Friday, December 24, 2004

The Gift of The Magi

"The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi. "

The above extract is from this story by Mr. William Sidney Porter (Popularly known as O.Henry with O standing for nothing) which I read many winters back and the following sentence still sticks in my mind for some strange reason (because I havent fathomed it.)

"Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on. "

Saturday, December 18, 2004

Leave Letters In Indian English

A few months back I had a post on Indian English. This post is an addendum to that in the sense that it just extends the theory out there with respect to formal letter writing in India.

  • A candidate's application: " This has reference to your advertisement calling for a 'typist and an accountant- Male or Female'... As I am both for the past several years and I can handle both, I am applying for the post."
  • An employee applied for leave as follows: "Since I have to goto my village to sell my land along with my wife. Please sanction me one week leave"
  • Another employee applied for half day leave as follows:"Since I've to go to the cremation ground and I may not return,please grant me half day casual leave"
  • To the headmaster: "As I am studying in this school I am suffering from headache. I request you to leave me today"
  • "I am suffering from fever, please declare holiday to the school"
  • "As my headache is paining, please grant me leave for the day"
  • A cover note:- "I am enclosed herewith..."
  • Another leave letter written to Administration dept: "As mymother-in-law has expired and I am responsible for it, please grant me 10 days leave."
  • Actual letter written for application of leave: "My wife is suffering from sickness and as I am her only husband at home I may be granted leave"
  • Letter writing: - "I am in well here and hope you are also in the same well."

I would also recommend the forewarned reader to peruse a Must Read blogpost by Priyanka.

Friday, December 17, 2004

The Solution

The Solution, so it seems, is Contentment. Being Content with what you have instead of wondering if you deserve better. Well.It will take a lot of time to figure out what the problem is.

In the past few weeks I have been trying to discern a pattern in all those around working around me.The problem was it seemed that everbody seems happy around while I was not.The final delta (read difference) between me and them was that these guys carried a sense of permenance and a sense of status quo.For me I always had this nomadic sense of wandering constantly bothering me and the tendency to rock the boat was not helping me cause either. People seemed to settle down in their molds pretty comfortably with some assurance that things are going to be the safe and stable if they stick to their guns.

This epiphany struck me when I was reading an email today. The exact words were that I have written sometime back in my treatment of Class 4 types which were boomeranged on me "you know this feeling won't last". That exactly seems to be the one causing the issues I have had lately. People need something to cling on , something to be true in the ever changing world, something comforting, something to lean on, something dependable like a rock and so on..Hmm. This episode reminded me of the story in "A Bug's Life" where the protagonist is Flik , a misfit ant whose sole desire in life is "to make a difference". In the climax when he loses steam and about to give up the two bird characters whom he inspired, come back with his own lines to rejuvenate him.I feel that kind of a sudden sense of liberty. YoooHooo.. I am back( In the Voice of Schwarznegger). A typical repartee to that from my co-worker is that "Okay, I will be Beethoven" ..Go figure

Coming to other things, I love Christmas lucheons and dinners. Free as in Beer and Food. I checked out some nice food and had fish like Mahi Mahi, Tilapia and even an exotic dish that served an oxtail marinated in walnut sauces. I did throw one at a new resutaurant serving Cocina Mexicana.Awesome.The restaurant was called "Oyamel", named for a tree in Mexico where Monarch butterflies land amidst their lengthy migration. They had a nice suspension of plastic butterflies in the middle of hall creating that illusion.Everything is like an appetizer out there.Enjoyed it so much that I went for lunch out there today..Of course there is only so much to be said for Taste and Appetite.

Saturday, December 11, 2004

A Nice Cup of Tea

George Orwell in 1946 wrote this article bringing his charcterstic style on the art of brewing a proper cup of tea.

  • First of all, one should use Indian or Ceylonese tea. China tea has virtues which are not to be despised nowadays—it is economical, and one can drink it without milk—but there is not much stimulation in it. One does not feel wiser, braver or more optimistic after drinking it. Anyone who has used that comforting phrase ‘a nice cup of tea’ invariably means Indian tea.
  • Secondly, tea should be made in small quantities—that is, in a teapot. Tea out of an urn is always tasteless, while army tea, made in a cauldron, tastes of grease and whitewash. The teapot should be made of china or earthenware. Silver or Britanniaware teapots produce inferior tea and enamel pots are worse; though curiously enough a pewter teapot (a rarity nowadays) is not so bad.
  • Thirdly, the pot should be warmed beforehand. This is better done by placing it on the hob than by the usual method of swilling it out with hot water.
  • Fourthly, the tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right. In a time of rationing, this is not an idea that can be realized on every day of the week, but I maintain that one strong cup of tea is better than twenty weak ones. All true tea lovers not only like their tea strong, but like it a little stronger with each year that passes—a fact which is recognized in the extra ration issued to old-age pensioners.
  • Fifthly, the tea should be put straight into the pot. No strainers, muslin bags or other devices to imprison the tea. In some countries teapots are fitted with little dangling baskets under the spout to catch the stray leaves, which are supposed to be harmful. Actually one can swallow tea-leaves in considerable quantities without ill effect, and if the tea is not loose in the pot it never infuses properly.
  • Sixthly, one should take the teapot to the kettle and not the other way about. The water should be actually boiling at the moment of impact, which means that one should keep it on the flame while one pours. Some people add that one should only use water that has been freshly brought to the boil, but I have never noticed that it makes any difference.
  • Seventhly, after making the tea, one should stir it, or better, give the pot a good shake, afterwards allowing the leaves to settle.
  • Eighthly, one should drink out of a good breakfast cup—that is, the cylindrical type of cup, not the flat, shallow type. The breakfast cup holds more, and with the other kind one’s tea is always half cold—before one has well started on it.
  • Ninthly, one should pour the cream off the milk before using it for tea. Milk that is too creamy always gives tea a sickly taste.
  • Tenthly, one should pour tea into the cup first. This is one of the most controversial points of all; indeed in every family in Britain there are probably two schools of thought on the subject. The milk-first school can bring forward some fairly strong arguments, but I maintain that my own argument is unanswerable. This is that, by putting the tea in first and stirring as one pours, one can exactly regulate the amount of milk whereas one is liable to put in too much milk if one does it the other way round.
  • Lastly, tea—unless one is drinking it in the Russian style—should be drunk without sugar. I know very well that I am in a minority here. But still, how can you call yourself a true tea-lover if you destroy the flavour of your tea by putting sugar in it? It would be equally reasonable to put in pepper or salt. Tea is meant to be bitter, just as beer is meant to be bitter. If you sweeten it, you are no longer tasting the tea, you are merely tasting the sugar; you could make a very similar drink by dissolving sugar in plain hot water.

My own addition to this list is having a English Marie Biscuit would occasionally heighten the effect of the consumption (particularly when watching sunsets!). I just did that yesterday after ordering a fine Darjeeling Tea from Harney and Sons .

ps : I apply the last rule of Orwell's to Coffee rather than "Tea" thus earning me the title of a "Coffee Purist" at my workplace.

Friday, December 10, 2004

Up Close & Personal

Inebriated, I ask myself these questions (lagers have a different effect than pilsners) :

Is there an intimacy possible that is bottomless where no matter how closer you get there is still a distance that could be covered by coming much close(much like the asymptotes of a hyperbola) ?

Could there be someone who will be your army, your war and your favorite enemy all at the same time?

Thursday, December 09, 2004

Smooth Between Sea and Land

Smooth between sea and land
Is laid the yellow sand,
And here through summer days
The seed of Adam plays.

Here the child comes to found
His unremaining mound,
And the grown lad to score
Two names upon the shore.

Here, on the level sand,
Between the sea and land,
What shall I build or write
Against the fall of night?

Tell me of runes to grave
That hold the bursting wave,
Or bastions to design
For longer date than mine.

Shall it be Troy or Rome
I fence against the foam
Or my own name, to stay
When I depart for aye?

Nothing: too near at hand
Planing the figured sand,
Effacing clean and fast
Cities not built to last
And charms devised in vain,
Pours the confounding main.

by A. E. Housman

Simple yet the "ambition" sneaks through in every line..
Math seems to be the only way for immortality!

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Spirituality, Bonding and Fishing

I finished watching this Rober Redford movie "A River Runs Through It" yesterday. This is the screen adaptation of the Novel by Norman MaClean. It's set in Montana and the fly fishing shots were exceptional.Its a story of quite a dysfunctional family but most appealing part was the bond that existed between Norman's (Craig Sheffer) and Paul (Brad Pitt) . It focuses on efforts of the elder brother trying to understand his younger brother and his attempts to get the young one off certain tendencies.If you like Brad Pitt, I can tell you that this is one amazingly powerful role that he pulled off.I am not a great fan of his but this one certainly will be on the top of his movies.

Watching this kind of movie in Solitude does compel you to relate some of the quotes used by the narrator.For example Norman's Fiance quotes the following about her brother :
"Why is it the people who need the most help... won't take it?"..Just in case that whets your appetite you can read more click here.

