SPEED THRILLS

The stage was all set. Finally, Jimmy was standing on the stage which he always dreamt to reach. His calloused hands were itching to do what his mind knew the best. He was running a silent prayer inside his heart and his eyes had shut down for those moments. He could hear his own breath even as the restless crowd was anticipating a new performance. Jimmy was oblivious of the crowd’s heat. His mind was by now focused at a distant point. The sweat beads had built on his brow as he concentrated hard. Throwing his flowing mane forward and back, Jimmy opened his eyes to the crowd’s frenzy and his fingers let the first of the sound waves go out of his Guitar. The crowd let go of itself as Jimmy let loose his Guitar and his band “Traffic Jam” exploded the scene on the stage. Bon Jovi was set aside as Jimmy opened up with a great satire- You Give Love a Bad Name. Jimmy’s mystical voice, years of practice and the desire to excel was now ruling the sound waves emanating from the big stage. The crowd had been pushed on their feet and ecstasy ruled the arena. At one point, Jimmy captured the crowd’s speed as he let them croon along with him. Jimmy was now their driver for the night and he had set a scorching pace for the evening.

The local FM station had called in “Traffic Jam” for an interview. I was all set for my cross-country adventure as I tuned into the station and powered up my Red Gypsy. The Red Gypsy was all loaded up and ready for the road jam. This was an unique trip as I was shifting my bag and baggage to a new town. The voluminous interiors of the Gypsy were loaded till the front and only the Driver’s seat remained vacant. The FM Station was now speeding up the tempo with Jimmy’s interview and some quality rock numbers.  I hit the highway and was pleasantly surprised to see it less crowded. The news of a Trucker’s nationwide strike came on the Radio and the highway became a F-1 Track for the lesser mortals.

Revving up the 1400 cc, I hit the throttle to its hilt. The fully loaded Gypsy was now in its full momentum and the empty National Highway offered a perfect foil for a speedy drive. The milestones were just flying past and I had now switched over from the fading FM Station to some great Rock songs from the Gypsy’s stereo. Taking a swig from the water bottle, I shifted the hood of my cap from front to back. The metal of the rear of the cap now rested on my fore-head and I adjusted the Aviator’s Delight-The Ray Ban for a clearer look. The Red Gypsy’s speedo-meter was steady at 120 Kmph and the drive appeared to be fun. The Sun was now at its Zenith and the nearing winter’s mild chill had disappeared quietly.

A small town was looming ahead on the highway. The road was as barren as the Nevada Desert highway. I had pressed the gas to its limit. Far on the horizon, I saw a State Transport Bus stopped on the side of the road. Suddenly, a cyclist emerged on the road and stopped his bi-cycle on the right hand side of the road and was chatting with someone inside the bus. The Red Gypsy had an ample of space (almost 3 Car Breadths) to clear the Bus and the cyclist. The power horns of the Red Gypsy were activated and all its 8 front lights including the hunting lights were powered up. The gas was eased and the Red Gypsy was now trying to slow its speed. The cyclist turned his head backward and seems to have acknowledged the approaching machine. The power horns were being utilized at regular intervals and I was now about 50 meters away from the cyclist. The speedometer had come down to a decent 40 kmph and the Red Gypsy was now rolling with its speed and weight generated momentum. 20 meters to cross the stationary bus and the cyclist suddenly pedaled up and turned towards his right.

My heart now sang an emergency and with one quick motion I slammed the brakes, lifted the hand brake to its hilt, turned off the ignition, tossed the key to my co-driver’s seat and plunged the 1^st gear again into motion. The Red Gypsy screeched into its halting and was now dragging. A thud and the front fenders hit the cyclist’s front tyre. He had a surprised look on his face as he flew and landed right on the Red Gypsy’s bonnet. The cycle’s front tyre was crushed under the Red Gypsy as the vehicle now came to a halt. I took my hand out from the window and held on to the cyclist on the bonnet as the vehicle lunged forward whilst stopping. He tried to break free from my grip and attempted to bite my hand even as I held onto him to save him from being run over by the Red Gypsy. As the Red Gypsy stopped, I came out and shook the cyclist who was by now dazed but scratch less. A big crowd gathered and promptly 02 policemen emerged from nowhere. I gave my version of the Speed’s thrill and the bus’s driver came forward to my defence as he had witnessed the entire episode from his side rear view mirror. I volunteered to help the cyclist by paying up for his damaged cycle. I showed the bus driver and the police men my speedy drill inside the Red Gypsy’s Cabin and the ignition key lying on the co-driver’s seat. The burnt out hand brake became my testimonial and soon enough I was back on the road towards my destination.

