Je ne sais quoi

For someone who claims to live life as objectively as possible, trusting only that which can be known with an overwhelming certainty, I sure am a bad ambassador for the cause when it comes to believing in the romanticism of the unknown. A sixth sense of sorts. Instinct, perhaps. Sure, I don’t live my life based on that, but I definitely feel this ever-present sense of predictability around me, that is quite dependable even though I may choose to not depend on it. And it is not like I have figured it out or anything. But every now and then, way too often actually, I have these a-ha moments where I know in my mind but can't say for certain, rationally, and sure enough, that’s exactly how it plays out!

It happens even with the simplest of things. The music I like. The talks I have. What I read, what I see, what I hear...Words have personality, and they drop all kinds of hints. It is why you expect certain people to say certain things. It is why some words sound so right, coming out of some people’s mouths but not out of others’. Because they sort of belong there. And you can’t say why. But you know.

I consider myself to have a much keener eye, ear, or a third hitherto unknown sensibility, for the written/spoken/sung word than most people I know. That is not necessarily a good or a bad thing. But I have always realized or felt this about myself; that I can glean more meaning out of words than most people can. I can go back as far as I can remember and I can say it has always been like that. Not that I thought much of it and I still don’t. But I can sense that there are different levels of communication in what is written. There is a lot of meaning packed into every piece of writing; from the most mundane email to the most profound philosophy. And sure, everyone knows that is true in an existential, or a metaphysical way, but I am talking about something very real here. Almost objective! Like I can read a piece of writing from someone I have never heard of before and I can imagine a picture of what the person looks like, based purely on the writing, what they must really be thinking when they wrote it, and what they really meant to say. And a very disturbing number of times, that is way closer to how it really is than you’d think a random guess would be. When I find that out, that’s the a-ha moment.

As you’d expect, a weird thing such as this is very hard to communicate, ordinarily. It is much harder of course, to find an irrefutable validation of this sense. But once in a blue moon, that unknown sense picks up a blip somewhere, and you know you're on to something.

I love the way certain people write and talk. Some are extremely accomplished, some equally obscure, some in between. Bob Dylan, Jonathan Saffran Foer, Jerry Seinfeld, Larry David, Leonardo DiCaprio, Adam Duritz, Allen Ginsberg, Pu La Deshpande, Gulzar…they just have a way with words. And I am pretty convinced it is more than just my preference or taste or style. I feel like they are just superior writers, objectively. Because when I read their work, I can trace a thought line. A personality. A genuine streak. A certain authenticity. I don’t just like how they write; I agree with how they think. Ever notice how people are mostly consistent within themselves? For example, people who are generally happy, fun, personable are almost never right-leaning, conservatives or hardliners. Why is that? Why are people with soft voices almost always gentle people? Why are people in art generally more liberal in their views than say, people in money jobs? Why is it so hard to find a painter who despises gays, but not so hard to find a bureaucrat who hates them? Why can you look at a person’s face and get a vibe of how their personality is going to be? Why can you feel very strongly about how a meeting or an interview is going to play out the moment you enter the room? Why does your instinct tell you that a person is good or bad, the very first time you meet them? Because, people do all kinds of things to give themselves away. And we pick up on that even if only subconsciously. Science might not be fully there yet, and we might not have put our finger on how that works exactly. For me, that streak, the one that gives everything away, is very pronounced when I read a person’s writing.

Coming back to the list of my favorite writers. I always liked all of them. But more than me just liking their work, I sort of felt they come from the same place. There is a clear common thread. For example, I have been a crazy fan of old Hindi classics. I love it as an art form. And there is a bevy of stalwarts there, when you think of it in toto. But I can pick a Gulzar song out of a lineup. Heck, I can pick out Gulzar lines from a movie! And not just because the quality of his writing is head and shoulders above anybody else’s. But mostly because it rings way truer than others. Because he uses just the right words. And nobody else, even if they used the exact same words, would sound nearly as true as him. Also, every time I hear a Gulzar, it feels like I have heard it all before in a Dylan song. And there are Dylan songs that sound like Gulzar could have written them. Same with Pu La and Jerry. And sure, people can have similar thought lines and writing styles; that in itself is hardly astonishing. But there is just more to it…I somehow sense it, but there is no way I can articulate it. It is almost like these people are part of the same superhero posse, operating individually in different parts of the world, and trying hard to not give away any connections between themselves.

