wish you were here

Same blog, new address

2009-03-11T00:48:00.003-05:00

I have given in to the temptation to move to Wordpress. Unlike, many other people, I do not have much complain with blogger. It allowed me to what I want to do efficiently and cleanly. But, just that I wanted a change. I might, probably will, come back to this address after a few years on wordpress...

But still, this blog, is going to remain special for me. It is like your first home. I have stayed in so many different homes, but still the Vishal apartment in Kolkata is the special home that I always remember about. But you do have to move on!

So, the new link is http://kaushiknarasimhan.wordpress.com

The comments on my blog is what is keeping me wanting to blog more. So, people who do come and read here, please don't feel sad that I have changed address!

Rants

2009-02-23T16:06:00.008-06:00

Sometimes we have to learn about other people's miseries to realize how lucky we are. I heard a very sad news regarding a friend yesterday. It reminded me of a even sadder news that I heard sometime in December'07. Both of them, put things in perspective for me. I have always taken so many things for granted, and whined at life for small set-backs. But never have I thought back, and be grateful that the so many things that I take for granted, are probably things that so many others dream of.

Yesterday, I felt that God should share miseries more evenly. But then, the next instant, selfishly, I realized that I cannot handle such miseries, and was thankful that miseries are not shared evenly, and some people are more lucky than others.

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I am not able to, however much I try, to pick up the phone and call my married friends. And now that, I am the only "single" guy left in my whole college gang, I find it even harder. It is a mix of jealousy and a feeling of being an outsider. Right after college, we would spend hours and hours on the phone. Each of us were having different experiences and there was lots of stories to be shared. Slowly, the novelty of our newer experiences began to wear off, and the excessive analysis into career and life planning hit a plateau. The frequency of the calls dwindled, but still, enough story got piled up, when I (or they) eventually called. But, all of a sudden, within six months, all of them have gotten married, and I almost feel that I am standing on the other side of the station, a chasm between their "married" stories and my school and research experiences. I almost do not want to hear their stories, because I cannot relate to it. And, I feel that I have nothing much new to add from my side of survival for the past 2 years...

I still have not got used to this change. I hope that I get over this soon.

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Snowy days can never replace the charm of a rainy night. While reading my novel (My name is Red), I just float back to late summer evenings in Calcutta.

As the sun would start its decent, a huge bulk of ominously dark cloud will materialize in the sky. We kids, playing in the terrace, will look at it expectantly. The cloud will then start coming closer, hiding the sun. Within a few moments, the clouds fill the sky, mixing the colours of dusk, purplish and reddish in the far , gradually becoming blue, with the enticing gray of rain bearing clouds. Special effects in the form of lightning at the edge where the cloud and blue sky form a blurry boundary, and loud thunder usher in the strong breeze. The trees sway to the breeze's music, and the breeze sweeps up the dust and heat of the day. Protecting our eyes, from the sand blowing into us, our hair flowing in the breeze, we run down, just in time as the first rain-drops fall. I go to my room, switch on the light and the fan, which brings in and circulates the cool air to every-corner of my room, spreading the earthy fragrance, and start reading the amar-chitra-katha that I have been reading...

I almost feel the cool breeze and the earthy fragrance in my madison apartment, before I realize that it is snow that I see outside my window...

(photo from a blog called turquoise chill, which I found on google image search)

The PhD Journey, so far: Rest of the story

2009-02-10T22:59:00.002-06:00

I left off yesterday, having recounted my confused journey into IIT-Bombay.

Of the many things, the first semester there inspired me, was to learn. Even now, the "research-bug" is absent, but the "knowledge bug" is there. I feel, there is a subtle difference among the two, I love attending classes, and working out assignments and tests. The goal there is clear in front of me: to learn the concept. The bigger picture is also there, these concepts are useful in practice, there are companies out there, which use this knowledge to do what they do. But, when it comes to research, the bigger picture is on a much larger canvass, and I have failed to grasp it in totality.[1]

Research was a new thing, that I had never tried before, and I dived into it, in my 2nd semester at IIT. Alongside, with this new-found passion for "learning", I spent a lot of time on the coursework, dissecting it and learning much more from it that was taught in the class.

The God of Confusion, was not too pleased with me, and decided to muddle me up again.

One of the positives out of RVCE that I took with me, was the fun and excitement and satisfaction I got, involving myself in organizing events. The placement coordinator work that Parry and I got to do, was perhaps the icing on the cake. Perhaps, the most satisfying moment in my life, was the night, after getting the job, when RP came and hugged me, and thanked me for my efforts that day.

Towards the end of the second-semester, I saw the notice for M.Tech Placement Nominee for IIT. On a whim, I applied. I had not given much thought to placements after coming to IIT, nor had I any idea about the placement scenes for Masters student in the campus. I had, no idea, about the enormity of the job either. Placement team work in RV, had given me some ideas about recruiting practices in India, and I thought, they would probably be useful in IIT aswell.

I almost forgot about the interiew as well. On the day of the interview, I was told to come to the placement office, and I did not know where it was. I asked a random student on campus and got to the interview. Somehow, I managed to impress the panel, even though, I hardly knew about the responsibilities that I would be getting into. Later that evening, when I came to know that I had actually gotten the job, I really drowned in the excitement. It was supposed to be one of the most important student jobs in the campus, I was in a position of extreme responsibility and had a chance to make a difference in the campus.

Over the summer, and slowly over the fall semester, placement work started taking the priority. I was occupied for long parts of the day, making calls to companies, speaking with alumni, HR, other contacts, meeting professors, making arrangements for pre-placement-talks, coordinating our team etc etc. It was becoming, nearly a full time job. More than one weeknights were also spent meeting with the team to discuss what to do, how to do etc. It was fun and I was immensly enjoying it.

During the free time that I had, I worked on research, and churned out a few ideas, wrote some code and did some analysis. It did not turn out to be top-grade research, but was much better than satisfactory. In hindsight, I think, the work was good, because, I dedicated a much lesser time to it, and concentrated only on research during that time. Now, that I have to be a researcher 24X7, my mind drifts to thousand other things, and I end up writing posts like this!

Listening to PPT's of almost all companies that visit the campus, the efforts to plan, organize and coordinate a placement procedure for 1000 students, instilled a false confidence in me, that I will be very good in the corporate world. But, it was not to be, and for various reasons, I was not considered by around 5-6 companies that I applied to, during the first week of placements.

Sometime amidst this placement duties, my "interest" had drifted towards work again. I had taken a lot of math and statistics courses during my 2nd and 3rd semester, and I wanted to work for one of the statistics/math based companies. After the first week, interview fiasco, I decided to look for jobs in companies that have refused to come to campus, but was working in the general area that I was interested in. I needed references in my resume, and wanted to use a few contacts of my advisers in applying for some of the companies.

I approached them for this, after a pretty lengthy joint meeting, discussing the work. That started a 1 hour lecture session by Prof SCP and VP, urging me to take up PhD. Within an hour, they had decided the people I should look to work with in the US (and they are the biggest names in my research area here), and offered to write incredible reccommendations for me, and also decided to put up personal notes of reccommendation to the biggies in the US. I never had such confidence in myself, as my advisers had in my skills.

When people you respect the most in the world, give you advice, you do not discard it, and I was off to Belgaum to get my UG university transcripts in a week and apply for a PhD. The speed at which all this happend still amazes me. I met my advisers, probably on 10/12/06, and I was done with my applications by 25/12/06. Placements had a 10 day break in december, and in that window, I finished applying to grad school. Anyone who has applied can guess how quick that was!

Deja vu!!!

A year before, I had no coherent reason to join IIT. There was the instinct to take up masters after the interview. And in 12/06, the same instinct, peppered by my adviser's advice.

The UW admit came in January, and the wheels were turning for my departure to grad school in the US.

The last semester in Madison, was pretty bad, and I saw myself recreating many "what-if" I had done that kind of questions. I could not put together long stretches of time at work, and began to question my instinctive decision again.

Twice, I had given up jobs to be in academics. Twice, I had decided in the last moment to get to graduate school. And after four years into grad school, at two different places, being advised by two really great people in the field that I am working in, I still do not know, if I made the wrong decision twice, or the correct one twice.

I seriously contemplated dropping off, and finally get that job, that I have been yearning for. But, I know, I will not be able to do it, because I am still stuck in-between. I will miss school and research in a job, and I will yearn for a real world job in school.

_______________
[1]I know that the trick is to understand that developments is the sum total of many researcher's efforts. I know that the small simulations that I work with, will present a clearer insight into the problem, and somewhere down the line, the results will actually be used to do something practical and useful. Still, the fact that I am not working on a "real" world problem rankles me. At the same time, the "idea" driving my research project prods me, because, somewhere, far far away in time, there may be a practical implementation. This dichotomy, shows it's nasty face, now and again, urging me to drop research and look for jobs in the industry using contemporary tools to solve today's problems sometimes and urging me to invest my skills in developing novel tools to solve tomorrow's problems some-other times. The sad part is, neither of the urges is the clear winner, giving me a creepy feeling that had I been working someplace now, I would have written a similar post.

The PhD journey, so far! : Part-1

2009-02-09T22:26:00.005-06:00

I have been writing my prelim report all week, and it is due on the 16th. If I pass this prelim, I will be well on my way to get a PhD (and if not, I still have another shot at it).

But I have never been one of those "research" types. One of those PhD types, who eat-sleep and drink research, get excited with good as well as bad results, have ideas brewing inside them all the time. Neither am I one of those types- no job, recession, lets do a PhD. I have been stuck in the middle, alternating between an irresistible urge to work on my research, and an unstoppable urge of not wanting to do anything with research.

I still recall, a long after dinner walk sometime in 2003, just finishing 4th semester of engineering, defending my non-interest in CAT/GATE/GRE, and a great desire to get a job. And, I still remember people, trying to talk me into one of the three exams, promising that with my "talent", I will breeze through them. I recall, sitting in front of Electrical engineering, discussing about "our calling", and how there are "tech-guys" and "management-guys". But, this did not much change my decision, and I still wanted a to take up a job. Infact, I remember, talking about not being much interested in an MBA either, because, I never knew understood what the "management type" was except that they were the "I did not like engineering type". Things got much simpler, when Appa refused to give me the 16,000 for IMS (which in afterthought, was great, I would have prepared with half-an-heart, and that is no good). I also never got the "research bug", with uninspiring teaching in the department and a syllabus that hardly whets your analytic skills, but got my hands dirty with some technical reading with a couple other people who were pretty sure that research was the way to go and were trying to work on some projects to get a good admit.

Some "events" transpired in February-March 2004, and slowly I drifted out of one friend circle and into another, from the "CAT" gang, to the "GRE" gang. This is where, the first burst of impulse stuck me, and I decide that I will go to America. But unlike, the friends who were applying with me, I had hardly thought about the prospect. Everyone in the hostel, were on one side or the other, MS or MBA, preparing with word-lists and quants and stuff like that. Such stuff was needed for placements too, and I decided that I will go the "GRE" way . Although it was the much expensive proposition, MBA was an unkonwn entity, and I did not know if I would like it or not. Atleast, I was sure, I will not dislike a MS.

We had done thermodynamics in our 5th semester, and some of the models really impressed me. I put a special effort to learn parts of it which were unnecessary for passing the VTU exam, but evoked interest in me, because there were some algorithms listed in the book to solve those equations. So, Thermodynamics became my research interest. Over the 6th semester, my newer GRE enthu friend circle, motivated and pushed me to study for the GRE, to read up on interesting technical stuff. We wrote the GRE over the 6th semester break, and came back with apping on our minds. In the meantime, I landed up a job with CTS. I still was not sure about the whole America thing, but researched universities along with friends, always telling myself, finding out does not mean I will apply. But, I got carried away, and when we found out that universities do not offer funding for MS, decided that PhD is the way to go.

GATE, came in the middle, pretty much out of nowhere. My enthu gang of friends were the only ones in the whole MS enthu gang in the hostel to actually write the exam. Preparation for GATE was an even bigger joke. The three of us, prepared for exactly 2 hours, and almost directly from the exam center, we boarded the Karnataka express for a Delhi/Rajasthan/Agra holiday.

Surprisingly, I was the first to land up with an admit to the USA. Even more surprisingly, the three of us and Haddi, managed to get great GATE ranks as well. My other friends had not gotten admissions yet, and so we decided to apply to IIT-Bombay. I had totally forgotten about interview calls, when PJ, checking for his interview calls, spotted my name on the IIT-B website. And, I was on my way to Mumbai for the interview.

The may interview was actually the first time, I really felt that, I could grasp technical stuff (VTU exams just test how well you can memorize), when, I almost derived a not-so-intutive result with casual egging on by the interviewers. To boost my confidence further, I was put in the top-10 of the selected list (and that was huge jump, because the weight was to GATE rank and interview performance, and my rank was the last rank to be admitted). IIT was a huge huge dream, and I had decided to take that up, almost immediately. Still, long discussions about India/US higher education scene etc etc, ate up my evenings.

I flew into Bombay in July-2005, to live my IIT dream, and there I was, getting a MTech degree. Thinking back, there was hardly a coherent reason, that I could think of, which made me take a MS/PhD decision during the RVCE days, or made me not to accept the CTS job.

The first semester in IIT, stretched me to my limits, and I learned that I have a passion for mathematics, thanks to Prof SCP's class. I seemed to have impressed the professors (those who interacted with me) too, and the seminar that we had to give by reading a few papers, whetted my appetite for more mathematics related course. SCP's advance controls class in Spring fit the bill.

The story of 2006 and '07 and my landing in Madison : Next installment!!

Reviews

2009-02-05T00:06:00.001-06:00

A Suitable Boy:
By way of a review, all I can say is that this book is like a great recipe, with loads of flavors and layers of taste. It will evoke almost every emotion that you are capable of, just like a great recipe pokes at all your taste buds.

It is more than a 1000 pages, but un-put-downable. There were days, when I was sitting in my office and staring at my monitor, with all thoughts on what is going to happen next in the book. And, I finished it in a spurts of reading, 6-7 hours together to breeze past 300 pages, and feel sad that there are 300 pages less to read of this most engrossing book.

Almost immediately as I finished the book, I have elevated it to the top-5 books that I have ever read.

And, I have a nagging feeling, that the next time I am going to read this book (and I am sure I will read it again), it is going to affect me in a totally different way, and that is because the book grapples with lots of issues, and lots of different characters in different phases of maturity. Depending on your emotional status when you read the book, different characters are going to tug your heart and evoke different reactions to the same events.

The first time, my heart went out to Maan, just because he was totally lost for direction in life.

The Zoya Factor
You cannot ask for more from Desi Chic-Lit. It was a breezy read, and am sure, will come out as a movie in a cinema nearby very soon. I have never read a chic-lit book before, but now, I kind of see why people like to read them...

The Peacock Throne
This book blew hot and cold. It is about politics in Chandni chowk, and the story pushes itself through disaster days of Indian history- The '84 riots, Mandal commission, 6th December and a demolition drive in Chandni chowk in '96. If for 500 of the 700 page book, you don't see the story develop, and what keeps you reading on is the blurb on the backpage. The anticipation of how he would make the blurb happen was what kept me reading through writing that was becoming progressively banal. And to make a laborious 500 page read even worse, was the lame ending in the last 50 or pages. The intricately entwined threads in the story add to nothing.

Laborious book, ambitious story, which could have been better executed. The outstanding part was the '84 riots chapter. It was almost as-if someone else took over the book after that.

R.K. Narayan Omnibus
He is definitely the master. No doubt. I had been sporadically introduced to him before, the story about the mailman in the 10th standard English books, the T.V serials (that were brilliant, almost bringing Malgudi to life), and then a collection of Malgudi days stories.

It was his brilliant but under-rated novel, "Waiting for the Mahatma", that made me wanting more of him. But, that was not to be, and the next R.K.Narayan book that I picked up was "The English Teacher".

I did not know about the autobiographical references in The English Teacher, much after I read it, and the second half (of his spiritual quest to understand the loss of his wife) was quite lost on me, but the first half, stands out, and the picture of the idyllic life in Malgudi, the care-free bachelor days, his efforts to make something out of his education (other than teaching), the adjustment to married life, the happiness of the couple, will always stay with me.

His writing says so much, paints such a detailed picture, and is yet so simple. Personally, RKN's writing is the exact opposite pole of Sulman Rushdie, but they seem to achieve similar results: transport you into the world of the book so efficiently.

The omnibus that I got had the novel "A man-eater for malgudi", the novella "Talkative man" and a collection of malgudi stories (including the famous astrologer story). All the three parts of the book, had the same thread: simplicity, and a story out of everyday people, the ones that you are likely to meet on the road. The manner in which the printing press owner, Natraj, jumps to the worst possible outcome, in the most logical way, reminded me of Amma, and also that, thinking like that is so human. It made the charachter Natraj human for me. And, I loved the almost anti-climaxical ending, because anything more dramatic would have stood out of the book, it ended as ordinarily as the descriptions of everyday life that it painted for most of the book. Absolutely brilliant.

The settings got simpler and the story even simpler (if that could happen), as the talkative man accosts the strange suit cladded Dr Rann, and contemplates his moves when he has proof to beileve that Dr Rann is duping a local girl. This novella, highlighted the best thing that I love about short stories. You do not have to lay out the charachter, the threads of the story, tiny happenings, 40 years before, to finally uncover the main theme of the novel. You jump into a life, and observe the story in the short story. And, the ambiguity of the remaining life of the charachter, of how she got into that situation, of how his life is going to be changed beyond it, is the magic of the story.

RKN precisely, gets that charm working perfectly in the short stories. From the highly acclaimed Astrologer story to the farmer who sells a statue to an American thinking he sold his goats, to the vocalist controlled by Mohan, to the story-teller who loses his voice. Each story is a gem, and as with The suitable boy, you wanted the book to be never-ending.

Tales of the unexpected
Johnny Depp's Willi wonka and the chocolate factory, made me make a mental mark that I will read up Roald Dahl. My friendly neighborhood pirated book store owner, gave me a short story collection, and a delightful little book called "The BFG". Children's stories have a separate charm, and makes me feel almost the innocent kid lost in world of fairies and giants. On coming to Madison, I was pleasently surprised when Vandana said that Dahl writes serious dark adult stuff.
This India trip, while browsing at Blossoms during my Bangalore leg of the trip, Pydah and I chanced upon Dahl's adult writing by this title. Currently, this book is my nightly read before lights off, and it has kept me hooked. The stories are like Jeffry Archer's " A twist in the tale", but much darker. Dahl sets up the story brilliantly, slowly building up the tension and anticipation, and finishing it up with a bang. The story about the homicidal wife with the lamb meat creeps you off in the end, leaving you with disbelief. I cannot wait to finish this book.

Also reading/ in transit
My name is Red

The Guide (RKN)

Of Mice and Men

Flowers for Algeron

Yearning for Mumbai

2009-01-27T17:28:00.007-06:00

In retrospect, 2006-2007 in Mumbai was almost magical. Memories really age very sweetly, and random snippets of the Mumbai days form a collage, that floats tantalizingly before me, and makes me want to take a plunge into memory, with the hope that I find myself back in Mumbai.

Having just settled into IIT, immensely enjoying the course work (having discovered a passion for mathematics, that I never knew I had), enjoying the placement team responsibilities even more, and having found (after quite a long settling period, much like a semester) a good group of friends, and along with them, impromptu plans for Dinner at Hiranandani and Chakras and Mainland China and evening jaunts into Crossword or Coffee Day or suddenly planned night shows in Huma, I had quite a packed week in IIT (not to mention, the LAN connection and a slew of movies and TV shows).
Life just after B.Tech, had taken my friends to different places. Some were working, some were pretending to work, and some were in America. But, most (including me) were earning money. All this meant that, we had money to make calls to one and all, and enough masala to keep talking. Long evening walks from the main gate to Hostel-12, late evenings in Nerul, soaking in the cool breeze and immersed in the distant noise of autos and trucks, late nights in C-110, H-12, sitting on the window sill, music playing ever so softly on my computer, looking at planes taking off and landing far out in the sky, and other H-12 inmates chatting down below, were spent talking into the phone, exchanging stories, life fundaes and dreams and ambitions and plans and the like.
(Although it was pretty irritating then) Waiting for the 524 every Friday afternoon, and getting back home, always timing the trip and looking at high tide/low tide occurrence on the Vashi bridge, and getting amazed at the beautiful drive from Mankhrud to Vashi Toll Naka. Or even, the days before I 'discovered' 524, and sticking in the train, being pushed back by the wave of people alighting at Kurla, and fighting back the hordes of people waiting to get in, or running in the foot over bridge as the Panvel train just enters Kurla and making it in just as the train pulls away.
Monsoon weekends spent sitting at the window, by the breeze, watching cricket and downing cups and cups of tea, Sunday morning eating binge, afternoon naps without the fan and with the amazing sea breeze.
Evening walks in Nerul, and the book store by the station, which 'loaned' books. The illiterate but amazing book dealer, who knew just the right books and would-be best-sellers (mostly because he knew which titles are in demand in the pirated book market)
Evening trips into Vashi and Center One, unlimited window shopping, and dinners at Navaratna or Dwaraka. Or evening trips to the Nerul Balaji temple, and the awesome view of the hills, the skyscrapers and the sea from the temple.
Mumbai Rains.
The chai and biscuit at KReSIT, and the geeky discussions there with lab mates. Night outs with Bhatta and Haddi discussing everything under the sun.
Hawaiian Shack.
The trip back to IIT on Monday mornings, following the airplanes that were landing. The bus took the route on road that the planes took by air. Of counting the airplanes and of trying to steal a glance a the logo. And dreams of being in one of them, taking me to America, and imagining the American life, staying alone, cooking, grocery shopping, potlucks, research, movies, long drives.

The grass seems to be greener on the continent that I am not in. The glorious Mumbai days, were spent, making my own 'picture' of the American life, coloured by friendly inputs during weekend calls and skype and gmail chats, online forums of students going abroad, blogs of desi's in America, and yearning for the day I will land there.

And, now that I am living that dream, the Mumbai days seem so much more glorious, so much more beautiful, so much more desirable and so much like a dream...

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I also wanted to write a extremely long post titled India Trip - Review, but realized later that the India trip memories need some more time pickling inside me, because, much in the spirit of this blog, memories from the past are much much much more romantic, and writing about them, so much more pleasing, as I can freeze frame at every tiny incident that remains in my memory and savour them. Writing about trips while they are still fresh, is not so much fun.

Closet Dreamers

2009-01-19T12:50:00.003-06:00

The Singh's welcomed the latest craze, a 32 inch flat screen HDTV , into their apartment, and being the cricket crazy family that they are, the channel flip stopped at a re-run of India's performance in the 2003 World Cup.

The re-run was at the India-England match in Durban, and memories of the extravagant Sachin pull shot off Caddick whet their appetites.

As Sachin rocked back, and majestically pulled the ball into the stands, and Ravi Shastri, started his usual recorded commentary, Nardendra Singh, let out a sigh. His 20 year old son and 17 year old daughter, immediately started mocking him, "Papa, you could have been playing in South Africa na", they said, and started smiling, disbelieving that the middle aged Narendra Singh with a big moustache, spectacles, and a huge belly, would ever have been young and fit to play cricket.

Narendra Singh, however, had travelled back to Patna in 1976.

It was those days, much before Twenty20, ODI's was just trying to become popular, and BCCI was not the cash rich bully that they are now. Cricket Academies and Coaching classes were established in the big cities and exclusive to the rich. The Indian middle class was still sleeping. For a poor small town boy, international cricket was bought home by the radio and youthful dreams of MCG and Lords.

Cricket was still not a profession then. The national team players hardly made money out of the game, and the Ranji trophy types, played because, that got them a goverment job in the sports quota.

Patna then had a few semi organized league, cricket being played on weekends, which sort of feeded cricketers into a little less shady league, and so on and so forth to the Bihar ranji squad (which was not much of a team either). Narendra Singh played in one such league.

Evening college was much the rage then, seth-lings (young boys who would inherit their father's store) and aspiring bank job seekers, could then spend the day apperenticing and get their degree in the evening, earning some money while studying. Narendra Singh was doing his BCom in an evening college, and balancing the accounts of a big Sari dealer during the day. As was common with most of the middle class service families then, Narendra Singh's income would be transferred to the college as fees. He would surreptiously save a few rupees here and there, and pool it in with 11 other friends to afford the cricket kit and the leather balls and the fees to play in the weekend league.

He used to bat down the order, but was menancingly fast with the new ball. His team, of 5 accountants in the making, the wicket keeper who was a Chemistry major, 2 bachelors from the colony who had their dreams set on IAS and 4 12th drop-outs who juggled odd jobs, had somehow managed it to one of the knock-out games.

On an uneven ground, an overcast August sky welcomed the players, and unkown to them, sitting in the crowd was a Bihar Cricket Association biggie (the opposition team had a player whose father was well connected). Narendra Singh's captain lost the toss, and was asked to bat. The swinging ball accounted for a few early wickets, and suddenly Narendra Singh was out in the middle, his team 52/7 in the 18th over, and 22 overs left in the innings. Narendra Singh's previous batting exploits were nothing great, but somehow, that August morning, the ball contrived to hit the middle of his bat. In what was to be an explosive innings in those days, Narendra Singh managed 40 runs of 55 balls before he got out. And his team were left to defend 130 in 40 overs.

After lunch, Narendra Singh steamed in, and his first ball pitched on good length and moved away from the right handed opener, who tried to block it and missed it. The second one jagged back in and trapped him in front, but the umpire was unmoved. For four overs, Narendra Singh ran in hard, and mesmerized the batsmen, but was unlucky not to have had more success than the 2 wickets that he prized out. However the other bowlers were extravagent, and the match was quickly lost.

As he got his stuff together, and waited at the bus-stop to get back home, the BCA biggie accosted him on his scooter and offered to drop him back home. On the way, Narendra Singh was made an dream offer, a chance to play for Bihar in the Ranji. The biggie, turned out to be a selector in the BCA, and was much impressed by the fast bowling and brave batting. Bihar needs an all-rounder, India needs one, he commented.

Narendra Singh was esctatic, and immediately started day-dreaming about millions of people tuning in ther radios after the afternoon lunch to listen to Narendra Singh rock the English batting in Lords. The dreams were short lived, as his dad Devendra Singh took no time in rejecting Narendra's dream. As with other 17 year olds in the 1970's, Narendra Singh understood the importance of a steady income, and the vagaries of Indian Cricket Team, it's selectors and BCCI. He gave up the dream of bowling at Lords, to more practical dreams of having his own scooter, his small apartment, wife and kids and fan and television etc.

Much to the dissapointment of the BCA biggie, Narendra Singh, remained content with college and weekend matches for his motely team, for the next 3 years. Since then, he passed the Bank selection exam, and has moved up the ladders efficiently, and lived his modest and practical dreams.

But for a few hours on that August afternoon, after that almost magical conversation with the BCA biggie, Narendra Singh was almost an India player in the making.

A smile came on the middle aged Narendra Singh's face, and he continued watching the rest of the re-run. As the TV channel cut to a break, and Pragya Sen, started jigging in the latest Bollywood movie trailer, Mrs Narendra Singh let out a sigh, and the children started, "Ya, We know ma, you could have been the biggest Bollywood heroine".

Arranged Marriage

2008-12-14T01:00:00.004-06:00

Arun Raman was like every other young man, tried hard to get into IIT, and settled for a mediocre engineering college, in a god-forsaken corner of the city, tried to differentiate himself in college, but settled to being one of the thousand Infosys recruits, and posted in another god-forsaken corner of another city. He had the IIM dreams too, and diligently traveled a hour to the coaching class every weekend, and discussed strategies and fundaes with other indistinguishable members of his club. CAT too, was a distant dream, but the hard work was rewarded as he ended up with a painfully expensive MBA from a decent place (as compared to the engineering college), and a job as Business analyst for 7lacs per annum.

He was also like every other young man, for he had resigned to the fact that his dreams of an exotic love story, woud be exactly just that: A dream of an exotic love story. He hardly met any girls in his line of work, and the few that he met, were always 'friends'.

Since starting the job two years ago, he has been getting to the 'oh-he is successful' quip from random uncles and aunties in the family. The short trip to America on business, and the car that he purchased was enough to convince Arun's amma, that he will pass the test (of having a stable job and an assured income to take care of a family) in front of prospective in-laws. He was pushing the upper age limit for successful marriages, and will be 28 in a couple of months. She convinced Mr Raman, that it was time to look for the 'bahu' of the house.

And, so they went, in Arun's new car, to the highly reccommended horoscope reader. Shanti, their next-door neighbor never forgot to mention this horoscope reader, who had found her daughter the perfect husband.

The jyotishi, was a retired bank officer, and based on a couple of perfect matches, that he had made, was becoming popular, and earning a lot of money, consulting people, who think all their lives woes are because the stars are in the wrong places in the whole vast universe, and who fool themselves to believe that this is true, because these stars have great gravitational powers.

Mr Raman, dutufully produced the date, place and time of birth of his only son to the jyotishi. The jyotishi then retired into his bedroom, to start the process of calculating where the stars and planets were, on the day of Arun's birth. The Raman's, were sipping the sherbet that Mrs. Jyotishi had offered them.

Mrs Raman was sitting passively, Arun, was on his phone, sms'ing and following the cricket (NZ vs Bangladesh), and Mr Raman, had read today's paper, and was re-reading parts of it. The calculation was taking just too long.

Finally, the jyotish comes out of the room, shaking his head, and sending shivers through Mrs Raman. She had been silently praying that the planets do not play a cruel joke on her son, but the look on the jyotish defied her powers of prayer. The jyotish, imagined himself to be the stern faced doctor in hindi movies with the task of breaking the bad news to the overly sentimental mother in the white sari. With the saddest look that he could make, he broke the news. What to do, he said, the planets have decided. He asked them to do certain pujas to please the Gods, but said that what is written cannot be un-written. Arun's life has been destined to be not-so-pleasent. Mrs Raman, did not want to assimilate the long sad life of her son, but chose to discuss the immediate ramifications of the foretelling, Arun's chances in the marriage market. And that news was not any good either.

The jyotish explained that the probabilities that the planets being placed in a way that will mitigate the cosmic joke on Arun are very less, but asked them to pray, and hope in the large population of the country.

As they were getting to leave, with resigned hearts, the jyotish, suddenly sprang up with a suggestion. Much later, he tried to analyse as to why he made that suggestion. And, he could come up with no reason. Instinctively, he asked the Ramans, to change the time of birth. The planets will be much favourable then, he said. Surprised with such a suggestion coming from the jyotish, they walked away, muttering something about considering it.

Later in the evening, the family got into consulation, calls were made to relatives and friends, soliciting advice. Ethical and religious questions needed to be answered, and the self needed to be convinced of the cosmic stunt that was being planned. Finally, Jaipur mama, was able to convince them to forge the horoscope. A marriage can be made by telling thousand lies, he said.

Mr and Mrs Raman, now found a new passtime, sifting through the profiles of prospective matches, jaunting upto the jyotish to match the horoscopes. Initially, they secretly wanted the original horoscope matched, but gave up after they realized the improbabiltiy of it. Mr Raman, decided to organize the search, and used his newly learnt computer skills to good effect. And, in good time, dinner time discussions were about the merits and demerits of different girls, their profiles, and wild imaginations and theory of why she is the one, or why not!

Soon, Arun, was asked to send emails to a few girls, and asked to talk to them and decide. He juggled dates for a while, and sped around town in his car from a coffee day meeting to a dinner date, to movies and stuff, with different girls. It seemed it was all a blur and dream for him. But, then the pressure increased too, with his parents on his tail everyday, forcing him to decide. All he wanted, was more time with each of them.

