Thursday, June 09, 2011
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Tedium
Tedium, Sisyphean tedium
Still, in the middle of the Pacific
Hot afternoon sun and pin-drop silence
Slow...dead slow...
Calm...dead calm...
Not a ripple in the skies
Not a gust in the waters
Breath sucks molten lead
Thoughts pushing shut synapses
Steady beat of a sluggish heart
Noisy gush of thickened blood
An unending rhythm that doesn't change
A drummer in a silly silly trance
The flickerless glow of fluorescent lights
The muffled hum of the AC plant
Tick tap taps of keys on keyboards
Mechanical murmur of official kinds
Printers puking mundane manuscripts
Shredders editing them to rest
Yesterday, Today Tomorrow
Tomorrow, Today Yesterday
Today, all over again
Tedium, Sisyphean tedium
Still, in the middle of the Pacific
Hot afternoon sun and pin-drop silence
Slow...dead slow...
Calm...dead calm...
Not a ripple in the skies
Not a gust in the waters
Breath sucks molten lead
Thoughts pushing shut synapses
Steady beat of a sluggish heart
Noisy gush of thickened blood
An unending rhythm that doesn't change
A drummer in a silly silly trance
The flickerless glow of fluorescent lights
The muffled hum of the AC plant
Tick tap taps of keys on keyboards
Mechanical murmur of official kinds
Printers puking mundane manuscripts
Shredders editing them to rest
Yesterday, Today Tomorrow
Tomorrow, Today Yesterday
Today, all over again
Tedium, Sisyphean tedium
दिल्ली किसकी है?
दिल्ली किसकी है?
किसीकी नहीं...
इसे अपना बनाना पड़ता है --
कुछ ज़ोर-ज़बरदस्ती से,
कुछ चपेट खाते हुए |
दिल्ली उसकी है जिसने नदी के बहाव को
मोड़कर तैरना सीखा;
जिसने मुस्कुराते हुए
टूटे शीशे पे चलना सीखा;
जिस ने सीखा की मेरी पहचान
एक शहर, एक पिन कोड से नहीं है;
मेरी पहचान मेरी सोच, मेरी ताकत से है|
मेरे लिए पूरी दुनिया दिल्ली है|
किसीकी नहीं...
इसे अपना बनाना पड़ता है --
कुछ ज़ोर-ज़बरदस्ती से,
कुछ चपेट खाते हुए |
दिल्ली उसकी है जिसने नदी के बहाव को
मोड़कर तैरना सीखा;
जिसने मुस्कुराते हुए
टूटे शीशे पे चलना सीखा;
जिस ने सीखा की मेरी पहचान
एक शहर, एक पिन कोड से नहीं है;
मेरी पहचान मेरी सोच, मेरी ताकत से है|
मेरे लिए पूरी दुनिया दिल्ली है|
Friday, May 20, 2011
The Fastest Gun in the West (Or East)
We go through life like drunk, raving cowboys with guns blazing at our hips. With our wit, intellect, and ego we shoot down any thought, gesture, comment that moves. In the process we don’t gain anything other than a perverse sense of superiority. Many bonds die and, if we have a tiny conscience chugging in our hearts, we wake up the next day with a bad moral hangover. Restraint is one of the toughest tricks to master.
All That Needs To Be Said
The more I listen,
the less I have to say.
All that needs to be said,
has been said already.
But the brain tricks me into saying
things that have already been said:
The vacuum around me fills up
with words that gush out like a geyser
and lead to another blank sheet
over and over again
in a silly unending loop.
Damn you, brain!
All that needs to be said
has been said already.
the less I have to say.
All that needs to be said,
has been said already.
But the brain tricks me into saying
things that have already been said:
The vacuum around me fills up
with words that gush out like a geyser
and lead to another blank sheet
over and over again
in a silly unending loop.
Damn you, brain!
All that needs to be said
has been said already.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Wisdom
Zen Master to his pupil: Son, answer this question: What is wisdom?
Pupil: Master, I'm not sure...I don't know.
Zen Master: Well done my son, that neatly sums it up.
Pupil: Master, I'm not sure...I don't know.
Zen Master: Well done my son, that neatly sums it up.
