Krishna Rao

Category: Blurts

  • Just today

    This time of year we look back – and forward. We make new plans. Give ourselves the permission to renew broken promises. It feels good because the world has slowed down. You can breathe easy.

    And this is by no means bad. It’s great to have a vision, to imagine what you, your achievements, and life will look like this time next year.

    But once the vision is made, it’s time to shift your attention. From far out to right now. Not this month. Not this week. Right now.

    Here, you are taking actions. Here, you are facing your limitations. Here, you are experiencing defeat, triumphs, and, most of the time, just your plain old boring, precious life.

    The day’s not over (probably). Neither is the year. Breathe in. It’s time to work. Today.

  • My irrational belief

    Irrational beliefs can be used for terrible things – to start religious wars, vote dictators to power, or sell billions of the “edible food like substance” we call McDonald’s burgers.

    But they can also be used to do wonderful things. 

    Take my irrational belief. I believe that I will write a book one day, in the near future, soon.

    How do I know this? 
    I don’t. 
    Can I give you a logical argument why this is likely to happen?
    I can’t.

    For a few years now logic has held me back. How do you do a thing you have never done before?

    And then there are babies. Babies don’t operate as per adult logic. They take flights of beliefs – an irrational faith that their legs can hold them up when they can’t. And it is the very act of failure that builds the muscles that transforms them – from crawling monsters to erect maniacs.  

    And so, I have decided to be a maniac in this micro area of my life.

    It gives me a reason to sit in front of the laptop trying to flesh out a character’s motivation or the next scene when I really have no rational reason to.

    My irrational belief is that if I sit front of the laptop and stare at the blank screen for long enough, my mind will conjure up a semblance of a passable solution – and, on the rare occasion, dazzle me with brilliance.

    So, that’s my irrational belief for the next year. 

    What’s yours?

  • As simple as bread

    The aroma of freshly baked bread – or a delicate bite of one – is heaven on Earth.

    Bread can be made with just four ingredients – flour, water, a little yeast, and a pinch of salt. That’s it.

    I was reminded of this last night when I visited Marine Drive in South Mumbai. It’s a graceful arc of a road abutting the Arabian Sea. It was the night before New Year’s and the embankment was chockfull of people. Thousands sat with their backs to the road and faces to the sea.

    “I have never understood the point of it,” a friend noted. I nodded. I hate crowds and though I love the sea, I am not a big fan of Marine Drive. We walked for 10 minutes. A space opened up on the embankment as a large group got up and left. Our little group filled the space happily.

    We turned our backs to the road and our faces to the sea.

    A steady cool sea breeze fanned us. The traffic sounds faded. Our eyes took in the sea, breathing in the salty air. To our right, Marine Drive disappeared into the horizon. Despite the crowd, it felt like the whole wide sea had opened up just for me.

    I recognised the feeling. Just four ingredients. The Arabian Sea, a glittering road, our little group of close friends, and a pinch of salt.

    That’s all it takes.

    Heaven.

  • Don’t be your worst client

    Choose a project and think about what the perfect outcome would be.

    For example, if I am writing a novel, the perfect outcome would be a story with complex characters, delicious conflict, engaging dialogues, a plot with twists and turns, and an ending that ties it all up.

    Perfectionism wanted all this done yesterday. That’s why it is like the world’s worst client.

    Healthy Striving, on the other hand, is like the world’s best client – or at least a very good client. It’s about acknowledging the goal but also that there is a process to get there. It’s about knowing that the first draft is just that – the first draft. Instead of saying, “this doesn’t work,” it’s about figuring out why it doesn’t work and then brainstorming possible solutions.

    So, may be don’t be your own worst enemy – I mean, client.

  • Bombay from above

    Bombay from above

    I often wonder what Bombay would be like if the Britishers had left the seven (actually fourteen) islands alone. Sure, it wouldn’t be a metropolis. Instead, it would be a tropical paradise with marshes, beaches, rolling hills, fishing villages, and quaint little caves. 

    Of course, I wouldn’t have grown up here. It was Bombay’s industries and offices that drew millions of people to the city — among them my grandparents and parents.

    Over the years, my love for Bombay has waned. Like a child who grows up to notice the frailties of his parents he never noticed in childhood, I can see the cracks in this city. 

    But yesterday, I sat in a plane that hovered over the city for nearly half an hour. Round and round it went above the skies of South Bombay. Cyclone Biparjoy had briefly driven away the pollution that hovers over the city. And we were treated to clear views under the (hot) afternoon sun. 

    And my heart dropped a few thousand feet to meet the city below. Like an annoying child, I kept taking photos and showing them to my parents sitting beside me — “That’s Wankhede!” “There’s JNPT and Elephanta!” “Isn’t that the new trans harbour link!?” “That must be the Bandra Worli Sea Link!” 

    That’s the thing about love, isn’t it? When you love someone – or something – no matter how flawed they are, they’ll invoke this child-like delight in you. You see the flaws, and yet feel an almost primal love for the person – or, in this case, a city. 