Speed thrills folks and especially when life is on a song. The adrenaline pumps harder each moment and the needles of the gas and throttle start going in opposite directions. The momentum reaches its zenith even as the highway appears deserted. The thrill of the speed clogs the brain’s thinking ability as milestones zip behind. However, each mission of speed has its waiting pitfalls. Obstacles can emerge from nowhere. They become visible from far but no one can predict as to how they will behave when they inch closer to the speeding life. This is the moment when the thrill of speed needs to be eased out. The throttle has to be eased and the needle of the speed has to be brought down to control the speed. Who knows when the obstacle lands on the bonnet of the speeding vehicle called life and only a man in control of the speed will be able to take his hand out to grab the obstacle and meet its challenge.

Speed thrills but not necessarily kills if the elements of speed are kept under a close watch. Do press the gas and let the needles of the gas and the speed turn towards opposite directions. Life, after all, offers its stages only once in a life span and the thrill of the speed are the greatest of them all. So, let the speed flow, keep the watch on the speed’s highway and be ready to control the speed to clear the obstacles. After all, the “Traffic Jam” is all about slowing down the life’s speed and speeds up the speed of imagination with its pumping up of the arena’s air.

THE BUBBLE

The Control Room of the Submarine was fully lit up. The boat had settled down into its patrol routine and the sweet hum of various machines was like music to the ears. The patrol had begun in utter secrecy and no one other than the Skipper knew the mission and its modalities. On the day of the cast off, the Skipper had come with his briefcase and had kept it in his custody even as the Heads of Departments made their readiness reports to him. An affable guy, the Skipper, had been in his thoughts since the time the boat sailed out of her home port. Soon, the crew and the boat had settled down into the regular patrol routine and waited for some clue to the mission. Since nothing was coming forward from the Skipper, the crew also kept waiting and moved with the routine.

The boat was operating with utmost precision and had dived deep into the confines of the sea. A tropical storm had built up overhead and underneath the deep layers of temperatures, the crew was in a chilled out environment. Suddenly, the Sonar Watch keeper (or the ears of the dived Submarine) reported a group of contacts. In a jiffy, the Skipper appeared into the Control Room and everyone got to their Action Stations. Finally, everyone thought, the action time had arrived. Scratching their 2 weeks old stubbles, all Officers and men took their designated positions. The Electrical Officer (LO) powered up his Fire Control System (FCS) to check that his torpedoes were ready to merge with the sea and detonate the enemy ships. It was going to be LOs 25^th Torpedo Firing and he was fortunate to be reaching the coveted milestone.

The Sonar was feeding the FCS with automatic plots and as a pro- active approach; LO was also feeding manual inputs to his system’s versatile computer channels. This approach was considered a bit unconventional by the Skipper but that was how the LO had approached all his attacks. Soon enough, the various Officers were calculating the enemy’s coordinates to make a perfect underwater attack. The Skipper ordered the boat to be planed to the Periscope Depth (PD). The behemoth 3000 tonnes+ Submarine’s massive motor fired up and turned the propeller blades as per the telegraph orders. She was all loaded and ready for action. Soon, the bubble shifted towards the aft side of the gauge and the planes man pushed his rudder to bring the Submarine up. The breaking temperature layers pushed the boat and the gravity lost its battle with the momentum. The super machine was now climbing to meet its targets.

