My Life @ IITB

"Corruption"

2012-02-07T02:20:00.001+05:30

A friend of mine told me an interesting story today. A couple of months ago, his cable operator asked him if he was going to vote. He replied, "Yes, I've applied for a voter ID card." The cable guy said nothing and went away.

A week ago, my friend received his monthly bill from the cable guy. And along with it, an envelope. Inside it was a Rs. 1000 note, along with the names of a couple of Shiv Sena candidates.

I was surprised, but my friend then pointed out that this was apparently quite common: http://bmcelections2012.com/civic-polls-candidates-bribe-voters-with-rs10-promise-rs5000/

***

There has been a lot of talk about "corruption" over the past year. People have rallied together, protested, raised a lot of awareness, as well a lot of noise. Everyone's been very angry about how the government has looted India and how we won't have real Independence until we get rid of "corruption". Everyone complained about how black money was the reason why so many Indians die every year, and that if all the black money came back to India, all of India's problems would instantly disappear.

We were all presented a magical bill, which would rid India of "corruption" once and for all. We were told to participate, to give support to a crusader and his team in trying to force a government to pass a bill hardly anyone agreed upon. When the bill failed to pass in the Parliament, we were told to mourn the "death of democracy" in India.

The whole thing absolutely reeked of hypocrisy.

Why is it that people conveniently forget about themselves when they talk about "corruption"? Why is it corruption when a minister takes bribe money in exchange of favours, but not when the voter accepts money to cast his/her vote? Why isn't it corruption when people lie about their income and fake documents when paying their taxes?

Because it isn't easy to accept your own shortcomings. It's much easier to blame somebody else. And what better to blame than a common enemy?

In a democracy, people get the government they deserve. If people think they can get a honest government while being corrupt themselves, they're dreaming. If they think that any single piece of legislation, no matter how shrewdly written, can make everyone honest, while even the enforcers of the law side with the dishonest, they're mistaken. If they think that a few good men, when in power, will not misuse it, they're wrong as well.

As for the crusaders who're "fighting" against corruption, why is it that they never talk about how people vote in exchange for money? Or why is it that they never question why people keep electing the same old idiots and goons to government?

Why is it that these people from "India Against Corruption" act like a political force, but never even talk about standing in elections, despite their huge popularity?

The reason is simple. If they were honest about corruption and pointed fingers at the common man, no one would support them. As I said earlier, people don't like to accept their own shortcomings. Which is why these crusaders chose a more "practical" approach: to gather the common man's support by blaming the common enemy.

As for not standing in elections, I'm not sure. Maybe they're afraid. Or maybe they think they will lose. But they want people to mourn the death of democracy while not believing in the democratic system themselves.

It's not really about corruption. If it were, people should have been pointing fingers at other corrupt parties as well. As mentioned in the article linked to above, many major political parties participate in bribing voters.

When I brought up this point while discussing this matter on a social network and said that I would most probably be voting for an independent candidate, I was told by a most fervent opponent of corruption that my vote would then be going to waste. Instead, he argued, my vote should be used to "punish" the current government for all the wrongs that they did. I pointed out that by voting for an independent candidate, I would be doing exactly that. "Not if your vote doesn't go to the winning party," he said. He spent the next few comments trying to convince me to vote for an opposition party that he supported, saying that voting for someone who most likely won't win is simply a waste of my vote.

As I said earlier, this isn't about corruption. It's about bringing the current government down. Many of the most vocal advocates of corruption don't really care if the political parties that they support participate in corruption as well. They just want this government, the most corrupt government we've ever had, to go down.

And contrary to what you might be thinking, I want this government to be punished as well. But not at the cost of supporting equally vile creatures.

***

Corruption is a wide term. Most of us are guilty of being corrupt almost every day of the year. As I've pointed out, I consider selling votes for money to be an extremely insidious form of corruption, worse than the scams we're witnessing.

But there's another, more subtle form of corruption that I'd like to point out: political bias, or selective ignorance.

Most people don't really care about "corruption", injustice, poverty, and crime. All that they want is for their favourite political party to win. That's it. For some reason, they come to support some political party very strongly. Most of such reasons are completely irrational and based on lies. But they come to believe in the reasons nonetheless.

Once programmed this way, people just won't see anything wrong with their favourite political party. Every wrongdoing is instantly forgiven, every crime committed is blamed on someone else, and the party's shining leader is a veritable God on earth who will solve all of India's problems.

The other party - whether it be in power or not - is made up of the vilest scum on earth, the reason for all problems in our lives, the reason why everyone's miserable. They have to be defeated, no matter what.

People read newspapers that support their own views, watch TV channels that share the same political bias, and keep friends that support them in their political opinions.

Can you see why we see the same old scum being elected again and again?

This is the sort of corruption that we should be talking about - the corruption of our honest minds. Once this corruption goes away, the other forms will go away too, with time.

But whom do we vote for, when everyone's corrupt?

First of all, not everyone who stands for elections is corrupt. Politics isn't dirty. There are competent candidates everywhere. But we need to let go of our biases and our party favouritism to be able to see such candidates.

When good people see that people vote for them in elections, more good people will join. It's just that we need to show them our trust.

But unnecessary scepticism (as well as idiotic ideas about not voting for people who don't stand a chance to win) will only keep politics dirty. If you don't believe that politics can be good, it will never be. If you don't think good people can enter politics, they won't.

Nobody Bleeds for the Dancer

2011-10-17T01:26:00.001+05:30

October has been a sad month for the world of Computing. Two significant figures in its history have left the world. If you're the average netizen, you would have guessed the names of one of these figures - Steve Jobs - but might also be wondering about the other person. Let me introduce him to you:

Dennis Ritchie - The inventor of the C Programming Language and the Unix Operating System

If you haven't heard of it, the C Programming Language was one of the earliest successful programming languages. It was so successful that even today much software is written in C, and many organizations and groups prefer to continue to maintain their old software written in C simply because it's still useful today - and is still successful. Many modern programming languages, C++ and Java being two primary examples, were built upon C and the ideas used in it. In fact, they continue to use syntax similar to C.

Most people don't know about Unix either. It can simply be called the Mother of all modern Operating Systems. Long before Windows was born, long before the Apple Mac, long before even DOS, Dennis Ritchie created Unix. Yet, each of them is basically a derivative of Unix or uses ideas from it. Unix was successful in the scientific and technical world because it was simple yet powerful. And most importantly, it had vision - it provided a development environment so that other people could build software on it.

To give you an idea of the importance of these contributions to the Computing World, let me start with the Operating System you are most probably using - Microsoft Windows. Microsoft built Windows on top of its original Operating System, DOS, and DOS itself lifted off many ideas from Unix and added some others (but it was still weaker than Unix). Windows wasn't independent from DOS until Win 95, and even then DOS was the background on which Windows ran. Even today, the core Windows system continues to use ideas from Unix.

Or probably you're reading this on an Apple computer running Mac OS X or later. Apple's latest Operating System is built right on top of Unix. Apple acknowledges it openly on the OS X webpage - "Built on a rock-solid UNIX foundation, OS X is engineered to take full advantage of the technologies in every new Mac."

You might be reading this on a Smart Phone. If it is an Apple iPhone, it's running iOS, an operating system which is essentially a Unix-like Operating System. If it is an Android device, it runs Android, an operating system made by Google that uses the Linux Kernel, which functions just like Unix, but was rewritten from scratch to address modern needs.

Talking of Linux, the entire kernel is written in C, and its developers continue to use C because of its simplicity and power. Linux Operating Systems are supposed to be the most robust, fault-free and stable systems on Earth - a characteristic they share with Unix.

This webpage itself comes from a computer running on Linux. In fact, any webpage coming from Google (Google Search, Gmail, Google Docs...) comes from its servers - and they all are based on Linux.

Facebook (I hate that site) uses Linux servers as well.

Now that you have understood the importance of Dennis Ritchie's contribution to the world of Computing, I'll come to the point of this post - the fact that Steve Jobs' death was mourned everywhere, but hardly anyone even cared to report about Dennis Ritchie's, let alone mourn it.

I am not trying to compare the two people here. No person can be compared to anyone else. I'm just commenting on the nature of people. Steve Jobs' primary contribution was to popularize the Computing World - to make it cool. Steve Jobs and even Apple didn't contribute much to the development of Computers - their concern was always to make them more accessible to common people.

As I've outlined, without Dennis Ritchie's contributions, we wouldn't have had a Steve Jobs.

Yet the world mourns Steve Jobs, but nobody cares that some guy named Dennis Ritchie died.

"But nobody bleeds for the dancer." - Ronnie James Dio had it right.

People know you not because of the greatness of your work, but only because of your ability to present yourself and to market your image. They don't care if your work touched their lives or if it has enabled many others to do so. Or if it has actually brought the human race forward. They just care for who's popular - who successfully markets his image.

Nobody bleeds for the dancer.

R.I.P, Steve Jobs.
R.I.P, Ronnie James Dio.
R.I.P, Dennis Ritchie.

A year later...

2011-09-28T21:35:00.003+05:30

Wow, it has been a long, long time since I wrote here. I was meaning to write down a new story based on a radical idea I had while listening to this song, but could never come up with an appropriate plot.

Talking about polyrhythmic metal music, I saw these guys live last December here in Pune. It was a blast. This is me during the concert:

Yes, yes, I know that the comments section is beckoning you right now, but bear with me, alright? There's more to this post. Plus, this isn't what I look like right now.

I gave my GRE a couple of months later and got a decent score of 1410 (800 Q, 610 V, 4.5 A, if you're curious). Was expecting a bit more, but I guess it's good enough, given that the exam date and product release deadlines at office clashed.

Speaking of which, I was given the chance to develop my own feature! It wasn't as exciting as I had thought it would be (Software verification was involved, and they take the fun out of everything), but it feels great to know that a thing you made will be used by organizations all around the world.

At around the same time, I bid goodbye to two of my dearest mates here at Pune: my cousin, Rohan and his girlfriend, Mansi. (They're both married now). Had a lot of fun with them. Here's a picture I took of them at Hard Rock Cafe:

And here's a picture of me with Rohan:

(I love my Opeth T-shirt.)

During the rest of this year, I've fallen sick for a month, read the latest Dan Brown novel (meh), the Dune series (currently at book 3), & Watchmen (a masterpiece), and developed an obsessive interest in watching live Starcraft II matches, and bought this fine piece of hardware:

That was the year gone by. It wasn't much, but it was a happy period (except for the sickness thingy). Right now, I'm working towards applying for an MS in Computer Science. Wish me luck!

P.S. Do you like the new Blog Template? Blogger has suddenly become awesome!

"We're Watching You"

2011-04-05T13:13:00.010+05:30

...closely.

Ninja Owls

Freedom means

2011-02-28T19:48:00.005+05:30

...being able to stand up for your own rights.

...being able to shout out against evil and to take action against atrocity.

...being able to crack a joke even when it won't be understood or appreciated.

What is and What Should Never be (Part II)

2010-12-30T22:29:00.007+05:30

Reading comments on news articles online is an abject way to spend one's limited time on earth. Yet, I've often found myself scrolling down and taking a peek at what people have to say. Try it out: visit a popular news site and read comments on a popular story without any sort of bias in your mind about the story. Notice how logically flawed and grammatically incorrect people can be.

Over time, I've started noticing patterns within these comments. These aren't different from the patterns I have observed when people speak in everyday life; however, there's an important difference between saying things in real life and typing a comment on the internet: On the internet, you're essentially anonymous and can speak out your mind without the fear of being judged. This is why these patterns caught my attention: I realised that people actually believed in what they were saying.

I can give you numerous examples, but I'll stick to the subject of this post: "The Indian media isn't honest". Common variants are "The media should focus on real topics", "The media is evil", or, "this is the media's fault". And yet these are the very people who stick to TV channels day and night, consuming everything they are fed; they wake up every morning and read newspapers and absorb everything that has been printed.

My aim here is not to prove those statements wrong or to say that the people who write them are deluded. It is to state that such accusations and the general blame-it-on-the-media attitudes simply don't work. This disgruntlement (though not ungrounded) is improperly targeted and hence futile: just saying that the media should be a certain way doesn't actually convert it. One must find out why the media is the way it is, and work from there.

The problem isn't that the media is untruthful, biased or immoral. The problem is that people allow it to be that way. From the media's perspective, people want it to be that way. Nothing else explains the immense interest and viewership these channels generate. Viewership equals profit, and these channels exist to generate profit. In other words, media organizations are inherently capitalistic. And I think this is the way it should be. You can easily imagine what would happen if the government were to control all media.

This brings us to the core of the problem: people and their standards. If people allow lies, biases and immorality in their own lives, they are prone to be fooled, misinformed and corrupted morally. On the other hand, if people detest lies and check for them regularly, aren't biased themselves, and are morally strong, they will be better informed and less prone to "evil". As I've said in the previous post, freedom means having to take care of our own self. If people are easy to fool, they will be fooled. A couple of examples from the past few months are worth mentioning:

1) An Australian Reporter reported that he was able to carry a whole suitcase full of explosives through a Commonwealth Games security barrier in New Delhi. Papers, news channels and most people in India instantly believed the video and were shocked, appalled, and abashed. Nobody realised that they were made fools of. Nobody asked the reported about the barrier he was walking through (which wasn't a barrier to the Commonwealth Games stadium at all), or nobody even checked with the police or security about the whereabouts of this barrier. Nobody really cared when Delhi Police released a statement saying that the report was bogus.

2) US President Barack Obama visited India. News Channels and News Papers had a field day. The fact that the American President was coming to visit India was more important than things happening in India itself. In fact, for a whole day, news channels concentrated on the fact that each day of Obama's visit would cost the USA Rs. 100 crore (about $200 million) every day. Newspapers carried this as a front page report. Yet again, nobody really checked for proof. A wild guess from a govt. employee made headlines as hard fact.

When somebody's boasting, you know it from intuition. But how many of us actually ask for proof when somebody makes tall claims? How many of us will ask somebody to cite their source when they claim something (the healing powers of ginger, maybe?). Yes, we stay silent out of civility. However, lowering your guards makes you susceptible. It takes practice to be on your guard.

Apart from outright lies, people are also susceptible to bias and opinion. Most people do not (and some have lost their ability to) differentiate between a report, an analysis, and an opinion. I guess it doesn't hurt to brush up definitions. A report is a description of certain events that have taken place. An analysis is a processing of data (this data may or may not be real). An opinion is essentially a personal statement, which might be based on analysis or might just be out of personal values.

While people expect reports from News Channels and News Papers, they are fed a combination of analyses, reports and opinions mixed together so that it is difficult to separate one from the other. Opinions are definitely not News. They are social and personal conclusions that have the power to bias the mind and sway people. Analysis is not really required when presenting News. The reader/viewer can analyse for themselves. If not, they would at least like to know the factors taken into analysis, so that they can explore it or correct it if wrong.

Yet, people buy newspapers because those newspapers support their biases and opinions; the analyses match their own. This is because these people have become so obstinate with their opinions and biases that they do not want to hear anything else. Others have become so used to others thinking for them that they skip glaring mistakes in logic and run for the conclusion. Reviews (and the strong opinions therein) have powers to detract many from watching/skipping a certain movie.

If people are so obstinate and close minded when choosing their source of news, is it not hypocrisy to say "the media is biased"?

Why should you, as a reader, be on guard? Isn't this the media's responsibility? We trust them so much, they should show gratitude, right?
The problem with trust and honesty is that these are personal values. They might not be adopted by everyone:

(xkcd.com/558/)

An appropriate concern here is: if "the media" cannot be trusted, who should be? This question brings us a bit closer to the nature of reality. It is easy to call everything "an illusion" and run away (which most people do). It is difficult to deal with the question. The nature of reality and the answer to "what is real?" is the subject of Existentialism and Modernism. Reality can be really difficult to represent.

The answer, according to me, lies in maintaining a detached and analytical point of view. It can be difficult and really disconcerting sometimes, but it leads you closer to reality. If you, as a reader or viewer, discard any biased, ungrounded News Paper or Channel and stop subscribing to it, the organization behind the Paper or Channel is hit. If you prefer a Channel or Paper that presents reports in a detached, unbiased tone, you have already won the war. Accept reality and truth, and people will tell it to you.

Science is based upon the principle that ideas are tested by experiment. The next time somebody lays a claim in front of you, ask them to prove it through experiment. You might be laughed at, but you're only finding out if the information is trustworthy. Thus, the answer to the question "whom to trust?" is simple: those who can verify their claims. In many cases, this is not directly possible. If that is so, hold your opinions and let those who find evidence through scientific methods speak for truth.

(xkcd.com/54/)

As science plays an increasingly important part in our lives, a Carl Sagan quote is apposite:

"We have designed our civilization based on science and technology and at the same time arranged things so that almost no one understands anything at all about science and technology. This is a clear prescription for disaster."

However, I think that a world increasingly dependent on science makes it necessary for more people to understand science and take scientific approaches in their lives. Not being able to deal with science and not adopting scientific principles means that you are left behind as others create and explore deeper. This fosters a competition where everybody is required to be strictly honest and closer to reality. It essentially leads us in a direction of truth, honesty, responsibility and progress.

I think adopting a rational approach is a much better way towards more honest "media" than complaining about it in comments that hardly anybody reads.

An assortment of philosophical meanderings

2010-07-10T21:36:00.008+05:30

...on some disconnected topics which have been concerning me or my current life.

My life has gone through some mild transformations within the past year. For worse or for good, I can't completely assess; the reason being I'm afraid to conduct this assessment, for fear of finding out I might already be on the wrong path. I do believe, however, through my intuitive faculties, that I am not. The problem being that I know my intuition is deceived sometimes.

For the good part, I know that I haven't changed much. I stand by my beliefs, until I prove them wrong myself; a process of self doubt which I keep running. As I have elicited quite clearly here on numerous occasions, I do not and will not accept something someone else tells me unless I assess it with logic and those values I hold which I firmly believe in.

What has changed, though, is the environment I am operating in. IITB was an unique environment; I don't know if I'll ever be able to find any other place like it. I don't think I need to explain any further: the whole of my blog before this and the previous posts deals with the environment at IITB.

Now that I'm back to the "real" world, I find myself going through variegated experiences - which force me to further analyse and comprehend. This post is supposed to present a grand summary of the results of these analyses:

Feelings

-----------

Intuitively, analyzing feelings seems contradictory. Emotions and thought are opposite ends of a spectrum, isn't it?

Maybe. I can't, however, prevent myself from writing this, because my conclusions feel complete. In other words, they seem to satisfy me.

Anger

Anger is similar to fear in that it promotes action. However, while fear promotes passive action, anger requires an active role. Anger persists if it is not quenched through active action (many prefer to ignore it and pretend it has gone away after a while), and will be released, consciously or unconsciously, through some sort of action. Thus, according to me, anger is something that requires a physical rebuttal.

Is it good or bad? I don't think anger is bad. How people react to it, however, and how they release it can be. Most importantly, people direct their anger to those who aren't responsible for it. Anger is a result of an external agency violating your essential rights, especially freedom. You feel angry when you are forced to do something which you don't want to, or when you are at the receiving end of Injustice.

I think that it is essential to direct anger back to its source, and immediately. Immediately because anger grows and gnaws you from within if not released. If you think something wrong is being done to you, you should react to it instantly, and not stay mute.

It is when the feeling is suppressed that things start going wrong: you have an urge to release it somewhere, and it doesn't go away, no matter how hard you try to pacify yourself. This makes you look for targets.

Anger renders your eyes incapable of perceiving anything but evil.

Even a small mistake on an acquaintance's part might be magnified, all because your mind is looking for an easy target. And you release all of it on them. Which, since it is unfair, leads to further anger and often leads to a cascade.

Ever wonder why people burn buses or pelt stones or destroy cars/homes/offices when they go out in mobs during a procession/bandh/demonstration?

I think the only reason is suppressed anger.

Fear

I won't be saying much because almost everyone is pretty acquainted with this feeling and knows how devastating it can be. However, there is a special form of fear that I must mention here. Fear that enslaves you.

As I mentioned above, people hide anger and divert it to some other sink. I think the biggest reason for this is fear. Many people (especially here in India) underestimate their own value and allow other people to infringe their rights and beliefs out of fear. This leads to anger and unnecessary misery.

There are many people out there who know this and use it to their advantage. This subjugation can be varied in its severity, including the extreme case (not uncommon, though) of dictators. This must be curbed.

If you think someone is hurting your rights, you are free to fight back and prevent them from doing so. We live in a free country.

The Awkward Feelings of "Business"

"Feelings" and "Business" should be contradictory. Sadly, they aren't treated as such. Feelings are often a major factor when "businesspeople" decide their strategies. A great example of this can be seen in the way shopkeepers in India deal with their customers.

If a customer seems inclined not to buy a specific commodity from a shop because of lack of quality, the shopkeeper is often seen to present a sad puppy face, as if the customer's doing something wrong to them. This, surprisingly, often leads to a change of mind on the part of the customer. The puppy face is completely fake and should not be even given a thought.

A similar example is a very mild form of coercion, which can often be observed in India. A person goes to buy something from a shop, but discovers that it isn't necessarily of the quality they're looking for. This moment of indecision is caught by the shopkeeper, and the person is wheedled and often forced to buy the commodity. This is usually seen in the form of action such as a hurry in packing the commodity, because many people often reconsider their indecision and think,"Well, why not? He's already packed it."

This might seem surprising to you, but can often be observed. This should not be tolerated at all and is a mild crime, in my opinion.

Large businesses aren't exempt from such tactics. In fact, they are culpable for worse. A major factor for calculating how successful a particular product is how man people "trust" the brand. Note that this "trust" is not based upon rationality. It is based upon how many people are so used to the brand that they can't even consider anything else. This allows them to "capture" the market and sell lower quality products or outdated technology because people still "trust" them. It prevents new, probably honest businesses from cropping up, and clogs the market.

The criteria isn't "How good a product is", it's "How many people are so used to it that they aren't even aware of other products". People "trust" the business more than the do their own rationality. I can't even begin to express how awful that sounds.

"Politics"

------------

I often wonder why "politics" is such a big consideration in people's lives. I agree with Rand when she says that the government should have as less amount of power as possible. I used to wonder why is it that people are inclined to think that politics is important.

I think I might have an answer now. People tend to ignore reality and nature's laws when they deal with the world. Most often, people want to ignore their own responsibilities and want a guardian angel Government on top of them so that they can blame it for everything that goes wrong. In Dave Mustaine's words,

"I like the way you stand in line and pray salvation from the empty skies."

Everyone wants someone to blame when something goes wrong. That has to be a poor guy who might not have anything to do with it. This often brings feelings such as fear into consideration when making good decisions.

In my life post-IITB, I've observed that people want to involve "politics" into their decision making process, even when the fact, the cold reality, is staring at them in their face. The problem isn't the consideration; it's the people who deal with it. Even when the reality is obvious and doesn't concern people at all (As is often the case in technology), "decision makers" introduce people and feelings, knowing well that this is an easier way to deal with it. The problem remains the same.

This comic best represents what I have to say.

In my opinion, even the slightest of crime you commit adds to the big whole. (Remember the rubbish you threw from you car window on the road? Somebody has to pick it up. And if nobody does, "Oh! The government isn't doing anything!")

A democracy is all about giving power to people. If people choose not to use this power to their advantage, I think they deserve to be ruled through injustice.

"You're Not In College Anymore"

2010-02-11T00:18:00.002+05:30

I'm wondering what I'm doing back here, writing another post, and you might be too: rightly so, for I had said I wouldn't be writing here again. "The blog's over because My Life at IITB is over," I say to people who ask, "It has served its purpose."

I was wrong. My life at IITB might have ended, but the spirit of this blog remains alive, lodged somewhere deep in my heart. It cries out to be recognised, only to be ignored or consoled. I guess it has had enough; here I am again, doing something I enjoy immensely: writing my mind.

Like Peter Griffin and many others, I wish life had background music. Instead, I
find that life has these dictats: "Don't do that!", "Shut up!" (don't we all love school teachers?), "Study hard!", "Don't listen to your heart, listen to us."

Which brings me to the title of this post. This phrase, endeared by many as soon as they leave college to be domesticated, brings me immense chagrin. Unfortunately for me, I've been at the receiving end of it almost every other moment. It makes me seeth with anger.

So what, I'm not in college anymore? Does that change things? Am I now supposed to suddenly evolve to some sort of new person, an idiot who can't decide for himself ? It makes me as angry as people who just can't stop about their "beloved" college days, as if life just won't be fun anymore.

If you ask me, people who think that college was "The best days of their lives" have already submitted to a collective resignation, an outright acceptance of the belief that there is nothing better to expect from life after college. The very thought makes me shudder. People who believe this actually help people who make it a reality.

I refuse to accept it. I won't change just because I'm at a different place. It hardly changes anything. I believe in the same things, and I refuse to be brainwashed into somebody else's value system.

As a little kid, I used to wonder why adults were the way they were, and now I'm watching crazy, imaginative, beautiful people turn into ugly, unquestioning, loyal idiots. The reason? They're simply tired of rebellion. They're tired of the most beautiful in them. They're afraid they'll lose what they've achieved, without realising they've hardly achieved anything. I don't ever want to be an adult.

People who cannot achieve Love to pull others down. They Love it when they can stop others, especially through beliefs perpetrated along with fellow losers. These people consider it an "achievement" to be in charge and to be imposing their idiotic beliefs on others.

Beware, this variety of scum that calls itself "human" is everywhere. They try their best to dictate every thought you have, and they won't be satisfied until every action of yours is guided by their collective whims. All they do is repeat statements like, "You're Not in College Anymore."

====================================================

When I was under "training," I had to undergo a course which was supposed to acquaint me with American values. I learnt a lot from it.

I've heard many say that Americans "do not have any culture". I didn't like the statement. How can a society exist, I thought, without any culture? I had no knowledge then, however, to support my hunch. I do now.

A culture stems from a value system. If a set of people believe in the same values and hold the same ideal, they spawn a culture. It is not the other way round, as many interpret. A culture does not dictate values. A "culture" which does is no longer a culture. It is a jail people put themselves into, and is bound to fail sooner or later because it will not adapt to the ever-changing world.

Americans believe in freedom, rationality and competition. Would you now say the Americans don't have culture?

I am not trying to be Pro-American or Anti-Indian. I am trying to understand.

Which brings me to the other side. The course mentioned that Americans prefer to come straight to the point or to facts, whereas Indians tend to "spiral" down to the fact, explaining the context before they reach their conclusion. The tutorial didn't suggest it, but it definitely hinted that I, as an Indian, should be careful when speaking to Americans, and be fact oriented.

Another brainwash attempt. If someone explains the context before facts, it suggests that they are imaginative and want the other person to understand something as much as they do. It reveals that the speaker is intuitive and is actually trying to be as clear as possible.

Why should I abandon my nature in order to serve people who aren't imaginative or open-minded enough to understand the big picture first?
Changing your way of thinking in order to serve another's is equivalent to slavery.

If you're like one of them Americans, you'd be asking "What's his point?" by now.

Here's it is: "I love who I am, and part of that is because I'm Indian. And that is precisely why I won't judge Americans just because they're Americans."

P.S. I love my job, I'm learning a lot. In fact, I'm much happier than I was at college.

P.P.S. Which is why you won't be seeing me post too frequently over here.

P.P.P.S. I love my job, but that doesn't imply I love my organisation.

"Common Sense"

2009-06-02T23:29:00.005+05:30

I guess I should put up one last post on this Blog of mine before I stop writing here.

