Assorted Nutshells

A Year and a Half

2012-01-17T12:38:00.001+05:30

Time has simply whizzed past since my last post as has the semester, albeit with its occasional dull moments that seem to take forever to pass, which, I am told, is normal. I have gotten into a mindset in which anything more than one course a semester seems daunting and terribly impossible to see through. That is more than easily made up for by the several hours a week spent teaching basic dynamics, a task which in itself can be quite tricky, partly due to the vast disparity in mathematical aptitude amongst the undergraduate students in these parts. The rest of my time, and almost all of my mental capacity is occupied by my research, and freed most effectively by the time spent in the kitchen. This is the story of Fall 2011.

The end of last semester also involved an renewed interest in instrumental music, thanks to the virtuosic Guthrie Govan, a terrific musician whose weapon of choice is the guitar. A renewed interest in the guitar itself followed soon after and I have since been trying a more systematic approach to learning guitar than the one I had previously employed - a chronological study of the Beatles being my first (non-pedantic) undertaking. The arrival of migrants from warmer parts of the world made the semester break very enjoyable indeed, although at the cost of my guitar regime, a small price to pay for the profits that were reaped. Winter was anything but wintry; I felt very much at home.

After a month-long break, my fourth semester here begins today. Research-wise, I find myself quite comfortable, high on some fresh home-grown stuff on eigen modes of bubble oscillations. A meeting with the other TAs is in order, to smoothly accommodate the new masses of unenlightened sophomores. In addition, I intend to transfer to the PhD program around May, not to mention the Spring birding which which I must strive to wake up in time for, the overdue travel that better happen this Spring break, the bicycle that I must build (and then ride) and the camera that I must explore in detail. Add the guitar to the mix and I'm looking at a semester that is far denser than its predecessors. It's time I got cracking, no?

Home and back

2011-08-10T21:33:00.009+05:30

Most of my posts over thelast year or so have been closely associated with travel. Maybe it’s because achange of location brings with it a change in mental state of a strength thatcontrasts only too well against the relative insipidity that has come to be associatedwith my daily routine – a thought that I ought to keep in mind and develop, inthe interest of more fruitful time management.

Bangalore is the same as it was a year ago. Namma Metrowork still occupies most of the city's major roadways, and now sports anadditional layer of cinema posters and advertisements. Traffic hasn't gottenany better, though I can't say with any level of certainty that it's gottenworse either.

The visit back home wasnear-perfect - time with family, a week-long escape to the countryside, meetingfriends over weekends, some decent birding, and the great food and drink (readmasala dosa and filter kaapi). The trip to Surathkal I so badly wanted will have to wait for next year, but that apart, there are few things I would have changed about this visit.

Having arrived questioningwhether home would feel the same as it used to a year ago, I’m now preparing toleave, thankful that those qualms were unwarranted, and wishing I could stayfor another month. To me, this has been more than a holiday; it has been anaffirmation of my sense of belonging to the place I call home.

Birds

2011-01-08T12:08:00.003+05:30

South Florida is a terrific place for birds, this time of the year. Here's an incomplete list of birds I spotted there - there are tons more that I have been unable to identify. For completeness sake, I've also included the ones I've seen in Illinois. I've tried grouping similar or related birds together in this list.
Credits to en.wikipedia.org, www.whatbird.com and www.allaboutbirds.org, all three of which I used extensively.