Sunday, April 03, 2011
9 Success Lessons from Cricket World Cup 2011
1. Success is a Slow Process
It is not a lottery ticket, it is not a windfall gain, it is not bungee jumping, it is not a sprint. It is a trek, it is a marathon. More often than not, the road to success is bland and boring. To try and shape the process otherwise could lead to premature burnout. It happens very frequently with the ambitious and the intelligent. Plodding cannot be overemphasized even for the ambitious and intelligent. Success is its own reward. But if you want to spice up the journey, break it down into sub-projects and sub-goals, and enjoy the achievement of each milestone.
In some respects, yesterday’s match was somewhat slow and unexciting. Only 6 wickets fell for Sri Lanka and only 4 for India. Jayawardene went on and on. The two crucial partnerships that built India’s innings (Gambhir + Kohli; Kohli + Dhoni) didn’t have many fireworks; just slow, steady run-making. And that is what, in the end, piled up the runs that won us the match.
2. Consistency is the Key
It is better to have consistent above-average successes rather than one big success at the beginning or one big one at the end. Consistent performance throughout the lifetime of the project is more important than starting with a bang or ending with a slog. The pressure is evenly distributed and your reaching your goal is more assured.
The two big partnerships displayed amazing consistency of scoring. They made up for the lack of big boundaries with several, well-earned singles, doubles and triples. This consistent run-making is what helped not put pressure on the batsmen in the later stages, when they could’ve been more error-prone. It was important that the team did not repeat the domino effect of previous matches.
3. Have a Well-balanced Team
It is better to have several above-average team members rather than one or two high-performers. Depending too much on high performers is risky. They could leave you anytime. And there may not be anyone to take their place. It is better to have several above-average performers in your team and train them to become high-performers. Your risk is spread out and the increased average performance will add to total performance in time.
Even though we lost the openers in the early overs, thanks to our batting depth, we were able to recover from that setback. Gambhir and Kohli reclaimed the innings brilliantly. But also, we cannot underestimate the fantastic, textbook fielding that our team showed yesterday. They must have saved us at least 50 crucial runs. This is the kind of balance that every team must have.
4. Follow Your Training
Textbooks and training lessons are there because they teach us how to do things. It may sound counter-intuitive, but the best leaders are the ones who are able to follow their training when under tremendous pressure. Many a men have buckled under pressure by compromising their education and succumbing to their emotions. Being impulsive in a crunch situation is only going to make you error-prone. The leader must tune out all noises in his/her head and just follow his/her training.
Everyone knows that Dhoni is a big hitter. Where were the big hits yesterday? They were missing because under pressure, Dhoni did the right thing –– build the innings. He played regular, careful cricket, piling up runs, strengthening India’s scorecard. He relied on his training and strategy sessions to do what he has learned to do.
5. Silence the Expectations
As a leader, you must only think of the goal and not about the expectations of your peers and bosses. Expectations are one goal multiplied by several voices. And this multitude of voices may cloud your judgement. It is best to set your own standards and work toward the goal.
This principle was displayed by the captain brilliantly. Despite the fortunes of the nation pressing down on his shoulders, Dhoni’s judgement was crystal clear. He didn’t let the expectations of a billion make him act impulsively or become nervous.
6. Nerves that Twang and Balls that Clang
Courage is a great quality to have in a leader. Courage allows the leader to take daring risks. Courage allows a person to silence the noise of expectations, take decisions that really matter, stop unforced errors, command respect of the team and peers. The catch is that not everyone is equally courageous. Courage is an in-born quality that is built on the foundation of strong principles and unyielding will power. You may not be very courageous, but everyone knows what courage looks like. So, if you think you lack in this department, the next best thing is to ‘act’ courageous and deal with your jitters in private. At least it would have the desired impact on your team.
Fortune favours the brave. It favoured M.S. Dhoni yesterday, when he promoted himself up in the order to take on the responsibility of building the score. It takes balls to face the challenge head on, especially under the kind of pressure that the Indian public can exert on its cricketers. Dhoni was cool as cucumber, almost cocking a snook at us all! But he did it for us. Perhaps, he has more steel in him than all of us put together.
7. Failure is a Clarion Call
Failure at any stage is a call to action. It tells you that it's time to tighten your belt and roll up your sleeves. It's a heads-up to an opportunity to undo the mistakes you've been committing. Failures are perhaps more common than successes and the path to success is a series of course corrections.
