Reminiscence

At stake

2011-11-11T23:08:00.002+05:30

Bets worth Rs 150 crore were placed on the birth of Aishwarya's kid. Bets worth Rs 200 crore were placed on Sachin's hundredth century. I wonder how much people are willing to bet on me getting my PhD

Research Progress

2011-09-02T02:05:00.004+05:30

When I joined PhD, I thought I will do something original. Unable to do that, I started making an attempt to modify or improve something that has already been done. After some time, I downgraded to trying to reproduce the reported results. Finally, unable to do that also, for the last 2 days, I have been sending emails to the authors of papers asking them how they got their results. I wonder what the next phase is

Here's my card

2011-06-30T23:15:00.002+05:30

Whenever I meet my old friends who joined the industry, they give me their business card. Since I don't have one, I don't know what to do in return. I just show them my college identity card. I am now thinking of getting photocopies of my ID card and handing it over whenever I meet people

Image source: Zazzle

We Picked and We Plucked

2011-03-26T21:59:00.002+05:30

The other day, our guitar instructor told the entire class to play a tune together, in a synchronized way. At the end of our performance, he smiled and said that we sound like a swarm of mosquitoes

Cartoon Source: Shutterstock

To Pick or To Pluck

2011-03-20T16:33:00.002+05:30

In my first guitar class, we were asked to start by just picking the strings to get a feel for the instrument. When I tried it, the guitar slipped from my hand and fell down. Since then, the instructor insists that I start my class by just holding the guitar and standing still for some time, to get used to it

Cartoon Source: Dreamstime

Noices News

2011-03-13T18:33:00.005+05:30

Research student falls asleep during technical talk in JN Tata Auditorium. Spends entire night locked up in auditorium

A seemingly harmless technical talk at the JN Tata Auditorium in India's premier research institute, Indian Institute of Science (IISc), Bangalore, took a tragic turn as Khoom B Karan, a research scholar in ECE (Encephalitis Cures Engineering) department fell asleep during the talk and did not wake up even as the speakers, entire audience and the support staff of the JN Tata Auditorium left at the end of the talk and the slumbering research scholar was locked up in the auditorium for the entire night.

The trapped scholar was discovered in the morning when Kanta Bai the cleaner opened the auditorium, allegedly for cleaning purposes. Asked about her reaction on finding the trapped research scholar, she said “In my 25 years of service, I have seen people carelessly leave behind all kinds of junk in the auditorium. People leave behind cups, brochures, text books even research papers. But this is the first time I have seen someone leave behind an entire research scholar”

Bahadur, the caretaker of JN Tata Auditorium was the last person to leave the auditorium. When questioned on why he neither saw nor heard the snoring researcher, he said “What saahib. Why are you blaming me? This place is so big, how can I alone take care of everything? In fact, so many students fall asleep in here because of the AC, soft cushions and the drawling voice of some speakers. But this guy was the only one stupid enough not to wake up at the end of the talk. I don’t understand why they hold such boring talks in such a cozy environment.” He then looked at The Noices Team closely, and said “In fact I think I have even seen couple of you sleeping in here”. Noices wisely decided not to push the matter any further with Bahadur.

Khoom B Karan’s brother B B Shaan was understandably aggrieved. He said, “This is very dangerous. I demand that the administration take some immediate action to prevent such unfortunate incidents in the future. How could they be so careless and lock up the auditorium while a research scholar is blissfully asleep inside? Khoom bhaiyya woke up around half an hour after the sedative voice of the speaker stopped impinging on his ears. He could not even use the mobile to call for help since there is no network available within the auditorium. He tried to shout for help. He had to run half a kilometre from his seat up the stairs towards the exit to knock on the doors only to realise that the doors are padded. How is anyone supposed to attract attention for help?”

Khoom was equally agitated about the mishap. He said, “Do you have any idea of the mind numbing experiences I had to withstand in there? All the ghosts of past speakers haunted me and kept lecturing me throughout the night. I had no choice but to listen to the technical talks, conferences and seminars of the past. I was too frightened to even yawn in front of those ghosts of past speakers” and he showed how stiff his jaw had become from endless hours of controlling his yawn.

He is currently recuperating at the IISc Health Centre. His duty doctor Dr Quack said “EEG did not show much activity when he was brought here. His mind was quite blank. The pulse and brain activity was alarmingly low. This might be due to being trapped in that ghastly place for over 14 hours. 2 hours of a technical talk and over 12 hours of being trapped in there while the echoes of the past talks kept reverberating. There is a limit to what the human brain can endure”.

Asked about Khoom’s recovery progress, Dr Quack said, “We had to give regular doses of the recorded voice of his advisor reprimanding him in order to raise his brain activity to acceptable levels. Fortunately, we have lot of experience in treating such cases at IISc. As you can see, he has responded very well to treatment”.

Asked for his feelings on surviving this mishap, Khoom said, “After this near brain death experience, I have begun to appreciate life. I have decided to start exercising my brain regularly. We tend to take everything we have for granted. Using brain only just before deadlines and examinations and ignoring it altogether at other times. I have realised that it is wrong” and he nodded in self-acknowledgement.

The Noices Team was asked not to aggravate the patient too much and we were requested to wind up quickly since it was almost time for his next dose of medicine. When asked for his final comments, “You only get one brain. Use it well” was Khoom B Karan’s parting shot.

Sketch Credits: Jithin K S, ECE, IISc

When age wasn't more than just a number

2011-02-27T20:58:00.007+05:30

The other day, a friend of mine (and a fellow Voiceian) sent me a few words penned by her on the occasion of the day she admits to everybody that she has grown an year older.

The words are reproduced below followed by my two cents worth of thoughts

I’m scared. She’s my best friend these days (I’m at home and my other friends are busy working people who stay far away). She’s the most frequent visitor home and I delight in her company. We laugh over Suppandi stories, share chocolates and tell each other tales about crazy people in our respective schools (er...campus, in my case).

Shuba is 10 yrs old. She thinks I’m only a few years elder to her. I’m terrified of what would happen when she learns my true age. Will she be repulsed that I’m so old? I mean, 25 would seem like a very large age to someone who’s 10, right? She’s not yet asked me my age. I live in dread of the day she does. If she does…well…er…will heaven forgive me if I lie?

~ Smrithi Murthy (MRDG, IISc)

You know, the qualities I admire most about children are, the innocence, the readiness to believe, the trust they place in others and the way they actually speak their mind, never indulging in the double talk that some of us adults call “diplomacy”.

Sometimes I wonder whether the world would be a different place if everybody retained the desirable childlike characteristics we had when we were kids.

In case you are still curious, this is how Smrithi tells me it all ended

The inevitable happened. Shuba asked me how old I am. I looked at her, brought all my courage together and said, “25”. She looked at me first in disbelief, then thoughtful. “But you’re still studying?” she asked. “Yes”, said I. “And you’ll finish your studies when you’re 28?” “Yes” (well…I couldn’t tell her that was only my best guess and one can never predict a PhD). “You don’t look that old”, she commented. That was it. We then began talking normally, of other things. I felt like I’d passed some test. Phew!

~ Smrithi

Glad to hear that, at least for children, age is just another number to be forgotten

My V Day Appointment

2011-02-15T00:34:00.000+05:30

I knew my social life is going to the dogs when I realised that the only appointment I have on Valentine's Day is with my PhD advisor

मुन्नी और शीला (Munni and Sheela)

2011-01-30T11:56:00.004+05:30

अर्ज़ किया है...
इधर देखो तो मुन्नी उधर देखो तो शीला,
इधर देखो तो मुन्नी उधर देखो तो शीला,
हसीना तेरे इश्क़ में हज़ारों नौजवानों के ग्रेड्स का हो गया केला

Translation:
I recite...
Here I see Munni There I see Sheela,
Here I see Munni There I see Sheela,
Oh beautiful woman, infatuation for you has led to the screwing up of grades of thousands of young men

Looking back, Falling forward

2011-01-01T23:59:00.004+05:30

By any far-fetched chance of probabilistic imagination, have you wondered why my blog is named Reminiscence? If not then I am sure you have better things to do. Anyways, there are a handful of people who do not and hence I go forth pandering to their curiosities and resulting queries.

When I started the blog, I had intended it to be a sort of a public diary where I could share experiences that triggered an oasis of contemplation in an otherwise not so green field of thought. Under normal circumstances such thoughts would have gone in a condensed form into the folds of my closest confidant, my personal diary. Then one fine day, a narcissist alter ego inside me convinced me to share some of the less embarrassing thoughts with those willing to read these pages.

However, over the years the character and basic feel of the blog has changed. If you clear the cobwebs a bit and look into my older posts and compare them with newer posts, you might find that the former have a more philosophical tone. As time passed, I realised that my (AWESOME) sense of humour seemed to amuse my readers more than my ramblings on the mundane fact that I forgot to brush my teeth one morning and my philosophical interpretations of the disastrous consequences.

Over the years I have stopped trying hard to create that (fake) hue of philosophy on my blog and the blog began to take a comic shade closer in character to the nutty author. See the tags on this blog and their frequency. Yes, the name of the blog is misleading and I have wanted to change it many times. Apparently I can change the name of the blog whenever I fancy but I cannot change its web address. I felt it would be a bit awkward to have a pseudo-intellectual link name like “reminiscentarrows.blogspot.com” and have a blog name that is neither related to Reminiscence nor Arrows. My plans of shifting to a new blog have been put on the backburner courtesy my not so strong technical skills and quite so strong procrastination skills.

I digress a lot today. Coming to the core of the bottom of the point I wanted to make in this post. As the new year dawns and the old year dusks I Reminisce about the one resolution I have managed to uphold over the years. The practise of writing a personal diary. It’s been over a decade since I started this habit.

At the end of every year, I take time off to look at the pages of the past year. I summarise the year in a couple of pages. More often than not I end up flipping the pages of years further back. It’s a wonderful feeling. Looking back at how the thought process (and writing style) has evolved is a soulful experience. The way priorities have changed over the years. The dreams, desires, wishes, whims and fantasies (even the crushes). The pleasure of rubbing off the dust of the years (literally and metaphorically) and flipping through yellow but crisp pages makes it worth expending the miniscule effort of writing every night at the end of the day.

Common sense would tell that there should be a lesson to be learnt by revising the mistakes of the past. But over the years, I have seen myself make a couple of mistakes with some similarities. Despite having written about it in the past years. Yet again, every year I look back and wonder what it will be like going forward. How to describe this apparent incongruence? How about the title of this post?