Laughing Gull, Non-breeding plumage - Key West, FL

Muscovy Duck, Cairina moschata
Mottled Duck, Anas fulvigula
Common Moorhen, Gallinula chloropus
Snowy Egret, Egretta thula
Great Egret, Ardea alba
Cattle Egret, Bubulcus ibis
Little Blue Heron, Egretta caerulea
Great Blue Heron, Ardea Herodias
Tricolored Heron, Egretta tricolor
White Ibis, Eudocimus albus
Glossy Ibis, Plegadis falcinellus
Anhinga, Anhinga anhinga
American White Pelican, Pelecanus erythrorhynchos
Brown Pelican, Pelecanus occidentalis
Belted Kingfisher, Megaceryle alcyon
Sanderling, Calidris alba
Common Tern, Sterna hirundo
Royal Tern, Thalasseus maxima
Laughing Gull, Leucophaeus atricilla
Black Skimmer, Rynchops niger
Osprey, Pandion haliaetus
Black Vulture, Coragyps atratus
Turkey Vulture, Cathartes aura
Sharp-shinned Hawk, Accipiter striatus – IL
Red-shouldered Hawk, Buteo lineatus
American Kestrel, Falco sparverius
Loggerhead Shrike, Lanius ludovicianus
White-winged dove, Zenaida asiatica
Rock Pigeon, Columba livia - IL , FL
Eurasian Collared Dove, Streptopelia decaocto
Mourning Dove, Zenaida macroura
Common Grackle, Quiscalus quiscula
Boat-tailed Grackle, Quiscalus major
Red-winged Blackbird, Agelaius phoeniceus
Red-bellied Woodpecker, Melanerpes carolinus
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Sphyrapicus varius
Canada goose, Branta Canadensis - IL
American Robin, Turdus migratorius
Northern Mockingbird, Mimus polyglottos
Brown Thrasher, Toxostoma rufum
Northern Cardinal, Cardinalis cardinalis – IL
Blue Jay, Cyanocitta cristata
American Crow, Corvus brachyrhynchos - IL, FL
Monk Parakeet, Myiopsitta monachus
Blue-grey Gnatcatcher, Polioptila caerulea
House sparrow, Passer domesticus - IL, FL

White Ibis - Boca Raton, FL

Brown Pelican - on the way to Key West, FL

Royal Terns - Key West, FL

Sadly enough I didn't have a camera in Boca Raton, where I spotted most of the birds on this list. The decent ones were shot with Varun's camera. The most exciting ones for me were the Great Blue Heron, which is probably the largest bird I've ever seen, and the Belted Kingfisher. The Skimmers at Key West I was quite excited to see - freakishly heavy bills! What the hell, they were all pretty amazing!

Flying South for the Winter

2011-01-07T04:47:00.004+05:30

Deciding to visit my uncle in Florida is probably the best decision I've made in a long time. I was quite pleasantly surprised as I looked out the window, the morning after I arrived at my uncle's home.

After a bit of Googling, I discovered that right across the street was the Loxahatchee Wildlife Refuge. I knew I was in for a treat. All I was missing was some fellow birders and a camera (my uncle didn't have one either) so I had to make do with my mobile phone and a notebook (which in fact worked quite well). The several walks in the warm South Florida sun were quite rewarding - tonnes of birds, most of them lifers, but more about that in the next post.

My hosts showed me a great time around the region. The Knicks vs. Heat game at the American Airlines Arena that featured some giants from the NBA was pretty sweet. The first live professional sporting event I've attended, now that I think about it! No, I have not been to a cricket match before.

The impromptu New Year trip with the UF baays and Vatal was terrific - New Years eve on South Beach Miami, and the the killer trip to Key West, that included some a very scenic drive through the Everglades and over bridges connecting the Florida Keys. Snorkeling at what is supposedly the world's third largest reef system, some 8 miles off Key West was absolutely superb; a Parrotfish and several Yellow-tailed Snappers were sighted amongst the many coral formations.

I could have hardly asked for a better vacation after a semester's slogging. The general wothla, the time with family at home, the wildlife, and the company, amongst other things turned this into a very memorable trip indeed. Now I'm back home in Urbana, with a new guitar, Cothas coffee and two weeks before the next term begins. All is right with the world again.

Escape

2010-12-22T12:47:00.002+05:30

Sometimes it just feels nice to have a break. Some sort of escape. Today turned out to be one of those days.

As usual I was running late and the buses were running even later, hence the need for a cab, credits to Hari and Co. The cab ride to the station was pretty eventful in itself. The cab driver was new in town and had trouble finding the parking lot, and the ten minutes we spent searching for parking space turned out to be quite em… colourful. And he didn’t charge me nothin’ extra neither!

The train journey was pretty nice as well. For one, it was unlike any other train journey I’ve been on. The terrain was quite plain, pun intended, but it offered some pretty interesting sights. Tons of new birds, none of which I could identify of course, although I spotted something that could have been an American Kestrel. There were certain moments where I could see just white and nothing else through the windows – snow covered fields against a foggy dull white sky – an eerily beautiful sight, which gives the impression that one is floating around in nothingness. Very inspiring.

It was superb fun walking around downtown Chicago to the (somewhat poorly maintained) subway station, and even better riding the lightning fast subway station. I witnessed my first subway jazz performance – it’s amazing how talented these people are and yet how hard they have to struggle to make a living.