The dramatic collapse of the batting order in our match against South Africa indicated to Dhoni that players are unable to take pressure and stick to the wicket. The course correction showed result yesterday when the top order, despite the early departures of Sachin and Sehwag, plodded diligently to ensure that the middle order does not face the pressure.
8. Do It for the Special Person in Your Life
We all have a special person in our life. It could be our parents, our spouse, our best friend, or children. It could even be a colleague or a senior you look up to. If your own ambitions and self-actualization needs fall short, then think of that special person in your life. Think how you will add value to that person’s life. Think how you will make her/him happy. Imagine how your effort/contribution connects you with her/him more strongly and at a deeper level. There can be no greater reward than the love, affection and respect of your loved ones and peers.
The Indian team did it for the very special person –– Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. There couldn’t have been a bigger motivation.
9. Destiny Plays a Role
I don’t know how to prove it through this world cup, but destiny does play a role –– sometimes minor, but always there. A few missed catches, a few opportune wickets, a fortunate match fixture, a timely advice, an untimely injury –– the chance element, the probability factor is always lurking in the shadows. And the only way to keep her on your side is to train well and act courageous.
Friday, March 25, 2011
The Moment the World Froze
Somehow, by prior arrangement or divine intervention, the bat connected the ball and the ball repelled. Sahil Joglekar's heart stopped. For reasons beyond his control, his eyes were tightly shut.
In the subsequent days, and even years, people would ask him whether it was fear or desperation or both that made him shut his eyes in that defining moment. He never had a clear answer. Perhaps he didn’t want to ask himself. Perhaps there was no need to ask that question.
***
World over, Sahil was toasted as the best batsman ever. His records were astounding, better than any other cricketer in the history of the game. His averages made statisticians dizzy and fans drool. His stroke play was said to be stuff that made pundits revise their textbooks.
His scoring consistency was like the beating of a healthy heart. He has had his highs and lows, but he was the best, the crowning glory of the Indian team. He had raised the game to the level of an art form, his rivals applauded him and felt no envy.
But Sahil never felt complete. He had done it all but one.
He had entered international cricket at a very young age. He broke record after record and matured in the game at jet speed. But one achievement kept eluding him—The Cricket World Cup.
In his fifteen years of international cricket, he had played in three world cups. He was a newcomer, and then he was a senior, but he was always the promised one. The vagaries of a team sport ensured that his reputation and stroke play couldn’t see the Indian team through.
But Sahil knew that everyone had tried his best. His reasoning was different for the world cup continuing to elude him. He wasn’t superstitious, but he sure was god-fearing. And he was certain that god had kept the world cup away from him because he didn’t want him to have too much success too soon: What would be left to strive for? He was a hard-working, practical chap. He believed that success needs maturity to carry it; otherwise you stumble and fall.
It had been too long…and this was the moment.
***
The ‘tock’ of the leather on the willow sent massive shock waves through Sahil’s body … and through the opposition … the stadium audience … and all the TV viewers and radio listeners all over the world who were watching and listening to that last ball of the last over with bated breaths.
Three runs to win—last ball of the 50th over. At that exact moment, Sahil left his body.
***
Floating above the pitch, he could see himself—frozen—with eyes shut, the ball in mid-air, not yet across the pitch, bat swung back. He thought he looked silly with his eyes shut: “Why am I doing that?” As he rose further above, he could see the bowler frozen in the follow through, with a devilish grimace on his face. Fielders—some gasping with open mouths, some staring hard at the ball, as if their looks could halt its advance.
Sahil could see his teammates in the pavilion. Skipper had an expression that was somewhere between ecstasy and shock. Some junior team members had covered their eyes, but he could see that they were peeking through the gaps between their fingers. The coach was calm, as usual, but with a grim look on his face. The entire stadium, Indians as well as others, were either jumping or beginning to. And, like the fateful ball, they were suspended in mid-air.
Strangely, in the horizon, he could see his wife, kids, mother and other kins watching him on TV. His wife had turned her face away, his mother was praying with folded palms, his brother was a replica of the stadium crowd.
He rose further…
He could see hundreds and thousands of Indians all over the world frozen, motionless, their eyes on that ball. Had they forgotten their beloved Sahil Joglekar? No, but it was their defining moment too! A moment they could brag, or alternatively, despair about, for the rest of their lives. A moment that an entire generation would identify itself with. A moment thousands will take inspiration from. A moment forever frozen in time like a glass palace in the middle of a windless desert.
