Fed vs. Rod

I had decided not to write anything before I perfect Fur Elise (:-)) but the latest developments have been so astounding that I could not restrain myself.

Ha Ha Ha Ha.......................
I could laugh all through the article and be able to convey my deepest emotions over the Semi Final in Australian Open between Federer and Roddick, but I guess it won't be that interesting a read. So I will try to put in words what can only be surmised in skipped heartbeats and astonished gasps.

So much for the gap being closed. So much for the challenge of the young and the roar of the contemprory. So much for Federer being mortal. If you did not see the cold blooded murder which was committed this wednesday, you have missed one of the greatest spectacles which this creatively stunted society has to offer. It was not so much a victory but more of a virtuoso performance wherein Roddick was just reduced to the role of the facilitator of greatness. He was reduced to the status of a mere spectator (albiet with the best seats in the stadium) who watched helplessly as impossible cross-court passes eluded his formidable reach, as screaching forehand winners whizzed past his ears and as perfectly calculated lobs went soaring over his head. I do not blame his frustration. You are not supposed to be humiliated in such a fashion WHEN YOU ARE RANKED 6 IN THE WORLD. You are not supposed to be broken 5 times straight when YOU HAVE THE FASTEST SERVE IN THE WORLD. You are not supposed to be decimated in such a fashion when YOU HAVE BEEN KICKING EVERYONE ELSE'S ASS.

Federer glided on the court with the aplomb of Galina Ulanova (Ballet). He played with the imagination and creativity of Beethoven. He dominated with the ferocity of the Don (Bradman) and took care of affairs with the promptness and expertise of Holmes (Sherlock). It was such a spiritual experience. Just when I think the world has got nothing more to offer than stale celebrity gossip, depressing violent tales, immoral escapades of trechearous politicians or the vulgar materialistic success stories, something this pure comes up and reinstates my belief in basic human creativity.

There is still a final to go and I am sure that if Federer loses, there will be an army of people ready to kick my ass for my unabashed boasting Fedex's godlike stature. But what the hell. The chances of that happening are less than that of my getting "ALL" of this years nobel prizes and the next field medal :).

Fur Elise

Trying to play Fur Elise on the piano (synth to be exact :( )... No time or inclination for a post till then :)... you can listen to this beautiful beethoven piece here:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=LQTTFUtMSvQ

Hopefully, someday I might also put a link as to how I play and not be ashamed :)

His royal 'Dudeness!'

While writing my last post, I happened to write something about 'Dudes!' but felt that I had not really done justice to their potential with the small mention I made. So here it goes. A humble view of a humble person on the infinite greatness of 'Dudes!' and 'Dudeness!'.

First of all, I should set some ground rules. Any mention of this alpha race of humans and its exploits in this post will only be made inside the exclusiveness of apostrophes and will be followed by an exclamation mark, like 'Dudes!'. It is my way of giving them the respect they deserve and serves to linguistically express my awe and admiration everytime I see or talk about one of them.

So how do you know whether someone is a 'Dude!' or not ? They are an elusive breed you see and like to keep to their own generally. One of the distinguishing factors of 'Dudes!' is their I-don't-give-a-damn-about-anything-under-the-sun attitude which is well supported by their unweildy dressing sense, their habit of making smartass comments for untirely obscure reasons, their overall demeanor of having been extremely bored with the world in general and their general lack of basic hygiene. All of this is fine but the most basic trait which raises a mere mortal to the level of 'Dude!' is their uncanny ability of making the wrongest judgements at the wrongest possible time eventhough they had given as much thought to the problem at hand as was humanely possible for them. It is not really their fault. It is nature's way of saying, 'I wish smiles to you all'. They have a greater purpose than we mortals can possibly fathom. The 'Dude!' is working his butt off to bring happiness and joy to the millions who would otherwise have committed suicide in this depressing world. Whenever you read about an overzealous man getting gored by a bull just because he teased that fool a bit or a brave rebel getting rounded up and beaten by the police just because he did not look back to see that all his supporters had vanished or a politician who has made a living out of making smartass comments over Iraq and now brings smiles to the face of millions by constantly fuelling the episodes of 'The daily show' by making an ass of himself, you know that somewhere out there, a 'Dude!' is silently at work. Somewhere behind the scenes, the 'Dude!', relentlessly, is getting the kicking of his life just so that you could have a little colour in life.

The ironical, almost sad part of this amazing story is that the 'Dude!' never wants to land in trouble. He just wants to lead a simple isolated, quiet life. But fate, acting like the unreasonable villain it is, takes the views and actions of the 'Dude!' at their face value. It doesn't understand that the 'Dude!' challenged the herculean bully just because he wanted to impress his girlfriend or that he cried 'Hail Osama' at the airport just for fun or that he genuinly believed that he could jump from the third floor and land precisely on a bike moving at 60.