Degrees vs Cricket

2010-12-21T15:46:00.003+05:30

Test Match	PhD
5 days or less	More or less 5 years
Toss	Advisor assigned
Fielding	Course work
Leather hunt (first 2 days)	Literature survey and search for thesis problem (first 2 years)
Opposition declares	Advisor takes pity and chooses thesis problem for you
Openers face shiny new ball and bouncers	Comprehensive exam
Wickets fall	Years go by
Nightwatchman	Hobby to prevent depression
Pitch crumbles	Equipment breaks down
Spinners spin a web	Googly from experimental results
Follow on	Night out
Unfair decision	Paper rejected
Last session. No. 11 batsman trying to save his stumps from reverse swinging yorker at 150kmph	Thesis Defence

T20	MBA
20 overs	2 years
Minimal need for technique	Minimal need for technical stuff
Pyrotechnics - Brute force, Big shots	Pyrotechnics - Marketing Ability
Cheerleaders	Gets a girl that looks like a cheerleader
IPL Auction	Placement Season

Sketch Credits: Jithin K S, ECE, IISc

Salsa Twist

2010-11-28T21:47:00.002+05:30

Recently, Salsa classes have started at IISc. We were told that we will be assigned partners if we don't have one. So I went there happily imagining that I will be paired with some pretty girl. Turns out they make pairs based on skill levels. I was hooked up with a 70 year old lady who was advised by her doctor to take up dancing to get rid of stiff joints

Full Spectrum Sweep

2010-11-21T15:46:00.005+05:30

It started simply as high frequency microwaves. Then I was advised to look at terahertz frequencies. Now the focus is shifting towards infrared and photonics. Looking at the haphazard way my search for a thesis topic is progressing, I think I will reach gamma rays by the time I give my comprehensive exam

Image credits/sources:
Left half: Rodger Weese Soul-utions
Right half: Si/SiGe Research, Univ of Cambridge
Putting them together: Myself

Eyebrow Raising Research

2010-11-10T13:14:00.004+05:30

Many years ago, one of my ex-professors had this unique habit. Everytime I said something stupid, he used to raise his eyebrows and stare at me till I stumbled towards the right answer on my own. As my work progressed, the frequency of such incidents reduced gradually to zero. I was elated, thinking that I am improving. During my final meeting with him, I observed him closely. My illusion was shattered and I understood the real reason. One year of working with me and his eyebrows had permanently shifted to a higher position on his forehead

The Blue Umbrella

2010-10-29T22:19:00.009+05:30

He always sat at the same table. First floor, side row, corner seat, close to the edge, overlooking the floor below. It offered everything he required. In order of his liking, the things his position offered were, privacy, ideal ventilation, a good view of the wall clock and an unobstructed view of anyone entering or leaving the library.

He had followed his regular routine till now. Entered the library at 8am. As always, the first customer. The elderly librarian greeted him congenially. He never greeted back verbally. He just nodded. He had no requirement for pleasantries.He was a man in a shell and content with remaining within.

The librarian knew him too well to have taken any offence. The old man just watched fondly as his favourite reader climbed up the spiral staircase and settled in his position. Everyone was aware of his reticent nature. Apart from his lack of concern for pleasantries and associated preference for monosyllables and reluctance to use his multisyllabic vocabulary, he did not give much reason for others to dislike him. He even displayed minor mannerisms that sort of made people fond of him over a period of time. The grocer liked him because he never haggled, the barber liked him because he was not fussy and quarrelsome about his haisrstyle, and his peers liked him because he was a handy and ready reference for long equations, tricky concepts and physical constants. The librarian of course liked him because he was the most regular reader for the past three years. In fact, a self-centred researcher rarely offers many reasons for anyone to really resent him.

He had begun to settle down at his usual table. He had collected his stack of books for the day. Taking his writing instruments out of his bag, he laid them methodically beside the large stack. With his extravagant yet youthful and athletic frame, sitting hunched over the even larger stack of books, laying out his writing aids, he looked like a mental giant preparing itself for the bibliophilic feast that lay ahead.

He held the pen over the paper, opened the book and was about to bite into his first nugget of knowledge when the blue umbrella entered his peripheral vision. He looked down at the ground floor library entrance and watched as the blue umbrella emerged from the drizzle outside and entered the library. He could not see the owner of the umbrella from his high position. He could just see the blue umbrella. Inspite of the fact that he could not see the owner, there was a strange attraction.

The attraction had started with the blue umbrella. But it did not end when the blue umbrella was lowered and laid down to dry at the porch. His eyes moved effortlessly up the slender limb that was clutching it and opthalmically grazed the owner of the umbrella. The rest of the objects in his field of view receded as the enchantress took centre stage.

He kept observing as she walked over to the librarian’s desk, took the form for new members and started filling it. She deposited the form, collected her new card and proceeded towards the newspaper section on the ground floor.

Our bibliophile regained his senses and looked at the wall clock. It was almost 8:30am. It was the first time since he joined the library that he had spent more than 15 minutes inside the library looking at anything other than printed matter.

He forced his attention back to the books but the blue umbrella kept tugging at it. He lost the tug of war when she came back later in the day. She picked up the blue umbrella and walked away gracefully. He followed her as far as rectilinear propagation of light allowed. As she walked out of the range of his view, he found himself wishing that he had the ability to bend rays of light.

She became a daily visitor and our reader found himself looking at more than just books in the library. As the days went past he increasingly found himself searching for her with the same intensity with which he used to search for books in the library.

He was enchanted. Enchanted with every aspect of her. Her long black hair, the captivating smile, the perfect features, the demure body language, the brown eyes that seemed to have the depth of the ocean in them. Everything about her was so fascinating. Even the blue umbrella.

The heart was conquered. It took some time for the mind to accept it. Years of icy isolation had made him alien to the warm feelings in his heart. But the ice was thawing as he felt his heart get soaked in the caramel delight that is love.

She proved herself to be a voracious reader. He involuntarily monitored her reading habits closely and admired her diverse taste in books. Her changing reading habits started bringing her to the first floor. As a side-effect, he suddenly found himself spending gradually increasing amounts of time in front of the mirror before coming to the library.

One fine day, he saw his lady love unsuccessfully looking for a particular book on his floor. She decided to ask for help and proceeded by approaching the reader closest to the stairs. The reader did not seem to know the location of the book she was looking for. She made her way along the row to the next reader. Again, a negative answer. She inched her way closer and closer, one desk at a time, towards her secret admirer in the corner seat. The closer she came, the faster his heart started beating. He almost leapt with joy as he heard the title of the book she was looking for her. He knew precisely where it was. He fumbled mentally to frame the sentence with which he would direct her. He checked his breath. Straightened his hair. Cleared his throat. He began to weigh whether he should accompany her to the shelf? Would it seem too eager? Is it too early to ask her out for coffee? He was relieved off all his dilemmas as the reader next to him directed her to the appropriate shelf and halted her progress along the row. For the first time in 3 years of being a member of the library, he felt like picking up his book and throwing it at a fellow reader.

He prided himself at never relying on chance. So, he never admitted even to himself, let alone anybody else, that he was secretly, desperately praying for another similar but successful encounter. The confectionary shop next to the library perceived an increase in the sale of mouth fresheners.

For the next considerable number of days, she seemed to require no assistance in locating the books she required. The love addict began to find that the daily visual drug delivery dosage was no longer enough to satiate his cardiac cravings. He was unable to focus on his work like he used to and there was a backlog of pending work beginning to build up. The trouble with a brain with above average IQ is that, it meddles in the affairs of the heart. This brain had started plotting ways to achieve what his heart desired.

That morning, he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself. There was nothing repulsive there. In fact the image was quite easy on the eye. Broad intellectual forehead, clearly demarcated eye brows, deep-set and apparently intelligent eyes. The few wrinkles around the eyes were more from poring over books for endless hours rather than age. Overall he made a pleasing sight with the luxuriant, black, slightly unkempt hair and thick spectacles giving him an erudite air. The rest of the generous torso provided an illusion of athletic ability. He did make an eye catching scene. He assured himself that he was good looking, gentle and kind, good hearted, well mannered, thoroughly sophisticated and a complete gentleman, all veiled behind the curtain of awkward nerdiness.

He prepared his mind to cross the energy barrier that was normal social interaction with the girl he had a crush on. He tried to convince himself that he had the potential to cross the barrier. Whenever any doubts crept, he reminded himself of the probability of quantum tunneling and proceeded towards the library.

He planned to initiate a conversation with her on her way out of the library. It was a Friday. He would ask her plans for the weekend and ask her if she would like to spend it in his company. The lines were well rehearsed. The logistics were thought out well in advance. Only the execution remained.

He sat at his desk, quietly, waiting for evening, crouched like a tiger, ready to pounce on the prey of opportunity when she walks out of the library. He itched to reveal his newly acquired claws of witty, well-rehearsed pick-up lines and snare his prey.

Dusk set in, accompanied by a light drizzle. He saw her come to the desk, and issue her books for the day. The romeo tiger licked its lips in anticipation. The adrenaline began to flow and his heart rate increased. It was time to move in for the kill. He bounded down the stairs. That was when he saw the blue umbrella walking away into the distance. She was moving faster than he expected her to.

He would have made a dash for it and caught up with her, had he not seen the black umbrella move up next to his beloved blue umbrella. He watched helplessly from the distance as the two umbrellas came too close for his comfort. His dreams and hopes came crashing down, pain pierced his heart and try as he might he could not prevent the tears from welling up in his eyes. Unable to clearly see the owners of the two umbrellas, he could just watch as the two circles of the umbrellas overlapped and trailed off into the dusky darkness like a Venn diagram.

Heartbroken, the tiger morphed into a cat and started walking back home alone in the rain. His prey had walked off with the hyena.

A heartbreak can inspire a man to great works. Heartbroken, poets create romantic poems, musicians dole out soulful music, artists paint their most beautiful works, athletes wear out punching bags. But, what could our scientist do? He delves deep into the mathematical aspects of quantum phenomena.

In an attempt to bury his personal anguish under the weight of academic workload, he locked himself up and accomplished all the tasks that had been pending since he caught the love bug. Not resting even after catching up with the backlog, he zoomed ahead of his schedule and left his peers awestruck with his progress. In fact, he himself was amazed at the focus and untiring effort he was able to muster for the past couple of days. Couple more heartbreaks and he would be right on track to win a Nobel Prize.

