The Answer is 42

 

Yet another YouTube video on how to beat procrastination later, the algorithm has probably picked up that I never will. All the more reason for it to continue suggesting more such videos. While the algorithm has not taken any responsibility of fixing me, it can continue to engage me. If I am meant to waste time, why not on its content as opposed to a rival's? Fair enough, I suppose.

Not that the video was a bad one. Deftly produced with the right amount of inset clips, slow zoom outs and relatability embedded in the script, it conveys what every well produced video on the topic should - that productivity can be enhanced and procrastination can be subdued by starting small, battling the amygdala (the primitive brain), System 2 dominance (rational thinking) etc etc. It even acknowledges that watching that very video is part of the easily pursued avoidance loop. Very self aware.

The ways I justify procrastination are many including some mentioned in the video. But in my universe, any delayed major project or lack of progress in the larger mission of life itself is most easily put down to the time not being right. The awareness that this excuse is not a valid one has never hindered me from using it. Decades of delay in the execution of grand plans is pinned on the lack of the necessary vibes. Hastily completed work after inordinate delays is celebrated as achievement and escape.

Even more dangerous is my tendency to retroactively frame delay and inaction as some sort of rebellion against the system. Every fictional and real rebel I have known or read about was completely invested in pushing their cause, however impossible, and sitting on their backsides is simply not in their script or their genes. Laziness cannot pass off as rebellion for very long no matter how many ways I try to spin it.

Through the sheer experience of multiple decades of inertia, I can claim professional acquaintance with 'just do it later'. I seem to be no longer burdened by guilt at my perceived lack of progress but at the same time, I do not revel in the easy releases of the avoidance loop either. There are many things that I wish I had already accomplished in life yet there is a certain peace in looking back at what I managed to do in spite of myself.

A particular insight came to me only last year, like an epiphany, while browsing a bookstore with fellow book lovers from Russia and Tajikistan whilst we were recommending personal favourites to each other. Without revealing the title of the book(s), all I will say is that the key plot climax at the end of a long quest in one of my favourite stories is the message "The answer is 42". 

I was in my 20s when I first read this classic, the randomness and irreverence of this disclosure left everyone including the protagonist and me the reader scratching our heads while quietly giggling at the same time. The conclusion remained true to the spirit of the book which specialized in not taking anything too seriously and did so brilliantly.

A couple of decades later in that bookshop in Dehradun, the number 42 did not seem like such a random choice anymore. As it happens, I was by then already into my 41st year approaching the next, pleased as punch despite a generally ordinary existence. I realized that 42 could have been a secret reference to a certain magic age when regret nestles with realization, at peace with what could have been and what has. I certainly felt so in that moment.

It did help that besides being the author of one of my favourite books, the concerned writer had provided me with one of my favourite quotes of all time too. When in some moment of undeniable genius, he had said "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by", I knew I had to look no further for a guiding light.

[https://virtual-inksanity.blogspot.com/2026/04/the-answer-is-42.html]

2025

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It is hard to write anything about a year when you have lost your father. Everything else pales into insignificance. But in keeping with the attitude of that very same father, 2025 was a year where a lot of other thoughts and experiences ought to be recalled.

One such was the parallels between Jim Corbett's village of Choti Haldwani and the Korean tourist destination of Jeju Island. Having visited both within a few weeks of each other, it was soothing to observe rural life continuing as of old only a few hundred feet from tourist frenzy. In the case of Choti Haldwani, there was also the matter of industrial forestry being ordered to a halt almost 200 years ago from today in a realization well before its time.

The series of visits to the Western Ghats in Maharashtra, Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu were a welcome reminder that the Himalayas are not the only claimants to mountain splendour. Remote, lush and dripping with life, the ancient mountains of the south warrant further attention. The southern part of India as a whole offers a alternative way of looking at India and that alone is reason enough to delve into details.

The multiple groups of foreign trainees and the monumental task of introducing them to India within the space of a few weeks was a task that I took immense joy in. As I told them, I know a lot about India but what I don't know is far far far greater. It was fulfilling to see them slowly grasp the complexities and impossibilities that made our country special and to also learn how our interests - reading, culture and food - often overlapped.

Health deteriorations and demises in the senior generation were difficult to accept but had to be. The sudden departure of a similarly aged colleague was even more so. His enthusiasm for nature and the accidental encounters in our neighbourhood forests were a part of many daily lives, including mine, and the crude cruel stop to his journey made everyone look for reasons and fail.

