleasure. The illustrations of the airport and planes were done fabulously. There not an element out of place. Layouts were varied and polished. Text holders were contextual, derived from the aviation world- some in the shape of a display screen at airports, some others in the form of tickets and so on. Animations were short, sweet and well executed. Just the kind of stuff I love to see. (I wish I could share some screenshots but I don't have the rights to).

Not only me, I thought to myself, this will also be the first impression that any lay person will form upon seeing the course. But I am no lay person in this context, so I started to check what the content was really about. The topics included history of aviation, agencies involved, key functions/parts of airports and the type of staff needed to operate airports- a strange mix indeed. I began to wonder who the audience was. Who would need this information, which seemed too superficial for airport staff and too detailed for general public?

I dug deeper. Why wasn't I getting hooked to the content? I noticed that the contextual text holders occupied only about 50% of the screen area available. The rest of the screen was used to hold absolutely unimportant (though contextual) illustrations and animations, like some passengers standing around inside the airport, a plane taking off at the back, some clouds moving across the skies etc. The limited space inside the text holders meant that all the content was cramped inside them, making it difficult to read. This was especially a problem when the content talked about logos of various aviation agencies. The space was so limited that the logos were quite minuscule and I never really could differentiate one from another. The other text holders like the airplane ticket posed similar problems but had an additional issue of navigation. Every time I clicked a ticket, another one popped out in front of it, but there was no way to go back to view the previous roles.

I went through the pages several times to "get" what I was expected to understand from the content, but each time I only got bits and pieces. There was no connection between the pieces and no attempt was made to connect them even artificially. I had no reason to learn anything specifically because it seemed like an information dump. I became aware of this problem acutely when I found myself struggling to answer the most basic recollection-type quizzes!

I have to mention that the quizzes that tested me on stuff I never really got to learn were done very cutely- an airplane would carry the options to the placed I selected! Misplaced efforts? But who am I to say that? From what I knew, the customer was very happy with the course and wanted more of the same type.

At that moment, I had this sense of helplessness. After years (16-17 years) of dealing with this issue, here it is again, just in another form. On one end of the spectrum are arrogant designers who defend PowerPoint-like (and ineffective) courses by pontificating about the deep instructional value of the work they do, and the insignificance of aesthetics and visual design to their work. On the other end are clueless designers who hide poor instructional material behind flashy layouts and cute animations.

I am left with questions that linger on even today, weeks after I saw this course.

• Is it so hard to bring the best of the two worlds together? 
• Why can't good instructional and visual designers collaborate to create learning material that actually helps people learn? 
• Why do people in the industry continue to struggle with this issue after years of working at it? 
• I know it can be solved- after all I had seen it solved in KP when I was there, but is it sustainable or is it linked to specific people and their skills?
• Will our industry elevate itself out of this rut one day or is it the nature of the beast?