The online Apple Store is finally launching in India in a week. I need to be fast and block all my credit cards. I have heard many stories of how Apple makes the buying experience so simple that most buys are instinctive. And with current times of lockdown, my mind is full of abrupt instincts.
On a serious note, am really looking forward to the availability of trade-in, AppleCare+ and Apple support. Of course, I am sure the cost won't be too low for any of that. A cursory look at the available payment options makes you realize that Apple is finally taking the Indian market seriously. I wish that Apple rolls out Apple Pay that's customized for India soon.
One of my senior colleagues delivered a timely reminder of one truth -- we don't take any good or bad decision. Because no decision is good or bad until we get to the result that decision leads to. And given the fact that no one sensible can predict the future, you can only judge a decision in retrospect. So don't get paralyzed. Just take the decision.
I felt very close to the rain today. I don't like to get drenched in a downpour. Or to get damp in a drizzle. As a child, I used to sit at the edge of the veranda and watch the rain play its games. I did that again today after a long, long time.
The clouds gave way to a slight drizzle and eventually burst into an angry downpour. I slumped into the swing chair in the veranda and grinned as the wind lead the stream of raindrops as part of their lovely waltz. I instinctively stretched out my leg to the rain in the hope that nature's playfulness on show rubbed onto me.
It did; I felt calm, devoid of the stress that I had become so habitual to recently. I experienced a general sense of clarity within, but I wasn't thinking about anything specific. A numbness of mind that moves you meaningfully? I wish I could better word this paradox.
My recent lifestyle of the bustling metropolis has made me ignorant. When it rained, I hid behind glass with the raindrops furiously colliding against it. But then they dejectedly glided down. Not today. I let them touch me, heal me today.
When I began the little side project about ten weeks back, I hadn't set any specific expectations from it. Or from myself. I had an itch, an idea for sharing my interest in everything about writing with other folks who share my passion. I wanted to explore the newsletter as a medium to reach out to other people. It was only natural to bring them together.
I had no idea at that time that more than 2 months down, I would still be pumped to word each issue with care every week.
At the risk of getting cheesy about a random number, the 10th issue of Slanting Nib & A Keyboard newsletter needed a special mention. I paused before publishing the issue in haste in the last week. I hadn't got enough time to work on it. I wasn't happy with what I reviewed as I about to schedule it. So I skipped sharing any issue in the last week. I took the time again and reworded the whole issue. And it is out today.
It features some insightful essays that attempt to decipher and explain the past, present and the future of the complex obscurity that is language. I enjoyed reading each one of them; they made me appreciate the intricacies of human communication. It made me wonder that maybe the languages evolved because we human beings are an intelligent species. However, possibly we evolved into an intelligent species because we had the backing of complex languages. Maybe both.
Anyway, do give it a read online; this one is a special one for me. If what you read interests you, please subscribe. If you are already subscribed and have been enjoying the issues, I will appreciate if you forward them to your friends. And any which way, I would love to hear from you.
I am planning to rework the structure of the newsletter a bit without losing on the core idea. I will share more details as they crystallize in my mind. If you think any aspect is just not working, do let me know. It would help me make some easy decisions.
The living language is like a cowpath: it is the creation of the cows themselves, who, having created it, follow it or depart from it according to their whims or their needs. From daily use, the path undergoes change. A cow is under no obligation to stay – E. B. White
I never attested to the belief that language originated abruptly; or that the complex formation of a group of characters was planted into existence. It had to have evolved gradually, had to have become simpler, yet complicated at the same time as it got used broadly. As Ralph Waldo Emerson had aptly put it, “language is a city, to the building of which every human being brought a stone”. This is true not just for English, but for every other language in use today.
And yet, the exact origins of language as a notion are yet unknown. This issue features some insightful essays that attempt to decipher and explain the past, present and the future of this complex obscurity.
As to the origin of the term ‘language’, all we have are theories about the emergence and development of language in human societies. There are of course attempts from linguists to explain how humans planned and worked this fascinating system out. Though Richard Nordquist from ThoughtCo. presents the theories from each of the viewpoints, the exact proofs, unlike the origins of writing, are yet to be found.
Today, opinion on the matter of language origins is still deeply divided. On the one hand, there are those who feel that language is so complex, and so deeply ingrained in the human condition, that it must have evolved slowly over immense periods of time. Indeed, some believe that its roots go all the way back to Homo habilis, a tiny-brained hominid that lived in Africa not far short of two million years ago. On the other, there are those like [Robert] Berwick and [Noam] Chomsky who believe that humans acquired language quite recently, in an abrupt event. Nobody is in the middle on this one, except to the extent that different extinct hominid species are seen as the inaugurators of language’s slow evolutionary trajectory.
As fascinating as the history of the language is, the concept itself is no less bewildering. There is no designated body controlling any aspect of the numerous languages that are spoken today. The rules keep changing, the meanings keep evolving. Did you know that “unfathom” was only recently added to the Oxford English Dictionary, and it means exactly what “fathom” does? It’s unfathomable how we humans communicate with one another, and yet unfathom the innate complexities of this self-regulating system.