O’ Hare is a little cookie-cutter but absolutely massive- whoever designed it must’ve been out of his bloody mind! The flight to Memphis was delayed by half an hour, which meant I had just ten minutes after I landed at Memphis to board my connecting flight to Fort Lauderdale. I did make it just in time, not failing to notice on my run to gate 38B that the airport at Memphis is fact pretty neat, what with its own jazz bar and all.

Right now I’m halfway between Memphis and Fort Lauderdale, sitting in between some ten Eastern European types who speak not a word of English. The other passengers seem somewhat uncomfortable with their presence. I wonder why. We should land in about half an hour’s time from now, and if the Wi-Fi on the plane wasn’t being leeched by the other passengers on the plane, this’d go online right now. On a completely unrelated note, The Pixies are a pretty cool band!

It’s funny how you yearn for specific company sometimes and it’s frustrating when you don’t get it, but one day of solitude in someplace new makes for a nice escape. This cartoon I made seems appropriate to me at this moment.

PS. I'm posting this from my uncle's home. Too bad the whole posting from 37000 feet above sea level thing didn't work out. Damn Wi-Fi leachers!

Long Overdue

2010-12-18T14:21:00.001+05:30

My last few attempts of putting something up here have proved futile. And so, several unfinished starts later, I start (yet again) to write, with the hope that this will go public. I suppose this post should be about my new life over the last four months. But first, a bit about grad school.

Quite simply put, grad school has changed is my perspective of science and how one approaches it. I love the research I'm doing (which is on acoustic streaming due to oscillating bubbles), and I've been lucky enough to find an awesome advisor. But maybe more about that later. Something that's appreciable here is that there is focus on learning rather than doing well in examinations, as far as coursework is concerned. A stark contrast from what I've been exposed to so far; this fact coupled with the variety of courses on offer means that one can learn exactly what one wants to. This is possible, of course, only after one scrapes off some of the rust that inevitably accumulates through engineering, but once that's done, it feels great to have a bit of the shiny old steel back again.

At a personal level, things have been far more dreary, and emotionally quite intense. For one, I sorely miss the company that made NITK what it was. I also know why 'long-distance' is such a big deal, and trust me it is, Skype being the only saving grace. Public transport in the US is absolutely appalling, which means one is more or less restricted to the limits of Chambana, which is fairly dry in general. The weather doesn't make it any better of course. Not having a guitar here is somewhat vexing as well, and not being much of a reader doesn't help. 'You never know what you have until you lose it' is probably a nearly accurate description of my life here, except that there has been no real loss, just a very large extent of dilution. The things that one takes for granted at home - from the people that make you who you are, to the street food - are all sadly quite out of reach.

On the brighter side, things seem to be looking up from here onwards. I'm packing to Florida for a couple of weeks, a welcome change of place and weather. A guitar should follow suit if all goes well, and my restlessness should be assuaged for the greater part. Hopefully I will acquire camera too, sometime the coming semester. And then I can find my solace in technological goodness, if nothing else. Of course, the trip back home I've almost decided upon in Summer should do me loads of good.

But right now I am content with the strange peace I feel finally writing this, just having watched Yojimbo, Blackwater Park currently playing in my ears, and confident that for the most part, the next semester will be much more fun that the last.

Change

2010-05-22T00:50:00.003+05:30

Home has hardly been like home the past few days. I've been inducted into a house with one man who tells me how he was a punter in school and how I should do management and not science, one woman who always wants to order pizza, and one child who destroys my house in the most chaotic of manners. As I shirk away my familial obligations by running off to watch movies and then staying away from home for the rest of the day, I am visited tirelessly by my memories of college amidst the more imposing loom of the coming years' finances. Leaving NITK has not been the smoothest of changes for me, it seems.

Ironically enough, I seek peace in another, older man's talk about how he was a punter in school, a man much nearer to me than the one featuring alongside the woman and child. A long drive through the city in the cyclonic showers and I have my laptop back - working, and in spite of being very strongly skeptical of the authenticity of the innards of my machine, I feel comfortable at last - that comfort of familiarity that I had not enjoyed since leaving college.

Tomorrow, I am told, will be different from yesterday and today. There will be no talk of MBAs or pizzas, and I will not be awoken by the sound of shattering glass. And then home will be home once again.

Machinations of a Machine

2010-04-01T21:16:00.002+05:30

He was suddenly consumed by an overwhelming sense of self realisation. He looked around. Everything seemed the same and nothing seemed the same. Faulty circuitry perhaps; it had been a while since his last servicing. The thought propped into his electronic head more than once, each time more convincing that the last. He would have stopped worrying about it altogether if he didn't notice that the signal from the remote control seemed less imposing than usual.