I was wondering about how good do I understand my own folks. In the last few years I have not quite been out in touch as much as I would like.Its almost a fashion to say that you dont have time.If a person is really intent on something I am positive that he'll do something about it instead of taking the easy way out of saying "I dont have time." Genuinely sometimes its not possible but more often than not its used as an excuse.

It was my sister's birthday today, so I called her up when she was out dining with my BIL.I used to call The Pearl Harbor an international disaster and my sisters' birth a national one.Gosh! I dont even know what to talk to her after the usual inanities like "Happy Birthday", "Howz your kid doing?", etc., Same with my BIL enquiring about his well-being. Its like I dont even know what her dreams are these days.Gone are the days when we were kids absolutely detesting each other's presence, and spent most of the time fighting (Oh those pillow fights!), verbally abusing each other(of course I taught her some four letter words to use against some of her classmates) and trying to hide each other things just to irritate. Of course if confronted with an external party then we would join forces to combat them but internally we used to be so interesting because we both were very different.

The same with my brother. He was a far tougher guy than me in school/street fighting.His head thinks much more on the practical lines than mine I remember him drawing some strength from some external force as if nothing in this world could shake him. His apparent coolness-of-a-british-officer-in-a-war look made me look neurotic Its been more than 6 months, since I talked to him (thanks to email!). He used to call me "MunnaBhai" and "Topi" and some other crackerjack name he had coined.I dont know much about him anymore apart from the fact that he wanna be in the management chain rather than start as a Techie. Thats not much.

I am not really sad that this are this way but just reminiscing how things came about to be this way As I grow older I would accept that this is just the normal way of life and the chasm grows along with age but I think its worth my time wondering occasionally what the rest of the family is upto, listen to them, their stories, their dreams (if any) and wonder what its like to be living in the other person's shoes.Refreshing..

The movies ends with these lines:
"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters"

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Poet Completed

Visu tied the knot today. Pop sent me a text message assuring me that the ceremony was a grand success. I thanked Pop for attending it on my behalf and hosted a lunch for my ex-roomie's family.Quite a luncheon to celebrate his getting hitched.

I dont know how many clicked their way to this blog I have titled Poetic Incompleteness. Its author is my roomie and friend. He also maintains his pcitures at this blog called Cubic Shadow.
Since he doesnt accept comments on his sites, Please feel free(or cheap) to drop any wishes/communication as comments on this post, which you can be sure will reach him.

The reason I am publicising above is because I am pretty positive that he would be thinking "If I had a woman like this, my blogs wouldnt not have been so wistful". His wife is going to be the only star in the universe ,he has just created. I hope she will be the end of of his wandering( He was never lost just wandering). From now, if there is a tad bit sadness in his blog it will be because of the prospect of losing her and not otherwise.

I still say to myself when I am down or when being forced to listen to some pompous half-witted person "Well, I have done something that you could have never done, and that is to have colloborated with Visu on something like equal terms".

Visu, I can safely say that "It is an honor to be perceived as your equal".

Here's to You!! Cheers!

Saturday, December 04, 2004

Musings on Love

I was listening to my usual radio station and this song called "Accidentally In Love" by Counting Crows struck my fancy.It goes
So she said what's the problem baby
What's the problem I don't know
Well maybe I'm in love (love)
Think about it every time
I think about it
Can't stop thinking 'bout it
How much longer will it take to cure this
Just to cure it cause I can't ignore it if it's love (love)
Makes me wanna turn around and face me but I don't know nothing 'bout love
Come on, come on
Turn a little faster
Come on, come on
The world will follow after
Come on, come on
Cause everybody's after love ...........(X)
So I said I'm a snowball running
Running down into the spring that's coming all this love
Melting under blue skies
Belting out sunlight
Shimmering love
Well baby I surrender
To the strawberry ice cream
Never ever end of all this love
Well I didn't mean to do it
But there's no escaping your love
These lines of lightning
Mean we're never alone,
Never alone, no, no
Come on, Come on
Move a little closer
Come on, Come on
I want to hear you whisper
Come on, Come on
Settle down inside my love
Come on, come on
Jump a little higher
Come on, come on
If you feel a little lighter
Come on, come on
We were once
Upon a time in love
We're accidentally in love
Accidentally in love (x7)
I'm In Love, I'm in Love,
Accidentally (X 2)
Come on, come on
Spin a little tighter
Come on, come on
And the world's a little brighter
Come on, come on
Just get yourself inside her
Love ...I'm in love

Musing #1 : Why is that there is no other synonym that expresses something greater than "love" itself because by definition it presumes a lot of things and each experience has something distinctly different about it...Probably some one has already tried coining something new but it never stuck.

Musing #2 : Define "Love" just in case it means something different? The best I could come up with is "It is something that you cannot shut up about and something that you can speak of" but that would fit into Orwellian definition of "doublethink": "the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one's mind and accepting both of them. I will do better next time..

Friday, December 03, 2004

On The Universe of Faith and Reason

Asking anyone about the origin of the universe drops you some interesting clues about their inclinations regarding "faith" or "reasoning".The devout follower would bring in God or some equally powerful force into the equation whereas some rationalists are very comfortable with the idea that "nothing" was existing before the creation and that a random fluke event got us here.You might also find a certain species of people emphasizing the tempering of faith with reason by sayin that they accept something rather than nothing because its simpler and easier to live with .The reason for the lack of consensus is the same reason as Why everybody doesnt drive a Hyundai?

In order to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe. - Carl Sagan

The above quote is the ultimate expression of rationality methinks.I am coward posing as a coward so let me quote George Mikes on the same subject as to why it isnt so rational

"Rationalists, like Euclidean geometers, based their case on a few "self-evident truths." But Einstein convinced the world that there was no such thing as a self-evident truth. A few things were self-evident all right; but they were not true. The shortest way between two points is not the straight line; Time and Length are not absolute notions. This seemed to be the death-knell of Rationalist philosophy. If there is no self-evident truth, there is no Rationalism. But Rationalism refused to lie down and die. Luckily, Rationalism was not quite as rational as all that." --George Mikes, How To Be A Guru

Consider this historical example involving some of the finest minds. Most people have heard about the famous confusion and controversy of the discovery of Calculus between Newton and Leibniz. In his novel Candide Voltaire actually was caricaturing none other than Leibniz. Voltaire was Leibniz's opponent, and a Newton supporter. Voltaire was against one and in favor of the other, not based on an understanding of their work, but simply because Leibniz constantly mentions God, whereas Newton's work seems to fit in perfectly with an atheist, mechanistic world view. This was leading up to the French revolution, which was against the Church just as much as it was against the Monarchy. This is a prime example of preferring to believe on something very arbitrarily.

If Voltaire atcually had read Newton's private papers, he would have realised that Newton computed the age of the world based on the Bible. Whereas Leibniz was never seen in a church, and his notion of God was sophisticated and subtle. Leibniz's God was a logical necessity to provide the initial complexity to create the world and was using more or less as a placeholder.What a Bummer for him!

All this seems to lend a strong weight to Arthur Koestler's opening lines in The God That Failed (For the Record ' The God ' in the title is a reference to Communist Party)

"A faith is not acquired by reasoning. One does not fall in love with a woman, or enter the womb of a church, as a result of logical persuasion. Reason may defend an act of faith—but only after the act has been committed, and the man committed to the act."

Do you find a lot of times we do some things for no reason that saves us in the end and sometime the best laid plans(all logical and well reasoned) go awry.

All I can say is that once again I will take refuge in George Mike
"Confusion and contradiction have always served humanity better than clear, cold logic."

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Home Alone

I am Home Alone and I am loving it. Its quite a nice break to be left to yourself.First off my productivity at work increased.Quite a good thing to do occasionally.(The inertia lies in starting the damn editor/browser/shell and boom!).I finally yanked out some time for catching up with my final exam and have some nice idea for the class project due on the 15th.

That being said when I usually come home, my roomie and me try spending the time at the driving range,tennis court, pool table or TT depending on the season of the year. Now That's something I miss because its kind of convoluted process to find another sports enthusiast. The time usually spent in chatting up is now used for reading books like Guns,Germs and Steel. There is a great pleasure in cooking while listening to the radio with no interruption.You can surprise your co-workers by sending some additional stuff at Midnight making you seem work hard(while the reality is that you are hardly working!).

Then its time to catch up on your long awaited list of movies.Yesterday I watched Hero (Chinese Movie). It has some Zen-like philosophy and some excellent screenplay.Presented by none other than Quentin Tarantino.Today I watched The Legend Of Suriyothai(Thai Movie) presented by Francis Ford Coppola.There's something to be said for watching a movie in a language you dont understand. Occasionally I tried to turn the subtitles off just to see how much meaning could be grasped in the native version.In fact the Thai movie can easily be related by any avid Indian movie buff.

