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. :)
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
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
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
Saturday, October 20, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, August 20, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, August 10, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, August 03, 2007
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!!!"
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!!!"
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
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...!
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...!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
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.
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.
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