Language is a system. Sounds, words and grammar do not exist in isolation: each of these three levels of language constitutes a system in itself. And, extraordinarily, these systems change as systems. If one change threatens disruption, another change compensates, so that the new system, though different from the old, is still an efficient, expressive and useful whole.
Begin with sounds. Every language has a characteristic inventory of contrasting sounds, called phonemes. Beet and bit have different vowels; these are two phonemes in English. Italian has only one, which is why Italians tend to make homophones of sheet and shit.
As English became the widely accepted official language of the nations across the world, the inefficiencies of this “global” language came to the fore. The more it adapted and relaxed the rules of the usage and the semantics, it risked losing the chance to become native for any community. “Just as fish presumably don’t know they’re wet, many English speakers don’t know that the way their language works is just one of endless ways it could have come out”. That’s how this wonderful essay at The Atlantic begins as it contrasts English’s efficiency, or the lack thereof, against a few native languages.
Languages are strikingly different in the level of detail they require a speaker to provide in order to put a sentence together. In English, for example, here’s a simple sentence that comes to my mind for rather specific reasons related to having small children: “The father said ‘Come here!’” This statement specifies that there is a father, that he conducted the action of speaking in the past, and that he indicated the child should approach him at the location “here.” What else would a language need to do? Well, for a German speaker, more. In “Der Vater sagte ‘Komm her!’”, although it just seems like a variation on the English sentence, more is happening.
The Origins and Evolution of Language | Michael Corballis | TEDxAuckland
I recently read a wonderful short story “Summer Night” from Joanna published as part of Craft Magazine and, right away, I wanted to read a lot more from her. This one is such a brilliantly narrated mystery. You know right from the beginning that something is off with the characters and the environment, and yet you continue to read along. The opening itself reveals so much, yet keeps everything concealed – a story that “announces their secret from the beginning yet still seem to unfold surprisingly”. Joanna manages to write the story that she sought after.
If you ever need a clean, distraction-free interface online, when your editor of choice on your system is no longer available with you, you can access the online editor of Calmly Writer. All it provides is a blank slate with a blinking cursor, hiding away a few settings it has as you begin writing. However, if customization interests you, it also provides “focus mode”, “dark mode”, formatting, backup, export options and a lot more to get the editor to your liking.
One Final Inspiration
Whenever I see other writers who write better than me, instead of comparing myself with them then feel bad with my own outputs; I make them my inspiration.
Someday I’ll be as good as them, or release my own book just like how bravely they did.
I went casual shopping today. I didn't dress up as I would normally do whenever I go out in my hometown. How I look as I go outside does not matter to me much these days. Anyway, all I had to shop for was some groceries and a few ointments.
The way I looked today was fine for the larger town I have settled in. Rather the shabbier I dress up, greater the respect I gain from a store owner. Or so I believe. This theory fails royally in my comparatively smaller hometown.
As expected, I was consciously ignored by the store owners and the attendants. I, then, asked for a specific item, a Himalaya - a well-known Indian brand - face cream. I returned the Himalaya face gel asking for the cream variant. And it is then that they called me "sir".
This incident repeated itself at another store. My shabby attire made everyone attending in the store to ignore me. I then asked for a lip balm of from Nivea. I returned the strawberry flavoured one he hesitantly handed me and asked for a variant that's especially for men. It is then that they called me "sir".
I have realized over the years (and from the sheer amount of effort my dad puts in dressing up just to go out of the main door) that it matters here how you present yourself outside - especially in shops as a customer. However, if a shabby looking attire makes the store owners and attendants ignore you, the specificity of your wants makes you special.
Ever since I travelled back to my hometown, I have not been able to keep up with my routine. I’m not sure of the reasons, but things have been tricky.
One reason I believe is my mindset. For years now, I have been travelling to this place, to my other home, only on vacations. I would take long leaves, be off work and spend some relaxed time in the city where I’ve spent the majority of my early years. I feel I’ve grown accustomed to the air here and now I associate it with relaxation. Hence it has been extremely difficult to do anything else.
I’ve been sleeping a lot more. I’ve been eating a lot more. I’ve been slacking a lot more. I can do my office work, that doesn’t seem to be affected. But every other routine task is. I was waiting for things to naturally get back to normal. 2 weeks in and I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening.
So I am forcing myself now to get back into the routine. Time to bring the diaries, the journals back. Get the diet, the focus apps out. Reset those snoozed alarms again. Close eyes for those mindful 2 minutes. Stare regularly at the blinking cursor.
I recently took a big decision to travel across the state and temporarily settle down into my hometown. Closer to my family and friends. I'm anyway working from home. So it doesn't matter how far away from the office I actually am. It wasn't an easy decision, but a strong desire to break the monotonous routine made it a lot clear. So over the weekend, I and my close family travelled and have begun to settle into a new place.