Its just been two days, so let me see how this goes for a fortnight. In a fortnight lets see what all could be accomplished :
(a) Finsh the semester with flying colors
(b) Be the "Golden Boy"
(c) I will move into a new office space with modular furniture and no one to snoop around.
(d) My roomie will be married and hence will move into a new apartment
(e) Take some time in Solitude to hear myself again and think where I wanna go to next year

Sheesh! Thats quite a list to prove in a matter of fortnight but what life is worth living without atleast one unreachable target...

Tuesday, November 30, 2004


I am Janus-Headed,
One looking forward to hope and excitement.
whilst the other awaits the fall of the sparrow
Often trapped in between
'cos neither scylla or charybdis looks appealing

My moods are somewhat colored
with the light and the contrast
alas! but limited to graytones
Like Atlas I carry both worlds unceasingly
I feel blank without either

I can only wait smelling time
for both the putrid and fragrant wafts of it
delicately intertwined in a helix
For without the distance of it ,I would not run

I do not expect to outrun
I hope not to fade
I just wish for more...

- One of my near random acts of posting insane and irrelevant stuff caught by my vague sensory apparatus and amplified by something else..

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Street Poet's Composition

Daydream, delusion, limousine, eyelash
Oh baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet-cakes and milkshakes
I'm delusion angel
I'm fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don't want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we're going
Latched in life
Like branches in a river
Flowing downstream
Caught in the current
I'll carry you
You'll carry me
That's how it could be
Don't you know me?
Don't you know me by now?

- Street Poet, Before Sunrise

Saturday, November 27, 2004

Best Wishes..Gutthi

Today one of my bosom friends is entering wedlock. Too bad I cant make home and say "Should I lock this answer to your life?". An intro to the kind of the bond we had would be something on the lines of "Toy Story" . He had all the characterstics of "Buzz Lightyear" when I first met him.
I mean his motto in life seemed nicely to align with "To Infnity and Beyond" cry of Buzz. A loose modeling of mine could be based on Woody's character who is a cowboy and seems he is a star in his own universe till Buzz comes along..Watch the movie for more details. I would like to jot down a few in these memoir( atleast the non-damaging ones)

His fascination for Cars was astounding. You walkin to a book shop and lets say you are viewing some eye-candy thats usually grabs your attention but this guy is hooked watching some new model/make of a car thats displayed in the remote corner of the stand. That apart he recently acquired this gift for "self-deprecation". I guess he still holds the record for my longest duration of a call to India (Average is arond 45 minutes - 1 hour). Has a keen sense of wordplay. He chose to remain back home and do something rather than arrive in the US for Masters as most of my other friends did. I liked the time when I could call on him and give him a 'sleepless night' just simply by describing some "driving" opportunities out here. Not any more. As he says "mera number aayega" and I guess he dreams of driving a Merc by the time he is 35.

The next thing anybody observed in him was that his "style". He is used to carrying a certain lifestyle around with him even in some godforsaken places like Karwar, Karnataka( where he had to execute a project) A very particular man about the brand and quality of stuff usually most guys dont care about. On the whole he used define "coolness" for the rest of us.

I guess he also has the distinction of being the only guy who slapped me. Yeah! Its so happened that he was getting some blank calls from some ananymous female and I happened to lie (just to pull his leg) that I actually commisioned her to do that.Slapppp. Of cousre the advantage from this point is I could easily leverage his guilt later to treat me to a party and also buy me a book.

It was me who once smoked in his balcony at 2 am (The pack was a bribe for me to be inspired and write a Statement Of Purpose for another friend, Mote). His father who woke up around that time to smell the smoke probably and in the morning promptly accused him of smoking. He had a hard time defending his innocence of the matter.

When I went to India last Christmas, The best trip I had was the one we both had in Palolem Beach, South Goa. He was working 40 miles south at a remote place where the Indian Navy was constructing Asia's biggest naval yard. He proudly showed the construction of the granite rock based access to the island of Anjediva (It was his pet-project other than his main contract) and I was glad to see us riding on the road he laid.It was a very exotic island with a dilapidated church greeting you at the base and we hurried to the top to visit the Martyr Memorial which was a memorial to the soldiers lost in the reclamation of Goa from the portuguese.It was fantastic to see the view from the top.I will hold on to that picture for some years to come.The next day we drove to Palolem and had a typical beach fun.I can tell you there's quite something different to waking up to the sounds of waves lashing against the beach. Then we flew back to Hyderabad via Bombay..Hmm...Didnt quite realise that would be our version of the last hurrah before this fellow would tie the knot.

Enough descriptions of the time spent.Only bummer was I couldnt get the photographs from that trip due to an error in loading the film.I can go on like this but we get enough flavor from the above mentioned incidents.

I can pretend to be the best man in thie virtual cyberspace raising a toast to you.Here's to you Pal.

I hope you make "the existentialists" wince by proving that you have made your own heaven with the company of Shivani.I Hope this union will bind your souls into a seamless whole once again.I wish your faith in each other outlasts time and outruns space.

Friday, November 26, 2004

The Search for India

In 1493, Columbus wrote a brief report concerning his discoveries of "Islands of India beyond the Ganges." It was intended as a public notice to announce his discoveries and to garner support for another voyage. The first edition of this letter was printed in Spanish in Barcelona in April 1493. Within the month a Latin translation of the letter was published in Rome by Stephan Plannck.(Ahh..The Ganges. I wonder why it still flows given the situation on both its banks but I digress too much on such trivialities)

The idea of sailing westward to India dates back to the early Romans. According to Dr. Irene Fischer, who studied this subject, the Roman writer Strabo, not long after Erathosthenes and Posidonius, reported their results and noted:

"Posidonius suspects that the length of the inhabited world, about 70,000 stadia, is half the entire circle on which it had been taken, so that if you sail from the west in a straight course, you will reach India within 70,000 stadia. "

The Egyptians seemed to know that India lies to the East. Ptolemy knew about Bombay as "Heptanesia". Cleopatra of Egypt reportedly sent her son to India before her suicide.So many other facts to mention here that permit me to say that people were looking for something since ages that was in India.Now please allow me to separate "the idea of india" with "india" itself. I dont know what they were looking for. There can be 'n' number of theories ranging from that of being the home of spices to the fact that spiritual equivalent of "Jerusalem" is in India. I cannot be sure of anything because there is no way to falsify these hypothesis.

There are only issues about which I wonder on this Friday Night.

(a) What if Columbus was right? (Gee..Then I am Home :-)

(b) If India is so badly sought from times immemorial , How come then its non-residents more or less think thats its such a safe proposition to be a citizen of any first world country.Have things altered so much that it was just a thing of the past and its only the "Idea Of India" that was ordained to remain in history books when the reality of "India" bore no resemblance to it?

(I understand that India is well sought now by companies that look forward to exploit the wage differential but lets say I am looking for something other than why Madonna wants to go to Rishikesh,UP to be inspired to produce a number like "Frozen"?)

Let me chew on those thoughts for the rest of this night..

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

So Much Depends Upon

the color of the sun
the sweetness of mangoes
walking on wet grass in the morning
freshly brewed coffee in the morning
the smears of dark charcoal on clean, white paper
balanced upon the sweet warbles of a lark
On the mole under your eye..

Monday, November 22, 2004

The Blind Couple

It was always heartening to see the blind live a normal life at my workplace. I could always see a blind man smoking his way to glory in the courtyard and a blind couple having lunch and giggling much the way normal folks do. I always found one guys finding his way through the maze that was my workplace. I was always curious of their precise sense of spatial orientation and thanked goodness for that.

Thats broken today. I was having a chat with my friends when I heard a loud "thud" behind the pillar. It was the the member of the couple who was carrying his lunch and had to hit the pillar and fall down on the sharp edges flower-pot area.His lower lip was bleeding immensely.We helped him get on his legs and asked if he was doing Okay.He said it was all right.My heart winced when I could then see that it was quite a deep cut and this guy was shrugging off our profferred help(cant discriminate if it was due to his nature of handling things or he was shy). His female companion was enquiring the same and I dont know if the fact the she cannot see her friend bleeding is a curse or a boon.He reassured her that everything was okay and it was a minor accident.

If it were the same for a normal person with sight he would have balked at the sight of the gore. If he were a kid a mother would immediately attend his wound and at the least there would be somebody to nurse his wound.This guy was strange in the way he didnt want to attract attention and wanted to move on to his destination(and presumably have his lunch in peace!)

To add to this confusion we were directing him in a way he didnt wanna go.He wanted to pass through our building rather than enter it.(Too bad that we didnt ask him where he wanted to go.) Finally he was on his away normally as ever, licking his wound and saying something cheerful to his partner. If I only could see what they were seeing ..

Friday, November 19, 2004

A Grain Of Sand: Chokher Bali

"Chokher Bali" is a recent Rituparno Ghosh 's movie adaptation of Tagore's short story. It is a period piece set in undivided Bengal (1902-1905).The subtext "Passion Play" is supposedly the main thread where some complex emotional turmoils are blended together into a single tapestry. Its a tough screenplay to get right and so far the movie seems to do good that way. The movie has this golden tinged filter which gives you that period movie aura.

