Memorabilia

To be persistant is to doggedly work on an idea until you are able to show others its value. To not stop working on it because of a lack on motivation, encouragement or validation from others. It is the most valuable thing when creating something new. If you don’t believe in your idea enough to go at it night and day, then it’s going to be almost impossible to bring others to your side. 

Once you have supporters, your idea takes on a life of its own. You have spokespeople, well-wishers. Cheerleaders crawl out of the woodwork. This can be a mixed blessing, but you’ll be ok as long as you focus on your original vision and work on spreading your idea to more and more people. 

One cannot plan the big things. We are certainly capable of big dreams, but as humans, are sometimes constrained to taking small steps toward them. The journey may seem tedious, we get impatient and antsy. But there is immense value in the small steps; we are able to learn and absorb so much more about the world by being light-footed. When we are fully focused on the big things, the things out of reach, we fail to see and appreciate the things before our eyes. And, ironically, the things we longed for don’t seem that great as we get closer to them. It is the simple small steps in the right direction that are the most satisfying. 

I walked a blind woman to We Be Sushi two nights ago. I had just gotten off BART at the 24th & Mission station when I saw her slowly making her way up the stairs. She got to the top and hesitated. There was no indication of where she should place her next step. I asked her calmly where she wanted to go, and if she needed help getting there. She said yes, asking me first if it was out of my way. Naturally I said no, that it would be my pleasure to walk her. And it was.

That tiny act gave me immense satisfaction. I felt a sense of purpose, the 2-block deviation to Valencia instead of my usual route to South Van Ness was so different from the countless other times I had walked those streets. Normally I would avoid looking at things, be engrossed in my own thoughts and problems. That night I paid attention to every single detail. Because this woman was using me as her eyes.

I also saw something else. The triviality of most of my problems and concerns that bog me down on a daily basis. An annoying coworker, a minor health issue, the government. This woman had been deprived of a vital sense, an essential tool with which to navigate the world. And yet she was so calm and serene, enjoying the little things — a glass of wine, a bowl of seaweed salad, salmon sashimi.

Thank you dear lady for helping me see things differently.

Value. Mostly seen as the monetary worth of a product or service.Value should be measured by what said product or service can offer you in your particular context, not by an economists’ perception of the generic worth of a thing to a mass of people. A thing which may bring tremendous value to one person could be of no consequence to another, and could, in some cases even put the other at a disadvantage.

I believe in products and services where there is inherent value in the trade of goods or the transfer of knowledge to both parties.

Sadly, we see a lot of companies producing things that are very valuable to few and useless to many. There is a certain element of greed and selfishness that is centered around being a part of this exclusive “club” of the haves, and there is a strange respect awarded to those who are in this club – much like the reverence shown to a rich and ruthless king by his disenfranchised subjects. If this disproportionate distribution of value can bring new opportunities, then some of it will certainly be re-distributed. But not at a sustainable pace, and not in the true spirit of community. It will be driven by more greed spurned by grab-and-go mentality that has become a disease of the modern world.

My father sent me two beautiful photographs today. One of my grandmother as a child, sitting on her father’s lap. The other of my great-grandfather with two luminaries from India — the poet Rabindranth Tagore, and India’s second President Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan. I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time — a sense of belonging and pride. A sense of where I came from, what my  family looked like generations before me, what they were doing in those two moments in time captured on film.

My connection to India and my family has changed a lot over the last ten years. It went from acute homesickness the first few years to bittersweet nostalgia as I got more comfortable with my life here in San Francisco. These days it is mostly a brief moment of longing, and I am immediately inevitably distracted by work, television or twitter. I need reminders like those two photographs to feel that sense of belonging and remind me of who I am and where I came from.

Thank you dad, mama, ammamma and thatha for giving me something to be a part of.