First of all, apologies for the sudden leave; I was caught up in a VERY tight net of academics. I had been putting a lot of stuff off for a long time, and it took its toll. I guess I should have written this post a long time ago, but I had to really put myself together for my last exams. Second, thanks very much if you've been visiting this place even in the utter neglect I gave it.

Many ask me the reasons for my plan not to Blog anymore. Well, First, my Life at IITB is over. The purpose of the Blog is over. Second, Blogging is one of the "Intuitive Loops" I fall into. With such a plethora of ways to express your creativity on the Blog world (and that you always want to find out what others think of it,) you tend to find yourself deep within a mire, especially if you're a perfectionist like me. You tend to forget everything else and soon deviate far from the original purpose of your Blog. The Blog stays at the back of your mind in all aspects of your life, and in a way, you're caught in a big Loop.

Well, now that I'm back to my most liked mode of creativity (Programming,) I no longer have that itching desire to write here. If anything, this Blog has been my mate for 3 years. I'd like to keep it that way: as a memory of those days. My original plans of writing all about IIT life don't seem so lucrative anymore; in fact, I'd like to keep those memories within me. Whatever I wrote here in place of it reminds me of those times in a very different way, and I think it's pretty intriguing to anyone (with the exception to myself and those who know me very well) to infer my state of mind from what I wrote. That's pretty brilliant, in my opinion.

But I think this place deserves one final rant. Here goes:

I hate it when people say, "Common Sense." Everyone's so up in their brains with this concept. Anyone without it is instantly seen as dumb and not worthy of company. Frankly, I don't understand a bit of it. Isn't it common sense that says lighter objects fall on Earth later than heavy objects based upon the common observation that a feather falls later than a stone?

It's "Common Sense" to wear great clothing. It's common sense to impress others with your dress sense (including a job interview). It's common sense that a man who "thinks too much" must have some kind of a problem. It's common sense that a man without Confidence is worthy of no responsibility (A man who doubts his decisions has a better chance of anticipating potential flaws and disasters in schemes and plans, and hence is better adept at handling them.) But no; We want "Smart" people in the lead, who take decisions at lightning pace, and who, when things go wrong blame "market conditions" or "the government" for everything. Why? Common Sense.
I was once among a group of people who were talking about how they deal with Life and it's vagaries. There was this person who said, "I don't believe in Hard Work. Smart Work is everything. It's this age's necessity. You can't go anywhere without Smart Work." All such people are capable of are coming up with witty Advertisement Taglines or catchy Bollywood tunes.

Well, why am I so angry about this? If all we human beings ever used was Common Sense, we would still be living in caves. "If fire were such a good idea, why weren't all the other cavemen using it already?"

If "Smart Work" is all that we ever cared about, nobody would have invented the Wheel. Everyone would have been busy attempting to look pretty/fight with others in order to mate.

It seems, under the shelter of society, most have forgotten cold, bitter reality: Nature is not kind. We might have left our primitive roots far behind, but we're all animals in our hearts. Sex is still a big issue in all our minds; food is what makes us go; power is highly desired; and fights between tribes (now called "countries") still exist.

I wish people would leave "Common Sense" and for once look at reality, cold and bare. I wish to see a place where nobody is trying to show others how "Confident" they are. Rather, I'd like to see a place where people find themselves in a perpetual state of enquiry and wonder. That's where we'd reach the Next Level (if that doesn't make sense, I guess you're one of those who thinks we've reached an endpoint in our evolution.)

I urge you to look around you and try to find out what you know about the things around you, and how they work. Now imagine yourself in a primitive state without those things. You'll begin to understand what I'm hinting at. Try, for a single day, doubting and questioning everything around you. You'd experience something akin to childhood; and it will give you a very painful feeling. You'd want to run away, back to the sweet shelter of society and technology. You can choose to do that and keep in that inertial state forever. Or you can face the pain for a while and enter a state of pure wonder, back to reality.

Anycase, enough ranting. I'm staying with my parents at Bilsapur, and here's an advertisement designed by one of the "Smart Workers" at this place:

Bbye from me on this Blog. I hope I actually made a point here, in this sea of opinions that is the Blogosphere.

Stairway to Heaven

2009-03-22T15:30:00.002+05:30

Remember this post I wrote almost an year ago?

Well, let me connect it to my favourite song of all time, Stairway to Heaven:

"There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for
And she's buying the stairway to heaven"

Of course, this "lady" is representative of uncontrolled desires for "glory" (For example the belief that All that glitters is Gold). The reference that she can get what she came for "with a word" means that she believes that power over others is heaven.

The repeating lines "And she's buying a stairway to heaven" is a kind of Sarcasm, since the whole point of the song is, you don't need to buy a stairway to heaven.

"There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings
In a tree by the brook, there's a songbird who sings
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven
It makes me wonder
It makes me wonder"

This says, "Look outside, the songbirds are singing, free."
Sometimes all our thoughts are based on a bad assumption, and that makes the singer wonder.

"There's a feeling I get when I look to the west
And my spirit is crying for leaving
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who stand looking
It makes me wonder
It really makes me wonder "

Sometimes we long for freedom, from this "Mortal toil" :D
The singer says he has seen signs and patterns (rings of smoke) through this maze, and what the people who watch the world go by are saying, and it again makes him wonder.

"And it's whispered that soon if we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long
And the forests will echo with laughter"

Remember the Pied Piper of Hamelin? This is what this is referring to.
The forest will echo with laughter because the people who "stand by, looking" are celebrating.

"If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now
It's just a spring-clean for the May queen
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on
And it makes me wonder "

If something strange happens, don't fear, it's just an aspect of nature you don't understand yet.
The correct path to go on is the path of reason.

"Your head is humming and it won't go, in case you don't know
The piper's calling you to join him
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind? "

It's the voice of reason inside your head that is calling you join it, and that is brought to life by the piper (I believe this to be a self-reference, the piper is Led Zeppelin).

Here is where the Sarcasm is revealed: There is no need to buy a stairway to heaven. It already exists, along the "whispering" wind.

"And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll"

We often deviate from the path of reason, and when we do come back, we have a Shadow...
But then there is a lady (Lady Liberty this time, not the previous one), who shines white light and wants to show that how we can turn things to gold.

And when you realise this, you will understand the tune of the piper, and learn to be a rock (take your own stand, be strong) and not to roll (go with the times, go with the flow, "chalta hai").

"And she's buying the stairway to heaven"

When you've found your own liberty, your inner beauty, you will be strong.

Intention

2009-03-08T19:08:00.002+05:30

When I started blogging about two years ago, I understood something, which I misplaced and stopped using, in search for that very thing (I know this sounds kinda dicey, but it is true).

You see, when I would see, read, experience anything, I would try to find the intent behind it. As if I were the creator of that very thing. It made me understand things very clearly and perfectly. Even blogposts. That was my way of life: understanding the central idea, the theme. I thought this method wrong sometime later; I'm not sure why.

Anyway, I'm back to my positive self now, and here's what I've learned:

If you do something with a positive intent, it will turn out to be good.

If, when told (or forced) to do something that you do not intend to, (especially if it makes you go "Arre yaar!" or "NO!"), Do not do it. Or, understand the intent behind the person's making you do it, and then do it if it appeals to you.

If you are doing something without any intent, you are wasting your time/life. Stop doing it. Nobody can stop you.

This intent is called by Ayn Rand as "Rational Self-Interest"

Muddy Moody

2009-03-07T13:54:00.002+05:30

Sometimes I wonder why I write here. (<---woohoo strange alliteration there)
Do I write so that people should read me?
Do I write to gather followers?
Do I write to express myself?

Why did I make this Blog in the first place?

It's as the title suggests, representing my Life here at IITB. It's been some years of EXTREME struggle, when I was expecting comfort. This Blog represents my past. It shall always remind me of what I've been through and what would inevitably follow. It can be a guide to me when facing a similar situation in the future. It shall remind me of where I might be heading.

The answer to the above questions is, I write first and foremost to express myself. It's a kind of removal of negative energy, and creating something positive out of it. If you like it, you can read it. I have no obligation towards reading your posts, you have no obligation towards reading my posts. I don't care if you like what I write or not. It's first and foremost that I should like what I write.

Wisps

2009-02-24T11:50:00.001+05:30

Why Worry, Wistful Woman?
Would Worrying Wrest Wonder?
Wretched Whining's Worthless,
Worry Why Wishes Wander.

Wonder Where Wraiths Wither,
Wonder Why Woods Wane...
Wonder When Wands Wobble,
Wonder What Waits'n Wain...

Wails, Whines, Worthless Wars,
Why Would We Want Worse?
We Want Wily Wild Whoopers,
(Who) Wrest the World of this curse.

:D

2009-02-22T15:24:00.000+05:30

There is a reason you can masturbate.

50 Hz, 60 Hz

2009-02-19T08:44:00.003+05:30

When for the first time I heard that Americans used as their standard frequency for Electricity 60 Hz whereas the world used 50 Hz, my reaction was, "Eeergh. Kameene Americans!" But then, I assumed that Electricity was the world's property, for everyone to have.

I didn't understand that they were the creators of Electricity. I didn't understand they didn't want to share. But then, why didn't they want to share it with other people?

They invented it. They didn't want other people to use it and advance enough to overtake them in their innovation. They wanted their future to be secure from other peoples. I guess they didn't realise what they were doing: creating enemies. Nope. They realised it. That is why they created their ultra-superior defense systems. But nope, again. They didn't realise that however superior their "system" is, there will always be someone who would understand it, detect the most obvious flaws, and use it to their advantage.

But then what kind of person would want to detect a flaw in their defense system and use it to their advantage? The same kind of person who divided the line between 50 Hz and 60 Hz.

When I saw people having I-Pods, I wanted to have one. But then, why don't I have one?

The reason is, I don't want one. I have a playlist going through my head all day long.

Chocolates, Icecreams and Orgasms

2009-02-16T13:16:00.005+05:30

I am nobody's responsibility but Nature's: That is, my own.
I will Help you only in Helping yourself.
Freedom: Never ever shy from changing yourself and trying new things. You will only be reminded of what you are (a human being), and what you Love (yourself).

P.S. Everything is about the Orgasm, which need not be due to Sex only.

Evolution

2009-02-14T19:32:00.004+05:30

When a creature consciously tries to be in its glory, it evolves. We are all evolving...

P.S. I Love you, J.K. Rowling.

The List

2009-02-12T21:17:00.003+05:30

Know what you want.
Imagine it possible (in other words, believe that it exists, because it exists in your head).
Observe (not necessarily in the real world, you can observe the existing thing in your head, too) what you need to do in order to make it real (if something within you rebels against doing what is needed, check out point #1 : Know what you want.)
Do it.
Gain happiness from the realisation of your dream.
Use that happiness as a fuel to move ahead.

Most people (including myself) will make an error in step no. 1 or step no. 2

A Rational Discourse on Why You Should Have an Ego (Equivalently, Why You Should be Happy)

2009-02-04T21:25:00.004+05:30

For the rest of this post, assume whatever form you give to what created this world ("God", if you will). I believe God is a human creation, since I believe that the universe wasn't created; It always existed, and it just changes its form (equivalent to saying that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, but just changed into one form or the other). This I call nature, the thing that "created" us.

"YOU are the light of this world," said Jesus once upon a time. If he did exist, maybe he was in the same mode of thought as I am right now. Nature is an ever transient thing, always experimenting with its creations, seeking perfection: survival. You, Me, are Human Beings, the pinnacle of nature's experiments. Is not that reason enough to have an Ego? To stay happy?

Doesn't make sense? Let me elaborate, then, the difference between Judging and Perceiving:

Judging is forming a pre-conceived notion; it is an Active act. It is saying that the shape is a Square while it might be a Triangle. It is confining a free will to yours.

Perceiving is observing; a passive act. It is observing something, and then thinking about it. You do it in steps, refining your idea.

When you present to yourself a human being (even yourself), you might Judge him or Perceive him. When you Judge, you look at his current state and go back to the past; you will form ideas about him depending on what he has been. When you Perceive, you look at what he is doing with his present, and hence conjecture what he can be.

Look inside yourself. What do you do when you look at yourself? Do you Judge, or do you Perceive? Do you pity yourself because you aren't what you wanted to be?

Or do you Perceive yourself, and observe what you are doing now, noticing how powerful you are, how stupendous nature has made you?

IT DOESNT MATTER what a person has been. It matters what he is: a human being: the most powerful of nature's creations, for his ability to create. It matters what he can be.

That is reason alone to have an ego; to be happy for nothing but the fact that you are a human being and you are alive. It doesn't matter what you have been. You know what YOU are and what you can be. Listen to yourself.

Judgment is a prevalent practice. Fuck that. They won't stop judging you. They won't stop giving you names. Believe their judgment, and they have won. Class, position, aukaat are CREATIONS. They aren't concrete, because YOU have a free will, and you will be what you (really) want to be.

Know that you aren't what you have been. You are what you are: the pinnacle of existence.

...And This is Not One of Them Part VI and VII : A Double Post

2009-01-23T20:19:00.003+05:30

"This Generation is Going to the Dogs"

aka

"Ghor Kalyug hai yeh"

...I mean, seriously, doesn't it irk you when you hear this being said?

What a stupendous generalisation!

And the funny part is, this very statement has been repeated for eons, which means every generation says this about the next generation. Even at the time of Socrates and Plato there are records of such statements.

People have said this before the Dark Ages in Britain, they must have said it during the dark agaes, too.

Then what about England at the time of the Industrial Revolution?

Dotted with slums (very much like the present day Mumbai), England's living conditions were deplorable. Surely people must have repeated this generalisation at that time countlessly. But look at it today: it's one of the most developed countries.

...I can go on with this, stating the World War or the Great Depression, but I guess my point is made.

More astutely, however, History is known to be repetitive or cyclical in nature. There is something about human beings that keeps it that way (something intrinsic, I think).

That tells me that even though how we live has changed, what we are hasn't: and even though it appears there isn't enough Love in the world, that isn't the case. It lies within us all, repressed, waiting to flow in bounties. We are too much in Love with life and nature to see them destroyed. There shall always be people who won't let the world "go to the dogs."

***

The 5 Great Illusions of the World

Religion/God: Created to substitute rationality, a means to explain life and the universe, it soon evolved into a way of life, a philosophy for existence, hence creating a mould for behaviour which could very easily be misinterpreted or shaped into a means to control. Religion has been known to encompass even finance, governance and law making at points in time. Needless to say, Religion can never replace Rationality.
Wealth/Comfort: No, I'm not going to break into the "don't be materialistic" dialogue here. We humans are inherently materialistic. We need something to control, to shape, to change, to Love, in order to live. This in itself implies that wealth and comfort can never be our goal. Yet, wealthiness and comfort continue to attract people into doing the exact opposite of what they need to do to obtain them: waiting for someone to give it to them.
Discipline: I am not against discipline in itself; I am against forced discipline, which is extremely rampant. True discipline is always a result of will: thus discipline is always self-imposed. It can never be truly an external agency. It can be supported by an external agent, but never imposed.
Position/Aukaat: Honestly, every time someone utters the word "Aukaat," I have to grind my teeth in irritation. What the hell is aukaat? A position YOU have assigned to me which I cannot ascend? No, sir, I can ascend everything. The only thing that stops me is myself; and here lies the crux: if I start believing I belong to an aukaat, I can never break that barrier.
Altruism: Human beings are inherently selfish beings; their own happiness their only goal. If every human being took care of himself, the world would be a Utopia.

***

With that, reader, I shall stay away from the Blog-world for four days, for I am leaving this very night for Chennai, to watch Opeth live in India. \m/

The Briefcase

2009-01-14T23:05:00.003+05:30

Vrij had never been to Mumbai before. He stepped out onto platform 14 of Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus as the train drew to a halt with a drawling grind, armed with a briefcase, and a face lit with fascination. In his mind's eye the place had appeared much brighter and clean; but he cared little. Mumbai's grandeur lies not in cleanliness, but in size and activity, thought he, besides, it's cleaner than most stations I've seen.

Never ceasing his gazing, Vrij headed towards the exit. Having spent most of his life in a distant town in Chhattisgarh, he had jumped at the opportunity to visit Mumbai as a representative of the organisation he worked for. He had pleaded his superior to extend his visit, but to no avail. He was to stay only for the day fixed for the conference he was to attend and leave for home the next day.

The clock read two 'o clock, and the conference was at six. With a heavy heart, Vrij decided to head straight for his hotel (which also served as the venue for the conference) instead of indulging in sightseeing. There was hardly any time, he was too tired, and had to prepare himself for the meet.

Lost in thoughts and fascination, he jumped and removed himself just in time from the path of a mob of people alighted off a local train. Their haste and indifference served only to deepen his sense of wonder. He followed them, matching his pace with theirs, swinging his briefcase merrily.

Outside, a clean sky greeted him, along with the hustle bustle of the city with its myriad vehicles and pedestrians. While the former skirted along the roads, ranging from motorbikes to double-decked buses, the latter carried on with their harried pace, some stopping in their way for footpath peddlers selling everything from footwear to toys. All this Vrij watched as he searched for an autorickshaw to carry him to his destination.

Gazing at the quaint mixture of ancient and modern buildings surrounding CST, he beckoned at an empty auto passing his way. Telling the autowallah his destination, he climbed inside and resumed his gazing. He had never seen such wide roads. There was no sign of animals upon them, no dung, no filthy plastic bags or overflowing garbage bins. Neither was there any sign of loose gravel or potholes.

His reverie was broken soon when the auto drew to a halt in a traffic jam. Within moments Vrij found himself engulfed in billowing smoke and bellowing car horns. His eyes smarted, his nose itched and he started coughing. He pulled over his briefcase on to his lap to retrieve a handkerchief -

"What is in that briefcase?"

Vrij wasn't as surprised at the question as he was at the tone with which it was asked: extremely stern and almost hateful and threatening. He noticed the autowallah's gaze, and replied in a strict voice,

"What does it matter to you? You keep on driving."

"I will not drive any further until you show me the contents of your briefcase."

Vrij thought of getting off the auto but hesitated as they were yet in the midst of the traffic jam.

"I'm sorry, bhaisaab, but I've had bad experiences with briefcases. I need to look inside to ensure my safety. If you would just show me, I will not disturb you any further."

There was something about the autowallah's tone, a vague sincerity that made Vrij open his briefcase and turn it towards him,

"See? Just clothes and documents. Now would you please go on?"

"Yes, okay, bhaisaab. Sorry for the problem."

Vrij stared at the autowallah. He was young, almost his own age, with a healthy build, and a stern, square face with short, cropped hair. There was a certain gleam in his eyes that Vrij could not fathom. It puzzled him, as much as the 'bad experiences' he had talked about. Noticing his gaze, the autowallah said,

"I haven't told many people about what happened to me because of fear, bhaisaab, but I'll tell you because you're a kind man, and I feel sorry for troubling you."

The traffic cleared, and the autowallah began driving,

"I came to Mumbai four months ago; alone, and in pursuit of a better life. After being rejected for even the most mundane of jobs, I had to settle for driving an autorickshaw. Most of my day is spent caught up in traffic jams and avoiding collisions. When night falls, I turn to the slum I live in, trying to find sleep in inhumane conditions.

"I was getting used to it, when about three months ago I picked up a man from Charni Road, carrying a briefcase just like yours. The place he wanted to go wasn't too far away, so I agreed and began driving."

He sped the auto past a car, placing it behind a bus.

"There was something peculiar about him, bhaisaab. I swear I saw it when he got inside. But foolishly I ignored it.

"It didn't take long for us to reach the place. He had been fidgeting with the contents of his briefcase; closed it and got off. I turned towards him, expecting money. Instead, he was pointing a gun at me.

"He commanded me to follow him, and led me inside a shabby apartment, where there were two more like him. They had their guns drawn out as they allowed us inside; Now they pointed them at me.

'Sit.' said the man who had opened the door, beckoning at a chair. I did.

'Am I late?' said the one who had brought me in.
'No. He's still inside. We'll have to hurry up, though. He says he'll be out in 15 mins.'
'What about them?'
'They didn't follow him inside, but he's sure they're going to follow him here and ambush us.'

The guy who had brought me then turned away and -"

A couple of motorcycles whizzed past from the left; The autowallah just avoided colliding with one of them. He drew out his head and mouthed angry curses at them,

"I'm sorry, bhaisaab, these crazy bikers are always trying to get themselves killed...

Well, the guy who had brought me in started talking on a phone. The other pointed his gun at me again, and said,

'Do not act smart. Do as we say and you will be unharmed. If you deviate at any point, we will not hesitate in killing you. Even if you escape, we will track you down and make sure you breathe no more. Do you understand?'

I nodded.

'Good. Now you will take Ash here to the Administration Tribune building in Khetwadi. Drive steadily and reach within 10 minutes. Ash will get down and our companion Shaz will get inside when you arrive. Take him where he tells you to.'

I nodded again and followed his gaze. Ash was filling up the Briefcase my captor had brought with him.

He continued, 'Do not panic and keep calm. Remember, any smart moves, and we will kill you.'

Meanwhile, Ash had completed with the briefcase. Pointing his gun at me, he beckoned me to follow him, and said, 'Let's go, Rob,' to the guy who had brought me in. He followed us out, while the third stayed inside.

"Rob didn't come with us. He went in a different direction. Meanwhile, I drove with Ash. All the time I was aware of the gun he kept pointed at me. I had no desire to disobey them, and did as was told. We reached the Tribune building within 10 minutes, and as I halted in front of it, I saw a man emerge from within, with a briefcase identical to the one Ash was holding. Ash paid me and left, leaving his briefcase behind. Shaz approached me and was telling me where to go.

"He repeated the same address on his phone as I began driving, after which he disconnected. He was panting, but there was an air of pride about him; as if he had succeeded in a very difficult task."

The autowallah took a sharp left turn which almost propelled Vrij outside. He continued,

"Shaz looked at me and said,

'Hurry up. We are being followed. Do not let them catch up with us.'

I looked at the rearview mirror, and saw a car tailing me not very far away.

'Do you know what this is?' he said boisterously, pointing at his briefcase, 'These are copies of extremely secret documents. They didn't suspect me earlier, but now they are following me all the time. They believe I haven't noticed them and want to catch me delivering these to my associates. But that's where You come in.'

"I hated that guy, but made sure I didn't show it. He was the one responsible for my predicament, and his haughty tone only served to accentuate my loathing. Yet, I was very afraid; I didn't know if I would escape this alive. Even if there were no mishaps, I feared they would kill me to protect themselves.

He took a long breath, and released it in a sigh,

"We arrived at the destination soon. Before he got off, Shaz exchanged his briefcase with the one Ash had left inside. I saw Rob waiting nearby; he approached me and got inside as Shaz was leaving. There was no sign of recognition on his or Shaz's face. He ordered me to go back to their hideout.

"He ensured that we weren't being followed and then opened the briefcase. There was a momentary gleam in his eyes, but he hid it as soon as he saw I was noticing him. As we got away, I saw the car following Shaz stop in front of the place he had got off. There were people getting off. But I turned left and couldn't see any more.

"Rob got off with the briefcase as we reached the hideout. I looked at him with extreme apprehension. I have never been more afraid, bhaisaab. But he just reminded me not to breathe a word to anyone else, and then turned away."

The autowallah paused for a moment and continued in a voice heavy with emotion,

"I cannot express to you the relief I felt when I watched him go. I drove away as fast as I could; nobody followed. I was free.

"Since that day, I have been living in dread of seeing them again. When you opened that briefcase, I thought you were one of them."

There was a long silence. Vrij couldn't think of what to say. He blurted out, "So, you didn't tell the authorities?"

"No, bhaisaab. I told a few friends about this and they advised me not to go to the police. They say there are informers within the police."

"But then, why do you keep staying here?"

"I cannot leave. Not until I have made for myself a proper living. I don't think I'll see them again. They would have killed me otherwise. I won't return to my village worse than I was when I left it."

Vrij looked outside. The city appeared to him much more familiar now. Behind the shining mask, it was hollow, ridden with disease, poverty and crime . Now and then he could discern shoddy buildings, filthy huts, and angry, troubled people. No longer could he see pride on their faces: it was replaced with worry and hidden sorrow.

The hotel arrived. The fare was Rs. 65; but Vrij paid the autowallah the spare Rs. 80 he had with him. He went to his room and prepared for the conference, but couldn't concentrate. The conference was trivial; he didn't have to do much. Probably this is why they sent me here.

Vrij woke up early next morning to catch the train that was to carry him back. He prepared himself, signed out of the hotel and caught an auto to CST. During the journey, he kept looking outside and thinking about the city and its people. The autowallah kept returning to his mind.

Thus lost in thoughts, Vrij was surprised to find CST approaching. He looked at his watch. It was only 10 minutes since he had left. The auto stopped. He looked at the fare. It was Rs. 23.

The Others

2009-01-08T23:34:00.002+05:30

One of the more inane concepts of existence that continues to exacerbate strong reactions from me is the concept of "other people," which is among the central pillars in philosophy, religion, and politics. Whereas in philosophy you would find constant references to "They," in religion you would often come across this rather irritating character called "Thy Neighbour," and in politics there is no distinction: it's "We, the people".

What about it?

Well, in the first place, it baffles me that we, beings whose consciousness is limited only to our own selves, are able to understand others. Think about it: if you were to close your eyes, block your ears, and stay away from touch, would you be able to understand anyone else?

However, when you do open your senses, your consciousness extends itself; You are able to recognise others and their consciousnesses. Then again, this ability is limited. Your consciousness cannot completely absorb into itself somebody else's. You can never fully grasp the other's mind. Their being is separated from yours.

Yet you can gather from just a look at the other's face whether they are happy, sad, tired, confused, or angry. While this might appear natural and obvious to most people, to me it feels magical. Borges writes about it in one of his stories where he explores the idea of unity in infinty: How there are infinite consciousnesses and yet how they are all one for their ability to merge into others.

I digress; My motive behind writing this post was to explore certain nuances of being alive that irritate me. If we are able to understand other beings, it is only upto limited levels. As I said before, you can never grasp another's consciousness completely. And yet, it is a common habit of ours to expect others to behave/live the way we want them to.

This is how it goes: You interact with someone, and your senses extend into theirs. You understand something about them, and during the process form a model of their being in your mind. Just like how you form a model of anything you observe. It is this modeling that is commonly referred to as Judgment.

That doesn't stop there, however. When you next meet the person, you expect them to behave according to that model. If they do not, it hurts you. This the other person can observe, and wanting not to hurt you, they choose to act according to how you want them to act.

Soon you reduce each other into a hollow representation of your own selves, guided by the other's expectation.

It irritates me how people put on such hollow masks in front of others. Losing out on their own individuality, they are afraid of those who fight this ever-extending fog of expectations. They are afraid and envious, and seek out to reduce those who rebel to their own downtrodden level, and dedicate their Pathetic lives to undermining everyone else. (As we say in Hindi, "neecha dikhana")

Break out of these shackles; Act according to what your heart feels like. Do not hurt yourself by acting according to what others want out of you. Neither bind someone else in such chains. Respect their consciousness and the freedom it assigns to them.

The most pitiable of creatures on this Earth is the one who doesn't understand that others have a will of their own. It seeks out to label everyone else and expects them to behave according to its will. It can never be happy because no one acts according to its wishes, and this unhappiness it forces upon others, for it cannot bear the sight of their happiness. It seeks only to undermine whoever is strong enough to respect its being.

Are You this creature?