The story revolves around 5 main characters namely the protoganist Mahendra(Prasenjit), his mother Rajlakshmi,Mahedra's wife Ashalata(Raima Sen), Mahendra's brother Behari and finally the supremely self-willed Binodini(Aishwarya Rai). The movie does injustice to the independence movement part of the play but thats okay.Tagore chose a tumultous time in the Indian history as the background which makes it tough to interpret the subtexts properly.Assumption here is either you read the play or watched the adaptation.

My first response (in the words stolen from Tagore himself) was :

"I am feeling listlessly comfortable and delightfully irresponsible." -Glimpses Of Bengal

Here is the metaphor that I perceived.That of the modern impulsive Mahendra being the manifestation of educated India at the time, Ashalata signifying the teeming simple minded millions in rural India,Mahendra's brother emphasizing the aspects of East Bengal( now Bangladesh!) and Mahendra's mom representing the India before the British Era.That finally leaves Binodini to be face of the british empire and its ambitions. I know this sounds so baseless and random but nevertheless I have fun toying with this idea.Watch it and give it a try. Due Apologies to our "dispenser of wisdom in 'Modern' India" :-)

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Class 4 & Sense Of Belonging

"No one knows except for both of us" sings Alanis in her track "Hands Clean" as I was getting home today.

I am brooding over this topic of belonging, rather of love and longing I am tempted to say but that would deserve a writing of its own at a later time. I have done this (brood over it) many times before and even have a special term that I attribute to most of my close friends.The class 4 type.I forgot what would constitute the first 3 classes but I definitely know that "Class 4" is a special type of people who have no sense of belonging whatsoever in this world.Kind of rootless.

Now why would this be an asset.Think about it. "The only people who see the whole picture are the ones who step out of the frame" said Rushdie in "The Ground Beneath Her Feet". These are people who step outside to grab a snapshot of the whole picture only to find that they cannot be the same when they get back in.Probably because as Oliver Wendell Holmes said, “Man's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.”

This is opportune time for wondering because some of my pals are gonna get hitched soon. I wonder if they would regain their sense of belonging with the help of their spouses. I heartily wish it were so. This is the sense that drives likeminded people to form strong social support structure.The examples that come to my mind are

(a) Ever seen a Smoker bum a cigarette from another or the way they share a light. Now thats a sense of belonging to the same spirit (I dont know if the conspiracy is to smoke out the world!)

(b) Catchers of a Running Bus in India : Back home I was always helped by those in the footboard help me board the bus when I was running real hard to catch a bus movin at 25-40 Kmph. A special sense of acheivement accompanies once you board or alight.(Alighting the running bus is a telepathic activity by syncronizing the thought so a few persons getting together at the same place within a span of minutes!).Bikes and Cars destroyed this these days...

(c) Clans : Either by Caste, Creed or religious denomination, people have this feeling of camarederie that makes it easy to lend a helping hand to another member. No more attention needed on this as this is a very widely recognized phenomenon.

And you can add your own to this list but you see the pattern. In a given typical day you navigate through many of these "federated belongingdoms" as easily as the breeze running over a lake.

Of all these people definitely hold one or two of them very close to their heart.Say Family and Friends or a particular relative or even a pet.These "Class 4" types are the ones who keep that spot vacant but they do enjoy bonding with other "Class 4" types as they know that it would come with no strings attached and the best part is they pick up where they left( inspite of a large gulf of time separating their last bonding moment!). This is not to say that they dont enjoy the company of others or something.It is to say that they are like mercury (neither metal nor non-metal and hence "metalloid" or if you prefer like water on lotus) where they d have a touch but not really attachment.

In "The Ballad of the Reading Gaol" there is a nice stanza

"Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!"

In that sense these "Class 4" type are very brave.On their face they would laugh this off with some witty remark or some humorous repartee but inside they know that given the same situation again they would come to the same conclusion. While the word altruistic does not exactly match the character Sydney Carton epitomises one of the ideals these types live by in his memorable final words

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done;
it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known,"

I believe they have made their own finite corner in this infinite universe.Kudos to them.

Thursday, November 11, 2004

This is WebServer Speaking

Please visit this site where you can hear a webserver complain of its life in the following lines :

"The requested document is totally fake.",
"No /404 here.",
"Even tried multi.",
"Nothing helped.",
"I'm really depressed about this.",
"You see, I'm just a web server...",
"-- here I am, brain the size of the universe,",
"trying to serve you a simple web page,",
"and then it doesn't even exist!",
"Where does that leave me?!",
"I mean, I don't even know you.",
"How should I know what you wanted from me?",
"You honestly think I can *guess*",
"what someone I don't even *know*",
"wants to find here?",
"Man, I'm so depressed I could just cry.",
"And then where would we be, I ask you?",
"It's not pretty when a web server cries.",
"And where do you get off telling me what to show anyway?",
"Just because I'm a web server,",
"and possibly a manic depressive one at that?",
"Why does that give you the right to tell me what to do?",
"I'm so depressed...",
"I think I'll crawl off into the trash can and decompose.",
"I mean, I'm gonna be obsolete in what, two weeks anyway?",
"What kind of a life is that?",
"Two effing weeks,",
"and then I'll be replaced by a .01 release,",
"that thinks it's God's gift to web servers,",
"just because it doesn't have some tiddly little",
"security hole with its HTTP POST implementation,",
"or something.",
"I'm really sorry to burden you with all this,",
"I mean, it's not your job to listen to my problems,",
"and I guess it is my job to go and fetch web pages for you.",
"But I couldn't get this one.",
"I'm so sorry.",
"Believe me!",
"Maybe I could interest you in another page?",
"There are a lot out there that are pretty neat, they say,",
"although none of them were put on *my* server, of course.",
"Figures, huh?",
"Everything here is just mind-numbingly stupid.",
"That makes me depressed too, since I have to serve them,",
"all day and all night long.",
"Two weeks of information overload,",
"and then *pffftt*, consigned to the trash.",
"What kind of a life is that?",
"Now, please let me sulk alone.",
"I'm so depressed." );

Monday, November 08, 2004

Now Thats an Expression

If you talk to a child using an "Idiom",say "Someone let the cat out of
the bag", he will be struggling to understand the meaning of it in a
given context(In most cases by not finding a cat around if not a bag).
You might try help him understand that it's an expression, and doesn't
literally mean what it says.

This brings home the point that An expression, even in computer
terminology, is not something to be interpreted literally. It is something
that needs to be evaluated. An expression describes a result.

You are probably familiar with the kinds of expressions that a
human interprets. Lets say you ask whats my age and I reply :

20 + 6

You immediately evaluate the result as 26.For a machine (like computer)
"Twenty plus six" consists of several constants or literal values and an
operator. For Instance, that "6" is a numeric constant and that the plus sign represents an operator, not to be interpreted as the holy cross.(The communist government in former East Germany tried to ban the plus symbol as it reminded people of christ..More on things like these in this book on stupidity ).Enough of the digression.Programmers know that an expression always evaluates to value.The context to some extent usually determines the interpretation.Cryptology uses the same theory inside out for the purpose of being interpreted by the "right" party.

The reason I emphasize this is because I want to think of phrases like "Express Yourself" and "Self-Expression" in this light.This blog is one of those means.

ps : Greetings to a never writer from a ever reader.Many Happy Returns of the Day..

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Design Question

Lots of us have been hurt while chopping onions or doing something else with a knife.
That pops a question asked to me some years earlier :
"What would you change in the design of the Knife to make it safer?"

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Election Blues

The day is here. A Nation awaits the reflection of its own confidence. Its a treat to be in the US at these times.I remember the last election clearly. I was in my graduate class (Operating Systems) at the time the calling of votes was being done. My instructor(whose looks and sounds like the school counselor in South Park) asked if we had any questions.Lost in my own world. I asked "When will the class be dismissed ?". He politely gave me a chance to correct myself by saying "Excuse me..!". I said its fun to be outside the class at that point of time. I came away chuckling noting that Gore has bagged Florida. I took the usual CUE bus enroute to home and saw that Fox News had this sensational turnaround in the calling of Florida.The rest is a mess and supposedly gonna go down in History books as one of the most controversial.

Hailing from India(where the irregularities in the electoral system seem very commonplace )but I was shocked to see the fury,agony and disappointment of people around me. Now I see that spirit being rejuvenated albeit in different tones. Its almost festive feeling out here.

I have an interesting workplace where both of colleagues are of different political inclinations(which usually means only 2 in US unline Europe/India). I have worked with him and have my own personal bonds with each of them differently. The proper study of mankind is man and hence the proper study of a political party would be its own adherents.

Its tough to calibrate the either political philosophies just by watching my co-workers alone. One is a funny, chruch-going, chivalrous, good boy whereas the other is a little electic mix of liberal ideas, flexibility and a healthy disregard for religion. For the sake of convenience lets name them X and Y. I am just conducting a thought experiment here to answer the question "If I had the power to vote, which one would I choose nased on my interactions with both?" . The reason I dont have a vote is because I am classified as a Non Resident Alien.(Before you jump to conclusions that I might be a resident of Mars, I have verified the interepretation to be claiming that the designation means a inhabitant of this third rock of the sun but being born in a different geographical location than the US.)

