Canteen Chronicle

Enter the most glorious hall of all those in college. The centre of life and living. The haven of that delight called food. That wonderful meeting place for all minds. The hangout for before college hours, after college hours, in between college hours, and of course during college hours(!). The college canteen.

Axe any course or department from the college, and you axe off a few students. Axe the canteen, and you axe the lifeline of the entire college, the thread holding it all together and providing survival to all its denizens. It is truly one of the few (arguably the only) parts of the college, which truly unites the college, having something of use for anyone (except the food of course) no matter what their taste.

The studious nerd can find a quiet corner where he can sit and study his notes, all colour-coded and arranged by subject on his laptop, referencing the internet to solve doubts (thanks to Wifi). The hot model of the college meanwhile, can find an entire hall full of people to admire her new stilettos. The gang of geeks can find good space for the weekly meeting of the local chapter of Hackers United. The ubiquitous gang o’ gals meanwhile can get their own table to sit and discuss the latest gossip and ways to spread it, over lunch.

The college jokers will always arrive there, since they’ll never be lacking an interested audience waiting to be entertained. The college tomboy will always someone to show off her new sneakers to, and someone else to practice her martial skills on. The college faculty have a place to relax and rejuvenate themselves, away from the claustrophobic office spaces allotted to them. The omnipresent truants meanwhile have a place where they can feel welcome and at home, during the usual routine of truancy (which can be quite taxing!).

Truly, the canteen represents unity in diversity. Analogous to college culture, every college also has a typical canteen culture. A college with a canteen and without canteen culture has something seriously wrong with it.

The canteen is where celebrations begin, right from birthday treats all the way upto pre-graduation revelry (in the countdown to the day they leave college) including but not limited to India’s success in the latest cricket or football match. It is where news is passed on and gossip is spread, right from exam dates upto the juicier details of the faculty members’ profiles on Orkut and Facebook. It is where college traditions begin: introduction to freshers and farewell to final year seniors. It’s where students pick up a quick fix breakfast before running off to exams, and where they return for a restoring lunch, groaning after a disastrous paper.

If you want to measure the pulse of a college, you need to know its crowd. And to know that crowd, visit the canteen where that crowd hangs out. You’re sure to get a taste of a slice of the life of the people there. And, a delicious morsel it can prove itself to be.

Employment. And how it happened to me

Employment brings satisfaction. Everyone wants to be employed. Why wouldn't they? Humans are egoistic above all else, and each wants to be able to have and maintain dignity and self-respect. In a world driven by money, being employed and earning a wage means they are able to support themselves, that their brains and their hands are able to produce something that is considered of enough value that it brings in money. Even the poorest beggar on the street would earn his keep if he could. The begging brings in pity and a corresponding lowering in self respect along with the coins. People do it if they have no other choice, but nobody would want to have to live like that, dependent on someone's pity for their survival.

Heavy funda. It's due to the recent session of on-campus recruitment carried out in my college recently. Companies come every year, analyze and interview young twenty-somethings who have just completed their third year in college and decide if they are worth placing in their company. The software companies usually come first and recruit nearly eighty percent of the total batch. I too have been recruited by one of these companies.

A couple of people put up a drop-box in the canteen, inviting people to write in their feelings and their placement experience, and what was special about it. I saw that, and then it struck me. Do I understand the implications of this? This is the first job I have been offered. This is the first time I spoke face to face with officials of a company, telling them why I think I should be employed by them to work with them, what I can do for them, what they can do for me, the first time that I tell someone that I should work for them and they should pay me for it.

The way it took place was funny too. I was suffering from viral fever two days before this company turned up for the recruitment process. Viral fever means a constant headache, loss of appetite, recurrent high fever, and a general weakness that overpowers every effort you make. I took to my bed and stayed in it for two days, swallowing medicine, bread and cheese sandwiches, and glucose drinks until I felt confident of getting up again. The medicine did help, and I was just left with a heavy head and a complete lack of appetite the day of the recruitment. Oh, I forgot. I was also left with the remnants of a rather unfortunate accident as well. A guy on a motorcycle ramming into me in a big hurry left me with bruises all over, and a rather nasty wound on my right arm. The healing took long enough, thanks to the fact that viral fever had cut my blood count by half.

But life's exciting enough. And fate likes to keep people on their toes. Which means that apart from nursing my injuries and dealing with a heavy head and general tiredness, I swallowed the last dose of medicine and gave the written test with absolutely no preparation. The amazing part is I cleared it too. This in the morning. Happy thoughts of having some time to rest before the next stage were rudely interrupted by the declaration of having that next stage immediately, which means I go to participate in group discussion in the afternoon in the same state of no food, no rest, heavy head and injury. And I clear this stage too!