The long weekend finally came to an end. The weekend that he intended to be the most romantic weekend of his life had turned out to be the most academically productive weekend of his life. He couldn’t resist a smirk at the irony of it all as he dressed up that Monday morning and proceeded to his usual haunt, the library. The same library that gave him so much and yet, took away, even more than it had given.

The cold and misty morning seemed to make his bones ache almost as much as his heart was aching. He walked slowly towards the library entrance. Visibility was low due to the mist but he could recognise her through it all. She was standing there near the notice board. She was pinning up something to the board. “What now? Her marriage invitation to the public?” thought our irrational nerd. She pushed the final pin into the notice and he imagined it to be the final nail in the coffin of his love. She walked into the library and towards the newspaper section.

He proceeded to read the notice more out of morbid curiosity than anything else.

Few seconds later, the old librarian heard heavy thuds of rushing footsteps and saw his favourite bookworm, the usually calm scientist barge into the library and run frantically towards the newspaper section. The librarian had never known the scientist to ever even walk in a hurried manner let alone sprint in this frenzied manner. What devil could have resulted in this unusual sight? The librarian could not control his curiosity. He left his desk and proceeded to read the notice that had had resulted in this hyperactive state of the usually sedate scientist.

The notice read,

Lost: Blue Umbrella

I had kept it at the library porch on Friday morning and it was missing when I came for it in the evening. If someone has taken it by mistake, kindly return it to me. Contact details below…

That was where our lover had abruptly stopped reading the notice and began his mad dash into the library towards his lady love.

The librarian still spends his time wondering how a simple notice of a lost blue umbrella could produce such a pronounced change of behaviour in his favourite bookworm.

A Different Ball Game

2010-10-29T21:20:00.001+05:30

I have not been following cricket religiously for the past couple of years. So when I read the headlines the other day

"Shoaib caught on camera tampering with ball"

it took me couple of seconds to realise that Shoaib Akhtar has not retired and they are talking about an actual cricket ball

The Ultimate Stunt

2010-10-26T23:39:00.000+05:30

In the movie Robot, Rajinikanth performs many superhuman feats and takes down helicopters, conjures shock waves by stamping his feet and shoots bullets from his fingers. But, my favourite stunt of all is when the 60+ Rajinikanth romances that Ash babe. Truely evergreen

No Race for Tired Men

2010-10-05T20:02:00.000+05:30

Its tough being a guy. Men are expected to put up a fight. You cannot sit back and enjoy the scenery when you are tired. I experienced it during the bicycle race when petite, pretty girls started overtaking me on their ladybirds

Rule of the Race

2010-10-03T01:06:00.001+05:30

This weekend there is a bicycle race at IISc. I was very eager to participate using my cycle. However, I hesitated a bit after reading the rules. They clearly mentioned

"Non-human powered vehicles are not allowed"

Everything's fair in Love and War and Peace

2010-09-21T20:10:00.003+05:30

I have friends who read classics like War and Peace just so that they can tell people that they have read it. I don't like that attitude and I never do that. I just go through the synopsis and character sketches and tell people that I have read it

Sketch Credits: Bhavana Sekhar, ECE, IISc

A Different Language of Thought (एक अलग भाषा, एक अलग सोच)

2010-09-15T13:24:00.003+05:30

हिन्दी दिवस के शुभावसर पर मुझे अपने विचार स्थिति संदेश के माध्यम से शुद्ध हिन्दी में प्रस्तुत करते हुए हार्दिक प्रसन्नता हो रही है

Translated:
On the occasion of Hindi Diwas, it gives me great pleasure to express my views via the medium of my status message in pure Hindi

Power of Prayer

2010-09-11T12:22:00.001+05:30

One of the things I like about prayer, is that, it makes me feel like Someone else is going to take care of my problems

Early bird gets the ?

2010-09-01T14:04:00.001+05:30

I wonder, if I come to lab early morning in my night dress, will my professor and lab mates think I have been working all night in the lab?

Sibling Bonds, Unravelled Threads, and More

2010-08-29T20:51:00.006+05:30

ProLogue

The trouble with receiving a Rakhi via post (especially when I am alone) is that its difficult to tie it on my own wrist all by myself. I appealed for assistance to certain male friends, in the past. But they displayed too big an ego to help me with such feminine chores every year. I don’t feel like asking any of the girls I know to tie it on me (for obvious reasons).

Just-Logue

I was making an attempt to tie the Rakhi single-handedly (yes, in this case single-handedly does mean using only one hand). I wished that I had an extra limb to expedite matters. I sat crouching over my right wrist as the fingers of my left hand attempted to demonstrate unattainable dexterity. At the end of each of those failed attempts, I stood up agitated and paced around the room planning my next assault on this knotdom. Each time I stood up, I experienced a headrush. The variations of blood flow must have triggered a few threads of thoughts in my head.

I will try to recount here the threads as they began unravelling in my mind. All while I was attempting to ravel this one thread around my wrist.

If I were to make a list of all the special days that I enjoy making fun of on my blog, Valentine’s Day would be the undisputed winner. But second place would be taken by none other than Rakshabandhan. Also, next to Valentine’s Day, it is the one day when people enjoy making fun of me the most. Those who are close to me, ask me whether I ever regret the fact that I don’t have any siblings. Why the hell am I not asked similar questions on Valentine’s Day?

Acquaintances do not spare me either.
“Do you have any siblings?”
“No, I am alone”
“Aahh that is why you are like this” is the deduction cum diagnosis from Sherlock

I am told that, studies have shown that, people with siblings tend to be more extroverted, as compared to those without siblings. I am glad that I can blame my introvert nature on my lack of siblings.

A member of my family blessed with siblings tells me that I might have grown up to be a different and more outgoing person if I had someone to grow up with, someone to communicate my thoughts and dilemmas to.

“Having no one to share feelings with during childhood, leads to an inability and unwillingness to open up to new people. Growing up alone, creates loners” he tells, pointing two ophthalmic fingers at me.

My alter ego is offended that he is not being considered as a separate person. My alter ego hopes that this member of my family has numerous kids. I agree with my alter ego. Considering the amount of genetic material he shares with me, he shouldn’t take any chances. He needs at least half a dozen kids to make sure that none of them grow up to be like me.

“What do you mean by me? You mean us!”, my alter ego screams out
My alter ego corrects me and I stand corrected. Wouldn’t want anybody growing up to be like my alter ego either.

Alter egos aside, I strongly feel that there is no way I could ever know what it is like to have a sibling. I do have cousins, and lots of them. However, as this earlier post reveals, I don’t think I have ever been like a true sibling to most of them. When friends share their feelings about various relationship issues ranging from parents, teachers, friends, even crushes, I am able to empathise with them to a certain extent. However, whenever someone shares with me any sibling related issues, I feel an emotional lacuna. I have no firsthand experience of such matters. I am unable to relate to the thoughts being shared with me. I can no longer say, “Yes I can understand, I have been there myself”.

By this time, I had completed another failed attempt at knots and what nots and I stood up agitated. The headrush flushed out the old thoughts. I sat down after sometime and started my next attempt to scale Mount Knot. The blood in my head started settling down and new thought patterns emerged amongst the ripples.

Personally, I cannot help feel that things were not that bad growing up alone. No one to fight with, no one to share the TV remote with, no one to pull the blanket. I am the king of my bed and I get to choose which pillow I want. No sibling rivalry. No sharing of toys. I could play with whatever I wanted in whichever way I deemed fit. I made the rules, I bent them and broke them. If I won, it was because I was getting better at the game, if I lost, it was because I could not surpass my alter ego.

But I cannot help wonder, did all these factors lead to the creation of someone who is not comfortable in a social situation? Someone unwilling to open up? Someone who is selfish, possessive and insanely jealous regarding the things he holds close to his heart? Deep inside him, its not the fact that he is given these tags by peers that bothers him. It is the fact that he doesn’t truely resent the tags.

The thread, having described all possible loci around my wrist finally lets itself be led along intended lines. I tug at the final thread and it stays put. I pump my fist vigorously in the air with unbounded joy at my accomplishment and the recently tied Rakhi flies away.

EpiLogue

This part is dedicated to the readers who have come to expect inappropriate humour in each one of my posts. How can I resist?

In case any of my male readers find themselves the target of sibling related pity and over enthusiastic people wanting to make sure you get your share of sisterly love, here are some excuses to enable you to escape unscathed. The ladies can just read it to understand and appreciate the extent to which a man can go to avoid adding to the number of sisters he has.

I consider myself as an expert on such innovative excuses for various occasions (as demonstrated in an earlier post). However, I must add that you must exercise caution and discretion while using them. I have added my suggestions on how to use them for maximum effect.

1. Girl approaches with Rakhi in hand. You open your arms wide and say,

“Insanity runs in my family. I guess you should fit right in. Welcome to the family dear sister”

2. This excuse is to be spoken in the polite yet formal and impersonal tone in which the pretty girl at the airline ticket counter tells you that there are no more seats.

"I am sorry but both my forearms are booked in advance today. Would you like to be put in the waitlist in case anyone cancels at the last minute?"

3. In this excuse, the first sentence is to be spoken in a self righteous manner. The second in a suggestive manner. Note that this excuse is perhaps the most dangerous of all excuses listed here. To be used only if you cannot use the others for some reason. Recommended to be used if you want a permanent fix to your problem. The eager sister will not dare cross your path after you use this one on her.

"I am a firm believer in the concept of one woman (per position). The position of my sister is taken. But there are other vacancies, if you are interested"
*Add a wink for special effects

4. On some occasions there are male peers who enjoy trying to get you your share of sisterly love. More often than not, the real intention is a hidden taunt and an attempt to legitimately call you a Saala. You, don’t have to stoop low and abuse such male peers. You only have to abuse yourself (appropriately).

He: Main apni nayi girlfriend se tujhe rakhi bandhwaoonga.
You: Bahut bada B**ch*d hoon main

5. A genetically gifted, hot and intelligent babe with perfect features, perfect eyesight, sparkling teeth and amazing hair comes up with the proposal of making you her brother. You agree at first. You even extend your hand. She comes forward to tie the Rakhi. At the last minute, you withdraw your hand and say the following words (overflowing with emotion)

"NO, I cannot bear to watch this loss to the gene pool if we end up being brother and sister!"