And then, when I come across a solid, irrefutable connection, there is this overwhelming sense of vindication. An a-ha moment.

I was around 8 when I heard “Ballimarran ke mohallon ki vo pecheeda daleelon ki si galiyan” from the Mirza Ghalib TV series on national TV and thought it sounded strange. Didn’t know anything about what it meant, who wrote it or anything. It just sounded strange. Maybe it had something to do with that deep husky voice that voiced it out. But it was strange enough for me to remember. I probably heard it a few times over the next 15 years and always thought it was strange. When I was old enough to think about what it could mean, breaking it down word by word, it still didn’t make much sense. But it sounded strangely beautiful. Or beautifully strange. Ballimarran was obviously a place. Mohalla would be a community or a neighborhood. Pecheeda means difficult. Daleel means an appeal. And galiyaan means lanes. But all put together, what could it mean? Lanes of a Ballimarran neighborhood like difficult appeals? What the hell could that mean? And why did it sound so right?

And then, I stumble upon a Gulzar interview, where he incidentally talks of this very same line! It was hair raising to hear him say that he loved this line! And how he couldn’t take the credit for it himself. By his own admission, he had picked up the line from a TS Eliot piece that went,‘...these streets run complicated, like tedious arguments’. Of course! Ballimarran ke mohallon ki vo pecheeda daleelon ki si galliyan! What a beautiful way to put it! That's exactly how navigating complicated, crowded streets feels like. Like having to work through a painful argument! Or the other way round, if you will. You can't speed it up, you can't afford to not focus, and you just can't be at peace! To compare complicated, narrow lanes with tedious arguments divulges a personality! Perfect! And I knew there was something about that line since I was 8, before I knew who Gulzar was, who TS Eliot was, or what any of it meant! I just knew it! An a-ha moment!

To connect the dots some more, I know all too well about how Dylan is influenced heavily by TS Eliot as well! Ginsberg influenced and was influenced by Dylan. Duritz too. All of them are Jewish. Maybe just a coincidence? Talking about alleged coincidences, how about this one? Leonardo DiCaprio played the lead role in Titanic. Dylan decided to write a song about the Titanic around 15 years after the movie, and in his song, decided to mention “Leo and his sketchbook” as a fictional character on the ship, as a playful cross reference to the movie. And then, they find out, after the song was out, that there actually was a passenger aboard the real Titanic, who died in the tragedy, who’s name was Leo Zimmerman. Bob Dylan’s real last name is Zimmerman. Maybe still a coincidence. Maybe not. Oh, and I happened to watch the movie when it came out in 3D. Purely by happenstance, I was watching it on April 14, 2012. Which just happened to be exactly 100 years after the real Titanic sank. I was sitting in the theater, watching it all in 3D (almost real life, as they sell it), when exactly 100 years ago, it was actually happening, in real life! Maybe I am fishing too much here and grasping at straws to form a coherent thread that says I don’t know what, but it is something! Especially for someone who believes that there is no such thing as coincidences, just random chaos.

The larger point remains. It goes beyond music and Dylan and Gulzar. It goes beyond how I can sense with at least mildly surprising accuracy when someone is going to screw someone over. The point is that there is a very evident, noticeable, perhaps covert force that science has not been able to pin down yet. Everyone knows science and rationality are still nascent. They will probably always play catch up with humanity. Even though we haven’t been able to pin something down yet, can we still acknowledge it and believe it exists?

To quote Dylan “…you know something is happening, but you don’t know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?”