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Thursday 24 April 2014

WISDOM AND A DRUNK

A long time ago in a land far away, there was a village. The village was perfect in all ways. The folk were honest, the folk were happy and the folk were generous. They had but one who smirched their profound perfection. This was the village drunk.

He paid no heed to the common, hardworking folk of the village.  He but lay under a coconut tree, the same coconut tree every day, and sipped from his bottle of wine. As was expected, the village people grew weary of his drunken ways and shunned him from the village. The place he had called home since his birth.

Yet, he would not leave his bottle. The villagers dragged him from his home and out all the way to the village entrance, he clutched only one item in his hands; his bottle of wine. The villagers threw him out and the village elder read the decree that shunned him from his home.

The drunk, with great difficulty heaved himself off the floor and made attempt to stand erect. He turned his back on home, hugging his bottle and began walking away slowly and unsteadily.

As the dusk set in, he grew weary, unaware the distance he had travelled. His concern lay with the fact that his bottle but had a few drops left. Just a few yards ahead he saw the most beautiful coconut tree he had ever seen in his life. He trotted, with all the energy he had left, and reached this beautiful tree and set himself down.

He then realized, again, that he has but a few drops left in his bottle. His thirst grew as the hours passed and the sky turned from orange to black. It was a starry night. The drunk could not take it any longer. He held the bottle to his lips and drank till the last drop of wine touched and soaked his lips.

At this time an old traveller passed by. “Young man” he said looking at the drunk, “Any alms can you spare for an old traveller from yonder?” the old man requested. The drunk, now not so drunk, saw this frail traveller and felt pity for he had nothing to offer.

“Old man, I have nothing but this bottle of wine and it is unfortunately empty else I would have shared” said the drunk.

“Young man, I understand” said the Old man, “I have travelled long and my hunger I can contain, but my feet are weary. Allow me to rest near you.”

“Old man, this is no place of mine. I own nothing but this bottle. You are free to rest anywhere you please”

The old man walked towards the drunk and took a seat beside him. The night was cold and this traveller was clad in nothing but a robe.

“Old man, you have travelled far and wide have you not?” asked the drunk.

“Yes indeed young man I have”

“So you must be wise. The knowledge of many a people you must have attained”

“Yes young man, in my travel I acquired very little barring knowledge”

“Tell me Old man. Who is GOD?”

The old man was shocked at the question. This he had not expected from a drunk. “Young man, you ask not a small question. This is a wisdom that must be earned and I fear I cannot give it to you without a price”

The drunk stared at the old man. This reply he did not expect from one who claims to be knowledgeable. “Old man, you have insulted me when I have offered you a resting place. How is this fair?”

“Young man, I understand I have hurt you. This was not my intention. To put you at ease, I will answer any other question you ask but not this one”

“Old man, I have but one other question. What is LOVE?” asked the drunk. The old man stared in wonder at this drunk.

“Young man, choose your question wisely. I have travelled far and wide. I have knowledge of wealth beyond any King can dream of. I have knowledge of the whereabouts of a land where the rivers are wine and the women are free. Choose wisely”

“Old man, I have no home. I have no desire for wealth or the compassion of a woman I do not care for. I have but a few days before I end victim to my hunger and thirst. I have but one question. What is LOVE?”

The old man continued to stare at the drunk. He then smiled and said, “Young man, I have met many men and not one had asked me the right question. You have indeed chosen wisely”

“Young man, the answer to your question is this. LOVE is GOD” and the old man smiled. His weariness disappeared and he was revitalized. The drunk frowned for he did not understand.

“Old man, what you say makes no sense”

“Young man, LOVE is GOD. LOVE is abundance and it is joy. It is formless and appears to those who truly call for it. There are many ways to LOVE, but remember son, all rivers lead to the ocean. LOVE is bind; it does not understand what you see. LOVE is deaf; it has no knowledge of what you say. LOVE is dumb; it has no language. LOVE is simple; it understands your intention. LOVE is as powerful as you believe it to be; it is driven on faith. In its truest form it can never be tarnished or hurtful. It can only be joy, a bliss that we search for but forget that exists within us. We can give as much LOVE as we choose and there would still be some more left. In fact there would always be even more than we have given or shared. It does not judge. It does not punish. It has no reason”

The drunks’ eyes filled with tears as a realization hit him so hard it was overwhelming. For he was a drunk, but he had loved once; and she was beautiful. He was lost in her. Just as the old man said, he had no reason. Just her presence had made him happy. Alas, she was not meant for him. She ran off with another and bore his children. That is how he became the village drunk.

“Young man, there is a catch. For those who truly want to experience LOVE, we must not let our disappointment, our failures, our anger and most of all, our fear trap us. These are imaginary and temporary. We must just LOVE. For when we simply LOVE, there is no mountain too high or river too deep. Let LOVE guide you out of your fear. Be free my son”

The drunk woke up the next day under the coconut tree, the same coconut tree that he had sat under and drank every day for the last decade. He put the bottle aside and stared at the sun mighty, powerful and ever so bright.


 Within us lies the greatest power that ever existed; an infinite. LOVE.

