On Tue, Apr 19, 2016 at 6:47 AM, Udhay Shankar N <ud...@pobox.com> wrote:

> Thoughts?


I'd written a column on just this a few months ago:
http://indiauncut.com/iublog/article/luck-is-all-around/

Luck is All Around

*This is the seventh installment
<http://www.thehindubusinessline.com/features/blink/talk/luck-is-all-around/article6268195.ece>
of Lighthouse
<http://www.indiauncut.com/iublog/categories/category/lighthouse/>, my
monthly column for BLink
<http://www.thehindubusinessline.com/features/blink/>, a supplement of
the* Hindu
Business Line.

You are lucky to be reading this. When your father ejaculated into your
mother, somewhere between 300 to 500 million spermatozoa were released. One
of them held the blueprint for you. That one sperm cell made it through the
acidic furnace of the vagina, the graveyard for most sperms, and then
outlasted the survivors to somehow become a person. Taking into account the
fact that this was almost certainly not the sole sexual encounter between
your parents at the time, your chances of coming into existence were
probably a few billion to one. Given that your parents were born of similar
odds, and somehow managed to meet and hook up and produce you, it is even
more of a miracle that you exist. Indeed, consider that our specific
species should itself evolve and survive through the ages, on this one out
of trillions of planets (yes, trillions), and you get a true idea of how
remarkable your existence is. Don’t be under the illusion, though, that
this makes you special: everything around you is there despite similar odds
against it. However unlikely it is for a specific something to exist, it is
inevitable that some things will, indeed, be there. Congratulations.

While everything else pales into insignificance beyond the spectacular fact
of our existence, we’re still not satisfied. We spend our days striving for
this or that trivial little thing, and stressing out over small matters
like the maid coming late or the scratch on the car or the tax returns or
the in-laws or getting laid. (We are programmed to worry specifically about
that last one, but we are again uniquely fortunate, among species, to be
able to ignore our programming. Be a rebel, don’t fuck today.) Honestly,
just the fact that we are here should keep us in a constant state of
elation and wonder. But we get tripped up by vanity. We believe that we are
special (as a species and as individuals), and that we possess the
intelligence to make sense of the world, and to rule it. This vanity, in
the cosmic scale of things, is either comic or tragic, depending on how
seriously you take yourself. And me, I find it hard to take myself too
seriously when I’m sitting in a dark room in New Bombay playing cards with
a drunk builder who’s snorting cocaine as he asks me, “*Kya laga liya,
sirjee?*”

Four years ago I became a serious poker player. I did it to make money, but
ended up learning how little I knew about life. The most important thing I
learnt from poker was about the role of luck in the world. Poker is
essentially a game of skill, but only in the long run (which can be longer
than you imagine). In the short run, luck dominates. Every action has
associated probabilities, and you try to manouver your way through a poker
game in such a way that the probabilities are on your side. Keep getting
your money in as a 51% favourite, and in the long run, all the money is
yours. In the short run, you could get hammered again and again and again.
For that reason, poker players are constantly told not to be
‘results-oriented’. As Lord Krishna recommended in the Bhagawad Gita, just
keep doing the right thing, and all will be well. Eventually.

While I am an atheist, the Lord was on to something. In life, too, luck
plays a far bigger role than we realise. And as in poker, the management of
that luck is the key skill we need to learn. Let me turn to sports to
illustrate what I mean. In the last installment of Lighthouse
<http://indiauncut.com/iublog/article/football-chesspoker/>, I had written
about how luck plays a huge role in football, which is also a game of
probabilities. For example, Lionel Messi scores from a direct free kick 1
in 12.5 times. This is the bare number, over a sufficiently significant
sample size of free kicks. And yet, we cheer madly when he curls one in,
and groan and go ‘WTF is he doing’ when he flips one way over – even
though, in the larger scheme of things, *they’re the same shot*. While fans
and even most reporters don’t get this, managers do, working furiously to
maximise the probabilities in their favour. (Every action on a football
field has a probability associated with it.) But fans go by results, and
while those may even out in a league over a season, they never do in
knockout tournaments, much to the bemusement and frustration of the men in
charge. Maradona has won a World Cup, Messi hasn’t, what does that say to
me? Nothing at all. It’s luck.

I was a cricket journalist for a few years, and in retrospect it amazes me
how seriously we took results. Every action on a field has a number
associated with it. A full delivery outside off in the 40th over has X%
chance of reverse-swinging into the batsman, Y% chance of being
cover-driven if it doesn’t, and Z% chance of beating the field when that
happens. Through a day, as the overs go by, thousands of events of
different probabilities intersect as we arrive at a result that is
determined partly by skill and partly by luck. And yet, we cheer the slog
that goes for six and boo the batsman holing out in the deep with a
majestic lofted off-drive. Chance can determine careers: MS Dhoni blundered
by leaving the last over <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbsXTxrmBXc> of
the first T20 World Cup final to Joginder Sharma, but it was hailed as a
masterstroke when it happened to work. After Sharma conceded a wide and a
six, what if Misbah-ul-Haq hadn’t played that one false stroke? Would Dhoni
be Dhoni?

Life, like sport, consists of millions of intersecting events with varying
probabilities, and Luck is a lead character in the drama of every person’s
life. The lesson here is to not sweat what we cannot control, to take
nothing in our lives for granted, and to make each moment count. And also,
to be humble, because humility is the only appropriate response to the
awesome complexity of this world.

Meanwhile, in that dark New Bombay room, my builder friend asks me again, “*Kya
hai bhai? Gutty laga li kya?*” I stare at the table and show no emotion. He
calls. I show him my cards, reflecting on my good fortune, and on billions
and billions of spermatozoa.


-- 
Amit Varma
http://www.indiauncut.com
http://www.twitter.com/amitvarma

Reply via email to