Okay, so much for one day. At least now I could rest. They'd do the interview thing the next day. But no! They are such energetic people... they declared their intention of starting it in an hour. That very evening. That should give students enough time to change to formal dressing, gather their portfolio, and fill up the employment application form, in preparation for the grilling. For me, it was just enough time to swallow some fruit and an analgesic for my headache, wash my face, dress in formals, pick up my certificates and marksheets and the file they were supposed to be in, and run to the spot where they were checking and verifying students' academic records before sending them to be interviewed.

I had to hurriedly cram all my papers together and fill the form, which I botched up in my fatigue. That meant an extra procedure of ducking around the guy distributing the forms (who happened to be, that day, the senior professor in charge of all training and placement activities in my college) and get a second form out of him. He would have been really mad if he'd directly gotten to know I'd botched up the form. Then the long wait before my turn, and then actually sitting for the first serious interview of my life.

It was an HR interview and it was fun. Okay the guy wasn't smiling or anything, and I don't think he was entirely pleased with the answers I gave him, but somehow I enjoyed the process. His questions came shot after shot like gunfire, and I responded in like fashion. Then he slowed down and asked the questions that required thinking for a few seconds before answering. I bluffed answers in a couple of questions, and got away with it too. All along, I was carefully monitoring my body language and vocal expressions, as well as my eyes, so devastatingly giveaway for me.

Careful to sit the right way, so that I appeared upright and confident and yet wasn't discomfited by my elbow injury, careful to look into my interviewer's eyes but not stare, careful to moderate my voice to contain and display respect as well as self-respect, careful to express softness and yet sharpness, intelligence and yet wonder with my eyes at the appropriate moments, careful to think on my feet but not let my thoughts show in my eyes. The best part was all this came naturally to me, sitting there. I wasn't stiff when trying to control myself. The control was spontaneous, natural. I certainly wasn't stellar, but I must have done well enough, because I cleared it through to the second interview. I hadn't even attended their pre-placement presentation.

The second interview was the next morning, and it was a technical abilities interview. It didn't really go too well. My interviewer was done with me in ten minutes, and I myself was not satisfied with my answers. The one simple question he'd asked me to solve, I botched the logic of it. I didn't think I'd make it, so after another futile attempt to rejuvenate my appetite (really, loss of appetite is dangerous. You won't feel like eating, so you won't eat, and you won't get the strength so necessary for you to actually recover from what you're suffering), I returned to my hostel to sleep. Strangely enough, I cleared the second interview too, because a couple of hours later I was roused by frantic phone calls and messages, telling me I had cleared it and been selected, placed, employed, and I should get there as soon as possible. Not that it really helped me to get there; it was nothing but a set of thank-you-for-your-nice-hospitality speeches and advice for the future with the company and so on and so forth. I returned after this to sleep peacefully again.

Employed. It feels great. Of course, the actual employment, and working and pay package and all comes after a year, when I actually graduate and join the company, but it still does feel good to think that I'm employed. That someone talked to me and actually thought me good enough to work for them and be paid by them. It ain't that easy to convince someone to do that, no matter how good you may be.

An Equal Society

Someone recently gave an article for the college newsletter. It was a very basic article about how girls are not treated on par with guys on campus, and how irritating it is to be made to conform to restrictive policies with little or no sensible justification.

This got me thinking. Women have equal rights under the law and everything. But does anyone in this country really understand the concept of equality? As in equality between men and women? They think they do, and they feel we are really progressing in issues like women's liberation and so forth. The sad truth is that even in a college housing two thousand people on a campus of two and a half hundred acres, I have found hardly two people truly understand it, and practise it as well.

This can be analyzed by taking several little individual examples. Think about clothing and dressing. Men can roam about naked and women scream in embarrassment. Any sign of extra skin on a woman, forget being naked, and the men stare around, lewdly happy. In both cases, it's the woman whose 'chastity' 'stands at risk'.

Certain things are stereotyped as typically masculine or feminine. Very prominent in this list are clothes. Men's clothing with appropriate styling (I mean jeans and t-shirts) is now a part of the woman's wardrobe, but feminine styles of clothing are still common, and for some reason those are considered more 'appealing' than the masculine derived styles. No objection there, but that doesn't mean that a woman should be judged on the basis of her wardrobe. Worse than the judging is the discrimination a woman faces for being anything that's not typically feminine, be it clothes or anything else. I remember this movie that was extremely popular ten years back. I had liked it too at that time, but later I realized how it portrays what I'm talking about. The main female protagonist is a tomboy and like all humans, falls in love, but her love goes unrequited as long as she remains a tomboy. To put it in the words of a leading critic, her love is returned only when she resurfaces, "sarified and narified".