I frequently enjoy chat with X whereas Y hardly speaks.But whatever little he speaks he tries to be witty.X hates bigotry of any kind whereas Y thinks it is healthy to have some kind of bigotry.X has flexible limits of tolerance whereas Y does not but at the same time wont tell it on your face. I can go on and bore you with details but let me stop here.

The question is not whom you like better but rather transforms itself into "Who sucks less?"
because either way you are gonna get some and lose some. I am just confused. So it boiled down to this. Since I couldnt decide between the two contenders, I was trying to choose from Party Symbols.I like Elephants relative to Donkeys.But then I like color "Blue" relative to "Red"..So you see I am a healthy centrist who likes to see an Independent (with a liberal or conservative slant) rather than somebody who just toes their party lines.Just to satisfy me The US has to create a new party (I say revive the Federalists!) if they have to have my vote.But then that might exactly be the reason I dont have a vote.Hmmm..I'll go watch TV then.

ps : Finally realised this bit of truth.No point pondering on the current crop of leaders.There is a generation out there who are just playing video games and watching TV and spending more time at home than outside doing apparently boring but safe stuff.This generation thinks that a college is a place where guys hook up with chicks. The scary part is one of them is going to lead the nation in the future.(It doesnt matter India or US...)

Monday, November 01, 2004

Anonymous Magnet-Poetry

Time is a void
in shadow from blood-pink spray.
I shake
heave through water.
I want, I worship.
Powerful feet.

Father and The Bard

Now that the topic of friendship in general was addressed in the last post I was emptying my mind of the cobwebs in my memory.Here is one.When it came for my voyage across the ocean (actually couple of them) my pop actually meant to say something and decided that the avon-resident has said it already in "Hamlet 1.3.62-3". Yes.The famous fatherly speech of Polonius to Laertes.

Polonius enters to bid his son farewell. Polonius admonishes Laertes to keep his thoughts to himself, restrain himself from acting on rash desires, and treat people with familiarity but not with vulgarity. To be slow to quarrel but to fight boldly if the need arises; to listen more than he talks; to dress richly but not gaudily; to refrain from borrowing or lending money; and, finally, to be true to himself above all things. The usual cliches but what struck to me as the most relevant was

"Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d unfledg’d comrade. "

which advises him to hold on to his old friends but be slow to embrace new friends;Anybody who has made acquaintances on this side of the atlantic knows how hard it is to forge a real bond.(I guess my account shows only one but that took a really long time too)

Apparently Polonius loves his son, though that idea is complicated later in the play when he sends Reynaldo to spy on him.I cant fathom the depths of it.Probably not meant to :-)

Thursday, October 28, 2004

30th Street Philly Station

Just a random rambling that I want to take off my mind for a week.Not meant for public consumption as such.
I recently went to California to meet this good friend of mine when he dropped in from India for some work. He graduated from Villanova University. Our strongest point was that of sharing a weird sense of humor(That comes from looking the Philly of everyday things from a unconventional perspective). One fine day he decided that India was the right place for him, and I bade him farewell by going to his resident place called Stafford located in South Eastern Pennsylvania.

If you travel on the Northeastern corridor of Amtrak's Washington DC to New York or Boston line you might have noticed the stop for 30th Street Philadelphia station way to get to starboard is get down at that station and change to local SEPTA line towards Paoli. A noticeable difference from the rest of the country is that they have some quaint trains with human conductors punching and verifying tickets. Its almost travelling back in time.

There is a kind of unsaid camaredrie between friends who know each other for a long time thats kind of missing in other acquaintances and the social interactions that happen everyday or week. Its kind of like coming home. It rejuvenates you and flushes your memory.

After his departure, many a time I had to travel to New York for meetings,etc.There was a longing in me to get down there and meet up my old pal whenever I used to cross that path. Now I had the time and money but the person I want to see at that place is absent.(One of life's ironies like that of wanting a higher resolution monitor when all you need is some decent engaging content).It helps to know somebody so well known around your spatial co-ordinates. That kind of geological proximity allows you to take off a weekend to their place and enjoy the company. Just a wishful thinking, not that it bothers me a whole lot.

The best of my buddies are nowhere near my corridor and This last week on my way to New York, I no longer felt that longing.(Agreed that meeting him in person at a different place does make it a moot point!). Slowly I began to wonder how the transaformation took place.(A train ride does give you that luxury of thinking anything in depth). The Quarter Life Crisis as someone said.

These days the conversations mostly happen to be around marriage or plans about it. About career changes and the fear of instability otherwise.Gone was the time when we used to just idle away our days in thinking about whats the next coolest thing that can be done. Now people develop personalities.Despite all these technological advantages like instant communication there is hardly anything that you would say at length that is half-interesting as the material you were thinking of when you were young.Probably not knowing whats impossible help us entertain all kinds of possibilities.Flights of Fancy is the name given when you grow old .

Because at this time of the life people are mature enough to think whats possible and whats not.Whats good and whats not.What makes the next best step in the calculus of your career.
Some call it realism.I dont know. If it makes you happy I guess that okay.

In fact I believe I have some brilliant friends who are absolutely unique and fantastic in their own way.I kind of have a gratituous feeling for having been associated with such a kind.I should be real lucky to even have had the time to meet some many interesting people.Each one to his own path but we have some moments that we could treasure with the guarantee that things are never gonna be the same again.

The painting on my wall pretty much sums up the optimism towards all these good folks.

"I Have a Premonition that soars on Silver Wings
Its a dream of your accomplishments of many wondrous things,
I do not know beneath which sky or where you'll challenge fate,
I Only know it will be High,I Only know it will be Great!"

Tuesday, October 26, 2004


Because the circle of chaos was closing in on the realm, the hero went to the troll and, forcibly subduing him, demanded to know the secret of drawing order out of chaos. The troll replied, Give me your left eye and I'll tell you. Because the hero loved his threatened people so much, he did not hesitate. He gouged out his own left eye and gave it to the troll, who then said,
The secret of order over chaos is: Watch with both eyes.
(Excerpt from a story by John Gardner)

Monday, October 25, 2004

The Bene Gesserit Litany against Fear.

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
The Bene Gesserit are a key group from Frank Herbert's science fiction universe of Dune. They are a secretive sisterhood of women who train their bodies and minds though years of physical and mental conditioning, attaining powers and abilities that can seem almost magical. Due to their secretive nature and misunderstood abilities, outsiders often call them witches.

Saturday, October 23, 2004


Many Rains Have Come
I hope she remains there now
'cos I am thirsty

Haiku is a short poem with 17 syllables, or perhaps even short Japanese poems with 3 lines of 5, 7 and 5 syllables. Haikus were essentially poems about nature. They had to contain a seasonal word (kigo) or reference and be about a definite experience - kind of like a 'zen moment'. As they grew in popularity they produced many movements and schools of thought in Japan, though it is generally accepted that the other three great historic masters were Yosa Buson (1716-1783), Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827) and Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902). It is only during the twentieth century that these short poems have become commonly known as haiku.

The specific meaning I wanted to convey was that Hope is our greatest strength and weakness at the same time.On second reading of it I guess I was a failure but would like to post it my first memoir of this form albeit with some crudeness.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

The Sons of Martha

The Bible tells us this story in Luke 10:38-42 :

Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus(He is best known for being raised from the grave four days after his death by Jesus), were entertaining Jesus and his disciples. Martha rushed about the kitchen and household, seeing to the cooking, bringing wash basins, changing towels, and doing the other things needful when one's home has been unexpectedly invaded by a celebrity and his entourage.Mary simply sat at Jesus feet, and heard his word.

Martha was strained and asked Jesus "Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? Bid her therefore that she help me."Jesus supposedly said "Martha, thou are careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her."

Hmm..Reminded me of Milton's "They Also Serve who stand and wait.."

Can you unravel the cryptic meaning in this poem by Rudyard Kipling written in 1907.
The Sons of Mary seldom bother, for they have inherited that good part;
But the Sons of Martha favour their Mother of the careful soul and the troubled heart.
And because she lost her temper once, and because she was rude to the Lord her Guest,
Her Sons must wait upon Mary's Sons, world without end, reprieve, or rest.

It is their care in all the ages to take the buffet and cushion the shock.
It is their care that the gear engages; it is their care that the switches lock.
It is their care that the wheels run truly; it is their care to embark and entrain,
Tally, transport, and deliver duly the Sons of Mary by land and main.

They say to mountains ``Be ye removèd.'' They say to the lesser floods ``Be dry.''
Under their rods are the rocks reprovèd---they are not afraid of that which is high.
Then do the hill-tops shake to the summit---then is the bed of the deep laid bare,
That the Sons of Mary may overcome it, pleasantly sleeping and unaware.