A moment when Sahil Joglekar had to shut his eyes tight to not let the cacophonic light of the expectations of millions blind him.
***
[Unfreeze]
He knew now why. And he swung.
He knew he had connected well. It was as if it took him ages before he could gather enough courage to open his eyes. He just saw the ball distancing itself from him in the direction of mid-off. At that stage, no one could gauge where it would land. He neither had the time nor the patience to do that.
India needed three runs—just three runs. And Sahil ran like a maniac!
He didn’t care anymore—he just had to do this—everything else could wait. Did he get caught, hit a six, a four?—no thought crossed his mind. All he could do with his breath right now was this—run like the wind!
Some Indians may not be good at driving, but almost all of them are very good at judging the trajectory of a flying cricket ball. Even before the ball crossed the boundary, [unfreeze crowd] the polarization was complete, clear and overwhelming. Even before the ball hit the stands, the Indians were shouting with joy and hugging each other. On the other side, the rivals were frozen, again, with shock and despair on their faces—“IMPOSSIBLE!”
Sahil kept running; so did his mate on the other side.
It was close to two runs when they noticed the changed patterns of the crowd. Sahil didn’t trust his senses and kept running, but his mate stopped and looked at the umpire.
It was a SIX!
He jumped with joy and ran towards Sahil, hugging and lifting him up. Sahil was furious: “What the hell are you doing! Why are you not completing the run?” It was then that he let the scene seep into his senses, and it dawned upon him.
India had won the World Cup!
Providence had taken a long time, but Sahil knew that now, after years of slogging, literally as well as figuratively, he deserved it and could carry it on his broad shoulders. He stood in the middle of the ground with his bat and helmet raised. Another frozen moment—he absorbed it all—the cheers and the tears, the silent thunder of the applause. He became, for that moment, one with them. That was his reward, the uplift, the spiritual, ‘in the zone’ feel—he absorbed it all.
The moment had made its definition and he felt complete.
***
It is said that destiny is a lady who favors the brave and the impulsive. That moment, as he swung hard with all his might, Sahil won over lady luck. He now knew why he had shut his eyes. But there was no need to ask that question anymore because they had won.
But if you ask him in private, his answer would be simple—blind faith.
In the subsequent days, and even years, people would ask him whether it was fear or desperation or both that made him shut his eyes in that defining moment. He never had a clear answer. Perhaps he didn’t want to ask himself. Perhaps there was no need to ask that question.
***
World over, Sahil was toasted as the best batsman ever. His records were astounding, better than any other cricketer in the history of the game. His averages made statisticians dizzy and fans drool. His stroke play was said to be stuff that made pundits revise their textbooks.
His scoring consistency was like the beating of a healthy heart. He has had his highs and lows, but he was the best, the crowning glory of the Indian team. He had raised the game to the level of an art form, his rivals applauded him and felt no envy.
But Sahil never felt complete. He had done it all but one.
He had entered international cricket at a very young age. He broke record after record and matured in the game at jet speed. But one achievement kept eluding him—The Cricket World Cup.
In his fifteen years of international cricket, he had played in three world cups. He was a newcomer, and then he was a senior, but he was always the promised one. The vagaries of a team sport ensured that his reputation and stroke play couldn’t see the Indian team through.
But Sahil knew that everyone had tried his best. His reasoning was different for the world cup continuing to elude him. He wasn’t superstitious, but he sure was god-fearing. And he was certain that god had kept the world cup away from him because he didn’t want him to have too much success too soon: What would be left to strive for? He was a hard-working, practical chap. He believed that success needs maturity to carry it; otherwise you stumble and fall.
It had been too long…and this was the moment.
***
The ‘tock’ of the leather on the willow sent massive shock waves through Sahil’s body … and through the opposition … the stadium audience … and all the TV viewers and radio listeners all over the world who were watching and listening to that last ball of the last over with bated breaths.
Three runs to win—last ball of the 50th over. At that exact moment, Sahil left his body.
***
Floating above the pitch, he could see himself—frozen—with eyes shut, the ball in mid-air, not yet across the pitch, bat swung back. He thought he looked silly with his eyes shut: “Why am I doing that?” As he rose further above, he could see the bowler frozen in the follow through, with a devilish grimace on his face. Fielders—some gasping with open mouths, some staring hard at the ball, as if their looks could halt its advance.