But, slowly, he rejected some, and others rejected him, and Arun got back to dreaming exotic love stories. Then, on New years eve, as he headed for a party with his friends, Mrs Raman, showed him Pooja's photo. She said, that this was a good match. Arun, took a look, and instantly, instinctively, took a liking to Pooja. Amma asked him to drop her a mail, and he did it the next day.

The next few days, Arun checked his inbox continuously, checked the 'to' address of the mail he sent a million times a day, and saw his hopes drained, with no mail coming from her. This must be the sad fate that the jyotish talked about, he thought.

Fate had other plans, and Pooja mailed back, after a week, apologizing in every sentence. She had been on a holiday with friends. She said, she liked his photo that her mother had given her, and was 'interested' in trying to see if this can work out. Arun, added her on gtalk, and waited patiently for a green bulb next to her name. They chatted along, on gtalk for a while, about this and that, and decided to meet.

The meeting was magical, and instinctively, Arun and Pooja were dreaming about their marriage. And over the next few meetings, the love blossomed, and they were behaving like a couple out of college.

But, this gave Arun a headache. The small matter of forged horoscopes was eating him. He liked her, and did not care about it, but, he felt that such matters could be fatal later. He did not want the original horoscope to dictate his life, and decided that, it is better setting things straight in person.

On a balmy friday evening, he went to Pooja's place, and confessed about the forged horoscope and about the depressing life, his true horoscope predicted. Pooja's face lost her smile, and her mother, let out a gasp, and a shocked 'WHAT', but instantly, she calmed down, and a wry smile sprung on her face. The smile then became laughter, and Pooja and her dad joined in. Arun looked bewildered.

In a sigh of relief, Pooja's mother admitted to forging Pooja's horoscope too.

Indeed, it was a match ordained by fate, and the marriage preparations began.

Super cool

2008-11-15T22:53:00.001-06:00

Coldplay- Live in Concert, St Paul
Driving all night, listening to DCH dialogs
Badgers game at Camp Randall

Absolutely fantabulous weekend :)

Flight to freedom

2008-11-03T01:38:00.005-06:00

She looked out of her window.

The lone street-lamp lit up a small patch of the space, and she watched snowflakes dance in the light as if fell, slowly, swirling, as if never wanting to touch the ground.

On a whim, she wore her winter jacket and gloves and cap, opened the window, and let the cold wind touch her.

Simon and Garfunkel were singing on her iPod, 'I am a rock, I am an island...', and a brave man, or a desperate man, drove past in his SUV on the road.

She froze time around her. She rewound time, and saw the last 4 years, in reverse.

The iPod shifted to Coldplay singing 'You've been living life inside a bubble...'.

The voice of insanity, the voice of hope, the voice of adventure, the voice of instinct, the small voice deep inside her heart, spoke again.

This time, she listened.

She had waited enough for the moment that will change everything to come. She decided that this was the moment.

She unfroze time, got onto the website, and got those tickets to freedom.

The iPod, shifted seamlessly to Rahman singing 'Yeh jo des hai tera...'

MA-521

2008-10-29T21:26:00.003-05:00

What a huge difference, a tiny error can make. Not only in the theorem that I had to prove in an exam, but in a making me realize that I should trust my instincts more.

Hmm, I ran away from a challenge. I just dropped out of a course that I wanted to do badly, because of a bad mid-term. I chickened.

But, to be frank (and also because, I am always right on my blog), I should have seen this coming. My instinct told me to drop the class, the first day I attended it, because the professor was not that great.

And that instinctive feel of something bad happening in the course, kept following me to class. And the classes became more and more boring, for what is an really interesting subject.

And halfway into the semester, I was getting nothing out of the classes, and was studying all by myself.

I guess I should have followed my instincts. Nevertheless,
1. Feel really low to have chickened out.
2. Lesson learnt: Trust your instincts. Somewhere deep inside, I had lost hope with finishing the course on the first day itself.

I firmly believe, everything happens for something good. I did not feel quite right learning with the professor teaching the course. I will take it again sometime, and learn it the right way.

And, if I had understood the theorem the properly, I would have been sitting happily with a good grade. But at the same time knowing that I haven't learned much and learned correctly.

Well. Lets hope that this does not complicate my prelims.

The best Diwali ever!

2008-10-26T04:52:00.004-05:00

As kids growing up in Calcutta, Diwali was of-course loads of fun, but it presented a strange dichotomy.
Any 2nd,3rd,4th standard kid would write "Diwali is the festival of lights. It is the celebration of good versus evil. It is celebrated by wearing new clothes and exchanging sweets with relatives and bursting crackers".

And for us, Diwali was just the new clothes and crackers. In Calcutta, till '92, when we lived in Bhaktiarshah road, we would wake up early morning, for the Ganga Snanam. Amma would then call out to Radhika Aunty across the road, and ask that question : "Ganga Snanam aacha". At 6, we will go to Vichcha Thatha's house (he was thatha's cousin) and wish them Diwali and have breakfast there. Later, when we moved to Vishal, it would be the ganga-snanam, followed by watching Kannukudi Vyadinathan play the violin on Sun TV, and then hot idlis for breakfast, and then spending time chatting up before going to Vichcha Thatha's house.

The highlight was, quite unsurprisingly, the evening, the cracker time.

Growing up, as kids, we never understood the charm of visiting relatives and exchanging sweets line that we never failed to forget to write in the exams.

That was to change with '98 Diwali.

As with everything appa, it would be a surprise. He comes back from office in the evening one day, and proposes a visit to Madras for Diwali ( something, that surprisingly, we had never done, the whole time we had been in Calcutta, around 15 years then). Vids and I, obviously supported the idea. Amma, was being practical, and thought about the expenses and the tickets and all such things, that never bothers us kids.

But as with everything appa, he had made his mind. The next day, he got the tickets (both ways) on the Diwali Special Train to Madras.

And, there it was, out of the blue, a Diwali with relatives.

But the excitement began a whole long time earlier. There was Tatha, Patti, Seetha patti, Ambi Thahta, Chitti, Chittappa, Periappa, Perima, Bharath, Lakshmi, Vivek, Athai Patti, Ramu mama, Visalam Mami, Delhi Patta aka Thathi, and Vinitha in Madras. And, we were getting new dress for each one of them. All this means, huge doses of Shopping. And, it was ultimate fun.

Train journey in October is loads of fun. And, that time, I always liked spending time in the train, and secretly wished that the train got late, so that I could enjoy more time in the train. As a sign of the perfectness of the visit, the train got 6 hours late, and pulled into Madras Central at 1 AM in the morning. Periappa was waiting for us, and I got to see a cell-phone for the first time.

We had reached, probably a couple of days before Diwali, and the next day, was spent planning for the day. Mama came one of those days, and took us to TNagar, to get us new dresses. The day before, we went to Koyambedu market to get vegetables and stuff for the Diwali feast. Later in the evening, Appa took us to the Cracker shop for buying the crackers.

Appa generally has a budget for crackers. Every year the prices increase, but the budget does not increase proportionally. In '98 however, it seemed he had infinite pockets. I would have never imagined that he would get us that many crackers. That, he was definitely in a different mood altogether was when he got us Rockets, something that he steadfastly refused to get us for the past so many years.

In the evening, we presented the new clothes to everyone. Kept it before GOD, and amma and chitti and patti, put small dots of haldi and kumkum on the clothes. And we went to sleep excited beyond words can describe.

Next morning, after the bath, Thatha and Patti gave their blessings and the new clothes, which we wore and promptly went to the terrace for the cracker session. This was the first time we were bursting crackers at the crack of dawn.

The highlight of the cracker bursting session was Appa and Chittappa, fighting like kids on the best way to send a rocket skywards. After procuring, a bottle from downstairs, there was a heated discussion, on the exact angle at which the rocket has to be placed inside the bottle, to attain maximum elevation. That fight, is a standing joke even now, and we never fail to laugh out loud, whenever the Diwali of '98 and that fight is discussed.

Later, we went to Justice Sundaram road, to Periappa's house for breakfast and lunch. Some more crackers were burst then. The Diwali bhakshanam was devoured. Appa, Thatha and Chittappa and Periappa got to watching TV, reading papers and discussing stuff. Amma, and the ladies got working on preparing the feast, and us cousins, got to playing cricket and other games.

Later, after the sumptuous meal, we had a photo session and then we went to greet Athai patti.

The whole day was magical, and special. Although, the sequence of events were the same as every other Diwali, we had discovered the "magical ingredient", the essence of the festival. Of being together with the family. Of sharing jokes sitting together eating. . Of Thatha's stories and Appa and Chittappas effort to better each others joke. Of sharing Calcutta school stories in exchange of Madras school stories.

Of the whole three generations in the family, being at the same place.

And the other thing magical thing was forgetting life, suspending reality for day. Things were not real happy in Madras. There were some family troubles brewing and tensions raising all year in Madras. But for that one day, everything was forgotten, happiness was summoned and Good times were ordered.

And, that, to me is the magic of festivals. Family. Food. Happiness (even if for just a day).

The answer that we wrote in 4th standard was now complete.

Later, in the evening, we went to Nanganallur to Ramu Mama's home. Mami had prepared pulav and other such delicacies. Mama, had gotten an amazing array of fancy crackers, that light up the sky, and the 10000 wallah, that continues and continues for half an hour.

It was the perfect evening to finish of the perfect day.

As it everything perfect, it stays, for a long time as an ideal. Something, that gets increasingly hard to achieve. Thatha passed away in '99, and patti was bed-ridden since then. Seetha Patti and Ambi Thatha moved to Mysore. I was stuck in Engineering College in Bangalore, and then when Appa, Amma were in Bombay, Vidya was stuck in Chennai, and now I am stuck in a place that does not even celebrate Diwali. And, the perfect Diwali has never been repeated.

But the memory serves the festival's purpose, as I sit here in Madison, after spending a fun evening with friends, and the great food that Janani's mom made.

The memories, bring back the happiness and the promise of hope of future special Diwali's to come.

Wish you all a Fantabulous and happy and safe DIWALI.

Enjoy!!!!!

With Thatha and Patti as Tiny-tots!

With Thatha, Patti and Cousins on the Perfect Diwali

Chasing Dreams

2008-10-19T15:48:00.003-05:00

He parked his Mercedes and walked into the office in an impeccable suit. His employees all stood up, and wished him a good morning and he walked briskly into his office, nodding his head all along.

He buzzed for his secretary, and she read out the days schedule to him. He had a meeting with the Minister for Urban development today and a meeting with his biggest competitor to discuss about some market standards. Later, he had to address the media about his latest project. He also had a board meeting sandwiched between these events. Finally, she reminded him about his reservation at The Park hotel in the evening with his wife and kids.

The vision of his secretary began to shake, as his mother shook his body, urging him to wake up. He opens his eyes, sits, and rubs his eyes hard, as he adjusts to reality.

He sees, his baby sister sleeping peacefully, his elder brother brushing his teeth, and amma shouting at him, about getting ready for school. The cooker lets out a shrill whistle in the background. He asks, where is appa. Amma says that he has gone to work. I hardly see Appa these days, he is always working. Amma, says that the times are hard, and appa has to work two jobs to make ends meet.

He brushes his teeth, takes his shower, and gets dressed up. The brothers leave for school. As soon as they are out of Amma's vision, his brother, runs into the nearby mechanic shop, to play with his friends there. He looks for a second into the shop, thinks about bunking school to play with his friends. He stops, confused for a minute. And, then he walks towards his school.

He has dreams to chase.

Grad Talk

2008-10-19T00:47:00.004-05:00

So, it is Parry's wedding today. Swami and I were just chatting in the evening.

Me: Swami, It is my friends wedding today. He would be sitting on the horse right now.

Swami: Wow! and look at you...your friend is getting married, and what are you doing! You disappoint me

(BTW, this is Swami's stock dialog)

Me: What am I doing! I am simulating myself sitting on a horse

Swami: (in a deeep philosophical tone)..Ya! I know, Our life has become a simulation!

Both of us: ROTFL-ing !!

Congrats Parry-boy!!!!

The question

2008-10-12T22:21:00.003-05:00

He looked at diary and sighed. There was no need to read what was written. Memories are strange, he thought, as clear visions in sepia flooded in, transporting him back to Kolkata, then Calcutta.

It was the first day of the IIT classes. And, he was lost in the bylanes of South Calcutta, looking for the house number 1402, to let himself to be tutored by the best Math teacher in the city. Surprisingly, the address of a man so popular was so obscure. He, then saw, an equally confused her, walking down the other side of the road, and then he noticed the puchka waalah, standing at the corner. He and just moments later, she, reached the puchka waalah, and blurted out the same question at the same moment. The puchka waalah did not know, but now, they were partners in searching.

That's how they met.

When you meet an unknown 11th standard student searching for an IIT-JEE math tutor, you just ask two questions. Which board? How much did you get in the boards. He asked her. She said, CBSE and 411. The coincidence surprised him. Friendship blossoms in the most unlikeliest of situations.

Time flies when you are in 11th. And, with time swirling, the bond grew, in trams and the share autos, at the friendly chowmein store accross the tution centre, at Ekdalia evergreen sarbojonin pujo, at the book fair, and at Vibes and and over the phone.

The IIT fiasco, left them both attending different colleges in Chennai. And for anyone not knowing any Tamil, Chennai is a nightmare. Hostel, was no home away from home either, with sambhar and rasam everyday and 99.99% telegu population. A known friend, in a sea of unkown is a solace, and every saturday, he would make his way through the city to meet her, and return, to his room-mates asking him about his girl-friend, and he would spend the evening, convincing that they are just friends.

As he took his shower, he wondered, how time loses essential details in the story. About, how you remember the event, but you forget, the thread of events and thoughts that lead to it.

That's precisely, how he remembers, the long bus journey to her college. Of, how, suddenly, she felt all different, a touch too special, as the best-est friend. But she was still casual, chatting about labs, about the movies, about the good-ol' calcutta days, about the books that they were reading. In the sepia-tinged flashback playing in his memory, there was a golden hue around her on that saturday. And the next. And the one after that. (Her sepia tinged memory still was sepia tinged)

There are some events that you just remember more. And, the memory time, contrives this by making that memory so slow comparitively, that everything else seem to be the duration of a lightning strike.

The evening on the Coromandel express was that memory for him. Time had come to a standstill.

The semester (which one?) was over, and they were on the train back home. He was in the hot sleeper coach, and she in the relative comfort of the air-conditioned ones.

It was dusk, when he walked into her A-2 coach.

The sun was setting, as the train sped past Ankapalli station. The paddy fields, green till infinity swayed in the light breeze, the setting sun painted a golden hue accross the sky, the hills just beyond, played with your vision, purple images of hills, flirted alternately with your belief and disbelief that they exist. And, through the other window, the long highway that jogs parallely with the tracks, and a lone bus, overflowing to the brim chugging along, falling behind the train continuously, till you lose sight of it, and just beyond that, a temple atop a small hill, with lighting on it, a carnival about to begin. And, all this, seen through the muted doors of the AC coach, with a slow periodic AC hum in the background, and a muffled sound of the train speeding. It almosts disconnects one from the scenery around, until, another train shouts past, and the increasing horn of the other train, and the noises of the other train speeding, revives you.

Over the din of such a train going in the oppositte direction, he proposed to her. The train went past, and once again, the disbelief of the coach set in. The disbelief reflected on her face, as she asked him to leaver her alone.

Later in the night, Vishakapatnam came and went. The train reversed directions there. Suddenly, you feel that it is retracing the route back to Madras, undoing the journey of the day in the night, but then, there is no undoing. It just goes on a new path, and the older one moves farther and farther away.

Late in the night, he was standing by the door of his S-6, smoking his last ciggarette for a month (his parents did not know about it). Inside, people settled in to sleep, trying to forget the heat of the resin berths that they were on, trying first,to be oblivious of the sound of the train speeding, and slowly sleeping to the periodicity of the sound, and then to be rudely awakened, when the train pulls into the station and the sound dies. The night lamps were on, and except for the bright light at the two ends of the coach, everything inside was dark.

Everything outside was dark too. Darkness engulfed the feeble attempts of the moon and the billion stars to brighten the night. Darkness engulfed the paddy fields, and the road, and the hills far away. And the bright lights of the town far away, looked surreal, out of place. Periodically, small stations flashed by, with just a light on the name of the station, indicating the exsistence of a village.

He stared into the darkness, and tried to figure out the fields and the houses. He stared into the darkness and searched for meaning. She came to him, and told him, casually, matter-of-factly, that she does not reciprocate his feelings, the she had never thought him to be anything else but a friend. She walked away, as he continued to gaze into the darkness.

As he dressed up, he wondered, about the feeble attempts at forging the relationship again, till, one day, he (and her) just stopped trying. His life, also, tried to retrace back, but was foreced to go on a different path.

He put the diary back inside, stuffed the memories back in, put on the smile. And, convinced himself that he had to be happy. Afterall, it was Pentane's wedding. Pentane was marrying his best friend for God knows how long, and as he backed his car out of the driveway, he pondered, once again at the question.

What/ Where is the line between good friends, best friends and that someone special?

2008-10-06T22:49:00.006-05:00

Years ago, I started contemplating. That was the beginning of the end.

It was early February in 2002. I had just broken my hand, and was learning my way around the infinitely many tasks that needed to be done, so that I could salvage a couple of university exams using a scriber (so I would dictate and he would write my exam).

So, that day, I went around Bangalore, talking to people, getting request letters signed et al. Finally, late in the evening, armed with the permission letter and the modified admit card and all the other official papers for writing the exam, I walked into a small restaurant called Chulha in Jaynagar, along with Suku, who had come with me to help me out and give me company.

We ordered the usual stuff, and were generally chatting about stuff. Slowly, the conversation leaned towards girl-friends and relationships. Almost, as if on cue, two couples, entered the restaurant.

On our way back, we came up with the pact, and named it Tandoori roti or Indian Masala pact (or something that sounded like that). The pact was that, by May 1st 2005, Suku, Anshu and I would have found our girl-friends, and that on May 1st 2005, we will go on a triple-date.

There was much enthusiasm and 'lets-do-it' attitude put later in the hostel, and we spent time talking about the innovative concept for a few days after that, mostly on our after dinner walks around the campus.

Then the holidays came, and the next semester came, and other interesting stuff happened, and the pact was totally forgotten. I don't remember mentioning it again till, probably the visit to LA last december.

Life rolled on, picking up interesting stories, discarding some, storing some in the deepest recess of memories, and by 2005, the landscape had changed. Suku had found Bhav's and Anshu, after juggling with so many others, was going around with Shruti.

Later, I found out that, they indeed, kept up the pact, and went to Three-quarter chinese for lunch.

Its October-2008, and Anshu has gone through the breakup that we all wanted, Suku and Bhav's are as fresh as ever, and are going to tie the knot later in November.

It seems, that marriage is in the air. By November, Suku, Bhavs, Parry, Jassi, Shru and Shekar would be married. News drifts in that other hostel acquanitances are contemplating the knot. Munna would be married, so would Tumul. Orkut updates of random school friends shows up marriage photos. Still, more have found love this year (Shriram had be surprised the most). And, more surprises are yet to come. Hardly a phone call goes by without some discussion about impending marraiges in it.

All this makes me happy. The cliched 'Settling-down' is happening. But, it leaves me slightly jealous also (I just hope that it is OK to feel jealous, and that it is not a major psychiatric symptom). My friends are experiencing the relationship of the life-partner, and sometimes, on home-sick nights, I get sucked into imagining mine.

And, I imagine, a lazy evening, sitting in the verandah, and chatting about the crazy bus driver, the over-zealous co-worker, the evil boss, the neighbour we love to hate, her cousins' 'perfect' wife, the home loan, the furnitures etc. And I imagine, late sunday afternoon naps, with music in the background, and the dinner battles and the breakfast wars, the expensive gifts and weekend trips. The kids, and the re-living of childhood as they grow up.

Just sometimes, I imagine.

I hope that this is just another phase of growing up, from the 6th standard boy, who thinks all girls (except his mother) is from another planet, to the naive teenager, who believes that their story would be like ____(substitute your favourite romantic classic), to the 4th year hostelite, who bets about which of the guys will be ruined my marriage first, to perhaps, this one, of thinking about a life-partner, a relationship in which you share everything. (I wonder what the equivalent phase for girls would be, The all boys are obnoxious because they do not understand the monumental games that we play with our dolls and the toy utensils stage to the a Hrithik Roshan is waiting for me stage to college seniors discussing, nah! he ain't in love with me unless he crawls on all fours and begs and gifts me diamonds, to hopefully!, the stage about respecting your partner.)

And yet, most of the times, I feel like fish out of water. I feel lost while I am talking to them. As though, even though, I have known them for so long, I still don't know them. A new facet in their personality, that I am not familiar with, and I don't know about.

And, at times, I still feel like that 4th year hostelite.

Frankly, I have been mulling about this since January, when post the LA trip, all of a sudden, life saw this discontinuous change, and people started calling in about new girl/boy-friends, marriage etc, and went through a phase of confused reaction to the calls, that I can hardly believe myself if those calls would be replayed now.

It has been quite cathartic that I typed this out.

Well, you go through a phase, and come out the better man.

Congratulations to all my friends, and a heart-felt wish that you find all your life's joys.

Salt and Pepper

2008-09-18T01:05:00.003-05:00

I guess, times like this often comes.

You look back at yesterday, and say, boy! those were interesting times.

You zoom into the future, and say, wow! now, that will be interesting.

And then you look at today, and go hmm....

Looking back, those engineering days were surely the extra hot-spicy Indian curry. And now it is just the bland American food.

Life, I hope is like a trampoline, so that I get to go up again :p

Well, such have been the days of my life since the last post. And it seems it will be such, at-least till January. Then I will have India to look forward too :)

Till then, I hope I can crank my pensive up, and come up with some stories and a huge dose of
inspiration to write it......

Kismet Konnection

2008-07-19T01:00:00.003-05:00

My Kismet was bad, that I had to see this movie. It was as though, I saw the movie twice. Seconds before a scene would play out, I will think about it.

Two scenes, where even I could think up of better direction/ dialogue/ screenplay, goes to show, how much off the mark the director was from making even a half decent attempt at making a watchable movie.

One was, an totally contrived scene, where the wrong guy is going to marry the heroine. A old hag and a old thatha try to engage the wrong guy in a conversation which goes like how are you going to keep the girl happy. The wrong guy gives the cliched answer. The girl says that is not enough. The wrong guy says, what more can I do. I have no answer. The hero says, I have an answer.

And what is his answer- A stupid song, which just paraphrased what the wrong guy said.

And what could have been much better- An a-la Sharukh Khan's Kal Ho Na Ho monologue. I never thought, I will come close to praising SRK, but I have to.

The second was when the Kismet Konnector, aka the fortune teller, who in all the previous scenes, asks for $10 as consulation fees, lets the hero go without paying because he is going after true love. How stupid!

How much more funnier it would have been, if she after making him realize about his true love and put all the funda, asked for her fees. Sigh!

Anyways, dont watch the movie, and if it is releasing at a cinema near you, stay away from the cinema.

The good part of the day, though, was I got a few books that I have been wanting to buy. I got Salman Rushdie's latest book - 'The Enchantress of Florence' last week. And, I got an autographed copy of the book, and listend to the man himself, read a few pages from the book. It has been an engrossing read so far. Given that Chicago trip stands canceled, I can finish it this weekend (and maybe review it).

Ever since I read the Midnight's Children, I have been wanting to read more Rushdie. So, I grabbed -'The Moor's Last Sigh' today.

Ever since I read Two Lives, I have been wanting to read more Vikram Seth. So, I grabbed -'A Suitable Boy' today. Phew, it is thick.

I have always loved 'To Kill a Mocking Bird'. I owned a copy once, but lost it. The first time I read it, it was borrowed by B from her library and she lent it to me. The second and third time, I read it, it was my own copy. Then, I gave it to a friend to read, and he never read it, nor did he ever return it to me. Now, I have my copy, Again.

But, it is such a book, I am always looking for friends even remotely interested in reading to lend it to.

I also got an Arab stories book, translated to English. Only because I liked the title and the first paragraph of the book.

Already sitting on my shelf is short stories by Agatha Christie and Asimov. And, there is one -'The selfish gene' on the way from the library.

It will need a big effort for me to finish these, as lately, I have been devoting much less time to reading too. It is mostly weekends. The laptop and streaming and chatting, and general reading on blogs and wiki and news sites and random clicking is eating most of my evenings away.

I also started watching 'Cheers'. Absolutely loved the first six episodes of Season-1. I know, I am into watching it for the long haul. All 11 seasons (although Wiki says that the 11th season DVD is still not out). It will take some time for me to get there though. I have Fraiser going parallel with this too.
~Kaushik

2008-07-17T17:03:00.002-05:00

God save me, when I get a *real* job!

Had a really good discussion with my adviser. Before yesterday, it looked kind of bleak, the things I wanted to do. But, my adviser was happy with my plans with the work. So I am up again.

But, I did not feel like working today, and took the day off. Recently, have been doing this pretty regularly. I feel guilty for being lazy, but I just can't stop being lazy :(

I have been putting up with my roommate for a year now. I guess, it reached the tipping point today. Another angry mail. I should control that too....

Going to Chicago on Saturday. Going to see a broadway show. Don't know, what's in store with that.

going to Florida next weekend. Yay!!!

cheers!
a very lazy me!

Forgiven

2008-07-14T09:17:00.003-05:00

Ashwin was wearing his favourite Singapore T-shirt. Kavitha was mixing colours with water. She had just seen 'spray painting' on the T.V., and had stolen the her tooth-brush to play with colours.

Thinking, it will be fun, she sprays red on her brother's favourite Singapore T-shirt.

Kavitha found it funny.
Ashwin did not.

'You-donkey', he said, and pulled her hair.
'You-monkey', she said, and sprayed a little more red on his shirt.
'Fool'
'Mad'
'Your wife fool- your kids fool'
'Same to you'
'Iditot'-'You-Idiot'-'Fatty'-'Patlu'...

The war of words morphed into a fight. Ashwin was stronger than her, but she bites. Shrieking in pain, he said, what should never have been said
'Amma is not your Amma'.

Kavitha stood still. The weight of the words, slowly pulled her down. A trickle of tear, a river of tear-drops, as she sobbed and cried herself into the arms of her amma, who was not her amma.

Truth is better than the lie. She thought, as she told her kids the truth, a few days ago. Kavitha was not her child. Ashwin was. He was 11. She was 9. They did not understand the details. A few innocent questions, and all was like before. They were the best of friends, and she sighed in relief, for within a couple of days, they behaved as though, the conversation did not happen.

A week later, now, she wondered if the lie was better. She hugged her. Slapped him. Everyone was crying now.

Kavitha spent the next few hours, playing with her teddy underneath the bed, her tent. Ashwin, took to his favourite corner with his Tin-Tin. She stared into her laptop, but her eyes were lost in a whirlpool of memories and thoughts.

Later, Ashwin, comes to her, and asks for 5 rupees. He wants to buy Kavita a chocolate. He says, he is sorry. Kavita, surprised, on being offered a chocolate by her brother, promptly offers half to him, and asks him to help her with the spray paint. They paint till late in the night, and fall asleep in each-others arms.

She looks happily at the children, sleeping arm on arm, leg on leg. How quickly they forgive eachother. How quickly they forget.

The next day, he comes to pick up the kids for his weekend with them. As they run into the car, she tells him, 'You know, I can forgive, but I cannot forget'.

Kavitha, was his daughter, her husbands daughter.

----
As a kid, forgive was always accompanied by forget. The sorry, and all is well handshake, was really meant. No matter, how big the fight. You forgave and forgot. I wonder, where we lose this ability as we become adults. We forgive but we pretend to forget.

A Summer Memory

2008-07-10T23:00:00.004-05:00

Sometimes a memory just jumps at me from nowhere, and lingers on. And, it makes you think, why is it that, such a trivial thing, is so special that you filed away the memory.

It was back in the summer vacations in 1994 or 95. We had just moved into Vishal Apartments, and gelled in with the gang of kids there. Thatha, had just gifted us (me and my sister), the coolest set of board games. We had Scotland Yard, Life and Battleship to spend our days with. Mama, had given us the amazing concentrates for the grape juice and the mango juice and the orange juice. Amma, had made them, and got a bunch of other small things to eat.

The mood was all set, for afternoons after afternoons of board games. Of, fighting to decide who gets to be the Mr X. in Scotland Yard. Of chalking out strategies to outwit the thief (many of which included following the thiefs eye-board movement). Of gasping and smiling when someone got married in the game of Life. Of sharing school stories. Of making fun of the maths tutor, who came with 15 pens. Of making fun of the dance teacher, who thought he was a she. Of discussing the morning Cricket matches. Of making teams for the evening kho-kho.

It was a magical summer.

So, this one afternoon, we were playing Scotland Yard, and sipping the wine-colored juice, thinking we were rich people, betting with millions of rupees and sipping whiskey as they see the game unfold. Amma (and Appa), has this incredeble ability, to gel in with the kids, so much so, in a few minutes, you don't even think that there is an adult around. As, we were playing, Amma, as a matter of conversation, asks all the kids, 'What does your father do'. And, everyone starts answering, Business, Doctor, Doctor, Banker etc etc.

As the question, travelled round the circle, it stopped at another brother and sister pair of M & J. Of everyone in the group, only me, Vidya and amma did not know. Suddenly, everyone became quiet. M looked upto J, and slowly whisphered that their Father is no-more. That he passed away, when she was quite small. Amma, quickly changed questions. And, in a few minutes, we were back to concentrating deeply on the game.

Till then, death, to us was just a phenomena in the movies, and a orphan ( M& J havetheir mother, a truly faboulous lady) was Oliver Twist. At that moment, it became reality.

At that moment, I (and am sure, Vidya too) realized that, some people are really not as lucky as us.

Appa would have been surprised by the extra attention, we showered on him in the evening.

-------
A couple of days ago, I learnt that M is pregnant. I am sure, she will be a great mom.
For me though, it is just as shocking, as to learn that my 5 of my friends will be married by the end of the year.
---------
As I was standing in the bus stand in the evening today, there was a squall. It was getting dark and ominous, as I stood waiting for the bus. As the bus approached my stop, it got the red signal just before my stop, and the squall stuck. The sky emptied everything it had, like it just overturned a bucket full of water, and the bus was standing, a few feet away from me. And, I got totally drenched. And, I loved it.

Just finished watching 'What Happens in Vegas'. It is a formulaic movie. Take a guy, a girl, apply formula, put happy ending, release it. But, well made. Just like Jaane tu. Any movie that makes me feel good, is a good movie.

Short Temper

2008-07-08T22:26:00.003-05:00

I have a bad one. I get angry really quickly. Although, over the years, I have developed a habit of keeping the anger in with me, and letting it out only on family members and close friends ( I should not torture them either....but they understand).

But, today, in the morning, in a few moments of action without thought, my anger, took a drastic decision, which is in no way going to help the already fragile relation-ship that I have with a lab-mate.

Our lab has an antediluvian back-up system. We have to insert tapes into it everyday, and these tapes are numbered. The software that does the backup, does not overwrite a tape nor does it allow us to skip numbers. Being the long weekend, I was lax in changing the tapes. And our system-administrator, quite correctly pointed it out.

This over enthusiastic lab-mate of mine, also pointed it out. I should not blame him for doing so, but still, I feel he had no reason to do it. And, this was the second time, that he decided to remind me, after the system-administrator, had posted on the group, asking us to take care of the back-ups. Again, it is not wrong that he decide to remind me again. But, somehow, the words that he used to do so, suggesting lack of seriousness and responsibility in me (something that even the system administrator did not seem to mention) blew me off.

