How to flash through seven places in eighteen days

Somebody once travelled around the world in eighty days. I did something better. I travelled seven places in eighteen days and managed to do some sight-seeing and family-bonding as well as a great deal of joy-sharing as well in those eighteen days. How did I do it?

1. Spent the first day and most of the next morning watching the Konkan coast from the window of a train. Reading why school teachers are like sumo wrestlers, why drug dealers live in their mothers' homes, why crime rates fell in the United States in the nineties, and how exactly, with statistical proof, does parental care affect children. And listening to Incubus alongside.
   
2. Spent the afternoon of the second day lazing idly in the garden of a little house in a tiny village.
   
3. Spent the third day roaming with family on the beaches nearby. And took some beautiful pictures all the way.
   
4. Spent most of the fourth in a six hour bus journey from the village to another little town, escorted by a favourite cousin, and was met by a whole host of cousins, aunts and uncles who hadn't seen me in three years.
   
5. Spent the fifth day in a grand birthday session, the first time I celebrated my birthday with my dad's people. Starting with furious session of midnight callers, a visit to the temple in the morning after bathing (normal for some but astounding for those who know I'm a stubborn atheist. But some things have to be done to please people too, at times), a humongous lunch in which I stuffed myself so full I could have gone the entire month without eating, and a surprise birthday party, which included amongst other wild whacky unexpected things: me wearing a saree for it (again, some things have to be done to please people), a green birthday cake (incidentally, the same colour and flavour I had for my first birthday), two weeks' worth of newspapers shredded to bits as confetti, lollipops and a bright pink squeeze toy as part of the gifts package, me lighting with a cigarette lighter the same candles that I blew out on my cake, and a special photo session with my paternal relatives surrounding me on all sides. Could I have asked for anything more?
6. Spent the sixth day visiting my dad's sisters. Everywhere I go, I'm treated like a little princess.
   
7. Spent the seventh day visiting more relatives. And also found the means to see the college where my dad studied as a youngster of my age.
   
8. Spent the eighth and ninth days in one of the most dynamic cities one could hope to live in. And found out that my cousin sister, who so staunchly disapproved of all notions of falling in love and things of that sort, was seeing someone. And it's a serious relationship with indications of being something really, really long term. The guy is seriously good, too. Unfortunately, he doesn't have a younger brother or cousin who I could hit on. :P
9. Spent the tenth and eleventh days in the house of a gentleman who was earlier a professor in an IIT, and now Professor Emeritus in the university where he served as Principal and Dean for so many years now. And finally understood some aspects of my stickier subjects from him. I happen to have taken the same course of study he did in his college days.
10. Spent the next six days in my grandfather's house. In a suburb in another huge city. And what days those were. Spent the first day sleeping all day and waking up to wish everyone festive greetings for the holiday season.
    
11. Spent the next day with a family of cousins, in their house that cost them ten millions to build, with a garden that gave life to every seed thrown into it, and an approach road that for five kilometers (no less) threatened to shake the traveller off his vehicle, as though traversing that road were a crime of the highest order.
    
12. Spent a lazy day playing games. Then received the terrifying news of the execution of the last step of a regular series of torturous college events. During the reception of which I received the even more horrendous news of the assassination of one of the most powerful leaders of a neighbouring country - a woman who had once been the Premier of her country, against all odds and opposed to all kinds of perverted forces. She fell to their cowardly yet ruthless attack.
    
13. Spent the fourth day roaming around one of the busiest sections of Chennai. A street so full of people it's a crime for a vehicle to be driven there. Wondered yet again, for the umpteenth time, how so many gold and jewelry shops manage to set up such huge mall-sized shopping complexes next door to one another and still maintain business that sustains them. Ditto for the silks, the vessels, the clothes and the sweets. Bought a complete set of newspapers on the way back, which contained altogether four puzzles of a particular game that I favour. And all four puzzles a very hard level! Broke my brains trying to solve them :( Finally managed one out of four.
    
14. Spent the next day with my mother's friend from her own hostel days. A bright dynamic lady who doesn't deserve all the crap that she's going through right now. The best was hearing her and my mom come alive again as though they were young twenty-somethings, yet with all their experience and maturity to back them up and protect them. A close second was hearing all the naughty things my mom did in her younger days, and which she so routinely scolds me for doing myself! And managed to get a second puzzle at night.
    
15. Spent the day packing. And still trying to solve those damned puzzles. I think I overdosed myself. And I discovered one more messaging partner.
    
16. Spent the morning in the flight back home. Solved one more damn puzzle in the morning right before the flight left. Surfed the net the rest of the day at home.
    

And all along I discovered a new joy in travelling and meeting people, especially those who love you, and how important it is to keep up those links. Everyone needs something special to keep their minds occupied, and sometimes, it's just as well that you be the source, rather than the seeker, of that something special.

Dolphins!

Dolphins, to most people, mean this cute little sea creature with a reputation for being friendly. Some countries have dolphin parks, where they house and breed dolphins and show them to people. As a three year old I've been to such a park. They are usually associated with large aquaria or zoos. Of course, this wasn't in India - our country sadly doesn't have such a good system that would take care of wildlife - forget wildlife. We're having a serious problem taking care of people as it is.

