Way back in 1950 NPR (National Public Radio) started a series titled “This I believe”, where NPR listeners share their personal philosophies and core values that guide their daily lives. One of those stories is titled “Life is Wonderfully Ridiculous”. It caught my attention. Here is a person who echoes my state of mind. He said

“It's not easy trusting in the ridiculous. When my friends ask what my career plans are, I sometimes feel like Linus waiting for the Great Pumpkin to appear. How can I tell them I have no plans — that I'm just waiting for the ridiculous to happen?”

If you ask little kids what they want to be when they grow up, you get different answers. Some say nurses, some say pilots, some say brain surgeons, some unwittingly say dads and moms. But fact of the matter is every one wants to become some one great (the definition of “great” depends on the maturity of the person, of course). Every one seems to be determined to be determined, because, I never heard of any one say “gee, I don’t know. I’ll just play it by ear and leave it to destiny”. Of course, ultimately that’s what may happen. In spite of all the best laid plans, we may end up doing something totally unexpected and unthought-of.

Right from my childhood I wanted to be in R&D. I was more than convinced that I am not cut out to be in Management, I should be the last person to be in the people management business. I did pursue my R&D talent for quite some time, rather unsuccessfully. But in 1998 all this fell way side and I ended up on the other side, the side which, until then, was way beyond my skills. Things changed. This was unplanned, this was unthought-of, yet, it happened. That is probably what the person was referring to, when he said “I’m just waiting for the ridiculous to happen”. That was wonderfully ridiculous.

Things happen just like that. Another testimony is this very blog. I never thought I could write. Well, not entirely true. When I was a child I use to think that I am very creative and a great writer. I even wrote a story and sent it for publication. After that I realized that I am not cut out to be a writer. Nope, my story wasn’t rejected. In fact, it was published (it may have some thing to do with the fact that the editor of that magazine has a son working for my dad and is looking to get ahead in the rat race). I realized that I am not a writer after I read the story that was published, the story I was supposed to have written. Other than my name as the writer and couple of character names, I did not see any thing remotely familiar in the story. That’s when it dawned on me. So, I stopped writing. But now, see, I already wrote a page of, well, nothing. It may be psychobabble; but, I am a writer. No one ever may read this; but still, I am a writer. Even if some one reads this, they may not like it; but still, I am a writer. It may just be my morbid desire to write; but still, I am a writer. Thanks to the technological advances, I am a writer (I am pleasantly surprised to learn that one of my musings influenced some one and changed their outlook – just like that).