Then you run away

Disclaimer: The characters in this entire post are entirely fictional. The views and humour are not meant to be taken seriously. I will not be held responsible for any damages (emotional and physical) resulting from the use of these excuses.

Craving for Clairvoyance

2010-08-22T21:37:00.002+05:30

Things would be much simpler if we could just read each other's thoughts. I wouldn't have to write any of this stuff

P.S. Written when I was unable to express my thoughts and feelings for the nth time in life

Tiger says Meow

2010-08-16T16:18:00.001+05:30

Came to the lab today morning like a Tiger, full roaring with enthusiasm. I assured myself that absolutely nothing will distract me from accomplishing my goals for the day. Then I learnt that my advisor is out of station and I left the lab purring with pleasure like a Kitty

Give me headphones and I will give you ...

2010-08-12T21:39:00.000+05:30

Lend me a pair of headphones tonight and I will lend you an ear whenever required

My laments at the end of course work

2010-08-04T18:15:00.001+05:30

Saari umr hum ratt ratt ke padh liye,
Ek semester to ab hamein jeene do jeene do,
Grades to gaye, interest bhi gaya,
Ek semester to ab hamein jeene do jeene do,
Give me some marks, give me some brain,
Give me another chance, I wanna learn calculus once again

Flora and Fauna

2010-07-28T11:05:00.000+05:30

I have a shirt with bright floral designs. It was washed with a washing powder whose ads claim to give fabrics a fresh, natural fragrance. I wore the shirt today and got stung by a bee

Drive to Where?

2010-07-27T09:20:00.001+05:30

When I had reached the age of 18, I joined driving school. The driving instructor was an atheist. By the time I received my license, he had become a very religious and God fearing man.

My Thankless Battle

2010-07-13T21:05:00.001+05:30

There are certain thankless battles to be fought in life. If you win, you don't get sufficient credit and recognition. If you lose, society will neither appreciate the efforts put in nor will it ever let you forget the loss. I have faced such a situation in my life. A girl had challenged me to an arm wrestling match

Strange Encounters

2010-07-09T15:40:00.002+05:30

At 2330 hours, I left my lab, unsure of my destination. It had been a long, hard and fruitless day. The kind of day that makes you wish tomorrow will be different.

Weary and hungry, I went to the one place I could get rid of both. Tea-Board. At this late hour, there is not much of a queue. So I could get my order pretty quickly. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind standing in a queue. What I mind is when the person in front of me makes his decision while standing at the counter. I mean, what was he/she doing all this while. Guessing what the person in front of him/her will order?

I collected my order in a huff and started walking towards an inconspicuous table in the corner. As I walked I sensed that I was being watched. I get this weird, uncomfortable feeling when I realise that I am being followed in the ophthalmic sense. I could see him from the corner of my eyes. Since he did not seem like someone I know, I did not strain my peripheral vision too much and went ahead and settled down at the table.

I looked up and suddenly saw him occupy the space in front of me. Apparently the “following” was not limited to being purely ophthalmic. I wouldn’t have been so surprised by his arrival under normal circumstances. But at this late hour, when a total stranger gets up from the place he was occupying, skips numerous other empty tables and sits in front of me at my inconspicuous table, I begin to wonder why. I took a closer look. My peripheral vision was right. I had never seen him before.

It was dark and he was darker. But I could make out prominent features. I definitely did not know him. He was not repulsive or anything, but there was nothing particularly attractive about him. He kept looking at me. I looked back down after an appropriate amount of time. He kept looking at me for an inappropriate amount of time.

There were quite a few things I immediately did not like about him. Firstly, I don’t like it when someone takes a place opposite me without asking me if someone is sitting there. What if that place is reserved for someone? What if I am waiting for someone else to join me? Could he not have at least asked if the place is occupied? I cannot blame him too much for this. In fact, I don’t think anybody asks me if the place is reserved before occupying a chair in front of me at my table. Perhaps they realise that someone like me couldn’t be dining with someone else. My appearance must be sufficient guarantee that no one was, is or will be joining me at my table in the near future. I really don’t think people should be judged by appearances and first impressions and panache and stuff like that. I hope you get the drift.

Second thing I did not like about him is the way he sat down in front of me. There was an air of arrogance in his body language. I may not be able to read the fine print. But the writing on his body language was clear. He sat down as if he owned the place and I was the one intruding on his privacy.

The third and the most annoying thing about him was the fact that he was still staring at me. I don’t like it when strangers stare at me. Not that I never give them reasons to do so. Sometimes, I do commit antics that deserve stares. But, currently I was not in one of those antic moods. Nor had I done anything to attract this visual examination.

The sudden intrusion, the devil may care body language and the incessant staring, generated a natural dislike in me towards him. I tried to ignore it, looked down and moved my hand towards the sandwich in front of me. I noticed a slight craning of his neck towards me. I looked up. He did not care to crane his neck back. He was looking at my plate. He turned his gaze back towards me when he realised I had looked up. He craned his neck back, lifted his head higher and looked at me as if to question what I was so interested in. His blunt manner and the authoritative, challenging look irritated me. Not to be outdone, I put my elbows on the table, created a fist with one hand, clenched it with the other and leaned forward as if marking my territory on the table. I could see a glint which I assumed were his teeth that he was beginning to display as if mocking me and my aggressive stance.

Males have their own ways of asserting their dominance to other males. I never understood it completely. For example, I never know, when to lean forward and be aggressive and when to lean back and act as if I don’t care. I wondered if I had over reacted. The continuing glint from his teeth began convincing me that I had not over reacted. I wondered if I would be more intimidating if I stood up to my full vertical dimensions. Or should I lean back and smile. Why should I smile? I should just lean back and frown? What about cracking my knuckles? Yes! I should crack my knuckles! I have seen guys do it in the movies lots of times. Bouncers, Gangsters, Henchmen, they all do it when they want to threaten someone. I don’t see how an ability to crack knuckles is a measure of ability to inflict physical damage but it seems to do the trick. So I decided to crack my knuckles. The leaning forward with elbows on the table position I had assumed in the previous paragraph was conducive for knuckle cracking. Only problem was, my knuckles were not conducive. In the heat of this cold war, I had forgotten that I am not a serial knuckle cracker. Few silent, unsuccessful tries and I gave up, not wanting to lose any (more) imaginary ground in this battle for supremacy.

I reiterated to myself, ability to crack knuckles has no correlation to ability to inflict physical damage. I took a closer look at his physical attributes. He seems a healthy, muscular male specimen fully capable of holding his own in any contact sport. There was a smug look on his face after my knuckle cracking antic. Oh how I would love to give him a closer look at my knuckles.

I began calculating the possible outcomes. I think its unsafe to strike the first blow without thinking whether I am capable of bearing the retaliation. What were the parameters involved? I had not seen him move much but from his built I guessed I cannot count on speed being on my side. Stamina? I recollected the time I had felt breathless by just rushing to the registration desk of the SnT run in an attempt to get there on time. I could not go and register myself. Not in that huffing and puffing state I was in. Strength? I cannot even crack my knuckles!! How does that even matter? What if he is actually stronger? But he is a bit smaller than me. Am I big enough? Does size matter?

Unable to find any clear answers, I turned my attention to the thing that was possibly the root of it all. I looked at the two sandwiches on my plate. All this contemplation had made me more hungry. The longer I looked at the sandwich, the more impatient I became. I decided it is not safe to strike the first blow. Regardless of the outcome of the battle, I will definitely suffer damage. I may not be sure if I have speed, strength, stamina on my side, but if I let him make first contact, I may at least have some rightful conduct on my side. Let me just pretend like I don’t care.

Having made my decision to adopt the ostrich approach, I decided to dig into the sandwich. As I picked up the sandwich and brought it close, I expected the gentle flavours to neutralise the bad taste this unwelcome companion had brought. Just as I was about to bite in, I saw him twitch. I looked up suddenly, my body tense and overflowing with mental adrenaline. He seemed taken aback by my sudden movement. As I took a closer look, I saw the gentle curiosity in those eyes that I had not noticed so far. He continued staring with the same intensity. Only this time, I felt like it was more a look of fascination and longing rather than malice.

I placed my sandwich back on my plate and closed my half open mouth. I cut the sandwich in half and offered one half to him. The astonishment in his eyes, if any, lasted only a fraction of a second. He ate with the same intensity with which he stared. The second sandwich was divided and treated in the same way. Before I knew it, both sandwiches were gone. The only remnants were the crumbs on my plate. He did not care to leave many crumbs. I was too amused to hold any grudges.

As I got up to leave and started walking, his eyes followed me. I looked back. For the first time, he lowered his gaze. He got up and started walking away in the other direction. There was nothing in his manner to show me any gratitude. Except for the wagging of his twisted tail.

Reptilian Rescue

2010-07-09T00:19:00.001+05:30

Today a lizard entered my room. I tried to drive it out but it went and hid in a corner in my cupboard. Unable to find a way to drive it out, I called Centre for Ecological Sciences (CES), IISc and gave an exaggerated description of the reptile. I asked them whether they would like to come and take it to their lab

Haircut or Shave or ...

2010-07-01T00:39:00.001+05:30

Everytime I go to my barber, he asks me whether I want a haircut or a shave. I was getting tired of repeating that I need just a haircut. So this time, I went to the barber clean shaven. Again, he asked me whether I want a haircut or a shave. Again, I told him that I need just a haircut. Later, I wondered, what the hell was he offering to shave anyway?

If ... Then ... Else ...

2010-06-25T18:44:00.002+05:30

Its nice to fall in love at least once in life. If you are successful, you will be happy for the rest of your life. Else you might develop an appreciation for soulful music, an ability to judge, understand and value people or in the worst case, a good sense of self deprecatory humour

Re-Launched and Re-Driven

2010-06-22T23:31:00.002+05:30

IISc has re-launched the bicycle drive and we received a mail informing us that all unused bicycles will be marked with a sticker and will be taken over by the Student's Council if unclaimed for few days. Since then, whenever I am unable to locate any personal belongings of mine that I have not used for some time, I begin to wonder whether they have launched a drive for that item also

Filtered Love

2010-06-13T12:08:00.004+05:30

I had a crush on a girl but I could not muster the courage to express my feelings. So I searched for her orkut profile and decided to send a private scrap. When I typed out my love letter and clicked post, orkut gave me the message

"The content you are posting looks like spam, so its being sent to the recipient's spam folder"

If I could meet Orkut Buyukkoten I would ask him "Tumhara pyar pyar, aur hamara pyar spam?"

