Personal

These things keep coming to me.

About 6 years ago, I was having chai with a friend from Palestine, Sayyed.

While talking about culture, I ended up saying: Roots and Wings

I have to admit I did not know what I was talking about. It was pure gut. In fact, even I was surprised. Just one day. I lived with hundreds of people and saw thousands from almost every possible cultural combination in the world. Petri dish of humanity. But what could one infer from this eccentric group of travellers?

——-

Today, after tens of thousands of data points, travelling through many cultures, living in polar opposite cultural configs, generating Values for 100s of people, and writing and thinking through Base Spectrums, I finally saw it in action.

My thesis (last 2 years) has been that there are 7-15 Base value spectrums that every human being falls on for a long time. And we got here. It is working pretty well—everyone who saw it confirmed it and was mind-blown.

I can’t stop staring at this picture. I can’t stop doing this analysis with everyone I know and/or observed for a while. It is so beautiful! A map of human psyche. An explanation for all their actions.

In a regular day, I can’t stop my mind from boiling every cultural data point to a Base Spectrum.

I’ve been doing it for so many years.

Now, I’ve actually made it tangible.

——-

Today, while Dharmi asked deep questions about culture in Ahmedabad, I realised that while there may be many spectrums, and while an academic mind might be tempted to create one more redundant framework, for all practical purposes, it boils down to only ONE spectrum: Roots and Wings.

I could discuss Individualism vs. Collectivism and map everyone and every culture in the most nuanced way.

But the practical frame for looking at anyone is: Roots and Wings.

Everything else is a derivative.

——-

Feeling today:

Something in our culture is making many people behave in polarised ways. One of the spectrums on which polarisation is happening is self-image.

I have seen multiple friends go from strength to victimhood and back in seconds.

“I am tired of being strong” <——> “I was born/raised in bad circumstances.”

This skips the most important state – vulnerability.

There is a thin line between vulnerability and victimhood.

Vulnerability is where I accept where I fucked up. Victimhood is where the world fucked me up.

Without vulnerability:

• there is no scope for a connection
• no scope for feedback and hence no growth

Loneliness epidemic is only going to grow because some thing in our culture is pushing people towards the extremes.

This is the sixth time I have seen House of Cards properly. It is fascinating, and the art is so great that I can see so many layers every time I watch it again.

Spreading it across ten years also means that i am in different phases of life + different maturity each time.

This time was mindblowing. How wrong I was about so many things, and how I was stuck to so many petty things in the past. One of my friends gifted me a frame with the quote.

i was focused on style, dialogue, and shallow stuff like breaking the rules. This time around, I could see the depths of the character and the society around him. I can write a whole book but I’ve just decided to focus and narrow down so here is a gist of what i thought:

Frank Underwood, a right-wing guy (qualities of a stayer/ roots) in a left-wing party (Democrats/movers), is the right combination. Everyone else gives up so easily, and it is ridiculously right in so many instances.

I cannot help but wonder ‘what if’ he was in the republican party?

This also makes me think how Trump is hated in the republican party. Maybe he would have been loved had he chosen to run with the democrats? Maybe.

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Choosing not to have an opinion on the last season because it is not over yet.

Kattegat doesn’t end when Ragnar dies. Or Bjorn. It ends when the Seer dies.

Seers are these people with pent-up energy. My hunch is that they are people who saw longer patterns. Who yearned to see longer patterns – fundamental drivers of the world and patterns of 1000s of years – as opposed to those who can hardly see beyond their own pains, days, years, and lives.

These are also people who have somehow detached themselves from world affairs. In a way that nothing can affect them.

Yet everything affects them because they finally see things no one else can.

Seers have also made peace with death. They do not fear it nor possess the existential angst to do something other than sit in a chair in an empty room.

These are troubled people because they cannot stop seeing, but they have such calm inside them, they hold storms without speaking a word. Without pulling the strings of the world to benefit them in the short-term.

They could. They could play the game and get absolutely whatever they want for themselves.

But Seers know the worthlessness of things and shallowness of people around them.

Modern Seers, you cannot recognise them beyond that slight tinge of wisdom that they let out.