I don't have the best of relationships with the person. But it is not hate among us to. It is a cordial Hi-hello-and discussing research kind of a relationship. Things have not become much better than that, in the 6-7 months that we have been working together. Today, it took a step back. I wrote a sarcastic reply back to his reminder to the reminder email, and he got angry, and there were a few angry emails exchanged. Now, the status-quo would have changed to a different position. Will know that, once he returns from his summer internship.

Work wise, it is the same as yesterday. Wrote the boring bit of code. The optimization is taking even longer than I thought it would take. Although, the frustration for me today was that, I did nothing but watch the screen, as the computer was crunching numbers. I will have some results tomorrow, but effectively, I have wasted a good 5-6 hours of time when I could have worked, as tie simulation was running.

No cooking today. Went to an Indian restaurant that masquerades as an Afgani one. Spent a lot of time on you-tube watching arbit videos and songs. I cannot seem to get the song Pappu can't dance from Jaane Tu out of my mind. Listened to it hajaar times since yesterday.

Adios then,
Kaushik

2008-07-07T21:55:00.002-05:00

Another nothing day at work. No ideas at all. Got a book to read on Supply Chain. Read the first two chapters. It was a B-School book, so there was lot of jargon, but hardly any mathematics or anything related to optimization, which can help the reader to understand how to optimize a supply chain.

The past week has been such. I do not know what to do with my work. My simulations have been stuck at an optimization which is too slow. I tried trouble shooting, but no help. Read the chapters on Quadratic programing and constrained optimization, yet no light. Cannot do anything else, because, more complicated examples and situations will also be slow. Have to find out why.

Because I have been vetti, have been thinking about my career. Most of the time, I am stuck between a corporate career, mainly in a Management Consulting firm (that is, if they take me) and an academic career.

Will write about it later.

Made capsicum-potato-aloo-murungakai sambhar and beans kari for dinner today. Had gotten back home early today, and thus had time to kill. Decided to cut the frozen beans into tinier pieces, like amma does it. And put some coconut into the kari, like amma does. The coconut, as it got hot, gave such a lovely aroma, and it released a slight taste of coconut oil, which mixed with the beans, and made the beans kari taste totally awesome. The sambhar was good too. Packed the same thing for lunch tomorrow too :)

Well, I have decided to do some boring coding, and compare a few methods that I have been playing with. The last thing, that I tried, works the best. But, with numbers to support it, I will have some decent thing to talk to my adviser. And, with the optimization taking a lot of time, I can spend the next two days with this. Maybe, we will talk to an optimization guru to find out about the trouble, and I get to go to the next part of my plan with this toy example that I am working on.

Weekend

2008-07-06T22:32:00.003-05:00

Friday:

Yay! Yay! Yay! I drove a car for the first time on the interstate. Yay!!!

Life is going to be a pedestrian 5 mph from now on.

The plan was to go to Johnson Creek for some 4th of July shopping. The ulterior motive, was to get a chance to drive. So, Brahma and me were the drivers for the day. We went to the airport in the morning to rent the car. I drove back to pick up the others, and then Brahma took the wheel for the up journey. The first time, unsupervised was amazing. I was always scared (even in India) to back-up out of parking lots. But that went well. I think, I got honked once at a right turn. But, Brahma does not think so. Anyways, we were not doing anything wrong. It was a red and cars were zooming past on the main road. So I had to wait.

Johnson Creek was a amazing shopping place. I never knew, I was such a compulsive buyer. I did not buy everything that I liked, but my eventual shopping expenses topped everyone else in our group by nearly 100$. I got couple of shorts, t-shirts, a shirt, a pair of sunglasses and a pair of slippers and a jeans and a tie.

We then drove to Milwaukee to eat at Bombay Place. The guy at that restaurant was obnoxious, and their music selection was Om Shanti Om on the repeat. But the food was good.

Then, came the most interesting part of the day for me. My turn to drive back to Madison. I was scared. Of all the things that I was least confident about, was lane change. And at 70 mph, I was horrible at it. My friends, had a their eyes closed and a prayer on their lips, the first few times, I changed lanes. But, after some time, it turned out OK. Returned home, and Brahma and me decided to make the most of the time left with the car and drive around. We drove, all the way on the beltline. This time, I got much better.

The thing with lane-change is that, if you don't see a car in the rear view, the chances are very less that you will have one in your blind spot. But, I just keep looking back for a couple of extra seconds, fearing that suddenly some car will appear in the blind spot. And, I could not judge distances clearly using the rear view either. The confidence booster was, before getting onto the highway, Brahma asked me to go to change lanes. I saw the rear view, and the car was close. I decided for it to go past. That somehow, increased my confidence in lane changing. Later, to take our exit out of the beltline, we realized pretty late that we had to take the Whitney way exit. I was on the leftmost lane, and had to execute three lane changes in a short time to get to the exit. And, I did it like a pro!!!

Although, I also got honked twice. First one, I am sure was because the driver behind me was in a hurry. There was a patch of road, in which construction was going on. The speed limit was 35, but I was lot slow (around 25), because the lanes were curving and ending, and there were dug up roads and all. The dude behind wanted none of that, and honked me. The second was my mistake. I was all set to go to a turning lane, when I realized that I was to take the next left. I came back to my lane, halfway into the lane change. And got honked.

Came back, saw some fireworks, and drove back home in the night. Often, there has been worry about driving in the night. But it seemed pretty OK.

Saturday

It was the wedding of a lab-mate on Saturday. So, I got dressed up in a suit and tie and all, and went to the church for the ceremony. The catholic wedding ceremony, seems to be a filtered version of the hindu ceremony. Sitting there, in the church, I realized that our prayers are not that much different.

Coming back to the ceremony, the groomsmen and bridesmaid, were usherd in first. After them, the father of the bride, walked her daughter into the church. Everyone stood up when this happened. The groom came in earlier with the priest and was standing there. Then, the music played for a few minutes, and everyone were standing and praying and contemplating (atleast, I was praying then). Then, the priest invited the fathers of the groom and the bride to read from the bible. The passage that they read, was also sung by a person. The priest, then read a passage himself, and then explained all the three passages.

The marriage ceremony, then began, with the bride and the groom saying ' I accept', 'I do' to a series of questions asked by the priest, regarding taking accepting the other person as their spouse. That, I think, was the point where they were legally (or religiously legally) married. They, then lighted a candle together, kissed. Later, the kneeled, and the priest, read out some more religious sermons, and they exchanged rings. That was the marriage then. Then all of us, joined together in thanking the lord and praying.

Relegions are not all that different . The priest explained the passages from the bible that was read, and the essence of the passages, was something that we all believe are the foundations of marriage. Only that, in hindu weddings, these readings take place in Sanskrit, and not many of us understand them and appreciate them. The promises made, were in old-english, but easy to follow. If only we knew Sanskrit, or if the purohit, took time to explain things, maybe our weddings will not look like the groom and the bride going through some actions. Even the final thank-you prayer, was like the english meaning that I used to write for my Veda/Moral Education classes in school. It was like our Pushpanjali in the puja, thanking God for the myriad small things in life and praying for happiness.

Later, the couple and the wedding party, took off in a limo, and we went to the hotel for the reception. Americans are masters of small talk. And, I was like fish out of water in the reception. Firstly, the couple, the wedding party and the parents had stood in a line to thank all of us. I just knew the couple, and I congratulated them. But after that, I had to go meet all the other people in the line, and I had no idea what to say. I just said, I worked with the groom, and the other side nodded. Later, I saw the Americans go talk to these people. And they seemed to speak for nearly 45-60 seconds with each person. Our lab-mom 'Mary', who was just like me, that is, knew ony the couple, took around 5 minutes to come out of meeting everyone, and I took 15 seconds. Later, at the dinner table, me and my office buddies, were joined by the Girl friends of the grooms-men and another random couple. For nearly an hour, this group of people, who hardly knew eachother were chatting. The same was there in another table, where, a professor (co-adviser to the groom) joined a group of friends of the couple. And, I could see that by the end of dinner, everyone in that group were freely chatting with the prof. On my table, everyone got into small talk. I just answered questions directed at me, and was talking to my brazilian office mate, sitting beside me.

A cute ritual in the reception was that people, will start making the 'ting-ting' noise using the spoon and the glass. Slowly, everyone will start doing it, and the couple will have to kiss. This happened every now and then, and as the number of kisses grew, the crowd started to oooh-aah and clap, only as the length of the kiss grew too. Later, the groom started it off. I was wondering what that meant. He started to point to his dad, and then his dad and mom kissed to applause. It was fun to watch. Around the time dinner got over, the best-man and the maid of honor made their speeches. Unlike the movies, it was not a loooong one. The best-man made the customary funny speech and the maid of honor, the girly speech. Later, lots of people came up and started speaking about how great the couple were.

I did not wait for the dance to begin, as there was an hour more of mingling and small-talk before the dance began. Knowing that I will not dance and I cannot small talk, I put escape at the first possible moment.

Sunday.

Typical of all sundays, I slept till afternoon. Watched Jaane tu ya Jaane na in the afternoon. The movie has got good reviews. But, I thought it was just OK. A good feel-good time pass movie. Currently, I am reading the Days@ISB blog by Raja Banerjee. Nicely written, providing snippets of a B-school life (something that I will not get to see anyway). Made Rajma chaval, ate it and have been typing for the past hour.

Another lazy summer week awaits me.

Phone Calls

2008-07-03T23:39:00.002-05:00

While casually chatting today, the topic turned to wing trips and other such UG college group activities. Then, I realized that I have not been talking to my UG (and some IIT) friends AT ALL, for the past 2 months or so. But then, I do not want to ask or reply to any of these questions

Whats up
Howz things
How is work/research
What plans for weekend
Hows the weather
Marriage plans.
Other friends marriage/engagement stories
Future plans

I think, I am more of a face to face conversationalist than telephone. Cannot talk for much, especially, talk about nothing for much. If there is something important, I can talk about that...but cannot just gossip.

On the other hand, in a face to face conversation, I can talk non-stop and non-sense.

But all said and done, I think I better call these people up to let them know I am alive.

What else today?

Saw the cricket match. Watched cricket after a long long time. Infact, the last time I actually sat and saw some cricket was the day India won the Perth test. I just followed the IPL. Did not see any match. The timings were not that great, had classes in the weekdays and had to sleep on weekends.

No meeting. Saw Wanted. Tripe. It is total bull-shit. Cannot think of people coming up with such stupid story and making a movie out of it. Had dinner at Swagat. It is a good place, but today, somehow, it was not that great. They burnt my Naan.

Well, tomorrow may have interesting stories. Am driving. Starting with a small 35 mile trip. All the best to me :)

Cheers!
Kaushik

Reviews

2008-07-02T22:47:00.003-05:00

So, I had a couple of movies and a book to return to the local library. I did not watch Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront. I just rent too many movies.
The one I saw was Coppola's The Outsiders. I loved it. It is the kind of fare that I am in love with these days, childhood, teenage, coming of age stuff.

It is a story about a couple of kids from a poor neighborhood, who just don't belong there. They have different dreams, aspirations and thoughts, and just do not fit there. Yet, somehow, they are caught into the very same lifestyle that they want to avoid.

For me, the best character in the movie was the one played by Matt Dillon. He was the typical greaser, flirting with the police and law, partying late, eve-teasing. However, there was much more depth to his character. A depth, that mirrored the greaser community. A deep respect for friendship, loyalty and a helpful nature. The progression of his character and its portrayal by Matt Dillon was the high point of the movie for me. All in all, a nice movie to watch.

The book that I returned was called Men of Mathematics. I got the book, after reading about it in a blog. It is not the best of books on Mathematicians. The author, took up a huge canvas, trying to describe the lives of great mathematicians from the 16th to the 18th century, in around 500 pages. So, all the stories had a incomplete feel to it. He would discuss their life and times, and write a little about their contribution, go slightly technical in explaining their researches. But, none of the biographies presented by E.T.Bell, actually give a full picture of either the life or the mathematical genius. I left it midway, after reading about 300 pages.

As promised to myself, I will also file away the day today.

Not a bad day. Had no new ideas in my research, so just consolidated the things that I have been doing for the past two weeks, and made all the plots. This in itself is the most boring job ever. Of having to run the simulations, collect the data and plot it. But, that is done. At-least I have some plots to show for tomorrows meeting.

Had lunch at subway. Surprisingly, had jalepenos and ranch on my sub for the first time. It tastes good.

Played some TT in the evening and then returned the DVDs. Rented The English Patient.

Planned for Indian Restaurant (Swagat) and Wanted for tomorrow evening. It is almost 100% that I will drive on Friday. Although, it may just be two of us, interested in driving who will be going. Surprisingly, no one is interested in going anywhere for the long weekend.

Came back in the evening, and made awesome rasam and half decent beans kari. Waited, till I felt like fainting before I ate it.

And just now, spoke to Patti. It was just amazing. She was her usual self, advising. Somehow, she thinks I will get back with a white girl. Also spoke to Vidya in the evening. Nothing out of the special happening in India. Will put a long call later.

Thats it then.

Adios!
Kaushik

2008-07-02T00:30:00.003-05:00

Was just reading through some old posts that I wrote. January 2006 saw me write 23 times in the month. Aarambha soodutanum, aka, excitement of starting a new blog.

And, I wrote about totally different stuff, from politics to God to Cricket to memoirs about patti to assignment blues.

Of late, though, have just been reminiscing or bitching on(in?) my blog.

Need to get back to those hay-days....

Lets see, a pointless blog would be what I did today. Totally vetti. Slept late for no reason yesterday, and then woke up real late. Walked into the office, late in the afternoon. My adviser came around. Had a 30 minute discussion with him. Need to learn GAMS now :(

Later, spent a long time reading kodumai's of Usha. Played some TT. Ate a pizza and came back home, to finish all the archive in the kodumai blog.

Oh ya! planned a lot for a trip to somewhere on Friday. Mainly because I want to drive. Now, I am scared, because I have to drive (also because, guru has said that she is not confident about my skills). Lets see how that goes...

Later, eyes started burning and neck paining, due to reading a lot into the laptop in a dark room, and due to the worst posture ever. Tried to go to sleep early, but it eludes me. Thought a lot about arbit things, like quitting the PhD program. Thought about the cover letter that I will write to BCG (dreams'a paatiya, after dropping out), when I apply for a job to them. Thought about the letter I will write to my adviser. It will be a mega scene, that I thought about. Will go to India in December and not come back :)

(No, I am not going to do that. Avalvo frustration-un ille, avalo dhairiyum-un ille)

Woke up, and decided that I should start chronicling my days. Lets see how that works out.

Adios then!
Kaushik

2008-07-01T01:38:00.006-05:00

As I walked up the stairs, I knew that my dream was going to crash into the real world. Yet, I hoped and wished, that, somehow, what I see and feel and know and experience, become fake. I wanted, the pretense that your friends have, when they ask you to come to someplace on your birthday, trying to behave that it is absolutely normal, to ask you to be in that place at that time. I wanted, everything that happened in the past two months, to be that pretense to make me go up those stairs. But, I knew better. There was no surprise party there.

That ought to have changed my life. But, still, I found ways to cocoon into my wishful dreams.

Much later, I saw that my dreams were futile. Still, I held on. Every day was a reminder to forget and move on. But still, I held on. Only to be shaken roughly, beaten up, clobbered, by the same truth that I refused to believe, as I walked into the park.

In a way, that changed my life. In many ways, that changed my life.

In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!

O'Henry, The Last leaf.

I remembered these lines suddenly last night. In some ways, it reflects, the large number of times, I have not known that I am back on the same road, thoughts, dreams, without realizing that I had made an effort to leave them.

Dreams weave themselves in strange angles and curves. You have to realize that such curves and angles just don't occur in reality.

I know it. I realize it. Yet, peace eludes me.

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

It is 2 in the morning. I really worked today. And then made this. I should be tired. But, I have this urge to drive that is keeping me awake. If I had a car now, I would be in Chicago.

Appa's Lullabies

2008-06-11T23:25:00.003-05:00

A couple of days ago, for a fleeting second, conversation veered towards appa and bedtime stories.

And, so this post.

I have always been a silent admirer of appa's lullabies. That is, I used to love them, but never demanded that appa recite the story/sing the song for me. Mainly because, being 2 years older (than my sister), my ego of being a big boy got into the way. But, I loved those times.

*The earliest lullaby (one which, of-course, I do not remember), but often comes up when amma and appa sit down to tell our tiny toddler (kai-kozundai) stories. I would never sleep in the night, unless appa used to pick me up and walk up and down the room. And I would start crying, once he stops. This used to go on for like 2 hours. Finally, appa would just pretend he is walking, so that I do not start crying.

*The one with the trains is one that I have asked him to repeat often. This would just be lying on the ground, and he would just drum his fingers on the floor, fooling us that it is the sound of the train. I would then, just let my imagination flow, and imagine travelling. Train journey was my favouritest part of the summer vaccation, and this tapping of the fingers on the floor, used to lead me the semi-dreamy sleep. Later, when I used to sleep alone, I used to amuse myself with the tapping and fool myself that I am in a train.

*Vidya used to request these all the time. I just sat/slept in the background and enjoyed. This was the story about the pious elephant. The basic story is that an elephant used to take bath in a river daily, and offer flowers to a Vishnu temple after the bath. One day, after the bath, a crocodoile, catches the elephants foot. The elephant calls out to Lord Vishnu, and he cuts the crocs mouth with his chakram. Appa used to spice it up daily with some new tid-bits. Often, the elephant would forget something. Either the towel, or the soap. And, there was the sound effects. Of the Elephant walking, the croc sneaking in, and the God sending the chakram swirling.

*Most often, we would sleep listening to appa sing to this and this. They were sad songs, but we hardly understood the meaning then. The whole concept of a guy selling salt in the rain (for the first song) amused us. Also, Vidya (most of the time) and a few times, I, too, used to get all sentimental about young kids in movies. That was the fascination for the second song.

*A large part of the years, and still counting, has been spent talking about this Calvin that Appa invented, called Ashatu Paiyyan. Basically, this is a 6-7 year old smart kid, who has a witty answer of any situation. There has been not one day, when an Ashatu Paiyaan answer has not been saught for questions. And the Ashatu Paiyyan, has the ashatu paiyaan voice, which is an integral part of being him. There was a time, during the world-cup 1994, when appa would use to come up with a series of stories regarding this charachter. The most famous one, the jokes of which are still rememberd is the Ashatu Paiyaan goes to America to watch the world-cup episode.

We still spend, reading jokes out of tinkle, Readers Digest, Ananda Vikatan etc as Ashatu Paiyaan ones. The most favourite one, is however, to see and observe kids, and put Ashatu Paiyaan in their place.

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I cannot wait for December to come, so that Vidya and I can sleep on either side of appa, and crack up jokes.

The Instant Teleporter

2008-05-29T22:56:00.004-05:00

Sometimes dreams take on the surrealistic feel, and you don't know if it is the dream world or the actual one.

Mainly, though, they become such on the night before the exam, when suddenly you realize (in your dream mostly, and sometimes really as well), that you don't know anything. You stare at the question paper with visions of failure.

Then you wake up. Take a look around. It is still dark. You are on a bed. You are surprised. A few seconds later you realize, it was just a dream. You drink a little water, switch on the lights, read a few pages from the book, feel slightly satisfied, and doze off.
The alarm then wakes you suddenly. You feel you have not slept enough. But that is another story.

Well something similar happened last week. But it was not the exams, and that why, I still love the dream and hope that I can dream such dreams more often (but then the charm will wear away).

It was Saturday night, and I was really really bored. Just a year back, boring days in IIT would just mean that I will take the 524 home. And such visits home was neatly planned. For weekends, I used to wake up early on Friday morning, sign the attendance and I would be at home by lunch time. And on Mondays, I took the 11Am bus, and made it just before the attendance registers were closed for the day. Mid-week jaunts were similarly planned, and if for some reason, I was extra lazy the next morning, I would not go back, and then re-plan my 15 days paid leave meticulously. Those were those days. Boring days killed with useless chatting with amma and appa and lots of cricket and news on the TV, and a book. But, the essential thing was home. I don't know why, but the lazy mornings in Nerul seem so ideal to me now.

Coming back to the story, on saturday night, bored out of my wits, I drifted into sleep. Much later in the night, I just transported myself back to IIT.

Suddenly, the plan of going home flashed in front of me. I looked out of my window, to see the early morning, and I decided to take a couple of shirts and a book and head home. I woke up, and put the things in my bag.

Realization stuck then. I saw America out of my window.

It was a dream, but a beautiful one. Not because of what I saw, but because, it let me imagine being at home. It recreated the beautiful Bombay weekends. It reminded me, not of a strong memory, not of a great story, not of a funny/sad/important day, but of a normal weekend, with nothing special in it. The dream, however, made the normalcy special.

Such dreams, at the cusp of dreams and reality are rare. This one, made my day and week.

Cheers!
Kaushik

Updates:
1.My Mac died! And, I am literally crying over spilled milk.
2.Research looks good. And, I do get some work done with no courses to worry about.
3.Plans for the summer are still in the planning stages. Hope they take some shape soon.

2008-05-25T11:55:00.004-05:00

A whirlpool of contradictions
A tornado of confusion

Lost so deep in search for answers,
That the questions are forgotten

A battle within me,
A fight within a fight,
as thoughts jostle up,
Trade punches

As the shadows lengthen,
the soul cries,
The puzzle lays unsolved.

Maybe Tomorrow,
Maybe the day after....

84 Charring Cross

2008-05-23T00:03:00.002-05:00

Endearing!!!
I first came across this book in Badri's home in Bangalore. And I nearly read the whole of it in 2 hours, and was captivated by it. But somehow, it did not make that permanent impression inside me and I totally forgot that I had left it unfinished that day. Long afterwards, yesterday, I found a movie with the same title in the library. Something in the title caught my attention. A glance at the story, took me back to the beautiful story.

I have always been captivated by the written word. A movie shows the things, but a book, lets you imagine the plot the way you want it to! But then too, I was curious, about how could a book that was just correspondence between two people be made to a movie. I now know, it can be, and can be done very beautifully.

I love letters. I like to read and re-read a lot of my mails from time to time. I like to think about what I was thinking then, what the context was, and then, by some weired connections which is my brain, I remember the place, I wrote the mail, the things I did a few minutes before etc etc. Ah! I love these Brain-memory-daydream jumps!!!

Like, I was reading this mail about my first few days in US to amma and appa, and suddenly, I remember the basement browsing center in Union South. I love it, when I go to a new place, the scenes are different, but so is the smell and feel, the characteristic background chatter of the place. It takes a little time getting used to it, but then thinking back about it is like flipping the pages of your favorite book. RVCE mess had this aqua-guard singing every morning during breakfast, and that is like the first thought that comes when suddenly I think about the mess. Followed by a scared bunch of first years, in formals, hurriedly eating the breakfast to walk to class in the pleasant Bangalore morning...

Oh! back to letters, I love it as a medium of communication. I would prefer it for, it helps me think and arrange my thoughts before I say it. And for important matters, it allows me the time to think and rethink, before the words are out there, (and as it was eloquently put in When harry met sally, if it's out there, you cannot take it back).

Digressing again, the joy that each missive bought to the faces of the characters Frank and Helene in the book, reminds me of the glory old telecommunication less days. Appa and Thatha would write to eachother, so would amma and patti. And as soon as the letter arrived, Appa after reading it, would read loud the letter to us. This was followed by the STD's of Sunday mornings (1/4th rate days). Patti is a brilliant writer. When she used to visit us in Calcutta, she used to take out her pilgrimage notes. The one that stands out in my memory, is a rainy Calcutta afternoon. Amma, Vids and me, lying lazily on the bed, listening to patti's memoirs of Vaishno-Devi. She has a beautiful writing style. A paragraph would start with the banalities of the morning chai, and slowly end up with some story related to some stone on the path. And, her writing was so detailed. We listened to her for 3 hours about the trip, and I could imagine the whole thing in my head.

I used to write letters too. The first one that I remember was writing to my cousin (in both english and hindi), when I was in 1st Standard, and down with Chicken Pox. And the last letter I remember writing, was to Tatha (and the whole gang in Madras), about our trip to the Andamans. Inspired by Patti, I wrote for around 8 pages !!!!!

(To my readers, if any, go read the book)

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The semester is finally over. It just seemed to drag and drag and drag. The summer is here, and so is the promise of some progress in the research. I am keeping my finger's crossed, and hoping that someone quickly makes an enthu-generating machine
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The previous blog, came at the end of a utterly depressing and frustrating day. But, again, I am happy that I wrote it. J and Haddi gave interesting comments on it, and that was good. The feel good comment.
On days such as that, I just hope that I can as easily take a peek into the future as I peek my memories, and see that all's well and happy....
...but then where is the thrill of it

Cheers!
Kaushik

Life Sucks...

2008-04-29T00:37:00.002-05:00

when you don't have the only thing you desire
when you know you can never have it
when you know you can never hope to have it
when you know you can never hope to hope to have it (and so on)
when you are willing to exchange everything you have for it, but no-one cares
when you live in suspended reality, but the bubble breaks
when you don't care what you achieve
when all you achieved does not make up for what you want most
when even dreams are nightmares
when you are tired of pretending
when you are tired of running away
when you are out of ideas to keep your thoughts occupied

What the heck! I need to crib :(
I have kept so much to myself that this blog is the only place I can crib

What have I?
A budding PhD thesis, thats all.

Heres hoping that some dreams come true!!

(Not that I should complain too much. I am proud of what I achieved so far. I am proud of getting into IIT. I am proud of my career choice. I love 'research'. I am in my dream university. )

(but somethings are never meant to be;
but you keep wondering what-if, if-only, why????)

The April Post

2008-04-19T12:51:00.004-05:00

So, I watched two really beautiful movies over the past two days. Both movies, raised the bar for good movie making just that little bit, and mostly because there was passion in telling the story.

I have been wanting to watch Children of Heaven since the time I read Swati's review of the movie. I love the magic of childhood, and the movie, as promised, reminded me of those days. The movie reminded me of a couple of things about being a child, which I yearn for even now.

I still want the childish hope and optimism. I loved the double life, that I could manage between the real world and my world of dreams, and how I, without a worry, could jump and hop between them. And, that is the childish optimism that I refer to. My dream world was a reflection of how I wanted things to be in the real word(mostly, I also had fairy-tale-ish worlds too), and I was sincerely optimistic that events in the dream world will turn out real. Now, though, it is a pain to be so surrealistically optimistic, but the days on which I manage such a dream, and stay hopeful seem so much more beautiful and valuable.

As a child, we could let our imagination paint so many dreams, that we (atleast me and my sister) hardly had a huge list of materialistic demands. Knowing quite well, that on our birthdays, we could get whatever that we wanted, our demands would still be small things that fascinated us in the week (forgetting millions of other things that were in vogue a week, a month earlier), and we could be so happy with the clapping doll, the train set. All we needed was our imagination.

And, it does not need stating, the movie, also reminded me of my sister. Our childhood was magical, as we dreamed the same dreams differently, and lived it together. Almost all my cherished childhood memories involve playing some game with her. Now, that I think of it, I hardly remember us being separate during holidays and evenings and all.

I digressed.

Coming back to the movie, I connected with it because it reminded me of such thoughts and more. The story is about Ali, losing his sister, Zhara's shoes. The kids, despite being 9 and 6, are mature, given the poor family that they come from. They decide, not to tell their parents about the missing shoe, not because they are scared of getting scolded, but because they know that their parents cannot afford one in the middle of the month. Despite this maturity shown by the kids, the story maintains the beauty of kids, as such mature conversations is immediately followed by the immature and innocent hoping and optimism of the kids. Like, when Ali convinces his sister that he will come 3rd in a long distance race, because the third prize is a pair of sneakers. Or, when they follow the girl who is now wearing Zhara's lost sneakers in the hope of getting it back (and maturely coming back, when they realize that the girl is even poor-er). Or, when after winning the race, Ali, panting, asks his coach, did he come third.

Another scene which stands out for its innocence, is when Zhara's mother asks her to server some tea to the kids father. Zhara, does it. All this while, the father is cutting sugar meant for the mosque. The mother, asks Zhara to get some sugar for her father. Not wanting to walk again, she just points at the heap of sugar lying in front and says, but pa, there is so much sugar here. The way the scene was set up naturally, while the objective was to highlight the poverty of the family, through words exchanged by the parents in the scene, was sheer brilliant movie-making.

The other movie that I saw and really loved was Mudal Mariyaathai. Desi movies, most of the times flirt with the thin line between telling the story and losing the plot in showcasing the hero in the lead role and more often losing that too in trying to sell the movie as some story, bu t with the big hero in it. Bharatiraaja could have lost the plot in trying to make a movie with Sivaji Ganeshan. But, instead, he treated Sivaji as the character Mailsaamy, and in the process gave a memorable movie.

The movie is about a lonely Mailsaamy, who has married, not out of love, but to save the family honor, who befriends a rather talkative Kuyil, and how they slowly start to like eachother. Of-course, there are sideplots, mainly to make the viewers empathize with a middle aged village leader falling in love with the much younger woman. But, the side-plots gel well with the central plot, and unlike other movies, the empathy is not contrived.

My favorite scene in the movie is one where everything is obvious. The director had shown Sivaji being mis-treated by his wife, and explicitly it was shown that he did not get good food. Presently, he finds himself in Kuyil's shanty, where she has cooked a rather delicious fish curry. The scene as it was set-up offered no surprises. You knew that Kuyil will offer the food to Sivaji, and he will refuse it ( he is the elder, upper caste guy blah blah), but he will finally eat it, to please her. It was given. Still, the performances by cast in the scene, the way Sivaji spoke about not wanting to eat, but his eyes showed the lust for the food, the way Radha, understood that he wants to eat, but maintained that he was doing it for her etc etc etc was simply mind-blowing.

Illayaraja's songs and more importantly the background music also smugly fit with the story. It stopped, stuttered, flowed, rushed, with the story, and was like a invisible cast in each scene, which ended brilliantly with the BG score for the final scene. Mailsaamy is in his death bed, and Kuyil comes to visit him. They hold their hands together, and the scene flashes back to brief spurts of happiness that they shared with eachother. In the background, the signature track of the movie slowly starts to hum. As the flashbacks go past the screen, the song picks up tempo (and volume), and reaches a crescendo. The happiness of Mailsaamy and Kuyil, flows into you through the song, leaving you believing (despite your skepticism) that Kuyil can cure somehow cure Mailsaamy. And then, life flows out of Mailsaamy, and the song in the background, from its high pitch, falls quickly to a sad hum. Sadness now flows through the cast and the song to you, as the movie slowly draws to its end. Absolute Brilliance.

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

Updates
1. The biggest update is that I have no updates. No flashy story to tell, no mega research results to boast about, zilch. I am still struggling with the courses, the assignments, and still staring into my code, trying to figure what it is that I want the code to do. (However much I struggled with the Bio course, it has taught me a lot. Maybe I will post about it later)
2. oh!ya! I am learning to drive (again). And having a tough time, reminding myself that you have to turn across the road when you turn left and turn to your side when you turn right.

Till the next time then!
Cheerio!
Kaushik

Hoosiers and a nice weekend

2008-03-18T00:10:00.002-05:00

There is something about an underdog sports movie, any underdog movie. You know the plot. The team/ hero/ lead will win against all odds. That is a given. But still, you love it. Because, it is not the story, but the story-telling, it is not the victory, but the fight.

Hoosiers, is one of the best coming-from-back, underdog movie, I have seen. And it is all in the process of winning. It is about a small school, from a small town, winning the Indiana State Championship. It is about a forgotten coach redeeming himself. But, you do not cheer for the super speeches the coach gives, or bite your nails in the finals, when everything boils down to the final second. Everyone is a winner by then. The tension is in the smaller matches, when the town shows up to support a team, they no has no chance of winning. You know, because of the premise of the story that they will win, but still, you mutter a silent prayer for them, you jump with joy with every basket, you cringe when they go down, you cry with the team, and you are not watching a movie, but living it.