Since nature plots such vile a plan against the 'Dude!', the 'Dude!' in the greater scheme of things gets reduced merely to the role of the facilitator of giggles. And we should give him credit for this sacrifice. We should understant that even though 'His holy Dude!' doesn't like it, he suffers to bring us joy in myriad ways. So next time when you see a dog running after a guy who happened to bark at it or someone hanging with his nails on a wall who thought that the chair would be able to carry his 400 pounds or a million other such incidents taking place daily, allow yourself a smile for that is all he demands. That is all he is screwing his life for. The 'Dude', in all his holy 'Dudeness' suffers for you and in return, just demands a smirk.

Independence Day

I am not sure if you have seen this movie or not but I sure do remember watching it in Mayfair theatre in Lucknow (it shut down after this movie) on a hot summer day. Boy, was I happy then. English movies were very rare back then and if I remember correctly it was only the second one I had ever seen. It was amazing. All those planes blowing up left right and center. The evil aliens and entirely unnecessary love stories. The heroic President ( India had Devegowda those days) and his heroic commanders. The rest of the world waiting with its bated breath, watching how America saved the world. Boy, wasn't I STUPID.

I happened to catch on with the movie on tbs this evening and I must tell you, I felt proud at how much I have matured since the time I last saw it. You see, it is one of those movies which are so cheesy, so insanely stupid that they have immuned themselves from any prospective 'spoof' attacks. They are infact their own spoofs. Any more attempts at mocking those movies will only end up mocking themselves. Its like trying to spoof Kabhee Khushi Kabhee gham (Its all about loving your family). For crying out loud, even the title is by far the most hilarious combination of english words ever concieved by man. You see the problem ? No one can mock this. The hilarious rapture that a crying Shahrukh khan, Hrithik Roshan, Mr. and Mrs. Bachchan together can provide can hardly be matched by the directorial muscle of anyone less talented than Karan Johar.

Nevertheless, back to the roasting of Independence day, I must say that the movie is essentially a compilation of 3 things:

1. A beaten to death plot of aliens invading Earth for entirely obscure reasons. I never get this point. Like Calvin, I also believe that there is intelligent life in the universe and it is proved by the fact that it has not tried to contact us. What on earth can we offer them anyways ? A social structure based upon differences, tenuously hanging by the threads of compromises? A morally decaying society and an increasingly polluted atmosphere?

2. Regularly interspersed booms and bangs and shrieks and monstrous fireballs and emotional cliches and kisses and love stories and maudlin sentiments.

3. A heavy dose of badass guys with smartass comments. you won't believe how incredible those guys are. They are the DUDES. Their dudeness shines in their slick, in-your-face, trying-to-be-smart-but-managing-to-be-plain-stupid comments. If anyone on United 93 possessed even a fraction of the dudeness these guys ooze on 9/11, he would just have smiled at the terrorists and said 'Do whatever you want, just keep your voice down' and again went off to sleep, before dying ofcourse.

But the best part of the movie is the premise that the aliens which have travelled so many light years just to see some fireworks on Earth get defeated by a simple virus planted by a DUDE. I was wondering, what if the Aliens had Norton. They sure would have laughed their arse off at the stupid humans.

If you have seen the movie, I am terribly sorry at reminding you your horrible past. If not, I guess you get the idea.

Mass Mentality

I recently came across this documentary which depicted how mass consumerism was consciously introduced in the American society. I saw how the American economy was transferred from a need based system to a desire based system. How ownership of cars was projected as a depiction of male sexuality and how female smoking was consciously projected as a voice again male chauvinism. For a second I thought, god, how idiotic, I am sure the public will be able to see through it all. Well, what do you know, American society today is as materialistically crass as the latest charitable publicity stunt of all those hollywood celebrities and the modern Indian society is following like a faithful dog. It was so sad that I could not watch the full documentary. I hardly hate anyone more than those who refuse to think rationally, build a set a beliefs and have an informed opinion. Looking at the present scenario, I am led to believe that 95% of the human population hardly uses its rational powers, which is another way of saying that 95% of the population is foolish. Not inherently foolish. Just affectedly foolish. Foolish because they do not want to take the pains of rational thinking. Rational thinking - something that differentiates us from animals and jellyfishes and trees and furniture. Good job humanity. It seems that we have come a full circle of evolution.

To all those who buy into the above set of value (or the lack thereof), just some advices so that they can start using their brains for things it was originally meant to do :

- If you think that cigarettes or cars or hard drinks or meat filled burgers accenuate your male sexuality and ego, please be aware that you have a miniscule personality to build upon anyways. If I can pass it off without hurting your ego too much (which I hope to do), you lack the strength of character. The rest of it is just smoke filled partyhouse crap.

- If you think that smoking symbolizes a stance against male dominance, you will be surprised to hear that well, it does not. It was a gimmick started 80 years ago so that 50% of the world population can be addicted to it. I respect women's right for equality (my opinion doesn't matter anyways) but please do not play into the hands of the corporations for attaining it. There is no point trying to look like the plastic faced, personality less, dumb headed celebrities which seem to be pottering every nook and corner of every TV channel and magazine and newspaper. The fact that those ladies do not have anything else to gain respect from except their looks and apparel doesn't mean that you also need to give up intellect and grace for gaining it.