Take My Hand Susie

Seated very comfortably in a subway station, watching as the trains sped by, a blur, was a beautiful woman. As is the case with most beautiful women, she was approached by a stranger, a man. He gently requested her if he may sit next to her. She smiled and nodded. For reasons unknown the man felt shy, like a child, he blushed. Fortunately, it didn’t reveal much on his face. He took a moment and stared at her. She seemed lost, in a far-away land. He could see the reflection of the train as it passed in her hazel eyes, but she did not blink. Feeling that the moment was moving towards “awkward” he took his seat. He popped open a book and pretended to read, while watching her through the corner of his eyes. She seemed so still, calm, almost motionless except for the slight heaving of her chest as she took slow, deep breaths. She continued to stare ahead. Did she not notice him? What could this woman be so immersed in? He smiled, wondering how a woman he wanted to simply “hit on” ended up stirring up so much curiosity in him.
            Time passed by as he kept pondering, creating random theories in his head; some so ludicrous, they involved aliens. His every attempt to start a conversation failed miserably. He planned about how to start but the words wouldn’t come out. Every few minutes he would open his mouth but the words never came out. Some of the other waiting passengers gawked at him. Feeling embarrassed and slightly frustrated, he decided to withdraw into his book. Few sentences in, he realized there was no point. He was obsessing. He figured it would be best if he moved and sat somewhere else. But, he failed at this as well. He was too befuddled to move. He had to know and yet he didn’t want to know. The line between necessity and desire were now obscure to him. Not a word had been spoken and he was already spellbound. What was this sick, harmonious, deluded and calming magic? Nothing made sense. The gawkers were almost invisible to him. So lost he was, in the moment.
            A few minutes later a train stopped and the most amazing thing happened. She looked at him and smiled. It was the same smile she had given when she nodded earlier. She picked up her bag and walked, ever so gracefully, towards the door of the train. He couldn’t even respond to the smile. Was he so lost? Was he so confused if so, about what? The questions just filled his mind. The train whizzed by and his eyes followed, trying desperately to see her. The effort was of course in vain. Before he knew it, she was gone. He sighed, wishing he had had the courage to lift himself and take the train with her. Just to be near her. He continued to think of her, imagine her sitting next to him; attempting to weave the image, emotions and moment into his head. He suddenly noticed that she had left something behind, on her seat. There was a book, it looked like a diary. He stared at it wondering if he should keep it or leave it. He tapped his fingers on his lap as he contemplated on his next set of actions. The risk wasn’t high, it couldn’t be. She was a total stranger; she couldn’t possibly know how to find him. The chances of him meeting her again seemed too remote for him to worry. He took a deep breath and picked up the book. It was surprisingly lighter than he had expected it to be. The book was too thick for it to weigh so less. His head began pounding, every bone in his body was screaming, telling him to read it. He was never a curious man, and peering into the lives of others was not embedded into his moral code. The compulsion however, was too overwhelming. He decided to make it a win-win situation for his strict morals and his curiosity; he decided to read only the first page. He flipped open the cover, expecting to find a name or random scribbling but instead found a neatly printed sentence. It said, “All in due time” and nothing more. The thick book was empty. He stood still and flipped through the pages again just to confirm he hadn’t missed anything; nothing. Except for the one line, every page was blank. He shoved the book into his coat pocket and began walking out of the station. He knew, beyond reasonable doubt, the woman had left the book there for him. She intended him to read it. What was this trap he was falling into? What illusion was this strange magician playing? 
            It was only when he reached home (the memory of which failed him) did he realize that he had seen the woman before. He just couldn’t figure out where. Was he confusing himself? Was he creating a truth that may never have been, just to satisfy his growing hunger? Did he, in fact, know this woman? Six glasses of whiskey down, he had no patience or energy to think about it anymore. His bed beckoned, the night had grown weary. As strange a day he had had, he had to rest.
*******************
The school yard was bustling with little boys and girls, oblivious to the rationalized consequences of any of their actions; frolicking about the yard, noisy as ever. The boys rolled in the mud, played with the bugs and the girls were indulged in detailed conversations about which doll they should invite for tea. The hustle and bustle of playground life was not a major appeal to all the little kids though. Very few of the other kids noticed a small, chubby little three-year-old with hazel eyes firmly seated in the corner building sand castles in her head; even those who did notice, simply passed by. One of the girls was nice enough to invite her for tea with herself and a Barbie doll. The hazel-eyed wonderer shook her head, rather violently. The nice girl walked away gossiping with her Barbie in a language that no man knew.
This little three-year-old was Susie. Little Susie never liked to play much. To her the games were for the more active minded folk. She preferred to imagine what she could build if the sandbox, in which the boys were gleefully rolling in, was hers and hers alone. She never saw herself as selfish, as for one to be selfish one must have possessions. She did not. This young bird was a wee bit jealous of the other children. The spite was what kept her away. It was any other day, school, the playground and then home. She felt no need to change what she always did; wonder. It amused her. But, little Susie was in for a surprise that day, a surprise that would shake her world and break its very foundation.
It was an unusually bright day; the clouds were floating steady above their heads. Little Susie decided that the sandbox was boring and stared upward towards the clouds. She giggled as little girls do. One of the clouds was in the shape of a cat. She flopped backwards and lay there, staring as the cat floated by, then came a house, next something very similar to a car and the floating cumulus objects continued to roll on. Her eyes began to shut and the weariness of giggling and staring took its toll on young Susie. She dozed away into her Neverland; hopeful to find Peter-Pan and Wendy flying about and ever ready to foil Captain Hook’s notorious schemes. But Susie was awoken by a sudden jerk. She woke up groggy and startled; nonetheless she didn’t throw a tantrum. Above her loomed a figure. The figure wore a hooded cloak, a black cloak. Susie was already afraid, but nothing could have prepared her for what came next, the hooded figure showed her its face. It had none. It was blank and white. There were no eyes, no ears or a mouth; just plain white. Susie tried to scream but the sound wouldn’t come out. She did the only other thing she knew; she covered her face with both her palms hoping beyond hope that this frightening mist would float away, just like the cat, the house and the car did before she was washed over by the lullaby in the winds. She slowly lowered her hands, just enough so that she could see. It still stood there, tall and lingering.
“Do not be scared child” the mist said, in a distant voice. The voice was calming. It was a woman’s voice. The voice gave little Susie enough comfort and courage to fully lower her hands and stare at the faceless, hooded mist. “Take my hand Susie and let me show you why I have come” it said again in the same distant female voice. Susie knew that talking to strangers was a bad thing, but this voice was familiar. It was no stranger. It was just strange. The faceless mist extended a misty hand, or at least what looked like a hand. Susie pondered for a moment, her forefinger pressed to her lips, and then she reached out to the outstretched formless hand of the mist. It gripped her hand firmly and said, “Let’s take a walk”. Susie stood up and nodded, with a smile on her face.
*******************
He needed the day off. The hangover demanded it. He had never drunk so much; the previous day was just too much, although he failed to understand why. The book lay on his table, open. The words on the first page clear. “All in due time” it said. He stared at it, his mind completely blank. For no reason he flipped to the second page and he was shocked. There were words. He was certain that the page was empty the first time. How was this possible? He flipped through the remaining pages and they were all blank. Where did this appear from? He quickly scurried around his house, making sure everything was in order and that nothing was missing. He scratched his head and walked back slowly to his table. He picked up the book and read what was “newly” written:
Dear Howard,
I know this seems strange to you. There isn’t much I can do about it now. I am asking you to remember one thing, “All in due time”. Please don’t ever forget that; for my sake. I feel I am the luckiest person alive. I have known you all my life and now I have the opportunity to relive every moment again. You will understand what I am saying in the days to pass. For now, you must remain yourself. The mysteries of your life will unravel and I will be presented to you, but all in due time. Do not search for me else I will become but a figment of your imagination. You must do what you always do.
Love,
Susie

How on earth did she know his name? Was this some game? He began to think there was a hidden camera in the room. He never knew anyone named Susie and yet, she says she has known him her whole life. Howard looked around and found the whiskey bottle empty. “All in due time” he said to himself. He closed the book and his eyes simultaneously. Why was this happening to him? All he had wanted was a beautiful date for the upcoming weekend and now he had this to deal with. He needed some air. He got dressed and moved out into the street. It wasn’t crowded, it never was. It gave him room to think as he walked. His pace was steady initially but as his thoughts went deeper his pace became more and more irregular. All of a sudden, he was sitting in his room, glass of whiskey in his hand and the book propped open on the floor in front of him.

What does a man do, when he is instructed what not to do? He does what he shouldn’t. Howard, once again, got out of his house and ran to the subway. He went in search of the seat he had sat on the previous day. He kept searching and searching but couldn’t find it. The seat didn’t exist. He grabbed his hair with both hands. He was sure there was a seat where he stood. It wasn’t there anymore. Dejected, frustrated and confused Howard made his way back out of the subway. Just to make sure he was at the right place, he looked back and what he saw was both amazing and yet, impossible. There he was sitting on the seat and there she was right next to him, her gazing ahead. He had to be going mad. There was something in that book. He turned away and walked home.

He was lost. He was home, but he was lost. What did he see? He was certain he wasn’t dreaming, the prickling he felt from the cut on his thumb was enough to prove that. The book lay on the floor in front of him, and the knife beside it. He stared at it. He remembered tales his grandmother had told him about the world of black magic. He never believed in it but after what he saw today, he could believe anything. His breaths became heavier and he began to pace up and down his hallway, blood from his thumb dripping every few steps. Finally he had his conclusion. He picked up the book and flung it out of his window; thinking that there are some things that he just wasn’t ready for, nor did he ever want to be.

*******************
Susie, holding the hand of the mist, watched herself, from a distance, as she sliced the birthday cake in front of her. The cake had a nice fat candle propped on it, shaped as the number five. She was five. She witnessed her birthday as an invisible guest, courtesy of the faceless, hooded mist. She smiled as she watched herself feed her parents the cake. She giggled as she tore open her presents. She had gotten a bike; her first possession. She laughed as she watched herself play musical chairs with so many unknown faces. The mist pointed its face towards her, nodded and said, “We must keep moving child” and began to pull her, or so it seemed.

“Who are you?” Susie finally asked. After a two year journey with the mist, she realized she did not know who it was. Through her two year journey, she had seen everything; her new friends, her fourth birthday, her new toys and their new house as well. She stood witness to every event, every truth. Better still she had watched it happen. It made her happy to know she was her own guardian, her own fairy godmother. The mist turned towards her and bent down, “I am the one everyone knows, yet no one sees. I am the one who brings day and night, I am truth, and I am constant. I am Time, little one”. It took a while for Susie to process the statement. But a five-year-old could only wonder so much. She shrugged and asked, slightly abashed, “What should I call you?” and the mist replied, “Whatever you wish young one”. Susie stood silent as Time pulled her through the vortex of her years.

Susie was now thirteen. She watched as she fell in love for the first time, as she became more and more aware of her body and began to lose sense of who she was in an attempt to find herself. She had many friends by then and she was fairly an independent young girl. She knew how to handle her own work. Her grades varied through the year. She and her mother began arguing more. But why was Time showing her all this? She asked, “Why me?” and all Time had to say was, “All in due time dear one”. Susie did not understand this. There could not have been a more ambiguous answer. But she chose not to argue.

Time now moved her through her teen years and straight into her college years. Here she saw how lost she had really become. She understood, as she witnessed herself that the more people try to find themselves, the more they lose themselves. Time finally spoke, “You see young woman there is no meaning in seeking what is already yours. Finding yourself does not happen. How can you find something that is in you, that is you? As you yourself bear witness to yourself losing your way through the years, all the while hoodwinked by the tune of the pied-pipers flute” and Susie nodded. Time was here to teach her a lesson. She understood that it was not important to find who we are but to embrace who we are. Once we embraced ourselves, then there was nothing left to find. Any road taken became the “road less travelled”.

As Time continued to move her ahead in the vortex, she saw something that drew her interest; it stirred a joy she had never felt. There she sat at a subway station, watching the trains pass and a most handsome young man sat beside her. She saw how shy she was, how she wished to speak but could not. The man simply read his book. He seemed oblivious to her existence. She watched as the train arrived and she left, without saying a word to the man. Who was this man? She had to know. She slowly looked at Time, smiled and nodded.

*******************
It had been a week since Howard saw the diary of “doom”. He was finally recovering from the shock. His work was back on track, his life, back in order. However, at times Howard wished he hadn’t thrown out the diary of “doom”. It was the only thing in his life that made him feel special. Everything else was typical, at least it seemed so. Howard sat, randomly scribbling on his notepad, in a board meeting. He wasn’t a board member, but he was part of a team that was involved in a new product design and he needed to give a presentation. It was most uninteresting, yet indispensable to his work.