One scene really stood out, for it showed how the coach could inspire confidence. The town team had defied odds and reached the finals, which was to be played in Indianapolis. And, they were awed seeing the big stadium and the huge galleries. The coach, however, takes out a measuring tape, and makes them measure the dimensions of the court, and says, it's the same as it is back in our gym. Amazing morale boosting scene.
-----------------

It is spring break here now. And the weather is warming up, and so is the mood. The hopeless depression of the winter, is giving way for the warmth and wishful hoping of the spring. And it feels good.

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

So, on Saturday, A, J and I, were putting aratai (adda, bantering) in J's home. It turned out to be one of the more memorable evenings here in Madison. It was like an evening I dreamed of spending for a long time. It started with an take away Thai food, a not so great movie (The Holiday), an hour or so of useless chatting about schools and mischiefs and other not-so-important, but funny stuff, that is stuffed in our heads for times like this. Later, late into the evening, we started playing Hangman, but only with Hollywood movies. Another remnant of school days, boring classes spent playing this game. Instead of drawing the hangman, each guess had to be got correct by the time you run out of words in -Hollywood, Hollywood, being to signify English movies. So, we laid out the rule that, we would only play with English movies, and A, the walking IMDB, was guessing movies off, even before J and I could think of it, and setting us, tough, obscure movies. Finally, J decided it is enough, and set us a movie, and insisted that she write ********* instead of Hollywood, just for a change. We went on with it, and found no English words at-all completing the blank words, and A, suddenly jumped up, and said it is Alai-paayuthey, the tamil movie. J, had set us up. And it made my evening. It was cute, sweet, innocent, wicked, mischievous and beautiful. And, a small, nice memory, for other such Saturday evenings of pure fun with meaningless anecdotes and time-pass games.

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

Have I changed in America?? I think so, for I visited a temple 250 kms away today, after refusing, all of the last two years in Mumbai, to go to temple 250 meters from my home. And this is the second time in America, I have been to one. But it was beautiful, and the drive was fun, and the whole day great. But, to put a different spin to it, the temple indeed helped me. The past week had been kind-of tough, and I was feeling a bit down, and the temple, somehow helped. I don't know how, but thats why, I guess it is hard to explain God. Amen.

Cheers!
Kaushik

PS: Was supposed to have posted it last night, but surprisingly, there was a power cut and I could not post. But, then, the dark streets and the rain (ya! rain, and no snow) reminded me of Bombay. It was not the noise of a downpour or the silent drizzle, but somewhere in-between, a periodic patter-patter, like a lullaby, which, strangely reminded me of monsoon evenings, sitting in 524, at the Vashi toll-naka, looking at the rain fall into the sea, and waiting to get home to a hot cup of chai. Amen to that thought too :-)

The song shall remind me

2008-02-11T01:36:00.001-06:00

Perhaps, the one gift I would really loved to have had is the gift of a song. It can be so beautiful and take you so many places, conjure up all those memories, brew so many dreams, unfreeze those emotions. Oh! how I wish I had a musical gene in me.

Some songs, really are a wormhole in my memories. Just the thought of that song, brings up so many things. Not that, like in the movies, a song was playing, with those important events in my life. These songs, just transport me back to seemingly mundane activities of life, but somehow, the song has made it just that special.

Sometimes, it is just the lyrics, many times it is the music, but most often, it is the way the song sounds in your head.

Some times, a scene attaches itself to the song, many times, the song was there in the backdrop, but most often, it is that unknown inside you, that makes an unfathomable, but beautiful connection of a memory to a song.

Initially, I wanted to write a long, mega-huge post about such songs. But then, the list kept growing, and I did not want to play selector among the songs. More-so, penning the emotions or the memories, felt to me, that it takes away my connection with the song. So, I let the connection remain, forever, inside my convoluted self.

But, then, I would love to live this lovely dream that I have.

A Golden Sunday morning, the warm early morning rays of the sun steeping in through the window, a cup of strong filter coffee, a book in my hand, and the play-list crooning an endless list of songs. Part me, enjoying the perfect morning, a part, losing itself in the book, creating a parallel word, where I am every character in the book, where I am a ghost in every scene of the book, another part, dancing, with my pair of mental left-foots, to the tunes of the songs, and a part, taking jumps from year to year, and memory to memory, reliving the days, re-emoting those emotions.

Slowly, I drift into a beautiful sleep, a content sleep, a sleep induced by a long list of happy and sad and bitter and sweet and priceless nothings from life, a sleep promising many more such moments to live for.

To be rudely woken, for the sumptuous lunch.

Amen

Confused

2008-02-02T19:55:00.000-06:00

In a trivial search to reclaim a lost innocence,
In a trivial pursuit to discover a greater maturity

In a conundrum,
Shall I discard the 'kid' in me?
Or Do I become the 'responsible' adult?

In a no man's land;
Life is what I chose it to be

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Juno

2008-01-22T19:40:00.000-06:00

B-e-a-utiful movie.

Two scenes really stood out in the movie. Juno's father and step-mother, had been really supportive of her, but still, the family functioned as the typical dysfunctional American family ( as Aishwarya put it, we Indians do not need an appointment to meet our parents and really really rubbed it in!!)

It was really touching, as in the only way he would know, he lets his daughter know about love, and then cutely asserts that he really loves her, for what she is. He may have known the context of why her daughter asked him the particular thing about love, but very nicely, he managed to tell her how much he really loved her.

Juno MacGuff: I'm losing my faith in humanity.
Mac MacGuff: Think you can narrow it down for me?
Juno MacGuff: I guess I wonder sometimes if people ever stay together for good.
Mac MacGuff: You mean like couples?
Juno MacGuff: Yeah, like people in love.
Mac MacGuff: Are you having boy troubles? I gotta be honest; I don't much approve of dating in your condition, 'cause well... that's kind of messed up.
Juno MacGuff: Dad, no!
Mac MacGuff: Well, it's kind of skanky. Isn't that what you girls call it? Skanky? Skeevy?
Juno MacGuff: Please stop now.
Mac MacGuff: [persisting] Tore up from the floor up?
Juno MacGuff: Dad, it's not about that. I just need to know if it's possible for two people to stay happy together forever, or at least for a few years.
Mac MacGuff: It's not easy, that's for sure. Now, I may not have the best track record in the world, but I have been with your stepmother for 10 years now and I'm proud to say that we're very happy.
[Juno nods]
Mac MacGuff: In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person will still think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with.
Juno MacGuff: I sort of already have.
Mac MacGuff: Well, of course! You're old D-A-D! You know I'll always be there to love and support you no matter what kind of pickle you're in... Obviously
[nods to her belly]
Juno MacGuff: I need to go out somewhere just for a little while. I don't have any homework and I swear I'll be back by ten.
Mac MacGuff: You were talking about me right?

Juno's step-mother is not the Cinderella type wicked. She too cared for Juno, but hid it. She never really wanted Juno to feel the same way, nor did Juno ever try. But, towards the end of the movie, when Juno was in labor, she actually asked her step mother, when some relief (spinal whatever) would come. She tried to smart-ass her way out of it, but seeing the pain, she yells out for the spinal whatever to be given to her, and shouts out 'my-kid'. Her love, again, shown subtly and beautifully.

Amazing movie making

Juno MacGuff: Ow, ow, fuckity-ow! Bren, when do I get that spinal tap thing?
Bren: It's called a spinal block. And you can't have it yet, honey. The doctor said you're not dilated enough.
Juno MacGuff: You mean I have to wait for it to get worse? Why can't they just give it to me now?
Bren: Well, honey, doctors are sadists who like to play God and watch lesser people scream...
[Juno lets out painful scream, Brenda checks her watch]
Bren: Shit.
[to doctor]
Bren: Hey, can we get my kid the damn spinal tap already?

happily ever after

2008-01-16T18:18:00.000-06:00

'...And they lived happily ever after'.

He looked into her face, as she slept, a smile on her face. He was sure, he could see her dreams, of a beautiful world, of kings and queens, of talking fishes and flying horses,of evil witches and bad curses, of courageous heroes and great wars, of a blue sky and green earth, and of happy endings.

Secretly he wished, he could be the kid again, and listen to bed-time stories of fairies and everything that is beautiful, and believe, as his daughter now does, that every story, indeed has a happy ending. But, instead, he knew, he was facing the hardest decision of his life yet.

A poor immigrant in a poor country, not many jobs were available to him. And today, the job he knew to do well, was gone. His owner, moved on to the bigger city, to work for another master. Yes, he had to find some work, but he knew the other decision would be harder.

We had never planned for her, he said to himself. Cold logic kicked in. A child was never a good decision, for a poor man, in a country ravaged by war, looking to flee from home. But, the pregnancy happened. They ran away from the war. With no shelter, no money, he could just listen to the doctor in his new country say, that his wife may not survive child-birth. Later, he could just see her live the last moment of her life, as her child, his child lay crying next to her.

No, I never bargained for her, he thinks again, as he looks towards the angelic 4 year old face sleeping next to him, oblivious to his torture, in the dream world of happy endings.

He chided himself. For cold logic to have taken over his thoughts. She was his child. He had raised her. She had given him those fleeting moments of happiness, which was as hard to come by as a good meal in the last 4 years. He had seen happiness in her face. He had worked through long hard days, just by seeing her play all by herself from the corner of his eyes. He had felt the surge of happiness and excitement in her, when he threw her up in the air and caught her every evening. He, once again, had believed in happy endings, when he cooked up bed-time stories for her.

She needs me, he argues to himself. She is living in this protected, magical, beautiful world, that he had made for her. She is not ready, yet, to learn that the world is lot more crueler then she can ever imagine to be now. He has to stay with her, and ease her into the real world, slowly. It has to be him that has to do it.

The mental war of emotion and logic is leaving him, nothing but confused, as logic presents its case again, inside the courtroom of his thoughts. Happiness, you argue, emotion, but tell me how will you give her happiness. So far, you spent more money for tiny gifts for her, the nice frock, the rainbow ice-cream, the talking doll, then for your food. You have not eaten for two days, just so that she has some food. How do you reckon, emotion, that tomorrow, jobless and helpless, unwanted in this new country, you are going to keep her happy and content. How do you even think that you can shield her, as you have, from the cruelties of the world.

Moments such as these come, when logic feels right, but emotions and memories, which have no place in all that is logical, contradict. Decisions, however, need to be taken.

It was getting late, and in a split second, he decided. He had to let her go. It would be hard for her tomorrow, and the day-after, but maybe one day she will realize that father was correct. It was the only logical thing to do. He picked her up, and walked down the road, to the orphanage, that had been tempting him, for quite some time, and which had been his only thought, all evening, after he had lost his job.

He placed her gently, on the stairs, and turned back and left. He knew, that the one last look, he promised himself, when he made the decision, would be the worst thing to do. Fighting tears, he ran up the street, to collect all his belongings, and ran all the way to the railway station.

The train, was not to come till the morning. He laid his belongings down, and decided to sleep. As he closed his eyes, his thoughts only had place for the beautiful smile that he had seen on his daughter's face as he finished the story earlier in the evening. He knew what he had to do.

He ran back to the street, to the orphanage, picked her up, shook her, woke her up, and in a shower of kisses, let her know, that they together will change the story. They deserved a happy ending, and he will find it for her and himself.

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

PS: The idea just came, when lazing on my bed, I thought about fairy tales and how every story was ' Long long time ago.....and they lived happily ever after". Suddenly, this story( if I may call it), occurred to me, and I though I will write it. Obviously, there are a lot of borrowed instances, coming from a lifetime of watching movies. But, I wanted, somehow to highlight the turmoil inside the father's head. I hope I could do it.

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

PPS: Why is it that work gets done only when deadlines knock on your door? I have a bad feeling about my PhD. The whole 4/5 years is a big exercise in self-motivation, but I need huge huge, XXL doses of it. Right now, the whole research excites me, I can spend hours thinking what I can do, but it does not count, till I do something.

Cheers!
Kaushik

A Separate Peace- My perspective

2008-01-08T01:51:00.000-06:00

The journey from the land of innocence to that of knowledge and maturity has no return path, and perhaps that's what keeps us yearning for the innocent days, like the neverland that never will be.

I have to reference To kill a mocking bird (which is most popular among books that deal with innocence and loss of innocence), which presented an outlook to life and society, that only kids with their unadulterated minds can have. It showed, what we can be, highlighted how much away from it we are.

A separate peace, does not set out to do all these. Instead, it is about the journey of Gene, from the perfect innocent world of a kid/pre-teen to the real one. John Knowles, has penned down the turbulent feelings that Gene and you and me, have invariably gone through, as we understand ourselves, our society and the world as a whole.

Knowles, tells the story in a simple setting, that of high school boys, a year away from enlisting in the war (world war- II), and a small incident that takes place in the school, which changes forever, the nice little joyous world of Gene and Finny and Leper and Binker and reminds us of our younger days.

The book is a work of art in detailed character sketching. Most of the book, is written so as to dissect the thought process of a confused teenager, unsure of himself. Each event, has been described through the ambivalent and mixed feelings that we have had, when what we believe and what we see don't match up, and then we think differently, take a different standpoint, and end up contradicting ourselves again, and continue an inner turmoil to achieve our mental peace.

As I read the book, I connected with a lot of feelings that Gene went through. It was as though, I read the book on two different planes, whilst a part of my brain, connected the dots in the book, another traced dots previously connected when I was 13-14-15-16 years old.

Phineas, is the unspoiled, untarnished character, preserving his innocence and inner peace. In the whole book, the only character to stay clear of confusions and ambivalence is Phineas. Gene, the narrator, on the other hand, is in the center of turbulence. The book traces the thoughts of Gene, slowly as maturity and understanding creeps into him, and how he fights himself to hold on to the insane and playful and irresponsible thoughts of Phineas, which reminds him of how he was not so long ago, and how he yearns to be forever.

The death of Finny, is the touch of brilliance in the book, as Knowles, leads Gene and the readers through the point of no return. It is the coming-of-age of Gene, as he finally loses all contact with Finny and his innocence, and faces the reality, the war.

Brilliant also, is the fact that Knowles has used 16 year old boys, enjoying school, but looking forward to war. The war looming ahead, and the last few days of fun in the school, symbolic of the inner journey, from the peace of innocence to the violent cruel mature world.

Quoting the book:

Everyone has a moment in history which belongs particularly to him. It is the moment when his emotions achieve their most powerful sway over him, and afterward when you say to this person "the world today" or "life" or "reality" he will assume that you mean this moment, even if it is fifty years past. The world, through his unleashed emotions, imprinted upon him, and he carries the stamp of that passing moment forever

Words so beautifully woven together, but read deeply, and I am sure you will not find it hard to find that moment in your lives. It may not be a moment, but a few events here and there, which are the pillars of the bridge to the journey I have been referring to.

A truly marvelous book, an amazing read, a book for your collections.

Cricket, Racism and Everything Else

2008-01-07T15:49:00.000-06:00

I am a hard core Cricket fan. I pray to all the Gods I know on every day that the Indian team takes the field that India win. And, as with billions of Indians, I am disgusted that we lost.

Just keeping to cricket, sure the umpires did us in. But, for a team that had showed so much fight, after the first test mauling, 72 overs should not have been a big deal. Kumble, of all people, could survive that cauldron. A big question mark must be put on Yuvraj. It is one thing, not to perform, if you have a settled place in the team, or even when, you are there because the 'best' player for that position is unavailable. But, to not perform for 4 innings together, when, the team balance has been upset, when the best Indian batsman has been asked to open, which he is not comfortable with, is unacceptable.

Everyone knows that the umpires gave a slew of wrong ones, and all against India. Much has been written about the unsportsmanlike behavior of Ponting and the Aussies. But to me, India is victorious as they managed to remove the veil of the champs. In the past decade, India has been consistently competing against Australia. Barring a match or two, all the matches have gone to the wire. Before this series, the last decade was split 6-8 to the Aussies. Throw an if- in for the rained out Chennai test, it would be 7-8 to the Aussies. And that is victory enough to India (for me). On the performance against Australia alone, India deserve to be a worthy 2nd best test team in the world ( not to forget away wins in Pakistan, Windies, England, an away test win in SA and Australia). The only flaw in the India's test record would be the drawn test series in India with Pakistan and England. If India learn to finish matches, then this record would be much better.

IMO, this is a reason why Australia behaved the way they did. They are scared of the Indian Test team, and as the only team that has stretched Australia to the limit in Australia in the past decade, not once but twice, the ugly side of Australia's professionalism and will to win peeked out. Even, this ugly side to the game would not have helped, if not for the deaf and blind and meek umpires.

They may be the best team in the world, but they do not have the balls for a fight.

The other thing that this test has thrown is the Racism abuse. I (and am sure many others) consider the ban on Harbhajan to be racist ( atleast, on the basis of the news available now, 1/7/08). It was the word of a couple of 'white' aussies against a couple of 'brown' indians, as the umpires and the referee agreed that there was no conclusive video or audio proof.

Given even this to the australians, does a 'monkey' chant constitute to be racism?

What is the timeline of this slang?

It started with a group of Baroda supporters chanting Monkey Monkey at Symonds. The average Indian cricket lover, is knowledgeable about the game, its history, records, consider themselves to be better umpires than Bucknor ( which they may be too :p ), but I am sure, that they will not be aware of the ethinic make-up of the Australian team.

Symonds had tormented India in the series, and for that calling him a monkey seems to be the most meek of Indian slangs that Symonds could have received, given the colorful expletives that Indians can dish out.

The Mumbai pictures of men imitating monkeys may have gone too far, but that too is not racial IMO. These are the same Indians, who dared to call Inzy as Aloo (Potato). Now, had he been equated to some really fat animal, would that have been resulted in racism??? That is a question to ponder about.

I just do not see how 'Monkey' can be considered Racist? Where does this even come close to the horrendous 'racist' acts done by the west on the asians. Even the meekest racist comments by the west would have been more derogatory than a monkey slang. Even Brad Hogg's b******* is more derogatory than calling someone a monkey.

But from a broader perspective, IMO, this looks to be a pre-emptive position, that the west and the developed world is bound to take, as India and China grow more and more powerful.

As for everything else, the regular updates follow :)

1. Had a blast of a time in Vegas and LA and Tempe.
2. Relieved that the first semester in Wisc is over.
3. Have to work. Need an 'enthu' generating machine
4. This trip to the west coast, apart from the fun, has made me think a little, and make me contemplate a bit more. Maybe I will blog about it later.
5. Gambling sucks, if you lose money and your friends have all the luck in the world.

Exam Traditions and stories

2007-12-19T14:25:00.000-06:00

Exams seem to be the only constant for me now. I have written them in Calcutta, Madras, Bangalore, Bombay and now, in Madison. So, not surprisingly, when I should be busy pondering over state transition matrices and observability and all, I am reminiscing about Exam traditions and Exam superstitions that I have had for such a long time....

Two particularly longstanding memories of exams during school (the non-board one's), are amma shouting, exactly, bang, as the clock strikes six,"Kaushik, Vidya, come home, you have to study". Thankfully, amma and appa, unlike many other parents, decided that our study productivity can be maximized if we are allowed to play in the evening. Often times, only the two of us would be playing by ourselves in the evenings just before the exam. 6PM was the hard deadline. And the memory remains.

The other lasting memory was of the morning of the exam. Both of us (without amma compelling us) would wake up at 6AM, and start the final revision. We chose to do it, sitting right at the entrance of our kitchen, studying by the light thrown off from the kitchen bulb, as amma would be preparing tea and breakfast for us. Appa, named us the 'dwarapalakas' (I think it means guards) of the kitchen. I had a peculiar revision schedule too. The previous night, I will have made a sample question paper, complete with all marks assigned to the questions and all, and the next day, I would solve it. Amma, would in the mean time, be throwing questions at Vidya. But, the whole revision thing, would last only for an hour or so, after which we will start chatting useless stuff.

A fetish I had during school was to see how much ink I consumed during the exams. I will dutifully mark two pens, one for studying before the exam, and the one for writing them. After the end of the examination, will mark the place till which the ink got over and all.

Appa's theory about preparations always involved watching lots of T.V. the day before the exam. He totally hated the last minute preparation thingy, and used to motivate us to remain calm and enjoy the day before the exams, by recounting stories of going to cinemas to watch the night show before his college exams. Evenings before exams, for us was mostly studying till Appa came back home, and then watching Tamil movie of Sun TV till sleep overtook us. The extreme case of such fun was the day before the Social Sciences board exam ( I don't remember if it was my SST exam or Vidya's), we watched a full movie (Pre 2003/4 CBSE 10th SST exams were everyone's nightmare).

Another interesting story involved the 12th Standard Math exam. It was on the 2nd day of the epic VVS Laxman 281, India-Australia test match. On the first day, Shriram had come to my home for joint studies. The whole day was an exercise in concentration, as TV's all around us was in it maximum volume. Appa and Vidya would switch it on periodically to follow the score. And, when Bhajji took that hat-trick, the whole of Calcutta erupted, and that was that for our concentration. On the eventful 4th day, when VVS and Dravid, bat through the day, there was not much hope. As we drove to the exam, the wager was if the match would still be alive, after we finish our hindi exam. But, the events that day was so magical on the ground, I woke up all night to see the ball-by-ball highlights of the match, and spent the next day see India win, sending my Chemistry boards to the back-bench.

I don't recall having any exam superstition in School, except for the pen fetish.

College exams were completely different. Anshu and I had formally made a superstition, and we were steadfast in sticking to that. It begins by me buying a foot-long scale (note that I never used it any exam). Anshu would remind me, if don't buy that. It was exam-tradition. It would then start with me taking a shower before him, and arriving in the mess at exactly 12 noon. After lunch, we would walk to the mandir right outside college, and pray for a smooth paper, and then loiter all around college, making sure we do not answer any question related to the exam to anyone. After the exam, I would wait (I always finished in 2 hrs) for Anshu to come, and we will go and pay a visit to the temple again, to thank all the Gods (or curse them). The fetish for me was of wearing formals for the exams.

There are a lot of memories associated with VTU exams. I remember the day in my second semester, because of the packed schedule due to my carry-over exams from the first semester, I was too tired to study for my Computer and programing basics paper. I told Anshu, that I will 'Bunk' the test and write it in the following semester. Anshu, talked me out of it, by teaching the course to me, over cold coffee's and sandwiches in DL (the dhaba outside college).

VTU, in its infinite wisdom, gave a month of holidays before the exams for studying. And, having so much time to spare, it was more of just holidays rather than study holidays. There would be plans for movies, dinners and rented movies and daroo parties etc etc. But the lasting memory, was the F.R.I.E.D.S. watching spree in the third year. It was like, we study (or pretend to) for 15 minutes, and then watch (and later revise) an episode of friends. We (by which I mean my entire wing) saw most of the 8-9 seasons that were available then, in less than 10-12 days (with 15 minute spurts of serious studying in between as well).

By the time, we came to the final year, exams had lost their reverence. When even the weakest student in college realized that even Kunal Kolhi with an I.Q. of -140 (see his movies, I rest my case)cannot flunk VTU exams, studying was just another way of having fun. In the final year, most of the Hostel Chemical junta would assemble in one room, and each of us will take turn to read a page out of the S.I.T. notes, and that was the preparation.

By the time, I came to I.I.T, I was a veteran of exams (we actually celebrated the 50th VTU exam that we wrote). But, I remember, the tough day, that I had in 2006 spring exams in april, because I did not wear formals to it (cannot pull that off in the April Mumbai heat). But, apart from that, IIT days saw the daily quota of movies to be watched before the exams increase from 1 to 2. It would mean, the late night aloo-paratha and tea, followed by a length discussion on World politics and science and technology and india and other such arbitrary junk with Bhatta and Haddi, and it would mean, sleeping at 5AM and making it, groggy eyed to the test at 9AM, and sleep the whole day off after the test.

And now, this is the first end-terms for me in Madison. I think, it may as well be defined by blogging, although I managed a couple of movies in the weekend, I spent most of the time reading blogs.

The time for the exam is today is right now. I sign off, with the mental count that after todays exam, I will have at max 10 more end terms before I am done with all the exams I ever write in my life.....

Cheers!
Kaushik

The White Carpet

2007-11-22T15:09:00.000-06:00

Friends who have been a while in East/Mid West USA, keep telling that you better keep your excitement over seeing snow snubbed, as it is the only constant from December to March/April/May...

but, you cannot not be excited to see snow for the first time...

Madison, saw the first snow of the season yesterday, and I walked in the snow, and had a tiny snow fight too....

...but I woke up to the most beautiful sight....

...The white carpet of snow everywhere!

The ground was glittering with the snow, in the brilliant sunshine, white everywhere and sparkling. The sky, however, as though, it wanted to have nothing to do with the fury of the snow storm the previous evening, or like the small innocent kid, who behaves unexpectedly nicely, and flashes a large smile, thinking it will hide away his guilt, was flushed Blue.

It being Thanksgiving holidays, there was a eerie silence on the roads, hardly any one walking, hardly any car speeding past you, and nature was left to herself.

I soaked in the sight when the bus moved, adjacent to the snow carpet. On the right, I saw Lake Mendota, deep pure blue, with her cold icy waves hitting the James Madison Park, draped white. (Unfortunately, the words do not paint the picture I saw).

The scenery got even better near the Capitol. Few trees still had their leaves, turned golden, yellow and brown, the full Fall livery. Snow hung to the bare branches of the trees that had lost all its leaves. And, in the slight wind that was blowing, yellow and brown and gold leaves were falling onto the white ground below.

Later in the day, the sun was finally able to melt a little of the snow, and the earth was slightly visible, as I walked along the rail tracks to my office/lab. The snow covered only the wooden piers between the tracks and hung slightly onto the tracks themselves, but inbetween the two woden piers, there was hardly any snow. So, generally, I jump from wooden pier to the next while walking along the tracks, but today, I did the opposite. And as I walked past the coal factory, I could just see the snow melting from the heaps of coal that lay on the ground. White slowly dissolving to black...

Yup! the first experience of snow is indeed really beautiful. So what, if I get bored of the white in 5-6 months, I will enjoy the beauty that it is, at least for this first time.....

Childrens and Teachers Days

2007-11-17T20:45:00.000-06:00

Procrastination is an habit with me. So, instead of trying to figure out why the solution of n components behaves the way it does ( all so that, I pass a stupid exam), I will take another dive back into the sea of memories of all the good and happy and free days of school.

School memories always keep floating around, but the inspiration to pen this down (or rather type it out) came when I saw someone wish everyone a happy children's day, a couple of days ago, courtesy Google chat.

So, the status message, took me memory-diving

As with most of us, Children's day had been both special and a misfit for me, at different points in life. Acting adult in 9th and 10th, the children's day was definitely a misfit, but then a few years later in college, and now in Grad school, I certainly will not mind being a kid, and enjoy my 'special day'.

As a kid, Children's day was a favourite. I could do lots of stupid and naughty things, and as amma would start scolding, I could say, but "amma, it is children's day today, you cannot scold me'. And she would not. Bliss!
I could wear colour dress to school and see teachers perform dance and skit for us. I could go to school and not study. How great is that!!!

So the wish now, is to be a kid again :)

As is with memories, date, time, space are not at all a constraint. Having a great time in school also reminds me of Teacher's day. The days leading to it were also fun. Mostly, 4th September was given off for us, to prepare for Teachers day. And, most of the day was spent in decorating the class, school, and practicing songs and jokes and making cards for our teachers. As I said, School without studies, the awesomest thing ever.

One particular memory that springs up, is probably the teachers day when I was in 4th or 5th. We never did much of decoration back then, and all the songs and dance were impromptu. So, the thing to do, when the day was give off, was run around the school, playing pakda-pakdi. In the midst of such running excercise, as is common when I run, I collided and fell. Unfortunately, a sharp shard of some construction material went right through my calf, and I was bleeding profusely. There and then, I became a king, who returned from a victorious war, for a stupid impromptu skit that we put up in class for our teacher later in the afternoon. The reason that I remember this so vividly, is precisely because, whatever the story was that we had for our play, (involving something to do with Alladin), we twisted it and turned it with all our imagination to fit a king who has just come back from a war.

Another lasting memory was the Discotheque which we recreated in class for Teachers day. This was in class- 10, and there were unofficial competitions going on for which class gets the better decoration. I was not involved in the decorations (the reason for which, I will write later), but the memories remain strong. The decorations of 10-B were by far the best ever, and the lasting memory was of our teachers taking a jig to the beats of Chaiyya-Chaiyya, in the revolving lights of our disco.

10th Standard students also get to organize the School celebrations (separate from the class celebrations). The schedule was, in the morning, the students assemble, celebrate Teachers day, then there was snacks for the teachers and the select 10th standard students, and then the teachers go and participate in individual class celebrations (which may or may not have food).

So the key, the cool thing to do, was to get into the select gang of 10th standard students who have the 'eat-food' license. School Captains, House captains and other 'culturally' inclined students (the ones who dance, sing, act, paint etc) and their friends easily get to go into that group. I, obviously, was in the set that comprised of students who were any but those. But because I hung around this 'influential' group all the time, even though they quite clearly made me feel unwanted, I was drafted into the organizing committee. I was in-charge of School Decorations. But I hardly cared about that. I was a part of the select group who have access to the food, and who can take swigs at the Pepsi, and make others jealous.

I did a reasonable job of decorating the school, by bossing around juniors. I also took part (which was a surprise to everyone) in a program that some one made up called National Integration, by dressing up as a Tam-Bram, and speaking some dialogs.

Finally, though, I was accepted into the 'influential group', the gang of cool dudes in the school, with whom, I had the first taste of beer, and spent the next week scared that amma would somehow find out about it. The coolness of the cool gang vaporized soon, but what has remained with me, is the longing to participate, in whatever capacity I can, in events organized in College, and those experiences in React, 8th Mile, Placements in IIT and RVCE, has taught me a lot, and are in some ways a part of my character/ personality.

The first steps were in School, the role of the king, the story (unmentioned) here, of trying hard to be in the organizing group and contributing for the farewell function, but not being given the opportunity. The 'sabak' of realizing that only a few students in my class decide and do stuff. Trying hard to get into that group. Being ridiculed for a long time (both by people in that group, and other general members of the DOSA (department of spectators and admirers). Of finally getting to contribute to an event. The fun of doing it. The feel of success, when the work is appreciated. First time is always sweet :)

PS: I have screwed the exam. I started to write this before the test. Finished it now. But I did not study in between. I guess, I know why I screwed it up :)

You know you grew up in India in the 90s when....

2007-10-27T15:42:00.000-05:00

Got this as a forward from a friend today, and there are loads of points in it, that does take you back to the 'growing-up days'. Red's are my comments/views/experiences....