Sahil could see his teammates in the pavilion. Skipper had an expression that was somewhere between ecstasy and shock. Some junior team members had covered their eyes, but he could see that they were peeking through the gaps between their fingers. The coach was calm, as usual, but with a grim look on his face. The entire stadium, Indians as well as others, were either jumping or beginning to. And, like the fateful ball, they were suspended in mid-air.
Strangely, in the horizon, he could see his wife, kids, mother and other kins watching him on TV. His wife had turned her face away, his mother was praying with folded palms, his brother was a replica of the stadium crowd.
He rose further…
He could see hundreds and thousands of Indians all over the world frozen, motionless, their eyes on that ball. Had they forgotten their beloved Sahil Joglekar? No, but it was their defining moment too! A moment they could brag, or alternatively, despair about, for the rest of their lives. A moment that an entire generation would identify itself with. A moment thousands will take inspiration from. A moment forever frozen in time like a glass palace in the middle of a windless desert.
A moment when Sahil Joglekar had to shut his eyes tight to not let the cacophonic light of the expectations of millions blind him.
***
[Unfreeze]
He knew now why. And he swung.
He knew he had connected well. It was as if it took him ages before he could gather enough courage to open his eyes. He just saw the ball distancing itself from him in the direction of mid-off. At that stage, no one could gauge where it would land. He neither had the time nor the patience to do that.
India needed three runs—just three runs. And Sahil ran like a maniac!
He didn’t care anymore—he just had to do this—everything else could wait. Did he get caught, hit a six, a four?—no thought crossed his mind. All he could do with his breath right now was this—run like the wind!
Some Indians may not be good at driving, but almost all of them are very good at judging the trajectory of a flying cricket ball. Even before the ball crossed the boundary, [unfreeze crowd] the polarization was complete, clear and overwhelming. Even before the ball hit the stands, the Indians were shouting with joy and hugging each other. On the other side, the rivals were frozen, again, with shock and despair on their faces—“IMPOSSIBLE!”
Sahil kept running; so did his mate on the other side.
It was close to two runs when they noticed the changed patterns of the crowd. Sahil didn’t trust his senses and kept running, but his mate stopped and looked at the umpire.
It was a SIX!
He jumped with joy and ran towards Sahil, hugging and lifting him up. Sahil was furious: “What the hell are you doing! Why are you not completing the run?” It was then that he let the scene seep into his senses, and it dawned upon him.
India had won the World Cup!
Providence had taken a long time, but Sahil knew that now, after years of slogging, literally as well as figuratively, he deserved it and could carry it on his broad shoulders. He stood in the middle of the ground with his bat and helmet raised. Another frozen moment—he absorbed it all—the cheers and the tears, the silent thunder of the applause. He became, for that moment, one with them. That was his reward, the uplift, the spiritual, ‘in the zone’ feel—he absorbed it all.
The moment had made its definition and he felt complete.
***
It is said that destiny is a lady who favors the brave and the impulsive. That moment, as he swung hard with all his might, Sahil won over lady luck. He now knew why he had shut his eyes. But there was no need to ask that question anymore because they had won.
But if you ask him in private, his answer would be simple—blind faith.
Friday, February 04, 2011
Who Am I?
Who am I?
Who am I to question?
Who am I to question the labels put on me?
Who am I to say who I am and who I'm not?
Who am I but shifting dunes of desert sands.
Who am I but stale porridge of fading memories.
Who am I but an uncertain chimera of a broken imagination.
Who am I but a tiny speck of cosmic dust.
Who am I to say what is and what isn't?
Who am I to say I'm right?
Who am I to say I'm wrong?
Who am I?
I'm not sure.
I guess...I don't know.
Who am I to question?
Who am I to question the labels put on me?
Who am I to say who I am and who I'm not?
Who am I but shifting dunes of desert sands.
Who am I but stale porridge of fading memories.
Who am I but an uncertain chimera of a broken imagination.
Who am I but a tiny speck of cosmic dust.
Who am I to say what is and what isn't?
Who am I to say I'm right?
Who am I to say I'm wrong?
Who am I?
I'm not sure.