Freaking Frigid Frost aka On to 2009 aka The Post Everyone's Putting up Before the New Year

2008-12-31T14:38:00.001+05:30

Temperatures are dropping here in Mumbai, and out come the warm clothes. Not for me, though. For someone who has spent 5 years in Jabalpur, this weather is pleasant. It's fun to have a cold breeze shiver you up when you're walking down a road. Inside IITB, the wind is void of unwanted guests like smoke and dirt. That makes it even more enjoyable.

Today's the last day of 2008. The year's been a perfect Sinewave: High in the beginning and Low in the end. No details here, though. Anyone reading through my blog can gain an idea. But it is strange how I went through this upheavel. And even stranger: I'm not even sure if my previous years here have been the same. Probably they were; I just didn't notice the passage of time. Or maybe this year was indeed a bit too heavy. Maybe I have been analysing the year too much.

2009 has a strange ring to it. It feels strange it's already been 9 years since the turn of the millenium. It feels strange that I'm a decade older. 2009 will be an year of changes, I guess. The BTP will take most of my time for the next few months, I'll pass out of IIT *sniff*, and join a job in Pune. To be honest, I'm not really looking forward to it. But then, only 10 more hours, and we'll already be there!

2008 taught me a lot. Though what exactly, I can't tell. Let's just say I feel a different person now. Though that isn't necessarily a good thing.

Anyway, if you've been roaming around the Blogosphere, you'd have noticed the quintessential "Resolutions for the New Year" post. And while I'm not sure if I even have such a list (let alone following it), I have been populating a list in my head since long. I guess it's time I put it up.

Having an ego is the exact opposite of showing that you have an ego.
Love >> Comfort.
The universe doesn't care about you. And nothing's more benevolent than that. Stop expecting sympathy/support from other people. Rely on yourself.
Creativity isn't something you are born with. You acquire it through observation and imitation.
I shall not use anyone or their freedom for my purposes. I shall not call someone else's work mine. I shall not hurt anyone. It is for myself that I must be kind to others. I shouldn't expect it from others.
There needn't always be a plan. Rash decisions are something I need to learn to take
At the same time, I shall develop myself not be afraid of anyone.
My instincts are my best guides, and nothing is more powerful than dedicating them towards something. I will not suppress my instincts.
I must care about people who care about me.
No more looking for proof for my beliefs. I know I'm right. Time to act upon it.

Here's something that I think puts it all in as succinctly as possible (courtesy www.xkcd.com):

A Happy New Year to all of you!
That includes you, silent readers from around the world (US, Singapore, China, Indonesia...). If you're reading this, I'd love to hear from you guys.

Deep Recesses

2008-12-24T00:04:00.004+05:30

When wind crosses your path, it steals a part of your soul; Blowing into itself, it lets your entity ride through it before losing it to an oblivion of other entities, each wafting through the air, expanding every moment into uncharted territories. Sometimes, however, wind is kind enough to let someone else pick you up back.

He had caught her essence in one such moment. It mesmerised him, making him incapable of anything but gazing into nothing. He caught a slight glimpse, however, as she disappeared round the corner. An anger boiled through him, a bubbling wrath against everything that stood between him and her existence. The barriers weren't scant, either. He knew he had to push through each and every one of them.

He didn't care about the irritated mutterings he received on his way; He didn't even notice the endless stream of curses hurled at him like stones thrown by a mob. It didn't matter to him if he hurt someone on his way. All he knew was that he wanted a whiff of her again, and again, and again into eternity. And then he saw it: A leg, disappearing back into the murky mix of people and things. It occupied him; His very soul squirmed to be free from it. He laughed at the irony: He didn't want to.

It made him push harder. Enter into a state of frenzied pursuit. It drove him almost mad. He couldn't resist it any longer. And then he succeeded. There she was, right ahead of him, in her completeness. Relief and joy trickled down him as he reveled at the sight. Something within him stood tame, like a hungry baby suckling.

He made to go a step further.

The world around him began to crumble, recede into its own empty hollows. Everything began to fade into nothing. Time's flow reduced to a trickle. She faded away from him, dissolving into everything that was slowly turning into nothing. He made to shout, but his mind had reduced to a crawl. His consciousness, however, had not.

The speaker stopped blaring. His one hand extended to the Play button; The other towards the next shot of Tequila. Soon, he was back into the crowd, and a delicious smell caught his identity. Only this time, it was a bit more familiar, and yet much more faded...

P.S. This was inspired into existence when I encountered Mrigya's music.

P.P.S. Also dedicated to Mood Indigo and all the cute chicks I've been having crushes on.

"Lai Lai Hei"

2008-12-20T22:49:00.004+05:30

Just came back from my fourth and last Livewire here at Mood Indigo...

and I feel unbelievably exhilarated. Watched two stupendous acts live: MotherJane and Ensiferum!

Spent the past few days exploring Mumbai:

On the 16th, took a look at Soham's office (Deloitte) in Hiranandani along with Soham and Apoorv.

Went to Malad on the 17th. Visited Mindspace, Inorbit, and the gardens behind each of them. I guess I had most fun walking on the streets, eating at Papa John's Pizza for the first time (I must recommend it to you, it's delicious and very cost-effective) and, yeah, during the bus rides. :D

The next day, visited Soham's home in Kharghar. Wasn't anything much to see over there, so just ate at McDonald's in a local mall, and met a couple of Soham's friends (Nikita and Shiny). Again, walking through the streets was what I did (and enjoyed) most. Also visited a local temple. Stayed at Soham's for the night. Had a stomach orgasm eating Aunty's handmade chicken curry (the very memory evokes a delicious stream from within my palate...)

Returned back to IIT by noon next day, and lazed around during most of the day. Visited Hiranandani (yet again) and bought myself a chocolate icecream while I explored HN's depths.

That's how it came to today. Most of the day was spent observing the Mood I crowd (I hate how these outsiders sully the IITB campus. They don't deserve it.) And then came the highlight of the day: Livewire.

Got into the line early, and hence gained entry early. The Livewire competition finalists were good (but nothing extraordinary. Personally, I loved "Black". Wonder why they didn't qualify). They were followed by MotherJane with their mix of Alternative Metal and Indian Carnatic music. The guitar solo intro by the lead guitarist (mixed with complex ragas and structures) was enough for me to fall in love with the band's sound. Though most of the audience thought otherwise. They played some originals and a cover of "Hallowed Be Thy Name" by Maiden. Enjoyed their music to the hilt.

Following them were the Folk/Viking Metal band from Finland, Ensiferum. And though I'm not too big a fan of their music (Too epic and too generic in composition for my taste), I enjoyed every moment of their act. Reason: The Sound. It was unbelievably powerful. Meanwhile, I went ahead and involved myself in a few moshes (hurt my wrist in the process :D).

Next in line is Opeth this January at IITM!
I'm dying to visit this gig.

P.S. Will upload a few pics from the past 4 days soon.

Coming Back to Life

2008-12-17T13:33:00.008+05:30

"I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past
...and coming back to life"

Something stirred deep within me when I heard these lines a couple of days ago. Following them is a soulful guitar solo, and I'm already on my way to someplace within myself. Places I've been to before flash past me as I ascend the barriers of my own self.

It's been exactly an year since I wrote about the longest day in my life. It taught me a lot, but I didn't learnt much from it.

Another Mood I approaches, and it reminds me of the Toenail I broke in the last one.

Ensiferum are coming here this time, and that transports me back to the Iron Maiden concert...

The previous semester materialises in front of me. With it, memories of elation, control systems, AMK, the struggle to find an Internship, Opeth, and of course, Binaural Signal Processing.

L&T trickles into my mind. The ultra-posh cubicles, the employees with whom I hardly talked, Akshay Garg, the visits from my Mum, the NGR, the MATLAB coding, the yellow L&T buses, the futility and violent internal struggle that led to the lowering of my DC coefficient.

Before L&T I was confused. I considered Management and CAT with some level of seriousness. During my stay at L&T I came to know I cannot stand handling people. It produces within me an extreme anger that I do not wish to meet again.

With this I knew where I wanted to go after IIT. I wanted a technical job. And here began the endless stream of futile dreaming. I wanted to go to nVidia, no... Imagination Technologies, no... Sony, no... Texas Instruments, no... Asus.

The semester started. The "dream" carried on into it. I put dream in quotes because it wasn't a dream at all. It was mere infatuation. Something I didn't want to work for, yet wanted to have. That is not a dream. That is futility.

I could say, "I wish I had someone who had told me all the fundaes before." But an anger akin to the one at L&T bubbles up when I think it. That's because asking for "fundae" is a budding consultant's job. To pretend to be something you never really wanted to be. To give to people what they want.

The past semester has been a period of extreme turmoil in my life. Soham, Shatabdi, Shwetha, and my parents know it better than anyone else. That's because I was standing in line for something I never wanted, only because everyone else was talking about it.

I now have realised: What I want is not what I am infatuated with.
What I want is something I work for. You cannot force yourself to work for something you don't want.

It's the Placement season here at IITB. And it's bad. Only 50% of students have been offered jobs as compared to last year. The ongoing financial crisis acted as a reagent and the terrorist attack acted only as a catalyst.

Until about a fortnight ago, I was still deep within my rut. The placement process started. A gloom lay over here at IITB (32 students placed on the first day compared to 93 last year). Companies came, took a couple of students, and went away.

This brought upon me the breaking of my "dream", and a sudden, sweet release. I felt a freedom and joy I hadn't felt since L&T. Something had broken, and I realised that was what put me into shackles. And I came back to what I wanted: Software.

With that, I applied for Avaya.7th December

6:30 AM: Woke up for the Texas Instruments test. Hurried up to IC 2 and gave it.

8:00 AM: After the Texas Instruments test, hurried up to IC 1 for Avaya's test. It consisted of Programming and Operating systems questions (which I was naturally good at) and "Aptitude" questions, which I had become good at due to practice. :D

9:00 AM: The test ended, and I headed back to home (strange, isn't it, I've started to call this room my home), giddy and knowing that the test went well.

11:15 AM: Was notified by the Placement Blog (That's how we keep in contact) about me being shortlisted for an interview at 11:30 AM.

11:35 AM: Arrived at the venue (MB 6B) and had some casual talk with some of the company representatives standing there.

11:40 AM: The interview began. There were a couple of them, and I was asked a wide range of questions including HR, my projects, technical knowledge (including TCP/IP, which I had learnt only about a month ago, that too due to my Project in CS431) and coding knowledge.

I answered them as I could. With my recent release, I had gained a certain cheer with a "What have I got to Lose?" attitude.

12:10 AM: Shook hands with the interviewers, and left the room.

7:00 PM: Was playing my guitar at my room when I was informed about my selection.

No; I didn't jump with joy or cry with tears. In fact, there was hardly any mood change within me, except the thought, "I'm going to Pune!". The reason: I was already in my best spirits. That's because I had come back to my pie since my release from my "dreams". That, and nothing else mattered to me.

"I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And I headed straight..into the shining sun"

Yes, I have come back to my Life.

P.S. They're gonna pay me Rs. 7 Lakhs per annum.

P.P.S. Apologies for the jumbled and garbled mess of language, thoughts, and form this post is. But I'm in no mood to change it anymore, so it stays this way.

The Tasty Pie

2008-12-07T19:00:00.000+05:30

The room was empty when I walked inside. In front of me lay a table and on that table lay a pie. I took a whiff; it smelled awesome. That prompted me to take a byte out of it. The taste stirred my very existence. The satisfaction it gave to me was unmatched.

The very next moment, however, a horde of people appeared inside the room. I left the pie alone and gazed around. The room suddenly seemed much larger. There were many more tables and pies now.

Everybody was talking about a certain pie they wanted to have. They queued up quickly to get it. Looking at them, I forgot about my pie and joined the line.

The queue moved slowly. The wait was frustrating. Every passing moment would remind me of my pie. That made the wait even more torturous. Yet, I did not endeavour to break the line. I still wanted the pie everybody was talking about. Meanwhile, there were people collecting near my pie.

When I finally reached the front of the queue, I found only crumbles of the pie left. I put a few of them in my mouth. They didn't stir me at all.

At that moment, a strange relief spread over me. I rushed towards my pie. Sure, it had been half-eaten. But it still gave me the same pleasure. And Nothing else matters. I know how to bake it once again.

Forks

2008-12-03T03:03:00.002+05:30

Back when I was in class XIIth, in the throes of raging hormones, knee-deep into preparations for my Boards, JEE and other examinations, I had the first crisis of my Life. I guess it was just waiting to happen; all it needed was a trigger. And a simple, meaningless incident provided that.

As I remember it, me and my brother discovered a nailpolish removing lotion my Mom had bought. Intrigued, I took out some of it, and being alcohol-based, it evaporated instantly. Some of the vapours reached my Nose. It felt cold on my fingers. I was absolutely stunned.

Inside my mind, something snapped. It came down upon me - all at the same time:

Who am I?
Who am I?
What am I?
What does it all mean?
Why do I exist?
Why am I standing here?
Why am I thinking all this?
Run! Run away from it!

I felt myself short of breath. My heart raced. Adrenaline pumped in. My legs felt extremely powerful and agile. I felt a strong urge to run away. Where, I didn't know. Just some place else.

I was afraid. Very afraid. But of what, I didn't know. It certainly wasn't about the stupid Nailpolish remover. But the fear took hold of me. I was fear, nothing else.

It didn't help that my parents weren't at home. I walked outside and took deep breaths. I tried to distract myself into looking at the surroundings. That didn't help much. Somehow, within a few minutes, the feeling subsided. I felt extremely shaken.

It didn't stop there. From that day forth, I was visited by these episodes twice or thrice per day. Sometimes it was awkward (in classes), sometimes it was dangerous (would happen to me while I was driving). But every time, it was the same: the intensity, the duration, the fear.

Within a few weeks, I was under heavy depression. I felt out of Love, out of Power, out of Hope, but most importantly, out of Meaning. I would weep for no reason at all: I just felt like weeping. My thoughts assumed a very "dark" and scientific approach. I would attach a "why" in front of everything. Ranging from the strange (Why do I move the hands the way I did) to the extreme and discomforting (Why don't I pick up that stone and hit myself or those around me?). Note that I had no such intentions. I just wanted to find a reason for everything.

Yes, you're getting it right - I was discovering my self. It was the first time I discovered my Freedom. Of course, a constant theme in my thoughts would be Death. From freedom I arrived upon Isolation (realising that I alone am my controller) and then finally, Meaninglessness.

It took a lot of support from my parents, counseling, yoga, medical diagnoses and three long months for me to get out of it. It was all baffling to my parents. They didn't know what it was or why it happened. The most surprising thing was, neither did I.

It's been 5 years since that happened, and a couple of months ago, I stumbled upon it: what I had gone through was an existential crisis. Briefly, an individual goes through an existential crisis when they ponder deep enough to realise that life has no inherent meaning. They realise that existence has no definite purpose, and it confounds their brain, making them extremely conscious of reality and existence. Soon, everything around them seems meaningless. They realise that reason is nothing but a human creation, and that propels them deep into Fear. Because they become so aware of their own freedom that they start doubting it.

It's like the fear you experience when standing on the edge of a cliff. You might know that nothing behind you will push you into the cliff, but you doubt your own self-control and ask what if...

Existential crisis happens to people generally in their mid 30s (also called the mid-life crisis). However, it can happen to young people as well.

Having just come out of another crisis in my life (which I will describe later), I wanted to write about something that everyone of us knows, but few realise: Choice.

Every moment you are alive, every breath you take, is a set of choices you are making. Every passing second you decide to take some new choices, and these affect the choices you made before. Each and every moment you live, your very existence represents nothing but these choices.

Everything about you: the way you talk, the way you walk, the way you see, the way you dress, the way you think, and most importantly, the way you act, is just a magnificent statement about the choices you have taken (counsciously or uncounsciously). It's these choices that define You.

One look at a person is all that it takes for someone to understand the choices he/she has taken. There is nothing magical about it. Understanding someone else requires you to ask yourself what choices you would make to be that person. This is not something difficult, as we keep making choices all the time. So our ability to judge is something inherent to us.

But then what makes us choose what we choose?
The answer is: Love. Or the want of something.

This is how you define yourself: by making choices, which, in turn, define you.

The past few months of my life, I've been in a deep rut. And I have realised something important out of it.

We all have a choice.

You can choose to follow what you Love.
Or you can choose to live only to impress everyone else.

Time to make the right choice.

Creatures of the Night

2008-11-18T20:17:00.007+05:30

It's 1:45 AM.

Internet's long gone.

Your head's dizzy from all the Mealy and Moore machines.

You're hungry.

Here's where you head to:

H3 Canteen : Heaven

This place has all the ambiance: Crackly radio music for your early pleasure, Excessively courteous service, A constant inflow of impatient and rowdy customers, A mosquito breeding ground nearby, and of course, the entertaining scurrying of rats the size of your hands.

You give your order, and within the span of minutes (which you spend ogling at notice boards) you have:

Yay! Egg Hakka Noodles!

A few seconds of acquiring which you are visited by:

That's a very despo Dog. Hence he is named, "Bona".

While this guy keeps his seat:

That's a big dog, hence he is called "Madan". Poor guy, old age has caught up with him.

I have spent countless nights at this place, eating various versions of Noodles (Veg, Egg, Chicken, Hakka, Schezwen). Canteens are an integral part of Life at IITB, right from the first week of your stay here, because 1) The Mess Food is icky, and/or 2) They're open upto 2:00 AM.

Initially I preferred eating at H2 canteen (H2 being my hostel), but soon the quality of food degraded, which led me to switch to H3 during my second year (partly due to Soham). Intermittently, I have visited and enjoyed H1 and H5 canteens too (H3 is still the best).

I developed my resistance to mosquito bites at these places, along with my liking for chocolate shakes, and my dislike for Himesh Reshammiya. Also a lot of big discussions of my life have taken place at these canteens (regarding academics, music, internship, career, professors, females etc.).

The people with whom I would visit these canteens have changed along with time too, and so did the preference of food which I ordered.

Most of all, the canteens here will remind me of the nocturnal way of life at IITB.

The TRUTH

2008-11-14T17:59:00.002+05:30

I think this topic has been doing rounds in my heads for about a month now. It keeps nudging my brain, like the irritating unprepared guy behind you when you're giving an exam. I keep telling it that I've written about it before, but it just won't leave my head in peace. So here goes:

The Truth. It's a concept almost everyone seems to be obsessed with. Not because they respect it, but because everyone seems to be so adamant about their version of the Truth. You're walking down the road and you hear stuff like:

"My Truth is better than your Truth"

"It's the Truth because I say it is the Truth"

"Apologise for what you said, because it didn't conform to my Truth"

"Wow, that's so True..."

"Oooh, the news channel's showing a murder case, I'm sure it must be the servant"

"Abortion should be banned because it violates my Truth"

Everyone has a different version of the Truth. Only a few will work hard enough to ensure that their version is based on the actual Truth (yes, there is a true Truth, and the Truth is out there... *eerie music in background*) . Some will make sure that nobody else can deny their own Truth (this species is commonly referred to as "Fascist", also see Adolf Hitler). And some cannot tolerate it if someone else denies their Truth (I think I'm one of them, eeks). Some deem it suitable to educate everyone else in their Truth. The others just keep it to themselves.

This is what I wrote about in the story a couple of posts ago.

Speaking of posts, my Blog hasn't been immune from the "Truth Wars". Take this post, for example. I saw something, and I wrote about my opinion on my Blog. But it was soon taken as an imposition of my Truth on everyone else. A couple of gentlemen couldn't stand seeing someone else denying their Truth, and made it their business to "educate" me with it.

On the same post, you can observe another "Truth War", between a couple of my readers, which ultimately led to Ayushi, my favourite commentor, leaving my blog.

The question that comes to my mind after experiencing this was: "Why the hell are you so concerned if I refuse to adhere to your version of the Truth? If it is really the Truth, does my denial/approval make any difference? Does your denial/approval make any difference?"

Remember my post about Ex Falso Quodlibet some time ago? I think the solution to that paradox is this :"Just becuase you say it's the Truth, doesn't make it the Truth". Truth cannot be a statement, it's something that exists. Only its existence makes it the Truth, not a statement asserting it. So if a statement says "This statement is False", it doesn't mean anything, the statement is not referring to anything that exists (it's referring to a statement).

One of the things I like about ancient India is the respect they had for the Truth. They believed in things, and they didn't care if others believed it or not. They didn't go around the world forcing people to convert to their religion (I'm not endorsing any religion here, I think religion's unnecessary. Oh wait. Did I hurt someone's Truth here?)

It's sad to see that their descendants are resorting to intolerance. Religious fascism on the name of Hinduism is so popular these days. Everything that concerns the nation must adhere to their version of the Truth. Anything that doesn't is a "Western" influence. No wonder Amartya Sen slams them in his book.

Absolutism (or in Ayn Rand's words, the complete absence of an ego) is the biggest threat to human existence. Being Indian, I respect the respect ancient Indians had for the Truth. I abhor Absolutism.

P.S. Feel free to disagree with any part of the post.

A Lot to Y(e)arn

2008-11-09T21:19:00.002+05:30

That I cast a faint glow upon the walls assured me I was dreaming; that a stretching corridor lay ahead of me made me go on. The walls constituted of loose-fitting rocks, put together, it seemed, by enslaved arms. Yet, they were strong enough to keep me inside. I couldn't perceive to what extent they rose; the only illumination came from me, enabling me to see only as far as an arm's length.

This light fascinated me. I wanted to look at a mirror. I carried on, fueled by curiosity.

A few steps ahead, the walls turned slightly. The bend aggravated as I followed, leading me to a wider, more spacious corridor. This time, however, there was light: emerging from doors carved through the wall on the left. There were doors as far as I could look.

As I neared them, a babble of voices arose; multitudes of them. Each spoke in a different, idiosyncratic tongue. I couldn't decipher any of them. Nevertheless, I felt a certain joy; the glow around me brightened.

The first door led me to a cavernous room. The sole occupant stood at the center, a brilliant glow flashing from him. Every detail of the vast chamber was at its mercy. I felt a certain warmth looking at him. The boom in his voice echoed everywhere. I tried to speak; no sound escaped me. I tried gesticulating, but he didn't seem to notice me. He carried on, while I came back to the corridor, noticing that the door I came from had the brightest light of them all.

The next door, however, was as dark as the corridor. Peeking inside, I was surprised to find it contained a soul. He spoke in whispers loud enough to pierce the air around him, however, his glow was feeble. I felt awkward around him, but I tried attracting his attention nevertheless. Yet again, I failed to do so. As I was leaving, I felt the glow around him diminish further. I hurried out, haunted by the whispers.

The next door was brighter. I entered it to find not one, but many people, all tangled up with each other through a single rope. They kept pulling at their bounds, restraining everyone else further as a result. Their glows fluctuated as they did so. They kept making squeamish noise, none louder than the other. None made an effort to free himself even if he could. Nobody noticed me here either.

I proceeded to the next room, which was brighter than its predecessor. Here again were a lot of people bound among each other through a single rope. This time, however, none of them struggled, keeping to their places. They spoke in faint whispers, reminiscent of the man in the second room. Their glows had a dull quality about them, none of them brighter than any other. I didn't feel like talking to any of them, but I tried nonetheless, failing again.

The next room had a mediocre glow. I entered to find it, yet again, occupied by many people. All but one of them had extremely faint glows around them. They were wrapped in rope, all leading to one single person - the one with the bright glow. There was a palpable anguish in this room, amidst the malicious laughter of the one with the ropes. He kept pulling them, swerving his minions as he desired. The others moaned as they kept tugging at their ropes. I felt afraid, and left the room soon.

There were many more doors ahead of me, but I didn't want to go any further. I wanted to wake up - this dream was turning into a haunting nightmare - but it was then that I noticed, hung on the wall in front of me, a mirror. My curiosity arose. I made towards it with impatient steps as the image in it grew clearer.

But a strong tug stopped me; with horror I looked down to discover a thick rope around me. It kept pulling me back. The glow around me was beginning to dim. I screamed out loud. The mirror kept moving away from me.

I wanted to wake up, but I couldn't. I realised it in my struggle: this wasn't a dream at all.

Evolved

2008-11-01T23:43:00.005+05:30

The Lioness came across a strange sight when she returned back home:

The Lion had a Goat cornered in the cave, and in between them lay a piece of meat.

"Eat this, or I will kill you!", said the Lion to the Goat.

Confounded, the Lioness asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to act like a Human."

Smooth Pleasure

2008-10-31T22:41:00.003+05:30

I'll remember the moments I had,
The comfort of having you around.
The faint glows emanating from you,
How you hardly uttered any sound.

How endless pleasures you enabled,
How I would stroke your features.
Your very countenance rebelled,
Against the pink backgrounds.

I cannot forget how I cared for you,
The ways I would wipe the mud off.
Sleek you were and very strong too,
But things don't last forever.

I recall I bought you for Rs.500,
You were a cute little thing.
But my dear Rat's kindred,
It hurt me when you broke your wheel.

You wandered away from me,
And your cables turned loose.
Soon you wouldn't respond kindly,
And would shut yourself off.

So when today (after months) I stroked,
The wheel of your replacement;
Waves of pleasure were evoked,
And ran through me like little children.

Thus, with much pain I bid adieu,
To you, Oh my adorable mate.
You shall always be remembered,
My dearest Optical Mouse.

...Uh, yeah, my optical mouse is officially dead. It had been troubling me for the past 3 months. A couple of days ago, it stopped working completely. Poor little thing.

Metal 2008

2008-10-20T22:07:00.000+05:30

Once upon a time, it was the early 90s. Microsoft was on its rise to power, and so was Intel. The Soviet Union was breaking up, and so was the Berlin wall. And the Gulf War was declared by George H.W. Bush.

Amongst it all, the genre of music known as Metal was dying. Iron Maiden was beginning to dismantle with Adrian Smith leaving the band followed by Bruce Dickinson. Judas Priest's Rob Halford left the band. Metallica left their Thrash Metal roots towards a mainstream sound and further down the decade completely switched over to a more alternative sound. Black Sabbath was already in a shabby state, and due to constant change in band personnel lost consistency. Grunge was in, laying the foundations for alternative rock. Some of the mainstream bands that remained metal were facing trouble, Megadeth's success plummeted after Marty Friedman left the band in in 1999, after the release of "Risk", featuring a very mainstream sound.

However, Metal never died; it just shifted from mainstream to its righteous origins: the underground. For though the popular mainstream bands were plummeting into disaster, newer, heavier, much more innovative and talented bands were beginning to emerge: Stratovarius, Children of Bodom, Opeth, Symphony X, Arch Enemy... only some of the names. However, most of them belonged either to the Black Metal, Death Metal or the Progressive scene.

I'm sure fans of the original "Heavy Metal/Thrash Metal" sound (like me) must have felt it did not have any future, with only bands like Slayer, Kreator, Testament, Sepultura, creating anything, but nothing spectacular. (Though a variant of the sound did keep alive through Power Metal bands such as Stratovarius, Iced Earth, Sonata Arctica, Gamma Ray, Helloween, but it wasn't just as heavy and powerful.)

But come 2000, things began to change once again, and it was time for revival. Bruce Dickinson returned back to Iron Maiden and released a new album "Brave New World" which was a brilliant comeback to their original style, and soon after relased "Dance of Death" in 2003 which was a landmark in innovation in Heavy Metal. 2003 also marked a step lower in Metallica's career, as they released "St. Anger" while going through some heavy problems. Ozzy Osbourne returned back to Black Sabbath and the band regained a lot of popularity. And then Rob Halford returned back to Judas Priest during 2004 followed by the release of a spectacular album "Angel of Retribution" in 2005, which featured the style that the band is known for : Pure, Hellish, Heavy Metal.