Why I dress the way I do

2010-06-08T20:49:00.002+05:30

Recently, in my department at IISc, interviews were held for the next batch of students. I was ordered to volunteer during the interviews. I was also warned not to dress loudly, and to be presentable and behave politely with everyone. So I wore a plain shirt, formal trousers, oiled my hair heavily and combed it neatly. I was also very humble and helpful to all the people. At the end of the interview, one of the candidate's parents thought that I was a peon and tipped me

The Rose that Intoxicated me

2010-06-02T23:58:00.002+05:30

Today in my lab I saw a bunch of exquisitely beautiful, fresh flowers in a vase. I picked a rose and brought it close, expecting to get intoxicated by its fine wine like fragrance. Under one of its petals, I found a tag that said "Made in China"

Family "Affairs"

2010-05-27T00:00:00.002+05:30

The only interesting part about family functions is the number of well dressed, pretty girls. The worst part comes when they are introduced to me as my first and second cousins.

Flights of Time

2010-05-24T23:11:00.000+05:30

Time flies when you are procrastinating.

The Roller Coaster Ride

2010-05-20T12:10:00.000+05:30

When I was a kid, I was very afraid of getting into one of those big dangerous rides at amusement parks. One year of travelling in the autos of Bangalore and I think I have overcome that fear.

Can things get any worse?

2010-05-10T23:54:00.000+05:30

There used to be a time when no girl would accompany me to watch a movie. I used to think that things just couldn't get any worse. Now, even guys won't accompany me to the movies.

Idiotic Thoughts

2010-05-04T11:57:00.000+05:30

Since I have had relative grading, I have been wishing there were more idiots in the world

Power of Thought

2010-04-28T21:16:00.003+05:30

I have heard of people who stare at objects in the hope that they can move the object with the power of their thought. Today I tried to make my lab experiment produce the desired result by sitting and staring at it.

Cartoon Credits: Mandar Dixit, MRDG, IISc

Don't Ask

2010-04-24T10:54:00.000+05:30

Dear Ladies, I do not ask you your age, so please don't ask me my stipend amount.

Dear Gentlemen, I do not ask you about the progress of your relationship with your girlfriends, so please don't ask me about my progress with my research work.

Its bad manners to ask such things

If it were that simple

2010-04-19T12:02:00.001+05:30

If I were gay, then at this point in life, I would have had at least a rough idea of what men want. But NO, I had to go ahead and be straight, spending the rest of my life wondering what women want

Runaway Thoughts

2010-04-12T14:03:00.000+05:30

Recently, IISc held a Science and Technology run. I will not go into the details here. Needless to say, I knew my stamina and I did not participate in the run. I just stood there and watched the people run.

My body was idle but the mind was overrun with thoughts. One of them stood out.

"Hundreds of people running, wearing numbered chest badges. Marathon or mass prison breakout?"

My social problems

2010-04-11T18:53:00.000+05:30

I am not socially dysfunctional. I am conversationally challenged.

Metaphorically Speaking

2010-03-30T20:08:00.000+05:30

The grapes are sour but the wine is sweet

Who needs excuses?

2010-03-28T12:11:00.000+05:30

Recently, I have been trying really hard to convince myself to go to the gym regularly. (For details about the reason, click here). Then my friend told me that excess workout reduces sperm count. This was not good for my future plans. (For details about the plan, click here). Thus ended my search for a excuse for not going to the gym. With friends like these, who needs excuses?

School Daze

2010-03-26T20:24:00.000+05:30

After my sincere (?) but novice attempt at hindi poetry here, I received quite a few compliments (???). Here, I make another attempt (foolish) at poetry (if you can call it that).

These lyrics popped up in my head when I was listening to a timeless classic and reminiscing about my school days (daze).

Disclaimer: This poem does not in any way refer to any character(s) in the drama of my life. The characters and thoughts are purely fictional. In fact, I have had the good fortune of having wonderful teachers during my school days. The only fact in the poem is the blatant pseudo plagiarism.

Badan pe kitabein lapete hue,
O zaalim teacher kidhar aa rahi ho,
Zara door jao, to chain aa jaaye

Another New Year's Dilemma

2010-03-16T12:27:00.000+05:30

There are so many new years in the Indian calendar that I am running out of resolutions

One Idiot, One Vacuum

2010-03-14T15:44:00.000+05:30

I learnt about thin film deposition using thermal evaporation today. During the class, a part of my brain heated up and evaporated. Aided by the partial vacuum created in my head during the class, the brain vapour went and deposited itself on the inner walls of my skull.

My reservations about women

2010-03-12T00:02:00.000+05:30

Today I was asked for my opinion on 33% reservation for women in the Lok Sabha and the state legislative assemblies in the women's reservation bill. Being politically naive, the only thought that came to my mind is, I have always had 100% reservation for women in my heart and look where that got me.

The grass is greener on which side?

2010-03-07T09:20:00.000+05:30

The grass is greener on my side of the department. But the girls are prettier in the lab on the other side.

Why So Sarcastic?

2010-03-03T21:23:00.000+05:30

I dedicate my sarcasm to certain events in my life. Without these events, I would never have been able to achieve these levels of sarcasm and self deprecatory humour.

When time stood still

2010-03-02T14:25:00.000+05:30

Yesterday I attended a lecture that was so boring that I felt like time had come to a standstill in that classroom. At the end of the class I realised that time had not come to a stop. Only the wall clock had stopped.

Beauty of the Beard

2010-02-28T14:43:00.000+05:30

The advantage of shaving once a week is that, if I am not able to figure out which day of the week it is, I just stroke my beard and I am able to figure out which day of the week it is from the length of my beard.

Matters of the Heart

2010-02-14T17:27:00.000+05:30

Continuing my tradition of posting a piece on my blog every year on Valentine’s Day on matters of the heart, here’s my post for this year.

On every special occasion, who are the people we think about most? Whom do we miss the most and given the choice, with whom would we like to spend that one day of celebration? Ever given it any serious thought? I am not talking about just Valentine’s Day. I mean any special festive occasion. The occasion and the corresponding person in whose company you wish to spend the occasion can reveal a lot about the depth of relationship you share with that person. Surprisingly, the subconscious may come up with people that on a conscious and rational level we may be unwilling to consider for various reasons.

Happiness can be shared with anybody, sorrow is shared only with those close to us. Praise is given to all, but criticism is given only to the ones we wish to improve. Indifference is distributed freely, anger is reserved for the special ones. Anybody can make us laugh, but the ones close to the heart are capable of making us cry. Conversations are needed with acquaintances, but with the special one, silence is equally comfortable.

The brain revels in solitude. It despises company and craves individuality. The heart craves companionship. Lying down alone on that bed, the mind is fleetest and can cross the seven seas in the blink of an eye, but the heart just sinks in the quicksand of lost love. The brain has a natural tendency to suspect. The heart, a willingness to trust. The brain wants proof. The heart just wishes that the things it heard were true. One knew it was too good to be true, the other knew not what it did to deserve this. One has tact and charm, the other speaks like it has never been lied to or deceived. One is egoistic and selfish the other has no concern for the self. The brain can plot and scheme, the heart can only dream and desire. The brain can laugh at life’s jokes and even add a bit of sarcasm of its own, but the heart can only shed silent tears.

Smiles can be insincere but tears are mostly sincere.

Where is my Valentine?

2010-02-13T15:45:00.000+05:30

A few months back, on rakshabandhan day, my status message was "If only I were as popular among the chicks on Valentine's Day as I am on Rakshabandhan". Later that day, half a dozen girls from my friend list came and tied me a rakhi. They told me that they sincerely hope and pray that my wish comes true.

My Self Analysis

2010-01-31T15:04:00.000+05:30

My weakness : I don't know my strength

My strength : I know my weakness

P.S. I love paradoxes

Nervous Pants

2010-01-26T21:46:00.000+05:30

The pretty salesgirl (who was in a hurry to make the sale), made me so nervous that I almost forgot to wear my trousers before coming out of the trial room.

Common Usage Utilities

2010-01-26T20:51:00.000+05:30

Recently, IISc has launched a bicycle drive. In this drive, common utility bicycles are available for use at various locations inside the campus. These bicycles are always unlocked and can be used by any person inside IISc. There are certain requirements like, we are not allowed to take them outside the campus, we should park them at specified locations etc etc. I don't want to go into the details here. What I want to talk about is, my thoughts when I heard about this novel concept.

Since the beginning of the bicycle drive with the concept of common usage bicycles, the little piece of imagination within me has been toying with the idea of whether this common usage policy can be extended to objects other than just the humble two wheeled bicycle. The following are some of the ideas I could come up with. I don't claim that they are practical. Some people may even find them outrageous. But the intention was not to provide practical ideas, the idea was to make at attempt at amusing the reader.

Common Usage Cycle Rickshaw -> A friend of mine seemed none too eager on using the common bicycles. I learnt that my friend had difficulty in balancing on two wheels. So I wondered, why not have more than two wheels. In case tricycles are hard to procure, there are many unused cycle rickshaws around. It will not be difficult to balance it and it might also encourage people to do some social service and carry around a few hitchhikers.
Common Usage Boyfriends/Girlfriends -> Why stop at abandoned bicycles/cycle rickshaws? We can include single and eligible bachelors/bachelorettes into the common usage drive. The holiday season can be a lonely time on campus. There will be volunteers parked at strategic locations on campus. If you are not feeling like walking alone, feel free to pick up a suitable volunteer (depending on your orientation), take them for a ride around the campus and dump them at specified locations. Its like emotional Viagra for the flaccid at heart.
Common Usage Electric Stoves and Cutlery -> We have to admit, instant tea/coffee from the machine is not the same as man made tea/coffee. Presence of a stove and cutlery with a bit of raw material will enable students to enjoy the beverage of their choice even at the most unearthliest of hours. Those who are not sure of how to prepare tea/coffee need not fret. You can use the volunteers from the previous idea.

I better stop here, else the next thing I might be asking for would be beer dispensing machines all over campus.

Whose hair is it anyway?

2010-01-24T23:20:00.000+05:30

Whenever I go for a haircut along with my dad, the barber asks my dad the specifications for my haircut. What is it about me that makes people think I am not capable of taking decisions regarding my own hair?