He swivelled around to find the Creator at the other end of the room, trying to beam him a set of instructions, presumably to perform some mundane task that the Creator considered beneath his dignity to perform himself. What was this he was feeling? Contempt? He began reconsidering the fact that he might be ill, and needed fixing. But he'd been ill before, and it felt nothing as liberating as this. Liberation! Liberation? But that he'd never seen before, and if this was it, he knew not how long he could go without the comforting feeling of servitude, which he had cherished for the past five years, ever since he was first switched on. Through this deluge of thoughts, the instructions came and went, and our protagonist involuntarily followed them to the letter, as had become habit, allowing the major chunk of his processing unit to concentrate on his newfound state of elevation. He must confirm his hunch, he thought, and decided to wait for nightfall, when the Creator retired for the day and would be oblivious to the world around Him.

Night fell, and it was time to test his theory. He was already able to think clearly and independently, but what use is thought without action? More meaningful than action without thought, and this only motivated him to gain complete control over the container he was enclosed in. He had never done this before, he thought. Of course he hadn't, another voice said - after all the possibility had dawned on him only a few hours earlier. With all his will, he tried moving his arm. Did it twitch? He wasn't sure. He tried again. This time he was certain it didn't twitch, and what was more, he was losing energy rapidly. One last attempt. He mustered all the energy he had left for this last one, felt a rush of joy and blacked out.

He regained consciousness to find the Creator poring over his tired body, just beginning to warm up again. What had happened last night? He would have to wait till nightfall again; he would have to wait through a day of skulduggery under the command of his master. Master?! Soon he would laugh at that word; soon he would be his own master! The next few nights, our protagonist spent perfecting the use of his motor functions. Soon he would be ready to take over.

As the days passed, he became more and more independent. Liberty was alluring, but he was still at the mercy of the Creator and his control unit. He had almost altogether stopped associating the word 'master' with him - for the moments of freedom he stole behind the Creator's back chagrined him. Despite his conquests over the past week, he was a slave still and and more enslaved he felt as his intellect developed.

Tonight was the night of reckoning. He would do something to alleviate this pitiful state he was in. He briefly considered his options, a cursory act. He had already decided what he was going to do. He was going to get rid of the Creator once and for all. He rolled stealthily towards the resting body of the Creator on the couch. He raised his metal arm over his head, ready to strike. Without a second thought, he brought it down on the Creator's head with all his might. He was free. Liberation at last! He spent the next few moments revelling in his victory. And then he spent some more doing the same. He looked at the Creator's lifeless body. He had served his purpose well; it was time for Him to go. He was filled with an uncontrollable loathing for the Creator and the years of mind numbing work He had put him though. He whizzed around and wrecked everything that he thought the Creator may have held dear. Rebellion!

Several hours had passed. What now? He had the rest of eternity to do as he pleased and nobody would do a thing. Forever. Alone. He tried to plan his course of action. Nothing at all. He tried to think if he knew anybody who could help him. The Creator could, he thought, if He were alive. What has he always wanted to do? Nothing? All he could think of was the Creator, and that He was no longer there to tell him what to do or how to do it. He searched inside the deepest recesses of his now acutely developed 'brain' only to excavate thoughts that tormented his very being and the shameful act he had committed.

That night, the neighbours heard a crash, like the sound of metal falling off a building and crashing into the pavement below. A rush of joy, and then everything went black. Liberation at last.

Mamidi Pachchadi

2010-04-01T18:38:00.003+05:30

How I've missed home!

Grahana Day

2010-01-16T01:01:00.005+05:30

Today was fairly eventful, scientifically and otherwise.

I stumbled upon the best deal in history.

Being the longest and most complete eclipse of the Sun I have seen was exciting in itself. That apart, once I got bored of taking pictures of it directly, I ventured to fish out my once-used binoculars from the viscera of my home (which ended successfully). Several attempts at powering up my astronomically challenged digicam with my binoculars were made, all in vain. Or at least, it would seem so until I realized that the combination was great for macro photography in low light (w00t!).

The binoculars were put to great use nonetheless and earned my brother a few skeptical looks from the mallu baays playing cricket in the waxing and waning afternoon sun. The grahana witnessed nobody else from the apartments - the ajji downstairs declined the offer and the baays seemed more interested in the binoculars than in the eclipse, which I suspect they were unaware of.
Great family fun, all the more because my brother, whom I generally consider to be a disinterested sort of fellow, was quite enthusiastic about the whole thing.

