Skip to main content

LIFE AND LIES #50 | The American Prometheus

Many years ago, I was working on a poem. It went on like this:

Had Icarus known
He was going to burn
Would he still have flown
That close to the Sun

I never came around to finishing that poem. And now, I am suddenly reminded of it by none other than an aging RDJ whose words travel across the open space to reach me.

"Amateurs chase the sun and get burned. Power stays in the shadows."

Watching the movie once wasn't enough for me. So I went a second time. Thoughts meandered in my head again making me want to reach for a notebook and a pen and note down everything.

I appreciated/related to the movie on three levels.

First, the rendezvous with an old friend: Science. Protons, Electrons, and Neutrons. Fission and fusion. The universe and the atom. I had barely glimpsed the world of quantum physics through my high school textbooks and random internet searches. Einstein, Neils Bohr, Heisenberg, and many other of the era’s most dazzling scientific minds appeared on the screen one after the other, whose names and contributions to science I had only read in books long long ago. The wondered-eyed kid from a past life stared once again at the sky of infinite possibilities.

Well, all that's in the past. I am a corporate employee now. That brings me to the present, the second level.

For most of the film, Oppenheimer was more of a Project Manager than a man of science. The challenges he faced during the Manhattan Project - I say this with the risk of sounding high and mighty - I could draw parallels with them from my own professional life.

To begin with, when it comes to any project, it is very important to have the correct set of people present in the room and for every person to have his own defined share of contribution. It's not wise to assume yourself to be the smartest person in the room. Field of experience and knowledge varies from person to person. Learn where you can. Impart wisdom where others can't. Agreement/Disagreement should occur only on the merit of the idea that is being proposed not with the person who proposed it. The combined efforts should lead to a well-planned roadmap with milestones that are pivotal to a well-calculated deadline. Even if things look good in theory, UAT (User Acceptance Testing) is very crucial. A project is never an immediate success/failure. It takes days before you can conclude. Your work doesn't get over once the project goes live. It begins then. And there will always be people questioning your planning and decision-making, and how all of it could have been handled better. In such perilous times, always remember: that they have what you didn't: The benefit of hindsight. And you had what they don't: A Deadline.

Last but not least, the focus of the film wasn't the story. It was how it was told. The Internal Turmoil of Oppenheimer - science, politics, romance, family and friends. The myriad of Characters interacting with each other, engaged in a tussle of ideologies and intellectual prowess. This was a Literary fiction that could not fit into any genre. The kind of thing I aspire to write one day.

As Oppenheimer delivers the last line of the film, 'I believe we did' with guilt and utter hopelessness and imagines a dystopian future drowned in a nuclear war, some questions come to my mind.

Ages and ages whence, would digitization/automation be put in the same category as atomic or space exploration?

What would be the digitization/automation equivalent of the moon landing or the Manhattan Project?

Who will be the next Oppenheimer taunted by history then?

As for Icarus,

I can understand his plight
However short
The thrill of the flight
Is matched by none.




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

LIFE AND LIES #17 | Fancy a Haircut

Snip-snip, clip-clip Despite its monotonicity, the sound has a certain ring to it. If I concentrate a bit harder, it almost sounds like a well-placed tune. Or maybe I have been listening to it for too long. Nevertheless, the sound has a sense of power because it remains upbeat in spite of the consistent murmur. Then it pauses. A brief silence follows. The boy at the start of the line scuttles to the most demanded chair in the room, to fill the momentous vacancy. A sense of relief is evident on his face. Following this, a wave ripples throughout the line. Everyone takes a few steps ahead and then comes to a stop. Another down, three more to go , I count. The snapping of scissors resumes. The murmur follows suit. My legs ache. I had jogged all the way to the barbershop, after taking a hasty lunch. There, to my dismay, a long queue was already in place. Patiently, I stood at the end. Awaiting my turn, I had spent the past hours shifting my weight from one leg to other, taking se...

LIFE AND LIES #67 | The Shortest Story

Dedicated to a friend of mine who is no longer in this world. ********************************* A friend had died. Still, the world  Hadn't come to a stop. Perhaps, it should have. Because I gave my presentation Smiling from ear to ear. And later at night, I drank to my fill To honour him. Because life is too fricking short, But at times, Feels too bloody long. If you google 'Shortest Short Story' You'll get the following result: "For sale: Baby shoes, never worn." Popularly attributed to Ernest Hemingway. Ernest, I'm sorry  But I ended up writing  Something similar myself. "Hang in there, my friend. He did." I'm not proud of what I wrote.  It is what it is. "Who is this about," my friend asked after reading my poem. "He was my batchmate in school," I replied. "He committed suicide yesterday by hanging." "Why? What happened?" "Nobody knows. He had cut himself off from everyone." "Was he i...

LIFE AND LIES #77 | The English Teacher

When we are young, the world is full of possibilities. We can do anything, and become anything. We antagonise anyone who even hints at thinking otherwise about us. It's probably why most of us have a story to tell where the villain was a school teacher. Even I do. I don’t remember exactly how I ended up in the Headmaster’s cabin that day. All I remember is that back then I blamed my House Master for it. It wasn’t just me who had bunked the STD XII Pre-Board exams. There were many. But he made a scapegoat out of me. And the moment, I set foot inside the cabin, I received a big slap from the Headmaster. My ears rang. But that wasn’t the worst thing that happened that day. The Headmaster instructed him to call my father. Tell him to come or his son would be rusticated. I wasn’t a notorious student. I was good in my studies and had no disciplinary complaints against me. Had this incident not occurred, I would have completed my schooling in a few months with a clean record. My fat...