- If you think that you child will feel out of place if he does not has the latest technological gadget or bike or fancy dress or for god's sake english language, you probably belong to points 1 or 2 yourself. Now that you have screwed up most of your life anyways, its time to hammer in some brains into that little brat of yours. Why not try building some self respect in him ? You can either do it by patiently talking to him or if he is too spoilt for that, try giving him a regular dose of lets just say, not so friendly pat on the backs (Seriously, I believe in 'Spare the rod........').

- And if you think that those ads which advertise great tasting dog food really have figured out the culinary likes of your pet, you need to go to an asylum. No, on second thoughts, you should be kept in a museum just to depict how close man got to get intellectually confused with a chimpanzee.

Please, please, think. Don't follow what others are doing without giving it a thought. Spare some time and brains on figuring out why you believe in the things you believe in. Otherwise there is not much difference between a human and a lump of rotting garbage. If you give that lump a shape, the ability to walk, and the ability to talk incessantly, I guess you won't be able to make out the difference.

Well, who am I kidding. 95% of the population thinks I am a nutcase :).

Interesting Phrases - 1

Without any undue story-buildup, let me present some interesting phrases which are easily encountered in day-to-day conversation and which make a person, not so gifted in the mental faculties like me, think about their meaning and even relevance to the present situation:

1. "Like whatever dude" : I hereby contest that mankind in all its humble ingenuity has never ever come up with a vaguer concoction of words. To even think that a set of just 3 words could convey so much vagueness is overwhelming. Look at the sentence. 'Whatever' in itself is probably the single most confused and vague word ever invented by man. It points to no one in particular. It references no particular direction of thought. And worse, it simultaneously tries to point to and reference every possible subject under the sun. If I were given the authority of replacing 'whatever' with something else, I would rather have decreed that whenever someone needs to use 'whatever', he would rather just maintain silence for 2.3 seconds (written as "Like -------- dude"). See, it communicates as much meaning with a negligible waste of energy. Nevertheless, then the speaker is trying to equate some situation with 'whatever'. Now, I would not have gone nuts if 'like' was a normal word. 'Like', in modern societies is spoken not as a verb or a preposition but as a conjunction (for eg. 'and') and is just used to join sentences so different from each other that every such usage of 'like' is disturbing the sleep of dead victorians all across the world. Nevertheless, even if we take this usage of like in the prepositional spirit, what is the speaker trying to convey ? I might have asked him, so how was the food ? Pat came the answer, 'Like whatever dude', and I with an obviously stunted social comprehension factor is left in the lurch to ruminate over the multitude of possibilities that the food could have tasted like.

Crap!, I thought academia was difficult and art was difficult and a million other elaborately planned human pastimes were difficult. I never thought that I would be so stumped by just 3 words. To the proponents of modern language, I present to thee, my head on a platter :).

P.S: I thought that I would include a few more phrases but this one turned out to have a lot more potential than I expected. So others will have to wait.

Trend-follower

"LOL :)!!!. I m a gr8 frnd LOL :)!!!. Smart, senzitiv nd kool LOL :)!!!.........."

Minus some exaggeration, this is how the profile of one of my friends went during my Orkut days. The moment I saw this, I thought, well, he goes into the quarantined list from this moment onwards. The problem with this statement is that it is too concealed beneath layers of borrowed style and substance to establish any kind of credibility or individuality for the author. Not to mention that the sentence is full of loads of over-the-top lies. I mean, for a second I thought that I had just witnessed the profile of someone who truly embodied the perfection of the human specie like, God or Chuck Norris or Karan Johar. And even if it was the all too great Karan Johar saying these words, even he, in all his immeasurable idiocy would not have been able to carry the burden of the heavy dose of self-aggrandization which permeates the sentence.

Nevertheless, the fact that I came across some kids in the local grocery store today wearing some kind of in-your-face, extreme T-Shirt made me remember the stereotype which underlines such people. They are the same kind of people who would be forced to listen to Britney Spears or for that matter even rock just because their friends do it, use crazy language to express themselves just because its supposed to be cool, drink at parties not because they like it but because everyone else is doing so and they are being forced etc. They buy into the latest fashion trends and happily pay a fortune big enough to provide for the food of an average family for days just so that they could fit in the upcoming social event. They are the same ones who speak english rather than their native language even if it does not serve any advantage just because its supposed to be such an 'in' thing to do. And they are the same ones who, for lack of an individuality, wear forced mannerisms, phony morals and affected beliefs in social gatherings.

I am not saying that people should not listen to Britney Spears or not drink or not use crazy language. But only if they really find it good or useful or advantageous. If such is the case, all the self-righteous snobbish blabbering about how Beethoven is more desirable than Britney Spears is just a load of nothing. And I am not saying that I am any better, but I am trying hard to improve.

The fact of the matter is that those who would only accept an individual if he conforms to some norms expected by that group do not even deserve the friendship or acquaintance of that individual. True friendship does not have a price tag on it and neither does it have rules and clauses. And it is futile to think that someone can fool the world by not being himself. The truth is only thinly hidden and when it becomes evident, its dirty and disgusting. And moreover, everyone gets just one chance to live. What a way to spend that chance if it is spent pleasing everyone else except oneself ?