Howard slowly took the “stage” and began to explain the market significance and the future benefits of this new-age product. As he went on, droning through the slides and the pictures, he could have sworn he heard a voice. He paused momentarily and looked at the board members, waiting to see if anyone had indeed called him; they merely blinked. He shook his head slightly and continued speaking. Once again he heard it. It was distant, a woman’s voice. He broke off again and looked at the board members again, who continued to maintain their vow of silence. It was then that he realized, there wasn’t a female board member. These were not people who would pull a prank. Was this the diary of “doom” again? He shrugged it off and rushed through the remainder of his presentation. He then told his superior that his mother was unwell and he needed to leave urgently.

Twenty minutes later, he was on the subway back to the station where it all happened. The diary of “doom”, the mystical beauty and his life’s most significant turning point. His stop arrived and he got off the train, wondering about the distant, female voice he had heard. As he walked along the subway his attention was pulled towards the seat he had sat on a week ago beside the mystical beauty; the seat where he had found the diary of “doom”. There it was. Exactly where he had run to, exactly where he had seen himself seated next to her. How was it back? He took off towards it. As he approached the seat, it began fading away and just as he reached the spot it disappeared. He dropped his bag and sighed, ruffling his hair. He slowly began to laugh. He recalled the words from the letter in the second page of the diary: “Do not search for me else I will become but a figment of your imagination” and continued to laugh, quite hysterically.

He was home, drowning in questions, dazed by the events over the last week. Though he remained calm, at least as calm as a man could be in his situation, he was internally disturbed; his life now blown open. To Howard it seemed amusing that his head would spiral out of control in such a split-second. All the signs of mental illness, yet something deep within him knew that he was not “sick” in any way whatsoever. He knew the reality of his experience. He wished he hadn’t thrown the diary away. It wasn’t “doom”, it was priceless. It would have been his secret, the one he would repeat to himself whenever he felt in doubt or questioned his being. He heard it again. This time the voice was not so distant. It was closer, much closer. It was a whisper in his ear. Howard suddenly had the gut feeling to move towards his table. It was as if someone’s heartbeat was calling him. Just as he thought it, there it came, a soft thudding from the first drawer in his desk. It was just like a heartbeat, so much so, Howard was certain it couldn’t have been anything else. He slowly moved towards the desk, every step becoming lighter, as if expecting the drawer to burst into flame, and he pulled the drawer open and there it lay, unscathed and brand new, the diary; the one that was priceless.

Howard picked up the book. It was heavier than he remembered. He began to flip the pages and sure enough, there was another entry. Howard read the words he had been both dreading and hoping to:

Dear Howard,

I know you heard me today. I called out to you and you were searching for me. I was in the room with you, you probably didn’t see me. That’s ok though. You don’t seem to enjoy your work very much do you? I can relate, though I seem to enjoy it a little bit more than you do. I know that this is still weighing heavy on you but, like I said, please remember “All in due time”. Everything has its place in this universe and so do we. Please hold on; for my sake.

Love,
Susie

Howard read and re-read the letter. This time he was sure there were other forces at play. He still had doubt in his mind. Was this worth it? Could this be real? The possibility of insanity could not be ruled out completely yet for Howard. But, he decided to give it a try. There was a fragment of his sane mind that believed this could be real and hence he stuck to his decision. The priceless diary stayed.

*******************
Time had now brought Susie to her elder years. It was peaceful, away from the hustle and bustle. Just the way little Susie imagined it to be. She lived on a farm, rearing the sheep and cattle along with a nice corn paddy. The acres of land surrounded her with scenic beauty and nothingness. The silence kept her from going senile. At sixty, Susie still had the energy of a twenty-year-old and the innocence of a three-year-old.

Susie watched, holding the hand of Time, as the aged reflection that she would be living milked the cattle, and fed the sheep. She watched herself walk through the corn fields; her hands gently brushing the tall grass, its softness making her feel light. “Take my hand Susie and this is where you will be. For Time I am constant and everything around me moves. Let me guide you through the haze in your life and let me steer you away from the obstacles. For when you stand still, you will fail to move past the moments and when you fail to proceed, I am powerless. You must promise me, to walk beside me. Every instance of your life is a fragment of a puzzle which has been cleverly designed by yourself. I am merely here to pull you through it all. One day you will rest and that day, you will see me again in all my glory. I am omnipresent and I cannot be moved from my purpose, for my purpose is to move everything else. Fear nothing; I am here to carry you above the dark clouds above the skies you know. As I lift you only the comfort lies beneath your feet and the gateway to peace is but a moment away. Cherish that moment and you shall remain there”

Susie was about to ask about to ask about the man at the station, when he stepped out of the house, ran towards her reflection and embraced her, arms wide open. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Life seemed so perfect, yet she had seen herself focus on the imperfections. She had been stuck so many times in the moments she least wanted in her life. For Time to teach her such a powerful, valuable and lasting lesson, she was gratuitous.  The faceless, hooded mist slowly disappeared and the vortex was reversed. She aged backwards, and she saw all the moments in rewind. “Thank you” she whispered as she closed her eyes.

Susie awoke in the playground. The children were still frolicking around. She stared at the sky and saw a cloud in the shape of a cat. She would have giggled, but something changed inside her. She had been here before. She knew this cloud; she had heard the sounds before. Why was it all so familiar? Had she dreamt it all before? Alas, how much could a three-year- old, chubby little girl who built sand castles in her head know? For when the moment passed it was time for her to go home and build her own life. One day she would be five and she would have her first bike, one day thirteen and she would fall in love, one day twenty and lost; so much time, yet so little.

*******************
The alarm rang hard. Howard woke up, groggy and hung-over.  His work demanded his drinking. He had it under control, though not entirely. He quickly got ready for work. He was off to the subway in no time and on the way to work. The train ride was mundane as it always was. Work itself was mundane, as it always was. He kept at it with the thought of it putting food on the table. Howard was a practical man who really didn’t have a passion for much. He imagined retiring on a farm, rearing sheep and cattle and a nice corn paddy. He wanted to retire well. He had a lot of fun with his life. He had many experiences. The train stopped at one of the stops on his way to work and a woman wearing a black coat walked in, yelling on the phone. Howard found this extremely familiar. He was easily able to guess her next words. He shrugged it off as a strange déjà vu.

Through his day of work, Howard found many instances that seemed familiar, to an odd degree. He had heard the exact same words spoken by random people. The conversation at lunch seemed even more familiar. This was the exact same conversation he had had before. He just couldn’t remember when. He was predicting everyone’s dialogues even before they said it; in his head of course. The coincidence was uncanny. He was inclined to believe he had been here, in these situations, before. Maybe he was reliving a day. He shrugged it off as a severe déjà vu.

The return train journey was tiresome and Howard took a small nap. When his station was announced he woke up startled and slowly left the cabin. Usually he would walk straight to the exit. For some reason he decided to take the longer route; possibly to have a cup of coffee before he started the long walk home. As he walked, humming a song to himself, he turned his head to one of the most beautiful sights in his life. There she sat, head facing the train as it left. He had to know her. The urge was unusually colossal. As he walked around the seat, he realized that it indeed was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Howard gently requested her if he could have a seat. She smiled and nodded; her hazel eyes ablaze with youthful energy and wonder. He took a seat next to her and pondered on how to engage in conversation. He took one more look at her and he knew what he had to say.

“You look rather familiar miss. Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked, cautiously and courteously. She turned towards him and smiled and said “I’m not sure sir. But, I must say you do look rather familiar yourself”. Howard was pleased with the response. They engaged more in conversation. They discussed books, each other’s childhoods, work and hobbies. Her train arrived and she stood up to leave. She looked at Howard again, smiled and nodded once again her hazel eyes drew all his attention and he forced a smile.
He waited for her train to leave, half deciding to jump on at the last moment. But, he was never a desperate man and he wasn’t going to start then. Just as he was about to leave he noticed she had left something behind, on her seat. It was a card. He picked it up and on it was written her name, Susie and below it was written her number. Howard smiled to himself. “What a day” he said to himself and took leave from the station and began his long walk home.

*******************

Little did either of them know that forty years from them, they would be living on a farm, rearing cattle and sheep with a nice corn paddy. Time has a funny way of playing its game. Familiarity is never a coincidence, what’s familiar is known. How could what’s known be coincidence? The rarity of those moments is what makes it worth the wait. Time is the father of patience. His twisted game would always result in a joyful result. Allow Time to guide and watch as it moves the pieces around and completes the puzzle that is our lives. The mist loomed nearby, its hood drawn down, its faceless form floating about, watching all, hearing all. Its purpose is eternal and constant. 