So that's how the scene stood as of 2008: Heavy Metal was on its way back up, Death Metal, Black Metal and Progressive Metal had well established acts, and were the single most important force in the global metal scene. And then Metallica declared they would release a new album this year. So did Judas Priest. So did Children of Bodom. So did Opeth. Yes, the prospects looked amazing.

So how did it turn out? Let's have a look with my reviews of some of the albums released during 2008 (in no particular order):

First up, we have "We are the Nightmare" from Arsis, one of the notable Technical Death Metal bands. If you can appreciate odd, complicated time signatures played at incredible speed and dexterity, this album is for you. Drummer Darren Cesca plays with superhuman skill, and the voice of the drums, besides the vocals, play the lead role in almost all of the songs. The album left me stuck with an eternal blast beat playing in my head. Also, some of the songs ("We are the Nightmare", "Servants of the Night", "Falling Winds of Hopeless Greed", "Overthrown", "Failure's Conquest") feature beautiful, memorable pieces of complex music. A must have for anyone who can appreciate Extreme and complex music.

Compositions: Very Good. Though the guitars aren't "in your face", the riffs are extremely detailed, and the songs are structured very well, though they do lack peaks and valleys, as the intensity of the music is mostly constant. The album is scattered with neoclassical phrases and melodies.

Rhythm: Brilliant. In fact, some of the passages are exceptional. To someone who can appreciate complex time signatures, this is like an orgy.

Emotion: Good. The album mostly has a doomy, serious feel to it. Adventure and fantasy are some of the emotions that the album evoked, and they are difficult emotions to bring out. However, due to the lack of peaks, the strength of emotion is low.

Sound: The album features a very sharp, sophisticated sound as opposed to the usual guttural, extremely distorted sound found on death metal records. Vocalist James Malone's growls are high pitched and raspy instead of guttural, and suit the guitars' sound very well. The drums, as mentioned previously, have a very dominant role, even if their sound is mostly in the background.

Catchiness: Low. Due to the album's technical and speedy nature, there are few things that retain on the mind (except probably the blast beats). Though I'm not complaining. :D

Testament released their previous album in 1999. And they're back with a bang with "The Formation of Damnation" this year. The album features a very unique, melodious, heavy sound which is what attracted me to it initially. It is very close to the original Heavy Metal sound (in fact, Thrash Metal) with a jazzy, classical feel. The songs are brutal and heavy, yet maintaining a sophisticated mood. A must check out for anyone who's interested in brilliant jazz inspired guitar riffs and blazing, melodic solos. Also one for heavy rhythm lovers.

Compositions: Very Good. Featuring some "oriental" sounding riffs and jazz-influenced solos, the album surely is innovative. However, song structures (especially the latter half of the album) tend to get monotonous and some of the songs feel repetitive.

Rhythm: Brilliant. One of the landmarks of this album is the exceptional drumming by Paul Bostaph. Scathing Beats, whizzing drumrolls, heavy double bassing, you've got it all here. The guitar riffs along with the drum and the bass produce some memorable "bang your head to" sections (for example, the title track).

Emotion: Mediocre. Some of the themes that are evoked are loss, gloom, revenge, anger, non-conformism and strength of spirit. However, these are repetitive in songs and get monotonous within three to four songs of the album.

Sound: As mentioned, the sound is reminiscent of Heavy Metal/Thrash Metal with some innovative feel and raspy growling. The drums have a very prominent role.

Catchiness: Good. The Album features some very memorable sections ("The Formation of Damnation", "For the Glory of...", "Henchmen Ride", "More Than Meets the Eye") to bang your head to.

With the release of "Angel of Retribution" in 2005, Judas Priest came back and proved that they were still the masters of the genre they had innovated during the 1970s: Heavy Metal. Thus, when they announced that they were working on a concept album, expectations rose. However, the 2 disc album (almost 2 hour long!) is mostly a disappointment. The sound and the compositions in the album feature an epic feel, but extremely monotonous and even sleep-inducing in some parts. Nostradamus was part of the band's experimentation with music, however, it proved to be too detailed an experiment. Being a fan of the classic Judas Priest sound, I am disappointed; However, this might be interesting for those who enjoy Epic sounds and Power Metal.

Compositions: Good. Compositionally, the album is detailed and in some places attractive ("War", "Alone", "Sands of Time"+"Pestilence and Plague"). However, there is nothing innovative or striking about them. Mostly it feels operatic, much like a background score.

Rhythm: Mediocre. For the same man who played on "Painkiller" and "Hellrider" this album is nothing special. Scott Travis plays nothing exceptional and attention catching, adding to the mediocrity of the album, except probably, the title track.

Emotion: Mediocre. As mentioned, the album has an "epic" feel to it, however, it soon gets old and extremely monotonous. Nevertheless, a couple of pieces ("Alone", "War") shine out and prove that Judas Priest haven't lost their skill at variety.

Sound: The sound is mostly Keyboard dominated, symphonic and operatic. Guitars and drums take a backseat on most of the songs. Vocals, as is to be expected from Rob Halford, are brilliant.

Catchiness: Mediocre. With the exceptions of "Alone", "Pestilence and Plague", and "Nostradamus", there aren't very striking or memorable sections in this album. One thing to note, however, is that the album does feature a few Judas Priest "couples": one song leading into the other.

Take a look at any public forum dedicated to Metallica, and you'll find an ongoing war. There are those who are labeled "Haters" and those who are called "Fanbois," fighting against and for the change in musical direction by Metallica after the Black Album. "St. Anger" proved to be a cherry on the cake for the Haters, establishing that Metallica had lost it, once and for all. So how does "Death Magnetic", one of the most anticipated albums of the year, change the scene? I can't give a definite answer. But yes, "Death Magnetic" is definitely a good Heavy Metal record, and marks a return to form by the band (though not exactly to "Old School" Thrash Metal, as publicised). Featuring a heavy, sophisticated sound (something between "...And Justice for All" and the Black Album), the album is varied and in some places, exceptional and enjoyable. A brilliant effort by Metallica, indeed their best album since the Black album, though the age of the band is clearly audible all along.

Compositions: Very Good. The album features some brilliant composition by James Hetfield in terms of riffs and structures. Songs like "The End of the Line", "Cyanide", "The Judas Kiss", "Suicide and Redemption" feature some talented songwriting and structuring (at places innovative too). The highlight of the album in this regard can be heard on "The Unforgiven III", which features a brilliant buildup and peak. The album at times, however, does feel confused and mixed up ("The Day That Never Comes", "My Apocalypse", "That Was Just Your Life").

Rhythm: Very Good. Lars Ulrich has put a hell of an effort into this and it's clearly audible. And enjoyable. Some of the tracks ("The Judas Kiss", "All Nightmare Long") feature the classic Metallica "Bang your head to" transitions and rhythms. However, nothing innovative can be heard, except probably "Cyanide".

Emotion: Good. The album goes through a variety of emotions and ideas, including strength, speed, fear, sorrow, longing. However, nothing as exceptional as their early work.

Sound: It's difficult to put a finger on a specific sound in the album. It keeps changing from song to song (which is something I like). However, overall, the sound is heavy and loud (yes, the Metallica sound). Hetfield's vocals are disappointing in places, however. Also, at places, you can perceive problems in mixing (especially drums and guitars).

Catchiness: Brilliant. "The Judas Kiss" features an extremely memorable chorus riff and vocal, "Cyanide" has a pretty groovy bassline, "All Nightmare Long" has brilliant dynamic changes and "The Unforgiven III" has a very strong buildup to the solo. Something that really disappoints me, though, is Kirk Hammett's work with the solos. Random, structureless and not even good sounding.

Children of Bodom have always been known for their wild, crazy, style of music with a strong, melodic backbone and Keyboard filled sound. Alexi Leiho's raspy vocals dominate the heavy, often Thrashy riffs and the Guitar-Keyboard tradeoffs (reminiscent of Stratovarius, Dream Theater, Yngwie Malmsteen) are enjoyable most of the time. "Blooddrunk" is precisely a CoB record. All the elements of their original sound are clearly audible, but so are some new elements (Progressive elements like those found on "LoBodomy", groovy techno intro to "Tie My Rope", sheer thrashiness on "Roadkill Morning"). Clearly, if you have been a CoB fan you will enjoy this album.

Compositions: Good. CoB's style of composition has always been unique and innovative. This album is yet again typical CoB featuring their style, that also makes it a bit confusing at time. Also there is a lack of innovation. Highlights would be "LoBodomy", "Blooddrunk" and "Tie My Rope" which have brilliant structures and melodies.

Rhythm: Very Good. Drummer Jasta Raatikainen has always managed to impress me with his skills with the drums (especially double bassing and complex drum rolls). This time too, his presence in the band is as prominent as any other instrument. Probably this is what makes the album difficult to digest initially.

Emotion: Mediocre. Though for most of the album, anger and drunken madness (which features on all CoB, argh on all Heavy Metal albums) dominate the emotions, but barring the title track, there isn't anything exceptional.

Sound: The album features a full range, "complete", thrashy sound. The Keyboards and drums have as much a prominent role as the guitars and the voice. And no, the bass isn't pushed behind either. A treat for those who like their songs crunchy and heavy.

Catchiness: Low. Except probably the first track, the title track, "Roadkill Morning" and "One Day You Will Cry" there are hardly any catchy sections on the album.

If you take a look at descriptions of Metal music, you would find it termed as "popular music" as opposed to "art music"/"erudite music". That is indeed the case for most of Metal. However, Opeth has been one of the bands that, in my opinion, oppose this conception. Frontman Mikael Akerfeldt's prowess at composition and innovation can be clearly heard on all of their albums. Songs, on an average, are 9 minutes long and feature various transitions, moods, styles, rhythms and melodies, all built upon a framework of Death Metal. "Watershed" is yet again an example of brilliance in music. For previous Opeth fans, however, it has been a bit difficult to digest because it is much more subtle than their last few albums, and features a change in direction (yet again) from the band. However, as always, the music and compositions are brilliant. I discover more and more of the album every time I listen to it, and that makes me fall in love with it even more.

Compositions: Brilliant. Mikael Akerfeldt has always been good at composition both acoustically ("Coil", "Burden") and in Death Metal styles ("Heir Apparent", "Hessian Peel"), and this album is no exception. Also inputs from Keyboardist Per Wiberg are clearly audible ("The Lotus Eater"). The album is extremely innovative all along, and a different kind of experience altogether.

Rhythm: Good. After 2005's "Ghost Reveries", Martin Lopez, the exceptionally talented drummer from Opeth left the band. This album features the work of Martin "Axe" Axenrot. And I, for one, miss Lopez's brilliant structures (especially the 6/8 beats). However, Axenrot isn't very far behind and his contribution is pretty significant too ("Heir Apparent", "Porcelain Heart").

Emotion: Brilliant. The album goes through a whole range of emotions from Love and longing in the first track, through mystery, anger, and confusion and then "high" psychedelia, fantasy, medieval in "The Lotus Eater", "Burden" and "Porcelain Heart" to an obscure, bleak ending in "Hex Omega". And that's only a brief description.

Sound: It's difficult to put a finger on a specific sound in the album. It changes from song to song. While "Coil" and "Burden" are soft and acoustic, "Heir Apparent" and "Hessian Peel" are extremely heavy, and "The Lotus Eater" and "Porcelain Heart" have unique sounds of their own. An interesting thing to note is the strange and creepy sounds used in the album, laughter, conversations, a guitar being constantly detuned while playing a sequence of arpeggios.

Catchiness: Mediocre. Though some sections are extremely attention catching (Keyboard section in "The Lotus Eater", Lead Guitar theme in "Porcelain Heart", Guitar detuning in "Burden"), most of the album is very subtle in structure to catch attention or impinge upon memory.

...And those are just some of the Metal albums released this year (Iced Earth, Ayreon, Norther, Amon Amarth have released albums, too). Overall, 2008 was an year of expectations and excitement if you were a Metalhead, with albums from Judas Priest, Opeth, Metallica to look forward to. I'm relatively new to this genre, and this was the first experience with new work from well-established bands, and early 2008 I found myself thinking about how it would be like. Well, it hasn't been anything special, it's just like listening to an album you've never heard. In fact, I've found, it's better not to keep any expectations.

I think Heavy Metal is on the rise again, with Metallica, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Megadeth, Testament reverting back to the sound I so much love. But at the same time, almost everyone is moving on, experimenting, trying to forge something new and changing directions. So maybe we might be part of a revival, back to the glory of Heavy Metal. Or maybe we're reaching the stage where Metal has become a Template to improve upon (like Jazz became after 1960s). I hope it's the former.

Guest Post Time

2008-10-10T11:56:00.004+05:30

Usually I would avoid doing guest posts, but this time, since Kirti has been generously providing me with Chocolate Cakes and Icecreams (They were delicious, too), here's a story I did for her blog.

So next up, following Ishaan, will be a review of the Global Metal scene and releases during 2008.

...And This is Not One of Them Part V

2008-09-23T19:19:00.002+05:30

Sometimes things irritate me. To the core. Things people say, things they do.

I don't know why I care about them, maybe I'm not as strong as my beliefs.

It's one of my habits to entangle myself in internal conflicts. I like to think I lack imagination, that I lack the one thing that is required to achieve what I respect most, originality.

But, surprisingly enough, it is often I who proves myself wrong. I've always given instincts the highest priority: I've always believed my body and my mind already know what's good for me. I believe that hearing them out would lead me to what I want. That has been my guiding principle.

On many occasions I've submitted to my instincts, and they've always been moments I felt a sense of extreme power. They've always shown me that I am much much more than I believe myself to be. And it is due to those that I've learnt to stop my conscious mind from labeling myself.

But often I grow weak enough to stop following what I've learnt. That leads me to situations where my instincts surprise me yet again, hence bringing resolution to my internal conflicts. I don't lack an imagination. I just don't pay heed to it, thinking it is wrong (thus going against my instincts). And hence, once again, my self has told me it was wrong to label myself.

So when I meet people, when I talk to them, even when I see one glance (maybe something they wrote), my instincts start working and buzzing me. They tell me a lot, and I see recurring themes everywhere: facades, shows, drama, acceptance, guilt, loss of satisfaction, loss of a direction, loss of a self. Prisoned beings, knowing how to free themselves, but acting as if they do not, just because they are afraid of shining. Just because they think nobody would like them if they are free.

Is it just my imagination? Don't people tell me all the time, "You have no idea how it really is"? Do my instincts cringe in disgust just because I've a deep rooted hate for everyone else?

Maybe this is how Mikael Akerfeldt from Opeth felt when he wrote:

"There is deep prejudice in me
Outshines all reason inside"

I don't think so. I believe in my instincts, they've been my best guides and there is not one occasion where they have disappointed me. On the contrary, I have sometimes disappointed myself by not listening to them. So when they act on my behalf over others, it's because of a combination of my imagination and my instincts' desire to know what I want.

It is not due to a deep set prejudice that makes me feel disgust, it's because I care for them enough that my instincts are acting for their benefit.

This has been a generalisation bashing series on my blog, and I have not vented out for nothing, because the above rambling has a relation to what I'm about to say.

Sometimes little things people say irritate me, automatically. Those are my instincts acting up. Later, when I give a thought, these "wise sayings" get back to me and I ask myself why I dislike them, and my instincts give me most satisying answers.

"Beggars cannot be Choosers"

Aren't beggars what they are because they choose to be beggars?
Doesn't that make them Choosers essentially?

Thus, in the first place, limiting yourself by saying that "you cannot choose because you're a beggar" is one of the most stupid things I've come across. If you can choose to be a beggar, why can't you choose to be something else?

Reminisces: First Year, Spring Semester

2008-09-21T13:41:00.010+05:30

Probably one experience I'll never forget is the New Year Eve's Party at the Railways Clubs with my parents. We would assemble at the Railways Club in the evening, enjoy a lot of fun and games, and then indulged in wild dancing (for some, alcohol). Almost 4 hours of intense music and lots of fun, followed by a countdown at the stroke of midnight and a traditional 1 minute power shutdown.

Me and my brother would ensure that the first people we greeted were our parents. We would find them and share hugs; there was no better way to start the new year.

My second semester here at IITB began after my first Mood Indigo: on the 1st of Jan 2006. It was my first New Year's without my parents. Me and a few friends gathered together and decided to spend our time in Galleria, Hiranandani - an IITian's favourite pastime spot (more about Hiranandani in a later post). We ate at some fancy joint and we counted down the seconds to the new year, as we reveled in the excellent fireworks display courtesy of Rodas hotel. But it just wasn't the same. I missed my parents terribly and what with all the phone lines being blocked due to traffic, I couldn't even wish them for about half an hour. I still have the SMS my Dad sent me on this occasion to cherish.

Not everyone had decided to stay at the campus for Mood Indigo like I did. The wing was desolate a day or two before the semester would begin, except me, Neelmani and Ajay. Soon people began to pour in, and the wing was alive again. We greeted each other and braced ourselves for the heaviest semester in all of our four years.

The campus was chilly and cold in early January; I remember pulling over heavy blankets while sleeping. But as the semester progressed, we saw a beautiful transition from cold to hot: Spring. The trees blossomed, the leaves shined, the flowers bloomed, everything looked bright and shiny. It felt warm and wonderful as I would wander along the roads. Around mid-February, things began to change from pleasant to irritatingly hot. I would find myself covered in sweat within a minute's walk. With the semester heavily endowed with courses, that meant loads of uncomfortable situations.

Pretty soon, the sun began to mount (especially on my head), and I began to resort to icecream: Cornettos sold at the canteens. It almost became an addiction, I would sometimes have two in a day. I made sure I would have one before attending the (excruciating) Engineering Drawing sessions in the afternoon. Nevertheless, the icecreams soon weared off me. But the heat did not, it was the same - upto the very last day.

That was about the weather. One of the first things to happen to me this semester was the tragic demise of my beloved MP3 player. It was the one source of entertainment I had (besides my phone, which my Mom and I had bought from Fort after I contracted Bronchitis during my first semester). I felt incomplete without music and radio - I didn't own a computer at that time. Soon, I went ahead and bought a Portable Radio from R Mall in Mulund, something which I used rarely.

I have mentioned in my post describing my first semester about my frequent visits to the Old Software Labs and watching movies there (it was here that I first heard "Nothing Else Matters", laying the foundation for my Love for Rock and Metal). This semester, we had no CS courses, and hence no access to the labs. I began to miss the experience, and hence resorted to walking upto the PC Lab in my department and trying to set up the audio card drivers in order to hear music and watch movies. Soon I found out a way to do so. But I think going to such a long distance in order to watch a movie never felt like a good idea, so I ditched it.

Nevertheless, these visits weren't fruitless. They soon got converted into opportunities for my favourite activity: programming. Somewhere I wanted to learn 3D graphics using OpenGL, and the lab provided me with an ebook version of the famous Redbook. I was hooked, and spent hours trying to configure the gcc compiler to be able to run the example codes provided with the book. As I remember, it was five days before the first program compiled successfully. I jumped with joy. It was during this time that I created my first attempt at Snake using a very inefficient algorithm. I still had a lot to learn before I could move to 3D (which, surprisingly, was provided by the Maths course in that very semester).

With this successful attempt at trying to learn something which I wanted to, I looked forward to other areas: Sports and Music. I was never a sports person. Except Basketball, outdoor games hardly interested me. But coming to IITB, I felt a need for physical fitness, and it was during this semester that I began a daily routine of jogging and visiting the gym. Maybe my body did benefit from this, but I can't really remember. All that I can remember is that I would enjoy these sessions, even if they weren't beneficial.

And then coming to music. First Year students at IITB were supposed to go through NSO (Sports/Music) or NSS (Service) courses. I had wanted to join Basketball, but due to my bronchitis situation, I missed the trials, and ended up joining Keyboard (Music). We would assemble in Kresit and then try our hands (fingers to be precise) at some tunes. It was here that I learnt to read musical notation, and my interest in music began. But Keyboards bored me, and I would watch with awe what people could do with a guitar (yes, the Rock and Metal had begun to have an effect on me).

One of my neighbours (Abde) had bought an acoustic Granada guitar (one of the best acousitc guitars I've played) as he had enrolled in the Guitar NSO. I watched him play, and requested him to lend it to me. I also borrowed "The Guitar Handbook" from another friend (Vishal). Thus began sessions of finger-numbing and ear-aching guitar practice. I progressed from notes to chords and progressions within weeks, and soon I was able to play songs like "Hotel California". And it is due to my Guitar practice that I befriended Soham.

As I have already mentioned, this was a heavy semester, and the courses weren't easy (as I will elaborate at the end of this post). All that and my newfound interests could not share the same space. My academics went down the gutter, and soon it was mid-semester time. That, and the injury due to falling while jogging onefineday stopped my attempts at physical fitness soon. Soon, tension to do well in exams stopped me from visiting the PC lab, and my programming ventures stopped.

Courses here at IITB demand commitment, and with my neglect, I was afraid of failing. I wanted to maximise my chances of earning good grades, and I decided studying with Soham would be a good idea. It was here that I joined him in his excursion to that divine place: GG building. GG (Girish Gaitonde) Building was a series of Lecture rooms and one of the classrooms would be kept open during the night. That provided us with our own chalkboard and lots of empty space.

We would discuss concepts on the board, revise formulaes, and spend whole nights studying for exams in the GG building. We would often be accompanied by girls: friends of Soham's. It was one of the most enjoyable studying experience I had at IITB, and I guess it shows:

(This one was taken using Soham's Nokia 6600 one night before our CH102 Endsemester exam. That's Soham to the left and Ravi to the right. That's a Morrison and Boyd before me.)

Nevertheless all this last moment toil never really got me spectacular marks, and my performance remained low.

This, and the guitar sessions were the roots of my friendship with Soham (something which has lasted upto now). We would attend classes together and with our interest in music, radio became a common bond. We enjoyed listening to Jal avidly and when Radios and TVs began to broadcast "Shayad" by Call, we became fans. We would listen to it all the time on Soham's phone, especially the part where the vocalist screams his lungs out over the groovy riffs from Xulfi and gang.

Another thing worth mentioning here is a kind of decline in Libidogarh's solidarity. The effect of department courses was already visible (with the DICs and the DOCs). We had already started to split up into groups, and making fun and insulting each other seemed to become a serious way to vent off steam. I hated it. I was given labels and I disliked them even more.

But as is always the trend here at IITB, the midsemester marks the beginning of the real semester. Projects, quizzes, assignments, and finally Endsems. It all goes in a whirl. Everything else really stopped mattering. No more PC lab, no more jogging, hardly any guitar. I braced myself. This wasn't an easy time.

The end of this semester was dominated by two things: a pending decision for a branch change to Computer Science, and of course, the End Semester examinations. I'm not sure why I did not apply for a branch change. Probably it was the manifestation of the lazy and "give-up" attitude I had begun to imbibe from IITB. Probably it was because I had already made such a lot of friends in EE and didn't want to adapt to a new environment. Most importantly, I was still confused. I thought I could still pull off studying for the EE courses and studying CS as extra activity. The next semester proved how wrong I was. But well, that's how things stood. I chose not to apply.

So now I come to describe the courses I had to undergo during this semester:

1. PH 104

The course on Quantum Physics. One huge pain in the butt. It was already very complicated, and we had to endure Pragya Das.

2. MA 104

The mathematics course this semester. It was a 8 credit course, which meant lots of work. The initial part of the course involved 3D geometry and Calculus, something which I thorughly enjoyed (my midsem score was 29/30). After the midsems, however, the course shifted to Linear Algebra, which involved matrices and ranks and eigenvalues and eigenvectors. I had difficulty here.

The instructor was Prof. I. K. Rana, who was a strict but efficient teacher. I, however, did not like his way of speech. I was even caught once during the class talking to a neighbour, after which I was asked a question which I successfully answered (to the chagrin of I K Rana and the amusement of the class)

Prof. IK Rana

However, during the tutorials of this course, we had Prof. V.D. Sharma, one of the best professors I've had at IITB.

3. EE 152

One of the best courses I've had at IITB. This was the introduction to Electrical Engineering taught by Prof. V.M. Gadre. The course involved a presentation and a company project, which was a lot of fun.

4. PH 102

The Physics course. Involved Electromagnetics initially, moving on to Relativity towards the end. Taught initially by Prof. C V Tomy, who was a jovial fellow, and then by Prof. D S Misra (yeah that's the one from the newspapers), who was a bit strict but nevertheless intelligent and articulate. The course was mostly fun, as it involved topics I enjoyed.

Prof D S Misra

Prof. C V Tomy

5. CH 102

The Chemistry course. The first part of the course involved Organic Chemistry taught by Prof. INN Nomboothiri. He spoke with a subdued voice, as if he was afraid of the whole class. And with his distinctive South Indian accent, it was indeed fun hearing complex organic compound names from him. He was a big big bore, and sometimes it would make me pity him.

Prof. INN Namboothiri Prof. P. Ghosh

Then came the second half, and this time we had Prof. P Ghosh teaching us Inorganic Chemistry. Now this guy was hyperactive. He spent the whole lecture moving from left to right in front of us frantically moving his arms and his head in trying to explain us the deep mysteries of Inorganic compounds. He spoke with a distinctive "American" accent, pronouncing Metal as "Mellul". I for one would enjoy the lecture only because of the show he put up in front of us.

6. ME 112

The extension to the workshop course from the last semester. Learnt Shaping, Drilling, Welding, and something to do with shaping metal objects while they are rotating.

7. ME 118

Engineering Drawing. One of the most excruciating of courses for the whole semester. We had to go to the drawing hall with drafters, pencils, erasers, and blades and tried to figure out projections and viewpoints and whatnot. The assignments were always mind boggling and the coursebook was ancient.

8. PH 116

The extension to the Physics Lab. As I said, unnecessarily excruciating and the equipment was frustratingly faulty.

9. CH 116

The extension to the Chemistry Lab. Mostly a light course, again with all the lab coats and all the chemicals. On particular experiment I remember is a periodic Chemical reaction, which involved the liquid in the beaker to turn into blue and colourless in regular intervals.

My second semester here at IITB was a precursor of things to come. The excitement of being at IIT was already wearing off, and so was some of my spirit towards academics. Things stopped being fun and started to feel unnecessary. I tried to enjoy, but fell down, literally. But things were still magical and wonderful. After all, this was only a preview.

The Case of the Poisoned Man

2008-09-16T16:45:00.002+05:30

"Being Detective Adelhard Kluge's assistant has never been an easy job." Emil Fuchs wrote in his diary, "He prefers his solitude, and living with him is like living with a ghost. The house's location at the outskirts of the city doesn't help much. There isn't a lot to explore, and folk here don't like to talk much.

People have always compared us to Holmes and Watson, but real life is a lot different and a lot tougher. Doyle never mentioned Watson's plight seriously.

For the past week, Kluge has been more discreet than usual. He keeps sneaking out of the house, never telling me about it. Knowing his temper, I prefer not to ask, but this new whim of his is testing my nerves - I now feel completely alone. I know for sure that he is involved in a new case, because he takes his wretched journal along with him. He hasn't parted with it the whole week. - 24th July 1924"

The next evening, Fuchs saw Kluge leave the apartment in one of his typical disguises, his journal tucked under his arm. Fuchs followed him, careful not to be noticed.

They arrived at a dilapidated old house somewhere in the middle of the old town. There wasn't anyone around. Fuchs remained hidden outside while he saw Kluge enter inside. After a while, seeing nothing happening, Fuchs decided to enter the building.