Finally, for all those incredible jerks who would rather have you do something forcefully against your own wish, I am sure, their stupidity is not something which a quick jab on the jaws and a roundhouse kick on the backside cannot cure :). Just kidding...

P.S: Have been cribbing a lot these days, isn't it ? Hoping that the next post will be a bit more sane.

Federer plays Cricket

http://in.rediff.com/sports/2006/dec/23roger.htm (Federer plays cricket)

Man!!! If ever there was a news snippet which ruled like crazy, this is it.

Most of my friends, even after being Indians, somehow inexplicably are woefully ignorant of the glory of the best game on the planet. They say that the game is suited only for lazy people like me. Well, now you wouldn't call a tiger lying low, in wait for his prey, lazy, would you ? He is just silently waiting for that one moment of weakness on the part of his prey when he can explode with a debilitating burst of energy. My friends don't see the similarity between the tiger and a cricket fielder which I see. Cautious, silent, shrewdly calculating, ever attentive, he grabs on to the ball with fearsom energy when the situation demands.
Alas, they would rather see the glass half empty :).

Nevertheless, well ? Who has the last laugh now ? I am sure, watching the alpha male of human species himself adorn the beautiful game might have raised some doubts about some of your most fundamental beliefs. If you have finally seen the light at the end of the tunnel and come face to face with one of the axiomatic truths of the world i.e. cricket is probably the greatest atheletic activity ever undertaken by man after maybe Pheidippides' legendary run from Marathon to Athens giving birth to Olympics, then welcome to my side. If you are still unsure (read wrong, I like to be politically correct) and would like to believe that you still need a bit more time to accept what is only inevitable, be my guest. In either case, if I may just remind you of the fact that there are only two absolute truths in the world. The first is that Federer rules and the second is that cricket rules. And no scale has thus far been invented which could measure how much the spectacle of Federer playing cricket RULES. The only thing that could have beaten this scenario on this scale of fantabuluousness was maybe Federer playing cricket with Audrey Hepburn on the runner's end :).

What is all this hoopla for ?

First of all, let me clarify that this post is not the result of the weary imaginations of a disgruntled soul harbouring jealous feelings against IITs and IITians. If it serves to strengthen my point of view by giving it a more impartial tinge and if I may mention it without seeming to be a snobbish brat, I too am an alumni of one of these institutes.

I have been following rediff.com for a long time now but have lately seen an exponential increase in the number of IIT and IITian related articles on the portal. As an example, from december 1 to december 18, there have been 25 different articles on the subject which pegs the daily average of journalists, who would rather concoct a crowd-pleasing, easy to assemble article on a subject as beaten to death as the glowing exploits of IITians than doing some real research on a real topic at a healthy figure of 1.388888889 (and my calculator gave up here).

Agreed that the interest in the subject has been revived due to the scheduled Pan-IIT conference, is it just me or do others also think that all this hoopla is turning out to be another cheap example of climbing onto the bandwagon of mediocre journalism, the likes of which seem to permeate every aspect of today's society. Dear God!, the situation is bad enough with all those sensationalistic news channels bombarding us with a new breaking news every other minute. A society which manages to throw up on an average of 400 breaking news per day must surely be incredibly high on pheromones. But I am aware that this is not the case because I know that I have not seen a few accidents, some bank robberies, a dozen celebrity scandals, 2-3 government upheavels, and atleast 5 terrorist bombings on a daily basis.

Nevertheless, the point of all this rambling is that the renewed interest in IITs just seems to be an extension of the general trait of journalism which encourages reporters to write socially pleasing articles. And I thought, I had heard somewhere that news is supposed to shape social outlook rather than reflect it.

The underlying point of the matter is, 4000 IITians do not represent India. The 10% growth which the Indian economy is so hopefully looking forward to, is not one of the miracles at the hands of the IITians who comprise less than .01% of the national population. Agreed that it might be spearheaded by some of them, but the fuel that has kept burning it for last several years are the 23% of the Indian work force employed in the service industry and the 50% employed in the agriculture industry. So while it sounds nice to occasionally hear how an IITian killed a bear with his naked hands or doused a fire with his spit or ran faster then light (with light travelling in vacuum and the IITian in water), I think we have had enough. I am sure that rediff is catering well to all those parents who have a kid in 12th and would so much want to see him/her enter one of those hallowed portals and all those kids who have the misfortune of having such parents, why not start doing some real reporting for change? You know, something that meaningfully affects atleast 5% of the population and doesn't look down upon 99.99%.

uff...

सहमी सी इक नज़्म के सहमे हुये अल्फ़ाज़
कतरों में सिमटती हुई, मन की इक आवाज़
आँखों में सर्द रोशनी की आख़री किरन
दम तोड़ते हुये दिल की आख़री धड़कन
बस एक इनायत की नज़र कर तो दो सरकार
जीना तो था बेकार यहाँ, मौत तो हो साकार !