It was at this juncture that the FCS started reflecting a rapid change of the bearings of the targets. There were multiple targets and each one was reflecting a rapid change of bearing. LOs manual feed input time was also reducing at a rapid pace and he was constantly stretching the computing power of the computer. A rapid change of bearing indicated that the targets were either at close quarters or right overhead. The boat by now had built its momentum and was approaching the PD at a rapid speed. LO gave the first warning for close quarter situation to the Skipper. The pressures were high and the drops of sweat had broken out on the brows of the Control Room crew. The boat was inching fast and the LO had flagged a warning. The dream attack can be reduced to ashes if a target is not analyzed with perfection. The boat was now meters away from the sea surface and bearings on FCS were spinning in circles. The periscope was raised in synchronization with the boat’s movement and broke the surface. The experienced Skipper took a quick sweep of the surface picture and shouted an Urgent Dive. He shut the Periscope and lowered it with great speed. The urgent dive procedure had by now activated and the emptied out tanks of the Submarine were now gobbling tonnes and tonnes of sea water to gain enough buoyancy for gaining depths. The machine responded to the Skipper’s commands and plunged again into the sea’s dark fathoms. The enemy ships were sited at a precarious distance by the Skipper. He came down to the FCS and the LO showed him the plot. The attack had to be done and the bubble was now shifted forward. The boat was soon brought into its firing depth by the deft Skipper and the torpedo was itching to go out its tube to meet the enemy’s wake. Soon enough, the fire control parameters were aligned and the torpedo lost contact with its parent tube to make its journey for sinking the target. The Sonar reported the torpedo’s movement even as the ships on top made a hasty retreat to save their steel from getting shredded. The mission had been completed and the bubble was again even as the Submarine settled down for its next action.

In almost all situations in our personal and professional lives, the bubble keeps on getting shifted. It hardly remains steady at the centre of the life’s gauge. Humans are either climbing or descending with the change in the life’s bubble’s position. The bearing of the environment around us keeps on changing rapidly as the time of action draws nearer. The action time always hits the humans with its ferocity and its challenge has to be met with precision. Sweat beads have a tendency to build up and it is a natural process. The breaking sweat beads should not fog the vision. The periodic wiping keeps the sweat at bay and also helps to cool down the internal temperatures. This should rather help the clarity to build up to tackle the situation.

The bubble would always remain an integral part of the human lives. Its natural tendency is to shift from front to back as the “Submarine called Life” goes through its motions. All that we need is to let the action be met with action and then steer the bubble to take part in the unfolding action. It is important to play the game fairly and squarely- the bubble does get eased into its neutral mode as the action time stabilizes into a routine.

THE PRISM

Alexander, the Great, the king of Macedonia, lay on his bed writhing in pain and high fever. He was delirious and suffered from body aches which were continuously increasing. He was all of 32 years and a ruler who was at his peak. He ruled over a dominion that stretched from the Balkans to the Himalayas and from Egypt to the Caspian Sea. His empire was vast and he had achieved its geographical expanse by working hard and tirelessly with his 50,000 strong Army. He had been a born leader and orchestrated an unprecedented military campaign as his Army captured swathes of land. He was powerful and intelligent. Aristotle was his tutor and he inherited a strong kingdom and an experienced Army from his father King Philip, who was assassinated in 336 BC. A young and charismatic General Alexander stepped into his father’s shoes and moved his campaigns far and wide to reach the ends of the World. He would only stop where he met the Seas.

In his lifetime, young Alexander suppressed many a revolts. He galloped and surged till he reached the Kingdom of King Porus in the Gangetic planes. It was at this juncture that his well oiled battle machine faltered and revolted against his wishes to conquer any further. Alexander’s General Coenus pleaded with him to let go the soldiers to see their families back home. Alexander, though young, but was wise. He understood the pulse of his battle fatigued soldiers and turned south marching along the River Indus. He started retracing his steps back to his own lands. The retreating Armies lose their battle hunger and the tired minds let go of themselves. Even in his retreat, Alexander experimented by commissioning a fleet to explore the Persian Gulf shore under his Admiral Nearchus, while he led the rest back to Persia through the more difficult southern route along the Gedrosian Desert and Makran. Alexander reached Susa in 324 BC, but not before losing many men to the harsh desert.  