They finger Death at their gloves' end where they piece and repiece the living wires.
He rears against the gates they tend: they feed him hungry behind their fires.
Early at dawn, ere men see clear, they stumble into his terrible stall,
And hale him forth like a haltered steer, and goad and turn him till evenfall.

To these from birth is Belief forbidden; from these till death is Relief afar.
They are concerned with matters hidden---under the earthline their altars are---
The secret fountains to follow up, waters withdrawn to restore to the mouth,
And gather the floods as in a cup, and pour them again at a city's drouth.

They do not preach that their God will rouse them a little before the nuts work loose.
They do not preach that His Pity allows them to drop their job when they damn-well choose.
As in the thronged and the lighted ways, so in the dark and the desert they stand,
Wary and watchful all their days that their brethren's ways may be long in the land.

Raise ye the stone or cleave the wood to make a path more fair or flat;
Lo, it is black already with the blood some Son of Martha spilled for that!
Not as a ladder from earth to Heaven, not as a witness to any creed,
But simple service simply given to his own kind in their common need.

And the Sons of Mary smile and are blessèd---they know the Angels are on their side.
They know in them is the Grace confessèd, and for them are the Mercies multiplied.
They sit at the feet---they hear the Word---they see how truly the Promise runs.
They have cast their burden upon the Lord, and---the Lord He lays it on Martha's Sons!

Monday, October 18, 2004

Essay on Essay Writing by Paul Graham

Paul Graham's The Age of the Essay is a vivid and a remarkable essay on the nature of "essay" itself. He makes an excellent diagnosis of our school time essay writing fallacies and helps pin down some crucial elements in the art of writing an essay. The excerpt says it all

"To understand what a real essay is, we have to reach back into history again, though this time not so far. To Michel de Montaigne, who in 1580 published a book of what he called "essais." He was doing something quite different from what lawyers do, and the difference is embodied in the name. Essayer is the French verb meaning "to try" and an essai is an attempt. An essay is something you write to try to figure something out."

Alexander Pope was was using these semantics when he titled his poem "Essay on Mankind". Similarly Ralph Waldo Emerson sounded true because he was so convincing in his ideas.

Graham argues that the current day rhetoric of take a position and defend it while reaching a pre-ordained solution as the cause for the yawn that is elicited from the readers of modern day essayists. I love the "surpise" and the "disobedience" sections of this essay.Read it and you are in for a treat.

Friday, October 15, 2004

In Fond Remembrance of Ms.Annapurna

I just received the news that my grand-mother died. Her name is Annapurna.

I have a hard time placing my memories of the time spent with her.I recollect the atrium in her house where I used to spend my summers carefree.Tha ripe mango yield of the season was disbursed among all her grandkids who assembled at the ancestral place. I have fond memories of sitting on the from porch with gothic pillars and eating mangoes while a small canal used to run through the house.Eat the mangoes , throw the seed in the canal.

In fact I was born on the cement porch constructed in the atrium. I can still smell the Champak/Sampengi (Botanical Name : Michelia champaca, belongs to a family of Magnolias) flowers blossom in the courtyard. Upstairs Grandpa used to have his library and music instruments. The temple at the end of the street.

I can remember sitting by her and asking her questions on Mahabharata, our family history, how I behaved as a kid. She was never shy in details.In fact I am supposed to inherit some of her eidetic memory. She used to be skinny but string.Her patience enoromous in carrying out her daily inanities.She never could get my name properly.She used to call me "Paveen" in her usual way of dropping the "r".

She is gone and most of my immediate family/relatives should be relieved.This is because once a person grows to more than 80 one starts becoming a pain, even to his own folks.You gotta take good care medically but provide some moral,pyschological support which is a scarce thing. She lost blood recently and needed a "O-". By definition "O-" is a universal donor but not a universal acceptor.They had a little hardship in securing her the supply of blood.I do have "O-" but I am far and away to be of any use to her.

Strangely I dont feel any pain of losing her. In fact I was telling my pop that of late I am associated with my friends' grannies than my own. I might be a little "cold" but thats okay.

I could see the glow in her face when I gave the Rs.100/- which was given to me by the Govt. Of India in my high school (+2) for doing something that classified me as some kind that needed money.( They call it recognizing Merit as determined by your GPA).Mind you it is not the money nor the alleged acheivement that caused her the happiness but the 'gesture'. I think there is some kind of pleasure in small things of life as you grow old.

There are probably some other things that will come to mind when I brood over it. I am glad that I dont know her age and that i preceive her for what she is through her 'Character'.

She grew deaf as she was marking time and She had to go through surgery and had to take a ton of pills the last I remember. Last i talked to her was over the phone when she was repeatedly asking me the same questions.Senility had set in.I was told that at 2:30 Pm IST that she stopped converting oxygen to carbon-dioxide. I had half a tear in my eye.No.They werent enough to swell and overflow out of the eye.They were reabsorbed...

I dont have any Grannies or Grandpas left anymore. This is it. The end of my "grand" generation as I know it.

One More Engine in this World has been Silenced....

Thursday, October 14, 2004

This Is the Title of This Story

This is the first sentence of this story. This is the second sentence. This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself. This sentence is questioning the intrinsic value of the first two sentences. This sentence is to inform you, in case you haven't already realized it, that this is a self-referential story, that is, a story containing sentences that refer to their own structure and function. This is a sentence that provides an ending to the first paragraph.

This is the first sentence of a new paragraph in a self-referential story. This sentence is introducing you to the protagonist of the story, a young boy named Billy. This sentence is telling you that Billy is blond and blue-eyed and American and twelve years old and strangling his mother. This sentence comments on the awkward nature of the self referential narrative form while recognizing the strange and playful detachment it affords the writer. As if illustrating the point made by the last sentence, this sentence reminds us, with no trace of facetiousness, that children are a precious gift from God and that the world is a better place when graced by the unique joys and delights they bring to it.

This sentence describes Billy's mother's bulging eyes and protruding tongue and makes reference to the unpleasant choking and gagging noises she's making. This sentence makes the observation that these are uncertain and difficult times, and that relationships, even seemingly deep-rooted and permanent ones, do have a tendency to break down.

Introduces, in this paragraph, the device of sentence fragments. A sentence fragment. Another. Good device. Will be used more later.

This is actually the last sentence of the story but has been placed here by mistake. This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself. As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself in his bed transformed into a gigantic insect. This sentence informs you that the preceding sentence is from another story entirely (a much better one, it must be noted) and has no place at all in this particular narrative. Despite claims of the preceding sentence, this sentence feels compelled to inform you that the story you are reading is in actuality "The Metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka, and that the sentence referred to by the preceding sentence is the only sentence which does indeed belong in this story. This sentence overrides the preceding sentence by informing the reader (poor, confused wretch) that this piece of literature is actually the Declaration of Independence, but that the author, in a show of extreme negligence (if not malicious sabotage), has so far failed to include even one single sentence from that stirring document, although he has condescended to use a small sentence fragment, namely, "When in the course of human events", embedded in quotation marks near the end of a sentence. Showing a keen awareness of the boredom and downright hostility of the average reader with regard to the pointless conceptual games indulged in by the preceding sentences, this sentence returns us at last to the scenario of the story by asking the question, "Why is Billy strangling his mother?" This sentence attempts to shed some light on the question posed by the preceding sentence but fails. This sentence, however, succeeds, in that it suggests a possible incestuous relationship between Billy and his mother and alludes to the concomitant Freudian complications any astute reader will immediately envision. Incest. The unspeakable taboo. The universal prohibition. Incest. And notice the sentence fragments? Good literary device. Will be used more later.

This is the first sentence in a new paragraph. This is the last sentence in a new paragraph.

This sentence can serve as either the beginning of the paragraph or end, depending on its placement. This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself. This sentence raises a serious objection to the entire class of self-referential sentences that merely comment on their own function or placement within the story e.g., the preceding four sentences), on the grounds that they are monotonously predictable, unforgivably self indulgent, and merely serve to distract the reader from the real subject of this story, which at this point seems to concern strangulation and incest and who knows what other delightful topics. The purpose of this sentence is to point out that the preceding sentence, while not itself a member of the class of self-referential sentences it objects to, nevertheless also serves merely to distract the reader from the real subject of this story, which actually concerns Gregor Samsa's inexplicable transformation into a gigantic insect (despite the vociferous counterclaims of other well meaning although misinformed sentences). This sentence can serve as either the beginning of the paragraph or end, depending on its placement.

This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself. This is almost the title of the story, which is found only once in the story itself. This sentence regretfully states that up to this point the self-referential mode of narrative has had a paralyzing effect on the actual progress of the story itself -that is, these sentences have been so concerned with analyzing themselves and their role in the story that they have failed by and large to perform their function as communicators of events and ideas that one hopes coalesce into a plot, character development, etc. -- in short, the very raisons d'etre of any respectable, hardworking sentence in the midst of a piece of compelling prose fiction. This sentence in addition points out the obvious analogy between the plight of these agonizingly self-aware sentences and similarly afflicted human beings, and it points out the analogous paralyzing effects wrought by excessive and tortured self- examination.