Anyway, dolphins are supposed to be real friendly creatures. Cartoons of all kinds abound with episodes where dolphins are seen helping out the protagonists in all kinds of sticky situations. They are supposed to be pretty intelligent creatures too. Though what precisely is meant by their intelligence, I don't know. I mean, how do marine scientists define intelligence when they say these creatures are intelligent? For instance, can they count numbers? Or can they recognize different species of aquatic plants they eat as food and decide which one they like best or better? ("Oh, this is plant X... I don't really like this one. Let's see if there's any of plant Y around..." (Hang on a second. Are they herbivores or carnivores? Gotta check that.)) I haven't read A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe.

Can they distinguish between different people? ("Oh there's Joan. I like her; she's real nice." "Hmmm, looks like Matilda is gonna feed us today.") Can they talk to each other?

For the record, dolphins are mammals, NOT fish. It took me half an hour yesterday to convince a friend of mine. In the end I had to show her Wikipedia's article on dolphins to convince her. You can see it too. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dolphin Nice, easy-to-read article it is. Dolphins are mammals. They give birth to live young, and they have some equivalent of sexual intercourse.

That article had something else about reproduction in dolphins. Quite a few people apparently know this, nevertheless it was something new that I learnt. Apparently dolphins engage in sexual encounters for purposes other than reproduction, and some of these encounters may be homosexual as well. And they may have such encounters with members of other species too, including humans!

So dolphins, with acute eyesight, sharp hearing, advanced sexual practices, keen intelligence and a general attitude of friendliness, represent creatures of goodwill with rational minds and radical behaviour. I love the whole picture.

And it is so befitting. I walk around now with a pair of leaping dolphins made of gold in each ear. :)

Electrical Machines

I hate the subject. Shameful, since it is part of my chosen branch of study (but that's excusable, since I didn't take it up by choice (but still now so excusable, since I did not chuck it and take up something which was ultimately better for me to have done (but never mind now, and I probably should stop this coz this thread is going on too long!))).

At any rate, at least the textbooks are funny sometimes.

Sample this for instance. Excerpts from Electrical Machines by Vandana Singhal and whoever was the other chap who wrote the book with her:

Chapter 5: Introduction to Synchronous Generators
A synchronous machine has a rotor and a stator. (Wow! I didn't know that at all! As though other electrical machines have something different altogether.) The rotor of this machine always moves at synchronous speed. (Isn't that hard to guess now?) It may be a synchronous generator or a synchronous motor. (Amazing! So we can't have a synchronous transformer!) A synchronous generator receives mechanical energy from a prime mover to which it is mechanically coupled and converts it to electrical energy. (I see. So what do other kinds of generators do?)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH! I'm supposed to give a test to determine if I know this crap???? :P

Care For Your Body

There's only so much punishment your body can take. It ain't nice to deprive it of food, sleep, rest, and most important, joy. I've done this for the past seven weeks now, and finally have come to the point where I get to rest. My body has taken it all silently, all the beatings and harsh treatment. I'm sorry I had to be so cruel to myself, but my work, for which I had to endure this is now complete, and the results have compensated for the pain I had to bear.

I'm happy. Nothing pleases me more than to be busy, to be employed usefully, to be part of an activity that produces something creative and/or useful, and to finally taste the sweetness of seeing that work complete and the results out. It offers me a high so potent, I do not feel the need for any external stimulant. I'm simply ebullient with delight.

I've also learnt a lesson from this. It's important to be kind to yourself. To be kind to your own body. Dedication and work all notwithstanding, it's necessary not to overdo it. My body hasn't complained, but I've faced the consequences elsewhere. You can't afford to hurt yourself. You have only yourself and your mind, heart, soul and body, as a constant, as eternally part of yourself. All these self-help and personality development gurus teach you that to be happiest you need to mentally strengthen yourself, and develop strong character. Protect your mind and your heart from the ill intent of others around you. It's equally important to protect your body. You deserve to be able to eat and sleep. You deserve to be able to share and receive affection. You deserve to be able to care for yourself.

If you put pressure on your body, you are already mentally very strong. You don't need to worry about that part. Take a small example. Try combing your own hair the way you do for someone you care about, your brother or sister or partner or anyone. Close your eyes and try to recall a song you like as you're doing this. Think about something good that happened during the day, something good for you. Enjoy the quality of your own hair. When you open your eyes, you'll feel a new kind of care for your own skin, your limbs, your hair, and everything that is a part of you. This care is always there, but you'll feel conscious of it this time round.

No teaching anyone to be Narcissus over here. But without being overly luxury driven or self pampering, it's important to realize the importance of caring for your own self. This is also why suicide is considered a crime, punishable even. Deliberately causing harm to anything that can feel for itself is an offense, even if it be you hurting your own body. It's also why the Sikhs forbid the cutting of body hair. Your hair is also a part of your body, even though it be dead cells. That's being somewhat idealistic perhaps, but the rationale is easy to understand in the context of what we're talking here.

So what's my resolution finally? No more depriving my body of its essential wants, just for the sake of getting some little booklet printed. My body will not hesitate to remind me that it wishes to be treated properly, as lovingly as my heart and mind are cared for.

Razorback

I just gave myself a most precious gift. A bicycle. Yeah I know some people will think I'm being silly, childish or even uncool... but as far as I am concerned it's one of the best things I could possess at the moment.

