Myverse, and Breaking Out

Riding Out - with Nightcafe AI

Like the onrush of traffic from the stoplights at the corner, the roar flooded into my waking being. Then ebbed. Par for an early morning in Panchshila Park. A brief, unfamiliar silence, another incoming roar. Then a silence that rang in my ears. 

The aural pattern was different, and as a cool blue light filtered into the room, I told myself, as gently as to a child -  that’s the Laccadive Sea, breaking onto Mount Lavinia beach. And, if you draw the curtains open, ten kilometers into the fine mist of a coastal dawn, you will see the towers of downtown Colombo. 

After coffee, we’d go for a long walk on the beach. Yesterday, down south, at Hikkaduwa, it was a swim - after I’d waded out, beyond the breaking surf, into the emerald swell of the bay. Convinced I’d earned my eggs and dosa, I’d spend a half-hour over breakfast. Then I’d retire to a nook in my room, spend a morning in what passes for work, playing with the actors and forces in Myverse. 

Each of us has a Myverse, a combination of family and friends, work and play, production and consumption, that is uniquely our own. Billions of utterly unique Myverses, each anchored in our own corporeal beings, yet floating in the ether of the interwebs, flirting with myriad other Myverses swaying in the cloud.

Myverse is mobile, and robust. It thrives in the autumn cold of Kumaon, and the buzzing air-conditioners of May in Delhi. 

Myverse is seductive. It rocks me to a familiar rhythm: play and eat; work and eat; snooze and work; read and eat. Then sleep.

There’s something to be said for familiarity. Myverse is crafted to my level of competence, to my confidence in taking on the tasks it sets for me. Myverse, though gently shifting with the days, is my zone of comfort for days, weeks, even months on end.

But two days from now, I’ll break with Myverse, and launch into a new zone, possibly one of discomfort. Pedalling into the muggy mornings of Sri Lanka, Mohit Oberoi and I will explore the north-western coast of Sri Lanka, the beaches and bleached coral reefs of Negombo, Kalpitiya, and if my legs hold out (his will), ride all the way up to Jaffna. Swimming, exploring, and sheltering from the sweltering sun.

Why do this? Why exit the cocoon?

I don’t think you have a choice. You are like that only. Or not. Your inner nature is not of your making; it was given to you, and you have to thank your stars for the freedoms of the modern world, the prosperity of your forebears, and the forbearance of your spouse to indulge the lad lurking inside the aging six foot five inch frame.

Time and again, I’ve broken out of zones of comfort, in my work and my hobbies and the most personal aspects of my lifestyle. In ‘Battling Boredom’, I wrote* about entering the world of start-up investing because I was bored of public markets. This, I wrote, turned out to be the best professional decision I took, not because it made me rich (the jury of profitable exits is still out), but because it energised me into eight years of deep engagement and learning with bright and passionate young minds. 

In this world of start-ups and new technology, ‘disruptive’ is seen as the highest accolade - a new business that tears apart the status quo, and creates a new product or business model, bringing delight to its consumers, and billions to its founders, and those who funded them. Disruptive, too, were those who tackled the hegemony of the Church, the forces of patriarchy, the repressive powers of the State -  colonial or cloaked in nationalism. 

My deepest Salaams to all such people of deep conviction, and immense moral courage, Disrupting the status quo in society is the work of a lifetime, sometimes many lifetimes. These require rare genes, found in but a sprinkling of souls at any one time.

Me, I’m happy for that much more common itch, a burr in the saddle that says, 

“Get out and smell the countryside!”

P.S. I may not write next Sunday, as I should be on the road, but more when I’m back in MyVerse.

*https://mohitsatyanand.substack.com/p/battling-boredom