What the Manual Said

Somewhere in an Indian metro, a decade or two back, there was this family. It was nearabout this time of the year; Diwali; time to buy things for the house. That particular year was about getting a VCR (remember?). Buying the big, flat, black box was one thing. And using it was quite another.

There were all these little buttons and knobs and dials and god-knows-whats. The family was lost. And then, voila! They found the manual. Saved! Well, partly at least. The bits in English helped. The bits in Japanese looked more useful though.

This is where we come to the what’s-the-point highway café common to most of my posts. You can see ‘Blaze of Glory’ and ‘The Cleansing’ catching a coffee in that corner.

The point. We all need manuals, for some or most things we do these days (life is getting complex, isn’t it? But then, that’s another post). Some manuals come in these booklets with the information in half a dozen languages. Some manuals are stored in the balding, graying heads of an older generation that seems to forget everything but manualese. Some manuals are created on the fly, as you figure out your way of doing it. And because you are so proud of your way, it becomes the Holy Grail. It too becomes a manual.

There are three i-words that I hold very dear. Apart from the plain ‘I’ that is. These words are: instinct, impulse and intuition.

Now there are some who will raise a polite, tentative finger and ask; excuse me, but weren’t we talking about manuals? Patience, my friend.

Like I was saying, instinct, impulse and intuition. These are words that are linked to the plain ‘I’. The me, rather. These are words that have told me what to do. These are words that have shaped my life, that have shaped me. These words never needed a manual. And furthermore, they did not insist on being manualised either. Because, like evanescent angels, they appeared when I needed them, and then they shimmered away, gone with the moment that was theirs. Their wisdom, their beauty was not meant to be captured and hammered into someone else. Those someone elses would just have to find their own i-sets.

Thank you for indulging my erratic meandering. Getting back to manuals… There are times I have used manuals. There are times I have figured it out without a cryptic booklet to tell me how. And there are times when I have gone plain against every Holy Grail manual and every one of the walking-talking grey haired variety too. There are times when the manuals have shook their collective heads sadly and said, ‘tch tch’. There are times, when the manuals (still getting over their surprise that I managed to pull off a Lebowski) have said, ‘Ah, I told you so.’ Oh yes, the manual is always right.

You do things. Simple things like brushing your teeth, you figure out the how, even if you forget the when at times. Complex things involve lots of other things you need to do. And this is where manuals come in to tell you how to get these things done. The books are alright. They suggest, and don’t take offense if you decide to strike out on your own. The other manuals… well, they take some handling. And there is no manual on how to do that.

The point is that you do the things that you do. A lot of them are based on conventional wisdom and you can listen to the manuals. Some of them though need some improvisation. You didn’t come out of a mould, and neither did your life. Manuals don’t work all the time. What these things need is the i-factor. Remember? Instinct, etcetera… Yes, those ones. That’s what you need.

But what about the manuals? Won’t they be offended?

Well, go on and look like you’re reading the manual. You could even pretend to be trying out some of the steps. But with the really important things in life, what you really should be doing, is figuring it out by yourself. The I way.

By the way, if it works well for you (which I hope it does), please do not manual it on someone else.

Cogito Ergo Vivum