"You know you grew up in India in the 90s when...." is a group in facebook. And it is hilarious! Everyone of us should be able to relate to more than one of these!!! Have fun! :-)

1) You know the words to 'In-pin-safety-pin' and 'akkad-bakkad' by heart :
For kolkata chaps, you have to akir-mikier-chaam-chikir' :)
2) Cricket is almost a religion for you, and you idolize at least one of Kapil Dev/Rahul Dravid/Sachin Tendulkar/Saurav Ganguly
Come on Dravid
3) You have read at least some Chacha Chaudhary or Tinkle comics
Still do! Got to ask the Indian store owner if he can get Tinkle here
4) You've watched Shaktimaan on TV at least once in your life. And you can immediately recognize the character when you see him.
I can recognize him, but I have not watched even a single episode of it. (And, it is not too bad a costume for haloween is it?)
5) You have some 'NRI' relatives.
Hoping that I do not become one for my relatives
6) You couldn't wait for it to be December so you could have the Toblerone chocolates your NRI relatives brought you
Missed that
7) You watched Cartoon Network, and then the late night movies on TNT that came after Cartoon Network ended.
Scooby-Dooby do, yabba dabba doo, zoykes.....
8) You watched corny dubbed versions of Small Wonder, Silver Spoon, and I Dream of Jeanie
Sony TV/Star TV rocks....school used to start at 11:30, and the daily schedule was Silver Spoons/ Who is the Boss/ Bewitched/ Richie Rich (on Cartoon network) before going to school and Small Wonder in the evening
9) You were THRILLED when McDonald's opened in your neighborhood (or even eight kilometers away)
Surprisingly, the first time I went to McD, was in Mumbai, March 2006
10) Your first burgers were at Wimpy's or Nirula's.
N/A
11) A visit to Pizza Hut used to mean a special treat
I still get treats in Pizza Hut.
12) You have seen Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Hum Aapke Hain Kaun at least 5 times each
Yes!!!
13) You still remember the theme song to Hum Paanch.
No, but reminds me of the awesome TV programing of Door-darshan, with Tu-Tu-Main-Main, Dekh bhai dekh, zabaan sambhal ke, shriman shrimati, marshall, kanoon, tehkikaat, ajnabee
14) You have played hours upon hour of Pukdam-pakdai, oonch-neech, kho-kho,'Doctor,doctor, help us!', 'Lock and key'
Countless hours!
15) You have played 'Uma Joshi' more times than you can remember.
who is Uma Joshi?
16) Dog 'in' the bone was your favorite co-ed game.
It is an interesting game
17) Much of your free time in school was spent playing UNO.
Reminds me of the train trip from Bombay to Kolkata, when the train got 24 hours late, and all the time was spent playing 'UNO' and the memory game with co-passengers.
18) You collected trump cards of wrestlers, cricketers, and airplanes, and did not quite understand why your younger siblings were obsessed with Pokemon and the other Japanese trends that followed.
Yes! Hulk Hogan had 1st rank, and Yokozuna had the largest chest size. What is the pokemon?
19) Your summer vacations were often synonymous with visiting your grandparents
Got to refer you to this
20) Your parents, at some point, told you 'Dark Room' was a bad game to play. But you still loved playing it.
Why was it a bad gam?
21) Bole mere lips, I love uncle Chips!
yummy! but amma never used to let us have them when we wanted it. Always used to refuse buying it. (we = me and my sister)
22) You know the song 'Made in India' by Alisha Chinoi
That song was a craze
23) You have seen many many many episodes of 'Antakshri' on Zee TV and know the only thing constant in the show is Anu Kapoor.
He still is! Only that he has migrated from zee to star
24) Amy evenings have been spent watching little kids gyrate vulgarly on Boogie Woogie on Sony.
Boo-
25) You were the coolest thing in class if you had a computer in your house while it was still the 90s.
Oh! remember the night-outs at our place playing Cricket-97 (or some thing like that) and Dink Smallwood
26) You learnt LOGO in school!
and I made Titanic using it
27) You couldn't wait to start 4th/6th standard so you could start writing with PENS instead of with pencils!
So very true! It was 4th standard for me, and I was like the BIG boy then....and often made my sister cry because she was still with pencils
28) You often you terms and phrases like 'kutti', 'abba', 'same to you, back to you, with no returns', and 'shame shame, puppy shame, all the donkeys know your name.'
and a lot more
29) You most probably saw Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge at the cinema at least once. You also fantasized singing songs in mustard fields like in the movie.
Reminds me however of third year in college, when Anshu and I revised the movie so so many times
30) You have seen David Dhawan and Govinda movies and laughed at them.
My favourite is Deewana-Mastana! It was riot, but may be because we went to the movie as a gang of 10-12
31) You have said 'haw' or 'haw ji ki pwji' when you saw people kissing in English movies
or tried to watch '15+" english movies on star plus by pretending to watch golf/EPL etc
31) You have seen Titanic at least 12 times.
First time itself was a pain
32) You thought seeing English movies and speaking English made you the coolest thing ever.
There are people who still think that :)
33) You remember the Orissa cyclone, even though you didn't know what a cyclone was.
I remember the days leading up to the cyclone. There was a slight effect of it in Kolkata. And, I really felt the lull before the storm. Also, remember traveling through Orissa, a few months after the cyclone, but still being able to spot its ravage.
34) You remember the Gujarat earthquake very clearly and could possibly tell everyone EXACTLY what you were ding when the earthquake occurred.
I remember another earthquake in Latur.
35) Barbies for girls, and GI Joes for boys were the ultimate status symbols. You just wanted more more more and more. And how can I forget Hot Wheels, for both boys and girls?
I had a few hot-wheels. Never collected them though
36) You have worn Osh-Kosh B'gosh and United Colours of Benetton clothes while growing up. And you thought 'imported' clothes were definitely way better than 'made in India' clothes (never mind that a lot of clothes brought from overseas by NRI relatives were actually made in India, before 'Made in China' started appearing on EVERY existing thing)
I had a favorite Singapore T-shirt
37) You know the words to 'Posham Paa', and like it better than 'Oranges and Lemons' even though you'd sing the latter to sound cool (see 32 above).
I only remember Oranges and Lemons
38) At some point or other, cool was your favourite, and therefore, most overused word.
Cool
39) Captain Planet was your first introduction to environmental consciousness.
That was super smart of Cartoon Network people eh!
40) You have tried to convince people around you to not burst crackers on Diwali, and then gone straight back home and burst them yourself.
Diwali without crackers ain't diwali
41) You have had endless packets of Parle Gluco G biscuits, and of Brittania Little Hearts biscuits.
42) You loved licking off the cream from the centre of Bourbon biscuits.
And the cheap cream biscuits too from the corner shop
43) There were no Nike, Reebok, Adidas, Puma- Bata and Liberty was the way to go for your sports shoes.
They are still good, I think
44) You have probably consumed more Frooti in your lifetime than there is oil in Iraq.
or Rasna or Gold-Spot
45) You watched Baywatch on Star World even though (or because) your parents said you shouldn't watch it.
Never liked it, but ya! have watched it. There however, used to be a time on star movies, where much 'better' things than baywatch used to air.
46) You bought packets of potato chips for the specific purpose of collecting Tazoa. And you had Tazos depicting everyone from Confucius to Daffy Duck to Daffy Duck dressed as Confucius.
Do not remember this, but do remember collecting Cricket Stars cards. Sachin was a rarity in those.
47) For the longest time, the Maruti 800, the Premier Padmini, THE Fiat, and THE Ambassador were the only cars you saw on the road, and the Contessa was cool because it was bigger.
Yup! I always pestered appa to get the Contessa because it was so cooool
48) You would literally jump up in excitement if you ever chanced upon an imported car (Oh my gosh, is that really a MERCEDES?)!
You still say gosh! it is a mercedes
49) You spent a good part of 1998 drooling over the Hyundai Santro and the Daewoo Matiz , debating which one was better.
50) You used to chew Big (big) Babool and/or Boom Boom Boomer chewing gum. They were bright pink and disgusting tasting, but you loved them for the temporary tattoos.
Ya! Chewing gum was considered cool too
51) Talking of temporary tattoos, you sometimes had contests with your classmates about who had more tattoos on their arm, leg, knee, hand, forehead, wherever.
Nah!
52) You thought Mario and Tetris were the coolest things ever invented, especially if you were a boy.
Mario is the coolest TV game ever. period.
53) You knew that having the latest Hero or Atlas bicycle would make you the coolest kid on the block.
Oh! to have MTB cycle, with those extra little horn like things on the handlebar. That was the fad. I sulled for many days because my cycle did not have that
54) You can imitate Sushmita Sen's winning gasp to perfection.
Nah!
55) You have, at some point of time, worn GAP clothes (real or fake) like SRK in KKHH.
or the chain with 'cool' spelled out on it.
56) Seemingly senseless acronyms like SRK, DDLJ, KKHH actually make sense to you.
57) You have at some point debated who was more beautiful- Aishwarya or Sushmita.
58) If you lived in Delhi, you went bowling at Essex Farms, or Go-Karting at 32nd Milestone and couldn't think how you could get any cooler than that.
Looks like the writer has drifted into early 2000's. The coolest thing in Calcutta, 1997-99 was 3rd Agenda gaming parlor and one more next to Lighthouse cinema, and the ice cream parlor scoop next to Lighthouse.
59) Baskin Robbins ice-cream was THE thing to have!
60) You know what Campa Cola is. And you also knew that Coca Cola was THE drink.
61) When you would watch WWF keenly every evening/afternoon and really think that Undertaker had 7 lives and he made an "actual" appearance in the Akshay Kumar- starrer Khiladiyon ka Khiladi.
They really had us fooled
62) When all backpacks (or 'schoolbags') and water bottles and tiffin boxes had strange cartoon characters that were hybrid versions of seven or eight different characters, and you still bought them, because a green man wih a water pistol, boots, a jet-pack, Johnny bravo hair, a rajasthani mustache, gloves, and underwear (long johns) over his pants, called 'Mr. X' was OBVIOUSLY a status symbol.
63) You remember the Nirma tikia jingle.
Washing powder nirma, doodh se safedi....
also char boondon waala ujaala
64) You remember the Nirma girl.
65) You remember the 'doodh doodh' ad and also the 'roz khao andey' ads.
Doodh-Doodh to me is the best TV-ad I have seen
66) You grew up reading, if you read at all, some or all of Nancy Drews, Enid Blyton books, Hardy Boys, Babysitters Club, Animorphs, Sweet Valley series, Judy Blumes, and Tintin, or Archie comics. Because naturally, reading foreign authors made you much coller than reading Tinkle.
Love Archies, but Tinkle rocks!!!!!
67) Towards the late 90s (1998-99) at least some of us started our Harry Potter obsessions!
68) You absolutely HAD to go to Essel World if you wnet to Mumbai! "Essel World mein rahoonga main, ghar nahin nahin jaaonga main!"
For people who grew up in Calcutta, it was Nicco Park.
69) You watched the Bournvita Quiz contest on TV pretty religiously. The smarter ones amongst you actually took part in it and had your entire school and your entire extended families watch you on it!
Everyone saw BQC
70) "Jungle jungle baat chali hai, pata chala hai. Chaddi pehen ke phool khila hai, phool khila!"
90s Classic! Yay for Rudyard Kipling and Doordarshan adaptations!
Sundays had to have mowgli.

Aasthe Bochor Abaar hobe *

2007-10-20T23:57:00.000-05:00

The door-bell rings at 3Am in the morning. For an instant, I think that it is the doorbell to our apartments in my dreams, and that I open the door and let my friends in.
The door-bell rings again. For another instant, I think that it is to doorbell to our apartment in my dreams, and that I open the door and let my friends in. A Deja-vu in my dreams. Some logical part of my brain kicks into action, and decides that it is the real life doorbell that is ringing. I strain my ears a little to listen to a couple of people shouting 'Apartment-D' from below.

For another instant again, an insane part of the brain starts to dominate. What if, they were a couple of robbers, waiting down with a gun in their hands. And, then to add spice to the masala, my phone rings. That totally gives me the creeps. As I slowly walk to my phone and pick it up, a flash of relief. It is my apartment-mate. The bell ringing has also woken him up. And, he is as scared as I. 'Do we go down and investigate?', he asks. I, without a second thought reply in the negative. My life is too precious to be taken by a maniac with a gun, I think.

The bell rings again. This time, I dare a peek through the window at the main gate. A couple, totally drunk are standing there. The fear of death gone, I am angry that a couple of drunken idiots are playing a prank on us. Then the guy starts speaking feverishly on the phone, and the girl starts feverishly searching in her purse. Both of them are hardly able to stand. They manage to ring the doorbell once again though. I had no idea what they wanted or when they would stop.

Suddenly, the girl yells 'I have found it'. And it is the key to the apartment. They get in. I get back to my bed. My apartment-mate then calls me all tensed up, 'they are going to knock on our doors now. What are we going to do'. I assure him that they were some people living in the building, and get back to sleep. But for some more time, my ears were alert to a knock!

Maha-Navami is the best day of the Durga Pujo. No second thoughts on that. The first pujo in Madison, and I was really sad and low that, I will have to spend it confined to our apartments with some arbit assignment in my hand, that I will hardly understand. So, in full desperation, I googled for durga pujo and Madison, and lo!, I found that there actually was a Durga pujo in Madison (or to put is properly in Verona). So, with all gusto, I call up my bong friend, Nirjhar, and we decide to visit the pujo.

So, I wake up early on MahaNavami (atleast Maha Navami in USA), and go to Verona to see the pujo. And it was like there was a hole in the time-space continuum and I was transported back to India. I, am surrounded by quite a lot of Indians, but it felt so great to see Indians from our parents generation. Don't know why, but it felt great, different and better. Also, it was really nice to see people dresses up in dhuti-panjaabi and sari. It felt great to the prasad and bhog arranged in front of the moorti. It felt great to see people making the dodikormo. It felt like India, with the incense stick and the kapur aroma filling the hall. The Dhak (albeit played by a total stranger to any kind of percussion) sounded brilliant. The sounds of the Indian bhajan and shlokas from the tape-recorder was awesome. Everything took me back to Kolkata in 2000 (the last pujas I spent in Kolkata), as I joined my hands and prayed to the Madison-Verona-Maa Durga.[1]

Pictures always speak better.

The evening got even better. Voice Chat is an amazing invention. Voice Chat with web camera is even more amazing. Voice chat with conferencing is thrice as good. For the first time since May, I spoke to my sis and my parents at the same time, and once again, it felt like being in India. And as usual, my sis and I paired up and took the toll heavily on appa (who loves it totally, when we do that). Ah! those times!!!

[1]: As we sat and waited for the cab, Nirjhar and I were discussing is it worth to come to America and settle here, in a strange land amidst strangers, for a better job, and more money and good lifestyle? Although, we had both come because of either or all of the three conditions to the US, our answer was No! I want to spend my best festivals amidst a city that comes to a still because of that festival, and that can happen only in India.

*we will celebrate again in the next year

irony and philosophy

2007-10-18T16:27:00.000-05:00

that the day before my mid-term exam, all I could think of was sleeping, and I did sleep. Studies kept getting postponed :(

and the after the exam is over, I hardly feel like sleeping :)

(Obviously, statistical thermodynamics is too boring. To not sleep when studying it is a disgrace to the subject)

...but on a philosophical level, this brings me to my views on Research/ UG ChemEng curriculum etc etc:

The pinch of salt with my views is that, I have never worked in my life. Another pinch of salt, is that my view of 'research' is pretty much that which has been born and matured in India.

So, a few weeks ago, we had this onerous task of deciding our thesis advisers. A PhD is a life-time's work, given that you will rarely change the field you will be working on after a PhD. To make this decision, we ( meaning the Fall2007 CBE grad students) had to attend talks by the faculty about their research and general work being done in their group. We had to follow this up with one on one meetings with faculty we are interested in and read papers after papers and narrow in on the faculty/area we wanted to work with/in.

This method to select, is just slightly better than the one at IIT-B, but still fails (at least IMO).
What I felt missing, in both the places where some judgment on the application of the research.

Chemical (& Biological) Engineering, is presently a very confused field. There seems to be hardly any connect between what we read during our undergraduate and what is being taught in graduate courses. Most obvious amongst those is that for 4 years we are taught more than 50 courses, and the first course that we are advised to take in Graduate school is an Mathematics course, as it lays the foundation for most of the analysis in the papers.

Well, at this point, I even question the stuff being taught in traditional Chemical Engineering, a.k.a. the undergraduate curriculum. I have definitely not seen any demand for knowledge of these fields in India ( I will be happy to eat my words if I find things are different in America) in both the places where you think mastery over the concepts will be important. The Process industries mainly want 'managers', but mainly people who are technology-scared, those who will do something because the user's manual says to do so. The industrial research component is mostly missing in India, but from what I have heard about the Research divisions of GE/Shell etc in India, research in traditional chemical engineering fields do not rank among top priorities. That leaves, academic research institutes, which frankly, boils down to the IITs. Research in traditional chemical engineering in IIT is non existent.

In America, so far, I have not interacted with the companies, but traditional chemical engineering research here, is not there at all.

I am not too sure about the development of research interests in students who do UG outside India, but for Indian UG-Chemical engineers, applying for MS/PhD is mainly because
a.) Some subject really interests him
b.) America calling
c.) Both of the above

Now, if I just consider the narrow (unfortunately narrow) subset of students in the a.) category: All they have before plunging into a decision to pursue research are
1.) Faculty meeting and websites
2.) A quick read over some published papers in the field.

Grad school, by itself admits that UG ChemEng does not prepare you to understand the papers. Faculty meeting can only take you so far, because you do not have any idea about what the work is like.

So, what do you base the decision for selecting your work on?

You join Grad school and you are bombarded with courses and faculty research interest that you have hardly heard of before. I sit through classes on Statistical Thermodynamics, I listen to professors talking about simulating the DNA in a fluid flowing in a micro-conduit, or about predicting catalyst behavior using quantum chemistry, or about designing a bio-polymer that may do something, and all I see is a big dis-connect.

Some questions that I want to ask before taking up a work will be among these
What does these research accomplish. Are there successes in these fields. If so, what are they?
How will the world use my work? Will it be useful? Perhaps the most glaring dis-connect that I see is that if these fields like biological re-engineering of genes, simulation of DNA particles in a box and other such things, quantum chemistry are driving the research in Chemical Engineering, why am I not, introduced to them(at least as epilogues) in the UG course work.

I took the decision to work in Systems on a whim. Prior to joining IIT, I wanted to work in Thermodynamics, as I found it the most interesting. A semester of Statistical Mechanics, made me think otherwise, and I took the project that involved building on concepts introduced to me in my most favourite 1st sem course at IIT-B.

But is everyone so lucky to enjoy the field they chose to (Can we trust our genes on this?)
And from a bigger perspective, I would like to know the scope, the effectiveness, the impact of research in most fields ( atleast in CBE). The present system, just does not give that insight.

Cheers!
K

a post 45 days too late

2007-10-13T20:22:00.000-05:00

It has been just a little over a month that I have been in Madison, and yet, India feels a lifelong ago.

I had wanted to write about the last couple of days before I left Bombay and my first couple of days here in Madison, for a long time, but my sleep and laziness got the better of me.

August 2007 has been a completely mixed month, bitter-sweet, magical, dreamy and the least bit boring.

End of July was really hectic, with all the thesis writing, and more thesis writing. But the defense (what a phrase, I am defending my thesis tomorrow!) was a breeze. I had already written before about packing and leaving the hostel, the emotions that packing brews, and that after-taste. This time around, the memories were different, but the sadness of leaving was the same.

However, the lasting memory of IIT that lingers on inside me is that one afternoon, walking in a slight drizzle, just after selling my cycle, first to H-4 and then to H-12, listening to 'It-aint me babe' by Dylan on the loop. This just before, I took the taxi home. IIT is a beautiful campus to walk around, and more so when there is a slight drizzle. And, the 1 hour or so that I walked that day, I was reliving the days in IIT, the dreadful sleepless first semester, the excitement with which I attacked research at the beginning of the second semester, movie watching, linux learning, PAFs, MoodI, Placements, the long lonely walks, the wait for Friday evening and taking the 524 home. Weekends for most part of the two years was spent at home, but somehow, home seemed, then to be a part of the campus.

Commuting between home and the lab was a long 1 hour and 30 minutes by the bus. And, it was a perfect time to paint my dreams. Once the admit came, dreaming of America in the bus became like a ritual (Oh! all the great things I will do with my PhD, my own company, teach etc etc etc), but the real import, the feeling that, I will be on a flight to USA, stuck me, not when I got my tickets, not when I got the visa, but really surprisingly, when I went shopping for clothes and suitcases, and learned how to differentiate between sambhar dal and ven-pongal dal.

Convocation day was one of the perfect day's that I have ever had. Graduation day ceremony, the way everyone knows it is going to happen, always sounds dull and boring. First you listen to someone ramble on about stepping out of the university to the outside world, and then you wait and watch 500 people go to the stage to get their degrees. But, when you are one in that 500, the whole ceremony is really special, and you feel awfully proud when you get on to the stage and collect your degree, a feeling that you will never get when you see your degree lying in your mailbox. The fact that 1000+ IIT'ans sat quietly for over 2.5 hours, watching friends get their degrees, is proof enough that the Convocation day is going to remain fresh in our memories for a long long time. And the noise that we made, once the last student received his degree and we finished the graduates oath.

I was really lucky that my parents were with me, and they could come and watch the convocation. The joy and pride reflecting from their faces, is something that I will not dare try to find words for. I am just happy that I could, in some way, make them proud of me.

The day before I left, I wanted to live a huge many days into a single day, wanted time to go as slow as possible and wanted everyone I knew to be at my home. None of it happened, but still, it was a day that lingers on and on. 24 years in India, and memories that jump out at the thought of home, are the moments from the 19th of August. I never received so many calls on the same day.

The lasting memory of 19th is the two trips that I made to Nerul station, once with appa, and then in the evening with amma. Both the jaunts, were surreal to say the least. All three of us (and of couse vids in chennai) were sad, yet happy and instead of talking about missing eachother and all, we planned for future reunions. But the sadness was pent up, and it slowly seeped out later in the evening, as we sat waiting for the cab, and discussing so many things, from my research interests, to the dosage of advice, to life ahead, to discussing about relatives, to remembering the fun time in calcutta/chennai, to remembering tatha and patti. Our eyes were moist, and I am sure, all three fought really hard against the tears.

The final trip (atleast for quite some time) on the streets of Bombay, was with a heavy heart, and all the excitement of America was forgotten. The crying faces in CST airport hardly helped. But somehow, as I dragged my luggage into the security check area, a switch in the states happened. I was fearing that I would completely break down, but a sudden calm took over me, I felt ready. And I felt the same feeling, change of state in my parents thoughts too ( yes! i sensed it). Those final minutes before I went to security check, was spent talking about all the nothings, totally arbit and useless stuff, finding something to laugh in almost anything, the real good times.

The flight was nothing eventful, largely because I slept through it.

Adjusting to America was another surprise for me. I did not think that it would be so easy. But for that I will be indebted to Asim, my apartment-mate here, for doing all the basic initial work, so that I could ease into America.

Life, except of-course for the cursed coursework, has been really wonderful here for the last month and a half, with nice friends and interesting conversations and movies and food and all the adventure and novelty of living alone, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning etc...

Just hope that it remains so for the rest of the 4 or 5 years that I have to stay in Madison.

IIT!!!!

2007-08-03T15:59:00.000-05:00

The magic, the charm of passing out of IIT is that (apart from being treated like a royal in the job market) you are inspired.
Inspired by the host of alumni who have passed out ahead of you and have made a mark in whatever they have done.
You step in, and realize that all these super successful people, were once in your shoes, doing the things you are doing now, and that there is the inspiration to think big.
And, that for me is the magic of IIT, to read about the exploits of its alumni, to see how they have given back to the institute, as hostel wings or labs or awards, is the confidence booster that I too can one day make it big. If they could, so can I.

I have to write about my second day in the campus. It will be one of the memories that will be instantly recalled when I think back. 27th July, the day after the Mumbai deluge. 1m of rain (yes 1 meter) had fallen the previous day. The whole of mumbai was under water. My room was too. Having hardly slept the previous night, we wake up the next day, and see some students heading in the general direction of the academic block. I (and my friends), newcomers as we were, had assumed that surely, it will be a holiday. Seeing people wading through towards the academic area, we call up the department and ask if classes are on. The reply: Why should they be not. That day, some classes were conducted in ankle deep water!

A lot is written in IIT discussion forums about the classes being boring, the professors not being good etc. In my opinion, teaching and learning cannot be separated. Your teacher cannot do much, if you are not in a mood to learn. IMO, that is one of the biggest problems in the IIT (and many other colleges too). Students, without interest or flair in engineering are pushed into it by parents/society, and they come to class, with the intention of just finishing the course. And this is a major demotivation for the teachers. The lure of IIT, is the awesome jobs. Student's dont take much time to find out that High CPI does not correspond to a great job. The emphasis that 'hot' companies( meaning the the jobs that every student on campus covets) put on extra currics
(especially in IIT, as most of them take clearing JEE as equivalent exemplary academic qualifications). It does not help that the 'hot' jobs are consulting and finance, who don't care if you know your VLSI or mass transer, so students attend this class with PAF or MoodI in their mind.

Personally, I found all the courses that I took in IIT to be extraordinary. The professors are awesome, the courses are cutting edge, and if you want to 'learn', no place else can come close.

Previously, I had written about wholesome development, and that whole article can smugly fit in here. The freedom to do what you want, is something that every student in IIT will cherish and miss once she moves on. And it is this freedom, which lets you explore yourself in things that you feel you are good in. Luckily, from what I have seen, meritocracy is also respected in IIT.
If you are good in something, you are valued. (I just can't finish without writing from the placement angle! Companies love people who have their feet in more than one boat, and that is incentive enough to discover new talents in you)

I am quite academically inclined, and hence, for me, the greatest reward from IIT was the 'respect' that my professors gave me. This is a feeling, that I am much unable to put into words, but the fact that my professors believe that I will do great, not only in my PhD but also as a future researcher (if I take an active R&D job) is flattering. Sometimes, I feel that I don't deserve the high pedestal that I am in, but that is the charm of the whole thing!

My involvement with Campus recruitment, started in RVCE, when a small talk by an alumi, Mr. Gautam Kini, motivated a few of us to take things in our hands. The everlasting memory of that is when a friend got placed, and the first person he hugged was your's truly, and attributed his success to my efforts. I can still feel the sweetness of that moment.

At IIT, everything was much magnified, but to me, the big prize of being in the placement team was when the company and the student, thank us! And testimony to our efforts was the fact that some 400 juniors assembled in the LT to listen to us, give placement funda. An evening that I will always remember.

I am passing out an inspired man, and hope that some day, I also inspire a student walking in...

Cats and dogs falling on monday, ain't it a little too soon [7]

2007-06-24T02:14:00.000-05:00

Wake up to the sound of the rain, plat plat, plat, diffused through your window, early in the morning. Open the window. Diffused day. A dull grey sky. Rain pelting down. Hills in the background hidden behing the curtain of water. Closer still, a redder earth, greener leaves, light green grass, enlivened by the rain, bearing its brunt. Accentuated colors. Lazily brush your teeth. Suddenly enjoy the cold water running down the tap. An extra splash. Lighted corridoor, but a sense of darkness in the mind. Go down to the mess. Hot tea, watching the rain, trees dancing to the breeze...

...the rain stops. An eerie silence, as though someone has paused everthing. The sun bullied to submission by the clouds, dares a peek suddenly. Bathes the earth in sunshine. Frogs, crickets, birds, in turn, take a peek from their shelter. Sunshine. Birds start to sing, frogs to croak, crickets start cricketing. Silence over, in just a moment.

Take the cycle. Roads flushed clean by the rain. Small streams of water by the side of the road, gushing towards the nullah and the lake. Droplets of water, just about to fall from leaves. Droplet falls. Another comes to replaces it, just about to fall. A lonely bird, all wet, with ruffled feathers, the dog, twisting its body free of water.

Cycle moves on, the wheels splitting a thin film of water on the ground. Invisible. Water splashes on both sides of the wheels, older people, pants foldedto their knees, black umberella, on the morning walk, sidestep to avoid the splash. Small puddles. Kids in red, green, blue, transperent raincoats, jump around, irreverent to their rin-white uniforms...

...a warmhole, time jumps, another age, another place.

A kid now. Red raincoat, heavy bag, waterbottle in hand, waiting for the bus, on a dry patch. Civilization restarts. Uncle's and Aunty's buying fresh fish. Bargaining. The newspaper guy arranges his stall. Small desk, full of news, english, hindi, bengali, covered all, in transperent white plastic. People huddle around him. Opinions opiniated, cigarrettes shared, chai sipped. The sweet shop owner raises his shutters. Hot shingara (samosa) aroma prods, urges everyone to the sweet shop.

The wooden bus arrives. Windows just open. Water sticking to the frame. Fresh air battles with the smell of dampness. Sets still damp. Bus moves, a little nap as the cool breeze hits your face...

...department, shady spot for cycle. Signature, mandatory attendence. Lab, A.C., lights, computer, orkut, gmail, thesis...

...Outside, the heavens open again.

Yes! the rains are here!!!!!

Staring into infinity

2007-06-20T15:08:00.000-05:00

Sitting in a dark room,
Losing myself,
Staring into infinity.

Reliving the past,
Dreaming the future,
Confused & Sad & Excited & Expectant & Lost.

History does not change, the future is yet to come,
Today is too long.

What should have been done, what had been done.
What may I do, what will I do?
Choices made, Choices to make.
Will yesterday repeat tomorrow, Will yesterday contrast tomorrow?

Will life and dreams get entwined ,
or will they remain forever parallel

Keep learning,
But can old lessons meet new challenges
Yesterday was bad, Would Tomorrow be any good?

Old bonds,
How many more storms can they survive?
New bonds,
How strong would they be?

Old wounds,
Healing now.
New Wounds,
Would they heal?

Fifty years from now, Everything is history
What would be my story?
Happy, Sad, Content
A story of opportunities lost, A story of opportunities grabbed?
A story of decisions gone wrong, A story of decisions bang on?
A story of mistakes repeated, A story of mistakes avoided?
A story to forget, A story to remember?

Well, Time will tell
but fast that it is, it is bloody too slow.

I am back :D

2007-05-09T12:19:00.000-05:00

Frankly, had got bored with the whole blog thing. The world's still raving about it.
Anyways, Parry wrote this about education.

And that prompted me to write this (though not initially as a blog, but as a comment on Parry's blog, which then got too big for a comment). Here it is

Education policy as such has gone totally out of control in India.

I believe is the problem with not enjoying classes in schools are
1. Parental pressure
2. Bad teachers

And the biggest culprit behind these two is US, as a part of the society. Sad but true, our society stinks...it is a place where what the collective believes is correct

(was reading an article yesterday about Indians and sex, why is it so taboo. The author says that the society has not grown beyond culture. Earlier girls were 12-13 when they were married and boys a couple of years elder to them, which turned out to be exactly the time when the sexual juices begin to flow. Surely, the couple then had sex and explored their desires, but the whole concept of sex only after marriage gets mis-interpreted, as now marriages take place only after 22-24.Culture is hampering normal human growth leading to increased cases of vulgarity, rape, pre-marital pregnancy etc etc. The blame then is on the poor teenagers...)

Coming back to what I was telling, the only thing our society understands is Marks, which they believe lead to a stable job and income. The only number that evaluates your intelligence is your marks. Dhoni is a aberration for the society. He is immensely talented, our average kids are not. The pressure to score is so much that parents force their kids to rote, to get >90%. They do not allow the child to enjoy the process of studying. As you said, they do not allow you to visualize history, play mock 1857 wars with your friends, read NGC, watch pictures to understand geography etc.

And society is to blame for poor teachers. In india, teachers are paid pittance. All the uber rich trusts and education society that runs these schools, consider teacher to be a commodity, you lose one, you get another. They do not think of them in terms of investment, which in turn leads to poor quality of people coming as teachers. It is a profession by choice, but unfortunately. here it is a profession by circumstance. You cannot be a good teacher. if you do not enjoy teaching. The mess kids liked our classes because we Loved taking those classes. But now imagine that you are teaching mass transfer.I doubt how much enthusiasm you will transfer to the class. I can add, that this pathetic situation is due to lack of visionary leaders in the country, leaders who dream of making changes, people like raja ram mohan roy etc, but finally it is our society that runs through the fabric of the country, and ours is a society that does not respect teachers and the circle continues.