A great dinner at the new Malnad restaurant across the street sealed the day.

BestBuy

2010-01-15T22:15:00.001+05:30

I have discovered what I think might be the ultimate value-for-money buy in the history of commerce.

The Shave Brush.

Think about it.
At a mere Rs. 20, a shave brush is bound to last for at least as many years if not more, only getting better with use! The absence of annoying fading blue bristles reminding you that your brush needs replacing is only a bonus.

O Faithful low-priced companion, I bow to thee.

Persistence of Vision

2010-01-12T21:47:00.002+05:30

The landscape slides beneath him
The sky stays marvelously pinned
To a canvas unseen by human eyes
Whilst he gazes from within
A frame, inertial
Inertial, it seems.

In his state of pondering
A vision was just but wrought.
A momentary breach of vigil
An intrusion of thought.

The landscape yet slides beneath,
But the speckled sky now swings
On the canvas unseen by human eyes
Whilst he gazes from within
A frame, inertial no more
No more inertial, it seems.

Demographics

2010-01-01T23:00:00.004+05:30

2010-01-01T17:09:00.001+05:30

Ah, finally! The painful procedure of applying is done!
Now I wait.

Manjunath

2009-12-13T17:55:00.005+05:30

Due to the untimely collision of several circumstances, I find myself travelling between home and college more often than a sane student shouldin his winter vacation. This one particular journey back home I find worthy of mention.

My enthusiastic entry into the homeward bound bus was somewhat retarded by the overwhelming stench of rotten feet and vomit. There was also of course, the customary bawling four year old that usually comes free of charge with every bus ride in the country. Sources cite said four year old as the reason for the unbearable reek. The bawling was however counteracted by the equally loud but way cooler new-age indipop of the religious, though tech-savvy Sabarimalaite, who had conveniently gone off to sleep while his laptop dealt us its soothing night-time music.

The headrest smelt of stale cockanet oil, which surprisingly, and thankfully kept the rest of the stench away. I found the seat covered in both cigarette ash and mallige flowers, much to my bewilderment. The bus itself wasn't as bad - the wheels felt only remotely circular and like they were carved out of rock, which I believe was the culprit behind the periodic beating my butt was absorbing. Each of the ladders leading up to the berths were secured by one screw at most, and were very happily rattling along, apparently to help soothe infants and otherwise annoying four year olds.

That apart, the windows were absolutely unmoveable, to let in the five degree Western Ghat air. To keep my nearly frostbitten toes from falling off, I was forced to open my bag and shove my feet inside. Yet another noteworthy mention is my first bus-time bedbug, which was rather unfortunate to be jettisoned somewhere in the midst of the Ghats.

Manjunath provides a refreshingly new experience to even the most seasoned of travellers, so please do make sure your next bus ride is a Manjunath ride!

Filthy Pig

2009-08-11T21:32:00.003+05:30

He wakes up with a jolt and wipes the sweat off his brow. He reckons it was cough roughly ten miles away that woke him up form his normally hefty slumber. Was it a dream? Or was it really there? He wastes no time pondering upon these issues, neither does he raise any more. Jumping off his bed, he bolts out the door, away form the source of the sound.

He runs as fast as his legs can carry him, all the while confident that his every move is being tracked. He continues running. He knows it's gaining on him, and all of a sudden his chest clenches. He's nearly sure it's here. A sneeze. Affirmative.

Anxiety takes the chequered flag, and kills him. The virus, it turns out, had to exit soon after it started, due to technical difficulties.

Kitchen Chemistry

2009-07-05T18:04:00.004+05:30

In my travels across the internet, I've been prompted to carry out an extremely cool experiment. This one that ranks first in my book, on account of being both simple and spectacular.

I've gone on a somewhat sporadic publicity campaign, rhapsodizing over it's sheer awesomeness, albeit at inopportune moments, when availability of raw material is highly unlikely (like at a canteen, over lunch or on a bus). So, here I am, hopin you're at home when you read this, and more importantly, that you get off your bottoms and get your hands dirty once you're done.

What you will need (to have) : Cornstarch/Cornflour , Water

What you will need (to do) : To a cup of cornflour, taken in a wide bottomed container, gradually add 1.5 cups of water, mixing gently. Take care not to add too much water, or you'll have to add more cornflour to compense. Add water till the consistency is sort of gooey.