It was in Babylon that a mysterious illness hit a robust 32 year old Alexander. He developed a fever and lost the power of his speech. The last days of his life were full of pain and agony. His vision, probably, was failing and his internal chemistry was going from bad to worse with each passing moment. Bleary eyed, he was struggling and floating between his own thoughts. The prism of his mind was getting blotted with darkness. He could barely wave his hand as his soldiers walked by him to have a final glimpse of the maverick that Alexander; the Great was when he led them across lands of this planet. He had led them with his winning streak but now he just lay on a bed and awaiting his last breath. The soldiers passed by him and Alexander was left alone with his excruciating pain and agony. Finally, the moment arrived on 10/11^th June 323 BC and Alexander’s prism became dark.

The World is composed of a plethora of colors. A riot of color runs all across the planet in almost every aspect of Mother Nature. Humans love colors and hues. Happiness is symbolized with colors and the visual senses epitomize a Prism as colors make their impact on human minds. An occasion is turned colorful and the prism effect takes charge of the venue as lights glow. Similarly, the human mind is also like a great prism. It has the unique capability to scatter or integrate the procedure of thoughts. After all, it is the process of thoughts that leads to final actions and behavior patterns. A cluttered mind keeps on hitting dark prism patterns and the actions clearly reveal the colorless patterns. On the other hand a robust and thinking mind scatters its thinking pattern evolving positive patterns.

In today’s ever evolving and chaotic World, the characteristics of Prisms are easily visible in every field that humans operate. Each organization reflects its tell-tale patterns as humans steering the proceedings reflect the thoughts evolving out of their thinking Prisms. It can be clearly correlated that the patterns of light and human minds have many things in common. Some of the vital and similar traits include focus, clarity, integration, coherence, reflection, refraction and resolution. Human minds at every level of an organisation need to possess all the traits to achieve a synchronized performance. When the aim is set, it must be shown clearly to the performing team members. Once the aim is clearly visible and its values understood, then, the Prisms inside human minds can synchronize to achieve the focused approach. Organizations hit rough patches not because they falter but because its constituent members lose the characteristics of their own Prisms.

A clear Prism reflects a single incoming beam of light into an outgoing stream of colors. Similarly, a clear mind takes in an idea and diversifies it into a grand strategy. Alexander, the Great, was a top shot CEO much before many humans can even imagine holding such a position. He traversed more than 10,000 miles, fought 70 battles without losing his ground and had an Empire stretching from Egypt to India. His Prism had an extensive clarity. He had a good tutor in Aristotle and he picked up the best from him. He developed the rare art of generating a flexible grand strategy which he amply reflected as he conquered varied cultures and kept his armies challenged for almost 11 years. His Prism took him to greater heights but there came a point when his Prism became dark.  His conquests led him to a grand belief that he was invincible. He kept his Armies on a constant move but failed to recognize that they needed to slow down and connect with their own families to remain charged. After all, Alexander was a young and robust 30 year old top honcho who was raring to go on endlessly. He had not defined his limits and maybe no one could guide him. He also, maybe, he did not know where to take the well deserved pit stops and rejuvenate energy to make the Prism clean and reflecting. He probably crossed the thin dividing line which can lead to failures. It was one such moment when his Army revolted and his General Coenus had to exhort Alexander to clean his prism. He did the needful as his General exhorted, but somewhere he had fostered enemies who eventually led to his untimely end. Who knows what Alexander, the Great, would have achieved had he been able to lead his Armies out of Macedonia again after a well deserved rest.

 

Times and tides never remain the same and there is no harm in clearing the Prisms at regular intervals. A clear Prism would always diversify the incoming single ray into a maze of colors. An introspection of the circumstances can enable humans to understand the condition of their own Prisms. Keep the Prisms clean, stable and shining to spread the maze of colors. After all, happiness follows success and success can always be achieved by minds which are positively radiant. Life is like a Prism and what one sees depends on how the glass is turned.