Weird name. Razorback. What are they trying to convey through the name? It doesn't actually mean anything. A razor. Brings to your mind words like sharp and cutting, meaning to convey the impression of the edge, the edge of something steep. Alright so you have stuff like sharpness and preciseness coming to your mind, but what does that have to do with 'back'? What can 'razorback' convey? The name actually means nothing. But it doesn't matter, because those of us who own one know what we wanted.

The bike itself is damn good. Unisex, so it can be ridden by both guys and gals. Perhaps a little high in the seat, but its dynamics are pretty good. It's strong and durable, comes in great colours, and looks pretty good too. One of the few things that has charmed both men and women simultaneously, though a lot of guys still prefer to go for typical male bikes (which have those high bars in front, from just below the seat to the frame supporting the handlebars.

But it's not just the fact of having an easy mode of personal transport to wherever I wish to go. Cycling on its own is a marvellous way of spending time, either with yourself or with others who think the same. There are people who use bikes less as a form of useful transport and more for recreation. There are always the naysayers who will sniff at the thought of expending energy as a form of enjoyment, but that doesn't matter. If with friends, you've gained a great way of spending what can rightly be termed quality time with them. It's not something random or impersonal or automated. It's natural, intimate, delightful. And if with yourself, you've just gained one of the best ways to relax yourself, exercise your body, refresh your mind, and work out your problems. Nothing works for solving your troubles as well as straining every fibre of your being in the most complete way possible, inducing your mind to work as well. Nothing works in the same way to calm you down and restore presence of mind.

You need something to distract you from your unhappiness. Something, the mere thought of which gives you relief; assurance that things will be normal. For most people this thing turns out to be a relationship or a cigarette. I have neither. The first is unlikely to happen and the second is dangerous to take up, bodily and socially. And it is this vacuum that makes me love my Razorback so much. It is something, that can give me comfort, that I can partake of without feeling guilty or sneaky, that I can openly revel in with joy and pride. I'll be heartbroken if this one too gets stolen, like the last one was.

God bless those unsung heroes, the innovators of the bicycle through the ages.

My Lover

I stand alone. Empty. In surrender; no resistance. Ready. Waiting.

And there my lover comes. He surrounds me. An envelope of alternating warmth and coolness, sending such delicious tingles down my spine, from where the thrill spreads through every fibre of my body, right down to the tips of my fingers. His touch caresses my skin, tickling it gently, exactly where I like it, delectable, sensitive, even caring. Delightful, pleasurable, without feeling guilty.

The air is so clean, fresh, pure, fulfilling even. Everything feels hallowed, blessed, beautiful. Sanctified, almost. The sensation striding through every nerve under my skin makes me feel so protected, so secure, so loved even, as though there is a promise of affection and passion that is unyielding as granite, inflexible as steel, steady as light, everlasting as time. Something that is always mine to count upon as my own. Something that I can be sure will always be mine. The love of this lover of mine.

I feel blown away. Swept away off my feet. I stand tall and straight and confident, and no trouble can destroy me. No sadness can still me, no regrets can besiege me, no words can hurt me. Such a heady potent cocktail of delight, calmness, joy, serenity... and I feel supreme peace.

The love which no living individual may be ever able to bestow upon me, which may never be mine to have from a living person, which it may not even be in the capacity of any living being to give to me - such love is given me by this lover of mine. The promise which no man alive would ever commit to me - such a promise is given by him, every time he touches me. The joy of being ever straight backed, proud and confident - such grace is granted by him, every time he caresses me.

Such is my lover for me. My lover, the wind.

Are You Going To Scarborough Fair?

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
For she/he once was a true love of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without no seam nor needlework,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Which never sprung water nor rain ever fell,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Ask her to do me this courtesy,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And ask for a like favour from me,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have you been to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me from one who lives there,
For she/he once was a true love of mine.

Ask him to find me an acre of land,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Between the salt water and the sea-strand,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

Ask him to plough it with a lamb's horn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And sow it all over with one peppercorn,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

Ask him to reap it with a sickle of leather,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And gather it up with a rope made of heather,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

When he has done and finished his work,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Ask him to come for his cambric shirt,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

If you say that you can't, then I shall reply,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Oh, let me know that at least you will try,
Or you'll never be a true love of mine.

Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
But none more than any heart would ask,
I must know you're a true love of mine.

I love this song. I simply love it. For days now, I have been able to sing nothing else, listen to no other song. This is the full text of one version of the song, though it is considerably shorter in the version sung by Simon and Garfunkel.

But more than the S & G version, I love the instrumental rendition by Lori Pappajohn. On the Celtic harp, accompanied by flute, percussion and violins. Totally amazing... and the best part is, unlike other pieces of music, though it keeps on playing in my mind, having it in the back of my head doesn't irritate me. It keeps me cool, calm and collected at all times.

Cartoon Characters

Entertainment always comes knocking on your doorstep. And it's always waiting to be received. You have to be sharp enough to hear the knock and let it in. That's all.

I've just come back to the place which I call my home at present. I've been here for two years and will be here for two more. And I've just realized that I can't be starved for entertainment in this place. Not if I look for it well enough.