Men and “Issues”

Having recently come out of a mildly stressful situation (shockingly with a woman!), I realized how the way we handle stress, or in modern, social terms, “Issues”, is literally the polar opposite to that of women. “Issues” in today’s regard are mostly related to the opposite sex. This is expected as society has come to disregard anything remotely more important as insignificant and also this paves a way for psychiatrists with nothing better to do to become “relation experts”. Funny thing is, most “relation experts” have failed in relations themselves. This leads me to seriously doubt their credibility.  Let me very clear that what is written ahead is purely observational (I have a lot of time on my hands) and none of it is documented truth or based on any kind of funded research. However, I feel it is crucial that I explain my observation.

            Before I proceed I would like to highlight what comes under the “stress” category for men. I seriously feel that women are the least important problem in a man’s life. This is not to say that those problems are insignificant but, a man will generally focus on a woman-based problem if that is the only stress-scenario currently in hand and he has nothing else to worry about. The simplicity behind this logic is that men prioritize their problems and maintain them in a sort of queue. This queue does not work on a first-come-first-serve basis but on the severity of the issue at hand as per the gentleman’s point of view. Women are a reason for stress but to an extent a man enjoys this stress. I’ll begin by sequentially listing and explaining major stress reasons ion a man’s life.

First and foremost are family based problems. Family includes the whole package meaning wife, children, parents and any significant extended family members. Again I would like to enforce that “wife issues” do not come under this category. This is stress that a man faces with the family as a unit. This incorporates the financial, material, social and educational satisfaction of the family as a whole unit. For instance, in a family with two sons if one is an academic prodigy and the other is an average-Joe, this is a form of mild family based stress. A man not earning enough money will eventually loose hair over the fact that his “family” is not being provided for (to the amount that they deserve of course – assessed by the man). If in a situation where the children are in the best schools possible, the wife and kids have more than sufficient clothing and shelter and the family is financially independent, then the “nagging wife” is not a stress factor. In fact the man would barely consider this as an issue and more of a form of entertainment. Harsh, yes but true.

Next is the job security stress. Here is a man who is put in a situation where he is unsure if when he reaches work the next day, his desk will still have his name on it. For some men the job security stress may be even more frustrating than the family stress. Of course for a family man, the job security stress eventually leads to family stress, naturally. So in this case let us take a single man; one who has little or no responsibility. This single man wakes up every day wondering why he must even bother to go to work. This is not a good thought to wake up to. Waking up stressed does lead to unnecessary vices like smoking. Drinking and binge drinking are in a league apart and are mostly not related to job security stress. So, this single man, now ready for work, takes a puff of his morning cigarette and feels, as it poisons his lungs, a satisfaction that promises a good day. He reaches work and finds he’s been replaced by some newbie graduate who’s more than happy to work for close to half his pay. What a bummer. Now he has a reason to pull another cigarette out and light away and take joy in the carbon-monoxide filled smoke that twirls funny shapes in front of his eyes. A man in this position is stressed because he knows for sure that in the long-term he has no way of providing or preparing for the inevitable; family. These are the men you’ll most likely find wandering off and cautiously pushing away any form of even a remote relationship. They tend to indulge in filthy habits to make up for the emotional deprivation they put themselves through example, whores. Let’s face it, every man needs the company of a woman and when he knows he’s not worthy of it what else is going to run through his mind.

Now, we discuss the most common stress, the infamous job stress. This is slightly different from the job security stress. This is when the job is secured and now he spends every waking moment praying that he’s able to outperform the rest. Yes, this stress is born out of social necessity to always build a “competitive” work environment. But, job stress has one advantage over the other two described above; it can have a positive outcome. Bill Gates and Steve Jobs are two ideal examples. This is because their stress was born out of passion and not from a “make-do” attitude (basically your average disgruntled employee). Let’s focus on the negative impact of the stress. Primarily this constitutes the nine hour portion of your day dedicated to work. Problem is firstly a lack of work-satisfaction. This is understandable as anything done for mere survival does not play a vital role in triggering joy even upon significant output. When a man loses sight of why he does something then eventually the burden becomes that his life is one giant pointless tunnel that leads to nowhere. This stress is manageable as the end result is usually money, which for men is a very good motive. Which begs the question, why can’t a man be happy in a dead end job if his basic needs are met? As I said earlier with the “tunnel” and the “heading to nowhere” the man loses purpose. In the above two stress scenarios his stress is based on the fact that his value to others is minimalized. In this case his self-worth is put in question. This seems like a big deal, but you must understand that for a man his need to provide trumps his agenda on self-worth. Yes, most likely if the man is not happy with his job then he is more likely prone to anger and aggressive behavior like rash driving and binge drinking. This has to be understandable because the problem arises when family stress is built on top of job stress. Here the man feels he is doing “all he can” to keep the family afloat and making a valiant sacrifice by working in an environment that leaves him fatigued, bored and unchallenged (intellectually and emotionally) because of his lack of concern for what he is doing. So it becomes very easy for anyone to push his buttons.

Let’s bring the topic to a shallower region of the emotional whirlpool; the stress of physical appearance.  Yes, men are “stressed” by imperfections in their physical structure. Women do feel this stress too, just more openly than men. Here’s the cold, hard truth. Unlike women, men do not have significantly visible physical traits that draw attention of their female counterparts sexually. Women have breasts. This is an open physical attribute that is associated with sexual excitement for men. I don’t mean open as “free for all” but as in “clearly visible”. They have curves. Men don’t have a single physical attribute that would make them attractive. For a man to be attractive he would have to be appealing entirely. A man with a big chest alone cannot pull it off. So men have to do what they know to do best, hunt. They start a race to obtain a specific goal; the more attractive woman. Please do not read this as a mockery of female form or an insult to the less attractive women (you exist, I’m a less attractive male and if I exist you exist). This has nothing to do with emotional satisfaction. This is purely physical and primal. Back when we used to hunt for survival (the caveman days) it was always the physically stronger, more aggressive male that was the preferred choice for females as a mate. With time came technology and culture and society and the significance on physical strength became less important. It is still, I believe, a major factor in basic attraction for women. So here’s the trick. The more a man lacks physically superior traits such as good hair, sharp facial features, height, muscular build etc. the more he attempts to cover up for it. This is where the stress kicks in. Trying to beat another male who is physically superior to you is difficult. It is hard to draw focus from such a man and point it towards yourself. Women pay lesser attention to the short, bald man than they do to the tall, dark and handsome category (unless they have a kink). Stress, born out of competition in the way we look. This stress leads to low-confidence in men. They tend to stay away from people (not like introverts; that’s a whole other story) out of fear of judgment. This is a minor stress of course because eventually every man “gets” the girl.

Now finally, we reach the stress due to women-issues. Everyone reading this knows about it. Women can be a pain. This pain is enjoyable and it’s what makes a man a man. To a man, women are expected (feminists are probably booing right now) to be an emotional pillar on which we can lean on. This is the male perception of a woman. If anyone has bothered to notice, all the issues faced by men in the above four scenarios are solvable by simple calculative measures with a precise thought process, in other words easy. The stress is heavier but assessing and handling the situation is easier. In this case there is a huge problem. Men. Have. To. Talk. This is utterly unacceptable, ludicrous to the male senses. Talk? It’s the worst possible enemy of man. We never had the time to indulge in emotional dilemmas. We were always given an agenda and told to mold ourselves based on aspirations and obligations; not feelings. We most probably never thought that such a discussion was ever possible. We didn’t know what magic felt like. This is why, even though this stress burdens our daily routine lesser than other forms, we still feel it is way too big to handle. Most issues that men face with women are related to communication. Understand that this is a two way road. Women don’t necessarily (in most cases) lay the cards out on the table; they have a very indirect approach to communication. They, more often than not, spiral out of control (male perspective) making it very unclear the issue at hand. Let’s consider a case where a woman and a man are having the exact same problem. When a woman explains it, it will reflect a more emotional aspect of the issue at hand. At this point it is confusing to the man what the issue is and whether she wants it fixed. Most articles you read will say “sometimes she just needs you to listen”. The point is when a man listens to a problem he’s already creating various (sometimes dubious) solutions in his head. He finds it hard to comprehend that if there is a problem, there is not necessarily a need to fix it. Now, when a man explains the same situation, the emotion involved is pretty low. Even if emotion is involved it will be very cryptic. As I mentioned earlier men expect women to be the emotional pillar in any relationship and hence he finds no need to explain the emotional consequences and continues with the problem at hand as it is (plainly, it sounds boring to the woman). But, the difference is that if he has explained a scenario to a woman he is expecting a solution, which is rarely what he gets. Instead he gets how to cope with the situation. This is not what he is looking for. It’s really clear from all this that all it takes for a man and a woman to get along is essentially good communication right? Wrong. The secret, I feel, to a good relationship is to let the man be a man, let him solve problems or attempt to solve them at least. In that effort he is displaying a very strong emotion; concern. To men, the feeling of “love” is very confusing and involves too many variables. Like a tough math problem. What does a man do? Simplify the equation. He takes a select few emotions that weigh significantly more as compared to others as far as love is concerned; most likely concern, empathy, sympathy. The other smaller emotions related to texting randomly at any point or the whole “I miss you” sequence; he fails to understand how this even makes an impact. This is an example of course. Basically take every emotion that sums up to love and filter everything but the most significant ones (depends on the man and the woman). A woman however, incorporates all the emotions that sum up to love and feels if if she isn’t displaying every one of them, even minutely, then she’s not working hard enough on their relationship. So now obviously from her point of view the man isn’t delivering the same effort. Another simple example would be with children. Women have some crazy way of remembering the child’s favorite color and what flavor of ice cream they like. Men on the other hand don’t notice intricate details such as this. The see the overall picture and keep only the significant details in account (respect towards elders, friend circle, grade sheets etc.). A woman takes these into account as well but does not give any preference to which is more important. To her, if favorite flavor of ice cream and respect towards elders could be weighed on a scale, they would weigh approximately the same. Another simple thing of how complicated communication with a woman can be is; even though all other forms of stress generally damage male behavior more drastically than the stress because of women, it took longer to explain this.

