A cheque that could sign itself on its 50th birthday

(I am celebrating my 50th birthday today. For the day, I am celebrating momentum more than the structure. If you are missing the context somewhere while reading the post, the context is right at the end in the post. Thank you for starting reading the post.)

Human intelligence is so overrated when it involves only humans.

Imagine a cheque that could sign itself. Or a shoelace that could tie itself—the loop and the knot. The absence of human intelligence is not necessarily artificial intelligence. 

Think of soil that adapts itself for the new season.

Communication habits have been largely formed around humans. Sometimes we need the language of a tomato, or even a speedometer to make sense. For example in 2016, I wrote a letter to my son’s school culture. 

The earlier generation wrote letters. 

The present generation writes status. 

The next generation might be writing prompts only.

Possibly in a new language, where H will not be silent in the word Honest anymore.

In any case, dialogues serve as nutrition, I could feel lycopene inside when I wrote it to my grandmother for raising me like a tomato. Or when I wrote a letter to a leaf. Or when we discussed walks in Chandigarh.

I am 50 today, and I am feeling like that cheque that could sign itself. Blue ink. Or any color ink because it is Holi today—the festival of colors. And sign means sign. Not a doodle and not the sign of a sign but the signature itself.

Let’s take a pause. Can you quickly put your one hand in any of your pockets and see what is there? I am also searching. 

At work, I continue to see that products die because of lack of conversations. Organizations fail because the intersection of design and content failed, or the intersection of engineering and marketing failed. They blame the market when their shoelace ties itself in the shape of a question mark.

Such conversations are like a kangaroo, these carry the reply or comments hidden somewhere inside in the pouch. If you are thinking of a reply or comment, it is autosaved in this post.

Those who know me for a while might have seen dialogues everywhere—in my own conference, my lectures, in the Oxyllects curation.

My son studies science now—he will soon learn the science behind why a water drop always takes the shape of a circle when it falls on the floor. Why not a square. The drop is not flawed—and it is less of the science and more of its nature.

Fittingly, my grandmother was happy to raise me with my flaws.

As I wrote in my Oxyllects, momentum is often more important than structure. My family is my momentum cheque book. Making me feel as if a cheque that could sign itself. The middle four digits of the account number are 4376.

You watch a movie and you dream of making such a movie one day. You read a good book and you aspire to write such a book one day. You see a celebrity and want to have lunch with them one day.

As a cheque, I see the sunlight and want to sign myself. The ink is calling.

Co-signers are welcome. Write to me any time. Sometimes I reply.

—–

References for the context

• The language of a tomato (link)
• The language of speedometer (link)
• The language of leaf (link)
• Letter to a school culture (link)
• Walks in Chandigarh (link)
• Product die (link)
• My conference (link)
• The Oxyllects (link)
• My son (link)
• Searching (link, best seen on desktop)

(Special thanks for Claude for serving as that invisible shoulder.)