Bridges: Building Connections Across Troubled Waters

A Musical Bridge: The Simon & Garfunkel Story

“We’ve made plans to meet again. Will Paul bring his guitar? Who knows. For me, it was about wanting to make amends before it’s too late. It felt like we were back in a wonderful place. As I think about it now, tears are rolling down my cheeks. I can still feel his hug.”

“In the 1970s, the renowned folk-pop duo of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel achieved immense success with their final album, “Bridge over Troubled Water,” which garnered the Grammy Award for Album of the Year in 1971. However, at the pinnacle of their fame, the duo’s partnership dissolved.”

Their friendship, forged in the crucible of their school days in the early 1950s, propelled the duo into the limelight with the release of their debut album in 1964. However, 6 years later, their partnership dissolved after the release of their final album.

Paul Simon candidly acknowledged in his memoir that he was affronted by Art Garfunkel’s foray into acting, while Garfunkel, in turn, resented Simon’s early pursuit of a solo career. Although they occasionally reunited for special performances, it was palpable to both admirers and detractors that the wounds inflicted by their fractured relationship remained profound.

Nevertheless, neither could dispute the undeniable fact that their collaborative efforts yielded creations of exceptional quality and profound significance for their devoted fanbase. And after a span of 54 years, an interview with Art Garfunkel conducted recently unveiled a remarkable revelation: these musical icons have successfully built a bridge over the troubled waters of their relationship, as the opening quotation of the Takshashila Dispatch testifies.”

I received the above wonderfully written note from Takshashila in their newsletter, Takshashila Dispatch, dated November 17, 2024. It was a nice read, and I chose to quote it in its entirety. Although the article’s theme was AI chips, my mind wandered to the bridges we build, burn, and rebuild in the troubled waters of human relationships.

Cinema and Literature: Bridges in Popular Culture

The article triggered memories of a movie I watched as a young boy and a wonderful book I read in my youth.

The movie was The Bridge on the River Kwai. I vaguely remember the storyline: how the Japanese used prisoners of war to build a bridge across the River Kwai for wartime use. In the final scene, the hero, who had helped the Japanese build the bridge, ends up destroying it.

I have a much clearer recollection of Richard Bach’s wonderful book, A Bridge Across Forever. I first heard about Richard Bach in a Six Sigma training session led by Subroto Bagchi at Wipro. He mentioned Jonathan Livingston Seagull, and when I went to buy it at Premier Bookshop on Church Street, Shanbaug recommended A Bridge Across Forever as well. I bought both, and I never regretted it. Shanbaug was no ordinary bookseller; he was a true bibliophile. As long as he ran the Premier Bookshop, I never went to another bookstore.

The Evolution of Bridge Building

Bridges are a great metaphor for relationships. Perhaps human social evolution has much to do with advancements in our collective knowledge and skill in bridge building.

Many ancient civilizations began building bridges across rough terrain, often in crude ways, filling ravines with rocks and wood to cross and reach others. They also learned to bridge rivers and streams. Even today, in the Northeast of India and many other parts of the world, people build bridges using natural bamboo.

The oldest existing bridge still in use by the local population is said to be the Arkadiko Bridge. It’s an arch bridge, built sometime around 1300–1190 BCE.

When our ancestors in Greece learned about the arch, which enables bridges to carry significant tonnage, and when the Romans discovered that mortar made from volcanic rock wouldn’t dissolve in rain and water, it gave a massive boost to the art and science of bridge making.

From bridges to relationships, we humans are social animals. Jiddu Krishnamurti famously said that we know ourselves only in the mirror of relationships. In my view, that includes our relationship with ourselves.

The Cards We’re Dealt: Our Inherited Relationships

Some relationships we don’t choose; they’re the cards we’re dealt by destiny in this round of the game. Our grandparents, parents, siblings, children, and other blood relatives—we can’t choose them. They simply happen to us. Even after the initial set of thirteen cards, the cards we pick from the stockpile are beyond our control. It’s a matter of luck and destiny. We have the option of leaving the game, or we can choose to play this round of life. Some discard cards to the waste pile—haven’t you seen broken relationships among siblings, cousins, children abandoning their parents, parents abandoning their children, and so on? I have my share of broken relationships, too. Others play wisely, creating melds from the available cards and winning the game.

Building Our Own Bridges: Chosen Relationships

Then there are relationships we can choose. We can choose our spouse, friends, neighbours (to an extent), boss, colleagues, and clients (again, to an extent). Of course, we can choose our spiritual guru. In the Zen tradition, it works both ways: a disciple/student must accept the master, and the master must accept the disciple. These choices are informed choices. Though I now know our so-called free will is limited, we can still exercise it to some degree. We can’t blame destiny for this set of cards.