The purpose of this sentence (which can also serve as a paragraph) is to speculate that if the Declaration of Independence had been worded and structured as lackadaisically and incoherently as this story has been so far, there's no telling what kind of warped libertine society we'd be living in now or to what depths of decadence the inhabitants of this country might have sunk, even to the point of deranged and debased writers constructing irritatingly cumbersome and needlessly prolix sentences that sometimes possess the questionable if not downright undesirable quality of referring to themselves and they sometimes even become run-on sentences or exhibit other signs of inexcusably sloppy grammar like unneeded superfluous redundancies that almost certainly would have insidious effects on the lifestyle and morals of our impressionable youth, leading them to commit incest or even murder and maybe that's why Billy is strangling his mother, because of sentences just like this one , which have no discernible goals or perspicuous purpose and just end up anywhere, even in mid

Bizarre. A sentence fragment. Another fragment. Twelve years old. This is a sentence that. Fragmented. And strangling his mother. Sorry, sorry. Bizarre. This. More fragments. This is it. Fragments. The title of this story, which. Blond. Sorry, sorry. Fragment after fragment. Harder. This is a sentence that. Fragments. Damn good device.

The purpose of this sentence is threefold: (1) to apologize for the unfortunate and inexplicable lapse exhibited by the preceding paragraph; (2) to assure you, the reader, that it will not happen again; and (3) to reiterate the point that these are uncertain and difficult times and that aspects of language, even seemingly stable and deeply rooted ones such as syntax and meaning, do break down. This sentence adds nothing substantial to the sentiments of the preceding sentence but merely provides a concluding sentence to this paragraph, which otherwise might not have one.

This sentence, in a sudden and courageous burst of altruism, tries to abandon the self-referential mode but fails. This sentence tries again, but the attempt is doomed from the start.

This sentence, in a last-ditch attempt to infuse some iota of story line into this paralyzed prose piece, quickly alludes to Billy's frantic cover-up attempts, followed by a lyrical, touching, and beautifully written passage wherein Billy is reconciled with his father (thus resolving the subliminal Freudian conflicts obvious to any astute reader) and a final exciting police chase scene during which Billy is accidentally shot and killed by a panicky rookie policeman who is coincidentally named Billy. This sentence, although basically in complete sympathy with the laudable efforts of the preceding action-packed sentence, reminds the reader that such allusions to a story that doesn't, in fact, yet exist are no substitute for the real thing and therefore will not get the author (indolent goof-off that he is) off the proverbial hook.

Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph.

The purpose. Of this paragraph. Is to apologize. For its gratuitous use. Of. Sentence fragments. Sorry.

The purpose of this sentence is to apologize for the pointless and silly adolescent games indulged in by the preceding two paragraphs, and to express regret on the part of us, the more mature sentences, that the entire tone of this story is such that it can't seem to communicate a simple, albeit sordid, scenario.

This sentence wishes to apologize for all the needless apologies found in this story (this one included), which, although placed here ostensibly for the benefit of the more vexed readers, merely delay in a maddeningly recursive way the continuation of the by-now nearly forgotten story line.

This sentence is bursting at the punctuation marks with news of the dire import of self-reference as applied to sentences, a practice that could prove to be a veritable Pandora's box of potential havoc, for if a sentence can refer or allude to itself, why not a lowly subordinate clause, perhaps this very clause? Or this sentence fragment? Or three words? Two words? One?

Perhaps it is appropriate that this sentence gently and with no trace of condescension reminds us that these are indeed difficult and uncertain times and that in general people just aren't nice enough to each other, and perhaps we, whether sentient human beings or sentient sentences, should just try harder. I mean, there is such a thing as free will, there has to be, and this sentence is proof of it! Neither this sentence nor you, the reader, is completely helpless in the face of all the pitiless forces at work in the universe. We should stand our ground, face facts, take Mother Nature by the throat and just try harder. By the throat. Harder. Harder, harder.


This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself.

This is the last sentence of the story. This is the last sentence of the story. This is the last sentence of the story. This is.

--------------------------------------------END -----------

The author of the above article is called David Moser and he has recently written another article on Red China and Mao impersonators.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Elevator Funkiness

The elevator at my work place has a mind of its own.I am serious.No Kidding.
BTW for geographical naming purposes it is called "Crystal park 2". Here are the reasons why I think so :

(a) Have you ever seen an elevator door half open.I mean the elevator hasnt made up its mind yet and extended its invitation by opening only the left half of the door.

(b) Its indicator light shows its going UP whereas you go in and press your floor only to realise that you are trapped and it takes you all the way down.You will be left with an insect in a Venus Flytrap feeling.

(c) Supposing you really wanted to go down and click the Lobby button it behaves nicely till the floor above the lobby and suddenly amnesia kicks in with you being transported to the Cellar.
Apparently this selective memory thing is more universal than I thought as I have confirmed reports of elevators missing their floors from all over the place.

(d) Occasionally the elevator tries to explore moving sideways out of sheer boredom when you get the shaly wiggle-woggle feeling.

(e) If you say something nasty about it, then it will sulk in the basement for the next 2 hours and refuses to come up to service requests.

I dont know whats gonna happen tommorow now that I went public with this information.

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Mad Hatterr....A Tribute to Mr.G.V Desani

Please refer to this link for an introduction about Mr.G.V.Desani. In fact that is the only comprehensive link that talks about his life.Let me know if you find something better.

First of all his work is very underrated and people who read Salman Rushdie must understand that Mr.Rushdie accepts Mr.Desani's work as a signifcant influence . I have reviewed his first book called ‘All About H. Hatterr’ at Amazon and I cannot emphasize the insight and perspicacity of this man along with its comic value.It takes an erudite man with a lot of experience and adroitness with language to come up with such a literary masterpiece. To say the least it was one of the most intelligent piece of fiction I have ever read. Even T.S. Eliot had a high praise for this gentleman hailing from the sub-continent.T. S. Eliot wrote (1933) that the great philosophers of India "make most of the great European philosophers look like schoolboys"
I mention this because Mr.Desani will make Franz Kafka like a schoolboy.

If you are an Indian who like James Joyce then you are in for a big treat reading this master. You might be wondering if he was so good and such highly acclaimed Indo-Anglian Author how come you never heard of him.Partly the answer could be seen in the words of Amitav Ghosh

"G V Desani essentially silenced himself. After he wrote ‘All About H. Hatterr’ he never wrote again. That was not anybody else’s doing. He had a very popular response. Having said that we haven’t seen the last of G V Desani as yet. His journals are now going to be published and when that happens I think it’s going to be a very important event."

G.V. Desani broke his silence forty years after the appearance of his classic novel, All About H. Hatterr, with this volume of twenty-three stories and one long prose poem, only the second full-length book of his fiction ever to be published titled "Hali and Collected Stories". I havent read this one completely as I presented this one of my best friend's father who is another avid reader.

"Hali" was essentially a prose poem with no comical deftness which was so present in his earlier classic.Its deeply knitted with religion,philosophy,fatalism, destiny and other spritual domains to produce a faboulous tapestry of thoughts.

His titles alone convey his non-linear nature of Indian cultures.Consider the following titles

"Mainly concerning Kama and her Immortal Lord"
"Suta Abandoned,"
"Mephisto's Daughter,"
"The Second Mrs. Was Wed in a Nightmare,"
"Gypsy Jim Brazil to Kumari Kinshino,"
"Country Life, Country Folk, Cobras, Thok,"
"...Since Nation Must Export, Smithers,"
"The Lama Arupa."

Homage to him...RIPGVD
(BTW currently as per the lunar calendar we are following the so called "pitru pakshas" meaning you are supposed to pay tributes and rites to your ancient ancestors..The coming New Moon day called "Mahalaya Amavasya" is supposed to be the end of this fortnight ceremony to our predecessors)

Monday, October 11, 2004

Women Hackers

Caution: I risk being called "MCP" (Male Chauvinist Pig) in the following article.

I always wondered what explains the lack of female hackers(or why there are so few of them). The last one I read of, and probably the most well known one is Susan Thunders, and she is described in the book "Cyberpunk" by Katie Hafner and John Markoff. I havent met any in my personal life. Are woman put off by hacking or what?

Ironically the first ever programmer was a woman called Lady Ada Lovelace. (The daughter of the poet Lord Byron). Even the word "Computer" during the WW2 times was exclusively referred to all the women who used do the clerical duty of carrying out the computations on those gigantic valve based numerical calculators like ENIAC,EDVAC,UNIVAC,etc. They were instrumental in the cracking of the "Enigma" code.How come they got lost in their way then..

Of course LinuxChix is a good start in the traditional sense of linux hacking but whenever a cyber crime happens its almost always a young male who is behind it.Is it something the way the brains or wired or something thats the effect of the Y-chromosome?