  • A castle of sentences

    Lately, when I get stuck for words, I imagine I am standing in front of a closed door.

    All I need to do to open the door is write one sentence. The sentence may be short or long or awkward or angry or wise.

    It doesn’t matter.

    What matters is that it’s a sentence.

    As I step through the door, inside, I find something beautiful,

    Or scary, or soothing,

    Or boring, or nothing.

    It doesn’t matter.

    What matters is that I note what I find and look for the next door.

    I write another sentence,

    And that door opens.

    And then the next

    And then the next

    Until…

    I open the door that takes me outside.

    (Or, I’ve hit my deadline!)

    I step back and see,

    A castle of sentences.

  • Waiting for your Sierpiński triangle

    Waiting for your Sierpiński triangle

    Here’s a math lesson for creators! First, I’ll talk about the math and then the lesson for creators.

    The math

    I follow this excellent channel called Science is Fun on Instagram. The creator recently posted a video demonstrating a mathematical phenomenon called the Sierpiński triangle. (The original video is by Math Letters.)

    https://www.instagram.com/reel/CtM2j_7oh5h/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

    Start by placing three dots that form the vertices of an equilateral triangle. Make a dot randomly anywhere within the triangle. Now, place more dots by following two rules.

    1. You choose any one of the original three dots.
    2. Move towards the dot you’ve just placed, and at the midway point, drop another dot.

    Again, choose any one of the original three dots and move towards the latest dot you’ve placed and at the midway point drop a new dot.

    According to the video, if you do this thousands of times, a pattern will start to emerge called – you guessed it – the Sierpiński triangle.

    And now the lesson for creators

    Being a creator is like making a Sierpiński triangle. Every day, we show up and place a dot following a couple of rules. The individual dots look meaningless. There is no picture, nothing to appreciate. But place the dots enough number of times, and a pattern emerges. Not just a pattern but one of the most beautiful fractal patterns you’ll see.

    So, go ahead, place a dot. We’re waiting for your Sierpiński triangle.

  • Lean into the burn

    Lean into the burn

    Step-ups, Lat Pull Downs, Bent Over Rows, Cable Cross.

    There was a time when these phrases meant nothing to me. Sadly, these days I know. I not only know them, I live through them a few times a week.

    And it’s not enough to do them once. Ah, the cruel masters of the gym have deemed that hapless mortals repeat these actions multiple times. They try to make it sound cool by calling them reps. Multiple reps make up a set. And you need to do multiple sets. (!)

    Well, if you’re human, a few reps in, you’ll feel your muscles burn. The temptation, then, is to count down. Ten reps left. Nine reps left. Eight reps left… You get the idea.

    But this is a mistake.

    Because now my mind is focused only on finishing the set – avoiding the pain. And avoiding pain is like adding another 10 kilos on the machine. You suffer unnecessarily.

    Instead, I lean into the burn – focusing only on the rep I’m doing and nothing more. So, yes, I am experiencing pain – but less pain than if I were to try and countdown.

    I am discovering that the training helps when I swap the gym for my desk. When I’m staring at the blank screen instead of 25 kilos on the machine.

    I don’t rush to avoid the pain. Instead, I lean into the burn.

  • Intention and Expectation

    Every action has an associated intention and expectation.

    Sometimes intention and expectation are articulated by our minds. We know why we are taking an action and what we expect from it. But often, they are not. This may not always be a problem. However, if you find yourself struggling to act, it might be because your intention or expectation is focused on the result and not the process.

    A well-formed intention helps bring greater meaning to action. It might even make it more enjoyable. Expectation, on the other hand, is a speculation. It is best tamped down.  

  • The most important lesson from Steve Jobs we all miss

    The most important lesson from Steve Jobs we all miss

    Steve Jobs’s obsession with excellence has a somewhat mythical status. Many of us believe we can never be as good as Jobs simply because we can never reach his levels of excellence. And yet, there is a counterintuitive lesson from Steve Jobs’s life that productivity and business gurus often miss.

    In 2007, Steve Jobs announced the iPhone in front of a packed audience. Since then, once every year, Jobs – and after him, Tim Cook – would get up on stage and announce that Apple had created the “best iPhone ever”. 

    This is untrue. Jobs and the rest of the Apple team knew that the phone on stage wasn’t the “best iPhone ever”. A better version existed in Apple’s research labs. Their engineers knew the current version’s flaws and possible improvements that could be made to it. 

    From this, creators can draw an important lesson: We don’t need to wait to create the perfect story, song, or recipe before sharing it with the rest of the world. Sure there are things you could improve. But your creation with all its flaws – known and unknown – is the “best ever.”

    We can take this logic a step further. You don’t have to wait for the perfect mood, tools, skills, or ideas to create stuff. Whatever skills, tools, or ideas you have right now are the “best ever” at this moment. 

    (Image Courtsey: Blake Patterson)