There are the practical sessions. Where each group consists of eight people working together to prove a result. Rather, one person tries to figure out what exactly is going on and how it's supposed to go, another person writes the numbers like the family munimji, while the rest sit around watching the effort and providing much needed comic relief.

There's the prof who takes one of the weightiest subjects that could have been devised for the purpose of self-lobotomy. We think he's got a wig. Don't know for sure, but we can't help feeling so, thanks to that fluffy hair and smooth neck... his neck is smoother than mine! Unless he is in the habit of shaving that area of his body everyday, it just has to be a wig. We need to find a way of finding out. Of course, a little bit of string, a hook and a convenient place to hang them might just work out...

There's one of the most intelligent men I've ever had the fortune to meet, a friend of my father, and father of one of my closest friends. Did you know that if you double the size of a raindrop, the energy with which it hits the ground increases by a power of seven? Yes, seven. And a power of seven, not a factor. It's rare enough to find examples of physical laws in nature which involve powers higher than 3. The law of blackbody radiation is the only well-known examples involving a power of 4. The rest are all pretty detailed and obscure. This particular law is the only one yet known involving a power of 7. The physics behind it is simple and interesting. A gentle perusal of any decently written high school physics textbook will lead you to derive and understand the physics.

There are the young men and women who passed out of college and who still maintain links with us. Though of course they may probably just forget us as time passes. Still the stories of the ones who left their mark remain evergreen. No one is going to forget the young man who went to Spain for a conference, and packed his bag full of Parle G biscuits so that he wouldn't have to eat trash!

And there are the new cartoon characters, who come to 'further our education'. I don't want to spread unkind gossip bordering on slander, but really, I can't help mentioning the female who made a face when she was told the strength of the class for which she had to take roll call. "Number 83 tak call karna padega mujhe? Errrrrrrwwwww!!!"

Randomly On A Train Journey

I hate a dirty train. Especially when my hair is also all messed up, my forehead is grimy, I'm hungry but can't eat because of some weird inexplicable stomach cramp, I'm seeing a lady cuddle her newborn son and change its nappies while I sit wondering and confused, trying to make out if it's laughing or crying, and I'm writing all this with a pencil since my entire stock of good quality fountain pens is buried deep in my luggage between my night suit and my lingerie.

As if that wasn't enough, the only food I have right now is peanuts (literally), which I suspect are giving me cramps in the first place, and the only good I can expect on reaching my destination is roasted and buttered American corn. To top it all I just received a dinner invitation, and I can't go because I won't reach in time for it!

Wow. We just rode onto grassland. Savannah type landscape. At least that's what it looks like, seeing as there isn't a single tree for miles.

There's a pile of work waiting for me when I reach. Vacation ain't over and I'm already saddled with fresh work. To top it all I haven't even done my homework, so it's going to spell trouble for me...

Plus, I need to think up a fresh batch of excuses for not having called up so many people... though that isn't an issue, seeing as I wasn't at liberty to do as I wished to. But I'm gonna have my work cut out for me anyway, softening all those angry people. Each one will have a grievance of his own.

I like Sudoku. It's only recently become some sort of fad, some sort of phenomenon, which is really amusing. The game in question has been in existence for years and ages now, but it's only in the alst two years that 'western civilization' has noticed it. And that's where all the sudden hype is coming from!

And while it's nice timepass, it's really quite a mind numbingly simple game. More complex than Sudoku is Kakuro. Sudoku is simply a play on number patterns. Kakuro involves addition as well, and hence requires more brainwork. More brainwork means more effort and more patience but people don't really care about those nowadays, do they?

Meanwhile, it's back to the 'nuts' for me, and I'm slowly becoming a nut myself...

I still hate dirty trains.

God bless Bugs Bunny.

Carrots wait for no one,
So I'll pick them now.
Before they are eaten
By some snobby cow...!

Birds of One Feather

Picture postcard railway station. And a train two hours late. Not much scope for amusement. It's in places like that that you get to see the weirdest things.

I saw a crow. I couldn't figure out how old or young it was. It would have been completely unremarkable at first sight had it not been for the fact that its neck appeared to have been cut away, leaving only a stub of sinew still keeping its head on its body. After being arrested by such a sight at the first glance, all of us on the station paid a little more attention to it. Apart from such a disastrous neck, its wings seemed to have been ripped badly to pieces, looking on the whole as though it had escaped from the butcher while being chopped up alive or something. Such a feeling of pity came into my heart as I had never felt for years.

It wasn't alone. It couldn't fly so it kept hopping all over the ground, squawking all the while. Overhead on the beams of the roof on the platform were two fully grown healthy crows, also squawking and following its movements. My first thought was that they were looking out for a opportunity to get hold of it and eat it (crows are omnivorous, or at least are thought to be). Later, we all realized that they were actually watching over it and protecting it, from the two stray canines that were roaming around the creature, probably looking for an opportunity to grab an easy meal. They did not attack it though, as if aware of the nasty repercussions that could follow from the sharp beaks of its protectors.

The scene almost made me cry, when I realized what was happening. That the healthy birds were trying to protect their mate, ready to attack if needed. That they were ready to use their muscle, and the dogs on the ground were withholding due to their fear of being attacked by the birds. Quite a different scenario from the usual one of the more ferocious creature playing predator and the weaker one being the prey.