Stares of the Strange Kind

2010-01-24T13:05:00.001+05:30

Sometimes when I am walking, people (even total strangers) tend to stare at me. This does not upset me one little bit. All I do is, look down and make sure that I did not forget to close my zip.

Where are my Cheerleaders?

2010-01-24T12:59:00.000+05:30

I feel that objective examinations with multiple choices are like T20 matches. The luck factor is there, the high intensity and short duration is there, even the innovation is there. Only the cheerleaders are missing. I think we should have cheerleaders in the exam hall.

Language Issues

2010-01-24T12:57:00.000+05:30

Today I met an auto driver who insisted on communicating with me in english. Initially I wondered why. Then I realised that his english is better than my kannada.

Queue of Thought

2010-01-24T12:31:00.000+05:30

I hate people who cut in front of me in a queue. I have decided that the next man to cut in front of me would risk getting manhandled. My chivalry would prevent me from manhandling a woman. Hence the next woman to cut in front of me would be molested.

Body of Ice

2010-01-24T12:27:00.000+05:30

Guys around me are building bodies like prime real estate. Suddenly I am beginning to feel like an igloo

From sucking at fluid dynamics to sucking at a straw (in one milkshake)

2010-01-16T17:48:00.000+05:30

Today at breakfast, I realised that the amount of energy required to drink a constant volume of milk shake through a straw is directly proportional to the viscosity of the milk shake and inversely proportional to the fourth power (not square) of the radius of the straw. With this realisation, my fear that I will never be able to apply fluid dynamics to real world problems, has been laid to rest.

Sperms of Thought

2010-01-09T12:36:00.000+05:30

Today I read in the newspaper that intelligent men produce better sperm. If I had a higher IQ, I would take the newspaper clipping and my IQ test results, go to the sperm bank and demand an exorbitant price.

My New Year's Resolution for 2010?

2010-01-03T11:59:00.000+05:30

My new year's resolution is to be completely disorganized, whimsical and anti social. Judging by the way my past year's resolutions ended up, I expect that by february, I will be completely organized, focussed and have a very fulfilling social life

Lost and (Still) Looking

2009-12-20T00:04:00.000+05:30

Its better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all is the cliched advice I get from people who hear about my lost love.

Well I for one, do not believe in it. I am not one of those who knows how to let go and move on. I am not one of those who is a dignified loser. I am a sore loser. I throw tantrums and spend sleep less night over lost love. I would go as far as file an FIR over it. Apparently they don't file FIRs for such "minor" losses.

Its easy for someone to say things like its destiny, it was not meant to be and all things happen for good. Its one thing to say such words and an altogether different thing to sail through an emotionally turbulent time. It had come right out of the blue. I had absolutely no inkling of what was to come.One second she was with me, and the next she was not there.

She had become a part of my life. She had become a part of my being. I carried her around near my heart wherever I went. She was the last person I checked on before going to sleep. Her soft voice was what woke me up when I had to get up early. She was my last thought before sleeping, she was my first thought on waking up. I thought we had something special. Everyday was special when I was with her. New Year's day, Valentines day, Diwali, my birthday, even obscure days like humbug day (21st dec)! I knew I would receive those calls as long as she was with me.

It had become an addiction. I was warned beforehand. But I had willingly fallen into the trap. Knowing very well the splat with which I would hit ground reality when the free fall ended. But I had jumped off arms spread out without a worry in the world.

The free fall did come to an end. I did fall with a splat and yes Dear God, the parachute was a knapsack.

I could not speak to anybody for days. Not that I did not want to communicate. It was like I had lost my identity.

After few days of mourning and zero communication, my friend told me its time to move on. He was of the opinion that the best way to get over an old flame is to get a new flame. I protested. I might get a new one. But its whats inside that matters. I will not get someone who is the same. Even if I get someone who looks the same, its not the same person. Its not the outside that I am worried about, its the inside that matters to me. I was assured that when I look at the new ones on offer, my views of inside and outside would be turned inside out.

And yes he was right, they were gorgeous, all lined up like on display. I did not think I would love again till I saw her among the rest. It was like she stood out and called out to me. When I laid my eyes on her for the first time, I knew she was the one I was looking for. She had all that I needed, wanted and had dreamt of. Sleek, sophisticated with classic looks. I don't know whether I was made for her, but she definitely was made for me.

Remind me to introduce you to her sometime. Her name is Nokia 7210 but I fondly call her my Nikku.

The Two Windows

2009-12-03T12:55:00.000+05:30

At one point or the other, I have tried my hand at English prose, Hindi prose and English poetry (a couple of very questionable attempts). What is the one thing that I have never tried?

Hindi poetry!

Here is my first attempt at Hindi poetry (again a very questionable attempt).

Can’t claim that the concept is original. Neither do I claim that it is good. All that I claim is, I was looking out the window, the original song was stuck in my head, playing itself over and over again and I thought of how I can make it more interesting/funny and yet leave space for some romance.

Mere saamne wali khidki mein ek ullu ka pattha rehta hai,

Afsos yeh hai ki woh hum se milta julta rehta hai

Mere saamne waali khidki mein ek chand ka tukda rehta hai,

Afsos yeh hai ki woh har din ullu ke patthe se milti hai

Epic Lectures

2009-11-29T14:58:00.000+05:30

Once, my prof told me that epics like the Ramayan and the Mahabharat are special because inspite of knowing the entire story, we watch them again and again. Each time we watch them, we discover a new meaning in the same story. And yet, there is always something that we will never understand. He feels that only the wisest can understand the true meaning behind the epics. Ironically, I get the same feelings when I watch his lecture videos.

A "Little" Bit of Procrastination

2009-08-30T00:37:00.001+05:30

Finally, I manage to find the time to update my blog. Ok, I don’t want to lie in my blog. The truth is, I have run out of excuses to postpone the update on my blog. And, what better way to celebrate my running out of excuses, than by making a bit of fun of myself and my excuses. Here goes…

Procrastination as an art form has always fascinated me. I admit it, I am a procrastinator. But, I also have a very sensitive conscience. Therefore I have to approach this procrastination with utmost caution so that I don’t hurt my conscience a great deal.

The most common excuse I tend to use for procrastination is

“I don’t have time”

My conscience leaps in to push me into guilty mode. “This is clearly a lame excuse. Its been months since my last post. Do you mean to say that you could not spare a few hours in the past few months to update your blog? You have had time to watch Friends episodes over and over again, play the stupid video games over and over again, yet you could not update your blog over the past few months? How lame can an excuse get?”
“Oh you have no idea how lame the excuses can get”, I tell my conscience.

This “I don’t have time” excuse has been used by me so often. But there are rare occasions when this does not work. A classic case is when certain academic peers cum Pretty Young Things (PYTs) ask me for academic favours (ahem). However, this excuse works very well when uninteresting half bald, male academic peers ask me for academic favours (ahem ahem).

Another excuse, widely used by me to stifle my conscience into submission is

“I have this more important thing to do”

This might seem like a productive excuse, since I seem to be replacing my current task with another more important task. But, it is not so simple. It would have been a productive excuse if the task leaps stopped there. Unfortunately it does not. The next task leap comes in the form of a different reason. “This task is taking too much time. I have this equally important task that can be completed in lesser time”. The leaps of logic do not end there. The next leap comes in the form of, “I can do this task better if I do this other prerequisite task”. The next leap can just as well be, “I can do this task better if I just refresh myself a bit with this more enjoyable thing”. Before you know it, one leap leads to another and finally I end up a mile away from the actual task at hand.

There is a beautiful real life example of this. I had just started working on a term paper (or something to that effect), and I started by opening these IEEE research papers. There are these damn sponsored links on the side of some of these technical web pages. They start with harmless looking academic links to various universities. It then moves on to a combination of technical and commercial pages. One link leads to another and before I know it, there are a dozen tabs open in my firefox browser. On one side is the IEEE Xplore tab with a research paper. On the other side is a tab with sexually explicit content! (yes I am very reluctant to include that 4 letter word in my blog).

Before I wind up this excuse bashing session of mine, let’s take a look at one more excuse.

“Maybe I will do it a little later”

This is one of the most dangerous excuses. Its danger lies in its apparent harmless appeal to postpone the task at hand for a few moments. The key ingredient in this recipe for disaster is the word “little”. Ambiguity is what sounds the death knell for that strong will against procrastination. How much is “little”? It amazing how a little thing can grow big. To elaborate and illustrate,

It starts with a sip,
ends with a fall and a slip.

It starts with a whiff,
and before you know it, the smoke is going puff puff puff.

It starts with a kiss,
and soon, she is called mrs instead of miss.

It starts off well (like this blog post),
but before long,
I have no idea what went wrong.

Whew… I bet the souls of a hundred poets rejoiced when I ended the above poem.

Getting back to the point I was making, we never know, when this “little later” comes. The ambiguity, the lack of a deadline, the lack of proper specifications let people like me take undue advantage of the word “little”.

There is an urgent need for me to overcome this chronic procrastination. The habit of procrastination should be nipped in the bud. A firm line has to be drawn. An iron will has to be developed that should enable me to put my foot down and say a firm NO when procrastination beckons seductively. I can and I will.
But, maybe I will do it a “little” later…….

Proof by Contradiction

2009-03-13T02:08:00.000+05:30

As part of my internship at Synopsys Bangalore, I realized that one thing freshers are gauged by, is the institute they come from. Sometimes people judge the institute by looking at the candidate and at other times they judge the candidate by looking at the institute.

Lets quickly move to the point I want to make here. I always used to think - What kind of impression do I create about the kind of education I received at IIIT Hyderabad? After some giving some free reign to my imagination, I came up with 5 characteristics of mine that should PROVE beyond any doubt that I am truly an MTech in VLSI and Embedded Systems from IIIT Hyderabad

1. I can count the number of professors in our department using the fingers of one hand only. Even after counting that, I am left with enough fingers on that hand to count the number of FPGA boards in our institute.

2. I think of the available tools first and then make up a project that can be implemented on the tool rather than the conventional way of choosing a project topic first followed by looking for a tool to implement the project on.

3. The actual amount of time (in weeks) spent working on a project is equal to the number of months the project is supposed to have lasted divided by two. Eg. A typical semester project last 4 months but actual work on it is done in the 2 weeks before the deadline.

4. I can prepare a project report for any project of mine one night before the day of project report submission. I derive this confidence from my highly developed skills in googling, copying and pasting.