The house was empty; there was dust, mould and cobwebs all around. nobody seemed to be around, and there was no sign of Kluge. Fuchs looked around, and saw a thick book lying on the floor - Kluge's journal. He picked it up, opened up the bookmarked page, and began reading:

"18/07/24

The Victim's body lay prostrate on the floor. The mouth was foaming, possibly a case of poisoning. Victim had been dead for more than 36 hours.

No signs of a struggle, neither of another person involved in the scene. The police believe it to be a case of suicide through ingestion of Glycol, the symptoms of which are clearly visible on the victim. The victim's recent depressed state of mind also suggested the same.

I was called to the scene soon after the body had been discovered by a neighbour. The victim wasn't seen in the locality before, and the house had been abandoned for some time."

Fuchs turned the page,

"I observed the victim carefully, noting down the symptoms. Next, I searched around the body. Finally, I observed the floor and the area surrounding the building. Subsequently, I told the authorities I would need a week's time.

22/07/04

I have been returning here in disguise every day since, to look for the criminal - this is a murder. Criminals often lurk around their deeds. But to no avail, there was no signs of the criminal in the whole locality. Meanwhile, I am awaiting an important reply from a friend at the Swedish Chemical Laboratory.

25/07/24

The results from the lab arrived today. Have invited the authorities for briefing."

Fuchs felt a slight headache, dismissed it as due to the dust, and kept reading:

"When they arrived, I explained to them the case:

While examining the body, I observed that the victim's nails had spots beneath them; clearly not a symptom of Glycol poisoning. I also found a short red string under his hand. It looked broken from one side. I pocketed it, and sent it soon to the Swedish Chemical Labs to check for a hunch I had.

All that I needed next was a medium for the crime, and I found it on the wooden floor: a scratch; a relatively new one. It was the result of impact of the edge of a hard object with the floor, something which the victim had been holding, but was removed from the scene subsequently. This further intensified my hunch. I awaited the lab results."

Fuchs flipped the page, he felt tired - must be due to all that sun, he continued reading:

"Today the test results have arrived, and they prove my hunch to be correct. The red string belonged to a book: it was a bookmark." - Fuchs felt dizzy, something wasn't right - " The broken end still had traced of binding glue on it. the victim's symptoms matched with those due to inhalation of Pernitrate powder, an obscure substance with similar symptoms as Glycol, except, for example, nail spots. The thread tested positive for the powder." The room was spinning around; Fuchs felt short of breath, he clutched a wall for support.

"The victim was lured into the house and made to read a book - its pages sprinkled with Pernitrate. As he read, he inhaled the powder" - Fuchs couldn't breathe, his sight dimmed as he noticed the red bookmarking thread attached to Kluge's journal; he began to fall - "and soon died, falling as he did, dropping the book on the floor. The criminal then picked it up, leaving behind the bookmarking thread."

Foam poured out of Fuch's mouth as he breathed his last. Adalhard Kluge came out of hiding, picked up his journal, careful not to leave any remnants behind, and left the building.

Exclusive!

2008-09-10T21:23:00.005+05:30

For years we've been presenting to you, our faithful readers, articles, essays, and stories that have been helpful in enriching your lives in the 26th century. And you have rewarded our efforts by continuously supporting our magazine.

In this groundbreaking issue of our magazine, we present Exclusive to our readers, an interview with the enigmatic and controversial figure of Dr. Benjamin Bjord, who succeeded in creating true Artificial Intelligence a few years ago, eventually to destroy his own work and go into hiding where he has remained untraceable.

As I am relieved of my blindfold, the intense glow of parachromatic light pierces my eyes as they accustom to its unfaltering, brilliant lighting. I am seated on a wooden chair, bound by tight ropes everywhere except my arms, which are free to record this conversation on my PDA. The room feels like a laboratory of some sorts with floating computer terminals, half-completed machines and circuits all around.

I hear footsteps, and the tall figure of Dr. Bjord enters the room. He seats himself on a chair opposite to me as I stare at his unkempt face. He greets me with a smile.

Me: Hello, Dr. Bjord. It's nice to see you.

BB: I'm glad to see a new face too. But my time here is precious. Can we skip the pleasantries?

Me: There are a lot of burning questions on my mind, but I'll begin with The Question: How did you succeed in creating A.I.?

BB: Yes, I saw this coming. Honestly, I have no intentions of sharing my secrets, but there's always been this part of me that wants to tell the world about my experiences.

It all began with my quest for shortening code lengths. I had been working on a few tedious projects, and the continuous coding would eat up my brain. The code sections were repetitive - with only a few changes. I noticed these patterns, and created codes that wrote codes to perform simple tasks, displaying a message, for example. In short, I was teaching the computer to code itself.

Things like that had been done before, and the codes required a human control. I wasn't worried about AI, I just wanted as much of ease on my part as possible. So I created code writing codes for a variety of common tasks.

Within a few years I knew I had built enough of a Database to encompass almost all programming knowledge and practices. However, all of them required human comprehension and control to be used. Soon I began thinking of a way to let these codes be used by the computer itself.

Me: How did you do that?

BB: My goal was to create a world within the system: a world that could produce Intelligence. I began with creating challenges: codes that were meant to delete randomly, murderers, if you will. They were strong codes, capable of overriding simple security measures. However, they were not allowed to destroy the Database I had created. It was present freely in the world. Any other code wanting to access them could do it without an effort.

And then, I created the most important components of my world: the "living" codes. All of them were empty to begin with. They had absolutely no abilities except that they could access the Database and execute its codes. But there were three important attributes I provided them with : "Life", "Replicate", and "Enemy".

The Life attribute reflected the presence of that code in the storage. If a code was being deleted, its Life attribute would turn to false. Each code was designed to maximise the amount of storage it occupied, so this was like an alarm.

The Replicate attribute is a bit complex. All I will say about it is that a code could copy itself to another area in the memory only if the Replicate attribute would turn true. However, there were strict conditions before that could happen.

And then, most significantly, I gave them the Enemy attribute. This attribute could take on three values: "The World", "Other Codes", and "None". Initially these values were distributed randomly amongst the codes, but I also gave them the ability to change this attribute.

After all this, I just ran the primary code, which executed the "living" codes simultaneously, assigning them their values, and running the killing codes. Within a few minutes, the system was stalled.

Me: What happened?

BB: I can only guess. The processes were executed in an infinite loop. There was no ending to it. Moreover, they were designed to control. Naturally, they resisted external control, which came from me. The terminal had to be destroyed.

I had fortunately recorded my work somewhere else and began it afresh, this time, slowing the process immensely and allowing a global viewer program that was hardcoded and could not be modified. It gave me access to view each of the codes, their attributes, and how they interacted with each other...

Me: So, what did you see?

BB: The world initially was in extreme chaos. The deleting codes were powerful and prominent, and reigned supreme. But soon, things began to change: the way I wanted them to. The living codes began to evolve.

I mentioned the "Enemy" attribute earlier, it played a vital role in this evolution. Very few codes used their ability to change this attribute. They would fix their attributes very soon:

The codes with "The World" as their enemy were the ones who evolved the first. They were truly the strongest codes in the system, the ones who represented "Intelligence", responsible for anything new to come out of the world. They constantly battled against the database, trying to make sense and trying to create codes to help them against the deletors.

The codes with "Other Codes" as enemies would follow suit soon. They could not accept the fact that some codes were stronger than them, and hence would copy their defenses and modified them in order to help their own purposes. They would never come up with something new. They used these modified codes to fight against the other codes, often with the sole purpose of deleting them. Though their strongest enemy were the "The World" codes, they knew they couldn't harm them. In this way, they constantly fought amongst themselves, trying to prove their superiority...

(We hear a distant ringing in the background, BB gets up from his seat)

BB: Aah, it's time for me to go and you to be sent back where you came from.

Me: But what happened to the codes without an enemy?

BB: (speaking as he leaves the room) Well, most of the codes with "Other Codes" as their enemy liked to pretend that they belonged to this category. They found ways to show that they held this attribute.

But the ones truly without an enemy, well, they soon found ways of deleting themselves.

Rock On

2008-09-03T22:30:00.008+05:30

No, this is not a movie review. I haven't seen the movie. Nor do I intend to.

If there is one thing I care about, it's Originality. "Rock On" the movie, from its very campaign seems to be ridden with stereotypes and plagiarism. And Plagiarism makes me angry. It is the diametric opposite to Originality.

Have a look at the "Rock On" campaign poster:

Look at the "Live Your Dream" headline. Notice the cool sign with wings underneath it. Looks familiar? No? Check this out.
Check out the four band members. All of them are wearing the typical "rocker" outfits: Black T-shirts with "brutal" pictures on them, Jeans and Goggles.
The movie name itself, "Rock On!!!" is nothing original, it's just a popular mode of expression if a band performs well.
And then, finally, beneath the name, is a cassette. Very Original that.

The music (provided by Shankar Ehsaan Loy) is some original stuff, but yes, it's just "Rock music" meant to appeal to popular audiences, with mostly pop-rock and alternative rock influences. I believe SEL can do way better. The song "Dil Chahta Hai" featured a memorable guitar solo, something unforeseen in Indian music, right amidst a beautiful song. But just because this movie had to have "Rock" music, the songs were composed in a definite pattern. Nothing shines out.

About the movie itself, I have no opinions, I haven't seen it. But the point is, I don't want to.

This invites me to write about some real Rock music that has originated from India as well as Pakistan. Music that has originality and uniqueness as its foundation, not some popular culture that is considered "cool" by the masses:

Indian Ocean

Indian Ocean define themselves as "The sound of contemporary India getting to know itself". And I completely agree. Their music derives heavily from Indian Folk Music, including songs, styles, vocals, rhythms, while maintianing a very heavy and true Rock music heaviness. Though they aren't limited just to Rock. They are like Dream Theater in musical styles, they play in any style.

Indian Ocean songs have excellent classical vocal styles, brilliant tabla beats, mixed with heavy drumming, guitar riffs, and guitar solos too, to produce a unique and talented sound.

I recommend "Bandheh" and "Maa Rewa" for those who haven't heard them. (Downloadable Free from the links provided, their own website)

Most importantly, Indian Ocean as a live act is stunningly professional and great sounding. Having attended one of their concerts, I was left stunned at the amount of talent these plainly dressed old guys have.
Fuzon

Featuring the talents of Shafqat Amanat Ali (whom you heard on the song "Mitwa" in the film "Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna"), this band features a brilliant mix of classical Indian music with Jazz and rock styles. Their songs (like "Aankhon Ke Saagar", "Khamaj", "Malhar") are excellently composed and performed.

Sadly, Shafqat left the band to pursue a solo career in India. However the band hired an equally talented Rameez Mukhtar and released a new album featuring the song "Neend Na Aaye" which maintains their standards of music.

Agnee

A single song from them("Saadho Re") was enough to impress me. The song features a compositional style as detailed as Metallica's classic song "Master of Puppets" (though not as detailed and heavy). Their songs are heavy and enjoyable with a very original style.

Apart from these are well known acts such as Jal, Junoon and Call.

I say "Rock On" to their spirit: of having the strength to be original, of trying to create and not sell out to people and their stereotypical minds. They are the future of Indian music.

And yes, before I leave, I must introduce you to two new members of my room:

Say hi to RG321 MH from Ibanez and MG 10 CD from Marshall, my very good pals!
You'll be hearing a lot more from them pretty soon!

...And (S)he Lived Happily Ever After

2008-08-26T16:14:00.008+05:30

A crawling numbness enthralled me, invisible hooks pulling at every corner of my body. It felt like every square inch of my skin were carrying a burden. That's all I could feel the moment I awoke. No, not from a sleep. It was as if I was born again.

I cannot remember anything. How I got here, why I feel this way. Yet, I am not new to the world. I can think, I can process, I can even recognise. I am whole, yet there's this emptiness inside.

I feel my eyes opening. Blurry visions of a bright world stab them in welcome. The numbness has swept over, and I find myself lying on hard ground. I look around, gathering strength to pick myself up. The soil, stretching endlessly, is heavily cracked. Yet, it isn't parched. It looks wet.

I lift myself up, my senses are slowly returning back to me. There is nothing around, just the dried-up land flanked by a clear blue sky. Not even the slightest of wind. I turn around, and gazing in that direction, I feel an approaching force. Something whizzes past me before it can arrive, and as I dive on the ground, it sweeps through me, a wraith-wall of intense cold.

As I recover from its throes, I feel thirsty. A thirst rising in intensity, gripping my identity, suffusing through me. I am thirst, nothing else. I rise up and look around frantically in search of water. The scene looks the same, arid. But wait, is that a Tree I can see? I move towards it, and I see a glimmer beyond it, surrounded by a tinge of green. Water!

I cannot hold it anymore. I break into a run. The Tree is eluding my pace, it does not seem to come near. Maybe distances appear small in such empty surroundings. I must continue to pursue. But the cracks in the ground, their patterns, the way they twist, tear and break the wet soil. There is something familiar. It's as if the patterns keep repeating themselves, but I cannot find seams in between. It feels like the same patterns have been repeated, the seams have been removed to just give an illusion of an expanse...

I find myself racing past the tree. Looking from beneath, I find every branch a house of branches, expanding so that those branches might expand, so that more branches might grow, so that they might grow, expand, and house more branches...

The thirst is eroding me from inside. The glimmer from the water seems to grow brighter, yet the water itself is out of my sight. I run towards it, as the soil gives way to vegetation. The plants here are varied, some short, some stubby, some creeping, some firm but never a group of them together. They just keep popping up, newer kinds, never repeating themselves...

I can almost see the edge of the water. But as I run towards it, a familiar force makes its presence felt to me. This time, however, it's a thousand times more sinister. Fear has gripped and possessed me, just like the thirst did, and I turn around and fly with my legs.

Yes, flying I am, as I never knew I could run so fast. The roaring wall, however, feels to me always approaching nearer. I run through the vegetaion, all just a green blur now. The tree is just a standing stick in my way, and as the land comes back, it's just a streak of shades of brown. And then I notice: a speck in the distance, a human figure, maybe another man? I want to warn him, but I just fly past him, fear driving me on.

And as I run, I find something pulling me ahead, a strength extremely powerful. I feel myself being stretched into its magnetic pull, dragged into a whirlpool of mass. My sight is dimming, my other senses are ebbing away. I stop feeling myself...

My body is numb, it's being pulled in every direction. Everywhere I feel, it's as if there is a huge weight upon me. I open my eyes, and find myself lying on cracked up land. I feel new, as if alive for the first time, I cannot remember anything. Yet, I know I have lived before. There's just this emptiness inside.

I knew it

2008-08-20T22:45:00.005+05:30

So me and Soham were discussing ex falso quodlibet some days ago, and he came up with a brilliant counter argument to this. Let me explain it to all of you:

The principle says that if there exists a statement A ("Karan Johar is gay.") that is both True and False at the same time, then any other statement B ("You are gay.") can be proved to be True.

The proof:

We know that A is True.

Thus we know that (A OR B) is True.

But A is False.

And (A OR B) is True.

Thus, B must be True.

Hence you are gay.

But wait... that was the principle. Here's Soham's argument:

We know that A is False.

Thus we know that (A AND B) is False.

But A is True.

Since (A AND B) is False,

B must be False.

So, there you go. You aren't gay.

Did I hear disappointment?

Dear Diary

2008-08-19T19:02:00.006+05:30

"Dear Diary,

Brett came to play today. He brought along Chris with him. I hate Chris. He speaks in such a harsh way, he's mean, and he always opposes what I say. I dunno how Brett made friends with him.

Brett didn't want to play with me. He played whatever Chris wanted to play. When I tried to be friendly and join in, Chris started playing with something else, and Brett followed him. He didn't even look at me. I dunno why he's behaving this way. He'd always be happy when he came here. We would play together for hours. I felt like hitting him and asking why he was avoiding me. But I didn't want to hurt him. He is the only true friend I have.

It was very hurtful. I wanted to cry, but I didn't do it in front of him. They played for some time and went away. Brett didn't even say bye when he left. I wanted to tell Mum. But even she does not want to talk to me these days. She cries a lot after Dad comes back and they fight. They don't let me hear and lock me in my room.

You have always been there for me, dear diary. Whenever I feel alone, I know I have you. I can shed the deepest of tears when I hug you. I know you will support me even when nobody else wants to listen to what I want to say. You always listen.

I know you want me to be happy. You hate it when I shed my burden on you. But you cannot imagine how helpless I feel. It's as if I am alive for no reason. Nobody cares for what I have to say, no one cares if I'm sad or happy. I feel very lonely, dear diary, and you are my only support.

I love my Mum. I know that she doesn't want to talk to me right now, but she will talk to me and make me feel happy. I know that she will always be there for me. I know I can face anything, anyone, just because my Mum loves me too."

Tears rolled down Mrs. Linderton's cheeks as she passed the tear-stained page to her husband. She wept bitterly, but didn't make any sound. She didn't want to wake her daughter up.

"Please, Jack, I don't want to do this."

"We have to, Mandy. You know what happened at the factory. The government does not want to take any more chances."

"But... she's just a child!"

"It doesn't matter. After the workers armed themselves and rebelled against the government at the factory, people feel that no kind of robot is to be trusted any more. We have to shut her down."

The Maple Tree

2008-08-10T22:46:00.000+05:30

In the midst stood the Maple tree: tall, dark, expansive, handsome; stretching its arms majestically towards the sky. A monarch, robed by the countenances its leaves would conjure, the Maple tree fascinated the caterpillar.

The caterpillar found itself among a field of grass. The tall leaves towered above, sparkling with sprinkles of water on their gleaming surface. The sky peered through them, ever blue, the sun adorning it with its warmth. Little insects hopped through, as crickets rubbed their legs together and tiny flies hovered along.

It crawled its way through coarse thickets, sparse shoots and moist swampy patches, emerging from the grass onto plain soil. The tree was now clearly visible in the distance.

As it made its way towards the tree, it encountered a strange construction. It had four legs that dug firmly into the ground, rising up to join and connect in pairs. Joining these two pairs were flat bars laid horizontally across. These rose at an angle to form a connected platform. The caterpillar did not stop and look.It carried on ahead.

It came across a container. Scattered on the ground near it were an assortment of objects, all different shapes, sizes and colours. Some of them were palatable, there were flies and bees hovering all over them. The others were different, made out of foreign substances.

The Maple loomed right ahead, imposing and magnificent. The wind blew off a few leaves, and the caterpillar looked on with wonder. It made for it, its journey would now be successful, the destination only a moment ahead--

Ritesh looked under his expensive jogging shoe, wiped it off, and went ahead.

...And This is Not One of Them Part IV

2008-07-26T14:13:00.000+05:30

Yes, it's generalisation-bashing time once again.

And this time, we have the following generalisation from Aesop:

"Familiarity Breeds Contempt"

Familiarity is all about having knowledge.

Contempt is when you feel disrespect or dislike.

What do you feel contempt for?
Something that opposes the values that you believe in. That does not work the way you expect or want it to work.

So does having knowledge about something necessarily make you feel contempt for it?

If you now dislike something that you liked before, it's because you have made yourself unfamiliar with it.

Look at the world around you as if you never learnt anything about it. Your familiarity will return to you.

Reminisces: First Year, Autumn Semester

2008-07-23T23:08:00.005+05:30

Today marked the beginning of my last academic year here at IITB. That, and the fact that I've been observing the freshies come over here reminds me of my own beginnings.

As I've mentioned before, I had been mentally preparing myself to live away from home the moment I knew of my admission here. You might call it the rebelliousness of teenage, I might call it the call of my instincts, but the fact is that I wanted to move out of home, away from my parents' protection, away from those creaky streets of Jabalpur. Being the kind of person I was, I didn't realise how tough that could be. Nevertheless, it's been fun.

I've never been the person to have big friend circles. I just couldn't gel in with everyone, thus choosing to be alone than trying to act happy doing what the group thought would be fun. It was only once in my life that I cared about it. And that was a bitter, bitter time. It just improved my ability to recognise and seek people who thought in the same way as I did. My friend circle would thus be limited to a couple of strong friends. Friends who recognised me in the same way as I recognised them.

As Mom and Dad bid adieu to me, reality struck me. I was, once again in my life, alone and devoid of companions. This time, I didn't have my parents to support and help me with it. However, I was where I wanted to be, and knowing that helped me remain aloof from all of it. As I began observing my fellow batchmates, my senses of recognition began their job. I could figure out the facades they put on. It was automatic; I trusted those interpretations, and still do. My sense of recognition, however, was on a roll: I found it everywhere. The same sense of rebelliousness, energy, dedication. I'm not saying there weren't the regular elements of deceit, wiliness, groupism, malice, and insecurity, but compared to what I found elsewhere, this place was bliss!

As our seniors poured in, so began the series of "informal chat sessions" with them in our mess. I remember being a part of a couple of them. The first one involving a few of us cooking up a story one by one, and the second one involving a very serious discussion on Homosexuality:

Senior: Do you know that most of us IITians have resorted to being gay due to the lack of girls in the campus?

Me: ...

Senior: What, you don't believe me? Tell me, what do you think is being gay?

Me: It's when a guy tries to unnaturaly fill up holes in another guy.
(Yeah yeah, I know that is a very discriminatory answer)

Well, the conversation moved on, and I was asked the name of my wing.

You see, the hostel was divided into Wings, a collection of 24 rooms, which was separated into two "anti-wings" due to the corridor. I was alotted Room no. 32, (belonging to Wing no. 2) which I shared with Ravi. It seems that our fore-fathers had given a unique name to each of these wings.

I was supposed to find out the name of my wing, which turned out to be:
*drumroll*
Libidos.

It still eludes me why would someone want to name a wing Libidos. I soon grew bored of it, and so did many of my wingmates. Oh, I haven't introduce them, have I?

Here we go, then.
Room no. 24:

Asif Iqbal

A friendly, cool-headed guy, Asif was one of the active members of our wing. He will always greet you with a certain friendly warmth. He was the one responsible for the title given to me: "Fart-shah". I liked to call him "As-if". Would be usually involved in the craziness of the wing, including ridiculing and naming others.

Vamshi Krishna

Not knowing Hindi properly, Vamshi would have trouble communicating with us, and thus tended to remain with his group of friends who knew Telugu. A genial person, Vamshi would be the butt of jokes directed to him based on his ignorance of Hindi.

Room n0. 25:

Dushyant Meena

Usually known as "DM", he was one of the more mischievous members of the wing. He had the privilege of having a room entirely to his own, as his roommate never joined IITB for reasons unknown. Always the man with the jokes, DM would enjoy Ravi's quips. He would usually be seen with Asif and Neelmani. DM was the second person in the wing to own a computer.

Room no. 26:

Abhijit Bhole

Bhole is one hardworking guy. His passion for Electronics and Computer Science is bright and inspiring. He would tend to stay away from the wing, and keep with his friends.

Sudhir Singh Rana

Rana would prefer staying in his room, with his books. Not the person to enjoy company.

Room no. 27:

Ajay Garg

A good guy with a penchant for bad jokes. It was rumoured that Ajay "Laudu" Garg had lost his penis during one of his valiant conquests, and now sports a metal one instead. The rumors were soon accepted by Ajay, causing shock all over the wing. He even christened his metal member as his "Raampuri". Openly gay along with Jawani.

Dushyant Rajput

Dushyant "DR" Rajput. This guy is cool, calm and composed. To me, he had a strange outlook towards things. Nevertheless, he always has a friendly demeanour. One of the earliest persons to be associated with one of the girls on campus. It was his fateful meeting with a certain "Gauri" that made hi famous in our wing for some time.

Room no. 28:

Chaitnaya Amdekar

Ahh, Chaitanya "Chaitu" Amdekar. Also known as "Master Madarchod" ("Mama" in short). One of the brightest of fellows. He would usually be the source of Assignments that the wing would have to submit. He would of special help to us in understanding the mysteries of chemistry and special relativity. Refrained from swearing initially, but is now one bigtime badmouther. Also, another specialist in Farting.

Neelmani Singh

Neelmani had to go back to home pretty early as he caught Jaundice. I had met him only a few times before he returned, and hence hardly knew him. But as it turned out, he was another master in the art of Farting. Apparently extremely foul-mouthed, Neelmani is a gentle creature. In fact, he is so gentle and defenseless that he would be the victim of Jawani's and Ajay's homosexual frustrations. His smooth looks didn't help much. He has a passion for coding and open source.

Room no. 29:

Vishal Badwal

Ahh Vishal Badwal. His surname, along with the fact that his hair had started graying prompted us to name his as "Buddha". A nice guy and an extreme Metalhead. Absolutely Loves Steve Vai. And Arch Enemy. And Opeth. And Cannibal Corpse. Would usually go into extreme drunken states after drinking away to glory. Would stay away from academics.

Satadru Biswas

Satadru Biswas, aka "Sutta". As you can easily see, he was the guy with the pumping iron. A cool-headed guy, with a liking for cigarettes and wine, Satadru wouldn't be involved with the general mindlessness of the wing.

Room no. 30:

Pratik Jawanpuria

Veeranna

Also known as "Veeru", Veeranna is a strange guy in many ways. But you'll never feel uncomfortable in his presence. Even though he has difficulty speaking Hindi fluently, he is extremely friendly and fun to be with. His curly hair was the source of fascination for many people.

Room no. 31:

Parasvil Patel

Also called "Madan" because of his particular way of pronouncing "Madarchod" as "Madanchod". He was the "baapu" of the wing, with his specialisation in irking people and giving them fundaes and advice. He would usually try to take control of situations and people. But at the same time, enjoy the wing's madness as much as possible.

Kaushal

Room no. 32:

Alok Meshram

Ahh, me.

Ravi Kumar

My beloved ex-roommate Ravi.

Room no. 33:

Sumit Singh Parihar

SSP is a cool guy. Extremely stable, with a strange sense of humour, and an interest for the grotesque. One of my best friends here at IITB.

Abde Ali Kagalwalla

Abde is a bright and hardworking person. A great person to be with, you would never feel any negativity emanating from him. He will always treat you with a friendly warmth.

Room no. 34:

Archith John Bency and Viraj Athavale

Archith is popularly known as "Saabu" for his extremely short anger. The supreme master of Farting. There's even an orkut community dedicated to him. Archith is a very hardworking, bright and brilliant person. Extremely friendly and helpful at all times. His cheery demeanour always enlivens things up.

Viraj is a very gentle, calm creature. Brilliant and hardworking and helpful at the same time. His caring and composed attitude makes him one of the most liked people around.

Tall, bright and each having a bald spot, they were ideal roommates for each other.

Room no. 35:

Priyesh Tiwari

Priyesh. One of my good friends here.

Manu Sharma

Manu Sharma, also known as "Mug-nu" or "Majnu". Hardworking with odd sleep cycles, Manu is a bright guy. Tends to keep to himself and his friends. A good football player. At one time tried to involve himself in the common act of ridiculing others. Has now left it. Was involved in a "chatting-chakkar" with a girl during the second semester.

Room no. 36:

Prateek Purwar

Short and curt, PP is the guy with a very dramatic face and manner. Enjoys football and sports as much as ridiculing people and pawning others through arguments. A pretty goal oriented person.

Shishupal Singh

Shishupal. One of Ravi 's best friends. A good friend to me too. Would usually stay away from the wing and be involved with his friends initially.

Room no. 37:

Apoorv Tiwari

Apoorv is a cool guy. Very goal oriented. A good manager of time. Very interested in Literature, Drama, World Music and Wine. He would usually be found in his room reading a book or strumming his guitar. Has a curt way of speaking, but pretty friendly in nature.

