First Fights

As a child I was extremely peace loving. I still am I guess. I don’t remember having got into fist fights in school. I think having engaged in fisticuffs with didi at home, I was sure of my own ability. And then if you can engage in verbal duels why expend energy? The other less important reason might have been that having been a peace broker through school, you somehow don’t engage in fights. Rather you observe till the time blood is about to be drawn. So using my well nourished frame I remember having picked up quite a few Stallone in the making from the playground and deposit them in the basketball court and start giving them gyan about the merits of a good behaviour. In fact, the Mumbai bouncers at times just don’t get it right.

In college the only physical fight I remember was with Dr.Sen when we battled it out with brooms in the Budhfront corridor while the Mallu, Marathi and the Tam contingent in the wing bet on the eventuality. I lost hands down due to years of non practice and because his broom had a longer reach.

But verbal fights have been quite a few if not numerous. And First fights are always the most exciting ones. Few days back I had one with Kid. And that’s what led me to write this post on Friendship day.

So kid and I had our first fight over a pun. Now if it was over the credentials of bangali meetha vs. banarsi meetha, it would have been acceptable. But it was over a pun rather than a paan.

My first domestic fight was over 99% Fat free milk. Apparently you can’t make great tea with 99% fat free milk. But who cares as long as I have been convinced by some marketer that fat free milk is good for me? And whatever others might say I must do what’s good for society at large. But seems society wants to grow more bulky. So be it.

My first fight in school with my best friend was over who would sit in the window seat in the bus. The first fight with another was over Diego Maradona. The first fight in college was over the way a club should function. The first fight in office was over the direction of the next campaign.

First fights remain in your memory and while you would not want to have any fights at all, these will always happen and will linger on for longer than you would like them to. They serve as reminders for self control and as long as the number of first fights in your life remain at a manageable level, you realize that the world is not such a bad place to live in.

But then there are some first fights which go on longer than you ever thought they would. They never end and you lose a friend at the end of the day. That, trust me, is never worth it.

To Fight for Autonomy

As I painfully opened my left eyelid and then my right one today morning, I had no idea that The Times of India was carrying a shocking piece of news titled, "For first time, govt to choose IIM directors." You can read the story here.

More than 12 hours later I am still in a state of shock. The institutions I have received my education from have all been autonomous bodies, something I always believed was the main reason behind their brilliance. Autonomy to me was always the greatest tribute to democracy.

For some reason, the concept of autonomy has always intrigued me. In my version of utopia, everyone does what is expected of them, is given the necessary power, authority and ownership to achieve the same. Everyone is ethical and the world moves on like a well oiled machine. To be very frank, I can not be held responsible for what I have become. I was in a school where the Vice Principal gave the House Council absolute freedom to fulfill our responsibilities. He trusted us and we never broke his trust. Don Bosco in those years was very close to the utopia that my yound mind was conjuring up at that moment. And perhaps for this reason, after I left school, three of my most memorable fights have been over autonomy.

It all began with a magazine which wanted no one to dictate it's voice. Later down south, it was for a Club which was the voice of Institution to the outside world and wanted to remain so. And finally, it was for an Academic Council that wanted the authorities to believe in its capabilities. But those are now dusty pages in my book of life.

Autonomy with responsibility. The search for my utopia continues.