There are a lot more factors that cumulate to stress in a man’s life. But, I’m a man so I’m filtering out what majorly affects the male psyche and blaming the more minor impacts to individual thought process or feelings.
So to sum up “stress” factors in the male life cycle, there are essentially five:
1.     The Family Stress
2.    The Job Security Stress
3.    The Job Stress
4.    The Physical Attribute Stress (The Primal Stress)
5.    The Woman Stress
We will dwell on how men would generally react or handle these different forms of stress in their day to day life. For now let’s see how a man would usually handle any given stress situation (or issue) regardless of its type. [Note, this theory does not apply to stress from women]

Let’s take a hypothetical man Abe. Abe is a regular man, who is satisfied with his job (not entirely but enough). He is also a family man. People in the community have nothing much to say about him, meaning either he’s reserved or is basically talentless. He lives an average life, the kind of life where you really have no complaints and are in general “cool with life”. There’s a catch though. Hypothetical man Abe has a problem; every time he faces an adverse situation (as life usually throws at you) he downs a bottle of cold beer. Hypothetical man Abe lives in a hypothetical society where there are few problems that people face, so he isn’t a running-mad alcoholic.

On a good Monday morning (hypothetical society), birds chirping, sun blazing, kids running Abe gets ready for work. His dear wife prepares the breakfast (feminists booing again, but I have nothing against working women. This is purely theory). His daughter is ready for school with a beaming smile on her face that could light the city of Mumbai. He sets off in his electric hybrid car, considered cool where he’s from, and reaches that same beautiful office, with the same beautiful desk and that awesome computer sitting and waiting for him to just turn it on. Oh, dear Abe was having the perfect day until his boss calls him, rather somber his voice was. Abe was a non-complex hypothetical being so he went dashing at the call of his beloved boss, ignoring the dark tone. A man so eager to report to duty, Napoleon would bow. His boss looked at him, head cocked to one side and told him the truth (that’s what hypothetical people do), that he wasn’t performing up to the standard expected and he was being passed for promotion. Alas, that beautiful Monday morning just turned blue for our hypothetical friend. He skulked as he walked back morose to his desk, hopelessly working like a doomed manic. In our world they would have some complicated psychological concept for his situation but in theirs they called it “being upset”.

The nine hours of work seemed like twenty and the heart felt heavy for Mr. Abe. What was he going to tell his wife, his dear wife, who cooks that awesome meal that jazzes him up every morning? He would never be able to afford the new toaster oven she wanted (again with the feminists booing!), without risking his daughters education. Our lovable hypothetical protagonist was placed in a hypothetical adverse situation. We, being observers from a universe far off playing God to these simple minded people, know for a fact that Abe would now douse his problem in a bottle of beer; a nice cold beer. So Abe rides home, dejected, in his cool car and walks in silently. His dear wife runs beaming toward him with a nice glass of orange juice and some biscuits, eager to hear interesting tales of Abe’s day at work. He looked aloof and distant walking past his wife as if he hadn’t noticed her. The not-so-young woman stood perplexed, in fact she stood so still the orange juice wasn’t even rippling in the glass. Five minutes after, just as silently as he walked in, he walked out carrying with him a few cents for a pint of fine Belgian beer. 

Abe reached the bar and sat at his usual table. Abe wasn’t a frequent customer but he had a usual table. [Folks, let me explain something about the special beer that Abe drinks. Firstly it’s always Belgian. The size of the pint is however not standard. Depending on dear Abe’s mood (level of upset) the size of the bottle varies. The more upset he is the bigger the bottle] Today, as we are playing God to Abe’s life, let’s asses his “level of upset” as six on a scale of ten. The waitress, knowing Abe, assessed his “level of upset” as bartenders there do and gave him his six/ten Belgian beer pint. Abe sat slowly sipping and savoring the taste of sweet Belgian roll down his throat. Oh but he twist my friends is that the bottle never got empty. As he doused the beer down, the bottle filled up with black, thick smog. This smog represents his “upset”. Once Abe had finished his six/ten Belgian beer, he was back to classic Abe; a swing in his step, a new hope for tomorrow. But, as is routine the bottle must be placed on the “line of upset”. Owing to small population of this hypothetical place, every citizen had what is called a “line of upset”. It is a chronological arrangement of every beer that every person has had when upset. So Abe went and placed the bottle precisely where it should be placed on his “line of upset”. He then looked up and was shocked to see at least a dozen other bottles varying in sizes, all staring back at him thick black smog inside. The very image was scary for Abe. What does a scared man do? He backs away. Abe inched backward slowly, gazing constantly at the bottles. He relaxed as the distance increased. Of course the bottles were still there but they looked minuscule from this far so how could they affect him?

That, my dear audience, is what we men do. Let me explain. To very simply put it we don’t solve our problems we distance ourselves from it. We look at it once it’s away and it’s small, minuscule and powerless. But, it still exists. The problem is still very real. So for all those who think just because we men like to solve problems, we solve our own, please stop. Here is the essential truth. We don’t. We refuse to confront it and make it look so small that it sets in the back of our head slowly destroying our cells just like alcohol (on excessive intake). We indulge in social activities or vices to distance ourselves from the problems of our daily lives. The key to “Why?” is because every problem requires some sort of emotional input. We fail to assess this and leave the problem to settle at the back of our minds. Understand that this is not true with every problem, but with most significant problems. Like Abe getting passed for promotion. It is a big problem. Rather than talking to his boss (most men may make one attempt at a five minute conversation) he would prefer to accept it and sit back. This is why I said stress due to women is not the biggest problem men face. These small instances where men choose to ignore their problems lead to bigger psychological problems, like depression, anger issues, emotional disconnection, addictions etc.

Let it be clear that the above description is a generic approach to solving a problem to a man. A similar approach can also be used when dealing with people. Here, let me explain both positive and negative impacts. Consider the case where two men are friends during college but they lose touch for over twenty years. When they meet after this long a period they revert back to twenty years ago. Simply put the man rolls back every major change he made in his life, essentially turns into a younger form of himself and reconnects. It’s simple really, when the two friends lost connection is where the beer bottle is placed. When they meet again, the man must essentially go back twenty years in time to pick up the beer bottle and continue. The depth of this philosophy must be understood to completely understand men. I repeat; men progress as individuals. That is how they have been designed. There is no collective maturity. No matter what path these two friends have taken in their lives, when they finally meet they will essentially behave as the same losers they were back when they were friends. I call this a “Mental Time Travel” phenomenon. Men have the unique ability to put a full stop at a particular point and continue from there. You’ll often find (I think) that when an “old friend” comes into a man’s life his character changes (for better or worse) because he reverts and continues from where the friendship stopped. The rate at which the change is happening depicts how close the two were. So the wife of a man who is about to meet his “old navy buddy” is in some deep trouble. The beauty is that the man doesn’t even realize he is changing. It can be understood that that was essentially him and the way he is behaving now would have been the way he would have behaved had the two remained friends; the longer the period of distance, the more dangerous the re-association. A college drunk, turned sober is very likely to get drunk with his college buddy at a twenty year class reunion. It is the process of rekindling a romance. Conversely if two men had a bad fall out twenty years back (left unresolved) there is a very high chance that if the two meet again neither will display the maturity that they have developed over the years and a very prominent tension will fill the air. The same applies to his past relationships. A woman from a man’s past would have changed drastically and will not revert as men do when meeting after prolonged absence but he will instantly revert to that stage in his life when he met her and unknowingly start to show undue affection. This happens. Again, I must emphasize that women are expected to be the emotional pillar for men. This does not mean teaching them to cope with situations but instead to teach them to solve it. Break those variant sized bottles of beer that they have preserved at a distance. Only a woman can reach that deep into a man where she can make him expel pent up emotion. Warning! No matter how much a man says “I’m over her” the risk of reverting always exists and is a very real possibility. Yes, definitely there are men who are capable of emotional control, letting the bottle stand where it belongs. But, many men would love to pick up an old stale bottle of beer and place it in the now.