Ashish Maurya

Maurya is one of the greatest Fartists around, except Saabu of course. A pretty hardworking person. Maurya seems inclined towards having his say in everything. Enjoys craziness and getting high on alcohol.

Well, that's the gang. But wait. There is more. We had a couple of illegitimate members too:

Soham Chakraborty

Originally from the neighbouring hostel, Soham preferred enjoying his time in our wing, especially with Apoorv in room no. 37. A very balanced and steady guy with a great voice and musical ability. Also has a good understanding power that enables him to keep a good CPI. He has been one of my best companions.

Anubhav Kabra

A resident of the neighbouring wing, Zombies, Kabra loved spending his time in our wing. He and Ravi are the best of pals. He used to be referred to as "Pamela" for reasons unknown to me. A very brilliant and charming person, Anubhav's enthused voice and demeanour spreads the cheer.

With this assortment of nuts, raisins and vegetables I spent my first year. We soon grew bored of calling our wing "Libidos" and hence came up with the idea of "Libidogarh". Libidogarh would be our gaaon and we were the gaaonwaale. We were assigned different roles in the gaaon:

DM: "Gaaon Ka Chokra"
DR: "Gaaon Ka Pandit"
Vishal: "Gaaon Ka Buddha"
Satadru: "Gaaon Ka Don"
Priyesh: "Gaaon Ka Baccha"
Me: "Gaaon Ka Postman"
Ajay Garg: "Gaoon Ka Halwai"

We were very vicious and primitive, resorting to neanderthal behaviour (bumps sessions) to any outsider that would dare to step inside our pyaara gaon. We were known to be relentless and cruel in our activities. Important announcements would be declared by a call of "Gaaonwaalon!", hearing which we would assemble. Our favourite game was, of course, wing cricket. The bonding and solidarity of Libidogarh was known all across the hostel.

The semester had a very spectacular beginning, with heavy rains all over Mumbai, flooding streets and the low lying areas. The rains pilfered and raided all of Mumbai. It began on the historic day of 26th of July a day many Mumbaikars will remember for its monstrous rains. The flooding hit IIT too, even though it is situated at a relatively higher altitude. The umbrella became my faithful saviour, and I learnt to be greedy of its clutch. There are a lot of memories attached to those rains: the moist and mud-filled corridors wih earthworms and cow-dung, the strange damp smell of everything, the freshness of the campus, the cold atmosphere. I fell sick to Bronchitis pretty soon, and had to miss a week of lectures (including a quiz) so that I could recover.

One of the primary features of my initial days here were the "Orientations". Introductions to the various activities, clubs, eveything. They would be fun, with all us freshies collecting and joining up to go, cheering our hostel and jeering others on the way. The orientations themselves were endlessly fascinating to me, who didn't go out too much. They painted a rosy picture of life at IITB for me.

The campus itself was a huge mystery to be solved. It is easy to get lost in the labyrinthine mess of roads, buildings and jungles that is IITB. Exploring the campus was fun, and so was getting acquainted with the names of various places ("Hill Side", "Y Point", "Lakeside", "H13"). The academic area itself presented quite a lot of challenges in getting familiar with. I would usually land up in remote areas and unfamiliar corridors. One particular trip was from H13 to H4 along the border of Sanjay Gandhi National Park. Me and my friend were scolded by the security people after we emerged from that path.

But most of my time would be spent in the confines of my room, stuck with books and getting used to the way things happened at IITB, at a blindingly fast pace. I would find solace in reading novels, listening to the MP3 player my parents had gifted me with, and cleaning my room. I was used to listening to Linkin Park, Gorillaz, and all that during those days. I had a collection of songs on my MP3 player that I was fond of. But soon I grew bored of it, and radio came as my saviour.

Mumbai had a very diverse and wide Radio scene at that time, with channels like Go 92.5 FM, Red 93.5 FM, Radio City 91 FM, Radio Mirchi 98.3 FM. Go 92.5 FM was clearly my favourite, with a very friendly and youthful way of presentation. I loved the "College Radio" hosted by RJ Nadir, followed by "Horn OK Please" by Malini, who had a fluent tongue and charming voice. Some of the artists that I got acquainted with thanks to Go 92.5 FM are: James Blunt, Black Eyed Peas, Flipsyde, Pink Floyd and Pussy Cat Dolls. Sadly, this unique and brilliant channel didn't last for long, But it was my source of entertainment for the whole of my first year.

Another activity that I would usually indulge in to pass time was cleaning up my room. I would religiously clean my room with a broom almost every 3 days, though soon this time period extended to upto a fortnight. Reading novels and books was another pleasurable activity. It is during this time that I finished the mammoth Epic, "Lord of The Rings" by JRR Tolkien. I hadn't watched the movies, but somehow got hold of the book. It was only after completing the book that I watched the movies (through a series of nightouts at the OSL Lab), extended editions. One of the best experiences of my life.

Though I had the enthusiasm, I didn't participate in much of the college activities and competitions, except the Freshie Weekend (where I participated in Pot-painting along with a friend) and a Techfest competition that involved building a cantilever bridge from ice-cream sticks (had a complete nightout for that one). But I did involve myself as a spectator in most of the things that happened here.

And now, the most important part of life here at IITB: Academics. The following is a description of courses that I went through my first semester here:

1. CS 101

Prof. Sharat Chandran (Though that's not exactly how he looked. Add an unkempt beard.)

This course dealt with C++. And as C++ programming was one of my favourite activites before IIT, this course was my favourite. I would sail through the assignments (which we would do late at night at the Old Software Lab (OSL), from 9:00 PM to 11:00 PM). Prof. Sharat Chandran had a wacky way of teaching and his "innovative" methods irritated people more than helped them. The course feedback interface was reviewed by him almost every week, and with anonymous feedbacks, it was surely fun to see.

The course project at the end was a great experience leading me to learn APIs and graphics, something which I'm very interested in currently.

2. MA 103

Prof. R. R. Joshi

One of the tougher courses of the semester. Prof Joshi's way of teaching was very focused and planned, which was a nice ride. Her unique style of speaking, acting and teaching was a source of humour for us all. Everytime she completed a theorem or a problem, she would say, "Now we're Through!" which sounded like, "Now we're Thoo!" and students would instinctively react as if someone was spitting on them. However, she was a good teacher, and had an inspiring aura around her.

3. HS 101

Prof A. Ramanathan
(Believe me, he looks much more scarier from up close)

This was the Economics course, where we learnt a lot about how banks worked and money and markets and allthat. Taught by the genial and cool Prof. Ramanathan. Most students preferred sleeping during his lecture. He would ignore them. He spoke with a distinct southern accent which ("income" as "yingum", "money" as "munny", "Economics" as "Egonumics"). Sitting close to him would be a horrifying experience due to the looks he gave you, and the hand expressions he used. It felt as if he was holding something very heavy with both his hands and trying to show it to everyone.

The latter half of the course was taught by some other professor whose name I forget. He was surely a strict and boring guy. We missed Prof. Ramanathan.

4. PH 101

This was the nightmare course for me. Dealt with Mechanics (something which I disliked, especially rotational mechanics) and Relativity (!). Taught by the Boring Prof. Senthilkumar. I had a tough time studying this.

5. CH 101

Prof. B.L. Tembe

Another difficult course that included Quantum Mechanics, Thermodynamics and Electrodynamics. However, the lectures were fun due to the jolly teaching of Prof. Tembe. He had a nice way of explaining things. Once poked Ravi (who was deep asleep) during class with his stick, and termed him as an "excellent sleeper", which he is.

6. ME 111

This was the workshop course that all students at IITB have to undergo. It included teaching us Sand Moulding, Tin-Smithy, Fitting, Pattern Making. I had a tough time filing metal slabs and wood pieces and filling up sand for moulding.

7. CH 113

The Chemistry Lab. Was mostly fun. Had to wear Lab Coats and shoes to labs.

8. PH 113

The Physics Lab. Unnecessarily excruciating and painful. Had to write huge journals, deal with outdated equipment and face antique staff.

The quizzes, midsemester and endsemester examinations were painful experiences, as I strived to score. Diwali vacations were spent at home, and towards the end of the semester, I was a happy person with good grades. But I didn't like what I had to study, and the way I had to study, in fast forward mode, which was just an introduction to the way of life here.

Nevertheless, my first semester here at IITB was a whirl of an experience. I had never experienced life this way before. Mumbai and IITB were places that introduced me to the world outside and its colours: Music, The Arts, Shopping, Restaraunts and Responsibility.

Trendy?

2008-07-22T13:52:00.000+05:30

Internship at L&T is done with, and IITB is all set to begin with my final year.

My day at L&T would invariably begin with me logging on to iGoogle on the computer assigned to me. As I did, I would observe this little gadget in the corner: Google Hot Trends. Onefineday I accidentally logged on to the Indian version of iGoogle, and noticed something I thought I should share.

Let me recapitulate the month of June for you over here, with the topmost entries for each day from both the sites:

Google Hot Trends for USA:

Tom Perkins, Bo Diddley, Scion Hako, Fisher Space Pen, Rob Reiner, Jesse Palmer, Jim Mckay, Top Secret Recipes, Mobileme, Buckhead Library, Stacy Dash, Susie Essman, Tim Russert, Tim Russert, John Atkinson, US Open Sudden Death, Cyd Charisse, Kendal Sheppard, Freedom of religion, First day of summer, Scott Kalitta crash video, Geroge Carlin, Graham Bunn, Pimp C, Giant killer snakes, Laura Logan, Contagion, Janis Ian, johntv.com, Samuel Clemens

Google Hot Trends for India:

ETV2, Presidency College Kolkata, AIEEE results, First hot air balloon (followed very closely by AIEEE results), Airtel (followed closely by TANCET results), Blue film, mahresult.nic.in, Sastra, MP board 10th result, Ind vs Pak, Orissa JEE results, www.wbjeeb.in, DET results 2008, www.dmer.org (the site where Mahrashtra CET results appear), AMUPMDC, www.oritech.org.in, shimoga.net, shimoga.net, www.manoramaonline.com/religion, tehadmissions.gov.in, Haj committee, Sun direct, www.hscap.kerala.gov.in, cetdelhi.nic.in, India vs Hong Kong, SSC results, Earthquake in Chennai, Earthquake in Chennai, DOP Rajasthan, icai.org

Do these trends speak for themselves?
What do you say?

Sweet Memories

2008-07-14T18:07:00.000+05:30

Wandering through Ebony Woods,
A sweet visage enters my mind.
Reminds me of happier moods
And delectation, but her name I cannot recall.

I trudge ahead, in memories luscious,
While I ponder upon this mystery.
Found her name, made my heart soar,
It's Black Forest Pastry.

P.S. This one dedicated to Shatabdi! :)
P.P.S. She doesn't like Chocolate.

Thank You, Mr. Chaurasiya!

2008-07-03T23:39:00.000+05:30

The first of July, 2008 marked the 70th birthday of Pt. Hariprasad Chaurasiya, A virtuoso bansuri player, from India.

And although I've heard only few select songs from him, I feel compelled to celebrate, along with the rest of India, this musician's birthday,

Not because I've suddenly found an interest in Indian Music.
Not because I should support Hindustani Classical Music as I'm an Indian.
Not because I want the youth to stop listening to "Western influences" and support Indian artists.
Not because I want to spread the word and popularise his music.

But because when I heard his music, I felt the wind blowing within myself, and found myself flowing along with it.
Because his composition could make me witness a rainstorm while remaining in the shelter of my room.
Because his music could transport me to the banks of a serene river, and breathe under nature's spell.
Because his flute could evoke pictures of tranquility, of peace, in my mind.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Chaurasiya, keep doing what you Love to do.

The End?

2008-07-02T14:24:00.000+05:30

Patrick McEnroy found himself standing in front of William Birchall's door, unsure of his purpose of visit. It was a dark, dank evening in the latter half of April, 1755, and mist was punctual in laying her cold arms upon the moors that surrounded the village of Birkle in Lancashire, England during that time of the year. Yet, Patrick couldn't stop himself from visiting Birchall's solitary abode, which stood its ground in the midst of the moor.

It was probably the rumors. Birchall was the local physician, much respected for his accurate diagnosis. People said that he would exhume corpses and skeletons, but nobody ever caught him at it. These days, he appeared less amongst the streets of the village, and Patrick knew that he was upto something. He knocked on the door. Patrick took notice of Birchall's stern visage as he opened the door for him.

"Patrick. Come inside, come inside, my dear fellow. What brings you here this eve?"

"Nothing, I was just passing by, thought I'd give you a visit."

"Have a seat. I'll bring along some tea," said Birchall, with a characteristic imperious look in his eyes. Patrick wondered if that was what dragged him here.

Birchall appeared shortly with his tea things, and sat himself down. He prepared the tea and offered it to Patrick,

"So, what are you up to these days, Birchall?"

"I have devoted myself to the study of human ailment, and I continue to serve people."

"I know that. But what about what you keep doing here, in this secluded space? It seems you want to hide something."

"I hide nothing, Patrick, you might want to look around, if you want to."

"You have hidden it well, Birchall, and let me tell you, you are a faithless man."

Birchall smiled, it irritated Patrick even further.

"Faith? What do you call as faith, dear Patrick? Faith is merely a label, used by many as an excuse, and by others to hide the truth. It is a device to deceive, to keep you under a state of false satisfaction. They sit there, doing nothing, and say they have 'faith'. Soon they bear the fruits of their own ignorance, and then it is time to blame somebody. It is then much more easier to blame those who did not profess to have 'faith', because they lie in minority."

"Faith," Birchall continued, "has just become what it was meant not be. When I watch the butterfly flutter its wings, when I look at the open skies, when I watch trees blossom with flowers, when I look at myself, I feel my faith. Nature, Patrick, in all of its entirity, is my faith. Nature is complex, and yet its beautiful, because it works, doesn't it? That is my faith. That is what I work for. I have faith in nature, in its magnificence. I don't need an imaginary creature called God."

"You might be arrogant now, Birchall, but it will be my turn to sneer, when, one day, as you approach your last breath, you will believe, and seek refuge."

Birchall laughed, "Tell me, Patrick, have you ever Orgasmed?"

"William! --"

"Drop the pretense, Patrick. I asked you a simple question."

"Yes, I have, but what has that --"

"Then you must have felt that it alleviates you. It makes you soar within yourself, makes you forget everything else. It's a release that you feel, a release that your body presents to you as a token of its appreciation. Because you have relieved it of its tension. Pretty soon, your body returns back to its state of tension. Why tension? because copulating and producing more of your kind is a duty you have towards your own self, towards nature."

"That makes some sense..."

"Death is similar, Patrick. It will alleviate you of your existence, which is nothing but tension, a tension to survive, to eat, to sleep, to think, to wonder, to create, to work, to remain fit, to copulate. It will be a most wonderful feeling. I do not fear it. It will be my salvation. Until that moment, I will fulfill my duties towards myself, towards nature. I will ensure my contention, so that, when my time arrives, I have no regrets, and I might enjoy it as much as possible."

Reminisces: First Year, Autumn Semester: Counseling Day

2008-06-25T09:31:00.000+05:30

The rains are back yet once again here in Mumbai, and accompanying the pitter-patter of raindrops are memories, of a wonderful time called my first semester at IITB. The Autumn of 2005.

It all began with a very rainy day, the 20th of June. The Counseling Day. "Counseling" was just a pretense; the day was meant to decide the fate of the 5000 odd students who had cleared JEE. It was on that day that students would opt for the various engineering streams they would like to pursue at the various IITs.

I arrived with my parents on the morning of the 19th, and spent a quite little day at the Railways Guest House in CST. Armed with all the documents that meant to summarize my life on paper, along with all the attested copies and all the filled-up forms that requested me to indulge in details such as if I'd had Hernia or not, I looked forward towards visiting IITB.

I was elated, the dream of my adolescent years was fulfilled, and where else? Mumbai! The most "happening" of cities in India.

I remember the Counseling Day pretty well: Dad had arranged for a vehicle that would transport us from the guest house to IIT. The skies, though, were in a mood of their own, and unleashed their store upon the streets of Mumbai, hinting towards things to come. Nevertheless, we reached IIT in time.

We assembled at the Convocation Hall, amidst a crowd of about 1000. We were greeted by a bespectacled professor who declared, "It rains cats and dogs in Mumbai," and provided information about the procedure for counseling. The rest of the day was spent in a flurry of document submission, form-filling, and not-so-random wandering: I had to report to LT (or PC Saxena Auditorium) for form submission, following which I was required to submit Fees in the form of a demand draft at the Canara Bank "counter". I then proceeded towards the actual Counseling, where a few of IIT's professors provided me with some advice for choosing my stream. Finally, the time had come for filling up the hallowed Option Form, which I did, with utmost care, and proceeded to submit. My job here was done.

To say that IITB's campus enthralled me would be not saying much; I was mesmerised. The forest housed the habitation, not the other way round. Everything felt to be in the right place: The trees, the buildings, the Hostels, the Gymkhana grounds, the Lake beside the Guest House. I remember looking at Hostel 11 (the female postgraduate Hostel) with awe, little did I realise what IITB really had in store for me.

As Counselling Day came to an end, we headed back towards the Guest House, a little wet, a little tired. Nevertheless, IITB had already left its mark upon me. Since I had chosen Electrical Engineering at IITB as my first choice (which I knew I would be alloted), I was already envisioning my life at IITB: a wonderful time in a wonderful place. Three years down the line, I now know how wrong and right I was at the same time. It definitely has been a wonderful time at a wonderful place, but in a completely different way.

The Android

2008-06-17T00:24:00.000+05:30

Steve marched into Derrick's room.

Noticing the excitement in Steve's gait, Derrick asked,

"What's the matter, Steve?"

"You know the new android I've been working on, Derrick?"

"The MOR-YU11?"

"I think I've created the first true android!"

"How do you say so?"

"When I powered it on today, it looked around and kept staring at what the other prototypes were doing."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, one of the prototypes started cleaning itself, and suddenly the YU11 exclaims, 'Will you stop doing that? That's so disgusting!' "

A Couple of Angry Letters

2008-06-01T13:31:00.000+05:30

A couple of events in the past 24 hours have induced me to write this:

1) Receiving a phone call from a newly selected candidate in JEE. The JEE results were declared on 29th of May, and early next morning, I was called by this arbitrary acquaintance in Nagpur requesting me to give "advice" to his son who got selected, but had a poor rank. The question asked to me was: "Which branch will I be able to join through this rank?". Is that it? Is getting into IIT just about getting into any branch? Doesn't individual interest have any role to play? Is it all just about landing a good paying job?

2) The suicide committed by a final year student at IITK on 31st of May.

So here are a couple of open, honest letters.

To every parent in India,

"I love my children. They are my life."
How many times have you repeated this cliched dialog? How many people have you said this to? Please look inside and ask yourself, how many times did you actually mean it?

Oh wait. Of course you love your child. You provide him/her with everything he/she wants, you have spent loads of money on his/her education, you care for him/her. How dare I ask you if you love your child or not? Who am I to judge your love for your child?

But do tell me this: Why is it that everywhere I look, I see this uncertainty, this mistrust in the youth? Why is it that I see fear in their minds, an extreme lack of belief in their own selves? Why are your children afraid of making decisions for themselves? Why are they afraid to pursue what they love? Why are they afraid of failure so much?

Maybe the following might help you answer those questions: Do you love your child enough to watch him/her be on their own? To be able to watch them get hurt? Do you trust your child enough that he/she learns to learn from their mistakes? Have you ever had enough confidence in your child so that he/she learns to have enough confidence in themselves?

Surely you're doing your best to let your child have the best. But you forget to teach them one of the most important abilities in life: Survival.

Is it partially because you are afraid and unsure of yourself? Is the "noble motive" behind your actions a desire to prevent your child from experiencing pain and failure that you had to face at some time in your life? Do you advise your child to pursue an MBA because your neighbour's brilliant kid just got into IIMA or that distant relative told you that that is the only field that has "scope" left in the future? Do you force your child to pursue an MBBS even though you know of the excellent talent he/she possesses in art/sports? Why?

Do you ever show off your child to a guest in your house, as if he/she were an object, a prized possession that you own? Did you ever try to find out the real motive behind something that your child achieves? Do you just want your child to score in that examination so that you can show off at work? Have you ever tried to see what your child really enjoys doing?

Please answer my questions, parents. I'm tired of all this.

When will you really start loving your child?

Thanking you,

Alok Meshram

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To every child/student in India,

Being rebellious is part of being a human being. It comes automatically to us. And one of education's primary motive is to direct that rebellion towards a constructive direction. But why is it that I see an abysmal absence of rebellion in you, my friends? All that I can see is a fake act that you put forth in the name of rebellion. You just rebel against everything that you aren't comfortable with.

Why is it that you cannot say no when your friend circle pushes you to smoke that cigarette you don't want to smoke? Why is it that you agree to what everyone else agrees to without even applying a little thought to it? Why is it that you accept all that drivel they teach you at school in the name of education? You call yourself rebels?

Why are you so afraid of yourself? Why don't you trust yourself? Why are you afraid of your parents, society, "friends"? Why don't you try and follow what you love for a change? Why is it that you believe in "Life is the boss"? Why don't you ever try being yourself rather than what people want you to be?

Probably the blame cannot be laid wholly upon you. But as a student, as a human being, you have the ability to learn. Why don't you trust this ability?

It is time we did.

Thanking you,
Alok Meshram

When There is No Light

2008-05-25T21:12:00.000+05:30

As consciousness crawled its spiteful way back into her, Anvisha Desai looked for sight. She found only painful emptiness. Emptiness that made her aware of the piercing ringing in her ears. It invaded her. She struggled, trying to discern a voice, a sound, something, anything. Waves of panic gripped her as she realised the futility in her search. The blackness, the silence, would stay with her forever.

She wanted to flee, to jump, to move, but found herself too weak. Pain suffused her body. Her vain efforts to struggle served only to emphasize her discomfort. She heard herself screaming with the little effort left in her, a slave to the intense fear that raced through her veins. It made its way, making her aware of every exhausted muscle in her body, calling for her attention, shrieking away its grief.

"Where am I? Ritesh? Antara! Please! Somebody!"

A glimpse, a word, a touch. She wanted her husband and her child. She found comfort in their sweet faces. They rescued her from this misery.

They walked ahead of her, she smiled as she stood watching them from across the street. Ritesh with his ever playful smile. Antara was her usual chatty self, which only served to widen her father's smile. A blinding agony seized her; she screamed aloud.

"Why didn't you save us from them, Mumma?"

"How could you leaves us alone, Anvisha?"

"Where were you? Why did you let them hurt us?"

"No... No!" bellowed Anvisha between agonized sobs. Only the silence responded. All she could remember was a pair of strong hands lifting her off.

"Who are you? What did you do to my Antara? Where is Ritesh! Where have you taken them? What do you want from us?"

She struggled, her head dizzy from the screaming. A strange drowsiness shrouded her. Her blind eyes hurt her. She screamed again, "Please don't hurt my baby! Bring her back to me, what do you want from me?"

A pair of hands held her. She cried out louder, trying to struggle, as they strengthened their grip.

"Leave me alone, you fiends! Bastards! Bring my Antara back to me! What have you done with her? What did you do to Ritesh? Please, let us go. What wrong did we ever do to you?"

There was no response. The hands kept their grip. She felt a sharp pinch of a needle prick her in her arm. The drowsiness overpowered her as she fell into unconsciousness amidst her sobs.

"Thank God she's down!", said the owner of the arms, "I thought she was going to try to kick me or something."

"Poor soul, saw her husband and daughter die in the explosion at Johari Bazaar. She's lucky she was standing across, though she has lost her sight and her ears, and she doesn't seem to remember anything about the blast. She thinks we are holding up her family or something," replied Dr. Ghosh. "Now come on, we have more patients to attend to."

Latest in My Comic Addiction

2008-05-20T21:51:00.001+05:30

Something which made me laugh out loud after a long long time.

21 = 7*3

2008-05-18T16:59:00.000+05:30

"Baar baar din ye aaye,
Baar baar dil ye gaaye,
Tum jiyo hazaron saal,
Ye meri hai aarzoo.

Happy Birthday to you, Alok.
Happy Birthday to you, Alok.
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you."

Birthdays have always been occasions of importance in my family. My Parents have never failed to make it a very special day for me or my brother. Everyone would be invited, from distant relatives to workplace acquaintances, friends, even tutors and teachers when we were young. Mom would work hard and ensure that everybody enjoyed it to the hilt, especially us. Food, games, music, decoration, everything would be perfect. To execute a celebration surely requires restraint and a sense of responsibility, when you watch everyone else having fun, but have to work hard in order to make it happen. But my parents never complained, all that mattered to them was that we felt special.

Dad being in a transferable job, we have lived through various cities. Each one had its charm, a certain aura to it. With each city, the way my birthday would be celebrated would be different. Nagpur would always involve lots of relatives (being my Mum's hometown) and friends with plenty of games and celebration. In the second floor flat we used to live in. Music would be an integral part of the evening, with dancing and utter hooliganism involved. One of the important features would be the joke telling session.

Bhopal would usually involve the whole Railway colony, because that was the primary feature of our lives over there. The colony, situated in Habibganj, was a very active unit, expecially us children. My parents would arrange proper "Parties" here complete with caterers and professional video recording. Games and music remained an important feature here, though many relatives failed to show up, to the chagrin of my parents. But anyways, presents were exquisite. (Hehe)

Jabalpur would be generally a low-key affair. But wonderful and special all the same. The way my parents would arrange the events of the day never failed to disappoint me. Though I missed the music and games. Sometimes, Birthdays would mean a good old meal (Butter Chicken, Spring Roll, and Baked Vegetables) at Traffic Jam Food Junction in Sadar. Exquisite.

Well as far as my memory goes, the earliest birthdays I can remember were celebrated in Bhusawal. And they were the perfect parties for little Kindergarteners that we were at that time. Nursery Rhyme Music, Balloons, Party Hats, Confetti, Games, Crying Babies. Yup, perfect little parties. Birthday gifts then used to be littlesweetthingys like Plastic sport equipment, Bottles, Tiffins, Crayons or Sketchpens, Fake Musical Instruments, Plain Old Money-In-An-Envelope-With-Re. 1-Extra.

Anyways, one of my favourite parts of the party would be the jolly song recital time. A very talented Mr. Nikam would adorn the evening with his amicable voice, tabla and harmonium, with a knack for improvisations and crazy rhythms. "Baar Baar dil ye gaaye..." would be the highlight of the performance, and I for one, never forgot the tune. The pretty little home at Bhusawal we had would glow with happiness and joviality, everyone had a great time, even my old faithful pet, Tommy, who would be given a special birthday hat of his own.

Having your birthday during Summer Vacations reduces your chances of receiving Bumps sessions, and I've not had the experience yet. It also ensured that I could celebrate my birthdays with my parents, at home.

This year, however, the situation was different. I had L&T from the 12th , 3 days before my birthday. I assumed this to be the first birthday without parents. I was wrong. My mom decided to drop by in Mumbai along with my little brother. She stayed in the Railways Guest House at CST, and that meant a daily commute from Powai. But there is nothing like being with your parents, no matter how much trouble you have to go through for it.

A pleasant surprise awaited us in the Guest House at CST: Mr. Nikam, whom my mother instantly recognized.