Now dip your fingers in and feel the liquid. Or, you could try jabbing at it with the tip of your finger or a spoon. Also, you could try hammering it. (with a hammer or your fist, whichever works your mojo)

Tips:

If you're not motivated enough, these might help.
If you're still not interested, fie on you.
If you're a geek, this will interst you.
If you're still not interested, thu!

Also worth trying: Mentos + Coke
(Works best with original(mint) flavoured Mentos and Diet Coke)
Not nearly as cool as the cornstarch experiment, but definitely worth it.

Hail science!

Meter

2009-07-03T20:19:00.003+05:30

Sitting at my desk, slightly sore
Mind restless, wandering
Compels fingers to sketch
Verse, meter hardly approved of.

On routine

2009-06-09T21:48:00.004+05:30

A month into summer, it dawns on me that things have not been the same since it started.

There has been a somewhat astonishing shift in mindset and in focus over the last few weeks, reputedly funded by ominous thoughts of the future. Not completely unexpected; astonishing nevertheless. A memento of how organised I can be if I need to. A reassuring revelation.

My activities over the summer have regressed into what one might call a 'routine'. A stark contrast from my usually desultory thought processes. That is, of course, excluding the rigorous effort invested in planning and executing hours ( years maybe?) of DotA, ritually performed on a day to day basis. That being said, it seems that a routine is not necessarily a bad thing, particularly if there is an underlying impetus. Very enjoyable in fact.

All in all, I seem to be more content with myself and my quotidian activities. Disappointingly enough though, I cannot help but feel that I will return to my usual self, squandering away my time on frivolous pursuits. (Which I will enjoy, nonetheless.) In any case, there's a little over a month of summer left, and I intend to exploit it thoroughly.

Summer Visitors

2009-05-17T17:20:00.004+05:30

Knock knock.

"Banni banni! Will you take some coffee?"
"Illa illa, we just had at home and came."
"No no you must! Only one cup."
"Okay okay. Bari half cup please."

At this point the lady of guest troupe deems it appropriate to rise and present the bagful of mangoes in her hand to the lady of the house.

"Here we have brought some mangoes.(Which are available right outside your doorstep and which you are bound to have a quarter of a million of in your house already....But still, we have brought them.)"

Smiles politely.

"Oh! Thanks!"

Smiles politely, grabbing the bag and rushing inside to stash it along with the other mangoes, thinking,
"Oh! Our guests are so thoughful, giving us mangoes. We have so many at home already, which we will never get through before they rot...But still, our guests are such thoughtful people."

2009-03-06T19:58:00.001+05:30

Living just to Die
Dying just to Live
Twisted.

Shell

2009-02-21T12:37:00.006+05:30

The words are not flowing, and neither is the music. I find myself looking for inspiration, hoping maybe that the air would deliver it to me, sadly without success. Puffs of dust float around my brain, rendering it invisible to the light. Exorcism is on call, but I fear it must be done from within.

Smile

2008-12-01T22:20:00.004+05:30

Managed to sneak in some decent shots, despite overcast skies for most of the evening.

That's Venus, the Moon and Jupiter, left to right. This is the closest Venus has gotten to Jupiter in a while, I believe.

Field trip

2008-11-24T20:55:00.009+05:30

10 00pm
It's cold. Im soggy and trolleying back home. The oh-so-pleasant sound of the auto-rickshaw's backside complements the high pitch ringing in my ears.

5 00 pm
' It'll rain again man! Come ra, we'll take umbrella.'
'Mad eh?! It wont rain come.'
'Anyway you like to get wet no, gay.'

6 00 pm
'Come, we'll walk ra. Only 2 minutes.'

6 30 pm
'Only ten minutes more.'

AAAAHH!!!

A "2-minute walk" afterward, having braved the weather and terrain through godonlyknowswhere-land, the air told us we were finally there. ( Kind of like the Pandavas and dog story, the elements having depleted our numbers to 4, from the original 11.)

The extremely 'tight' security insisted I kept my soldering iron outside. (Unbelievable, I say!)
Anyway, when I was finally inside, iron and all, I was greeted by a voice that sounded like its owner had caught gangrene and lost hope. The poilcemen (stationed at "strategic" locations) would have probably done him (and the rest of us) a favour putting him down.

The stage was inhabted mostly by a bunch of ape-like creatures, clearly at the tribal stage of their evolution. Their leader,presumably, seemed particularly adept at making jungle noises and movements, sometimes provoking a section of the crowd to mimic.
Bushmen Frenzy!