This has been a broad classification of the serious issues men face and the generic way in which they deal with it. Following this we will see how two different personalities of men, introverts and extroverts (courtesy Susan Cain), deal with each specific criteria of stress.

 Before moving that let’s first take a look at introversion/extroversion in men generally. No one is completely introverted or completely extroverted. Every introvert does need some social stimulation and every extrovert does need “time-off”.  Since we’re primarily looking at issues, let’s view the general differences in the way these two very broad categories of men would assess and react at gun-point.

Introverts by nature are quiet, not shy. They can be very vociferous when the situation demands it. In adversity they prefer to be in a “traffic free” area. This is true for any situation, be it positive or negative. They always prefer making a calculated decision as compared to an “on the fly” process. More often than not their action is inaction. At the end of the day we must act or make a physical plus mental effort to solve, attempt to solve or distance ourselves from any given scenario. In the case of an introvert his action is thinking. Hence, his action is inaction. Creating a train of thought and rearranging the carriages to find an optimal solution that is viable both socially, technically, financially etc. This is tedious (very much so, personal experience) and time consuming. While most of society (at least Western society, Eastern cultures have always preferred introversion. Buddhism is an enormous example) is under the assumption that introverts are being nonchalant, they are almost always wrong. The introvert male (its true for all introverts, no matter the gender) is displaying lower levels of emotion only because of his heightened cerebral activity which impairs him expression-wise. Often you’ll find a far-away gaze in their eyes, whenever you confront them with an issue. They’re going inward to analyze the situation. The outcome of this analysis could be a beautifully structured lie, which he had been practicing in his sub-conscious for weeks in anticipation of the confrontation, or could be such a cold truth it will send shivers down your spine. Note one thing though, any time an introvert gives an immediate answer, it’s only because he’s been thinking about it a lot. He has scripted every possible question and his self-justified answer for each of those questions. In essence he creates a sizable question bank with solutions based on his logic, in his head. Also, a good thing to know would be that introverted men (at least the ones I know - hence the generalization) lean towards a state organized mess. I am not sure if this is the case with introverted women because my general observation is that women prefer neatness (organized or unorganized). How does this help? Well, the degree of his organized mess can give you some clue as to the depth or volume of his thoughts. It’s simple really, thoughts are organized, but they’re scattered. Different parts of the brain pick up different aspects of any given thought and yet the thoughts pouring out are in relation to a single problem/situation. Thoughts are organized but scattered. As an introvert is most comfortable in his mind, he will set his surroundings to match the thought-map of his mind. Two aspects of thought come up here, depth and volume. Depth of thought is how far you can understand a specific subject matter. These introverts work on, what I like to call, the “break down method”. Basically they will take any observation or issue and break it into smaller parts and analyze each smaller part before moving down one more level. In essence, he creates a decision tree by which he can choose the right/optimal set of moves to make in order to correct a situation. This kind of introvert will be organized but immensely messy. Here’s why, as mentioned they break a problem and design an optimal solution. So a simple task like picking up your pen before going to your desk, will involve a series of possibilities. He’ll arrange the pen in such a way that it is in the path to his desk there by making it easy for him to process the task, whereas keeping the pen on the table may be too trivial. Albert Einstein (I think) cut open two holes, one large and one small, at the bottom of his door; the large door being for the full grown cat and the small one for the kitten. The man who proved E = mc2 didn’t consider the logic that the smaller kitten could fit through the large hole made for the fully grown cat. While most people are sniggering at his ignorance, no one probably took the time to calculate the number of times the kitten used the smaller door in comparison to the larger one. My point here is that the second hole was unnecessary yes, but was it ineffective? - An organized immense mess. Now, volume of thought; this man is highly organized but not too much of a mess. The voluminous thinker collects data. To analyze a situation he is more likely to use a simile than to create an entire new solution on his own. Even if he does create a new solution, it will be based on a series of references and logical inferences from those references. So his thoughts are highly central, clear-cut and directional. So everything that he has must have some kind of specific order otherwise it becomes confusing. This is the introvert that will chronologically arrange the books on the shelf (in order of  when he read it) providing easy access. He does not form a decision tree like the deep thinker because he does not ponder on the smaller details of any given problem, but enjoys a holistic knowledge on the topic. His mind is more like an enormous library (at least the mind of an intellectual voluminous thinker). The kink is in the way the books are ordered. The order from outside will seem extremely random but ask him to pick a specific book off the shelf and he would do so without looking at the shelf. Yes, this explanation makes introvert’s look like philosophical scientists with a real depth to character and personality. Not entirely true, though the process is complex to explain introverts can range anywhere between asshole to God-like brilliant; basically your entire human range. However, every introvert (depending on level of introversion) will approach problems either through depth or volume in thought. A combination of the two is rare but they definitely exist.

Extroverts are a lot less tricky to analyze but, the catch is they are completely unpredictable. An introvert is organized and messy. An extrovert is neither of these. This is the man of action. When faced with adversity he wishes (courage is indifferent to introversion/extroversion) to attack it head on and stand on top of the hill hoisting his flag in victory. He basks in the glory and is well admired. Unlike introverts there is no depth or volume associated with the thoughts of an extrovert in the face of danger. He is a man of instinct and intuition. He always prefers an “on the fly” move over the calculated measure. It gives him thrill. This is what an extrovert seeks, thrill. Though thrill is subjective, for an introvert his thoughts are his thrill, I’m aiming to explain the physical and visible thrill. Thrill that pumps adrenaline. They love disorder. These are free-spirited people who make everyone laugh and make an impressive number of friends in a short period of time. Unlike the introvert who will reach out for a helping hand only is he has reached the sleep-deprived state or is simply lazy to do the calculating himself, the extrovert is more than happy to indulge in social activity to make himself feel better; as Susan Cain said; the great group-think. He is happy to find a viable solution by sharing his burden with everyone. Yes, it is known that extroverts can be very deep people and are less trusting with their personal emotional identities than introverts but they share the burden without giving the juicy details. Here is where the extroverts are completely different from introverts; they need things to be explicit. They do not enjoy nor understand the finer details, the writing between the lines. They have no patience for it. If the cards are out on the table they can create quick solutions which are most probably temporary and very role-specific. Let me explain, an introvert (lost in joy and thought) is going to think of a general solution which will work at different percentages for different people. This is because he is observant. Again I am talking in generic terms. There can be observant extroverts but extroverts in general are self-absorbed. They like the feeling of control and enjoy “basking in glory”. To them every mild achievement is something enormous because they do not compare themselves with the general populous; this can be a positive thing except in the case that involves a competitor. As there isn’t much detail in the thought framework of extroverts it is simpler to explain a generic way that extroverts will handle a situation. When faced with an issue, first and foremost they assess the situation by looking only at the cards on the table. They do not crave any kind of deep knowledge. They just want this done with. Once they read the explicit cards they pill a Hollywood and “do what they do best” which is mostly talk their way out of it, switch subject of discussion or confuse the other parties. This is in case of negative issues only. Positive issues (don’t have an example but am sure such a thing exists) only boost their self-esteem and they enjoy sharing their achievement with the rest of their world. This is actually a beautiful complement to the introvert character.  Understand that two extroverts can become exceedingly close friends and know very little about each other. They do not concern themselves with knowledge of each other. Two introverts can become brothers in arms but only over a period of deep, stimulating conversations. They need depth, they need to see and analyze everything. An extrovert and introvert can end up being the perfect combination. An introvert is not afraid of pointing out the truth about someone else; criticism is a positive trait for them because where would progress be without criticism? Extroverts are more open to eating insults and critical remarks because of a heightened self-image. So essentially an introvert can help an extrovert in personal matters and an extrovert can help introverts in social matters (the ideal wing man).

[NOTE: I am not very clear on the nature of extroverts and that’s why there isn’t and probably won’t be as much detail into their outlook.]
For the sake of simplicity, let’s summarize
Introverts:
1.     They prefer solitude.
2.    They tend to form solutions from observations and speculation and hence are able to produce a more generalized solution to even personal level problems.
3.    They have deep/voluminous thought process.
Extroverts:
1.     They enjoy groups/social atmosphere.
2.    They form solutions which are self-specific. The solutions they derive will usually be explained as, “You know what I did was…<content>”.
3.    They require explicit information in order to come up with a functional solution. In other words a very surface thought process.


Now, finally we can come to how these two broad categories of male individuals behave under stress.
            There is no particular, universal or conventional example which we can take in order to explain the differences between the two ideals. So I’m going to go with random examples and explain, to the best of my knowledge, how they would ideally react. This can be expanded and based on observations collected into a generic form by other people. It’s not my job.