On a larger front, the casual hate, violence and other forms of stupidity that were provoked with the Pahalgam terror murders and then proceeded to infect society at large with cute neighbourhood uncles calling for 'Gaza'ing Pakistan and the forceful injection of politics into cricket was also a personal inflection point. What we become is largely driven by what we find pleasure in. If violence is our common love, then there might be not too much difference between us and them. In that department, all of us need to do better.

In Plain Sight

13th November 2024, Kolkata

At a busy intersection in Kolkata, shorn of any elements of nature, this billboard lorded over the teeming masses. The green forests, the fresh air and the clean water promised could only be visualized but not experienced. To use such imagery for a product which has established health risks for users and contributes significantly to the dirtiness of our urban surroundings doubled and tripled the irony. All the more reason for busybees of the city to pause and reflect. Who are you trying to please by winning your race and are those egging you on doing so with the right intentions?

Discarded

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Every new social platform that becomes the talk of town automatically sparks a curiosity in me. I do give it a whirl only to find out that it was not my type in the first place. But that does not stop me for trying the next talked about thing. It was on a wave of such hype, that Discord first came to me and so I ventured forth. The dark UI overlaid with friendly looking characters seemed like a fun place but only for people who knew where to go adding to its charm and living up to its name as some sort of underground gathering. Unfortunately for me, I was then and continue to be overwhelmed by the infinite number of side-tabs, competing conversations and a fountain of activities that I find myself incompetent to handle. Usually I am able to invoke the 'sour grapes' mentality and let inaccessible things be but in this one instance, I keep hoping against hope that I'll figure out a hack to experience the place as committed Discord-ers do. Unlike all of the others which I had so far discarded, here was a platform that discarded me. Have been unable to make any gains in this regard for quite some time now but hey, 2026 is a new horizon.

Submerge

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Other artforms engage too but not in so discreet a manner. Drama, dance, music, movies, art and even graphic novels have a physical presence external to you which make them identifiable as such but words that you are currently reading are suitably undercover. The world which they have encased you in is completely invisible to everyone else and the mental universe you are inhabiting is yours alone. In some ways, it is a waterbody below whose surface you are enthusiastically deep diving in but up above, there are no tell-tale signs.

Quirk

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The laptop charger which will charge only at the perfect amount of connection, not too tight, not too loose. The air cooler that will tumble over at the slightest touch of a stranger but which I have managed to keep stable to keep me company in peak summer. The induction cooking stove that will show an error message if I set the wattage at 1000 W but works perfectly at 800 W or 1200 W. The primary advantage of a machine is said to be that it works without complaints but even factory set-ups have ways of turning out tiny little flaws that are the difference between frustration and completion of desired tasks. Much like people, these machines too needed a gentle hand and patient enquiry to deliver. Like any good manager, I am proud of myself and my team. Hiring and firing is for cop-outs.

Unknot

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As I was discussing with a schoolfriend also in his late 30s/early 40s, our bodies were getting to the stage of how our old PCs were in the early 2000s. Back in the day, PCs running Windows would start running slower with age taking increasingly longer to start up as to shut down. There was also a certain wait time before the older machine warmed up to reach peak performance and this tendency was becoming strangely true of our bodies too. In the years before, our muscles and joints were motion ready and able to display peak performance from the get-go on cricket fields and bicycle rides. Now in the course of a long morning walk, it takes a good 2-3 km of progress before with a burp, certain systems of the physical realm indicated that they were use-ready. The high intensity of youth had once required us to set aside time to pro-actively unwind. We had now reached a stage carrying so much legacy data that we were required to give ourselves time just to unknot.

Stimulants

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In my opinion, it is a cartel. The world woke up and worked just fine for millennia without needing a caffeine infusion. But somewhere along the way, mass production was not leading to mass consumption. So the pushing began and before long, became self-propelled. In drawing rooms around the world, sombre first conferences of the day are held to find an excuse for a cuppa of choice stimulants. Businesses with a keen eye on the dependencies chose to push it further into a kaleidoscope of flavours for all tastes, minor twists developing major markets. Someone somewhere first said "I need my [chai/coffee] to get started". Whether that person was actually in need of a pick-me-up or was delaying getting to work we will never know but the sentiments were carried forward with enthusiasm.