But who changes this? Can we take the bull by the horns and change our regressive society, a society where the vanzara community stands behind the police officer who ordered the murder of an innocent(?) man, or a society which puts a case against hrithik and aish because they kissed in a movie, or a teacher who wants to ban star movies because it is bringing in the western culture. Are we free? Why is the western culture so popular amongst the young indians, why is that people who make decisions resent the western culture...and it is because our so called culture stifles freedom, gives some people control (parents over who their child should marry!), while the western culture is centered around freedom.

I was lucky to have been in a school were there were teachers who loved to teach (History and Geography especially), parents who were not demanding. I will probably be the same with my children, but do I have the courage and will power to change other people (people especially from rural areas where they have been taught our culture/society is the only thing good in the evil world, the hindu/muslim way of living as a society is the best, it has no loopholes?) I don't know.

Since, I have decided to blog, will just post some updated for reflecting back when I read this blog later

Am flying to USA, to become a PhD, god knows what after that. Come August, I will be here
Am done with my responsibilities as Institute Placement Nominee. Enjoyed it would be an understatement. An experience in learning that will stay with me forever ( and help in my jobs as well, I hope)
Attended my cousin's engagement in April. Feel so sad that I will have to miss her marriage in September.
Planning to attend another cousin's engagement in June. Feel so sad that I will have to miss her marriage also in September. (Ah! If , Air Deccan flew Chennai-Madison)
Attended a slew of Valfi's (Valedictory functions)
Went Trekking
Sprained my ankle
Visa interview on 24th may
Paper submission deadline on Monday, and I am here blogging!

Not too much of a surprise that my life has settled down to a steady state. The next few days/months/years is going to be colourful, as is with a transition....

Cheers!
Kaushik

What I want from Life

2007-01-23T13:14:00.000-06:00

Some books just stay with you; the words just come out of the paper and hover around you; make you feel that perhaps given a choice, this is exactly what you would have written.

'Select' is a book-lover's eden. Located ironically, in a quiet street corner, off Brigade road, you could just get lost in the books there for years. I will not engage in futile attempts to describe their collection. Some of the best books that I have read in the past couple of years have been purchased there. It is a sort of place, where the book will find you (and not the other way round). Just being there is a wonderful experience.

I tend to overbuy at Select, and consequently, I 're-discovered' this book, lying in my shelf last weekend. It is titled- 'What I want from Life', a collection of essays about what 15 prominent theater personalities from the 1930's wanted from Life.

Initially, I tried to think about what I was thinking when I got this book! Why the hell should I care about what 15 people want from life, and that too from theater personalities, who would use such opportunities only for their benefit.

But, how mistaken was I?
I felt the need to post about the book, where other more important things in my life has not inspired me to do so![1]

The first essay is not that inspiring, for it is titled- 'I want nothing', but the author presents it such a beautiful way, of the aim of life to be try to grow to a position where you get to Do nothing. Gracie Fields, then just shows how seemingly easy other peoples jobs look from where we look, and how you continue to grow and expand in your quest to get to the 'Do nothing' job, along the way doing lots of things that makes you happy.

The next essay by Sir Cederic Hardwicke is about Man's ability that separates him from other animals- that to change things around him.

..The whole history of civilization is a study in leaps and pauses. For a year, ten years, a century, mankind will stand still, content to do as father and grandfather did. Then something will ferment in the soul of the race, a great reformer or pioneer or prophet will arise, and all the little reformers will do their bit towards pushing along to the next stage in our development.

I want to be one of these reformers. I am content to make a virtue of necessity and modestly disclaim to be a great reformer; I am resigned to being one of the myriad little ones; but I propose to be a very good little one...

It may not fall to many of us to find a state of affairs to which our peculiar talents may be applied with spectacular results; but spectacle is not the main or even a very important aspect of the most successful efforts...

Dame Sybil Thorndike, then writes about how the whole world is one single family, and beautifully draws similarities between the secrets of a successful family and a peaceful world. Fay Compton, writes about Cruelty, specially to animals.

Seymour Hicks writes one of the best essays, when (s)he(?) writes about 'Naturalness', of how we are living a world where we are everybody except ourselves.

...No, what we have to do is to tend in the direction of simplification; to stop wearing paten leather that lets in the wet. Let the bank clerk be a bank clerk, a cricketer be a cricketer and not a journalist, the advertisement be an advertisement and not disguise itself as ''Home Hint''.

Let's all gradually start afresh, level, genuine, honest and authentic; and for God's sake let's try to remember that, old school tie or no old school tie, we shall all smell alike in our coffins.

Gertrude Lawrence writes about 'remembering' the past, not only to reflect back on happier times, but more importantly to get your sense of proportion right, during the not so good times.

Paul Robeson, writes about finding out about our roots, and learning to be 'proud' about it and preserve it and the fallacy of mimicing the others (he being a negro, it is a brilliant piece, set in 1930's segregrated america).

Merle Oberon talks about the need for romance and adventure in life (romance has its roots in latin romanice, meaning 'in the vulgar tongue').

Charles Bickford, gets to within an inch of what I would probably have written, when he writes- 'I want to find out'. In his words

Philosophers tell us that the chief end of man is Happiness, and consequently his chief activity is the pursuit of happiness...

... That goes for the child in the crib. He wants to feed and sleep as well, but these are mere bodily function. The main activity of his mind is the pursuit of happiness and the thing that's going to make him happy is just finding out...
...Most people lose this itch to find out as soon as they grow up; some even before. They are willing to believe what they are told- and I will admit it is easier at that; but somehow that does not satisy me. I want to know; and I want to find out for myself- to smack at life to see if it will smack back. If it is bitter of nubbly, I want to know that too...

...All knowledge is man's for the asking, and I want it. I am not content to look at the sky and think-'Those are stars'. I want to know their names, and who put them there and what makes them shine. When a fellow called Einstein hatches a theory of relativity, nine hundred and ninety-nine men will say -"great guy, this Einstein" and sink another stein of beer. The odd one wants to know what it is all about. Guess I am odd....

Bickford ends his essay perfectly, when he quotes Keats

It's like a book, I think, this bloomin' world
Which you can read and care for just so long,
But presently you feel that you will die
Unless you get the page you're readin' done,
An' turn another - likely not so good;
But what you're after is to turn them all.

--------------------
[1] Like getting a job, MarketRx, 27th December 2006, 1615 hours.

2006-12-22T12:30:00.000-06:00

I am supposed to be doing some work for my research meeting with my New guide tomorrow....
but WTH....I am a procastinator!

Last week was my Thatha's(Grand father's) Devasam (Shradd). I had gone home, and was just looking forward to the eating time, and had nothing else to do (as in participate in the ceremony). Nerul's powercut timings exactly matched the shradd timings, leaving me with only a book (Tinkle this time!) and my (more of) my thoughts!

Not surprisingly, my thoughts turned towards my grandfather and a peculiar statement (which later turned out to be true) that amma made, when we could not make it to Chennai (from Kolkata) in time for his funeral. I was in 11th then. She said, its good that you did not see his body before the funeral and the funeral, becuse then that would be the lasting image of thatha whenver you would think of him.

This proved true, as I saw my patti (grandmother), on her deathbed, and sudden thoughts of her of her conjure up those last painful moments of her life most of the time.

But the weird story is my final conversation with thatha, which again is the picture that keeps coming into my mind wheneverI think of him.

The events start during January 1999. Amma was getting operated, and my grand-parents had come to Calcutta to help appa and us out. As it turned out, our ( my sister and me) grand-parents were living with us after quite a long time ( discounting our short trips to madras), and this was the first (and unfortunately) that I have vivid memory of their stay with us in Calcutta.

Those two months that I spent with my grand-parents were magical, and even more so, given the circumstances. I had my board exams coming, my mom was sick, my dad was under tremendous pressure. Frankly, I dont remember talking to appa much during that time. My grand parents, had virtually become like parents then. Right from waking us up in the morning, packing tiffin box to school and listening patiently to our school stories.

The bonding with thatha especially was really great. He would sit and recount tales of his school in kerala, of the mischieves he used to make, his days at Hindu, of covering cricket matches in chepauk, of his days in IIT -office, of my father's childhood etc etc...

Some things that I still remember from that trip are
1. Fight between patti and thatha (!, could never imagine patti getting angry), for the remote. Thatha always would take the TV from 10 to 12 in the morning to watch Lok sabha proceedings. Patti wanted to watch some tamil serial at that time. And, she would never get to watch it. I remember, patti commenting in the afternoon 'Don't know, what he watches, firstly he can't hear properly, and he does not understand hindi'!
2. Appa had asked me to pay the house rent at the bank. And he had asked Thatha to accompany me as I did not know the procedures. The bank was a good 5 Kms away from our home. Thatha insisted on walking. I walked with him to the bank (in the afternoon sun), and was tired. I suggested that we can return by an auto, but he dragged me all the way back by foot. I was exhausted, and he still full of energy, even though, he was touching 80!
3. Previous incidient is indicatve. Thatha loved long walks. And most of the time, he would get something or the other. Mainly it was buiscuits. He would keep it on the table, and pester us to eat it, and would become unhappy, if it were not over by the evening. Also, he would get one new soap for my sister every other day.

By end of March, mom was mom again, shouting and busy, and my grand-parents were leaving for Madras. The taxi was there, and for some reason, appa had decided not to take us to the airport. My sister and me were there to say bye to them. After the customary advice session, Thatha got into the taxi, his eyes moist, and said to me(us), ' Do well, I may never see you again'.

None of us took that statement seriously. Infact, I only remembered it, follwoing the unfortunate series of events. And he said it so softly, that probably, I was the only one to hear it.

It so happened that 1999, was the 80th year for my thatha and 50th year for my thahtha-patti's marriage. A suddent plan was made to celebrate this occasion in October. As luck would have it, our tickets to Madras did not get confirmed. Appa, got hasty flight ticket (and given the charges then, it was impossible for him to afford tickets for all of us), and attended the ceremony.

To make it up to us, he planned a mega-millenium celebrations with all our relatives in Madras, and this time all the tickets were confirmed.

But our plannning and exitement for the trip was suddenly given a shock on 2nd December, when on returning from my tutuion, I saw lots of people sitting in the house, my mother silently sobbing and telling me that Thatha was no more.

His last words still haunt me.

-------------------
Well, thats the story. Presently, my guides and other prof's in the department convinced me that I should do a PhD, and now I am in the middle of apping again!! Placements, after a break start again on 24th. Work for it is piling up. Hope that I get a job this time!

cheeers!
K

eye of the storm

2006-12-07T11:36:00.000-06:00

the ship of my life had been sailing smoothly for the last 5 years....but now, (un)fortunately, in the (begining?)middle of a storm......I will come out better.....

not a happy week for me...7days of placements done...no job yet!
8 interviews, two near misses....
confidence down....

but the will to bounce back is there (lots of points to prove!!!)

bitter experiences makes you better

MY 15 seconds of Fame

2006-11-28T12:18:00.000-06:00

Yipeee!!!!
I came on TV today.....

was interviewed by CNBC for a story that they made on Placements at IIT-Bombay. I put some major fundae :-)

Apart from that....things are pretty normal, boring, nothing out of the ordinary...

last month has really been a drag.....

but next few days seem promising :)

placements starting from friday....got loads of work and an interview with Shell scheduled for Sunday....

hoping for the best!!

bye
K

There are some things...

2006-10-27T08:17:00.000-05:00

There are some things money cannot buy...

Early morning Diwali celebrations and the Ganga Snanam

Afternoon lunch and siesta with family

Speaking in the 'T-language'

Sining out loud in the 'Reverse it all' language

Sitting in the verandah in the evening and building imaginary forts in the air...

Amma crying in desperation to stop us from doing 'tirushamam'(mischief)

Clicking around in wierd poses in the afternoon and just having fun

and for the others...There is MONEY!!

and my new camera as well!

----
Hope you had a fantabulous DIWALI

...I sure had....One week of absoulte Masti.

Though, I had plans of getting some work done before the deadlines start knocking...I ended up not even sitting in front of the computer for a week!!!
'I am Enjoying it'!!!!!!

Any organization in the world, don't just want geeks, they want well rounded geeks!

2006-10-13T14:59:00.000-05:00

There are some dissapointments and some surprises...
I had been to GE-JFWTC in Bangalore, spoke with some scientists there and in some corner of my mind, I had hoped to work for them (or someone like them) in the future.

Cut accross to IIT, I was actually excited about GE-JFWTC, though some of my placement committee team members, do not think of it highly. I was pretty sure, I would make it also. However, todays PPT proved to be a damp affair. They do not want to recruit for that labs that I want to work for.

Later in the evening, it was the turn for GoldmanSachs to present their PPT. Unlike the BTech/DD junta, who survive 4 years in IIT, dreaming to get absorbed in Banks/Finance profiles, I am very skeptical about them. But today, GoldmanSachs blew my mind away. Their job profile on quantitative modeling, was the same profile I was hoping for in GE-JWFTC (but on a different technology platform), and they blew the mind away of anyone atteding the PPT when they announced their package (and trying to prove to us at the same time that the package was low). But nature has its own ironies. I am pretty sure, my 'intellectual' abilities in terms of past performances do not match up to their expectations. Will give it a serious shot though!

All this gets me back to the what I intend to write about. After the PPT, I spent the evening wiht Parijat, a team member from the placement team and the HR lady from GoldmanSachs, Smitha. Chatting about everything other than placements, I was extremely happy when Smitha kept on telling, again and again, how good a college RVCE was, though, she had just recruited for the IT services profile there.

Walking back to the campus, Parijat and I got stuck up in an engaging conversation about talent in the IITs and in general.

I dont know how we came about talking about this, but somehow, the talk drifted to the 'one building colleges' all around the country, especially in Bangalore, Chennai and Andhra-Pradesh.

I have always maintained that talent is not restricted to the 3000 odd students that clear JEE (long posts in the recent pasts!!), but what IITs are able to do excellently is nurture that talent. Probably, this is because they have been around a long time, and the environment for excellence, the drive to outperform the senior batch, keeps making the whole system better and better (MoodI 2006 has to be better than MoodI 2005).

The whole system in IIT (at least here at IIT-Bombay) is just awesome. You can't be here and do nothing. It is just impossible that you are not involved in any extra-curricular activities. For the really real 'geeks', there are immense research opportunities in the institute, and also an IIT-entry card to the best of the best in the world for internships. And, for the others, there are a plethora of opportunities. Almost every freshie works for MoodIndigo and Techfest. These fests, the scale at which they operate, develop personalities. If there are totally around 60-70 top level positions in these two events, huge opportunities are there elesewhere, the E-cell, the hostel level administrative groups, the hostel fests, the department administrative groups. Any student here, would have had an experience in leading people and working with people, and trying out something that he likes, to add to the excellent education the faculty provides. This is what I mean by nurturing talent. The whole year is so jam packed with events, that a wholesome development of the personality is the latent winner for all the students

An average PG in IIT, discounting the rare case, sits in his room and plays computer games. There are complains that the PGs are not encouraged in all these activities, which is; I would call a semi truth. Respect, Encouragement etc is a give and take policy. If you do not approach the UG heads of these events, they do not have any business, begging you to participate in them ( I have a PG friend, who was given the Co-ordinator job in MI, although freshies are only given Organizer (volunteer) jobs. And technically, he was eligible to be the member of the core team this year). The PGs hardly ever participate in anything in the campus, and this reflects in their personalities.

Any organization in the world, don't just want geeks, they want well rounded geeks.

My analysis (IMO), is that, by the time these students come to IIT, the period in life where they can be 'moulded' is over; and in my opinion; this period is your engineering days.

Joining up ends, I know now, why RVCE is a good (great!) instituion. It 'nurtures' talent.

The faculty at RVCE is sad, deplorable, and atleast IMO, for a college that considers itself to be among the top 15-20 in the country, the faculty is horrible. But, the good thing is that they do not stifle the geek. And he finds a way out, summer projects at IISc or some other big research set ups in Bangalore, or for that matter, highly ambitious BTech Projects, which even the faculty does not understand, and the student pulls it off on his own.

And the extra currics scene, is not as well organized or well oiled as in IIT, but is awesome. Every enterprising student, gets an opportunity to lead, work in groups and showcase his talent. And, as I was telling Parijat, if RVCE combined all it 12-13 fests into one huge fest, MoodI can take a beating (at least the sponsorship earned will be equal/more). This wholesome 'nurturing' of talent is also reflected in the students that pass out from RVCE.

If campus recruitments is a metric to judge quality, RVCE is up there with the best. All most all top end technology comapnies in the IT/software field have in their rolls RV graduates; campus presence for other major enterants into India is increasing aswell in RVCE (and thanks to Infosys and CTS, we can boast of 1.1 jobs/student in RVCE!!!!)

Where IIT and RV differ is, the system in place for such activities. RV is totally randomized, and that is probably the reason, RV is unable to attract other major companies to its campus. But, I am sure, given some time, and some really enterprising student (alumni?) to give structure to the host of activities in RVCE, and better brand imaging of the college, can get us right up to the best.

Another loose thread in this post, is the absolute inactivity of the average PG at IIT. Connect this to my hypothesis that these students are not moulded during their engineering days. My personal interaction with many PGs and first hand reports of college practises in Andhra corrborate this hypothesis.

In most of the 'one-building' colleges, the management, inorder to improve the image of the college, stresses on just the results (or as in most Andhra colleges, compel the students to clear GATE and do MTech in IITs). Given that the faculty is not inspiring, everything boils down to 'repititive'-'hard work'. Clearly, no scope is there for personality improvement. Given that most of these colleges are in semi-urban/ rural areas; there is also no effort to improve the personal/soft skills of such students (who are not exposed to such things in school, unlike the city groomed students). Finally, what we have is students who know their curriculum inside out, but otherwise bland- one dimensional output, unlike IIT (and to a large extent) RVCE, which produces multi-dimensional graduates.

This thing shows up clearly in IIT, where I have met PG students with negative confidence ( Highly confident that they will NOT be able to do this), PG students who were toppers in the rote system they were presented in college, failing to grasp simple basics and numerical/problem solving approach taught here in IIT, and mostly PG students, who lack a well rounded personality; who can actually leave a mark in the society.

My arguments above, tend to place all the responsibility on the college ('system'), but on some scale it boils down to the individual also. You learn the most when you dream, and execute your dream. I base this judgement personal experiences as the RVCE Chemical fest co-ordinator, or placement team member at RVCE and to some extent, my job here as M.Tech Placement Nominee. Moreso, atleast you will do good to take up opportunities that are provided to you (case in point: PGs sitting in their room wasting time, where they could have easily worked for MoodI or Techfest)

My batch in RVCE, wanted to change the face of our fest; and we did it; leaving it in a better condition and raising the bar; and we faced problems from the authorities for this, but persisted. This is my interpretation of an individual taking on the responsibility of improving himself, through dedication to some short term goal he has in mind.

As my dear friend Bhatta pointed out, right now, PG education in India is GIGO (Garbage in Garbage out), most of the students who stick around for Masters in India, do not do it out of choice, and given that still, they do not seem to think that their Masters degree is going to be of any particular use to them except probably getting them 'SOME' job.

But, for ANYTHING to CHANGE, CHANGE also has to come from WITHIN

This has been a long drawn out post, but it reflects some of the things that I am really passionate about; and given an opportunity, would like to change ( or perhaps create the opportunity to changee things!)

So long then!
Adios...

A durga puja story

2006-09-29T16:30:00.000-05:00

Prologue:
Our gang was a large one, 4 girls, 7 boys, the eldest just finishing school, while the youngest had just stepped into class one. I was in the fifth standard then, and so were most of us, around 10-11 years old. Being kids, obviously, we did not think that boys and girls are much different apart from the fact that girls can wear shirts and pants but boys cannot keep long hair or wear a skirt. From cricket to lock and key, from football to hide and seek, from kho-kho to WWF simulation fights, we did all together as a group. And perhaps, the most valuable time spent together was around half an hour every evening on a yellow bench, sitting and chatting about all the things important to a 10 year old.

Things, however, were drastically different from our parents viewpoints. Call it generation gap, conditioning of the mind, upholdment of Indian values, whatever, boys and girls were as different as chalk and cheese for them. Yes, they thought the 'modern thought'; did the 'correct things'; but still they could not fathom friendship between 'grown-up' girls and 'grown-up' boys.

Most girls 'grow-up' more quickly than most boys, and our group was not the 'exception' that proves the rule. However, from the 'predujiced' lenses of our parents, it was blasphemy. Quite words with the daughters (who given the changes they were growing through, unquestioningly followed their mothers), a stiff warning to the boys, broke the spine of the gang. The elder boys understood the deal and gave us half cooked stories to our queries like -'You know, she thinks we are all stupid fools since she came first in her class', 'blah-blah'. But then, none of us were convinced.

-----------

So it was, leading to the Durga puja of 1996. The joint games played by the gang had turned into a more 'rough' boys only games, while the girls played whatever it was that they played with dolls and mini kitchen sets.

It was the second Durga puja being celebrated in the apartments, and each of us had our pockets full of excitement, eager to be present everywhere all the time, eager to show off new clothes, roam the neighborhood. Also, for the first time we were given more 'responsibilities' during the pooja. Decorate the pandal, the stage, make announcements, serve the prasad etc. All in all, we were geared up for an exciting 4 days of Durga puja.

Also, by then, if not sworn enimity , there was some spite between the 'boys-group' and the 'girls-group', for the then foggy reasons, whatever that was, to us.

The girls had decided that they will come down to participate in the festivities at 9AM, but we boys, lazy as ever, decided 11 AM, just before the 'pushpanjali', was an earthly time to go down. However, amma, unaware of the separate plans, made us both (my sister and me), go down by 9:30AM. So, there I was, in a awkward position, so to say, but I had been friends, not long ago with these girls, and so thinking quite objectively (and unemotionally), and it being Durga puja, I pulled up a chair and joined the 'girls-circle', and started chatting with them.

Over the years, as we grow up, we develop 'layers' of 'shell' around us, impermeable to certain feelings. Though, they are not unbreakable, they are good defence mechanisms to protect our feelings, emotions etc...
However, to a small 10 year old kid, her greatest strength and her biggest weaknes is her innocence, the shell is yet to be made.

By the evening, I had become quite comfortable with the 'girls-group' again. Probably, realizing that they have not turned into blood-sucking devils, and more so, given everything, we had been good friends just 6 months back, I spent more time seated on 'my' chair in the 'girls-circle', rather than on 'my' chair on the 'boys-circle'. Early into the evening, I refused a trip, gallivanting into the bylanes of the neighborhood, 'pandal' hopping, with the 'boys-group', deciding to spend that time with the girls-group.

All boys gangs make serious rules, especially about prioritizing 'girls' before group events. My punishment, was that 'my' chair from the boys-cirlce will be removed.

New friends or not, I was eager to return to my flock (Also, I was getting a 'trifle' bored with the antakshari). As soon as the boys returnded, I took 'my' chair to join the 'boys-circle', but I was refuese my place. Confused, I stood there for a minute extra, trying to understand the 'joke', when one of the boys quipped -'Hey, you cannot sit here anymore- you are a girl'.

Thus began a particular half hour in my life, forever fresh in my memories.

Shocked, shattered, desperately trying to hold my tears in public, I tugged amma's sari, demanding to go home. As soon as I entered, I started crying uncontrollably. When I finished unfolding the story of my day to amma, she stormed down to confront the 'boys-group', to make them apologise to me.

As the boys came up, my sister also came up, followed by the girls. It was a short time before the mothers of all the kids were also in our drawing room.

I was sitting on the sofa crying. As the boy, who actually made the remark, came up to me to apologise, he also burst into tears, explaining how I had angered everyone else, by spending the whole day with the girls, who had not as much as bothered to tell the boys a 'hi' during the past six months. Girls are never the ones to be left out, especially when it comes to a contest of tears. My sister, always cries whenever I cry, but her tears, bought along tears of the other girls, unknowingly sorry for the past six months. The other boys, being boysm did not cry, but were uncharacteristically quiet,

Among all the innocent tears, all the mothers also realized the folly of essentially separating a bunch of innocent friends. Moist eyed, they knew that they had been prejudiced, parochial, narrow minded, ambigious to the problem, not forthright with their answers.

All's well that ends well. A new set of rules (avoid contact sports), formulated then and there, withour as much as a word being spoken, restored the 'gang' again.

We happily trotted out of the house, myself redeemed again as a member of the male gender, the girls and the boys mingling with eachother again. Yet, we were still unaware of the actual reasons for the drama that unfolded. Ensconsed in our innocence, we returned back to the pandal. But back in the house, elders learnt a lesson from innocent children.

Within no time, in a bigger circle of chairs, another game of antakshari started, only this time, it was boys v/s girls...

----------

Epilogue
'To kill a mocking bird' is my favorite novel, because it beautifully captures the magic of innocence and highlights the heavy price of years of prejudice has to pay.
Today, as I sit watching 'Puja-pandals' on TV, my mind drifts to the gang. People have changed, enimities have been made, but still from among the 11 of us, 5-6 are still as good friends as ever.

The story is only Half true

2006-09-23T14:56:00.000-05:00

Updates: Nothing special happening in my life, nothing to write home about. Have been really busy coordinating the Placement activities in IIT-Bombay. All my interesting stories are from the placement cell, but I do not want to bore myself in the future when I read this blog:-D

There 'WAS' a creative writing competition in the insti today. I was really lazy to miss the deadline, but then the competition's loss is my blog's gain. The topic was what the blog topic reads.

I tried to dabble at some fiction in trying to write something that fits the topic. Everything that is under the heading 'A' is the half truth, things the world views in my hero's life, and all that is under 'B' is the other half, hidden from the world.

If you think the story/situtation/lines are Plaigaraised, then don't call it so, because I have Internalized...

Hope you enjoy it...Criticism invited

A

"Well Mr.Sen, we have a prodigy. There is no other word with which to describe your son", said Mr Agarwal, to Rohit's father. It was the annual Parents-Teachers meeting at DAV school, and as was expected, Rohit had not only topped his class, but exceled in extra curricular activities also, by winning the inter-school singing competition...

B

"Give me two 'English reader for 4th standard' please", asked Mrs Sen to the shop owner at Peoples book store. This has been the way the Sen's have been operating for the past few years. While little Rohit goes to school, Mrs Sen reads her copy of the books, and makes notes and question answers to drill it into Rohit's head when he
comes back from school. The Sen's are paranoid about Rohit topping the class. TV, Cartoons, Games is controlled as strictly as the Chinese control the media. The only allowance, if it can be said so, is the music lessons he is allowed once a week...

A

The whole family went to the airport. It was perhaps the biggest moment for the Sen's. Rohit had been selected from among hundreds of students in India, to attend the young scientist's meeting in Munich. Grinning always, Mr Sen never forgot to
mention that at 14, Rohit was the youngest in the international conference. Rohit was enjoying every moment. He had worked hard, but science and math came naturally to him. When he submitted his model fuel cell for the competition, he started
learning a little german...

B

Mrs Sen was hysterical. Mr Sen had a stern look. Rohit knew the lecture coming. "It's for your own good, son", "Sometime, in the future, when you are a succesful engineer or doctor, you will appreciate our decision"...
But still, he asked his parents, with the hope that if not this year, the next year, he may be allowed to participate in the musical, organized by the renowed dramatics group'-'Faces'. Renu, the 'artistic brain', director of several award winning plays
had spotted Rohit performing in a school play a year ago, and since then has been trying to convince the Sens to allow Rohit to perform with them...

A

"Statistics is my forte", Rohit asserted, as the interviewer nodded appreciatively. He knew, he had the right person, although Rohit had no prior experience. He knew, that Rohit was winner throughout. An academic topper, a leader in college activites, a drive to succeed, young and energetic, Rohit fitted the requirements to the 'T'...

B

He had given up trying to convince his parents. The rebel in him was not rebelious enough. He knew, he owed a lot to his parents who have sacrificed a lot to get him to this postion. Anyways, his plays are not good enough. There are better actors, and I love Statistics...

A

Rohit's growth in the company surprised many pundits. It took him just 10 years to reach the upper management of the company. He immersed himself in work, lived out of his suitcase, globe trotting half the year.
As he exited of the CST airport, he could see two little kids jumping, trying to catch a glimpse of their father coming out of the terminal, happiness and expectation (of lots of gifts) in their eyes. He waved back, a trifle nonchalantly, to his wife, a budding laywer, who had retired really early from her practise to take care of the kids. He knew, the sacrifice she had made, so that he could devote more time for his overseas appointments...

B

As much as he hated it, his work was his only escape. Only escape from everything that seemed to go wrong in his life. Sometimes, he wondered, why was he so gifted in mathematics, why could he not be a duffer, who could just act brilliantly.

Guilt ate him. He knew that he had to appreciate Pooja's efforts at trying to make the marriage work. If only he could love her as much as she loved him. Instead he knew, he was running away from all truth, flying away on overseas assignments, because he could avoid Ashwini, his 'ex', his parents, who could not stop admiring him, Pooja, who kept making him feel guilty.

A silent smile automatically came, as he thought, 'I wanted to act in a play and live life, but now I am acting life and living plays', watching a play in London...

A

Pooja was shattered, and wept bitterly. But she acknowledged that probably 'divorce' was the best thing. Rohit had agreed to a generous alimony and she had the children. Even though, she waived off the thought, she was happy for Rohit. He was going to
marry Ashwini finally. She knew that the marriage was on the rocks, but was happy for Rohit, happy that he will walk into a happier life after the divorce.
'Finally, somethings going my way in life', thought Rohit...

B
'The honeymoon is over, now I wish I had never split' muttered Rohit, after yet another fight with Ashwini. It was hardly three months to their marriage, and they acknowledge the mistake that it was. 'College was so different, if only I knew that you were such a pain to live with', shouted Ashwini back.

As he tried to catch some sleep, his only thought was 'not another divorce', will pooja accept me back or probably I am doomed'

A

'The car inexplicably went out of control' read the report. The post-mortem report showed no drugs, alcohol in Rohit's blood. The Sen's were inconsolable. Pratik and Priya, were shocked, reality had not sunk in. Pooja was repentent, 'I could have done
things differently...'

B

A thousand thoughts floated in Rohit's mind. "My parents, my kids,..., I can still do things differently. Hope is never to be lost", but even as the thoughts floated, Rohits mind was clear, as he pushed the accelerator, took the hands of the wheel and closed his eyes...

What's the RIGHT metric

2006-08-24T15:02:00.000-05:00

Lots of thanks to Vinay for this amazing conversation.

We (Vinay and I) were sitting in the Night canteen, discussing about Campus placements at IIT-Bombay. Of particular interest was the amazingly large number of companies that had agreed to come to IIT-B, but recruit only B.Tech or Dual Degree students and not the M.Tech students. The underlying answer to this mystery was that the B.Tech/DD students have cleared a particularly tough exam called the Joint Enterence Exam, which the M.Tech's had not.

Question> Is the IIT-JEE, the be all and end all of all examinations? Should all that is there to classify a young 17 year old as intelligent and hard-working be judged by the one exam?

Point in case, for this was that IIT'ans on an average recieve 6.5to 7 lac pay packages, while in other engineering colleges (which by the way, is again ranked based on some Common Enterence test), the pay package is 3-3.5 lac. My arguement is that Talent cannot be demarked on the basis of one examination. Vinay, argued, and argued correctly, if I may add, that for companies that look for placements, JEE is a easy metric. They find good people in IIT, they dont have to look elsewhere. The companies that have to look elsewhere, create another hierarchy in the remaining collegest in India. It's easy and cost-effective for them. JEE (and the host of other enternce exame) does the screening for them.