The Family Stress:

Introverts:
            Firstly, it is imperative to observe that life with an introvert is difficult only in the initial stages after which it becomes very easy because his quirks become predictable with a dash of variety. After a prolonged exposure such as in marriage you’ll find yourself saying, “I knew it…” every time he attempts to surprise you. Surprisingly, this does not put him off as from his perspective you saying “I knew it…” is a godsend sign that you have finally understood his complex thought process and even more multifarious emotional process.        

Now let us ponder on the meaning of “family” from the perspective of an introvert. He doesn’t necessarily see family as a threat to his independence; considering that he was never a social person and was always independent despite any kind of social pressure this is understandable. He sees family as more of a responsibility. It is a responsibility he has carefully scanned and inspected before sitting down and making a plan. The plan will involve two general phases; phase one is before marriage and phase two is after marriage. Contrary to popular belief the introvert male is not “afraid” of commitment; it comes easily to him in fact; through sudden deep conversations which may amaze the woman at any point during the course of their friendship. It’s often the partners’ perception of his nonchalant and near expressionless behavior that creates doubt. The day you came into his life he has already set a plan in motion and is very serious about making it work.

Let’s take a random example where an extrovert woman is married to an introvert male and have two children a boy and a girl. The boy is extroverted in nature while the girl is introverted. It will be very evident that the man will have a unique connection with the father and he will respond very smoothly to this unique connection. Understand he is not showing preference, when it comes to who deserves the chocolate he will make a very impartial judgment and the introverted daughter will not have a problem with this and will grow up to incorporate impartial justice whenever she needs to.

One of the major problems that this introverted man will face is the dejection his son feels. His son being an extrovert will always attempt to make his daddy proud. This child need not do so but it is his nature. The introverted father is difficult to fool with cute smiles and unnecessary tantrums. He has a code. He understands the responsibility at a deeper level and is not about to make any amendment to his code in life because a baby cries for a chocolate bar he said no to (although sometimes he makes an exception or two). The extrovert boy craves attention which the father doesn’t provide, not because of any form of reluctance but it is not in his nature to do the same. He enjoys watching his son move around and pick up objects. The curiosity of his child will excite his senses and it is when he takes the maximum notice of the extroverted child. So the child continues to prick his every curiosity as he grows up blaming his father for showing lack of interest. How would this introverted man handle this scenario? He simply won’t. Like I said, he has a strong sense of responsibility and will deliver impartial justice. His mind works better than his “heart”. So come that day when the son finally blames the dad for all his faults you’re more likely to hear an answer along the lines, “Take responsibility for your actions. Blame me, that’s ok, but remember that you had a choice and will continue to have certain choices where you would do better by making the right choice” regardless of the fact that he has never explicitly (necessity for extroverts) thought the child what the right choice means. This man does have one advantage, an extroverted wife. She will be the backbone in the relationship between the father and son when the start to take different paths. No matter what though, daddy will go running when his boy calls out for help; responsibility. The wife’s role in this bond is integral, she must constantly remind her husband to pay more attention to the boy and she must constantly tell the boy, on behalf of her introverted (idiotic) husband, that “Daddy is proud of you”. Obviously now you would have guessed that the wife will generate certain issues pertaining to his “partiality”. This angers him more, because he has a strict code which involves zero tolerance for partiality and here, his wife, is “accusing” him of abandonment and being inconsiderate. How would he handle this? Over a period of time he will understand the necessity of explanation. He will verbally communicate and list out everything that he has observed and what he has planned for the boy. Why didn’t he do this earlier, why wait for the situation to spiral nearly out of control? That is the way he likes it, organized and messy.


Extroverts:
            Extroverts have a very different concept of family all together. To an extrovert male, who is a man of action, he does not see family as a responsibility, at least not in entirety. He believes in spontaneity and his nature is very unpredictable. The family will always look colorful from the outside; most of the time they will seem cheery and very approachable and likable. Even the introverts in the family will show some kind of outward nature. Basically, this man can be contagious.

            Sounds perfect doesn't it? What could go wrong with a man who everyone is comfortable with; openly loving, very affectionate and unpredictable? Nothing really, in an ideal world he would be the perfect husband. Understand that extroverts are outward people, they direct everything outside. If this man is prone to depression then most likely he will make life hell for everyone in the household. But, that’s a problem and not a stress factor.

            The kind of stress that this charmer would face will mostly arise from lack of planning. “Enjoy today like it’s your last day” works for only so long. While the introvert will worry about future financials of the family, the extrovert is less likely to do so. This means when he in a financial slump and the family is barely making ends meet, he can end up making things worse by developing serious habits. Suddenly this happy-go-lucky man begins a phase of anti-social extrovert behavior. Like I mentioned earlier the cards need to be out on the table for him. If this man has an introverted wife, most likely they will not be in a financial desert. However, if she is an extrovert, the probability increases by at least two fold.

            Note that there is very low chance of his family disliking him or failing to understand him; for a man that would regularly encourage family-time, group activities and intervention like meetings, appreciation is easy. Sometimes because of over-appreciation he becomes overconfident and may make a stupid move. He is less likely to have a backup job plan because his outward nature brings him so much attention he fails to see the possibility of him losing his job even to bad economy.

            How will he handle all this? He is an extroverted male; he will effectively “do what he does best”. He is a scary practitioner of on-the-fly ideals. If he loses a job, unlike the introvert who may have a backup job possibility of some kind of investment scheme, your extroverted husband may open a hot dog stand (exaggeration). His cheery nature will attract customers. People may even become regulars; like I said, man of action. He hasn't considered his children’s college fund has he? The hot dog stand is doing brilliantly well for the mortgage and the car and the remainder of their basic needs. He hasn't considered the big picture. When confronted with this he would most likely say, “We’ll worry about it when we get there” – and he will worry, but trust him to find a way because he will. That’s part of being a man introverted or extroverted.

The Job security Stress:

            I do not have to separate the introvert from the extrovert her as this is universal in the world of men. Both these men do not have the necessary control over this scenario because it depends so much on economy and the company in itself. However, they do have different approaches to the issue. As I had done, when I explained this stress scenario earlier, I’m going to consider single men who have very few or no responsibilities at all. This is because job security comes under family stress once a man enters wedlock. When an introvert gets into the situation where he is unsure about his job, it will affect him more due to the fact that his endless planning just came crashing down like a demolished building. The probability of him having a job the next day is subject to too many significant variables making it near impossible for him to deduce an outcome based on which his next series of actions will be planned. In this scenario he is most like going to become unorganized and messy as compared to organized and messy earlier. His tendency towards mild addictions will shoot through the roof. Smoking in particular is a high possibility because in order to think one must kill anxiety and smoking does exactly that, numbs the anxiety (personal experience – stress is easier to handle with a cigarette).  An extrovert on the other hand is more suited to this situation; him being a man of action and unpredictability. He may even enjoy the anxiety or in his case adrenaline rush from that stress. This in no way changes his ability to perform. An introvert will most likely under-perform under this situation because he has spent too much thought energy on setting up a backup plan. Effectively in such a scenario, the extrovert will appear less disgruntled and approachable. The introvert will maintain a constant quizzical look and will rarely feel at ease even momentarily. That’s the issue, so now how do they handle it? The introvert will usually attempt to prepare several backup plans based on various probabilities he has deduced over the few days of hard thinking and smooth cigarettes. He will also make smart financial decisions like live in a smaller place, save money on a monthly basis, cook his own food and use the public transport. Physical discomfort is not a problem for this man; the man who lives inside his own head. The extrovert on the other hand may do the complete opposite. He may move into a bigger place, eat exquisite food, blow money on parties and buy a new car. This is his attempt at living a “full life” when he has the chance. Each has its merits and demerits and it is basically a personal life-choice. But, in summary it can be said that the extrovert “suffers” lesser because of this stress with a “silver lining” attitude. For the introvert however, the silver lining can wait; he’s in it for the long haul.

The Job Stress:

            Here again it will be easier to explain without classification. If job security stress was the winning hand for extroverts, then job stress is where introverts hit the jackpot. This stress is not only easy for him it is also good for him. Job stress for introverts will almost always have a positive effect considering he is satisfied with the job, at least a little. Extroverts do not fare as well in this regard. They like happy-go-lucky. The only way an extrovert can enjoy job stress is if he is a hundred percent satisfied with his job; rarely the case. Under these conditions the extrovert is exposed to a hostile work environment. They need an outlet to discuss their problems thorugh casual ranting. The problem is there is no one else who can give him the right impetus to work. He is truly disgruntled. Expressive as they are, they end up creating bad scenarios for themselves; arguments with the boss or colleagues, unnecessary anger pangs at home. The introvert is the kind of man who can leave work at the office, if not entirely then definitely partially. He does not carry that weight everywhere. He has a characteristic way of calming himself in front of avoidable danger or a high-strung situation. It is stress although and there are demerits even for the introvert. It is true that introverts are known to have long spans of concentration but even this limit is limited and generally never covers the entire day of work. They can focus hard on any given issue for a period after which their thought process needs to rejuvenate. How does he rejuvenate? – On his own. In today’s work culture there is very little space for “me time”. This may cause decreased efficiency in your typical introverted employee. This is temporary and can easily be overcome if he can find even a few minutes to be with himself and focus on random objects of no concern. An example for this would be how some employees go for a cigarette break on their own or make an excuse to visit the ATM for no reason and on the way to the ATM he just notes the clothes people are wearing or how cloudy it is. What this does is relax his thought process, like how the RAM in a computer can get overloaded and shut down the system. After all, the human brain is a very complex computer. How would an extrovert handle this kind of stress? Repetitive work routine and equal dosage of pressure everyday weakens a man. He attempts to break routine once in a while, rejuvenating some of his lost enthusiasm that people adore. In both cases it is about “me time”. Essentially to handle work stress better, both personalities need to occasionally if not always come to a place where they are comfortable enough to let off some steam.