In some of these relationships (among both sets of cards), we don’t need to build bridges. People miraculously walk across water, like Jesus and Peter in the Bible, to reach others. Each of us has a Jesus and a Peter in our lives. I do. My wife, Thara; my children, Manu and Rishi; my best friends for life, Komal Jain and Sheik Iyer, etc.

Walking on Water: Beyond Bridge Building

I have many other great relationships. My mother, Amma; my siblings, Sasi and Sandhya; my Zen master, AMA Samy; my mentors and well-wishers from childhood, Dr. Radhakrishnan and Usha Aunty; the late Dr. Richard McHugh; the late Ranjan Acharya; Brij Sethi; Dan Pacheco; LH Rao; Coacharya co-founder Ram Ramanathan; my teachers, Gopala Thatha (from ALP School to APU); my bosses, from R Bala to the late SMR to Robert Meier; countless colleagues (especially Risk team members from SMR’s team, like Guru and others); even clients; my friends from KTMHS (Manoj, Dr. Dinesen, Satish) to BVB (the Dagar Gang) to Wipro to Mantri Tranquil; some of my cousins and relatives; some of my friends from the coaching community and Bodhi Sangha members; the late Jackie Mu; the Zendog…. But none of these relationships were tested in truly rough waters like those in the previous list of “Jesus and Peter” figures. Here, we were all good to each other throughout, to a great extent.

But those who walked across the water to reach me did so regardless of what I was at that point in time. Or I walked across the water, regardless of what they were at that point in time.

I can share a mild example. A long time ago, we had a friend group called the Tennis Mafia (we still have the group, though some members have moved out of Tranquil). Some of us were good at tennis; some were still learning. I, along with some others had organized a tournament (with prize money, no less). During one match, Sheik and LP@HP were playing against the irrepressible Erode Subbu and his teammate. I was officiating the match. During one incident, a heated argument erupted between Sheik and me. As I stormed off the court, literally fuming, I heard Sheik say, “Vishy, you’re my friend, and you won’t walk away, regardless of what’s happened.” I turned around. That was a kind of walking on water and reaching out. The match continued and ended. Subbu and his teammate won. Sheik and LP@HP lost. The tournament ended. The prize money was awarded. Subbu and his teammate received the purse. I had moved out of Tranquil. Life continued, and so did our friendship. He’s still one of those I reach out to in times of distress. I can count on him, and he can count on me.

I have similar stories about Komal, Thara, Manu, and Rishi, etc. Maybe some other time. At least, I’ll wait for Komal to retire before writing that story.

The Three Levels of Connection

Aristotle, in his epic Nicomachean Ethics, dedicated a whole chapter to friendship. He defined friendship on 3 levels: friendship of utility/transaction, friendship of pleasure or power, and friendship of virtue. It’s when friendship is based on virtue that people start walking on water and reaching out, even across troubled waters, even through fire.

We can classify all other relationships within these 3 levels as well.

One doesn’t need bridges to cross over. Love, gratitude, and compassion are the invisible mathematical arches and mortar that make it possible.

Modern Day Bridges: A Tale of Two Structures

For some other levels of relationships, we may still need to build bridges. While in some very rare cases, we have to burn bridges, too, because we know very well that those on the other shore won’t or can’t walk across the water or fire.

The British built a bridge across the Nellipuzha River at Mannarkkad, which is a gateway to my hometown. It’s still in good condition and strong. A bridge built parallel to it collapsed within a year of construction and had to be rebuilt at a cost to the state.

This contrast serves as a reminder that building strong, lasting bridges—whether literal or metaphorical—requires careful planning, quality materials, and a deep understanding of the forces at play. Just like physical bridges connect locations, our relationships connect us as people. Nurturing those connections with love, understanding, and forgiveness is essential for navigating the often-turbulent waters of life. And sometimes, recognizing when a bridge is beyond repair or leads to a dangerous place, is a crucial act of self-preservation. Ultimately, the choices we make about which bridges to build, maintain, or burn shape the landscape of our lives and the connections we forge along the way.

At Coacharya, we understand the importance of building strong and healthy relationships, both personally and professionally. Our programs are designed to equip you with the skills and insights needed to navigate the complexities of human interaction, foster deeper connections, and build bridges that last. Whether you’re looking to improve your communication skills, enhance your leadership abilities, or simply cultivate more meaningful relationships, Coacharya has something to offer.

Ready to build stronger bridges in your life? Explore our range of programs and discover how Coacharya can help you create lasting connections. Visit our website today to learn more and take the first step towards a more fulfilling and interconnected life.

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