Question>Still is it not cruel? What about students who are good, but are unlucky to miss out on JEE. After all, JEE selects around 5000 students out of 3 lacs, and you can't expect only 5000 to be really talented. ( I expand this question a little bit more: Ranking of other engineering college also takes place based on toppers in some Common enterence test... RVCE was good because rank1-100 selected it, and so on!)

Once this question is identified, all the statistics that I have learned came to me. There is always this blue shaped Gaussian curve, symbolic of so many things in this world. Couple more. Most JEE'ians are in the talented Gaussian curve, while there are non-JEE'ians also on a Not-So-Talented curve. There are the outliers to the curve. We went for a flatter profile for the JEE and a more narrow one for the non-JEE ones.

To some extent, I do justify myself. I have seen, both the IIT students, and the one in RVCE (where I did my UG) and some other 'TOP' bangalore colleges (where I put the students right on the edge of the non-JEE curve) and some more students from other colleges, who fit in the middle of the Not-So-Talented curve. Here, by talent, I not only mean IQ/ intelligence, but also other extra curricular activities, organizational skills, soft skills etc. Based on my (and Vinay's) assesment of JEE like Talented student outside IIT, we pretty much seemed to agree on the profile.

Question> It is the outliers on the Non-JEE ones who seem to lose out. They are Good, but are clubbed in the wrong graph? A talented student, good enough to be an JEE-ian, misses out on the goodies of being a JEE'ian? That particular set of students will feel depraved, feel that they are not getting what they deserve, because they are not in IIT. To refresh, we are talking about the huge array of opportunities that a JEE'ian gets compared to the others. What seems to be the solution??

We got really philosophical at this stage. What has to be agreed is that Life is cruel, everyone tries to optimize, get the maximum without as much as moving a finger. Given this background, the outliers of the Non-JEE have to lose out. Tough luck.

Question> (Here comes the business end of this post! and Coming a little closer to IIT placements)Consider a hypothetical situation, one of the non-JEE outlier's are in IIT-B (i.e. A M.Tech student). A big consulting firm is here to hire. They say we look only at B.Tech/DD students. What can she do (apart from feeling frustrated)?

The option being explored now is requesting the company to open for all M.Tech's. Ideal from a M.Tech student point of view. For the company, 500 more applications to screen. Yes, they may get a good M.Tech student, but then the B.Tech/DD pool is not dry that they need to look elsewhere. So, they say No to M.Techs. Our poor student is still there, feeling frustrated.

Taking a larger picture, there will be lots of such frustrated students (probably a little less than the IIT-PG student).

Question> Is JEE (or CAT) the right Metric to judge? Are these exams still relevant in differentiating the Best from the Rest?

It probably WAS! This craze about JEE, Undergraduate degree from IIT, has caught attention probably from late 80's/early 90's. Till then, we agreed, yes, JEE was a good metric. In the 90's, there came an additional concept of dropping a year, preparing for JEE, there mushroomed coaching classes whic dissected the JEE, stripped it to it's bones. Students were being 'coached' to crack the JEE. From what it set out, how well students have learnt and applied their 11th and 12th standard science, the JEE was made to stand out. Preparation for boards are different, preparation for JEE different.

Now, in the present scenario, JEE is not a good screening agent. It allows some rotten eggs to pass through it, while rejecting some good ones.

The same with CAT.

GATE, now probably, is still pretty good, but it is also on the decline, and in another 5-6 years, we will see commercialization of GATE as well.

All these exams, were created with a purpose, they served the purpose as well, but as with anything in the nature, it has to evolve. It has to capture the times that we are living in. Past does not gel with the present anywhere in this universe.

Presently, awareness, the number of students doing Engineering in India, competition is ever increasing. Considering the sheer numbers, IIT's are too exclusive to capture all the talent in India. The corporate world as well as the academicia, must adapt to a new metric to judge talent in India, rather than the now existing one dimensional hierarchy, IIT-JEE>NIT>Top private colleges (top rankers choice in state level enternce exam)>Middle level colleges>Absolute dregs...

But then as Vinay pointed out, India is now ensconsed in this system. It is too much work, time, money to come up with a comprehensive overhaul to this system.

Till such time, to all outliers in the non-JEE curve, keep trying harder and harder. It is upto you to see opportunities and sieze it. JEE curve students will be luckier, but then if you are as good and doubly hard working, the gap can be reduced!

mixed feelings

2006-07-30T14:58:00.000-05:00

this character is quite regular on my blog... my friend shriram!
so he finally got his call to sail on friday in the most weird circumstances.

Feeling toatlly bored that he was not getting a call for his first sail for a couple of months now, he calls up the company to remind them that he is on their list. the company reprsentative inturn asks him "when are you ready to join". Shriram, in order to impress upon the restlessness with which he is waiting for the call, replies "Anytime you say, infact, i am ready to come tomorrow even". The company representative however, takes the figure of speech quite literally, and calls him to join the next day.

So the poor fellow, packs in a hurry, gets himself a air ticket to mumbai in the last minute, and leaves home without getting enough time to say goodbye to family and friends.

On friday he finds out that he has to fly to Dalian, a port in china to join his ship.

Travelling abroad is quite frightening, even if you are well prepared mentally, have a good idea of the country you will be visiting. I am a case of "nearly there". I was supposed to be on a flight to new york, sometime this time last year, but opted out for a masters at IIT. I sure felt the jitters of planning a trip so far from home, because finally, home is after all home.

Last year, i went to the airport to see of a friend, who was going to washington for his PhD. At the airport, I just glanced at the faces of the people travelling. It was not a tough task to point out the faces that was going out of india for the first time, a delicate mixture of eagerness, excitement, anticipation of the new place, with a fear, sadness of leaving home was clearly visible. But even among the seasoned visitors abroa, according to my face reading abilities, i could sense a little fear and a sense of holding back. Infact, to me the whole atmosphere at the international departures terminal was a mixture of fear and sadness. I did not glimpse a single face that was extremely happy, nor a send off group that was laughing and merrying.

Anyways, coming back to my friend, this was his first trip abroad. After collecting his tickets, we changed whatever money he had to USD and started for the airport. This is where, my trusted bag, that which has travelled with me to home and back weekends,to matheran , to madras and tirupati, to hyderabad and bangalore got lucky and flew to Dalian, China. Shriram in his hurry had forgotten to get a smaller cabin luggage bag to keep important documents and toileteries and a change shirt or two!

The whole day was fun and happy mood for me. But, in the evening on the way back home in the local train, parry called up to give news that shattered all the happy mood that i was in in the evening.

He called up to say that a batchmate of ours from RVCE, a fellow hostellite, AP, passed away in the evening, crushed by a bus as he slipped from his bike.

Initially, as dozens of calls started coming to me, informing me of the news, I hardly could not feel a thing.

A hostel is like a big joint family, close friends are your brothers and sister, and then you have a gang of friends, like your first cousins, and then there are fellow hostelites, people you exchange a pleasant hi-bye with, people you hug in joy when they/ you get good results/goof jobs etc, the equivalent of distant cousins, related yet not close. To me AP was in the last category, and thus a certain ambivalence in my feeligs. A part of me felt sad, but another part wanted to remain happy, wanted my brain to file the whole day of fun that i had!

But later in the night, as i tried to sleep, the whole enormity of the unfortunate incident stuck me. AP, had been a part of my life.

For two weeks, in our second week on engineering, we had to stay in our first year hostels as the second year hostel was still being renovated. AP, was my room mate for those 15-20 days. He was our team captain for our night cricket team in my final year, and we were "FEst-Hos" team-mates in our second year cricket team.
As such short burst of closeness that we spent circulated in my memory, i really started to feel that I am going to miss this person in my life, so what if we had not really spoken since we graduated from college. Tears did not come, but the heart became heavy...

It is at times like this the one comes to question faith, relegion and GOD et al.
He was most certainly like any other 20 yr old, chasing his dreams, first in an engineering college and later in a software firm, living his life, working hard, studying hard, partying hard...there was no reason that he should not live his bright future, have his share of the pie...
in some cases, he was little unlike many of us. His job meant a lot not only for him, but for his family too. The money he sent back home, was used to pay back some loans that his parents had incurred.

And afterall, he was young, with his whole life ahead...

I spent a small time, in the shoes of his mother. What trauma must she be going through...

Why GOD why??????????????

I have a stock dialogue for unfortunate events, "Whatever happens, happens for the good"...and two days ago, all I had was nothing!

my backyard!

2006-07-22T04:18:00.000-05:00

it has been such a long time since i posted!!!
though i was busy for maybe about 1week of the three week hiatus, a certian jinx were in the way of me and a post!!!

whats the jinx?
mumbai rains hates me!!

last year, first day in bombay had to be 26/7, and by the time i returned to my room in the evening, the room was under water...my mattress and suitcases were happily floating in the water.

this year, the first day of the rains, a lightning strikes somewhere in the vicinity of my hostel, and blows up some parts of the computer of some rooms in the hostel, maybe due to excess surge of current. My computer had to be one!

and finally, two weeks ago, i shifted to a newer-better hostel, and whats the problem...rains have seeped into the switch/router (some thing like that) and thus in some rooms internet will not be working. My super new room just happened to be one of them.

When finally, net starts working on my comp, i had to get busy with my M.Tech report submissions, and when i finally finish that, the govt had to ban blogger.

Last few days were not good for me to blog :-(

anyways, right now, i am in no mood to write, will just put up some pictures of vihar lake, right behind IIT, where we had gone for a walk on monday! the pictures are taken from my mobile, hence the not so good quality!

quite unbelievable that such scenic beauty is there inside bombay!!!
and ya!
couple of weeks ago, amma had to go to chennai, and that left me in the home incharge of the kitchen to try and cook!!!!
day 1: i tried to make aloo sabji and bhindi sambhar. the sabji was fine but instead of bhindi sambhar, i ended up with bhindi rasam.
day 2: teamed up with my cousin to make 'Khichidi" and "pakoda". came out pretty well.
day3: teamed up with appa and cousin, to make 'avial'.....was as good as when amma makes it!!
day4: made khichdi again....have perfected the art of making khichdi now. made baingan bhaja to go with it!!!!!!

Dear terrorist

2006-07-12T15:53:00.000-05:00

A mail I recieved today.

Dear Terrorist,

Even if you are not reading this we don't care. Time and again you
tried to disturb us and disrupt our life - killing innocent civilians by
planting
bombs in trains, buses and cars. You have tried hard to bring death and
destruction, cause panic and fear and create communal disharmony but
everytime you were disgustingly unsuccessful. Do you know how we pass
our life in Mumbai? How much it takes for us to earn that single rupee? If
you
wanted to give us a shock then we are sorry to say that you failed
miserably in your ulterior motives. Better look elsewhere, not here.

We are not Hindus and Muslims or Gujrati’s and Marathi’s or Punjabis and
Bengali’s. Nor do we distinguish ourselves as owners or workers, govt.
employees or private employees. WE ARE MUMBAIKERS (Bombay-ites, if you
like). We will not allow you to disrupt our life like this. On the last
few occasions when you struck (including the 7 deadly blasts in a single
day killing over 250 people and injuring 500+ in 1993), we went to work
next day in full strength. This time we cleared everything within a few
hours and were back to normal - the vendors placing their next order,
businessmen finalizing the next deals and the office workers rushing to
catch the
next train. (Yes the same train you targeted)

Fathom this: Within 3 hours of the blasts, long queues of blood
donating volunteers were seen outside various hospital, where most of the
injured were admitted. By 12 midnight, the hospital had to issue a
notification
that blood banks were full and they didn't require any more blood. The
next day, attendance at schools and office was close to 100%, trains & buses
were packed to the brim, the crowds were back.
The city has simply dusted itself off and moved one - perhaps with
greater vigour.

We are Mumbaikers and we live like brothers in times like this. So, do
not dare to threaten us with your crackers. The spirit of Mumbai is very
strong and can not be harmed.

Please forward this to others. U never know, by chance it may come to
hands of a terrorist in Afghanistan, Pakistan or Iraq and he can then read
this message which is specially meant for him!!!

With Love,
From the people of Mumbai (Bombay)

PS: Really busy now. will come up with a post next week probably!!

Andre Agassi

2006-06-26T07:09:00.000-05:00

The man is retiring. I just hope that he wins either the Wimbledon or the US open in style, and exit the courts that he has graced so well, and for so long.

There can be endless debates about who is the better player between Sampras and Agassi. But to me, I would always prefer to be on Agassi's side. For his rebel attitude that caught everyone's imagination in the early nineties, for his sublime tennis in the mid nineties, for his re-invention in the late nineties, and for the extraordinary tennis that he has played in the last three-four years, Agassi has been a player who has always kept me hooked to tennis. Maybe, the extra dimension Agassi got in the game, may be the fact that he used to go to the court and do something previously considered impossible ( base liner winner Wimbledon, his matches against Rafter in Wimbledon, where he was written off before the match, but where he produce scintillating tennis).

Perhaps, the Agassi-Sampras rivalry is the best ever, and may remain unmatched (Ah! who can compete with the magician on court: Fedrer).
As Aggasi said on Sampras's emotionally charged farewell in the US open, "You grow up with a guy, you compete against him for so long, he's such a big part of your career, something that's pretty special, so you do have that sense of personal regret that he's not around any more. You miss having that around." That just sums up the rivalry.

In many ways, Agassi's life is so fit for a movie. It has it all. Again, the rebellious young age, a sad and long drawn affair, that (at least to me, prevented Agassi from winning two-three grand slams) with (the bitch) brooke shields, amazing commitment shown by agassi to come from 141 to rank 6, playing the challenger series and all, reinventing his form in the way, finding a true soul-mate in steffi graf along the road, is just so like a filmi story.

Hoping that the Agassi legend lives on and on. Through his Tennis academy (where I hope he goes as a coach) and through his charity, may his name live on.

And what say, fifeteen years down the line, we might have a player with the tennis genes of two legends taking the courts by strom.

Cannot wait for the farewell show (hopefully one is organized) for Agassi at flushing meadows!!!

Hydrangalore: The best

2006-06-16T13:28:00.000-05:00

Hydrangalore? = Hyderabad + Bangalore
Hyderabad + Bangalore? = Reunion trip to meet friends
The best? = The best trip ever!

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

Chat as much as you want on Yahoo messenger, feel as close as possible with your friends on Skype, talk for hours on the phone without bothering about your phone bill, scrap as much as you want on Orkut,
but NOTHING beats the fun, happiness, contenment of meeting your friends in person!

A trip long planned materialized last weekend, with two days in Hyderabad, for a reunion of the first year gang ( and quite literally, reunion after first year of all four of us!), and then a 10 hour trip to Bangalore on Monday to meet my foreign bound and foreign returned classmates.

For such a wonderful trip, it started on the wrong note, horrible Hutch, refused to activate my roaming for some reason (demanding a security deposit at the last possible moment), and long draawn verbal fight over the phone ended with me getting a semi- roaming activated where I can recieve only incoming calls.

I was more than excited to go to Hyderabad, as it is the first time I was going there and was very very eager to see the city, and complete my list of having seen all the metro's of India!
Reached Hyd at 5 AM in the morning, and then waited for 3 hours for Anshu to reach. Suku and Bhavani were our gracious hosts. But all my plans for site-seeing was flushed down the drain, when lazy suku and anshu decided that the best way to spend the weekend was by eating and lazing around at home.

There was a time, not so much in the past, when this lazing around was the only thing we did. Firstly there was the canteen at college, where all the four of us would, eat and chat incessantly about all the mundane things possible (like assigning each-other characters from Harry potter, friends etc, like discussing who has lived in more number of cities, blah blah), and then in the evenings, after dinner, where we lazily walked to our other 'hangout' - the research and development block of RVCE, for our research into life and subsequent developments as a result of that research!)

Back to Hyderabad, Anshu's treat at a place named 'Our place', turned out a amazing treat, and the heavy feast virtually closed the lids on a afternoon trip to Golconda fort. Hence, the evening emulated our walks. And for the first time ( or maybe the second, but i would prefer to forget the actual first), the whole gang (all four of us) went for a 'walk' (all other possible combinations of going for a walk had been realized).
Nothing special but really special.

Dinner was at 'Bawarchi', and each of us tucked into lots and lots of biriyani.

Sunday was guys day out. Bhavani had to go to meet her cousins. And, not surprisingly, the day was spent typical guys style, beer and F1 and football and Fedrer v/s Nadal.

One year has passed since we passed out. This one year has seen all of us change so much. The phrase 'moving on with life' has accuired so much meaning, when only a year ago, it was just a cliched phrase to be used as a consolation. You know that the past is behind, that you are not living in the shadows of your past, you have patched up the holes in your sweater and feel 'warm ' now, when you are infact,in a position to laugh at a your younger self.

The last hour in Hyderabad, will forever be etched in my memory for precisely the same reason. Engineering days, these issues were matters of life and death, warranting hours and hours of discussion, advice, introspection, 'walks to the R n D', midnight calls, etc etc to be solved/ Understood, but in that final few minutes in hyderabad, those exact, the 'then-life-changing' events in our lifes were dismissed amongst so much laughter, dismissed as jokes from the past, dismissed as our naivety, dismissed so that we start a new chapter to our friendship.

Parting was really hard, especially with Anshu, who will be 'flying' away to the desert lands of Arizona in August.

All I hope is that, opportunites to meet again come again. ( I wanted to write something really senti here.....but am woefuly short of words!)

Moday dawned in Bangalore, and I felt I was back home!
My first stop was my first visit to Forum, where I met a friend from school, Sashi. 10 hours is too short, and I had to push, and hence, spoke for just one hour. Sashi, I just hope that you finally plan a trip to Bombay when Shriram comes here, to complete a 'school-gang' reunion.

Sendhil is flying to Florida.
DJ is going to go to Scotland.
Abijit plans to go to UK.
Avinash is already in Florida for the past year, and had made a quick visit back to motherland.

They were a part of the 'chemical- brothers', college mates, source of 'infinite' masti during engineering, especially the totally outrageous ways we enjoyed the final few days of the eighth semester, last year, a few weeks etched in each of our memories, for the unforgettable fun.
We had lunch at 'Samarkhand', and revived the magic of the last year.

As a surprise gift, I awarded myself, I took time out to meet my grandmother for an hour. Made both of us immensly happy. Poor granny, cannot travel to meet us in Bombay, was virtually crying when she saw me (after again! 1 year). As, usual, granny started of with advice for me. ( This time it was, not quite surprisingly altogether, not about the need to study hard, score good marks and get a good job etc, but about "THINKING" of the future, marriage, family, kids etc, and about planning all these 'events' in life). Somehow, I just love when patti gives me advice ( not so much with parents, I argue then).

12th June 2005, Bangalore City Railway station.
Firstly Avinash and then Parry, went back home as engineers. 'Chemical-brothers' gang was there in the station to see them off. The station witnessed a wild scene then.

Coincidentally ( I should ask Parry to write about imortance of coincidence in life, he can fill pages!), 12th June 2006, I was on my way back to Bangalore, and the remaining brothers of 'Chemical Brothers', those staying in Bangalore recreated the scenes at Bangalore railway station. Dj, Gunjan, Sendhil, RP, Zimba and Anshu were there.

Now, I am back to the monotonous, dry, listless life of Bombay. But, the happiness, contenment and 'life' of my friends in Hyd and Bang has caught on too, and the days here do not seem so long now!

Back in Bombay, I got another gift, quite accidentally, in a freakish way, I was contacted by an old - old, childhood friend. Called her up, and memories flowed.

Sometimes I just wish, that Time, not be so precious, that we get to plan really long holidays.
I just wish that I have Hermoinee's time turner.
I just wish that there is a Galt's gulch, where we take a month long holiday from everything every year.
I just wish that Everyone were here!

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Photos (from top-down):
(L2R) Anshu, Bhavani and Myself at 'Our-Place'
(L2R) Suku, Anshu and Myself at Charminar
Anshu imitating my posture
Lazing around on sunday afternoon at Suku's place (suku's roomie suresh is in there too!)

Bangalore photos will be uploaded shortly. Sendhil is 'BUSY' and will probably send it over this weekend.

Scout!

2006-06-03T15:10:00.000-05:00

1989: Big brother or Big sister
Due to some reasons, which I do not know, a small 3 year old girl was asked to wait, all alone, for 2 hours after school (which was 10 kms away from home), so that she can come with her 5 year old brother in the school bus, when his classes end two hours later. On the first day that this set-up was worked on, I was sitting with my (the then) best friend, Aritra Ghosh, concentrating on Ms Berri's class, when my sister comes and stands next to the enterance of the class, crying. Berri miss, then quietly lets her into the class, and she sits right in between me and aritra, crying stopped, in the security of her elder brother.
Evening. The same day. I am out playing with my friend, my bully, a 5 year old, 100 times stronger than a thin, underweight me. And, as always, Kutush (my bully friend) finds an excuse to beat me up ( probably I got him out in cricket and demanded that it is my chance to bat! I dont know, why he would beat me up in such a case though, because, i would have barely batted an over!!!). My little sister, is there somewhere around, either trying to join us in our game, or playing some little game on her own. But then, she spots Kutush beating me up. She rushes to the spot, jumps up on poor kutush, and starts pulling his hair. He may be a bully, but does not have the heart to beat up a 3 year old girl. So, he pulls out of the fight. And now, I stop crying, in the security of my little sister.

1994: Innovative (stupid?) games
I was 11, my sister nearlynine(!)and all the creative and innovative juices were flowing inside us, minus, the weight of what will the world think, kind of feelings, minus the weight of am I acting stupid, minus the weight of having to act mature just because we were in the teens (which would come in a couple of years!), and all I remember of those glorious days were the games that we invented. There was "Journey to the centre of the earth" were we ran round and round the room and tackled all the obsacles that Jules Verne dreamed of and even more, in the quest to reach the middle of the room. There was Tennis during the grand slam times, when apart from actually playing the game in our tiny little room, we had put two chairs, were we would sip lemon juice made during change-over between games, and even put up imaginary fights with the imaginary chair umpire over imaginary decisions!
But the craziest of all would be the one where I used to piggyback her, and was her piggyback robot who used to take her to school and back. This being the basic skeleton of the game, different versions were made, like the one were the circuits went crazy and the robot kidnaps the hapless girl etc etc. And not to forget, our very own bollywood games, complete with ma ki senti, songs, action etc etc.

1998-:Confidant
A nearlyfifteen me, and a sister who is nearlyteen, tough times in life with exams, peer pressure, a pressure to make a stamp among friends, to stand up and be counted, to be liked, to be loved. My teenage got all this and more, and a little prematurely to my sister. One of the strongest memories of those years, when friendship and closeness blossomed, is of a day, when my sister was listing out the most good looking boys in my class, and she slipped me into fourth place!
Seriously, though, the last 7-8 years, so much has changed in each of our lives, and having a confidant, to whom, you can bare your deepest feelings, thoughts which you find a little embarrasing to state in the public, has made the good times even better and has absorbed the shocks of the bad times!

2006-Growing up?
Growing up, probably would be the exact oppositte of the way, we enjoyed the summmer vaction of may 2006. Our antics would have laid a five year old to shame. But we grow up im moments. We will be 15 years and 234 days, but then at that day, a set of events will make us much more older than that. Precisely, what happend with me and my sister and our cousin, late one night. What started as a "tan-kheecho", fun time, slowly turned into a very deeply philospohically set discussion, where we discussed, commented, shared, and grew mature!

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It is so sad that, when in a few years, life will move at such breakneck speeds. when life as we know today will become a distant memory, "education" has kept my sister 1200 kms away from me, so that we can only meet for 30 small days in a year!
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if you are wondering, why I titled the post Scout, refer to "to kill a mocking bird".

the 'Rock' story!

2006-05-20T04:02:00.000-05:00

Kaushik's 'metaphor'-isms

The road is blocked by a huge rock. I know, I will have to somehow move the rock, if I have to go any further. But the size of the rock boggles me down. I have a mental block that I will not be able to move this rock. So much is the feeling that I will fail to move the rock that I do not even want to try and push it, even once. Right now, I am pretty much happy, listening to voices from the other side and trying to make a picture of the road ahead. But even now, I know, that I can be (and maybe am) misleaded by the voices from yonder. I know that the present impasse cannot stay for long, and that I will have to make a move to know what the future holds for me.

But the trouble is that, I have no will to move the rock. I am afraid of the consequences. I want to stay shieled by the same very rock which I know I have to move. Not that, I did not push it before, but the sneak preview that I got, was horrible enough for me to decide to reamin in the shades of the rock itself. But for how long?

Not that, I do not have inspiration from my own life. A few years ago, when the afformentioned rock seemed to be no road block at all, I was confronted with another 'Rock'. Back then, the circumstances were such that I had to push the rock with all my energy at all times. Push, I did but without any conviction that I will be able to move it. A time had come, when I had resigned from the exercise, having decided that whatever was beyond the rock was well beyond my capabilities as well.

As is said, the best in you comes in times of adversity. With everything seemingly lost (as I had decided that I was not competent enough!), I had to weild the rock one more time, and this time with just one hand. Like a cornered tiger, I was and to everyones surprie, I found that I could move the rock, and move it quite easily. The adverse circumstances helped me eat away the demons in my mind, the rock was there no more, the highway was there, empty, for me to speed on it.

This is the inspiration that I am looking up to in my confrontations with rock mentioned earlier. But then, I hardly find any inspiration, and it seems that I am waiting for another adversity to wake me up, either to move the rock or to let me know that I do not have the strength to move it. Whatever it is, presently, all I can do is wait and watch, for I do not have the strength and conviction to try and move it.

Increase the seats

2006-05-16T22:35:00.000-05:00

Do the ministers work in India or a never-land of their own!
It may seem a good decision after all for everyone in the country, the cabinet deciding to increase the number of seats in the colleges. But, the truth is it the dumbest decision ever.
Sitting in the parliament, it is easy for those fools to tell, give 27% reservation, increase the seats by 10% etc etc, but are they cared about the implementation. That does not concern them, they have got the vote-bank for the next election satisfied. Their work is over.

Having been in IIT-B for the past one year, I can vouch that at the present level, the institute has reached a saturation.
To be competitive as an academic institution world-wide, the research output of the institute has to increase, and for that to happen, the post graduate strength and the research scholar (PhD) strength has to increase. The IITs have nicely leveraged their existing reputation to gain worldwide recognition for their budding research plans also.
What this means is that, the PG admissions in IIT-B has double over the past decade.

With the infrastructure of class-rooms, labs, hostels etc remaining the same, this is a crunch for IIT-B. Already, first year UG and M.Tech students share their room. Two people are stuffed into a room, which will be small, even by single occupancy standards. Faculty-student ratio has increased and the crunch is felt in the class-rooms as well. More than 90 students are there in each class, and it is not a matter of joke to teach 90 people at such hgh standards and make sure that they understand it also.
Add to this, the administrative problems, the problem of getting new faculty, when even the existing faculty need a pay rise. Talk about providing accomodation, world class labs (which at the moment itself is so over used), food etc after increasing the seats.
Right now, a major part of the IIT budget is spared for buying sophisticated equipments, technology and setting up new labs etc. With this decision of the gorvenrment, we will just take a step back and spend the money building hostels and class rooms.

The whole issue in this debate about reservations is the dilution of merit, quality in top institutions. Blindly increasing the seats, directly ensures that quality is diluted.

The reservation gimmick, is a key sytrategy for the gorvernment. They are killing two birds with a single stone. Not only are the vote banks strenghtened, but also, it helps them avoid the tougher (but rather less sensitive and less sensational) issue of strengthenig the school level education in the country. A recent survey in Maharahshtra showed depressing results. 90% of class 2 students in gorvernment schools do not know addition. A similar number of class 4 students do not know proper spellings of easy words. These are the type of students being groomed to enter IIT/IIM after they complete school.
The govt, would have forseen protests from the country regarding this, and now, in an ad-hoc way, as an appeasment to all, they have suggested an increase in seats, which at the present day is not possible at all.

Someone should go remind Arjun Singh that he took oath as a minister, who would work for the development of the country and his portfolio is Human Resource Development

P.S.: This policy reminds me of history classes of the old, where we were taught to condemn a certain administrative policy by the British called Divide and Rule!!!

Left Bengal

2006-05-13T14:00:00.000-05:00

ramble on!!!

been cracking my head for the last few days on what to write.....and i keep coming up with a feeling that this space is meandering to its death.

so i thought i will just keep writing whatever that comes to my mind. But on second thoughts decided not to do so, because right now, all i am thinking is about the monte carlo code that i need to write!!

Infact, the last few days, have been really hooked to my project. Firstly because, i needed to get as much doubts as i could and get them cleared before my guide flies of to the US, but lately, i have got hooked on to it, and am getting newer ideas and stuff, and am literally staying awake the whole time, getting the ideas sorted out in my mind, before i actually sit down and code them. Most of the times, most of the ideas turn out to be of no use, but the mental exercise is pretty interesting, and i am liking most part of it.

My sister is here. Really, both of us have become so naughty now, that my mother is on the edge, saying that she had a much easier time controlling us when we were kids.
Enjoyment for each of us is just disturbing the other, keeping funny nick-names (we have so many that i have forgotten most of the ones made up last week, and of course irritating mom.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My influence

[44.8]

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what else?
Saw the election coverage on TV, and as usual, election time is a full entertainment package, a full blooded masala hindi movie, entertainment guarenteed!

But this was by far the best thing that I saw on NDTV.
They did a biograpy of sorts of Karunanidhi. One particular bit was about how he used cinema to put forth his ideas to the masses, and having scripted the careers of the likes of shivaji ganeshan and MGR. This was shown, with a scene from the movie 'parashakthi' playing on the background. As the voice over finished with lauding KK, the sounds from the movie came into the foreground, with Shivaji aptly saying "Inne lendhu naanu ematrukaran" (From today onwards, even I am a con-man")....
all I can say is Comically APT!!!!

Jayalalitha has publically announced that she will not attend the assembly until and unless, there is an issue of immense importance, as a tit-for-tat for KK, who did not attend even a single day of the last assembly because JJ was the chief minister.
What do I have left to say. Publically shunning the job that she has been told to do? And what do we do for this, make her the chief minister in the next elections

West Bengal may as well change its name to Left Bengal. Nothing seems to be stopping them. And poor Mamta, her pet dialogue on losing, Scientific rigging, is a no issue now. But Budda factor seems to be making waves, and the media is just getting crazy over this right leaning leftist. But I like his style, I am communist but I am not a fool!!!

well, thats all folks........i will try and write some sense next time ( and hope that some of you might still return to read my stuff!)As of now, let me dive back into Monte Carlo and try and control the surface roughness of a silicon chip!!!

randomize

2006-05-05T13:52:00.000-05:00

Just another random memory from the good old school days plucked out of my pensieve!

Well, there are some teachers the whole school loves and there are some who are hated by everyone, right from the tiny tot in LKG to the big bully of the 10th standard. This memory is of one such Mrs P, who had a particularly strong dislike for me.

Before I start narrating the incident, some background knowledge is essential.

P used to teach me history in class 8, and unfortunately, history was slotted for the 5th period almost everyday, right after the lunch break. To add to this misery, was the fact that P's idea of teaching history was to read out whatever was written in the book at 200 Db to the class. The 200 Db was important, because otherwise, it would be impossible for anyone, including P herself to stay awake in the class. Still, she got drowsy, and to be awake, she generally used to pick on her favourites (which unfortunately includes me!) and some of the last benchers (who are every teachers favourite when they want some entertainment). But even, this can get monotonous, and then she just used to call the ayah, who would be busy trying to clean spilt tiffin from the break and start up a chat with her. Unfortunately for us though, even this conversation would be at a high decibel levels, with even higher "Keep Quiets" thrown in between, so that we do not get a condusive atmosphere for chatting.

As for me, and most other boys, class 8 was a landmark year. After years of neglecting girls and stuff, our hormones started to take effect. And like most of the boys in my school, lunch break was often spent sitting in the class and eating tiffin with the girls rather than playing in the ground.