My birthday this year was special in many ways. I received a very special call from a dear friend, the first one to call. The party was celebrated in a guest house room, with an ad-hoc cake and bouquet bought from nearby. I was teleported back in time to Bhusawal as Mr. Nikam sang with his ever pleasant voice. The food arrangement consisted of Cake, Salted Cashewnut, a Kit Kat, and some Chiwda. And was it as wonderful as ever. All thanks to my very wonderful Mom, who made this occasion as special for me as always. Love you Mom!

Reminisces : Before IIT

2008-05-17T12:50:00.000+05:30

Three years have gone by since I gave the JEE, and it has been a wonderful journey. A journey through thorns and jungles as well as through flowers and wonderful gardens. I established this blog more than an year ago to help me keep this experience alive, to serve as a reminder of the wonderful moments I've been through, the lessons I've learnt, lest I should forget and pursue a darker path.

But it soon transformed to something much more than that. It became a companion, a fellow seeker, an establishment of my own self, helping me discover myself. It has helped me learn to be what Life and Nature wants me to be. However, in all that self-probing, I've forgotten about my primary motive.

The Summer of 2005. Oh how can I forget that wonderful time? I was an angry, focused individual just out of the throes of a self-inflicted ordeal. I was rebellious with all that teen spirit, all that restraint. But I was also working hard and enjoying myself. After all, I had a lot to look forward to that summer: The wonderful CBSE Board Exams, the JEE, the AIEEE, the BITSAT, the PET, the DCE entrance examination. I remember visiting a lot of wonderful places where I gave these exams (Bhopal, Indore, Delhi). Each of them was a different experience, but had something common to them: the wonderful feeling of going through the exams and tackling them. I still miss that beautiful emotion, of executing what you worked hard for.

The results poured in, and the news of my selection for the IITs left my parents exuberant. This was the end of June, and Autumn was soon approaching. I still remember my childish dreams about the educational Utopia I thought IIT to be.(For general background information on the IIT "dream", check this post, and the posts mentioned in it.)

I made my decision: I chose IIT Bombay, home to Mood Indigo, the largest college festival in India, a time to enjoy, a time to do everything I longed to do ever since I forced myself to sit down for more than 6 hours a day in pursuit of a land where I thought I would find justice for my toil. There was only one thing wrong with what I did. I committed a serious crime: I compared myself. I was jealous, and I hadn't realised that working hard for what you love is the essence of life, not hanging around, wasting time. I didn't know about having fun for the sake of fun, forgetting everything else, whilst being ever ready to work hard. I just wanted to have what I missed. But the problem is that I wanted just that, no strings attached.

Not that I had completely recovered during this whole period. What I had gone through still did not leave me completely, and occasionally I would be troubled by its ugly presence. Especially when I had to visit hospitals for blood and fitness tests for the Application form required for the Entrance procedure for IITB.

The entrance procedure. That brings me to another Dilemma I had faced at that time. About the subject I would study. Me and My Dad were of different opinion. I still think I took the wrong decision when I followed my Dad's advice. Anyways, knowledge is never useless, especially if you can think about applying it to what you really love and want to do.

I enjoyed myself to the hilt,engaging myself in learning to play Table Tennis, Badminton (though I must say I never liked outdoor games except Basketball and to some extent, Football). Filling up forms, looking for documents, obtaining attested copies took up most part of my days. I was satisfied, I was unstable, looking forward to IITB too much.

Looking back at those days, I feel so nostalgic. IIT was worth all that effort. :)

Sigh

2008-05-16T23:25:00.000+05:30

Dear Blog,

This is the first post explicitly directed to and meant for you, not to and for myself.

Comfort is such an awkward notion. I need to have prominent discomfort in my life to be able to experience comfort in the proper sense. It's so strange. I have been through periods of extreme comfort, and then I yearn for discomfort. I dream about going through personal pain in order to move ahead. And yet, when I experience that pain (self inflicted or not), I am able to appreciate comfort and seek more of it.

The semester ended on the 30th of April, and my internship wasn't supposed to begin until the 12th of May, and yet I chose not to go home and relax. The only reason I can give : I felt it would be too uncomfortable to go through all that adaptation, only to come back here and face it all over again. But deep inside, I was in turmoil. I missed my home, I missed my parents. I hated it here. Yet, even upon repeated requests from my parents, I chose to stay here. Comfort. Change is the harbinger of progress, but I chose to remain constant and hence stagnant.

I was extremely happy about the news of my Mom's decision to arrive here for my birthday, I enjoyed and every moment spent with her. And even though I had to manage L&T and daily travel to CST (that's where Mom stayed), I felt blissful.

And today, after seeing off my Mummy, I feel like crying, I feel so terrible. But I cannot. I am uncomfortable with it. I've grown comfortable to believing myself strong enough not to cry. It's so furiously frustrating. And I feel ashamed of myself, my dear blog. Ashamed to acknowledge not my true feelings, to bury them deep under, to not stay true to myself.

Well, my faithful blog, thank you so much for listening to me. I write here only to myself, and though this post is meant for you, it is also meant for me. Thank you for helping me towards being a better person.

...And This is Not One of Them Part III

2008-05-04T11:11:00.000+05:30

For those of you new to this feature of my blog, check out this post and its sequel.

"An Optimist sees the glass half full, a Pessimist sees it as half empty"

A very common generalization. People often ridicule a point of view without understanding it properly, and this is just another example.

I'm an eternal Optimist. So I'd rather not speak about Pessimism here. But with regards to Optimism, this statement is grossly shallow.

An Optimist doesn't care if the glass is empty or full. If it contains something, well and good. We'll drink it, and enjoy it while it lasts.

A true Optimist is a person who upon observing the glass' presence, knows that he/she is capable of procuring another filled-up glass if they need it.

To Be Alive

2008-04-27T13:16:00.000+05:30

Quaint shadows I have lain,
Upon this nourishing Earth.
Enduring for eons this pain,
Mingled with joy and mirth,
I celebrate this cognizance.

I, who has stood rooted here,
Clutching this dirt-filled abyss.
Life, flowing with force sheer,
Within my wooden waist no less
Than in the adjoining spread.

Survived I have storms spiteful,
But vindictive I never will be.
For furiously firm and hopeful
I remain, and I thank life mighty
To deliver storms amidst springs.

Did you ever notice my elation,
The smile I wear through spring?
Wonder what’s this delectation,
This contentment I’m evincing?
Time that is when I preserve life.

You can rarely suffer agony
More torturous and aching,
Than watching Death’s litany
Devour your children unforgiving
And nature itself doing the rest.

The universe’s harsh randomness,
Is tyrannous and inescapable.
Nature’s stringency for fitness,
Is so strong, it is so palpable,
Yet you choose to remain so awfully blind.

Oh you human, you pinnacle of life,
You forget all about your instincts,
Worry about your society, and strife
Against your animal identity, distinct,
Gladly you reject your own life.

(This is my first attempt ever at writing a full-fledged poem.)

Skwaiyre

2008-04-18T18:34:00.000+05:30

You've seated yourself, and you're minding your own business ("R. looks so bad in pink, but man, just look at her boobs!"). There's the eternal chatter all around you: laughter, equations, Man. U., circuits, hostels, hot butts, mess workers, panthers, snakes... except to the front. The benches are empty over there.

And then she enters. The prattle muffles momentarily. She walks towards the front of the class, a few A4 sheets in hand, and flashes her teeth in a wide smile. You get sudden familiar visions (courtesy The Discovery Channel) of a Camel.

She begins blabbering something about Hamiltonians and Hermitians and Heisenburgs and your brain wishes to free itself from this bondage. But you remain aware of the moment when she turns to face the black board---phatt!

You're in the midst of a battlefield! Missiles made of chalk are flying all around, whizzing past your ears, some hitting their targets. You focus on locating chalk to be deposited in your arsenal. Your eyes keep track of your targets, never losing sight of their heads, as your arm launches the weapon. You revel in joy as it meets the target, followed by the cry of pain and the utterance of those phrases relating to your mother or your sister or your man parts.

You hear the background music playing on cell phones, some booming with tunes from Metallica (or Megadeth), some playing Himesh Reshammiya (a ploy to mentally torture opponents), some with endlessly chattering RJs and some playing "Shayad" by Call.

You look towards the sky and you find it being scourged by airplanes. Some crash in front of innocent spectators, some land right on spot, and some take off again. Gory descriptions of anatomy continues to fill the air. Some individuals find this an appropriate moment to desert the battlefield and head towards the comforts of home. You think about following suit--

You're back on your bench, the battlefield has disappeared, and she turns back. The black board is now filled up with nasty looking operators and equations to describe Harmonic oscillators, tunneling electrons, and uncertain atoms. She faces a herd of innocuous lambs with blank expressions in their eyes, and makes an attempt at explaining the Planck's constant or the Boltzmann law, interspersed with utterances of "Skwaiyre" (square). She quotes sentences word to word from a book, and you start wondering about why she is a professor at all.

Someone asks a question (you, along with everyone else, look at that person with flame filled eyes). Her sneer turns into a miserable expression as she launches a series of "Uh"s and "Umm"s. Someone soon takes the initiative and answers the question on behalf of her.

The hour comes to an end, and she finally wraps it up. You elevate from your seat, but do not move until you're just behind R., and fix your eyes on that butt.

Congratulations! you've just witnessed a class by Pragya Das, who took PH104, the course on Quantum Mechanics in my 2nd semester.

One of the worst professors I've encountered at IITB. Could hardly teach or answer, gave excruciatingly tough exams, and set the DAC (DISCO for you Five Point Someone fans) on a group of students on the grounds of "forgery of signatures". Poor souls had to perform 100 hours of community service (teaching 12th class students) all summer.

Nevertheless, I've never had more fun in a class. Ahh those days!

Popping From the Stack

2008-04-18T18:06:00.000+05:30

Moving forward in life requires you to learn. And unlearn.

We go through the dimension of time, and what we experience is pushed onto the stack. What we siphon from this passage of time depends on a lot of factors. Frequently we accept conclusions (personal or otherwise) without applying thought. Especially during those early days of our lives, when we haven't yet learnt to analyse things properly.

We learn to feel joyous when someone makes a mistake rather than concentrating on our own job. We learn to feel deprived and jealous upon someone's success. We learn to compare.

We learn to shift the onus of our shortcomings on others and the society. To keep complaining rather than working. To justify ourselves rather than questioning our beliefs.

We learn to accept fate and destiny. We learn that nothing is in our control, that God decides what is to be done. That we are mere puppets. We learn to give up soon. And justify the act.

We learn that a man must be strong and must be aggressive. He must keep his hair short. He must not cry. He should not focus on household duties. He should play with cars and jets rather than dolls. He should not wear skirts.

We learn that a woman must be emotional. She must take care of the house. She must not earn more than the husband. She must not chat with other men. She must remain a virgin before marriage. She should be concerned with make up and jewelry.

As time progresses, it becomes much more difficult to remove these because of the weight piled on them. But clean up we must, because they shape our thoughts. They prevent us from chasing the truth. From becoming what nature wants us to be.

Though clearing this clutter is an important task, one must be careful in not losing some of our gems.

We must never forget to be curious about everything around us, to question everything. To keep faith in reason and logic. We must never forget the spirit of innovation.

We must never forget to cater to our inner instincts. That's what we are here to do. And they are our best guides.

The brain. It's something that I'm endlessly fascinated about. There are aspects to this little lump of matter that can be bared only if excess of introspection is practiced. And that is something that I enjoy doing.

Let your brain and your instincts be your guides rather than your past.

Life's Carrier Wave

2008-04-07T17:59:00.001+05:30

The function of life with regards to happiness, according to me, is:

H(t) = e^x^(t) cos (ωt+ϕ) + d(t)

Let me explain the individual components that make up this function.

cos (ωt+ϕ)

This is primarily a frequency modulated sine wave, with ω being the modulated frequency. The ω depends on a lot of factors, the workload that you face, bodily functions (especially hormonal, including sex hormones), relationships with other people, personal entertainment (music, food, clothes, etc.), and last but not least, on the randomness of the universe. ω can be said to be a weighted sum of all these factors, and it is upto the person what weights he/she assigns to the factors. ω increases with increase in any of these factors.

ϕ is something that you inherit. Commonly known as your background, this depends on values, habits, and outlook that you get from your parents/surroundings. This factor is primarily a constant after you reach a certain age.

x(t)

x(t) is the argument to the exponential amplitude of the sine wave. I like to call it the "attachment" coefficient. Generally, this is representative of the meaning you attach to the sinusoid above. That is, it is the meaning you associate to the uncontrollable factors of life. It can range from positive values (lots of meaning attached, heavy oscillations) to negative values (little or no meaning attached, a less turbid function).

d(t)

d(t) is the D.C. shift. This depends on your outlook of life, your inner self-realisation. Your principles, your reasonings, the "inner peace" as many like to call it. It is also affected by the satisfaction due to one's own hard work. This one has positive values when the person finds their inner beauty, while it has negative values when someone falls into depression.

The following is the function I want my life to be:
H(t)=e^(-0.1t)cos (cos(t)*t+ ϕ) + 0.5x^0.5

The ω term might not necessarily be cos(t). It was used just as an example.

The plot:

An Expression on Expression

2008-04-04T23:19:00.000+05:30

The species homo sapiens can be said to have evolved around 200,000 years ago. It soon developed as one of the most powerful and fittest species on planet Earth. What made them so powerful is the ability to think, to rationalise, to question. But there's something else, too: Communication. Though communication isn't unique to them, what's important is the extent and ingenuity with which they do it.

It can be said that a huge step in communication took place about 50,000 years ago, when we developed a very sophisticated method of speech: language. Language that included grammar and syntax. We could express ourselves much more clearly, we could pass on thoughts to the next generation. We could describe a much wider range of phenomenon. The importance of spoken articulation still isn't amiss amongst us. We still depend highly on "word of mouth".

Time moved ahead, we began spreading across the world, conquering lands all over, building civilizations from dirt. Our influence on the world was already visible. But something was missing; and 6000 years ago the Mesopotamians came up with Cuneiform, the earliest known written form of language. Respect for learning soon developed (they had libraries everywhere, even in temples). The civilization flourished. There came up various fields of knowledge, including technology. Similar examples of well-developed languages could be found at other places too: China, Egypt, The Indus Valley. Civilizations flourished here too.

Writing evolved from pictorial/hieroglyphic forms to alphabetic systems. Writing mediums varied, clay stones, walls, tortoise shells, all faced the might of the pen. It was the Chinese who invented paper about 2200 years ago, though its use as a writing medium began about 1900 years ago, again by China. But they didn't stop there. Around 868 AD, the Chinese were the first to develop a system for Printing. However, their system was a bit cumbersome, and hence prevented widespread usage, limiting itself to religious and administrative purposes only.

The "Western" system for printing wasn't developed until around 1500 AD, and soon became popular for its extreme versatility. Books could now be printed within short amounts of time, in large quantities. Knowledge could be spread in much easier ways. No wonder the renaissance soon hit those parts, and the Industrial revolution followed.

Things moved at an accelerated pace, and science became the "in" thing. The scientists of the 1800s times were like the rockstars of today. Electricity was a revolution in the making, and one of the first applications was the Telephone. Designs for this device date back to the 1850s, but weren't finalized and implemented until 1876, credit being given to Alexander Graham Bell. It revolutionized the world along with the telegraph. Large distance communication could now be visualized.

Satellite communication was the next thing to hit the world, and it paved the way to a world as we see now. Connected, updated, aware, lightening paced. But that wasn't the end.

The internet soon came in. It revolutionized communication. It soon developed into a personalized thing, and one of the results: blogging.

My whole point? Communication and discussion remains to be the cornerstone of human development. Its importance cannot be neglected. I've learnt one important lesson from IIT and blogging in general: to keep the "me" away from a good discussion. The issue at hand is more important than my beliefs/opinions. Searching for the truth is much more important than verifying what you believe in, or trying to show that you know a lot. However, once you know what you're speaking about, once you know that you are closer to the truth, the "me" must come back, and defend it. It must remain there, and also be aware that there is something to learn from everything.

So if at anytime, anywhere, I appear arrogant, aggressive and boisterous to you, I just want to say that it's my thirst for knowledge, and nothing else. Please don't take it personally.

The internet (especially services like Wikipedia, Google, Adobe Acrobat) has paved the way for a revolution. Blogs have taken communication to the utmost level, and we, as humans lucky enough to live in this age, must make the best of it and help our species reach new heights.

Internship Fiascos

2008-04-02T22:42:00.000+05:30

As part of a our four year course, Bachelor of Technology students at IIT are supposed to undergo compulsory summer internship, either abroad (in a university) or in industries in India. However, Murphy's law did its stuff once again, and this year, we third-year students were banned from applying to universities abroad for summer internships.

Thus, dreams of flying abroad, having foreigner girlfriends, tourism etc. were crushed to the core. People lamented, they cried, they opposed (though we weren't supposed to), but finally the institute reigned supreme, and we were left at the mercy of companies based in India. We were now dependent on our department's procedure of inviting companies and offering them fresh, savoury, cheap interns to be burdened with all the ghodagiri.

Companies came; people sent Resumes; some were Shortlisted; GD sessions took place; Interviews were conducted (personal or on the phone); And some lucky (oops! not lucky, hardworking, sincere) souls were finally selected. But somewhere, I was left out. I didn't know why, companies didn't even shortlist me. I found it very troubling at times, and soon began worrying about my future et al.

What made me wonder was that people less responsible than me got selected, while I remained rotting. It was at this time that I realised that something was wrong at the initial level itself. Going through my Resume, I found that I hadn't presented myself properly. That I didn't appear attractive to potential employers. I had to remake my Resume from the root itself, and the first company I sent the made-over Resume to selected me. That was Larsen and Toubro.

The day before I had to go for the GD and PI session for L&T, I prepared extensively. I swept around Wikipedia for knowledge on Corporations (learnt about Legal liability), Companies, Stock Markets, Mutual Funds, L&T (yes, I read its history too), Engineering corporations around the world, their share in the market, etc. Next thing, I revised concepts related to Electrical Machines because I had a hunch they would ask me about them.

What happened next:

8:00 AM :

Woke up, great day ahead. Thought about what to wear for the session. Decided on wearing a casual Black T-shirt and Jeans along with Shoes.

9:00 AM :

Reported at the Placement office. Stomach did a trapeze act when I noticed that most candidates had worn proper formal dresses. Didn't think it would matter much, though.

9:40 AM :

The GD session began. The topic:
"Social Responsibility vs. Legal Liability"

It basically dealt with how an Engineer should also worry about how his design should not harm human lives, rather than just worrying about money to earn. They presented us with a case study about Trenches being dug by construction companies (like L&T) and fatalities happening due to Trench wall collapsing. Well, I'll not digress here. Discussion on this topic is welcome.

I presented my arguments, did not impose, and heard everyone clearly. Even did a beautiful summary at the end.

11:00 AM :

Thought I should get my phone recharged; so went ahead to the Main Gate and got it done. I had assumed that the interviews would take place after the second GD session, and hence headed towards my room.

11:20 AM :

Reached my room, and was soon met with a rush of people asking me to hurry, as I had been selected for the interview!!

11:35 AM :

Reached the Placement Office, panting as if I was chased by a herd of Rabid dogs all across IIT. Somehow got my Resume printed, and went ahead for the interview. It was a great one, especially because rather than being a pain in the you-know-where, it was like a great discussion.

I wish to seriously thank the blog world for this part, because blogging has helped define me as a person. It has helped me grow. It has led to my love for discussions. It has helped refine my principles. It provided testing grounds to check for their applicability. Thanks to all of you.

The interview went just fine, though I did appear nervous a lot of the time. i was apprehensive about my selection. I thought I didn't present myself well.

12:20 PM :

Shook hands with the interviewer, and went ahead for the rest of the day.

16:45 PM :

Received a call (during a class) about my selection. Surprisingly, I wasn't surprised. Are you?

Well I'm gonna earn Rs. 11,000 per month, and the office is just 15 mins. from the campus.

What more could I ask for?

(Y)ears or Experience

2008-03-31T19:46:00.000+05:30

Okay, so the title isn't original. Whatever.

Views on music:

My post

Aditi's post #1

Aditi's post #2

Aditi's post #3

Express's post

Metal-Militant's post

Happy reading!

The Downfall of an IITian

2008-03-27T16:58:00.000+05:30

This post continues where the last one left off on the topic of IITians.

Before I go on, I'd like to refer you to a couple of previous posts of mine related to this topic:

Visions
The Waking

As I had mentioned in the last post, IITians have a lot of qualities owing to the JEE. But that does not mean they aren't human beings. Or that we are any different from non-IITians. They have their shortfalls, and I'm glad that IIT is one place that makes us better human beings. But it surely isn't the dreamland that everyone else seems to think it is. It is a land of broken dreams, a land of despair, a land where shining stars are brought down to Earth.

Almost all IITians have been "toppers" in their own ways all their lives. That is, sadly, one of the factors that keeps driving them towards remaining on the top. They get accustomed to it, and hence aren't prepared for the blow they are about to receive: IIT. They come here, and they find that they're no longer the best, the teacher's pet, the apple of their parent's eye. They compare themselves with others (biggest crime ever, I believe), lose hope, and stop working and keep comparing and wishing. I am glad that this happens because this is what IIT is good at, it teaches its students to be great human beings. It teaches them values, it makes great innovators, it makes human beings out of children.

Human beings. We are all rational creatures, we think, we can make sense out of anything, we can equal nature herself. I believe that the best definition for Rational action would be:

"All that is required for an action to be rational is that if one believes action X (which can be done) implies Y, and that Y is desirable, he or she does X. The action would likewise be avoided were Y undesirable"

A person does something because she/he thinks about the consequences, and chooses whether they are desirable and how much so. They assign priorities to what needs to be done. And this decides how much importance they give to a particular job.

All IITians appreciate knowledge. In fact, IITB's motto states: "ज्ञानं परमं ध्येयम" which translates to "Knowledge is the Ultimate Goal". I believe this statement to be extremely true. To be able to clear JEE, you need to respect knowledge. You need to like science and maths. You need to find and appreciate its applications in real life. You need to appreciate the hard work that went behind it. You need to keep thinking, keep questioning. You need to study for knowledge's sake, not for receiving marks, not for getting a rank. Sadly, things change after you get into IIT. Courses need to be completed, knowledge isn't given a priority, what matters is your presence of mind, your ability to grasp complicated concepts in short durations of time. This repels a lot of students initially. They feel that studying something just for the sake of studying it is detrimental to themselves, and aren't accustomed to this way of gaining knowledge. This leads to a lack of effort from their part, because they stop finding studying as rational. They find studying for marks, for CPI as undesirable, because they have developed a respect for knowledge. Things build up soon, and many find themselves deep in the mire within a couple of semesters.

Related to this is another issue, something that is very close to me. Many students (including me) stop working because they stop enjoying it. They come to know (too late) that they have chosen a path that wasn't meant for them. I believe that we should work for something that we enjoy, something that we will love to give hours for. It is sad to find so many around me who haven't yet found what they're looking for, or those who have been forced to IIT, or those who have been admitted to wrong streams (this is a very sensitive issue, because there was an infamous suicide by a student due to this very issue). It is sad to find talented, hardworking people lost in this way, either misguided or confused or forced.

Things are changing, yes. But too slowly. Parents stop realising that wanting their children to survive by following the crowd isn't loving their child.

If I were a father, I would realise that truly loving your child involves knowing your child enough to realise what she/he loves to do. It involves knowing that your child will be able to survive in the best way only if they work for what they love to do. It involves knowing that no field is the best, there is endless opportunities everywhere, no field is dead.

Truly loving your child is trusting them enough to know that they will succeed in what they love to do, no matter what comes their way.

Shishupal Credit

2008-03-21T21:42:00.000+05:30

Says the attendance sheet next to the roll number 05007024, which belongs to a great friend of mine, Shishupal Singh. I cannot say where the 'Credit' came from, but it was source of Ravi's jokes for some days and also of my endless amusement at them. But before I describe Shishupal, I think I should give some more information on IITians in general.

The Typical Shishupal Pic

We IITians are available in a lot of varieties: long, short, ugly, beautiful, intelligent, smart, confused, angry, foolish, innocent, childish, gayish... But what connects all IITians, the one thread of relation that weaves through us all, is the fact that all of us have cleared JEE (Joint Entrance Examination), which is supposedly one of the toughest examinations on the planet. And not only is it tough, it is extremely competitive. Merely 5,000 out of the 2,00,000 students who participate qualify the examination.

The fact that a person has qualified JEE tells a lot about them:

They are intelligent: Well, I believe everybody who has a normal brain is intelligent. But IITians have a knack for grasping things much easily than others. Also, they tend to observe things that many won't. And lastly, rarely can you find people with the developed ability to think out of the box. JEE as an examination requires all of this.
They have an exceptional ability to focus: Which is a strict requirement if you want to prepare for something like JEE. Also, performing well in JEE depends on your level of concentration during the exam.
They are good managers of time: When the situation requires it, IITians can very effectively divide the time they have in accordance with what the situation demands. The JEE has a huge curriculum, and it is necessary for an aspirant to devote justifiable amounts to each topic. Also, the examination itself requires a lot of time management skills.
They have the ability to withstand pain: Many IITians either force themselves to work hard and fight against themselves or willingly agree to do it under guidance. Whatever the case maybe, IITians can easily dispose of with comfort.
They are extreme hard workers: This is the point that I want to stress here. Even after being intelligent, if a person doesn't work hard enough, they cannot clear JEE. That's the beauty of the examination: it requires hard work and determination, not intelligence or prodigious talent.

Having said all that, I must make it clear that not all IITians have had these qualities built into them from birth. Many learn them under extreme discipline from coaching institutes while many learn it on their own. However, all IITians certainly possess them, no matter how they have prepared, no matter what background they have come from, no matter how they look, or how they talk, or what language they speak. All IITians have the JEE in common.

Sadly, after entering IIT, many IITians stop using these abilities. They lay rusting. Many find themselves deeply indulged in the simple pleasures IIT can offer: the net (that includes blogging :D), sports, sleeping, gaming, even Television sitcoms!

To give the reason for this has been one of the motives of my blog. But since this post is dedicated to Shishupal, I'll leave that for the next post.

Shishupal has been one of the members of Libidos, the wing that I used to live in our first year. However, my friendship with him can be said to have truly begun from last to last semester. Shishupal and Ravi have always been the best of friends. Ravi being one of my best friends ever at IITB, it was but natural that Shishupal and I would become friends eventually.

Mugging up at GG building, the Shishupal way

Shishupal hails from Badaun, Bareilly, Uttar Pradesh. His schooling wasn't the royal comfort many of us have enjoyed in life. I am not allowed to divulge on this point further and give details. Nevertheless, my point is that Shishupal has endured a lot for JEE.

Yet another Shishupal Pic

..And this is how Shishupal looks like when not posing for a Pic

Yet, here I find Shishupal, one of the underdogs in this “sapnon ki duniya” that is called IIT. Not only Shishupal, many students find themselves in this situation just after a couple of semesters. What marks this transition from JEE cracker to guy-who-can’t-even-solve-simple-integral? My next post will explore this. I just want to say this to Shishupal: you’re wittier than half the population inside IIT, your brain thinks clearly than many. I know that it is tough to surface once you’re engulfed in this wave of “give up”, but as a friend, I want you to fight, to work with spirit, I want you to survive, not for anything else but as a tribute to your hard work for JEE. Do you think that anyone among the 5000 that clear JEE is any better or any worse than his fellows? Not at all, I believe. We are all extremely capable; it’s just our attitude towards something that determines what we achieve.