The truth to realize is that what is perceived as weaker is not always so. People can never be underestimated, coz you never know when the sleeping tiger would awake and gobble you up.

Rediscovery Of Reading

I am a student, and I must be as any student is, eager to learn, to reflect upon learning, to derive an opinion of those reflections, and to express that opinion. A beautiful thought always comes unbidden, and it is a crying shame indeed not to be able to record and preserve it somehow.

I am travelling home at the moment, and I have been granted a seat by the window, which is well; since it offer me a chance to observe that which I always miss when I travel this route, since I have alwyas so far passed though at night, when there is too little of illumination to enjoy what the eye may perceive. It just occurs to me that this is a beautiful time at which to be traversing this route.

I am alternately reading and writing, and the tome which submits to my perusal at the moment is a classic, a masterpiece of English literature. I certainly approve the content, the plot of the story, but earlier it was just a story to me, set in very refined language; this time, after a space of four years as I read the lines, I am delighted to rediscover my love and appreciation for good literature and expressive language. A mark of a good book would be that every perusal of the book leaves you with something new to think about; something to set you little grey cells buzzing, a process which certainly leads to intellectual excercise, and more importantly, the blowing away of cobwebs that set in and build up due to an overdose if entertainments that do not essentially require an alert and active mind.

In this reading of my book, I have singled out a battery of words and expressions that I should like to inculcate in my daily vocabulary; I have rediscovered a style of speaking, writing and thinking that has to my mind, expressiveness without sacrificing brevity and clarity; and in examining the characters of the main players in the story, I have been reminded forcefully yet subtly, of those noble qualities and refinements, that I wish to have imbued in my own character.

I am grateful that Providence guided my hand to this book, when I raised my arm to choose. For it is just one more incident leading me to rebirth and rediscovery.

Lucky Me

What is luck?

Different people think of it in different ways. And everyone creates their own definition of luck. Some of these definitions sound so wise, you'd think they'd been spoken by some hotshot religious leaders. But it ain't like that. You can have your own definition of luck, but unless something lucky happens to you, you don't get it.

There is nothing called luck, actually. It is just a concept that the mind of mankind has created, skulking around looking for a solution to some random question of philosophy; a solution that cannot be called false since it does not cross any principle that has yet been established as reasonable true, and while yet lying in the realm of doubt, is comfortable enough that it may be accepted without too much discomfort. Basically anything that happens in such a manner that you wanted or expected or hoped it would happen, is taken as an instance of luck.

Logically, is this justified? Not really. Because almost everything that you do nowadays has your hand in its making, consciously or unconsciously. You get whatever you worked for. And based on your own experience, you know, consciously or subconsciously, how well or badly you performed, and what the outcome of what you did should approximately be. You would thus end up with some expectation, however slight, of the result. Human nature never talks of itself exactly; it's either always self-glorifying or self-deprecating. So when the result comes out better than expected, it's good luck, and if it's worse, then it's bad luck.

Look at it this way, and you'll be able to actually explain all those instances of 'good' luck as very favourable or pleasant logic. And then you'll see that the instances of actual 'luck' are nothing but very nice coincidence. And they will be quite few and rare to find!

But regardless of how rare the coincidence it's fun to see the consequences of it. Like when you have a certain minimum score that you're hoping to get in a test, and it turns out that you just manage to get that minimum score. The luck part of it is that you got the bare minimum you need to scrape through. And as a result, a lot of nice things happen, because life just got a little simpler with that bare minimum score.

Interesting things happen in life. You only need to keep your eyes and ears open. You'll never know what's happening otherwise.

Parallel To A Football Match

I'm watching a football match on TV at the moment. Everyone's asleep. I've never paid football any attention before.

A friend of mine just recommended this match. He seems to be a sports freak - I've only recently started talking to him. I don't know any rules of football, I don't know the playing procedure or the scoring protocol; I've never even kicked a ball before, let alone play football. But I'm still enjoying the match.

I'm on vacation, and I'm pretty bored at the moment. A vacation is supposed to be spent usefully, to take time out and do stuff that you don't normally have time to do, in the course of school, college or work. I'm not doing anything. I feel like such a lowlife, such a cheat. I'm ashamed and that's probably why I haven't called or talked to anyone. The list keeps mounting day by day.

Anyway this match is something different. I'm feeling the urge to write, so I guess this means some of the cobwebs are being blown out of my brain. I wish I had a proper writing table.

Okay, one team just scored. Both teams seem to be quite evenly matched - this team that just scored got it because it was a penalty kick awarded thanks to being fouled by the other team. I get the feeling a lot of goals are scored that way... else the way this game seems to proceed, each team will always get blocked every time they try to score! Even though the goal net is so wide, it doesn't seem to be an easy task to kick the ball in, particularly when you're being cobbled by the other team, and you have a particularly wary goalie facing you!

Anyway game's over, and one team managed to win. God, they're so happy. They have a goal to chase!

Meat!!!

For this I thank the one with whom I've been friends before birth. Sorry girl, for ripping the link off your blog, but believe me, I give you full credit for spreading the cheer!!!

They're made out of meat... by Terry Bisson 

Enjoy!!!

The Last Day in College

It's the last day in college. Of this semester.