Anyways, I had quite a nice group of friends to sit and chat with in 8th standard, and more often than not (occassionaly, there were inter section cricket and kho-kho matches etc scheduled for the lunch break) spent the lunch break chatting in the class room itself.

So, now finally, the incident...
Class 8B was right next to the staff room. I had got 'Dosa' and 'Molagai podi' for tiffin. As it happens with cold dosa, with molagai podi, fingers get a dark black stain which needs soap to be removed. As expected my fingers had the black stain. But, the discussion going on was pretty interesting and quite hilarious, so I decided to stay on and have a bit more 'fun' before I go to wash my hands. Unfortunately though, 2 things happened. Firstly, I was so engrossed in the chatting that I forgot that lunch break was over, and my fingers still had that stain. Secondly, Mrs P decided to come early to the class. I had my back to the black board, did not know she was in there. At around the same time she entered the class, someone cracked a really amazing joke ( a so called non-veg one! as is the vogue among 8th standard boys) and I laughed out really loud. Others on seeing P, backed out, but I contuinued for a few costly seconds extra till furtive glances and frantic signals from my friends stopped me. But then, the damage was done. I expected her to lash out on me there and then, but surprsingly she was quiet. (Little did i suspect what was to follow!)

The borrrrring class goes on as usual, the only thing being, Mrs P did not get any victims to pick on that day. But, then there I was, ever-ready!

Suddenly in the middle of Sepoy Mutiny or the formation of the congress or something like that, Mrs P just stops, and says "Kaushik".

I stand up, totally amazed, for I was neither "sketching in my note book", "talking to my neighbour" nor "sleeping". Confused and angry, I ask "Yes mam?". She replies "Why were you laughing?". Now, I really think that she has gone crazy. I repeat "Laughing? I was not laughing. Infact, I was not doing anything but read along with you". She replies- "Not now, but at the end of the lunch break". I get the point, and replied that "someone shared some joke". She goes on-"But no-one else laughed. I saw only you laughing and that too laughing out loud HA HA HA". I wanted to say that, if the others had not seen you, then even they would have been laughing HA HA HA, but obviously I could not tell that. I was quiet for a moment, trying to think of a convincing answer.

But unfortunately, my thought process was severed, when she shot back again at me "And look at you. Pen marks on your shirt, hair not cut, and your fingers still having remains of your tiffin...how do you manage to stay like this". This really got me off gaurd and off everything. I was trying to blabber something, and then she shot back again, and now with the most embarassing of comments- "Kaushik, I think you need to meet a Psychiatrist. Tell your parents that I think you need some professional help". By this time, my mind had gone totally numb. I did not know what to say, and moreso, I was thinking, I must have made some really big mistake or something, and just stood quiet.

But, thankfully Mrs P decided that she had enough. Her entertainment package was used completely for the day and started reading out the sepoy mutiny or the formation of the congress or whatever it was she was trying to teach.

As for me, I continued to stand, not knowing, if I was punished to stand, or if I sat down, she would start the whole thig up again. But again, thankfully, she asked me to sit down after a couple of minutes.

This memory has been etched into my mind. For some reason though, I still have trouble laughing out loud, or if I do so, think that I have made a fool of myself, think that probably, I have laughed out loud just for a couple of extra seconds etc etc....

And, I still HATE Mrs P.

UPDATES:
1. Exams got over. Actually, they got over a week back, but I was too busy enjoying to blog.
2. Research has started. Right now, I have 40 technical papers staring down, with all un-understandable words and formulaes and programs, which some-how, I have to understand, and understand all alone, as my guide is flying off to the US for 2 months.
3. Am having (in IIT lingo) "Infinite fun", that is loads of fun, laughing at the great Indian comedians, the politicians, and especially the tamil nadu elections. Each news episode on Sun TV and Jaya TV is a laugh riot.
4. Am a little sad that Pramod Mahajan passed away.
5. Who says, Indian team plays a lot of cricket. When will 18th may come.
6. Two Lives by Vikram Seth is really good. Especially, when he follows the life of his aunt Henny, who lost her mother and sister to the holocaust. Cannot imagine any person to hate another human so bad, and also, that same person, getting so many other people to believe he is right.
7. There is no book like Lord of the Rings. Third revision going on. But, not at the same speed.
8. Saw "Walk the line" again. Just love that movie. Saw "Ice AGe II". you gotta watch it.
9. Said 'Bye-Bye' to Windows. Now, I am another "Linux" user. (though I have serious doubts about Linux's performance on 128MB RAM)
10. Two weeks of bliss, my SUMMER VACATIONS is here!!!!!!!!!!!

how did this get in here?

2006-04-26T11:32:00.000-05:00

Read this on rediff.com

Complainant Sudesh Sharma, a resident of Ujhani village, had purchased two bottles of Pepsi from a retail shop near Kashmere Gate in the Capital in year 2003.

He started suffering from severe dyspepsia and headache, followed by insomnia, after drinking from one of the bottles. His condition worsened over a period of time and he had to seek medical treatment.

Meanwhile, Sharma, on inspecting the bottle from which he had drunk, found dirt and other contaminants inside it.

Even worse, Sharma was shocked to find a condom inside the other Pepsi bottle, which was still sealed

SHOCKING!

Even more shocking was that Pepsi was let off with just Rs 1 lakh as fine.....

It shows total lack of care by the Pepsi for its consumers. For a company which can spend millions in roping in top stars for 30 second adverts, sponsor tournaments etc etc, it is absoultely bewildering that they dont care about the hygene ascpect... firstly there was the story of the lab reports which, has been completely hushed up....i dont think hardly anyone remembers it, and now this. A condom of all things....how insanely crazy it sounds.

At some level, I think that authorities in India are also to blame. I do not think that the Indian counterpart of something like the FDA in the US (wow! i dont even know what it is called!!!) are strong enough, vocal enough to protest against spurious goods, and I am pretty sure, corrupt enough to give the required permissions to products which are below the satisfactory requirements.

Still, surprisingly, I did not see this news on any news channel today.

You can read the full news here

Supernatural?

2006-04-22T11:48:00.000-05:00

Over the past two weeks, I have setteled into a nocturnal time table. I sleep from around 430 in the morning to around 12. After lunch, take a nap and then start studying for the exams from around 6 in the evening. The study session goes on till about 1 in the night, to be follwed by a movie for the night. Having gotten used to this weird time table, I got a jolt when I had to wake up at 8 AM for a 9'o clock exam this morning. Needless to say, I was totally exhausted (with just around 4 hours of proper sleep and an exam) by the time for lunch, and dozed of as soon as I came back to my room after lunch.

This is where the Supernatural happening takes place. Soon after I am deep asleep, I get a dream.

I dream that I am eating in the mess, and suddenly, the most melodious of songs sung in the sweetest of voice flows through the mess over the PA system. I quickly finish lunch and rush towards my room, to see that an old lady is singing accompanied by a beautiful young girl on the veena, right next to my room. I stand mesmerized by their song, which seems to be carnatic music. The song is about 5 minutes long. After the song is over, they get up and leave.

My sleep suddenly breaks at this point. I wake up and still am mesmerized by the song I heard. And at that moment, I frankly thought that the song was the holy grail for melody and that voice was the most beautiful voice ever.

It felt as though, some thought or some soul (proably of that old lady) had drifted into my room, and connected with my brain and played this amazing song to me.

There is no way else, I can explain this dream. It was about two people, I did not recognize, singing a song that I have probably never heard before, and the song itself, is so beautiful that it touched a chord in my heart. But still, tired, I was and I tried getting back to sleep.

Asleep again, I tried really hard to recreate that song. I managed to get the images of the ladies, but that song did not come. Getting irritated, I made those two sing rock, pop, bhangra etc etc, and in a few minutes, woke up disgusted.

I just did not sleep after that.
And whatever, that song that I heard, is still lingering on inside me. Totally unbelievable.

Since, I have already started about songs, I will just post the lyrics of my current favourite song. Its been playing on loop since the past few days on my computer. It is called If you see her, say Hello, sung by Bob Dylan.

If you see her, say hello, she might be in Tangier
She left here last early spring, is livin' there, I hear
Say for me that I'm all right though things get kind of slow
She might think that I've forgotten her, don't tell her it isn't so.

We had a falling-out, like lovers often will
And to think of how she left that night, it still brings me a chill
And though our separation, it pierced me to the heart
She still lives inside of me, we've never been apart.

If you get close to her, kiss her once for me
I always have respected her for busting out and gettin' free
Oh, whatever makes her happy, I won't stand in the way
Though the bitter taste still lingers on from the night I tried to make her stay.

I see a lot of people as I make the rounds
And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town
And I've never gotten used to it, I've just learned to turn it off
Either I'm too sensitive or else I'm gettin' soft.

Sundown, yellow moon, I replay the past
I know every scene by heart, they all went by so fast
If she's passin' back this way, I'm not that hard to find
Tell her she can look me up if she's got the time.

And another couple of lines that I cant just get out of my mind:

My hands are tied
My body bruised, she's got me with
Nothing to win and
Nothing left to lose

from the song With or Without you by U2.

ciao!
got another test tomorrow....the last one which i have to write seriously!!!

Saw this video on google videos recently.....

Aha!!! Two more RVCE bloggers in the net....check out Raut and Samarth!!!

Dink Smallwood

2006-04-18T08:48:00.000-05:00

Magic is in the air!!
Since last week (even though the stupid exams are on!), I just got hooked, once again, to the fantasy world of potter's, frodo's, skywalker's and eragon!!
I went home on friday, and wih nothing better to do, started the 'revision' of Harry potter series. Had to start with the third book because my sister is doing her 'revision' of the first two in chennai!
That reminded me of LOTR, and so saw my favourite part of the flick (battle of helms deep and minas tirith and of course, the valled of the dead!) on my compu!
On Saturday evening, was browsing in the second hand book stall in Nerul, and decided that i will continue with more fantasy and picked up Eragon, the first of the trilogy by young author (he is just 20 now! was 15 when he started the book)Christopher Paolini.

As with all fiction novels, the plot is just same. A young teenager, hardworking but unsuspecting that huge responsibilities await him, a mentor, older than most of the characters in the book, a great magician, a hero of his times, totally hates the villian, a Dark lord, controls (or wants to control) the planet, his followers, well versed in dark magic, a rebel team planning to dislodge the dark lord etc etc.

But the magic of fantasy books is just this. You know the plot, you can guess the ending, but still it will urge you to read on!
Perhaps, it is the magic of being transported to a world where you can do anything is possible..
Perhaps, it is the magic of just knowing that come what may, hope is there, come what may, love, loyality, courage etc etc will come on tops
Perhaps, it is the magic that a young innocent fellow (something that we were a few years ago) plunges into a big-bad world (someplace we are in now), but manages to survive first, make good friends and finally conquer what he can ( something that we want!!)
Perhaps, just because it is just magic!!!

Coming back to the book....
This book is highly inspired by Tolkien, with elves and dwarfs and humans and shady magicians etc etc. It is about a young boy, who is selected to be a dragon rider. He is to start the new generation of dragon riders, as the previous one was overthrown by a evil rider, Galbatorix.
So this young boy Eragon, and his dragon, set out on the adventure, first to kill Ra'zacs who killed Eragons uncle, but the eventual goal being to restart the dragon rider and overthrow the dark overlord. On his way, he befriends a brave warrior ( like aragorn in LOTR, and (being very bold!) snape in the HP series), and a beautiful elf! The highlight of the book, though, is the relationship between eragon and his dragon saphira. You will just fall in love with this Dragon!!

Initially, I was surprised that the book was the work of a teenager. There was quite some amount of philosophy which you associate with books of this kind. But, as I finished the book, I was sure that it is the work of a teenager, the plot was gripping but there were a lot of loop-holes, unexplained events, events totally out of the blue etc....

Hmm....I still have not come to the title of my post. Well, this book reminded me of a game which I was mad about a few years back. The game, as you, might have guessed it by is called dink smaallwood. (download)

This amazing game is about a young boy (again), who goes out of his village, and gets task after task, which he accomplishes, with the final goal being to kill the dark overlord. On his way, he earns money by killing dragons and goblins and giants, meets magicians and learns lots of magic, meets different people and makes friends etc etc. It has minimal graphics, easy controls and interface, and is a delight to play. Not aan easy game, but an enchanting one.

That about summed up my last weekend and even more!
Just gave an exam today.....fared miserably.....
so planning to watch a couple of movies to move out of the miserable feeling....
watched a movie called 'a gentlemant and an officer' yesterday night....was real good
and ya! got to prepare for the exam on sunday :-(

PS: while reading eragon, was wondering how great the movie would be, when would it be made etc. Since fantasy movies are in vogue now, the movie has already been planned..

Summer Vacations

2006-04-07T15:04:00.000-05:00

Exams have not yet begun, but I am already dreaming about 'Summer Vacations'. Though, it is going to be just 9 days of vacations for me this year (rest of the summer has to be spent 'researching'), my mind is already churning out millions of plans for those days. For one, my sister and cousing is going to be here, exactly at the same time, I have the 9 days off, so lots of roaming around is there for sure! plus I am planning to learn palaghat cuisine from my mom in these holidays. Lets see, if it works out.

Since, I have already started on summer vacation, I don't mind another jog down memory lanes, writing about the summer vacations past!

In school, summer vacations meant only one big event: The trip to Madras. Actually, all the excitement started a lot earlier, as early as march, when dad would go and get the tickets for our trip, to madras by coromandel express and from there by mail (was a tradition...never remember travelling the other way round!). My sister and me, would then just wait for the dreaded school days in april to get over. Each night, it would be the same talk, about traveling, about buying stuff for our cousins, about 'what to wear' in the train. We would be so excited, all the discussion at home would be about the trip only. My sister, even composed a song (to be sung daily in the bathroom) about the trip!
For me, my love affair with trains is due to this annual summer vacation in madras. THe most looked forward part of the trip would be the train journey, with all the days before it, spent shouting 'chai-chai' and browsing through the railway time-table.
Madras was awesome fun. Got to meet relatives and cousins, but most of all, got pampered by grand-parents! But both of us would never enjoy madras for more than 4-5 days. We would start pestering mom: "when do we go back to calcutta". But, again, in the train back, both of us used to wish we were on the train travelling in the oppositte direction.

Apart from the trip, summer vacation was a time for hobbies. In the old house (lived at two places in calcutta), it was time for a movie a day. We had got a new VCP, and there was 'HOPE' and 'INDU" rental shops close by. Mom would get one english movie a day, and I am sure we would have exhausted the childrens collection at both the places. Even dad would be more relaxed during the summer vacations, and would end up getting 4/5 tamil movies from 'lake market' to be enjoyed over the week-end. (No wonder, my sis and I are such movie buffs). The first day of summer vacation, both of us used to go to the stationary shop and get the thickest drawing note book available, buy lots of crayons and water colours and decide that the summer would be spent 'drawing'. We used to draw like crazy during the summers. My other hobby, was obviously to 'read'. 'Jaico-Childrens-Classic': that was what I used to read. Maybe a two or three of those books in each vacation and a mandatory revision of 'tom sawyer'!! Summer days were spent lazing around in the back-yard, climbing the only tree there (until it suddenly fell down one day), eating mangoes, cycle races and 'ghar-ghar' with my sister.

At vishal (the other place we lived in), summer vacations just meant play-play and play. The place was filled with kids of my age and thus summer vacations were spent doing the one thing, spending all day in the sun. The bell would ring at 9AM, just as dad would leave for office, "Aunty, Kaushik hai kya", and off we would go to play. Cant even imagine, the number of games, we have invented over those summer vacations. After a brief break for lunch, it was time for 'Scotland yard' and 'The game of LIFE' and 'Monopoly' at my place. Those were really great times, sipping rasna and playing those board games. Evening time, well again, do what, go play and the night was for a movie with dad! Sadly though, the only reading that I did during this time was the sports page of the statesman, read religiously daily. Still had time for drawing though!!

As I grew up, summer became synonomus with just two things. Cricket practise and cycling. There was a time when I harbored the hopes of playing for India and summer gave me the opportunity to spend nearly the whole day at douglas (incidentally, the same place where the great ganguly learnt to play the game) practising with 100 more young boys dreaming of playing for india.

And with my new hero ranger cycle, and a new found freedom given my mom to cycle on the main road!, i had formed a cycling clan. Each day, we would devise a new route to be conquered and go. The boldest of our plans: 'To cycle 38 kilometers to Diamond Harbor' (coming back would make that 76 kilometers). I am myself surprised now, but we went ahead with the plan, but dropped it after 12 kilometers (Still i cant imagine
myself cycling 24 kilometers in a day today!!)

How can I forgrt to mention our 'Adda' gang. Summer evenings spent in the terrace gossipping from movies to cricket to politics to studies to almost anyrhing!

The last evening of the holidays was such a tough time. Time to take out those dreaded uniforms again, 'pack' the school bag again. All this was done with a heavy heart and a feeling of 'Oh my GOD! how can one month be over so soon!!!'. But the next day, in school, you meet friends after a month and all is normal again, except for the 'home-works'!

I 'enjoyed' summer vacations a millennium ago!!!!
well, the last summer vacation in school,that of 2000, was spent going to the tutions morning to evening, and studying till 2 in the night, for the dreaded IIT enterance exam. Yuck!!

In college, sadly may-june was always filled with classes, and labs and exams.

May 9th, cant wait for it. Hopefuly, this will again be a summer vacation which reminds me of those lost vacations!

Ah! a RVCE chemical blogger!!! check Manjunath out

home is where the heart is

2006-03-29T10:46:00.000-06:00

WARNING! This is a very very long post!

First semester at IIT, we had our introduction session. Each one of us had to go up to the stage, state our names, where we are from and our hobbies and ambitions. My batch started giving mundane answers, where only the 'nouns' changed. All this while, waiting for my turn to come, I was thinking of a 'different' and 'refreshing' approach to answer the question.
This is what I came up with:

".....Where am I from? In a sense, you can say I am a true 'Indian'. I have stayed in Delhi, done the whole of my schooling in Calcutta, Engineering in Bangalore, called Chennai home when doing engineering, and am now in Mumbai, and in a month or two, my parents would be shifting here, to make Mumbai, my new 'home'........."

This brings me to the real purpose of this post. For the last couple of days, I have been thinking, which city do I call "home", and the following rambling is the analysis of just that!

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17 years in Kolkata! This alone is reason sufficient for anyone to say that their home is Calcutta!
Childhood memories are the sweetest and all my childhood memories are set in calcutta. Memories like my first school rickshaw, 5/6 of us cramped into a small box, pulled by a never tiring rickshaw-wallah, of the reckless school van driver, of the tram that took me leisurely to school/tutions, of the metro, my best friend in helping me reach school on time (11th and 12th), of playing "gully-cricket" and breaking "kaanch" (window panes), and "Dissaparating" from the scene, of staging dance and plays for durga puja and for the "south india club', of roaming all round the city on "ashtami" nights, of globe and new-empire and priya and menaka, of "third millenium" on park street (my favourite haunt, cal guys, let me know if its still there), of chowmeins and egg rolls, of reading "ASK" secretly, of trying to look smart and 'patao' girls at vibes, cataclysm etc etc...

Obviously, I can't just say Calcutta was about a naughty childhood only! It is the place where I have learnt to become what, I am. I have learnt 'to live' here. My closest friends today are still those who I befriended in my school days. I have learnt my lessons in almost all walks of life here. City of first crush (back then, it was first love), city which has given me the confidence to dream and achieve them (obviously, through the amazing teachers that I have had there), taught me how to be a friend, taught me love, jealousy, hatred, reconcilation, humility, pride.......

But today, If I return to calcutta, I will return a stranger, a strange 'madrasi' who speaks fluent bengali. Everything that was calcutta to me has changed in the last 5 years. My school, has become unrecognizable from the asbestos covered shed it was, my teachers have either left or retired, all my close friends have relocated to other cities in search of greener pastures, newer roads, taller buildings, unfamiliar neighbourhood......

I will go back to calcutta, looking for a familiar past in an unfamiliar future.
Makes me wonder, what do I have in Calcutta, except for my memories to call it 'home'

If Calcutta gave me the preliminary course in life, Bangalore gave me the 'advanced' course, with an additional tricky subject called 'Independence'. Bangalore gave me "hostel life", and I would be lying if I do not acknowledge 01-05 as the best years in my life. The hostel made each one of us 'men' out of 'boys'. This is not just a cliched phrase that I am writing, but a fact!. Trying to manage life on Rs2000/- a month, living alone, washing your clothes, taking care of small sundries, is an essential eduaction. But the real education in Bangalore (apart from my degree that is!), was 'maturity, handling situations, organizing events, handling friendship, relationship, love, heart-break, success, failure is something that I
will never forget. These are some 'instincts' that I will never forget.

No discussion of Bangalore can be complete without mention of the 'fun' and 'friends' that I had and made at bangalore. These friends are a part of me now!
Fun in college varied from year to year. First year was the year of making friends and girl friends, then second year's fun was to celebrate each and everything worth celebratable, in the third year, seriousness was 'fun' with joint study sessions for GRE/CAT/Placements, while the fourth year was spent parked at various pubs and discos and bars rather than our hostel rooms!

Again, as with calcutta, bangalore is slowly becoming a city of memories for me. Atleast, till last year, a few of my closest friends were there, but studies/work is taking them away from Bangalore. Still, presently, I have an urge to settle down at bangalore. You just get addicted to the bangalore weather, and not to mention the vibrant culture of the place, which is special only to bangalore!

'Home' during hostel years was Madras for me. Dad got transferred to madras about the same time i got my admission to RVCE bangalore. Initially, my sister and me were a bit skeptical about leaving calcutta, the only place we had known then, to go to 'ultra conservative' madras, a city where boys of class 8 start preparing for boards, IIT, GRE etc etc, where only 'marks' matters ( got a nasty experience
of this), where the Mamis have an 'eye' out for making unwarranted comments even if a boy says hi to a girl. Anyways, I was happy that I would not have to stay there 24X7
But, If I were racing in bangalore, Madras was my 'pit-stop'. Over the four years, I have started to like madras. Got pretty close with my cousin, especially my cousin sister (who I admire and respect a lot) and relatives, all of whom with, I have had a great time.
Right now, I miss 'Madras'. I miss my lovely relatives, my adorable sister, who is slogging it out at a 'maximum security' girls hostel and a antedilluvian physiotherapy college.

IIT and living in Bombay had always been my dreams. 2005, was two in one: admission to IIT-B. But since then, I feel that, I am in a downward spiral. I am not able to connect with the M.tech junta here, which is making my life lonlier by the day.

Bombay is a beautiful city, sandwiched between hills and the sea, but the people here are so busy that they do not have the time to stand for a second and enjoy the beauty. Life goes here at clockwork precision, and I am not able to adjust to it at all. I am more suited to the 'Babu' lifestyle of calcutta or the 'lazily' busy bangalore way.

But still living in Bombay is an experience which no other city can give and words cant describe!

Dad got transferred to Bombay, september last, and then 'home' and 'ghar ka khana and mahoul'has been my lifeline in lonely bombay.

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I have rambled on and on, but still am unable to figure out, what my 'home' is! My heart skips around all night in my dreams.

Guess this is another lesson that I am learning.

"......Musafir hoon yaaron
ghar hain naa thikaana
chalte jaana hai
bas chalte jaana hai....."

PS:I feel terribly guilty for not being able to update my blog regularly, and more so, of not being to read and comment on my 'blog friends' posts!
It is crunch time here at IIT-the semester end. Profs are realizing that they were too slow the last three months, quiz scheduling is looking like a optimization problem. assignments double, submissions triple....
But this is just a part of my 'bahana'. I still have a lot of time, but that is (mis)used in trying to set a WR for maximum sleeping in crunch week and a new found hobby, writing meaningless scraps on orkut
Hope to be more regular when all this ends, third week of april!!!

All the logos for the city is from a site called googlealive

50 questions tag

2006-03-23T11:48:00.000-06:00

Been tagged by aragorn!
Started- 23:20
1. Were you named after anyone? Yes, some rishi
2. Do you wish on stars? No
3. When did you last cry? 2nd march, 2004
4. Do you like your handwriting? Not really
5. What is your favourite meat? Me a veggie
6. What is your most embarrassing CD on your shelf? I am a mp3 man!!( downloaded for free!!)
7. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you? No
8.Are you a daredevil? Depends
9. How do you release anger? Mostly by taking a walk, occasionaly by shouting at others
10. Where is your second home? Bangalore and Kolkata ( cant decide between the two)
11. Do you trust others easily? Yes and no.
12. What was your favourite toy as a child? My cricket bat ( i have hit hundreds of centuries to bail india out of trouble!!)
13. What class in school/college do you think is totally useless? Personality development in college( though it was not compulsary in my college, some colleges have made it mandatory)
14. Do you use sarcasm a lot? No. Hate it
15. Have you ever been in a mosh pit? No.
16. What do you look for in a guy/girl? Zest for life, passion for atleast "one" thing, humour and integrity
17. Would you bungee jump? Yes
18. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? I am a slipper man! and when i do wear shoes, i dont untie them
19. What's your favourite ice cream? Tooti-frootie
20. What are your favourite colours? Red and black
21. What are your least favourite things? Labs, Shopping
22. How many people do you have a crush on right now? on reese witherspoon
23. Who do you miss most right now? All my friends from RVCE, IIT sucks
24. What are you listening to right now? Simon and Garfunkel: I am a rock
25. If you were a crayon, what colour would you be? Brown
26. What is the weather like right now? Still, hot and humid
27. Last person you talked to on the phone? Karthik N, discussing process control
28. The "first" thing you notice about the opposite sex? Dont know
29. Do you like the person who sent you this? I like his blog.
30. How are you today? Confused, want to know where my life is headed to!
31. Favourite non alcoholic drink? Tea
32. Favourite alcoholic drink? Beer
33. Natural hair colour? Black.
34. Eye colour? Dark brown.
35. Wear contacts? No.
36. Siblings? Yes. One. Younger sister.
37. Favourite month? Winter months and August
38. Favourite food? drumstick sambhar and rasam
39. Favourite day of the year? None.
40. Have you ever been too shy to ask someone out? Yes, always
41. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings.
42. Summer or winter? Winter.
43. Holi or Diwali? Diwali
44. Do you like your name? Yes.
45. What book/magazine are you reading? In the garden secrety and other short stories by Jean arasanayagam
The BFG by Roald Dahl
46. What's on your mouse pad? Some crap on reflexology
47. What did you watch on TV last night? No TV in hostel, saw a bit of 4 weddings and a funeral over the lan
48. Favourite Smell? first rains after the summer, everything from mommys kitchen
49. Have you ever regretted breaking up with someone?never been in a relation to break up!
50. Most tiresome thing you’ve ever experienced/done?The ride back to bangalore from bombay by bus in the middle of HOT may(2005)!

finished: 00:01 (including editing the stuff)

I tag (donno if they will do it or not!)
Sher-e-jalandar
akanksha
yadhvi
masquer
demonic dude

PS: one of my closest friends has started blogging again!!
Welcome aboard once again sashi

being friends...

2006-03-21T08:36:00.000-06:00

update:well, again i have had no new posts for about a week now. This time it was because I was having loads and loads of fun with my undergraduate friends from RVCE, as we had met up for a reunion in aamchi mumbai. We booked a bus and went to alibaug for fun in the sea, went shopping in mumbai, and chatted and chatted all night long at my house. Even though everyone has gone back to their respective work/classes etc, our minds is having a phase lag and is stuck at the awesome weekend that we had!!

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Over the last weekend, I have realized one thing. No matter, how hard you try, you cannot ever construct a wall that cannot be breached, a canyon that cannot be jumped (or even drift galaxies apart)between close friends!( and the vice verca!!). All it takes is just a couple of moments and all is forgiven!

I "got back" couple of my closest friends, bhavani and suku, over the reunion. It had been more than two years that I spoke to them, and all the while, I knew that the new life I was creating for myself, where i kept repeating to myself that I do not need them was just an illusion. But still, many things had been said and done, and I was not ready for picking up the phone and calling them, as it would be very awkward and also very un-natural.

Frankly, I was very skeptical about meeting the two of them before the reunion. Our friendship had gone down the drain, I had avoided them (successfuly, i might add) for two years. It felt to me that it was going to be another very weird "formal" meeting between the three of us. I am pretty sure that they were also thinkig the same way.

But our subconscious had differnet ideas. It seemed like God had played the perfect cards, so that we start talking again and also all the uncomfortable moments of forgiveness/forgiving etc etc are thrown out of the window. Unknowingly, our paths during the two days went in such ways that, now we have realized how much each one of us is worth for eachother. Hopefuly, I do not blow it again!!

The walk to the bank and back with suku (thanks to tension in navi mumbai because of which all the autos were off the road), reminicent of those college days, when we used to walk after dinner, and talk about so many things, will always be very special. And, as I said again, what we talked about was also so much like those good old college days. It felt so great to be talking about such things with him again!

Bhavani has always been a special friend to me, but only I know, how much I have hurt her over the past 4 years, and it so great that she keeps forgiving me again and again. Things got settled, on the evening of the 18th, in the sit-out of my home. We chatted about silly things the same way, we used to do in the canteen in the first year, to break the ice. And over sunday and monday, we even got some time to talk about some delicate issues and settle it there and then!!! It feels great to be back on talking terms with bhavs!!

And hey, Anshu, I am not going to bore you anymore again! I just hope the old days are back again! I know, the catch-22 situation, you have been in, the past two years, and my God, you have done a great job!!

PS: I have read many blogs, where names are subsituted with my friend X and Y etc etc. I purposely avoided that for two reasons. Firstly, all my friends who I know, will immediately know who X and Y are! and for all the people to whom I am an blogger named kaushik, I just feel, that using the names is better!!

Aragorn, I see that you have tagged me (yipeee! i am tagged!!). I will do that tomorrow or the day after.

Guest article + 50th blog

2006-03-15T02:27:00.000-06:00

I am really sorry for not having updated my blog for more than a week now. The reasons is a good mix of really hectic studying for a test on sunday, some laziness, and a small wait. My close friend Shriram, has come down to Mumbai for his visa interview.
He and I have always had a penchant for writing. Infact, our favourite classes in school were the english classes, where we had to write essays, reports etc.
Also this is going to be my 50thpost, so I thought a small wait for letting Shriram write the post would be worth it.

So todays blog, is a GUEST blog, written by Shriram. Hope you all will like it!

Only humans have the tendency of acquiring pleasure at the cost of some one else’s misery. Insatiable.

I used to go to play at a boy’s home in the evenings when I was in the 5th standard. This friend of mine used to be in the 4th at that time.

One such not so fine an evening his mom was chatting with both of us when I had gone down to play at his place, enquiring generally about my studies and other curricular things. Suddenly she asked me a weird question,” Tell me Shriram, do you love your mother more or your father?”
I was taken aback but replied quietly a few seconds later that I couldn’t possibly chose between the two. She said”Come on!! There must be someone you like more than the other.”
I said” I like both equally.”
She wasn’t satisfied and told me pacifying “You don’t have to worry about anything. You can tell me. Who do you like more?”
“My mom”, I said and turned as if indicating that the interview was over and she could leave now.

Incidentally my mom and dad were coming to their place for a casual visit later that evening. After the normal customary servings of coffee, and snacks associated with it, my parents and my friends’ started chatting which I being a kid did not feel compelled to attend and listen. I was playing cricket in the other room and suddenly the ball entered the hall where the adults were sitting.
Aunty remarked to my mom on seeing me” you know Gomathy; your son likes you more than your husband.”
I saw my dad’s face getting small, hurt.

I went back to play and no one said anything to me later, but I stopped going to their house.