Eclectic

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Amongst the words that convey their meanings through innate qualities, my favourite is 'Eclectic'. It contains the melding of eccentric and electric indicating both the lack of focus and the chaotic energy. Anything or anyone eclectic in nature make for interesting observation and company. Productivity, efficiency and results may be the end goals of many but raw eclectic uncertainty has a fan base of its own.

The End

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Newspapers around the globe readily proclaim it and editorial pages further the argument. The claim is that because of XYZ leader of ABC country, international multilateralism is NOW dead. Henceforth, it will be individual countries cutting personal deals with each other. The end of the global world order is lamented as if it was something set in stone and rigorously followed. Truth is that alliances between nations and groups of nations have always been of convenience, overlooking D to achieve co-operation in E. International censure, which only meant a tap on the hand for reprimandable behaviour, was invoked selectively and sporadically by the powers that be. As is the course of history, the names of the powers may have changed but their shenanigans remain the same. Internationalism can never really be dead when it wasn't the default in the first place. It has certainly helped in many situations as much as it has stood muted to atrocities in others. There will be times when larger global agreement is sought and can be fulfilled only by multilateralism. Likewise, there will be occasions for pally nations to team up person to person because that is what the situation requires. In an overconnected world, there really cannot be a one size fits all strategy and defusing tools used will be changed around as crisises evolve. Apart from keeping newspaper opinion columns filled, reports of any kind of diplomacy's demise will inevitably be premature.

Challenge

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For all the high-paying jobs in the world's biggest companies be it tech companies or financial behemoths, there is a stampede of the sharpest minds. At least the sharpest minds academically speaking. The dream then is to enter an organized system that is already printing money and join the party. The challenge in that case is how to make the product(s) of the companies unique or at least better than their competitors. How exciting! But how guaranteed! Don't they wonder with that all that brainpower to harness, having succeeded in some of the toughest competitive arenas how it would be to take on a real challenge? The challenge of the environmental crisis, the challenge of ensuring medical reach, the challenge of delivering education to the masses. Oh, but that sounds like the job of politicians, doesn't it? Occasionally a few of them brainiacs do wander into politics with mixed success but it is a wonder why more don't. I assume that they would (deservedly) hold their mental abilities in high regard but then why doesn't the complex multidimensional challenge that is politics fascinate (more of) them? Some would say that their being smart is the reason why most of them don't wade into this arena where popularity contest meets management ability meets mental sharpness. I would say that intellect is of the greatest value in solving the greatest problems and no role squeezes it to the maximum as much as that of a politician.

Siren

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I wonder who it was that first made the diabolical switch for the meaning versus the origins. The sirens were originally seductive creatures calling lonely sailors to an imminent death by wrecking over the rocks. While their intent was nefarious, the songs themselves and the creatures themselves had to have been alluring. Cut to the modern age, when sirens sound anything but attractive. The ambulance's whine, the fire-engine's high pitched croak, the air raid's insistent warning - are all sounds which cannot be ignored but definitely not something that draws the listener towards them. In borrowing words from Greek mythology, this particular one suffered a cruel modification. Even if preparing for doom, why can't the music and/or sounds be kept happy?

Remember

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Remember this cold December morning. In your bones, in your veins. The sun is a no-show and the fog a cold dampness long past its welcome. You will need it on a clear summer day when the leaves are bright green from the sun's fury and the very earth seems toasted brown. But you won't remember. On that day, you will simply wilt under the insane heat walking rapidly towards shelter not recalling that not so long ago, you had actively sought the sun's company.

Monumental

3rd December 2025, Neyyar WLS, Kerala

The task seemed enormous but definitely not devoid of its charms. As we approached the boats to cross over into the wildlife sanctuary boundaries, the bathing elephants and those charmed by them caught our attention. Three elephants of various configurations were in the process of getting a scrubdown while gawking tourists video-ed the entire affair. The dedicated teams pursued the elephantine project of a luxurious bathing with a vigour matched by the tranquil expressions of their subjects. Important discussions on heritage awaited us on the path ahead but the brief glimpse into an almost sacred trans-species connection was a welcome addition.