Consequently, I could hardly find time for everything that was routine for me. One of them is the weekly issue of my newsletter. With just a couple of days in hand, the self-doubt had started clouding my mind, making me question whether I'm on the right track. Should I continue to spend time on publishing the weekly issues? Would I have enough time to curate each issue to make it interesting? Am I failing at another side project? A timely comment from a reader cleared the doubts. And it also gave me the topic for the next issue; I cleaned the slate and started curating it afresh.
In this week's issue of Slanting Nib & A Keyboard, I feature the essays that, in no way, preach how the fear of failure can be, should be overcome. Rather they attempt to persuade that it is all fine to fail. I needed the nudge myself. Each of these essays lent that to me.
Do give it a read online. If what you read interests you, please subscribe. If you are already subscribed and have been enjoying the issues, I will appreciate if you forward them to your friends.
PS: The issue also has a glaring mistake -- so fitting to let the first one (that I know of) slip through in an issue about failing.
Failures, repeated failures, are finger posts on the road to achievement. One fails forward toward success. — C. S. Lewis
We are surrounded by opportunities to fail at. We judge ourselves when we can’t meet societal expectations. Furthermore, we blame ourselves when we don’t fulfil our high aspirations. For creatives, the “fear of failure” is numbing - every such mind is then inundated with suggestions to overcome this fear. Ironically, the suggestions come from the same society whose unreasonable expectations label these minds as “failures”.
In this issue, I feature the essays that, in no way, preach how such fears can be, should be overcome. Rather, they attempt to persuade that it is all fine to fail.
“Diana Athill, Margaret Atwood, Julian Barnes, Anne Enright, Howard Jacobson, Will Self and Lionel Shriver reflect on their disappointments in life, love and work”. It is a brilliant read for when the trying times drag you, your morale down. Everyone fails. Especially those who are known for their successes. I find the below passage from Anne Enright enlightening.
I have no problem with failure - it is success that makes me sad. Failure is easy. I do it every day, I have been doing it for years. I have thrown out more sentences than I ever kept, I have dumped months of work, I have wasted whole years writing the wrong things for the wrong people. Even when I am pointed the right way and productive and finally published, I am not satisfied by the results. This is not an affectation, failure is what writers do. It is built in.
“What makes a good writer? Is writing an expression of self, or, as TS Eliot argued, ‘an escape from personality’? Do novelists have a duty? Do readers? Why are there so few truly great novels? Zadie Smith writes about literature’s legacy of honourable failure.”
Map of disappointments - Nabokov would call that a good title for a bad novel. It strikes me as a suitable guide to the land where writers live, a country I imagine as mostly beach, with hopeful writers standing on the shoreline while their perfect novels pile up, over on the opposite coast, out of reach. Thrusting out of the shoreline are hundreds of piers, or “disappointed bridges”, as Joyce called them. Most writers, most of the time, get wet. Why they get wet is of little interest to critics or readers, who can only judge the soggy novel in front of them. But for the people who write novels, what it takes to walk the pier and get to the other side is, to say the least, a matter of some importance.
For a writer, every rejection, every failure is an opportunity to stop writing? Why should I write when no one wants to read what I write? And what should I write about if anything that I write about doesn’t interest anyone? The doubts are genuine, but to stop after such doubts cloud your mind is to be brutal on the creative mind. Annie Dillard lays out many ways that writers can trudge along through the difficult phases of self-scrutiny.
One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.
Author of a published novel, Andrea often writes short essays and stories. Carve Magazine had published one of her short stories, Kudzu as part of their Fall 2015 issue. Andrea magnificently narrates this layered story of an ageing lady and her two relationships – one that’s blooming and another that’s lost. The Kudzu fields surrounding the town plays a role that’s a lot more significant than being just a backdrop.
When the regular music distracts you while you write, the ambient noise of just a café does not work, Noisli can help. A “digital place for focus” as the team behind describes the service, it allows you to mix and match various sounds to get that perfect environment. You can select the ambient sounds of rain, thunder, fire, forest and many others. It also provides a curated playlist of such sound mixes.
One Final Inspiration
When an idea strikes follow that pure inspiration. That pure untapped creative energy all the way to fruition. That’s what we do as writers. We channel a stroke of pure brilliance / insanity and turn it into something tangible.
Have any recommendations or feedback for me? I’d love to hear from you. Just hit reply, or you can even email me.
Thank you for reading and sharing.
-Amit
Another issue of Slanting Nib & A Keyboard newsletter is out today. It features a few essays from the masters who have, over the years, learned to command the art by confronting each of the factors that drive every writer or a creative mind to satisfaction - inspiration, focus and craft.
I had to delay this issue by an hour as I could not complete my final review in time. It was a race against meeting the deadline and the last-minute call from work made it all the more difficult. I usually find the links that I want to feature way ahead of time. However, I carefully include the comments later to be sure about why I'm including the link as part of the issue. I had to rush through the commentary part today. So, if you find the description slightly incoherent, my planning-gone-wrong is to blame - a learning experience to not trudge too close to the deadline.
Do give it a read online. If what you read interests you, please subscribe. If you are already subscribed and have been enjoying the issues, I will appreciate if you forward them to your friends.