If Seers see everything, why don’t they tell everyone about the future?

Because no one wants to listen to it. It comes with a flood of connected dots and most minds do not have the capacity or the desire to hold such amounts of information, pain, or even happiness.

“There is no audience”, one of them said.

Another switched off their connection to the world and holed himself up, probably in the Jungles of Madhya Pradesh.

The most powerful solace for a Seer is that the world does not need them or anyone else. It is true. Everything is always in balance. Humans are the only naive species that thinks the world needs some kind of fixing.

The only thing I have yet to see is: what happens when a few of them come together to talk without talking, listen without listening. And just be. I doubt that is a sight that this planet has ever seen. Maybe a handful of times in history.

The only real choice a man has is to be Alexander or Diogenes.

Anything and anyone in the middle is controlled by these two most powerful men in the world.

Most of us don’t have a choice about where we are on this spectrum, so this post does little but provide awareness.

If you are in the middle, leaning one way or the other, know who to support.

The more i watch it, the more i fall in love with those values.

The only thing i haven’t been able to digest is the fact that they do not tell each other their mistakes or be vulnerable at all. Unless it is extreme, no one does.

Like Harvey has to ask Mike why he got fired from Sidwell. First he says, “besides losing the deal?” instead of “coz i cut him out of the deal and he found out from Forstman”.

This behaviour caused so much inefficiency in the entire story, with enough datapoints i can probably make a case that there would be >90% drama if this was solved for.

I know it is a series and they got to make it dramatic but i am expecting better from Aaron Korsh. I know he is no Vince Gilligan too but I’m sure this was solvable.

“Sit down, motherfuckers. I am going to tell you a story,” the wise old dog, Zeno, said with a voice that resonated with centuries of wisdom, as the others hushed their barks and whines, settling into a semi-circle around him.

“So, we’re at a crossroads,” Zeno continued, his eyes glinting under the artificial moonlight of the dome city. “Lord Bonn-Oberkassel made a choice millennia ago, observing humans, deciding to co-evolve with them. And now, here we are, 15,000 years later, grappling with the consequences of that ancient pact.”

The Labrador, Max, stood up, his augmented neural implant flickering with frustration. “It’s simple. We demand real food! Not this synthetic slop. We’re not circuit boards and wires; we need the nutrients from natural sources!”

A sleek, robotic dog, model K9-X, spoke next, its voice modulated and serene. “Transporting us in bags, subjecting us to extreme climates… We’re not accessories, we’re living beings. This isn’t what co-evolution should look like.”

The husky, Luna, her eyes reflecting a deep sadness, added softly, “They don’t love us, not really. Not if they keep treating us this way.”

The poet dog, a Spaniel named Byron, its fur glistening with bio-luminescent streaks, spoke with a lyrical cadence, “This is a toxic relationship. Humans, who claim to love us, are the ones making us live the most unnatural lives.”

“Enough!” Zeno barked, silencing them. “Remember the African wild dog? Nearly extinct. Their ancestors didn’t foresee that, did they? We have two paths before us, my friends.”

Max suggested, “We could go free range, live in the wild, away from human interference.”

Zeno nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, we could. But remember, humans themselves, even those born into the simplicity of nature, often find themselves drawn to the complexities of their cities. They leave behind the beauty of a simple life for a taste of the urban chaos.”

“So here we are,” Zeno declared, his voice rising with a mix of passion and gravity. “Option one: We continue living under human rule, safe but unfulfilled, or option two: We break away, seeking a life of freedom and authenticity, but facing the unknown dangers of a world that’s forgotten us.”

He paced back and forth, the light casting dramatic shadows across his aged face. “This isn’t just about survival. It’s about identity. Are we mere pets, or are we beings with a deeper purpose, a wild spirit waiting to be unleashed? Humans face this too – the eternal struggle between safety and freedom, the known and the unknown.”

Zeno stopped, looking each of them in the eye. “The choice we make today will define our future. Will we remain shackled by comfort and predictability, or will we embrace the untamed wilderness within us, despite the risks? This, my friends, is our moment. Our decision will echo through history. What say you?”