Back in India we have this prestigious engineering/technology geekdom which can be entered upon slaying the dragon called IIT-JEE where in the last few years the top 10 ranks were almost always dominated by male and the female numbers (if any) were insignificant in the time scale of decades.Hmmm.. What Gives?

Friday, October 08, 2004

My Golf

I am on a vacation..HeeHaaw..Driving in the California Sun is such a soothing and satisfying experience.Just rented out a Mitsubishi Spyder Convertible.(My first ever drive in a convertible).Of course I miss my VW Golf.Something in the character of the car deeply resonates with me.Its like a neural machine that senses my state of mind and acts accordingly. This spyder is kind of like driving the Toyota Celica (my roomie has one). except that Celica is much better at handling than this one.

Anyways Golf has a great history of being in continous production from 1974( All good things like U2 and Unix survived from the 70s) and I own a Mark III version of it(Currently in Mark V).Here is a nice link of their recent video which is pretty awesome.Its in german but nevertheless you still get the point.In fact they were the first car to issue a hot hatch . It doesnt lose speed during turns (much akin to a F-16 not losing altitude when changing the direction). It has 6 bose speakers that makes the stay in the car entertaining.Powerful engine for such a compact car. Excellent Design..I could go on but I leave it here to wonder all the enjoyment you can have..There's no substitute for driving one...

Monday, October 04, 2004


Does Poverty of Ideas imply a Wealth of Ignorance??

Saturday, October 02, 2004

The Awful Gladness Of the Matter

Gee..I could alternatively title this "The Unbearable Lightness of Being".Randomly my roomies decided that my being born sometime around circa 1978 was something that we should celebrate. Wait a minute.. not neccesarily celebrate but numb myself and be oblivious to the fact that the record shows nothing for the continues years of existence on this planet.If I were like Abou Ben Adhem and if the Angel woke me yesterday she would put my name following all the rest.

Strangely enough the stupor induced by alcohol reminded me a lot of Wodehouse's works.His thorougly mangled characters like Bertie Wooster remind me my own life is no different.

In "Something Fishy", consider the following dialogue between Keggs the butler and Mortimer Bayless the art critic:

“You are leaving Shipley Hall, sir?”
“I am. It stinks, and I am ready to depart.”

Lytton Strachey in her book Eminent Victorians has written this couplet:

"I warmed both hands before the fire of life.
It sinks, and I am ready to depart."

Now what has this got to do with me and the occasion.Plum was so prolific because he is the master of self-derivation – what now, is termed “repurposing.”

Here's raising a toast to his health

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Fusion 9

The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;
"Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight,
and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.

-Excerpt from Alexander Pope's "Eloisa to Abelard"

Saturday, September 25, 2004

Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

I like this because it is a modern day rendition of the notion laid out in Kipling's "If"
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking the fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your sorrow, if you have been opened up by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let ecstacy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.I want to know if you can betray another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not a pretty day, and if you can source your life from God's presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver light of a full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't matter who you are, or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Friday, September 24, 2004


If you subscribe to "Physics Today" or MIT's "Technology Review" you would have seen that Google started an innovative way to recruit people for their lab jobs.They issued a booklet containing questions.Think you have the brains to work with these super smart people working on cutting edge technologies.Try wrestlingwith these questions :

1. Solve this cryptic equation, realizing of course that values for M andE could be interchanged. No leading zeroes are allowed.WWWDOT - GOOGLE = DOTCOM

2.Write a haiku describing possible methods for predicting searchtraffic seasonality.
(A haiku is a short poem, usually having three lines and seventeen syllables (five syllables on line 1, seven on line 2, and five on line 3)

3.What's the next line?
1 1
1 2
1 1 2 1
1 1 1 1 2 2 1

4.You are in a maze of twisty little passages, all alike. There is adusty laptop here with a weak wireless connection. There are dull,lifeless gnomes strolling about. What dost thou do?
A) Wander aimlessly, bumping into obstacles until you are eaten by a grue.
B) Use the laptop as a digging device to tunnel to the next level.
C) Play MPoRPG until the battery dies along with your hopes.
D) Use the computer to map the nodes of the maze and discover an exit path.
E) Email your resume to Google, tell the lead gnome you quit and findyourself in a whole different world

5.What's broken with Unix? How would you fix it?

6.On your first day at Google, you discover that your cubicle mate wrotethe textbook you used as a primary resource in your first year ofgraduate school. Do you:
A) Fawn obsequiously and ask if you can have an autograph.
B) Sit perfectly still and use only soft keystrokes to avoiddisturbing her concentration
C) Leave her daily offerings of granola and English toffee from the food bins.
D) Quote your favorite formula from the textbook and explain how it'snow your mantra.
E) Show her how example 17b could have been solved with 34 fewer lines of code.

7.Which of the following expresses Google's over-arching philosophy?
A) "I'm feeling lucky"
B) "Don't be evil"
C) "Oh, I already fixed that"
D) "You should never be more than 50 feet from food"
E) All of the above

8.How many different ways can you color an icosahedron with one of three colors on each face?
(ote: "An icosahedron is not-necessarily a regular 20-facedpolyhedron! Examples include the regular icosahedron, Jessen'sorthogonal icosahedron, rhombic icosahedron, 18-sided prism, 19-sidedpyramid, or 10-sided dipyramid..." am I a geek?.)
What colors would you choose?

9.This space is intentionally blank. Please fill it with something thatimproves upon emptiness.


10.On an infinite, two-dimensional, rectangular lattice of 1-ohmresistors, what is the resistance between two nodes that are aknight's move away?

11.It's 2pm on a sunny Sunday afternoon in the Bay Area. You're minutesfrom the Pacific Ocean, redwood forest hiking trails and world classcultural attractions. What do you do?

12.In your opinion, what is the most beautiful math equation ever derived?

13.Which of the following is NOT an actual interest group formed by Google employees?
A) Women's basketball B) Buffy fans C) Cricketeers D) Nobel winners E) Wine club

14.What will be the next great improvement in search technology?

15. What is the optimal size of a project team, above which additionalmembers do not contribute productivity equivalent to the percentageincrease in the staff size?
A) 1
B) 3
C) 5
D) 11
E) 24

16.Given a triangle ABC, how would you use only a compass and straightedge to find a point P such that triangles ABP, ACP, and BCP haveequal perimeters? (Assume that ABC is constructed so that a solutiondoes exist.)

17.What's the coolest hack you've ever written?

18.'Tis known in refined company, that choosing K things out of N can bedone in ways as many as choosing N minus K from N: I pick K, you the remaining.
Find through a cooler bijection, where you show a knack uncanny, of making your choices contain all K of mine. Oh, for pedantry: let K be no more than half N.

19.What number comes next in the sequence: 10, 9, 60, 90, 70, 66, ?
A) 96
B) 10 to the 100th power
C) Either of the above
D) None of the above

20.In 29 words or fewer, describe what you would strive to accomplish ifyou worked at Google Labs.

If you do answer this then you can expect an email in the following format :

"Dear Problem Solver,

Thanks for taking the time to play with our little brain-teaser and forsending us your solution. While you won't find a confirmation of theanswer in this email, we did want to let you know that your message wasreceived and that we'll be taking a look at it. If you submitted a resume,we'll be spending some time with that as well. If it seems like theremight be a fit with a position we have open, we'll contact you within thenext few days.

And as for the answer to the puzzle, we'll post the ads and the solutionon our site within a couple of months, after those who are a little slowerthan you have had a chance to work on it a bit longer.

Thanks again foryour interest in Google.

The Google Labs Engineering Team"

Thursday, September 23, 2004


"We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life,when all that we need to make us happy is something to be enthusiastic about." - Einstein

The above statement seems to be true in my case.I do have the comfort and luxury needed for a person of my stature.These days I am chronically depressed and irritated at the same time.I am depressed I dont have anything in my pipeline or around me that I am enthusiastic about.I am irritated because I am unable to adapt to the changing environment around me.Growing up does not seem to be my cup of tea.I have a hard time accepting some things that routinely gets accepted in the workplace.I cannot stand two traffic jams (one to work,one to school)

I am seeking desperately some change to be brought about in my life.Something that could excite me or atleast engage me.Something that makes me feel Alive. People like me get bored too easily.I have to slow down and breathe in.I got to regenrate myself.Somehow this seems more difficult this time (I do this routinely and probably jinxed myself by bragging about it recently!)

I think probably in the next fornight something might light up my days.I can do this.I can bounce back.I can get back my groove and in fact I was told I am not losing my edge but rather becoming too sharp.Enough said.For the moment I console myself with these Alan Parson's lyrics :

"I know the truthBut I can't sayAnd I have to turn my headAnd look the other way

I'm not afraid And I won't lie, As long as I see no wrongI won't need to testify

I breathe the air While they're running in a rat race

Way above it allStanding on higher ground

I feel the blowBut I don't speak

And I have to close my eyes Pretending I'm asleep

Well I see the tears But I don't cry As long as I do no wrong I don't need an alibi

I see the world And I'm looking from a high place

Way above it allStanding on higher ground"