ज़ालिम तेरे ज़ुल्मों कि ये अब इंतहा तो है
इन रंजिशी नसों में दर्द ही बहा तो है
बस एक मुलाकात ही को, मैं होता बेकरार
इस आख़री एहसान से भी है तुझे इनकार ?
माना भी चलो तुमको ना था मुझसे कभी प्यार
पर झूठ ही कह दो चलो मरने तो दो इक बार

Addled Ads

There are few things in this world which irk me more than those supposedly made-for-the-masses American advertisements which seem to insult my intelligence by being extraordinarily dumb.

They are not the kind of dumb that you see permeating the portals of the world in the guise of under the age of 15 boys who wholeheartedly believe that all that stupid WWF stuff happens for real, all the while managing to convince their dumb parents that they possess a 'serious' opinion about 'real' things. They are not the kind of dumb that expresses itself so proficiently in those teenage girls who regularily manage to shoot beyond 1000 minutes of talk time every month even though they rarely have anything substantial to say and who cannot complete a single sentence consisting of a total of 11 words without using atleast 8 'like's in it. And they are not the kind of dumb which gets personified in those adult men who think that brawn and brashness are the true denominations of manhood and those adult women for whom incessant, almost maniacal self indulgence is the normal way of life. Sir no sir. These ads are bad. They are so bad, you would want to put your head into the working end of the barrel of a 150 mm heavy artillery gun and hope that the soldier operating it is considerate enough to give you the sweet respite of death. These ads are so cheap and mindless, they make even the worst creations of Ed Wood and Karan Johar seem like Operatic masterpieces. Some examples :

Time Warner Cable : 3 guys. 1 dressed as a telephone, 1 as a laptop, 1 as a TV. Trying to hammer in the point that I could get all the three for one low price if I go for TWC. (Ho Ho Ho. That was subtle. Why not just tie those 3 guys in a red ribbon. Then you would be SURE that us fools would REALLY get the point that the 3 come together. You are giving way too much weightage to our pea sized brains here dudes.)

Verizon Wireless : A family of 4 in a shopping mall deciding how to communicate with each other as each one of them is supposedly going to shop at a different place. After deciding that A calls B, B calls C, C....... they finally realize that none of them has a phone. . . . . . Yes!!! its over. Can you believe that ? Not only does it stand for the sheer stupidity which these ads makers have managed to amass, it also manages to shoot off few more working neurons from my already moronized brain, everytime I watch it.

Casino Pauma : A middle age lady: " I won 10000$ ", A balding man : "I won a hummer", An overecstatic asian : "I won 5000$" followed by the directions to Casino Pauma so that I could at once pick up my cell, my keys and a wad of 100$ notes and straightaway rush to the place. Wow! that was easier than I thought. People around the world spend the better parts of their lives trying to figure out how the hell could they increase the sale of their trashbags by 5%. All they had to do really was to get an entirely unconvincing 50 year old and make him blurt out on TV that he likes the trashbags. And ofcourse, the rest of human population forgot to develop beyond the neanderthals, right?

I have too many examples to list here. Rather than boring you, I would sulk in this misery alone :).

Hell currified

Remember the last time when you were at a friend's place for dinner and were served with so bad a dish that you almost wished to have rather taken birth as the chicken on your plate rather than the one who had to eat that chicken. Think of that dish which made you envy the luck of all those 6 billion living people which were not in that room with you and those 100 million dead ones who never had to come face to face with the cruel reality of how bad things could really get. Now multiply the putridness of that dish by the avogadro's number and you will start to get a rough estimate of how screwed-up we managed to make our last culinary experiment.

Yes, I have to say. The world has finally witnessed the nadir of human creativity. Note this day down in your history books for there shall be a day when you or one of your descendents will be asked in an interview, "So what would you consider the most incredibly stupid act of all of humanity". And if, driven by a lack of knowledge, the answer which is blurted out is one of the following : 'Holocaust', or 'Nuclear bomb on Japan' or 'Friends', or 'Karan Johar and Ekta Kapoor', I am afraid, but it will be met with a cold, incredulous, almost sympathetic stare. You shall be corrected as: 'Why? don't you remember the 13th of November, 2006 A.D. when Ankit and K2 managed to show the world that everytime anyone had ever thought that things could not go any worse, they had underestimated the genius of the two aforementioned people by a factor of 10'.

To cut a long story short, from a perfectly harmless assortment of Onions, tomatoes, chicken and a few other peripherals, we managed to concoct something so grosely disgusting that its occurance probably lies at minus inifnity on a normally distributed probability curve. The only constructive result that we could boast off from the experiment was probably the fact that the world was freed of two burnt cooking utensils.

It was really an eye opener. One of the few occassions wherein you just have to give in to the force of nature and your sheer helplessness against it.

Thus spoke Bill

"You will find your own ethical dilemmas in all parts of your lives, both personal and professional. We all have different desires and needs, but if we don't discover what we want from ourselves and what we stand for, we will live passively and unfulfilled. Sooner or later, we are all asked to compromise ourselves and the things we care about. We define ourselves by our actions. With each decision, we tell ourselves and the world who we are. Think about what you want out of this life, and recognize that there are many kinds of success...