For me, of my second year as a college student. There are so many things I've seen, so many things I've heard, and a glimpse, very vague, of the huge amount of stuff yet to come.

There are just a few hours left. Before I leave this city. Before an entire generation of people leaves forever, embarking on a journey each to his own horizon. Only a few hours I have, in which to gain the maximum I can from this generation. There are only four that I really want to know or meet. Three are easy to obtain. It's the thought of the fourth that kills me.

My character has gone through a complete apostasy. It's not visible to most, though. But where it is, people are completely shocked, though they're getting over it now. Not more shocked than myself though. It's amazing how someone can change in twelve months.

My thinking, my attitude, my behaviour, my tolerance, the rationality of judgement, the purity of my character, the sweetness of my nature, the generosity of my heart, the clarity of my mind - everything has gone through a sinusoidal shaped curve upon the axis of time. I am quite still what I was, to a great extent, and yet some things have changed, irreversibly, some things have begun, irrevocably, and some things have ended, irrefutably. I have both lost and not lost, gained and not gained.

I didn't have any idea where I was headed. Or where I wanted to be. I still don't. Time's ticking away, and it's so unreal I could just stand still and watch all the colours just swirl and spin by in fast motion, and nobody would ber able to catch me as I fall, and I wouldn't be able to comprehend what's going on around me, even though my mind is completely aware of what's taking place.

I'm actually writing all this, and will type it into the blog later. But at the moment I just realize: I have really nice handwriting.

People are amazing. And the way you can get to meet and know people, interact with them, learn from them, teach them, talk to them, argue with them, make acquaintances, make friends; it's all just so amazing. I've come to meet and know three times more people in second year than I did in first year, which is natural and logical, and yet pleasing to know.

So many events have shaped the course of thought, as it meanders over the plains of time, to join the ocean of the past.

I've had so many firsts this year. So many new things as well. So much has happened to me, both good and bad. Everything has served to teach me a lesson. Somebody once told me, nature teaches you a hundred lessons everyday, of which perhaps only two get into your head. Doesn't matter, because the remaining will continue to be taught, until they get drilled into you.

How right he was.

2.5 Diggers? I Say It's Possible!

Textbooks can say a lot of stupid things as well, besides the sensible stuff. Of course, very few textbooks actually go to the extent of giving wrong stuff (unless they're sponsored by the State Government!), but there are some priceless examples which are technically correct, but just can't be allowed all the same!

Take for example, Organic Chemistry, by P.L. Soni. It lists out the uses of paper:
1) As tissue paper
2) As napkins and toilet paper
3) As gift wrapping paper
4) Envelopes and packaging
5) Cardboard
6) Sandpaper
7) Heat insulation
8) Writing and printing books
9) Printing newspapers
And yes, they are printed more or less in this order!

More examples to follow as the process of discovery continues. Watch this space.

The Story of A Calculator

Hi. I'm just an ordinary calculator, belonging to an ordinary person and leading the ordinary life that most calculators do. I help my young lady with the stupid calculations that she doesn't have the brains to do herself and get her through her engineering exams.

People think life as a calculator can be boring but that's not true. Apart from getting to hear all the abuse and praise (yes, there is praise too!) that students heap upon their courses and teachers, I also get to see firsthand what they go through, and why they go through it. And apart from dry academic stuff, I'm also a firsthand witness to how young students behave in general, with their friends, with acquaintances and with strangers. And most of all with themselves.

I'm a dumb witness so I get to see without any pretense. Without these kids trying to be fake or trying to hide how they feel. People can be so nasty at times and so nice at others. And some people can be really so nasty and really so nice.

I got separated from my lady two days before her exams. Careless woman just left me in the classroom one day while trying to complete some class report, three hours overdue at that, and she had to call for help, and someone else picked me up after that. My lady lost all hope of recovering me, and hunted and hunted, so I heard, and was on the brink of buying another one to replace me. It's her luck that a sequence of nice young cultured gentlemen passed me on, one to another, until I landed up with a young man sitting two benches away from her in the exam hall. And he very graciously returned me to her, and I can tell you there was very sincere gratitude and genuine relief in her eyes. Which was needed, since she has begun to lose hope that there is goodness of heart and mind in this world.

The moral of the story is don't ever lose faith. Faith in what? In the innate niceness of people. It's difficult to believe people can still be good. I could very well have been kept by some unscrupulous young ruffian, or been sold by some member of the domestic staff for a little extra pocket money, or perhaps just been lying around for days in some lost lonely corner, seen by the eyes of none, my life wasted and deprived of the purpose for which I was built... but someone bothered to pick me up, maintain me and restore me to the person to whom I matter the most.

And that's why I also say: WRITE YOUR NAME AND CLASS ON YOUR CAL-C!!!

2.5 Diggers? Not Possible!

Of late, I've been fortunate enough to be reading scientific books, both the general variety and the textbook variety, and I've been reading good books. The most striking quality of these books is the way they have been written, informative enough that they grasp attention, and yet light hearted at the appropriate spots, so that they don't lose that attention. And as for the textbooks, even good textbooks are of two kinds: the kind that just drones on about the subject in a clear, complete, and concise manner, and the kind that does the same thing while ensuring it doesn't get monotonous.

