Iss din ka mann nahin karta
Ki woh jage, angdayi le
Ki woh aankhein khole
Aur saapnon se dhoond ko neechode
Ki abhi naiya ne raat ke sagar ko par karna hai
Usmein behti gutthiyon ko suljana hai
In gutthiyon ka jawab bas kuch meel door sagar ki tat par hai
Iss din ka mann nahin karta
Ki woh aankhein khole
Ki gutthiyon ka jawab ab bas mutti bar door hai.
While there are many things worth celebrating of Steve Jobs' life, the greatest gift Steve gave us is a way to design our own lives.
Steve Jobs was known for being a design god who sweated experience, and pixels and, well, everything. "Design," he once said, "is a funny word. Some people think design means how it looks. But, of course, if you dig deeper, it's how it really works. You have to grok what it is all about."
In our society, thinking for ourselves is not highly valued. Our education model was designed with the 19th century more than the 21st century in mind. It reinforces fitting in and suppresses much of the natural creativity we start with. That's how we go from drawing and acting and make-believe to PowerPoint. If we allow creativity at all, it is limited to arts and sports. "Real work" has us looking like a Dilbert character. Between the pressures of our teachers, parents, and ultimately co-workers, we often give up any search for personal meaning as we aim to belong to a tribe. After a while, we may not even believe we have something unique to offer. Rather than figure out what we are each about, far too many of us live within the boxes others define.
But when we define ourselves by what others want, we are trying to kiss a moving butt. To live in a box defined by someone else is to deny our uniqueness. Each of us is standing in a spot no one else occupies. That unique perspective is born of our accumulated experience, perspective, and our vision. When we deny these things, we deny that which only we can bring to the situation, our onlyness. And that is surely not the way the world is made better.
I'm reminded of the ad copy Steve initiated when he returned to Apple:
Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do. (Apple Inc.)
The problem with being a rebel, a misfit, a troublemaker is that the masses will not be cheering you on. Rosa Parks might be a heroine today, but at the time, she lost her job. Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr both had huge dissension within their own communities. It took Jobs years to come up with a turnaround strategy that showed what Apple could do. People forget the years between 1996-2001 where much of the market called him more insane, than insanely great.
But he knew that his journey was to apply what only he could — from his meticulous design methodology, to reimagining computing, to building a different type of company. He realized — and showed us — that our real job is not to conform to what others think. Instead, we need to recognize that our life's goal is to find our own unique way in the world, to find the way that we move from being kiss-ass to being kick-ass.
That is the fundamental gift of Steve Jobs. His insane greatness was to find his own journey and to live his life this way. He didn't worry about being weird; he only wanted to be himself.
I have been in love with Apple products since my first Apple II, which I practically bought with quarters and nickels earned in small increments. I grew up picking apricots on the property where Apple buildings now stand. I worked at Apple during the "dark days," as alumni refer to the years between Steve Jobs' departure and then his much-needed return. He was competitive, sure, but mostly against himself. And that, too, is a lesson for us. It has been an honor to use his products, and it was an honor to work at his company. But the greatest honor has been to emulate what he showed us by his life. That each of us must find our own path. The unmarked path.
So I ask you to join me in honoring Steve's greatness not by trying to be Steve, but by trying to be your greatest self.
We are Birds of the Boundless Sky- ShivMangal Singh Suman
We are birds of the boundless sky
Caged, we cannot sing.
Battered against these golden bars
Break, shall the delicate wing.
We who drink of free flowing waters,
Shall die of hunger and thirst.
Far better is the bitter berry
Than grain in a golden cup.
Within these yellow prison bars
We forget our speed, our flight
And visit only in lucid dreams
Our open swings within trees.
Such were our desires and more to soar
Beyond the boundaries blue
To devour the scarlet rays with beaks
And stars like grains, chew.
To blend with the horizon seamless
These wings shall thrash and throe,
To be one with that same horizon
Or only to be no more.
Pay no heed to the tree-bough
Destroy and wreck my shelter
but if these wings I am to have,
Do not distress these frantic flights.
Raat khamosh kade intzaar kare mera, ki mai kuch kahoon,
Ke wada tha oon se ki aaj guphtagu hogi.
Kuch raaz honge, kuch sikayatein hongi, kuch izhar hoga.
Par na jaane kyun, aaj zubaan khushk si hai.
Din masroof tha.
Uske raftar mein mehfil nahin jami.
Ke woh kabhi sawaloon pe utthe jawab, toh kabhi jawabon pe utthe sawaalon ki pemaish kar sake.
Lehaza, kuch der, kisson ko dibbe mein baand kiya gaya.
Kisse barte gaye, dhakkan kasakta gaya.
Aur phir,
Raat aata hai.
Sabr ka chadar bechata hai, sukoon ka wada karta hai.
Par na jaane kyun, ab zubaan khushk si hai.
Wisps of winter in the air,
An ever so slight fog hangs here and there.
Orbs of yellow streetlights look so much warmer,
The smell of a burnt off cracker around the corner.
There's the sweet whiff of the Gulachin flowers.
Memories of gift boxes arriving home, shining like stars.
Of holidays when children played around without a care.
Of love that hung gingerly in the seasonal air.
And so like an alluring perfume you could never perfectly define,
Are sweet October memories of mine.
- By the Witch
Ik baat honton tak hai jo aayi nahin
Bas ankhon say hai jhaankti
Tumse kabhi, mujhse kabhi
Kuch lafz hain woh maangti
Jinko pehanke honton tak aa jaaye woh
…Aawaaz ki baahon mein baahein daalke ithlaye woh
Lekin jo yeh ik baat hai
Ahsas hi ahsas hai
Khushboo si hai jaise hawa mein tairti
Khushboo jo be-aawaaz hai
Jiska pata tumko bhi hai
Jiski khabar mujhko bhi hai
Duniya se bhi chupta nahin
Yeh jaane kaisa raaz hai
(Transalation)
There is a matter that has almost come to my lips
This is evident in my eyes
Sometimes from you, sometimes from me
They ask for words
To take their shape and come to my lips
And to be embraced by my voice
But this matter
Is a feeling…only a feeling
Floating in air like fragrance
Fragrance becomes its voice
That you know of
That i know of
It’s not hidden from the world
Don’t know what kind of secret is this
- Penned by Javed Akhtar & beautifully recited by Farhan Akhtar
Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho, toh zinda ho tum
Nazar mein khwabon ki bijliyan leke chal rahe ho, toh zinda ho tum
Hawa ke jhokon ke jaise aazad rehna sikho
Tum ek dariya ke jaise lehron mein behna sikho
Har ek lamhe se tum milo khole apni bhaayein
Har ek pal ek naya samha dekhen yeh nigahaein
Jo apni aankhon mein hairaniyan leke chal rahe ho, toh zinda ho tum
Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho, toh zinda ho tum
'Zindagi Na Milegi Doobara'
-Directed by Zoya Akhtar & poems penned by Javed Akhtar