...But having an enviable career is one thing, and being a happy person is another.

Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare achievement. In a culture that relentlessly promotes avarice and excess as the good life, a person happy doing his own work is usually considered an eccentric, if not a subversive. Ambition is only understood if it's to rise to the top of some imaginary ladder of success. Someone who takes an undemanding job because it affords him the time to pursue other interests and activities is considered a flake. A person who abandons a career in order to stay home and raise children is considered not to be living up to his potential-as if a job title and salary are the sole measure of human worth.

You'll be told in a hundred ways, some subtle and some not, to keep climbing, and never be satisfied with where you are, who you are, and what you're doing. There are a million ways to sell yourself out, and I guarantee you'll hear about them.

To invent your own life's meaning is not easy, but it's still allowed, and I think you'll be happier for the trouble."

- Bill Watterson,
excerpts from "SOME THOUGHTS ON THE REAL WORLD BY ONE WHO GLIMPSED IT AND FLED"
May 20, 1990, Kenyon College Commencement

Intellectual Inertia of the Indian Intelligentsia

It is 9:00 in the night and you are going to have a nice little dinner with your family. You sit down in a comfortable chair and press the red button that sends the television blaring its cacophony at 73 decibles of ear-shredding noise. You hope to be entertained but what you find on the screen is one of the now infamous genre of family conspiracy serials, dished out with ample amounts of glitter and phoney morals and sweet yammering, crying bahus and vixenesque saases and mutely submissive, disgustingly foolish males and plots contrived and impossible enough to send those 5 working neurons in your head into a state of shock induced coma. From then onwards, you assume the role of one of those sub-18 year olds during election times. Nobody cares what you think of the serial. Your family is too disgustingly engrossed in the trash to see that one of their close relatives is about to choke on suffocating mediocrity. And you begin to think, what is wrong with Indian television or more importantly with Indian cultural and artistic expression in general ?

The fact of the matter is that television and movies today constitute a herculean chunk of the artistic facade of any society. Their immense reach far outweighs any other vehicle of cultural expression. Therefore, their content can safely be taken to principally represent the creative quotient of the entire society in general. If this is the case, I am afraid to say, but the country has seldom found itself so devoid of originality of ideas, and the will of creation.

Whereas on one hand the small screen is content at providing airtime to the convoluted, disfigured fantasies of the likes of Ekta kapoor, the silver screen meekly bends down to the whims and fancies of cry-baby directors like Karan Johar and Chopra family. Whereas the small screen blatantly copies every american success story (yes, KBC, Indian laughter challenge and all those reality competitions are shameless copies), imagination and creativity seem to be giving way to obscene vulgarity and violence on the big screen. I am not saying that vulgarity and violence should be wholly abhorred. I am just saying that they should not act as veils to hide the sheer ineptitude of directors at using whatever little grey matter they have been blessed with. I fondly remember the days when a Sunday morning on Doordarshan used to be a worthwhile waiting experience. And I miss the brilliance of a Hrishikesh Mukherjee at weaving a complex interplay of human emotions.

I hardly hate anything more than creations which have to take the support of cheap populist gimmicks to get accepted by the society. Art is a sacred profession. It is so much more personal than technology. Its creation should not be governed by something as vulgar as societal acceptance and money. Sadly, this is what seems to be happening to the entertainment industry in India. Movies and serials try to play into the hands of the college going, big city student populace most of whom think that their last breakup was the worst thing to have hit the society in the last 50 years and who are blessed with stupid enough parents with deep enough pockets to have any kind of discriminatory power anyways. Or they go to the other extreme and try to gain the acceptance of those over-the-middle age parents, who somehow have forgotten what good entertainment used to taste like and have now become numb enough not to raise an eyebrow when an Ekta Kapoor sends any army of intermarried, conniving, glossy and fake actors to throw them into what can only be described as a state of mental anesthesia.

Hats off to those who claim to be the spearheads of Indian imagination. I can only imagine, if the bayonet is so blunt, how ineffective the rifle has become.

Hopeless

ज़िंदगी आज नाउम्मीद थोड़ी कम होती
गर तेरी आँखें उस दिन कुछ नम होतीं

ये सोच के कि तू भी कभी याद करती होगी
मैं तो जीने को तय्यार था
लेकिन उस दिन तेरी मुस्कुराहट में
न संवेदना थी न प्यार था
कुछ कहते कहते ही रुक गया मैं
वरना ज़िंदगी मेरी भी खुश सनम होती
गर तेरी आँखें उस दिन कुछ नम होतीं

इस लिये खड़ा रहा कि
मुड़ के देखोगी एक बार
लिये दिल में एक अनसुनी आह
आँखों में धूल का गुबार
सूखे होठों पे सहमी सी चाह में
झलकती मौत की ज़िंदगी कुछ कम होती
गर तेरी आँखें उस दिन कुछ नम होतीं

Some Thought Experiments

Its an utterly beautiful concept. And it provides so much insight into the nature of knowledge.