Twinning and Winning

27th November 2025

The first is the original Indian powerbike. Well thought-through product marketing by Bajaj targeting an attention hungry new India launched its sales into orbit in the early 2000s. Thanks to the Pulsar, motorcycles were not about getting from point A to point B but more about how you felt on the way. That it was not a 1950s design bolted onto a 1970s leaky engine helped. An 18-year old Bajaj Pulsar is still a Bajaj Pulsar.

The second is an orange dream vetted across the deserts of Dakar and its cousins in different continents. The full form of KTM may be beyond the linguistic capabilities of most of its customers but Kronreif & Trunkenpolz Mattighofen sure did know how to make a motorcycle. The growl putter of the KTM Duke's engine divides opinion viciously as does its behaviour in traffic. Nobody likes being overtaken by an orange blur but some do take pleasure in the existence of such manoeuvrability.

Possessing both in a single stable might seem unnecessary but practicality wasn't the first concern of any motorcyclist's life anyway. For that, there will always be the public bus.

Deja-Dhurr

"Dhurr" is a very Bengali sound for exasperation. Not quite a word but packed with all the functions of one. I keep it polished and ready because it is that time of the year again. Another year, another clutch game which will determine if Arsenal are able to maintain their tenuous lead at the top of the table at year-end. Having been exactly here so many times in the past two decades, the worst outcome has been played out so frequently that it has ceased to surprise. Nonetheless, the Arsenal faithful including yours truly will watch with bated breath at 01:45 AM India time as their team, predictably plateauing, take on a surging Aston Villa with a grudge bearing former coach at the helm. As a true Gunner, I will watch with hope well aware that past history must be crushing down on the players much more than us spectators. But for their sake (Saka?) and ours, hoping for a plot twist towards the positive.

Vectorized

23rd October 2022, Living Roots Bridges (Vector)

Simplifications are distortions, plain and simple. Vector images fall squarely in that category of information but their distortions offer a focused clarity. Shades are abandoned for blockiness of colours and disorder soothed into mathematically repeatable curves. The clarity of a photograph may be seeming but a vectorized version lays bare an object's reproducible soul.

40

22nd September 2022, Rajiv Gandhi Stadium, Dehradun

It had already been 9 years since he had retired but the stadiums had not forgotten. In Dehradun too, they turned up to watch old aching bodies turn up and for one in particular. Chants of "Sachin, Sachin" reverbated through the stand, no matter who was actually playing. A roar of approval from the boundaries that he patrolled acknowledged with an ever so polite wave. Middle-aged uncles shouting "Maar, beta, maar" delirious in joy and sense of ownership through all the 40 runs that he scored. Some classic shots, some classic poses. Rosier memories for all in attendance would be hard to come by. That India won exactly by the margin of runs he scored added an additional sheen to the evening.

Batterer

12th October 2010, Arambol, Goa

If there is one sound that I associate with the sea even more than those of waves is that of fluttering. Flags, collars and palm fronds all sputtering their own tunes making a walk along the shore an auditory exercise as well as physical. The relentless gusts of air that the material difference between land and liquid sustains speak more of its wildness better than the clash of water and shore. A trip to the ocean correlated mostly to the sun, sand and salt is often inclusive of much battering by the winds.

Static Crush

18th November 2008, Boston

For reasons not very specific, certain objects acquire an importance beyond what mere frequency of encounter should dictate. So too was my association with this weeping willow tree of Boston. The first few times I saw it weeping over a body of water in the Boston Public Garden was when I myself was new to the landscape. An exploratory urge had sent me spiralling from the anonymity of the suburbs into the heart of what is essentially a town sized city. The Public Garden seemed like a reasonable place to start given that I didn't know too much about the city then. 

Then in the future came the escorting trips for family and friends who were visiting Boston. This wasn't New York or Chicago with landmark buildings to show off. Prudential Centre didn't have any sort of iconic ring to it and while views from Top of the Hub were decent, the only people who referred to Boston as any sort of Hub were Bostonians themselves. So it was that we often ended up strolling the Commons and the Public Garden leading to many an encounter with said tree.

Why that specific tree when even within the Public Garden, there were many of the species? I cannot say. But I made it a point to point it out to all who I was showing around emphasising on its 'weeping willow' name for added effect. How many were impressed by this fact-hoisting I do not know, but given the sheer number of photos I have of it through the seasons, that damn tree sure did leave an impression on me. If it had grown tired of seeing me, it gave no indication and as for me, I would still be looking out for it whenever and if I am back in Boston.