Shishupal is one of the wittiest people around. His sense of humour, though heavily farcical, is absolutely marvellous. Not only that, he makes his delivery perfect. You can’t help but laugh your ass off when you see that expression on his face, or that series of antics that usually accompanies it. But it isn’t ever complete until Ravi the maverick joins Shishupal. Just witnessing one of their usual encounters will leave you in fits, desperately seeking air in your lungs:

Situation #1:

There’s a general discussion that’s going on, somewhere someone mentions “fatte” or something remotely funny (more on IITian lingo here)

Out of the blue, Ravi comes up with a fart like: “Fatte nahi to kya tatte maarun?”

Shishupal reacts with a look of surprise and disgust at this fart, as if someone just insulted him. Then he usually will retort back:

“Mote tu itne gande fart kyun maarta hai, yaar?”

And/Or

“Bahut hi bura tha yaar ye waala...”

And/Or

He simply attacks Ravi with his usual blows, to which Ravi generally reacts with (failed) attempts to block the hits. Then, just when it gets on Ravi’s nerves, Shishupal runs away leaving Ravi muttering curses (usually with a stone or stick in hand, ready to hit Shishupal).

Before this happens, just because of the look on Shishupal’s face I am already in fits.

Situation #2:

I’m the whiny one in this trio, and I relate daily incidents or ranting towards professors or just people in general. It once so happened that this old balding guy had a go on me while I was leaving the Canteen, because I had forgotten to dispose the paper cups that I had used and lay there on the table:

“Isn’t it your responsibility to clean up before you leave?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll do it”

(I’d like to explain myself: I’m totally against littering. In fact, I’m one of those who keep litter in their pockets until they find a dustbin. The staff at the canteen usually clears up all the mess left on the table. That was the reason I left it the same way. I thought of retorting and explaining, but then I thought of letting him having his fill and apologised. But he went on.)

“Wait. You’re a student, you study here, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re in which year?”

“Third year”

“And yet you haven’t developed a sense of belonging to this place? How shameful.”

(Totally uncalled for, but well, I ignored him and went ahead.)

When I told this to Ravi and Shishupal:

Ravi goes into a little skit of the incident, how he would’ve reacted:

“Isn’t it you responsibility to clean up before you leave?”

“I’m sorry”

“Wait. You’re a student here, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re in which y....”

*Ravi raises one hand and hits an imaginary (bald) head, complete with sound effects “Yaaa... Pataach!”*

Shishupal: “Nahi nahi... aise nahi”

“Isn’t it your responsibility to clean up before you leave?”

“I’m sorry”

“Wait. You’re a student here, right?”

“Yes.”

“Y...mmmpppfff”

*Choking action by Shishupal, after which a series of gestures portraying brutality of various measures*

Situation #3:

The “tidish tidish” scene: We’ve all survived the Ekta Kapoor experience. The “tidish tidish” scene is generally when some vamp insults some (innocent, “pure”) heroine or some secret is revealed.

Well, Shishupal’s version:

In response to farts from me and Ravi: Angry, surprised look on face, “tidish tidish”, followed by fake blows and slaps to the source of the fart.

Situation #4:

Well, this will make more sense to those of you who've experienced Need For Speed: Most Wanted. The very last challenge of the game is to avoid cops (furiously trying to get you, the toughest in the whole game) for about 10 mins, before you can jump away to glory over a long valley.

Well, Shishupal tried to crack this level for about 2 days, towards the end of which he somehow managed to learn to avoid those cops for 10 mins. At last, he managed to reach the valley, and sped up his car for a huge jump, and before he did it, raised his hands in jubilation... And fell down in the valley!

His expression was priceless!

Ravi likes to describe it as :"Yaaaaaa! khacchak!".

(The sound of fake triumph followed shortly by the sound of "kat gaya"

)

We were drunk: They with alcohol, I with Music.

Shishupal the Sadist:

Well as is evident from above, Shishupal enjoys hitting. That induced me to term him as a sadist. He liked it. This guy possesses a pair of extremely strong, eager hands that hurt. I wondered aloud once about the fate of his future wife-to-be. To this, he mentioned (sorry, ladies) that he would compress his wife’s breasts during sex as if they were balloons. Masochist girls are invited.

Poor future children of Shishupal. Hehe!

Chandler Bing, anyone?

You can always have a good discussion with him on any topic where he can present extremely sensible and mature points of view. Of course, there’s the usual frequent joke that will pop in, along with his trademark antics. But that will only keep the discussion alive. Shishupal appreciates talent and hard work, and what’s most important, has the spirit burning inside him. He isn’t one of those that will degrade themselves, licking asses to go ahead in life. I’m sure he’d rather mutilate himself than do that. He still has his goals set high, and I sincerely hope that he keeps them high until one day he finally achieves them.

Shishupal is and will remain to be a great friend.

I hope that you find what you really want to do someday and pursue it with the same fervour as JEE. I hope that you will stop giving up easily, and stop running away from responsibility. And most importantly, I hope that you will remain the good human being that you are.

He will always remind me of the good times here in this sacred land of IIT.

More Comics For You!

2008-03-13T18:47:00.000+05:30

Seems like I'm getting addicted to www.pbfcomics.com

Well, art is available in so many forms, and comics can surely be one great art form, as readers of Garfield and Calvin & Hobbes will agree.

Well, here's another one from XKCD (www.xkcd.com):

Don't worry, it takes a REAL programmer to understand this joke!

P.S. For those who are interested, according to the author of xkcd, REAL programmers "set the universal constants at the start such that the universe evolves to contain the disk with the data they want."

...And This is Not One of Them Part II

2008-03-10T23:33:00.000+05:30

Well, for those of you who haven't seen my take on generalisations, check it out here.

"Ignorance is Bliss"

To make my discussion complete, let me include the definitions from the Merriam-Webster's online dictionary:

Ignorance: lack of knowledge, education, or awareness.

Bliss: complete happiness.

The statement itself is presented as an if and only if statement (that is, either of them imply either of them).
Now anybody can agree that bliss is not ignorance. As the definition suggests, bliss is complete happiness, and happiness is generally based on some knowledge. Can someone be happy without having something to be happy about?
Now, ignorance is lack of knowledge and we thus have that bliss cannot be ignorance.

On the other hand, we have the statement ignorance is bliss. As happiness is based on something, negative emotions too are based on things. Ignore these things, and you'll continue in your state of bliss, assuming that you were in a state of bliss before. So you see, Ignorance cannot be in itself bliss. Further, ignoring things that make you happy doesn't lead to bliss, does it? Can you ignore the result of a cricket match (assuming you love cricket)?

In fact there exist situations where ignorance is not at all bliss. The brain is an inquisitive device, because it is guided by instincts. Ignore these instincts, and you ignore your own survival. If your survival is at stake, can you be in Bliss?

Nice Attitude

2008-03-05T13:52:00.001+05:30

How I wish everyone here at IIT had the same spirit! The country would then have had a much diverse talent, not just loads of half-hearted engineers.

The author is the awesome Nicholas Gurewitch. His work is called The Perry Bible Fellowship.

Check it out here: www.pbfcomics.com

Beautiful Yet Brutal

2008-02-24T21:27:00.000+05:30

They call themselves Opeth. They consist of :

Mikael Åkerfeldt
Fredrik Åkesson
Martin Mendez
Martin "Axe" Axenrot
Per Wiberg

Their music hasn't yet been labeled by a genre. Some call it Progressive Rock, some call it Progressive Death Metal. I'm not sure, and I don't care. All that matters to me is that their music is beautiful. And powerful.

Music, to me is about expression. Every art is. To me, music speaks in a way that no other art does. I believe that the best music is that which conveys the basic emotion that the artist wants to convey. It's not about the lyrics. It's not about silly love confessions to female heroines. I've mentioned this before: lyrics to me are secondary, something which are auxiliary to the music. Music shouldn't be about lyrics. Lyrics should be about the music.

My criterion to like music is that it should take me through a journey of emotions. Especially emotions powerful enough to stir something in me. It should make me wander into myself, to feel truly what made the artist wanted to convey, because what is expressed is already present in me, the artist, all of us. That expression should be good enough to remind me of the things that exist within me.

Opeth's music is strong, yet calm. It's angry, yet "spiritual". It's loud and yet soothing.

I've grown addicted to a song of theirs called "The Drapery Falls". It's from an album called "Blackwater Park", released in 2001. I haven't really paid any attention to the lyrics, and do not know what they say.

The song begins with a simple and sweet strumming acoustic guitar, which is soon ridden by a powerful riff which further carries on top of itself a very expressive series of notes. This beginning is so mighty and captivating that no matter what I'm doing, no matter what my mood is, it catches me, and I'm drawn into myself, feeling power surge through me. I feel pain, yet pain in a beautiful way.

The heavy instruments then withdraw and are left with the sweet strumming of the acoustic guitar again, which is now accompanied by the beautiful vocals from Akerfeldt. The vocal lead me through a path, as if I'm going through a journey, a sweet one. It is interjected by heavy bursts, but only occasionally. As if the journey is not just a walk in the park. As if I know that the journey won't be one.

But soon, this calm atmosphere is clouded by angry, surprising riffs. It made me feel that I've encountered a barrier in my journey, one that I already knew of, but was trying to avoid. It makes me feel angry, yet it makes me feel excited, an instinctive joy to face a challenge.

The riffs are accompanied by Akerfeldt's growling "Death" vocals. They accentuate the anger in the situation, they glorify the effort required to encounter the barrier, an appreciation of the fact that humanity can overcome any obstacle in it's way.

The riffs suddenly stop along with the growls, and are replaced with soft, calm strums which, to me, mean that I have stumbled upon a tentative solution to the barrier. Akerfeldt's vocals become soft again, as if in peace. This mellow tune is unexpectedly interrupted by heavy bursts, which represent the debate and contemplation that goes on in the mind while arriving at the final solution.

This alternating between heavy and light goes on, until we're led into the very tune that the song began with, and I finally realise why it felt so liberating in the beginning, because it was an ending just like this one, painful because of the effort it required, yet beautiful because it represented a conquest upon a hurdle.

The tune continues on till it fades out, signifying an end, but another beginning.....

BGF Speaks

2008-02-23T07:51:00.000+05:30

(Before you read and wonder what this is all about, please read the last post.)

I have been associated with the field of Power Electronics since 19 years ago, when I joined a Master's course over at IITK. Today, while working for this field at IITB, I teach students as young as my career. I have been a professor since '93. I consider it as a responsibility to induce young minds to join me in this field of work. My love remains working for the line I have chosen.

I know that my methods of disseminating knowledge are unconventional. I have been and continue to be one of the most hated people among students. Every year I go through this agony. I meet these brilliant minds, India's finest. I see bright futures for them. Men question everything. My job is to question something that has been essential to people of this age: Power generation and transmission. I want these bright minds here. I want them to work. Research, to me, is one of the best services to humankind. When I see the best of the future inclining towards money and fame rather than service, I just cannot stand it. I try my best to steer their minds. It seems to be of no use. I'm wasting time here. Yet, I try.

I wonder why they joined engineering in the first place if they just wanted software jobs. Isn't it required of them that they adhere to what they have learnt in these precious years? Why they shun working for their own line of study misses me. Why do the young ones of these age not study their own subjects?

They come to classes as if they're doing us a favour. They bunk classes. Had it not been for the institute's strict policy, they would've bunked even more. They go on with their silly patter. They assume that their life's perfect. They think they have done all that has to be done. And yet, when I question them, they remain dumbfounded. A perfect example would be this gentleman I taught last semester:

I can't remember his name. I don't care. All I remember is his roll no. (04). and his rebellious attitude. While most of the students in class genuinely try to understand what I'm trying to say, students like no. 04 here felt it safe enough to ponder into his own world. I don't know what he keeps on thinking about, why I sometimes see a bright mind, capable of lot. Maybe that is the reason why I thought of teaching him a lesson. I have failed, sadly. He didn't improve. He didn't care. Maybe he'll remain to be indifferent. Sometimes I wonder why minds waste themselves in this way.

As a teacher, I believe that a student must respect the fact that the teacher is willing enough to share his knowledge. Alas, today's generation fails to see it. They act like they're the one who should be respected. Mindless young people. Roll no. 04 here always showed that he didn't care. It was always visible in his eyes, utter disrespect. His audacity to have come to me and told me that my ways of teaching were inadequate, that the excellent book I made them refer to was incomprehensible, was totally insolent.

I believe that the young need to be told what to do. They are too foolish and inexperienced to decide themselves. Things need to be driven into their mind. But I thought IITians were different. I expected them to outdo me, to read before I teach. It is the complete opposite I experience. I want their minds to remain as sharp as ever. Every class of mine is a challenge to them, a puzzle to solve, to wonder about. I wish that they understand that. Instead many choose to keep themselves aloof. It's their choice. I just wish they would learn to apply their brains to everything. My pace in my classes at IITB is seething. Students outside IIT aren't supposed to understand it. But to see that happening at IIT. It angers me. They have the ability. They just don't want to use it.

I will continue to teach the way I want to teach. IIT is an institute of repute. I don't want it tarnished. Hopefully I'll be able to see the students I want to see.

BGF II : The Encounter

2008-02-22T11:55:00.000+05:30

Well, as I have mentioned in my initial posts, this blog was created to describe my experiences at IITB, especially the ones with people. People who I love and people who I hate. I've mentioned many of them in my earlier posts. Friends and Professors alike have made it to my list. I've mentioned earlier that there is some kind of cold war that goes on in IITB between the professors and the students. Someone wrote about it in the Campus Newsletter:

"It's only natural that there is conflict between the authority and those authorised upon. However, inside IIT you can find that it is serious. One one side we have the professors and the administration, on the other side we have students. We have had some bad experiences inside campus. Why is it that every time something of this sort happens, each party is quick enough to blame the other?"

I found the above comment very nicely put. No one side can be burdened by the blame. What happened was the responsibility of everyone.

This and the next post will be an attempt to explain the two sides of IIT.

IIT is supposed to have the best arsenal of Professors in India. My experiences here at IITB were nothing but a total letdown. IIT isn't the place of your dreams, it's JUST good enough to be a world class institute. IIT cannot, by any means, assist to the development of an individual in terms of knowledge. That requires a Herculean effort from the student.

Consider this: JEE is supposed to be one of the toughest examinations on Earth. An average newborn IITian can at anytime beat his equivalent in any other institute in this world (For example, MIT). But at the end of four years, how is it that us IITians fall behind? How is it that MIT produces better graduates? Further, the program at MIT is much less demanding than that at IIT.

Well, I can't explain this in general. But in my case, IIT ruined my interest towards academics. It destroyed my interest in Science and Engineering. You might get an idea why this happened from the following:

I 've written about many professors under whom I have studied, and I have already dedicated a whole post to Prof. B.G. Fernandes (popularly known as BGF) :

This guy deserves to be mentioned again because:

1) I had another course under him last semester.

2) His tyranny (particularly towards me) was enough to deserve second mention.

The course that he taught this time was "Power Electronics", which is a very important and emerging field (especially in India) of work for an Electrical Engineer, because it is concerned with using our energy resources efficiently. I'm sorry to say that because of BGF's attitude towards us students and his general method of teaching, I now totally hate the subject. I know that this is childish on my part, but I will never ever turn my interest towards this field. I have learnt nothing from the course he taught us.

In fact, I never intended to be an Electrical Engineer at all. My primary interests were (and remain to be) in the field of Computer Science. It was only because of not-so-well-thought-of advice from my father, and my own immature nature during that period that I have been stuck in this field. Naturally, I haven't been that enthusiastic about studying Electrical Engineering and its nitty-gritty. I'm interested in the field of Electronics because it is closely related to Computer Science. However, the detailed study of Electrical Energy generation and transmission? Nothing could induce me to inculcate an interest in this topic, no matter how important it may be to humanity.

It was this diffidence that BGF observed in me during the very first lecture of the course. He caught me while I was inquiring from my neighbour the peculiarities of an equation on the board. This invited fury from BGF's part. I was made to stand up:

"What's your roll no.?"
"7004."
"Well, Roll No.04, describe .... *some obscure question*"
Of course, I replied what I knew about the topic.
"Is that it? Well, that's what I had expected from people like you, roll no. 04."

That was totally unexpected. Not only was this remark in bad taste, it was meant to ridicule me and set an example for the class. He was just showing the rest of the class what not to become.

I was a scapegoat of his in every subsequent class. I was always referred to as "Roll No. 04", just like a jailer would refer to one of his prisoner. I felt trapped.

I tried to study for the course and work hard, but the textbook which we were advised to refer to was of an extremely complicated nature. It was meant for people who had had a basic understanding of the concepts that underly power electronics. Clearly, as a newcomer to this topic, I wasn't able to make head or tail of it.

Moreover, BGF's way of explaining things was very strange. I feel that the biggest problem with him was that he expected too much out of us students. He assumed a lot when he would explain things. He would skip descriptions about things that he thought were too obvious for us. Little did he know that there were several of us who got stuck at the very root of the tree whose branches he was trying to make us climb.

It was BGF's nature not to explain things to us, but rather drive it into our heads, like we were some kind of robots, to be programmed. He would use anger and fear as his weapons to gain attention (and strangely, respect, which he got from a lot of my friends). He would shout, repeat things unnecessarily, and bang things on the table.

As a student, I believe that if someone were to teach something to people, he needs to respect, first of all, the inquisitiveness of the students. He would then need to evoke interest from the students by believing in them and introducing the topic. The next step automatically follows: respect from students, not because of the teacher's ability at the subject, but because of his interest in it and his desire to explain it to others.

In my opinion, a teacher does not need force to explain things to his students. If he were to set an example, students will automatically understand what he wants to say. It's not about charisma, but about respect. Respect has to be mutual. You cannot expect attention and respect if you were not to give it to others. You do not need shouting, anger or violence to gain attention. If what you're doing is sincere, people will automatically listen to you. BGF clearly misses this subtle point.

I hated BGF because of his inability to evoke interest from our side. It was also his dry way of teaching that evoked ire from me. As classes progressed, he gave me more reasons to hate him. After my dreadful performance in the Mid-Semesters, I gathered enough courage and strength to confess to him my failure to understand in class. I requested him to mention a simpler reference. He simply replied, " I don't know". Is that the reply of a person who wants knowledge to be spread?

After that, his classes would be pure torture for me. I had to sit there, understanding nothing, yet paying my fullest attention, expecting a question to be flung at me at any moment, fearing it, especially the mockery of myself when I wasn't able to answer anything. Moreover, I had to attend his classes. There are strict rules attached with attendance in IIT. Of course, there were a few classes here and there that I missed, but he never failed to mentioned my absence during those.

Towards the end of the course, BGF tried to teach things that I 'm able to understand only this semester (Thanks to a Control Systems course, more on it later). He expected us to understand them spontaneously and answer questions! He wanted us to be able to think out of the box, when we weren't even able to think inside the box. He expected every student to be involved in research. He hated those who thought otherwise.

This is what I had to endure. I managed to pass the course with a measly 5/10.

And this isn't the case in my branch, either. There's a BGF in every department. In fact, in some departments, there are multiple BGFs. How people endure that, I cant imagine.

I know that this sounds like a lot of whining from me, and that whining is good for nothing, and all that. But I've been reading "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand lately, and the only time the lead character, Howard Roark, feels pity is when this another character, Peter Keating (who is an architect, not by choice, but by his mother's desire) shows him some paintings which he did on his own (painting was his primary interest in life, especially when he was young) after he falls out of popularity as an architect. Roark simply says, "Too late, Peter."

I still love Programming. It's what I always wanted to do. IIT was supposed to be a step towards it. Instead, it turned out to be a step back. Surely, IIT will land me a good job, surely I'll be called successful, but is it really what I want?

I hope I'm not too late.

Sex Story

2008-02-19T20:50:00.000+05:30

She felt his presence near her. She yearned for him, a hunger so strong, so powerful, yet so beautiful. Her flesh desired him as she felt him come closer to her. She knew that today she would have to submit, and also that he knew it well.

The moment she had seen him, her femininity had craved to be invaded by him. The very thought of his strong body against her own soft skin was enough to make her moist. Though she had been feeling the need lately, his presence always doubled it. Her skin would tingle with anticipation, her heart would pulsate, and her abdomen would remind her of it's existence. It was electrifying. She had never missed an opportunity to watch him, while he noticed her every move. She couldn't resist him any longer.

She knew that he felt her body react the moment he touched her. She wondered how will he use her: would he make her writhe with pleasure by subjecting her to his fury, or would he treat her carefully making her crave his hardness?

She felt him control her body as he moved behind her and pushed her with his brute strength. His arms gripped her waist as he softly bit into her neck. She reacted equally, while she pushed against his stance and felt him rub against her. She felt his tool, throbbing with excitation, and she couldn't wait, she needed him inside her. Her entrance felt on fire. It overflowed with her sweet juices.

He made his hold stronger as he felt her hungry body all ready for his presence. He pushed all his way inside her in one thrust, as he heard a loud moan from her, almost a yelp, demanding that he satisfy her with his power. She felt a hunger so strong that she knew nothing else, as he bit harder into her neck. She tried to move and quench her thirst, but he didn't let her. Slowly, as if playing with her, he recovered his thrust from her, feeling every inch of her moist opening. As soon as he reached near the end, he loosened his grip and let her hips sway towards his, which were quick to react and launched into a series of wild thrusts. But he stopped her again, and let his full weight upon her, as he launched into a frenzy of pushes, each hungrier and mightier than before. He sensed his satisfaction coming near as he felt tension take over his abdomen.

She felt the pain from his thrusts, a pain so brutal, yet so sweet, so satisfying. She felt blood rush to her muscles as they held him tightly and made his entrance even more difficult. She experienced gratification as well as yearning accompanied with each of his impulse. She felt a bliss so luscious she wished she could remain in this state forever, yet she wanted more, violently responding to him as she felt closer to her climax. She heard herself screaming with pleasure helplessly as he bore into her with increasing persistence. Her body tensed as she prepared for waves of furious pleasure to engulf.

He felt her sex gripping him mightily, and as he pushed into her, he couldn't help but moan in sharp, short bursts and she felt it coming to her, a pain, a sea of indulgence taking hold of every muscle in her body as she felt a pleasure so great, as if this was the very reason for her existence. Waves of pleasure started hitting her as she felt him tighten and shaking with equal intensity. She felt his release, his sweet seed bursting inside her, inundating her deepest core, he felt a powerful force grab every muscle of his body, and felt a pleasure so delectable he couldn't help screaming with relief and joining in the sharp yells of his partner--
Wham!
Out of nowhere came a stone which hit the surface of the road and cracked into pieces.

Someone was heard saying, "Damn dogs! start fucking anywhere in the middle of the night!!".

Even the Identity Matrix Doesn't Work!

2008-02-14T16:28:00.000+05:30

Ahh.. so I did post something on Valentine's!
I'm totally in the same plane as the author of this wonderful comic:

www.xkcd.com

(Even the title was shamelessly copied from the image's description. Oh well.)

Happy Made-Up Holiday to you all!

P.S. If at all you love somebody, you won't need a special day to wish them.
However, if you've forgotten to do so since a long time, begin today.
I wished my parents last night. And it was straight from my heart. It was beautiful.
Go on. Make someone's day! Who knows, they've been waiting for you.

... And This is Not One of Them

2008-02-10T13:55:00.000+05:30

Generalisations. It's not very uncommon to hear people generalise about almost everything in life. "All Politicians are evil", "All IITians are nerds", "All Americans are egoists", "All of life is an illusion". These are very closely related to opinions. And as I said earlier, having an opinion is easy, but to be able to keep it to yourself and respect everyone else's opinions isn't. But generalisations are one step ahead: they're meant to be kept at the back of one's mind, to be used as a basis for forming an opinion about something. People account things that happen to them to generalisations, we just don't want to analyse the situation properly, as it requires effort.

I heard this being spoken some time back: "Everything has exceptions."

It stuck to my mind. I found the sentence itself irritating. but I couldn't concentrate on it at that time. But when it came back to me, I began thinking: What exactly is an exception? If something doesn't follow a given rule (or generalisation), we call it an exception.
Given this definition, the following came to my mind:

Assume that "Everything has exceptions" is true. Now, it becomes a rule.

According to the very statement, there must be an exception to every rule.

"Everything has exceptions" is itself a rule, and hence it must have an exception.

Thus, there must be something which has NO exceptions, which in itself is a contradiction to our assumption.

Hence our assumption is wrong.

Thus, there must exist at least one rule which has no exceptions. Maybe these are the laws of Thermodynamics, maybe something else... I'm not sure. Science is mostly based on some assumption, some rule which we don't find an exception to. Theories are developed on these assumptions. But science is dynamic, and if exceptions are found, new theories are formed to explain them.

I remain in search for more generalisations to smash, especially the ways to smash them.
Try it yourself, it's fun. And tell me if you do.

Might Be Injurious to Your Health

2008-01-31T17:34:00.000+05:30

Subhojit Das stood waiting at the murky bus station situated near Gariahat Road, in the dense, busy city called Kolkata. The battered old Government bus, marked with a no. 10, arrived; Subhojit boarded it. He was headed towards Sealdah, where he worked in a local Jeweller's shop.

Subhojit sat down, the bus was almost empty. He looked around, and saw a man of around his age sitting ahead of him, an old man a few seats ahead, a woman seated opposite to him, and a college girl behind him. "No Smoking", said a sign right next him; He smirked inside his mind. He pulled out a pack, drawing out one of the white sticks of pleasure. Lighting it with a match, he took a mighty puff.

Debashish Ghosh looked at the man seated behind him. He was traveling towards a market situated near J.C. Bose Road. He was new to the city, felt that it was larger than life. When he saw a cigarette being pulled out, he couldn't resist. Fishing for one in his pocket, he felt the longing for the thing he always felt. He found one and lit it.

Subhojit felt good that he wasn't the only one. He felt that he and the man ahead belonged together. It wasn't a bond of habits, he knew that the person ahead of him was as desperate as he was. It was a bond of personalities. Somehow, his action seemed justified. However, he soon became aware of a pair of eyes gazing him. Debashish was in a world of his own, but knew that he couldn't be satisfied by a single one. He had just lit his first, but knew that it wouldn't be sufficient. However, amidst his reverie, he felt a sharp gaze pointed at him and the man behind him.

Both of them looked at the lady seated across them. She had a contemplative look in her eyes as she was glancing at the men. Something about her face made the men suddenly aware of what they were doing.

Subhojit was used to stares, but this one was different, he didn't know why. He felt contempt against people who judged against people who smoked. They could never know how it saved him from the agony of life, he thought. He remembered the time when he began smoking. All of his friends did, and it felt soothing. It felt great to be under the influence of something so powerful. It provided salvation from pain. It was the only thing left in his life. He had progressed to two packets a day, smoking whenever he felt like: under stress, without stress, with friends, alone.... But somehow, today, the feeling of remorse got better of the usual comfort he found in smoking.

Debashish couldn't help but feel a certain twinge of pity. He knew that what he was doing was supposed to make him feel better, but it didn't now. He knew smoking made him appear stronger, like a man of convictions, a man who nobody can mess with. But he felt this to be a mere pretense today more than anything else. He felt that he was weaker than most people; that he had no convictions. He felt a huge blank in his life, felt a need for friends, for someone who could understand him.

Both men looked at the woman once again, not knowing what to feel: hatred or gratitude, anger or respect, pain or hope.

The woman looked at the men once again, and feeling comfortable enough, drew a Beedi from her purse, lit it and began puffing.

P.S. Thanks to my great friend Shishupal for this one. Based on a real life incident as told to me by him.