Suppose you are sitting in a car and the car is accelerating forward. What do you feel ? Well, a push backwards. Suppose the car is accelerating up. Now what do you feel ? A push downward. Now suppose that you cannot look out of the window of the car. Can you tell whether you are accelerating ? Yes, ofcourse by the push. But suppose you are out in the space with no gravity and you are accelerating at precisely 9.8 m/s^2 (the acceleration with which you fall on Earth). Now the big question. Can you differentiate between two possible situations ? Are you in an accelerating spaceship or are you just sitting on the surface of the Earth ? Well, the answer is no ! So how do you really differentiate between gravity and any other acceleration ?

Consider another situation. Suppose you are in a lift in a very tall building and the lift rope snaps. You start falling down. Will you be able to differentiate this situation compared to one where you are out in the gravity free space ? Well the answer is, to a high experimental degree, no. But everything is not lost and it is this small thing which is left, that defines gravity. Consider the lift example again and also consider that as soon as the rope snaps, you let go of two rocks which you were holding in each of your hands. What happens to the rocks as they fall down along with you and the lift. First of all, they will be stationary to your eyes since you are also falling down as fast as them. But wait ! Everything is falling towards a common center i.e. the center of the earth. So the rocks are not exactly following a parallel path but their paths are going to intersect if the lift somehow reaches the center of the Earth. Hence, if you could measure closely enough, you would notice the rocks coming towards each other extremely slowly. And herein lies the clue which gives the secret presence of gravity away ! Its funny in a certain way. To put it down in a fancy way, Gravity does not manifest itself uniquely by the act of the falling down of an object but by the act of apparent mutual attraction between two objects ! Would the situation be any different, if instead of rocks you had used gold blocks or wood or even electrons? Absolutely not. So in essence, everything irrespective of its material will follow the same curved path which is being followed by the rocks. Here is where Einstein took a big leap in imagination. Is the path of the rocks a property of space itself ? Is there no gravity ? Is it just the curved space which decides the path of the rocks and not some mysterious gravitation force ? In essence, is it just GEOMETRY ! And sure it was. The thought experiment which upstaged more than 200 years of the notion of Gravity.

So I am led to ask. All the knowledge is surely out there. Is it just begging a more insightful eye and a more daring imagination ?

A Suspended Animation ?

Now that I think of it, I have spent the last couple of years of my life in a sort of suspended animation, some kind of a make-believe, beautiful, intellectual world.

I have invented excuses for being transported into this other-world. I have more or less shunned the realization that a 'normal' life outside of my ideal world exists.

First it was chess. My obsession with the game although failed to see me grow into a better player, certainly made me scour its history and strategies and tactics and previous matches and players and their playing styles. During the 6 months of my wholehearted devotion towards the game, I read about half a dozen biographies notably those of Kasparov, Morphy (American player in the 1800s and considered to be the best ever), Capablanca (Cuban player famous for his aggresiveness). I read books about the various openings and attack styles employed in the game. I went through and replayed the moves of the famous games of the past. I ventured into an understanding of the way a machine plays the game differently than a human. In short, I must have 'wasted' almost 6 hours from my daily schedule for atleast 6 months straight.

Then it was poetry. As my interest began to grow in this utterly beautiful medium of human expression by my introduction to Ghalib's urdu poetry, I realized the silken genius with which the most eloquent minds spoke. After reading the works of Mir Taqi Mir, Ghalib, Afghani etc. I thought of giving Hindi poetry a try. I instantly became a fan of Harivanshrai Bachchan's prose and poetry and then went on to read many more brilliant writers like Dinkar, Neeraj, Mahadevi Verma, Gulzar etc. I started contributing to the hindi parts of wikipedia and also devoted a blog to writings especially in Hindi and Urdu. This passion has withstood the test of time and I am as engrossed in the field now as I ever was.

My latest craze is Audrey Hepburn, the beautiful actress and humanitarian who died in 1993! Without going into the details, I should just suffice to say that I have done little in the last 1 month apart from researching on her and watching her movies.

Is it wrong ? The way I tend ignore the real world ? I guess, to a rational eye, it is, but the fact remains that the real world is a drab place to live in. It lacks the melancholy beauty of poetry, the intellectual stimulation of chess and the intoxicating allure of those eyes. It does not appeal to the heart and for me, happiness does not lie in it. Nature is beautiful, physics is beautiful, artistic expression is beautiful but the daily chores of life are woefully insipid. They are just an inconvenience I have to live through.

The Ferry Rides

While discussing with a friend today about things unimportant and trivial, we happened to come across some old memories. Old college memories. He, of IIT Bombay with its panthers and crocodiles and snakes and crappy food and dingy hostels and fun life in general. I, of IIT Guwahati with its snakes and crocodiles and crappy food and fun life and those ferry rides across the Brahmaputra.

For the uninitiated, Brahmaputra is one of the most important and mighty rivers of the Indian subcontinent. Originating near Mount Kailash in Northern Himalayas, it traverses the states of Arunachal Pradesh and Assam in North East India before joining the Bay of Bengal. Although to the general public, the river is known more for its depth, its flow, its width etc., for the students of IIT Guwahati first year, the river is known more for the notoriety which it showed when it so mercilessly separated the college from human civilization on the North.