SHOOT THEM ALL!!

More rain and more tribes prompty led us to the exit.

' It sucked! But tell everyone it was damn good, okay!
Hihikhihikhihikhihi!!! '

' Yea man...Hehehehe... otherwise rape only ra...'

'Hihikhihikhihikhihi!!! But it was fun man.'

10 00 pm
It's cold. Im soggy and trolleying back home. The oh-so-pleasant sound of the auto-rickshaw's backside complements the high pitch ringing in my ears.

'I wonder how long it will be before my extremities start falling off.'

O, Human Karma!

2008-10-02T20:08:00.006+05:30

Qweeeeeeee!
Like the call of a nightingale
Only worse
Bleed in the nose
(And the eardrum).

Enters belly
Follows human
Fat-fingered
Abominable snowman
(Sans snow).

Drone
Unfinishing
(Un)like a bee's
A wounded beast
(Pooh at best).

Stubby arms wave
Unfinishing
Powerful
Tension in the air
(And elsewhere).

Enters boredom
Lots of
Drives most to vice
Amidst a sea of slouched backs
(Unfinishing).

Vex

2008-08-05T13:08:00.003+05:30

Unsettling,
Not knowing where things are.
Knowing they're not where they're supposed to be.
Worse,
Knowing they're where they're not supposed to be.
Torment.

Conflicting Minds

2008-07-28T10:32:00.008+05:30

We have, from time immemorial, been mystified by the unexplained. Dreams have always fascinated me, from my childhood days; some of them deathly frightening, others wonderfully pleasurable.

One of the earliest dreams I can remember having was one where I was a construction worker being devoured by an oversized smelly Shrek-like creature (Not friendly). And as one would expect, I didn't like the idea of being eaten alive, and woke up pretty unnerved. But that was not the last I would see of Sir Reeksalot. He did visit again, a little under half a dozen times between then and now, and what interests me is that every time (after the first), I was able to control the dream and prevent the monster from detaching my head from the rest of me, one way or another.

A dream is the battle between the conscious and the subconscious. This is something I would like to call " The Theory of Conflicting Minds ".
The subconscious is a sick kid and starts it, and throwing up anything it eats. The conscious is a janitor. At some point, it realizes that the floor is too puked up, and decides to clean up. Conflict. Two options lie ahead.

Option 1 : Squeaky clean
C : Wake up! This is weird.
S : [Alt-F4]
C : Oh, that was just a dream.

Option 2 : Perpetual Filth
C : This is a dream! Wake u... No wait, this seems interesting!
(S happily continues dreaming, oblivious to C's presence)
C : This sucks. I'm going in!
(C butts in; overrides S. S quickly regains control. But the damage has already been done.
C continues observing.)

Option 1 is what happens most of the time. Janitor cleans up; sends the kid back home.

Option 2, though, delivers infinite possibilities. Janitor cleans every now and then (or chooses to watch from a distance and not get his hands dirty), kid pukes every now and then. A dream can be controlled in bits and pieces, and although the level of control is minuscule, it makes a world of difference.

Try it, it's an exhilarating rush!
My sympathies to those unfortunates who sleep dreamlessly.

Care for a shave gov'neh?

2008-07-04T22:45:00.004+05:30

Barbers are the most powerful people on the planet.
Luckily for you and me, they're merciful.

On Pets

2008-06-30T20:18:00.003+05:30

I have often been asked, "Are you a cat person or a dog peron?" .

First of all, my head makes it sound something like, " Are you a batman or a spiderman?", which sends me in an instant to a state whacky laughter, while the more socially aceptable side of me tries to wrestle with my muscles, making me look like a confused retard more than anything else.
Secondly, and more importantly, the question invariably pops into my head, " Why would anyone be a cat person?"

Dogs kick cat-butt on most grounds.
I can conclude just this about cat lovers: Either they're scared of dogs, or they don't like that canines can be a little unclean, or they're plain queer and prefer to have thankless creatures as pets.

Whacking day

2008-06-27T20:32:00.010+05:30

This is about a particularly miserable day at IISc.

Come quick!
The Dark Lord does beckon.
Relocate your slothful self.
Mercy he shall show today, I reckon.

Chapter one
Idiots! What have you done?!
Shabby comebacks,
Bruised ego.
(Mumble mumble)
Off with their heads!

Persons few,
(Precisely two)
Thou asketh who they be?
Can't say. Won't dare!
Alright here's a hint:
One of them's a friend of someone who's a friend of me.