There aren't too many examples I can quote here. I don't have that kind of energy. But I do want to record those few examples. I don't want to lose track of what I've realised. It's really cute when you're reading the thing with a serious mind, and then the author puts in an appropriate line to make you smile. That really allows you to enjoy the whole process of reading the thing.

Sample this for instance. This was taken from "Engineering Electromagnetics" by Hayt and Buck.
"It is philosophically satisfying to have the most general result and to feel that we are able to obtain results for any special case at will. However, such a jump would lead to many frantic cries of help, and not a few drowned students."

Another quote from the same text. "We are faced with a choice of many methods by which to evaluate this component, and we shall use but one method and leave the others as exercises for a quiet Sunday afternoon." (!!!)

And yet again. "Since one coulomb of electric flux is produced by one coulomb of charge, the inner conductor might just as well have been a cube or a brass door key rather than a sphere, and the total induced charge on the outer sphere would still be the same. Going one step further, we could now replace the outer sphere by an empty but completely closed soup can. Q coulombs on the can would produce W = Q line of electric flux and induce -Q coulombs on the tin can.
"If the soup were a perfect insulator, it could even be left in the can, without any difference in the results!"

For those who aren't exactly physics freaks, my apologies. It's amazing, the kind of things you can learn. While dealing with the physics of time, pure mathematicians (theoreticians all of them) have gone through the pain of creating worlds (in theory) where you can travel back in time. The entire story is given in "The River Of Time", by Igor Novikov, a book on quantum principles and how they affect time, for the layman. Quote:
"These worlds are generated by solving systems of equations of general relativity. It appears that the general opinion has been that these solutions have no connection whatsoever with reality, despite being of great interest for studying the structure of the theory itself. Everyone knows from one's acquaintance with school arithmetic that the formulae of a correct theory can give incorrect - 'physically meaningless' - results. It is sufficient to insert inappropriate numbers into the conditions of a problem, for arithmetic to generate an unacceptable result: say, to excavate a hole in the ground of volume 30 cubic metres in 4 days, with each digger capable of digging 3 cubic metres per day, you need... 2.5 diggers. Results of this sort made more than one pupil cry."

Thinking leads to chaos! And how! A brilliant example on how to understand entropy, given in the same book. I loved this one. I quote:

"The heat released as a consequence of 'memorizing' makes the ambient air warmer and thus increases 'chaos' (entropy) of the Universe. It is always larger than the order introduced into the storing device when information is recorded. Stephen Hawking gives the following example. If you learned by heart each word in a book like this, your memory would record about two million bits of information. This is the measure of how much order was created in your brain. However, reading the book, you have transformed at least a thousand calories of ordered energy stored in food into disordered heat dissipated into the atmosphere. This increases the chaos in the Universe by about twenty million million million million units of data. This is ten million million million times greater than the gain in order in your brain, and that only if you do remember everything in this book..."

Triumph: The Importance of Being Nice

Good afternoon - honoured judges, esteemed teachers, and dear friends. I am Saxicola rubetra, from Class 12 Science, and having been offered this platform, I would like to express my views about the importance of being nice to people. It may seem to be an unusual topic, but when I finish, I think you’ll agree that it is a subject highly relevant to today’s teenagers. 

Hundreds of books have been written about social graces, etiquette and formal manners, ranging from fifty-page self help books of the one-minute variety, to sturdy volumes that include detailed histories of manners and etiquette. Formal manners might require help from a book, but what I wish to talk about is our basic attitude and behaviour towards our friends, family and colleagues in day to day life. That is something that cannot be learnt by reading any number of books. It has to come from within.

Parents tell children when they are little, that when someone gives them something, they should say thank you; if they do something wrong, they should say I am sorry; if they ask for something, they should say please. Children mechanically obey these instructions, without really understanding the meaning behind it all. That understanding comes only when they grow older and more mature. Having understood that thanking or apologizing is an expression of gratitude or regret, as the case may be, the sincerity of that expression should increase. On the contrary, we find that basically, as students grow older, they grow ruder.

Nobody really thinks about this at all. The case could be as simple as borrowing a pencil. When we were younger, we would go to a friend, who we definitely knew had one and ask very politely, please, may I have that. Nowadays, the situation is something like this. You need a pencil, you see one lying around in a pencil case, you don’t know who it belongs to; you pick it up and use it. How many would bother to put it back where it was taken from? Very few indeed. In a lot of cases the pencil in question is just thrown around somewhere and the owner is left to find it missing and then look for it. A pencil may not cost much, which is why people don’t bother too much. But this attitude of not caring for the fact that it does belong to someone else shows how unconcerned, how disrespectful we have become. We are very fastidious when it comes to our own stuff and very casual when it comes to other people’s things.

Our basic behaviour is what others judge us upon. The way we speak and act leads people to form their opinions of what we are, and what they can expect from us. People go to a lot of trouble to make a good first impression on new acquaintances. It might help to some extent, but how long does one go on making a pretence? If one is not basically nice by nature, the truth comes to the surface sooner or later. In your own friends’ circle you will notice, that when in trouble you tend to approach a few particular people more than others. And those particular people are much nicer in their general behaviour than the ones whom you don’t go to.