I guess...I don't know.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The Cynic
Cynic, n, Someone who takes a pessimistic view of human motives and actions.
It's easy to be a cynic when you're young. You believe that your motives and actions are resulting in something good for mankind. Or, at least, your motives and actions are so uncoloured by complexities of physical and psychological survival that you feel relatively purer. As you grow older, you get mired in cross-persuasions and cross-actions that mar honest efforts in real world. Unwillingly and unwittingly you may end up doing things that you are not proud of. There may be a point in your life that you are so disgusted by your own actions that you want your conscience to shut the fuck up. Eventually, to a large extent, it does. There are murmurs of dissent, a few "yikes's" and "uh oh's", but nothing that will make you sweat. Then comes the time when you enter fully into the denial mode. It is important to be in denial. Else, you will end up sabotaging your own work, your own survival. You HAVE to believe that you add value to your family members' lives, to the corporation you work for, your team members' work, to the society in general, and the environment at large.
People will tolerate a cynic only so much. Not only because he's a pessimist, also because, sooner or later, he begins questioning the intents and productivity of everyone around him, and that too without actually doing anything himself. If you continue to remain a cynic while being gainfully employed, it won't be long before you're expelled from the 'circle of trust'. If you were born a cynic, then it behoves you to make the transition from a cynic to 'management' as soon as possible. Your income, expenditure, and conjugal life might depend on it. It is important to plan, even if you do not have the resources to execute it. It is important to talk of quality, even if you cannot afford it. It is important to appear employee-friendly, even if you can’t do anything to retain them. You see, as a society, an individual is weak, but as an 'individual', an individual is strong. And if, by god's grace, an individual-individual decides to execute that plan (which actually happens once in a while), cynics, non-cynics, we all benefit.
But let's not digress from the natural course of a cynic. You're surrounded by outstretched arms, grotesque heads chanting guttural grunts in strange harmony, awkwardly marching toward you, and it just takes one strategic bite—sooner or later, every cynic is taken into the fold of the other side. And it is crucial that you remain in denial till your dying day. God help you if you realise your 'real' self a day before you die. You will die a horribly restless death and roam the earth till eternity as a cynic ghost, taking a pessimistic view of the motives and actions of humans and spirits alike.
It's easy to be a cynic when you're young. You believe that your motives and actions are resulting in something good for mankind. Or, at least, your motives and actions are so uncoloured by complexities of physical and psychological survival that you feel relatively purer. As you grow older, you get mired in cross-persuasions and cross-actions that mar honest efforts in real world. Unwillingly and unwittingly you may end up doing things that you are not proud of. There may be a point in your life that you are so disgusted by your own actions that you want your conscience to shut the fuck up. Eventually, to a large extent, it does. There are murmurs of dissent, a few "yikes's" and "uh oh's", but nothing that will make you sweat. Then comes the time when you enter fully into the denial mode. It is important to be in denial. Else, you will end up sabotaging your own work, your own survival. You HAVE to believe that you add value to your family members' lives, to the corporation you work for, your team members' work, to the society in general, and the environment at large.
People will tolerate a cynic only so much. Not only because he's a pessimist, also because, sooner or later, he begins questioning the intents and productivity of everyone around him, and that too without actually doing anything himself. If you continue to remain a cynic while being gainfully employed, it won't be long before you're expelled from the 'circle of trust'. If you were born a cynic, then it behoves you to make the transition from a cynic to 'management' as soon as possible. Your income, expenditure, and conjugal life might depend on it. It is important to plan, even if you do not have the resources to execute it. It is important to talk of quality, even if you cannot afford it. It is important to appear employee-friendly, even if you can’t do anything to retain them. You see, as a society, an individual is weak, but as an 'individual', an individual is strong. And if, by god's grace, an individual-individual decides to execute that plan (which actually happens once in a while), cynics, non-cynics, we all benefit.
But let's not digress from the natural course of a cynic. You're surrounded by outstretched arms, grotesque heads chanting guttural grunts in strange harmony, awkwardly marching toward you, and it just takes one strategic bite—sooner or later, every cynic is taken into the fold of the other side. And it is crucial that you remain in denial till your dying day. God help you if you realise your 'real' self a day before you die. You will die a horribly restless death and roam the earth till eternity as a cynic ghost, taking a pessimistic view of the motives and actions of humans and spirits alike.
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