The Primal Stress:
            This is slightly interesting. The stress works quite differently in both these personalities.
Introverts:
            In general, for a man who is almost always lost in thought and contemplation, it may seem logical that he would be less concerned if not unconcerned about his physical appearance. This is however, not true. Any sensible introvert knows that physical satisfaction can lead to a more spaced mind because you have one less thing to worry about. They know this but don’t do anything about it. These are (in most cases) idealist people and are very likely to be physically imperfect. Very few introverts have a uniquely attractive physique. This will be the case if the introvert choses to look at physical development as beyond a physical act and appreciates its smaller intricacies like how diet can alter the rate of metabolism. Even then due to constant experimentation he will end up mostly losing focus on the task at hand, building a physique, and discuss his findings as some sort of leisure research activity. Most introverts that people generally meet are either underweight or overweight. This is plainly because he prefers to live in a place of creative imagination and not in the physical reality “normal” people exist in. Ask an introvert to go to the gym and his response will either be, “Yeah I will” with a completely lackadaisical tone or, “Why should I?” to him his body is functioning fine with the four hours of sleep, eating in irregular intervals, binge drinking with buddies and colossal physical strain he has put it through. His body is a vehicle to carry what he considers most important; his mind. Also, these men are not big on the whole social image. They are often eccentric, bordering mental retardation.

The above is in the case of an extremely introvert person, relax some of the description to fill in the space between totally introvert to mildly introvert.

How does he handle it? Simple, there are two ways he can handle it. He either completely justifies to himself that physical fitness and an overall appealing physique is not of primary importance or he incorporates it as part of a daily routine to give a break to his perpetual thinking habit.

Extroverts:
            These are social men. They concern and pride themselves in being appreciated by the general public. They enjoy a vast set of friends and have a better response to crowds. The last thing an extrovert wants to be is insecure, especially about the way he looks. He makes a serious effort to either improve or perfect his physical form. This way he attains the absolute confidence that he needs to be a prominent and dominant social weapon. It is easier for him because this man is not worried as to “How?” or “Why?” when it comes to fitness. He wants results and he is prepared to put in the time. Satisfactory is not enough for this man, he needs above and beyond satisfactory; he needs awesome. It will cement his dominance in social groups; if it doesn't do that he at least made sure that he is never overlooked. Extroverts are those men in sports who play with flair and focus on how good he looks while doing something; the essential difference between James Hayden and Nikki Lauda.

            The extrovert handles this stress by giving it importance and taking it as a challenge. It is another achievement for him.

The Woman Stress:

            Firstly, understand that I am at a slight loss here. I really don’t know exactly how anyone would handle this stress. I do now that there is a bad way and a good way. Lack of personal experience makes it unclear. I’ll try and point out what I observed from the hundreds of stories I've heard though.

            For any man (introvert, extrovert whatever) women are going to be (if not were or are) a form of stress. As confirmed by a friend of mine, women seek emotional satisfaction more than logical satisfaction (if I can call it that). For men everything has an agenda; could be fixing a pipe to launching a rocket. Everything needs a series of steps carefully executed with the proper amount of detail and dedication. For women everything is an event (for lack of a better word). They articulate various instances and issues that they have with the aim that we solely listen. As explained earlier, when we listen we've already asked ourselves “What’s the agenda?” and more often than not the story veers off point and we lose our entire focus. Funny thing is women can somehow switch topics very quickly for brief periods of time. They start talking about one thing; suddenly bring in a series of unrelated questions about how the meal is, come back to what they were initially saying and move on. You can see how confusing it gets. Point is that’s their design, we wouldn't want it any other way otherwise all women would be men and that’s not a nice thought.

            Introverts and extroverts have very distinct ways of handling situations with regard to women. I can think of two separate generic ways introverts handle the stress. One of them is very simple, they listen (they’re very good at it). They just keep listening, so intently that you won’t be able to confirm if he’s breathing. When you question their attention, they usually get angered (in a mild “How dare you?” way) and repeat everything you said in shocking detail. The point here is that introverts are absolutely ok with just listening. They've formed a reliable solution in their heads but they feel no need to share it. They do, if they feel the woman is indirectly asking for a solution but in general they tend to just shut up and smile, sipping their scotch.

            Extroverts hate listening, they hate that attention is taken away from them. These are the people who will most often poke fun, at what you say. They always aim to keep the situation as light as possible. They don’t do well in intense situations.

            An introvert being a good listener is probably good in an intense situation right? This statement is only partly true. It depends on what the woman is looking for. If she wants just a listener who would, at the end of her speech, provide a few words of comfort; then yes an introvert is best suited; if she is looking for a romantic outburst, definitely not. If she is not looking for an objective view with random examples and theoretical philosophy, then also no. This is a thinking man; give him enough room to think and he will make her problem seem so minute and far-off, insignificant even, that the woman will feel devalued; like she is his experimental lab rat. Cure for the itch; be clear with what you want. It doesn't have to be explicitly said; in fact if its cryptic he’ll understand it better.

            What kind of situation would best suit an extrovert? - Since introverts take up compassionate listening and objective judgments. Extroverts, I think, are best suited to entertain. If she is looking for fun and excitement with a lot of variety and possibly a strange new experience; extroverts are the bunch. They enjoy travel, trying new foods, jumping off high towers, parties and best of all her friends will enjoy his company as well. In effect the woman never has to feel awkward and he prefers “not awkward”. Where he fails is intimacy. No not in the bedroom, that has nothing to do with personality. They fail to make deep conversations (unless planned, like on a date) with the woman. They fail to take her out of reality; sweep her off her feet. With an extrovert she’s always grounded, cemented to the reality of the real world; sometimes when her mind needs to travel, extroverts gear up for the drama.

            As I mentioned at the beginning, I repeat, the stress due to women affect the male psyche the least. Then why are there so many adverse reactions to a simple break-up or fall out. Communication flaws make up for most of it. Another part is the emotional requirement of women. They command it. They make us sweat. A man feels he is defined by his work; his friends never care if he cheats, they may say something about it but essentially they don’t care. He isn’t needed to be sentimental. He makes an attempt with a woman, he tries sympathy, he tries empathy, and compassion etc. all those complicated things that logic cannot explain. He learns some of it, around fifteen to twenty percent. Generally the E.Q of a man is very low. This is why the reaction to a fall-out with a woman is adverse. Men can have the I.Q of Albert Einstein but possess the E.Q of a rat. At the first sign of trouble, his I.Q is forming a logical argument and she says something like, “You never care” and he’s thinking of a list of things that proves that he cares (both extroverts and introverts). That’s not what she’s asking for is she? She wants you to show some emotion at that second. She crosses the line intentionally, she hurts you where you feel it, wontedly, because you have simplified the equation but she hasn't. She’s doing “all the work”.

            Here’s how an introvert will handle it. He would bombard her with a series of questions. He won’t give much time for her to answer those questions. Here is his objective. He’s a thinking man so his idea is very basic – “If she expects emotion out of you and you can’t deliver; implicitly show her how out of your comfort zone she has pulled you” – What’s the best way to do that? – Ask her to display logic. Logic so powerful it would shake her very mind to exhaustion. It’s cruel at a level, but it’s a survival tactic. The other thing he would do is, shrug. He probably has other problem like finding the exact word in a crossword or what repair work his car needs. Basically distract or ignore. This is a general case only. People react very differently in these scenarios.

            Now the extrovert; this is probably like a simile to job stress for him. He has to outperform the woman. Maintaining a dominating presence or to better put it, ensure his presence is felt, he will use verbal force. He has to emphasize that she is not the only one with the problem. He has one or many as well. The argument there is not about “comfort zone” because she is people, he is comfortable around people. He’s probably so used to handling rough arguments with such a diverse variety of people he (strangely enough) has a plan. He will use the exact words she wants to hear and calm her down. If there’s one thing that introverts can learn from an extrovert, its argument.


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            That is in totality what I can assess right now, off the top of my graying head, what kinds of stress men face and how they tend to generally manage it.

Have A Good Day!!