A self evaluation will show us how shockingly rude we have become. We take everyone and everything for granted. We are not bothered about misusing other people’s property. We do not care about being disrespectful to our elders. We say inappropriate things, which can really offend other people. We take a sadist pleasure in seeing other people squirm with embarrassment or humiliation. The worst is when we try to justify our misbehaviour quoting the other person’s conduct as a precedent.

Being nice shows consideration for other people. It shows that you are interested in creating harmony in society. It doesn’t really take a huge load of effort to be nice. It only needs a little change in attitude. That isn’t asking for too much, is it? If we were all a bit nicer to each other, the world could be a much better place for all of us to live in.

Thanks.

I remember this occasion in my last year in school, when we had this elocution competition, and all of us high school people had to be kicked by our teachers into participating, since we were too lazy to take the initiative ourselves. I was one of those kicked into it. And I didn't get past the preliminary round into the final on-stage round. But my teacher liked the prelim round speech I gave in class and she had me prepare it and speak it on stage anyway, as a guest speaker.

And that occasion was memorable. I'm a stage fright kind of person, and I usually go bonkers at the prospect of a public performance in front of an audience. And here I was, in front of three hundred people for the first time in my life. And it was great. I didn't fumble or stammer or forget anything of what I wanted to say. The feeling I had was beyond exhilaration. It was the feeling of triumph, over my own weakness, the joy that I had surmounted, for once at least, a mountain I always dreaded having to climb. It was just that: triumph.

Blue Sky and Golden Sun

I'm sick. I'm sad. And I'm broken.

And I've missed the lecture of a screwy prof. The first lecture of the day. The first lecture of the first day of spring.

The first day of spring. It's warm again. The sun is shining again as the sun shines, golden shine warming up the green earth. It's beautiful; not blazing hot, yet sunny and bright. And I'm sad. And broken.

The first day of spring. Winter has been delightful, like it always is in these parts, but today brings the first blue sky in weeks. Bright blue, beautiful deep blue, blue in all its shades, from the eastern horizon to the western, and all shades merging together like no beginning and no end, no line and no border, reflecting the green and brown shades of the earth. I don't know why, but there is more green today upon the earth's face than there has been for weeks.

The first day of spring. Golden sun under a blue sky. I bunked the first lecture of the first day of spring. And I'm alone on the roof above the classroom where my fellow students are working their brains. While I work my senses. And above my head is the commonest sight humans ever see, but I'm seeing it in totally new light. The commonest thing people feel, but today I realize it. And I'm broken.

But I'm healing. Slowly.

The Heart That Beats

Yesterday I saw a tree. Just an ordinary beautiful tree. Spreading out large branches, covered with leaves. Little insects crawling all over its body, while larger, sometimes nastier, two-legged insects roamed uselessly around it.

Two moments later, I scaled it and came to rest in its boughs. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, creating a song. Not musical, yet enchanting, because intertwined in its tone was a delicate peal of laughter. Distinct, yet indistinguishable.

I lent my ear and my bosom to the tree. And I heard it whisper to me. I felt its heart beat against my own. As gently as the leaves flutter to the ground. Calming, soothing, comforting. Caring. I am solid, I am strong, I am faithful. I care. I felt a voice within whisper to me. It too has a heart that beats.

The day passed. I don't know how the day passed. And it ended very sadly.

I ran. I just ran. I don't know where I ran. But I just ran. And then I stopped. I dropped down. I was at the foot of a tree.

And once again I was surrounded by its arms. Once again I heard it sing so mysteriously. Once again it whispered comfort to me, as I felt my heavy heart beat.

I am solid. I am strong. I am faithful.

I care.

And you must care for me too. For, I too have a heart that beats.

Random Thought Process? Hmmm...

People, people and more people, presenting the seemingly random yet intricately complex and altogether marvellously chaotic thought process of two young residents of the living kingdom...

Power to the White Moon!

The Holiday Armadillo: i'm just ferklempted so i am saying crap
The Dragon Lady: no matter
The Dragon Lady: go on talking as u like
The Holiday Armadillo: hehe... one of the true patrons of the true form of nonsense
The Holiday Armadillo: ahhhh... how i misss this
The Dragon Lady: i know... i get high on the air and start talking crap...
The Dragon Lady: and ppl tell me to shut up
The Holiday Armadillo: they hardly know anything about any sense... whoever expected them to understand nonsense...
The Dragon Lady: rite...
The Holiday Armadillo: there are very few people left who can understand our kind of non sense
The Dragon Lady: eksaktly
The Holiday Armadillo: the victorian kind
The Dragon Lady: uve hit the nail on its head
The Dragon Lady: the poor wall is screamin frm the pain
The Holiday Armadillo: the nail hit me on the hammers head
The Dragon Lady: owwww! tht wudve hurt
The Holiday Armadillo: nope... the nail is screaming cuz it twisted its point
The Holiday Armadillo: too hard a skull you see...
The Dragon Lady: oh my god! the nail lost its nose!
The Dragon Lady: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh...
The Holiday Armadillo: i see you got the POINT at the END
The Dragon Lady: ah yes... the end... to which all our discussion was pointed...
The Holiday Armadillo: yup, it pretty much had me right on the edge
The Dragon Lady: yeah... tis fun when ur turning the corner
The Holiday Armadillo: give up already... the moment has passed
The Holiday Armadillo: lol
The Dragon Lady: i know... sigh!