The ideology associated with this is also stereotyped, biased towards men. A statement I made today to a group of people and the response I received illustrates this perfectly. The topic under discussion was a recent beach trip we had taken, and one guy was describing somewhat merrily how I had stared at him and his abs when he had taken off his shirt to wash up. I retaliated saying that if it was okay for men to stare at women and their figures, there's no harm done if a woman looks at a man. Men will stare at women no matter what they wear or don't wear, so what's wrong if it happens vice versa? Everyone protested loudly at this, girls and guys both, and I only succeeded in furthering my reputation as being somewhat more forward in behaviour compared to the other girls who live on campus.

Next, take issues like boozing, fagging or doping. Some people associate a sort of morality (rather a lack of it) with these activities, and call them vice. I'm no stranger to the thought, since I myself once used to subscribe to it. And no issue with it; everyone is entitled to their own view. It's pretty normal for women to indulge in them the world over. Focus only on the two thousand people who live on my campus, since that's the model of the country I'm out to live in. Any woman in this college, who drinks alcohol and openly admits to it, is considered forward by any standards, in the eyes of the college public. Find out that she smokes or dopes, and she rises even 'higher' in estimation. For some strange reason, people consider it more of a vice when a woman indulges in any of these activities, than when a man does so. It's even more shocking to hear people say that it's okay or unavoidable in case of men, but that it's wrong for women.

Living in college broadens your horizons to infinite limits. You are exposed to a wider world, different ideas, different possibilities. You question this world and its rules and add your own opinion to it. And your morals and principles undergo the most drastic restructuring possible, because of such wide exposure. You get to meet so many different people, across the entire spectrum of mindset and mentality. Their company, their ideas add their influence. This being the case, it really shocks me to still know of people making statements like "Girls shouldn't compete with boys". And that came straight from one of the guys of my own college: a person who has studied in the same class as me right from my freshman year.

Consider security. Amongst crimes that are specifically targeted at women, rape is one of the nastiest and most serious. Sexual harassment is the more generic term for it, including with it everything from lewd comments and stares, upto rape. What is people's solution to this problem, apart from laws? "Don't wear provoking clothes."

Again, it's the woman who has to bear the brunt of it. Why did she get raped? Because she was wearing 'provoking' clothes and men are such beasts that they can't (and won't bother to) refrain from helping themselves to what seems a most delicious treat. So, rather than teach men that it's wrong for them to treat women like objects of pleasure, they want to teach women to be more submissive.

What does security mean? According to the chauvinists, a woman is well protected if she stays inside the house after dark, which is when she is most threatened. So to keep her safe, cage her up after dark! This is enforced by both spoken and unspoken rules everywhere. Why did she get raped? "Because she went out of the house after dark. She was asking for trouble. She deserved it."

A group of friends had a party recently. The majority were men, but there were a fair number of women as well. The party was on till late night but the women were required by rules to return strictly by a certain time. They did. The men were also required to do the same, but they didn't bother and returned well after curfew. Of course they received a yelling.

Note a few facts about this. First, the guys only got a yelling from their supervisor. Had it been the girls who were late, they'd have got a yelling, a fine imposed as punishment, and a good deal of character sludging. Next, the guys were found complaining the next day. "If it's ten-thirty for the girls, it can certainly be much later for the guys." Why should it? Why at all? I took issue with the guy who spoke the sentence, and who also happens to be a close acquaintance of mine. His defence was that girls should not stay out late, since safety could then become a problem.

That's my point exactly. Safety should not have to be a problem in the first place. It's a knotty issue, on the borderline of the realms of freedom and equality. For goodness' sake, the world is supposed to move towards equality. Not just equality of laws. I mean equality ingrained as a quality of behaviour. I mean absence of discrimination, and absence of this attitude of chauvinistic high-handedness. In all essential social terms, equality needs to become a mindset, a part of one's natural thinking. A woman should be free to walk the roads alone at night. Not just free under the law. But free from fear of being raped, from fear of being ostracized, from the persecution caused by social backbiting, from chauvinistic nastiness that's totally uncalled for. Free, and equal.

And apart from having this equality, a girl should assert her right to this equality. She needs to be strong enough to know and recognize injustice and fight it. Unfortunately, centuries of downtrodden existence have brought in a mentality of dogged submissiveness in women. Those few who fight, find themselves speaking in a land of deaf people. Like I do.

It's not an easy task. It's one thing to impose a set of rules that must be obeyed, but how do you change the mindset of an entire generation of people, let alone three generations coexisting together, who have all grown up thinking in the way of their forefathers? How do you get people to see and accept the rationality of those laws and rules? One person alone can't do anything against an army of people who together form society. But individual people waging on the war can set a precedent, which more people from coming generations can take up and follow. That is how slow and silent revolutions in social norms have come about. And that is my hope, that I too may learn, and thus teach, and play my part in this revolution.

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.