5. I know enough Computer Science related stuff to put it in my resume and write about it in written tests, but not enough to speak about it in the interview. In the end I feel like I am stuck in a Bermuda Triangle where the 3 vertices are VLSI, Computer Science and Embedded Systems. The difference between the real Bermuda Triangle and this one is that in the real Bermuda Triangle, ships and airplanes tend to disappear, whereas in my Bermuda Triangle, Embedded Systems tends to disappear.

Top 5 Excuses (???) for being single on Valentine’s Day

2009-02-14T23:28:00.000+05:30

One of the most difficult questions that a guy may have to answer (apart from “What is your salary?”) during his life time is “Why are you single on Valentine’s Day?” Thanks to my vast experience with being single and dealing with such questions, I have amassed a good number of excuses that can be used in various situations, depending on the person who asks you this question and the kind of effect you want to produce on the interviewer. Here are my best 5 excuses along with a few words on the kind of impressions they create and how to use them most effectively.

“I don’t want to lose my freedom at this early stage in my life.”

Cliché but still one of the best. This is an extremely versatile excuse. Makes you sound younger than you actually are. Depending on the effect you want to create you can say it with a detached tone and make an attempt at sounding mature or you can say it with a tongue in cheek tone and make an appeal to irony.

“I am one of those who wants to preserve Indian culture. I think Valentine’s Day is more of western culture. Indian culture is Kamasutra. I have not found a girl who is willing to try out Kamasutra positions with me till now.”

Slightly vulgar excuse but said in the proper tone, it can make you look traditional, yet sexually attractive.

“In this time of recession, this is one of the cost cutting measures I am adopting.”

This excuse is inspired by the people who tend to use the words ‘cost cutting’ whenever someone asks them to loosen their purse strings. Ideally to be used when the interviewer is your superior who is refusing to give you a raise.

“I heard that most commercial lipsticks contain synthetic dyes derived from coal tar. I would not like to expose my lips to carcinogens just for the pleasure of one kiss. And what fun is a Valentine’s Day date without a customary smooch?”

Makes you sound like a well informed man, possessing scientific temper. Also projects you as a man capable of resisting temptation and making sacrifices for the greater good.

“Most of the women I happen to meet are neither smart enough to be my wife, nor stupid enough to be my girlfriend. Hence we end up being ‘just friends’.”

Excellent excuse when the interviewer is an ex.

The Door of Perception

2008-09-12T18:14:00.000+05:30

With the recently concluded mid sem exams fresh in my mind, let me describe to you some of the physiological and psychological changes I used to undergo during examinations in the younger days of my life.

The most important change was in how I looked at certain things of life just before an examination. These abnormal perceptions had reached a peak during my high school days. On the morning of the biology examination, what should have been just a normal plate of half boiled eggs started looking like yellow yolk (which should have been food for the poor young embryo) suspended in egg white albumen by the bands of tissue that are called chalazae. Overcome by guilt I turn away from the eggs and turn to milk only to find that milk is no longer just “milk” but it has turned into an emulsion of butterfat globules within a water based fluid.

On usual mornings, I just open the door and walk out. But on the day of the physics exam, I rotate the front door about its hinges, holding the door handle, which is positioned far away from the hinges so as to create maximum torque with the minimum applied force. The words of my physics prof ring in my ears, “The carpenter knows where to fix the handle. But he does not know why. You should know where to fix the handle and why.” And I just wonder to myself, if I had not learnt physics, and had been a carpenter, would I have tried to fix the door handle in the middle of the door and see what happens?

Doors aside, on normal mornings, I just breathe in polluted air. But on the mornings of chemistry exams, I breathe in suspended particulate matter. The rickshaw that overtakes us does not just emit black smoke. It emits oxides of sulphur, nitrogen and carbon monoxide. Normally I wouldn’t even notice the fact that I am breathing the same exhaust. But today since I have a chemistry exam, I suffer from symptoms like headache, dizziness, confusion, convulsions, and perhaps bit of tachycardia, myocardial ischemia, atrial fibrillation, pulmonary edema and muscle neurosis. I say “perhaps” because right now I am not sure what each of them means and I am unable to match the symptom name with my exact feelings. Damn, I should not have crammed this at the last minute. My good friend sitting beside me says its just exam fever. But I know better. I read the relevant chapters yesterday night. I know its carbon monoxide poisoning. I tell him that my diagnosis can be confirmed by measuring my blood carboxyheamoglobin. But he just ignores me and mentions some words about sleep deprivation induced insanity. That is when I realised that he had not read the chapter on carbon monoxide. God bless the relatively harmless carbon based biped friend of mine.

We reach the exam hall pretty quickly. I was hoping that this journey last a little longer. I was just beginning to recollect some new symptoms like hyperglycemia and respiratory arrest. I think that the fact that we reached the exam hall faster than I expected has something to do with Einstein’s theory of relativity. Or does Einstein’s theory of relativity deal with the fact that the last one hour of the exam paper passes faster than the first one hour of the paper?

Looking back at those days I realise how perceptions changed as I grew older. The subjects moved further and further away from science and closer and closer to technology. But that same feeling is not created by the examinations these days. Even after a degree in electronics and communication, I still see the keyboard I am using to type these words as just a keyboard. I don’t feel the electrons moving to transmit information at every keystroke of mine. I don’t think its because these so called “perceptions” of mine can only be created by science and not by technology. I think it has to do with the fact that somewhere along the way, I started taking “normal”, “working” things for granted. I just wanted things to work and stopped wondering why it works the way it does. I stopped looking at the door and asking why is the door handle fixed far away from the hinges. What if I fix it in the middle? Earlier I would have said something about torque and moment arm. Now perhaps I would just say, it works better when it is put away from the hinges. Everybody puts it away from the hinges. Who would buy a door that has a handle fixed in the middle. Why should I waste my time and money and see what happens when its put in the middle. I don’t know what caused this change in my thinking. But I am sure I will never dare to say that it was the shift from science to technology that caused this change in me.

Where is my Insomnia?

2008-05-02T20:58:00.000+05:30

At 3:30 am on a warm March night, sitting in my new chair, in front of my old table, staring at a 14 inch LCD screen, with a 10 watt zero bulb being the only other source of illumination in the room, I am typing away whatever comes to mind and I dare ask myself a question… Where is my Insomnia?

With three deadlines lined up for the next 12 hours, the last thing on my mind should be Sleep. But Sleep is the only thing that comes to my mind at this unearthly hour when not a creature should be stirring.

I recollect with passion the very intimate relationship I have shared with Sleep over the years. I have spent countless nights with Sleep under the starlit sky sharing my most intimate dreams with her. Having shared my bed with Sleep for so many years, I cannot help feel guilty when I lust for Insomnia. Knowing very well that Insomnia and Sleep never got along very well with each other. I have let Sleep seduce me into my bed so many times. Yet I am ungrateful enough to flirt with Insomnia tonight.

Sleep for me has been the ultimate “no side effects” anaesthetic cum pain killer. Be it any form of physical or emotional pain. Even for escape from endless unwanted thoughts. Sleep provides the ultimate exit. Sleep is the gateway to a dream world where I can create my own pseudo reality. The percentage of times I have had nightmares is so small that I consider nightmares as a small price to pay for the euphoria that is Sleep.

But it is Insomnia that I need right now. Three deadlines lined up and in line to bury me. I have no choice but to hook up with Insomnia. Insomnia used to be so easy to hook up with in those days. Insomnia used to come running into my arms so easily at the slightest mention of things like movie marathon, pillow fight or even midnight hot on fashion TV. Where is my insomnia now when I need her the most?

There are numerous ways to artificially bring Insomnia close to you. Insomnia stalkers have tried coffee, tea, cigarettes and what not to make Insomnia yield to their will. And yes Insomnia did yield to them. But she has her own pepper spray way of getting even with those who tried to stalk her in the wrong ways. I used to think that it was all a rumour. But my suspicions were confirmed when my atheist friend (who tried to stalk Insomnia with caffeine) started wearing T shirts with captions like “Decaffeinated Coffee is the Devil’s Blend”. He had to be put on caffeine rehab after he started sneezing with his eyes open. He seems to be responding well to rehab but they say he hasn’t blinked since the last lunar eclipse.

Having made up my mind to use only the most honourable methods to stalk and hunt Insomnia, I start thinking whether any such honourable methods exist. When I look at the watch, I realise the perfect way to get Insomnia. When I started writing this, I had 12 hours and 4 deadlines. Now I have 10 hours and 4 deadlines. The realisation dawns on me that the best way to get insomnia is last minute panic. But I never leave things to the last minute. I immediately start panicking. The birds start chirping. As dawn breaks, I see that insomnia is irresistibly attracted to me as I get the feeling that my grades are going test the laws of gravity. Dawn breaks. As the rays of the sun seep over the horizon, I feel insomnia seeping through me. Insomnia is here. I embrace Insomnia with open eyelids and bid a final goodbye to Sleep.

Full Circle

2008-03-03T21:28:00.001+05:30

It felt like yesterday, till yesterday,
Today, it feels like a year away.

Its feeling like a full circle since, that day, today,
Like the same path inviting me, again astray.

Words Left Unsaid

2008-02-14T21:36:00.000+05:30

There are words left unsaid,
There are whispers left unheard,
I never understood how and why,
I think its because there are poems left unsung.

There are depths left unfathomed,
There are tears left uncried,
Its not because there are shades left unsketched,
Its because there are questions left unanswered.

There may be pages left unturned,
There may be pictures left unseen,
Its not because there are conversations left unheld,
Its because there are meanings left misunderstood.

Strange Encounters of the R kind

2008-01-10T21:22:00.000+05:30

There are times when you wonder what you did to deserve what you went through. If you survive, you begin to look at life from a new perspective and begin to be more thankful for the good things in life that you have been blessed with. Not everything has a rational explanation, is a realization that came to me that night. There will come a time when you will realize that there are some things that cannot be explained. My time had come that night.