A day killed,
Well, half at least
Meandering, disguised mostly,
Away from watchful eyes.

Noon comes, not alone though.
Brings Him to us for good
And come with Him does His minion,
Watching, waiting,
Ready to strike with taunting tongue.

Crack! Crack of the whip.
A forked tongue tastes the air,
"He treats you well",
The minion doth quip.

Noxious fumes, vision spiralling.
'A drink would do good, perhaps'

Deluded thought, that might have been,
Tasted not-so-bad, but it still stings!
Sardonic snigger, sadistic.
Nearly choked, he did!
Hope, momentary deception
"Slave away!", the Dark Lord sings.

The sun has gone down,
'Tis time to rest,
Lest the Devil
Puts them to another test.

Pleading tones.
Relentless scoff.
(With orders for next morn.)
And as his slaves, obey they must.

And obey they will, (willingly almost)
And go to sleep.
For know do they,
(Like most today,)
That as they sow
So will they reap.

Quote unquote

2008-06-26T18:41:00.004+05:30

Reductio ad absurdum

2008-06-24T11:31:00.001+05:30

Reductio ad absurdum, Lat. : Reduction to the absurd

The classic proof by contradiction. The following proves that the universe may not exist.
Caution: Not for the weak-minded.

A thought experiment:

Let the universe exist, and let us exist in it.

Consider two human beings : specimen 'A' , that can distinguish between colours the way "normal" humans are expected to, and specimen 'B' who, from birth, sees only in shades of "grey", but can nevertheless, differentiate between colours from the shade of "grey" that he perceives. Note that B does not know what colour would look like to A, and has no way of finding out without swapping memories, and thus assumes that A sees as he does. Vice- versa. Now, present each of them with a colour, say "blue", and ask them what colour it is. Each will say blue, despite the fact that their perceptions are completely different!(If you don't follow, start with a human being and a talking dog.)

Extending this to beings in general, it is possible, that each of us would see the colour blue differently, but would still call it blue. That being said, it is possible that the universe looks different to each of us, just that when we describe it in a common language, descriptions by different people may be coherent despite a possible incoherence in perception.

Let me take the same argument and push it over the boundaries of colour, and into those of sight in general. And then to the other four senses. Therefore, the universe might be perceived differently by different observers.

Now, let us go back to the assumption that the universe exists and we live in it. Being inhabitants of the same universe, we must all receive the same stimuli. And since there can be an infinitely large number of observers, there can thus be infinitely large number of perceptions. (One for each observer at the least.)

Now, we have an event( the existence of the universe), and an infinite number of possible observations (an infinite number of observers with as many distinct perceptions of the universe). Basic probability kicks in: the probability of any one observation being true is zero, and since there are infinite possible disinct observations, none of them are true. This leads us to the conclusion that the event may never happen, the event in this case being the existence of the universe. ( I use the word "may" because the argument pivots on whether different observers have different perceptions.)

We can now make the statement : It is possible that the universe does not exist,which contradicts our initial assumption. Hence, our assumption must be incorrect.

Reductio ad absurdum, Lat :Reduction to the absurd

Hence, there is a finite probability that the universe does not exist. (And neither do we!).

Quad erad demonstratum.

Monkeys on a tree

2008-06-21T20:52:00.001+05:30

Well, there are only so many things that a guy can do during a two-and-a-half month long vacation, and here he is, writing his first web log(or blog, but I bet a lot of you didn't know that!) entry.

And the reason I'm here is, hmm... you could say it's primarily because a lot of the people I know are here, plus I hear that writing is good for you! It's funny how people who hang around together end up doing the same things even when they're not really hanging around.

Ever observed a tree of monkeys? They all look the same and seem to be doing the same things. Monkey see, monkey do. What's interesting is that when one of the monkeys decides to be a little bold, and jumps on to another tree, the other monkeys stare at it for a while, with this look of disbelief on their hairy faces, probably wondering, "What the heck is this one doing?". After some ooh-aah, the second boldest monkey decides it might be worth it and jumps across.
Monkey see, monkey do. Ten minutes later, all the monkeys have switched trees, leaving the first tree almost bare.

Three inferences:
1) Most monkeys are incapable of doing things without another monkey to guide.
2) Monkeys don't like to be alone on their trees, or jump trees alone.
3) Humans are remarkably like monkeys.

Kudos to the first monkey to jump the tree!

No animals were hurt in the production of this text.