The bus, which plied between our college and the city, although the prudent option, nevertheless, lacked the excitement of a ferry ride across the Brahmaputra. So more often than not, we used to cross the river on a boat. My old memories are especially vivid and dear of those days when the weather used to be overcast. I used to cycle my way from the college to the ferry ghat on the mud path which traversed through a thicket of coconut trees and adjoining straw huts like a snake in a forest. Especially during those rainy days, I relished the touch of the cold moisture laden air, the view of the distant cloud covered mountain tops, the smell of the slightly moistened earth indicating an impending downpour and the sound of chirping birds in the adjoining undergrowth.

The ticket for the ride used to cost about 1.5 rupees (about 3 cents!). The boat had wooden benches to sit and those were covered with a thick tin sheet on the top. I always used to sit on the top where it was open to fresh, cold air and vast, uninterrupted sights. It generally took about 20 minutes for the motorboat to cross the width of Brahmaputra. With the distant sights of shops and houses dotting the North Guwahati shore, the ferry ghat and miles and miles of green forests on the other shore, a faraway, lonely, majestic bridge, an isolated, slightly confused island in the middle of the river, birds trying to compete with the speed of the motorboat just above the water surface, the smell of rain hanging in the air, the taste of wet and dripping, subdued and afraid sunlight, the all pervading noise of complete silence, only broken incidently by the soft touch of cold air on my ears, I could not think of anything non-consequential like the struggles, sorrows and rewards life. I just used to curl up my legs and hold on to my jacket a bit more tightly to counter that ever penetrating cold. But my eyes were always looking into the distance, trying to absorb as much as possible.

A photographer's dilemma

Its not the latest news that the world is a cruel and a partial place to live but nowhere does this cruelity and this partiality manifests itself with more force than in the field of photography.

Consider an amateaur photographer, serenely proud of the latest Nikon digital SLR which shot a thousand dollars out of his bank account, a bit overwhelmed by the monstrous contraption that is his new gadget, but nevertheless, deriving hope from the impeccable scenery in front of him and from the confidence which he gained by reading all those reviews which told him that his newly bought camera takes the most amazingest of all photos.

He looks almost patronisingly at the helpless orange sun, the soon to be captured in a 3/2, infinity of the ocean, and those myriad colours which will soon be mercilessly decomposed into RGB. He cannot help but allow himself that smirk of pity which is the natural outcome on the face of a sadist professor when he recieves the answer sheet of the most hopeless student of the class. Confidently, he aims his camera towards the spectacle in the same way as the first German Panzer would have done against the helpless Polish army and prepares to shoot. And then it hits him. Is the focus right? What should I do with the exposure? The Aperture? The filters? The colour balance?

As he is ruminating over these technical sounding words, mother nature, in one of her infinite wisdoms, decides to give the proud snob a piece of her mind and starts pushing the sun down into the ocean at an ever accelerating pace. The photographer, now nervous, discovers the wisdom in the saying that "something is better than nothing" and arrives at the conclusion that "It is now or never". He selects some settings which he thinks will do justice to both the spectacle and his prodigious talent and clicks.

Back in his home, he shows his day's accomplishment to some of his friend's with the enthusiasm of a 5 year old showing off his new toys. He expects some "Ah so beautiful"s, some "How the hell"s and some jealous shuffles. An uneasy silence ensues. Is it approval? I am sure that they cannot find words to describe the beauty that I managed to capture in these photos. Or is it...? And then someone speaks up. "Its fine.".

Now I do not need to explain that "fine" is the cruelest of all human inventions. It never really intends what it means. You use it when you do not want to be rude. It is, on most occasions, the embodiment of total disapproval, just a nice way of saying "you do not have much future here son!". And our amateaur photographer, howsoever hopeless in photography, understands this innuendo perfectly, if not by his ability at detecting hidden meanings but surely by the utter hopeless despair with which the following words were spoken - "Its fine".

Beauty

And I moved my face closer, the rose petal, shimmering in the redness of health, bent near the edges like a child streching his arms after having woken up from a deep sleep, smelling of diving fragrance, filled most of my view. A lone dew-drop, lying confused on its silky skin, reflected my captivated presence on its silvery, transparent surface. As I moved my head a little sideways, the surface of the drop of liquid shone in the brilliance of a dazzling array of colours as it captured the might and the heat of sun in her humble existence. Queer, isn't it? The fact that something as small and insignificant as a drop of water is sufficient to express the complete beauty of something as harsh as the Sun. You can never realize that beauty by looking directly at it. It does not reflect from the surfaces of rivers and oceans. No amount of power can extract that miniscule colourful beauty from its severe heat and light. And yet. Give it the soft touch of the curves of a dew drop and it melts into a beautiful play of colours. As the wind picked up speed, the rose petal started quivering. The dew drop, now helpless and confused, tried to hold her spot against the inevitable but finally gave up and fell off on the ground below. And all that remained on the surface was a faint and intermittent streak of water.

I waited for some more time and when that streak also vanished into thin air, I decided to move on.