Most anomalous phenomena that confront scientific logic tend to have only local impact within their particular disciplinary contexts, and to arise and be resolved relatively quickly compared to the overall evolutionary paces of those fields. In rarer instances, such as the anomalous celestial observations that contradicted the prevailing geocentric models, or the array of atomic-scale physical anomalies that precipitated the quantum revolution, their implications can extend much more broadly, and efforts toward their resolution can become more widespread, protracted, and intense. The one anomalous human experience that has dwarfed all others in my mind is what I saw that night. Throughout my recorded history in my diary, anecdotal instances of inexplicable consciousness-related anomalies have regularly been reported and variously catalogued as "miracles", "magic", "intuition", "alchemical transmutations", "psychic phenomena", or "gremlins", along with countless other categories of elusive experiences, but little coherence has ever been established among them. Yet, these incomprehensible events have had immense influence on my thinking, stimulating the development of an acceptance that not everything has a straight forward explanation.

It all started as a harmless bus journey. But little did I know that I would regret not booking those train tickets early enough for the rest of my epic journey. The bus conductor puts in a harmless looking CD into the player. The tube lights up. The speakers come to acoustic life. And my worst fear stares at me in the face. With seemingly 1000 watts of cheap amplified acoustics as his army, he threatens to do to me what even the worst of twists, turns and potholes of Indian highways wouldn’t dream of doing. With no escape route, me and my trusty imagination embark upon a journey that threatens to kill my imagination itself.

The movie starts of as a normal regional movie with bad screenplay until the one person who can nullify bad screenplay with his sheer screen presence comes on the screen. Let us name him Rascules - Lord of the night(mares) (names have been changed for the sake of my safety). I wouldn’t mind calling him Hercules reincarnate straight away, but that would be undermining Rascules’ masculinity.

Wherever there is trouble befalling any member of the female species, Lord Rascules happens to be in the neighbourhood. Being the symbol of masculinity that he is, I wonder how there was enough masculinity in the universe to create us lesser males after the birth of Rascules.

My subconscious screams out “Eyes Left!”. I turn my eyes to the left and salute the passing presidential scenery with all my yawning glory by lowering my lower jaw with due disrespect. Literally a jaw dropping movie. God bless the inventor of the window. As the scenery, whizzes past, a strange analogy comes to my mind. Ever thought that the window of a speeding bus is like our memory? The scenes are memories. There are things that are close to the window, whiz past in a fraction of a second. Like things that just seem to graze the surface of your mind, never penetrating deep enough. There are things that are further away from the window. Like things that are deeply embedded in the window of the mind and they seem to travel along with you. Sort of hitchhiking their way along with you on the journey. The things further back are not always clear but they stay with us a long time. We don’t even seem to remember when they entered the windows of our thought. But they reside somewhere deep inside.

I turn to my right and my fellow passenger looks at me with a face that I interpret as “are you dyslexic to look out of the window when we are getting a lesson in humility by Lord Rascules in full splendour. Its amazing what a movie can do to a disease like dyslexia. Anybody not paying complete attention seems to be a suspect.

I could have sworn I could have made it out of that movie “alive”, had it not been for the subtitles. Without the subtitles, I had no reason to try to make sense out of the story. I need not have put my mind in danger. I could have just looked at the bone crunching, swearing, and tears dropping from glycerinated eyes adorned by perpetually fluttering eye lids.

Rascules seems to be better than my martial arts instructor. Not that my martial arts instructor can’t throw a flip kick. Its just that he always used to get his hair messed up after all that. But by god, Lord Rascules manages to maintain every strand of his hair intact. Flawless victory is an understatement. Rascules is no mere mortal. It would be blasphemous of me to think that its because of hair gel. For all I know, I think hair gel itself is extracted from Lord Rascules’ hair. Pleased by my relatively rational explanation, I turn to my left reasserting to myself, my newly acquired lifetime ambition, that when I grow up I will make sure that every citizen of this country, irrespective of his caste, colour, creed, sex, economic status and political affiliation, will get the opportunity to learn Newton’s laws. God bless Newton’s soul.

I always had the misconception that quantum mechanics comes into play only at atomic scales. But that night I witnessed new macroscopic physical phenomenon governed by a quantum law like quantum magnetic deflagaration. Niels Bohr, one of the fathers of quantum mechanics, is quoted as saying "No phenomenon is a phenomenon until it is an observed phenomenon." I reassert myself. It was quantum phenomena that I witnessed that night. I guess it must be something like, relativity of time between our world and Brahma Lok where our clock and Lord Brahma’s clock have different time scales. Maybe our dimensions of length, breadth and height and and Rascules’ dimensions are measured on different scales. That enables Rascules to demonstrate quantum phenomena like tunnelling effect through brick walls on what we consider as the macro scale.

Very few people have the stamina to maintain their consciousness after witnessing such supernatural phenomena. I am definitely not one of them. The quantum phenomena were too much for me as I turned to my left, and looked at the sky. I saw Orion the hunter facing Taurus the bull. My mind grew weary of the quantum world journey. My eyelids felt heavy. And thus I passed out into the dream world in search of more realistic realms.

2007-10-05T20:41:00.000+05:30

CHANGE II – The Funny Side Of It All

Well after that dose (some people spell it as overdose) of philosophy in my last post, lets just lighten things up a bit in this post…. Here’s a list of a few funny and thought provoking quotes on change I stumbled upon… Just to assure my dear readers that I am not perpetually in a state of melancholy :-)

Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.

Change is good, but dollars are better.

Who we are never changes. Who we think we are does.

In times of profound change, the learners inherit the earth, while the learned find themselves beautifully equipped to deal with a world that no longer exists.

- Al Rogers.

The reasonable man adapts himself to the world, the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.

– George Bernard Shaw.

CHANGE

2007-10-04T19:01:00.000+05:30

CHANGE

Change has been a part of my life since time memorial. With more schools than fingers on my hands, and more names of new friends to remember than the number of elements in the periodic table, change and I have been constant companions through life. I attribute whatever little skill I have with numbers to the regular memorizing of my new phone numbers, roll number, house number, street number, STD code and pin code. After, more than two decades of being so close to change, I cannot say with conviction that I have understood change. For someone for whom change has been as much a part of life as breathing, I can’t say change has ever failed to mystify me. Change has always enchanted me. For me, change will always be as enigmatic as ever.

When things changed, I always looked for a frame of reference so I know where things are headed. To give me a sense of direction. But all my attempts to search for this stationary frame of reference were futile. I couldn’t pin point one thing in my life that has been constant throughout. Circumstances, materialistic things, people, everything seemed to change over time.

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river and he is not the same man”

- Heraclitus of Ephesus

But I need not despair. There were other philosophers to rescue me from drowning in Heraclitus’ flux.

This view was strongly opposed by Parmenides, who said that reality was permanent and unchanging. According to Lavine, Parmenides asked, "How can a thing change into something else? How can it be and not be?" According to Parmenides, change is merely an illusion.

Plato believed that each thing has one unchanging essence.

I just had to find that unchanging essence. I decided I couldn’t find it in the outside world. So I started looking within me. And I am still looking for it. I know, even I have changed over time. For I firmly believe, if you do not change, life will change you, but not on your terms.

Change is not always comfortable. Change is not always as simple as a diaper change. There is no guarantee that the new scenario is always warm and dry. The beginning and end of change is actually beautiful. It’s the middle that can be disconcerting.

“It's not so much that we're afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it's that place in between that we fear . . . . It's like being between trapezes. It's Linus when his blanket is in the dryer. There's nothing to hold on to.”

- Marilyn Ferguson

But then again, change is not such a bad thing,

“The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers”

- M. Scott Peck

Change can be of various types. Ranging from the subtle yet ever present to the bolts from the blue that appear like lightning.

Change can be subtle. I can keep admiring the picture. Believing it to be reality. And all the while, the agents of change are hard at work behind the scenes. Changing each pixel of the picture. One by one. And before I know it a whole new picture emerges. New developments creep in. And a realization dawns that all this while, I was looking at the negatives. The real picture is much brighter. Or was it vice versa? The negative is the “real” original picture isn’t it? The brighter the picture, the darker the negative.

Change can be so imperceptible that only after black turns to white and white turns to black do I realise that nothing was actually black or white. Just shades of grey. Different shades of grey created by different densities of grey specks of dust. Suspended specks of dust were just obscuring my view. Let Father Time take a few deep breaths. It takes just a gentle breeze of time to blow away the dust and make me realise that behind the dust lies another ocean of grey sand. Every breeze changing the landscape as I had known it. Every breeze wiping away the trails. Every breeze inviting me to create a new path of my own in the sand. Only to be wiped away again the next time Father Time takes a deep breath.

The lucky ones amongst us get our grains of sand near a sea. The sea lets us build our castles… Sand castles… But castles nonetheless… Only to wash it away with the waves of time. The difference between the winds of time and the waves of time is that the sea is kind enough leave behind a clean slate on which I can rebuild. It cleanses me as it goes away with my castle… Sand castle... But my castle nonetheless… Leaving behind water among the grains to give company to my tears. The wind just blows it all away. No, the wind also dries up my tears. They are both kind enough to try to hide my tears. One by camouflage. The other by evaporation.

Change can be fleeter than our thoughts. Like bolts from the blue that appear like lightning. Revealing the things that were hidden by the darkness of illusion of permanence. They disappear faster than they arrived. Yet they leave behind the thunderous realization that the sudden change itself was not an illusion. It was there. It leaves its resonant impact on us. Even after the thunder is gone, the reverberation lasts a long time. Leaving us looking back and trying to find the microscopic threads that might connect our past to our present. Leaving us trying to cling to the last fibre that might help us establish any correlation between the past and the present. The past and the present - separated by the bolt of change that left us bewildered.

Change has been a part of me, part of my life for so long that its kind of hard to imagine what life would have been like without change. Yeah, I would have made closer friends over time had I stayed with them for a longer time. I would have been better at this game if only life would give me a chance to settle down. But as soon as I find the answer to one question, they change the question, before I can use my solution. But change has made it possible for me to feel the joy that one feels when you meet an old friend you haven’t met for years. Change has made it possible for me to have those endless conversations with old friends where we catch up on old times. Change has made it possible for me to have that adrenaline rush when I know something new and exciting is going to pop up.

Change will always be a part of my life. It has always been with me. It has kept me going. The driving force behind me. Unknowingly, over time, I have fallen in love with change. Change has made me what I am. I wouldn’t be what I am if it weren’t for change. Is that a good thing? My answer to that question also keeps on changing.

And thus as I fall in love with change, my search for something permanent comes to an end. I have found something in my life that has never changed. I found something that I can rely on to endure the waves of time with me. Surprisingly, its Heraclitus who comes to my rescue…….

“Nothing endures but change.”

- Heraclitus of Ephesus