Mind Bloggling.

2006-12-04T22:05:00.000-08:00

About the post below: It has nonsense for an ending. Sorry about that. Will try and improve it some time. i hope the rest of the story is okay.

2006-11-26T01:33:00.000-08:00

It was a cheerful planet. There was enough room for everybody, and there was enough sunshine all over the year. Two sunshines, in fact. The chief inhabitants of the planet were a race not very different from our own, both in terms of appearance and intelligence. They fought, they cried and they laughed. They also lived in houses that, if they were to be on earth, would make a prince jealous. As I said, there was enough room for everybody. And they, like us, were blissfully oblivious to existence of life outside their own. But they had one thing that we humans do not. They had the gift of foresight. Not very clear, but they could see things a little further into the future, and being the skeptics they were, over the years, had learnt to ignore, even ridicule the signs of presentiment, and even made jokes about the idiosyncrasies of The One.
The One was thought to be legend, and had almost passed into myth, when he made a sudden public appearance surprising them all. He was the one in whom the gift of foresight was the strongest, which explained, perhaps, why he was The One to begin with.

------

So it passed that one fine day, The One decided to break his solitary confinement, and address the vast gathering of the people who had, for some reason or the other, decided that this would be important.

He began: “My fellow mortals, we all know the ancient myth of Apocalypse. For those who do not, here it is in brief: It has been foretold, in the days of old, that the world will end when the 50^th son of god is born. And his birth will be at such a time and place as to end the universe. I have not seen anything in the future that could verify this fact, but the time has now come. I feel the truth around me. The 50^th son of god is, even as we speak, in the process of coming into this world. My senses tell me that the birth will occur some time soon; but I believe that the ancient myth is nothing but a myth, created to scare children. I believe that the birth of the son of god is a time for rejoicing, as he is bound to bring prosperity to us all. So stay happy, and look forward to his coming”

-------
Two days passed. It was the middle of the night. The one stood there, knowing this would be it. Today was the day. He could see the signs clearly. He was coming into the world even as he stood there. He gazed into the sky, hoping for a sign. The sky was clear; not a cloud in sight. He could see the stars now. And one by one, the lights went out.

2006-11-25T08:32:00.000-08:00

Why can't there be a switch that can turn your brain off?

2006-10-12T03:22:00.000-07:00

Beautiful, innit?
The trek to kodachadri was a little tiring, sweaty and AMAZING!
We walked around ten kilometres to the the mountain, going through waterfalls and steep climbs. It was Hrishi's idea to get away from the road and follow the stream up the route to reach the waterfall, and it almost backfired when the stream seemed to split into two(or join, depending on where you're looking from). We ended up struggling up and down a hill, loose soil and all. Scratched, bruised and bitten by leeches, we finally arrived at the waterfall and washed ourselves clean. Then on, it was a trek along steep hills and long tracts of grassland. we finally arrived at a place that looked like a route leading us to the place.

2006-10-12T03:13:00.000-07:00

Yes, thats my room. Its not very rare that the sun is at that angle and shining so bright, and it invariably puts me in a melancholic mood. Not that I dont like gloomy weather. I love it. Especially when I play football. A slight drizzle, and a breeze caressing your sweat-ridden jersey. The other room you can see there is Mr. Ajit Sandilya's; he's an institution unto himself. i felt like a barbarian when i stepped into his room the other day. Hmmm... I wonder how long these little pleasures of a carefree life will last. sniff sniff.

2006-09-05T02:06:00.000-07:00

Hmmm.... GRE done. 1540. In a way, the score robs me of the right to crib. At the same time, it leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. Makes you feel like you could have done better. Sometimes I think it would have been better if i had written it earlier. But whatever... i hope i've done enough for some good natured university to think i'm good enough.

2006-09-02T23:25:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is GRE. An expectant atmosphere prevails in the inner recesses of my mind. A vague apprehension, and a vague sense of optimism. I'd cross all my ten digits if i could.

my native place contd..

2006-07-03T10:06:00.000-07:00

Yeah… so where was I? Oh yeah. I’m very fortunate to have spent a lot of time there.

First, the household itself. I learnt something that most urban kids never do. Tolerance for other people and giving people their own space, yet remain as close as possible with people. A joint family can teach a lot of things to a person. But it can also be a royal pain in the butt if you have to live in a joint family all your life. So the two months a year schedule gave me a good taste of what it was and gave ample time for bonding with my family and yet was just right to prevent the bitterness from creeping in.

Then there’s the companionship. I had friends and virtually an infinite playground which, I can bet, no city kid will ever get. You could just lie in the fields looking at the cattle graze or climb a tree to pluck fruits. You could play cricket (yeah, the ground was uneven, but who cared?) or just climb hills for the heck of it. In short, the only thing that stopped you was your imagination. There’s not a thing we did not do. Following rills and rivulets down the mountain; go walking long distances watch village plays and yakshagana; drive the cattle to the nearest watering hole; getting bitten by I don’t know how many leeches (lucky I didn’t get bitten by a snake)…

And more importantly, the weather and the leisure. Millions of tourists pay thousands of dollars to go to places where they can just let their hair down and forget the world for a while. We just had to pay 200 bucks.

People used to look at me and say “enta pyate hudga aakkendu ee namni mann kalite” ( “What is this… being a city kid you go play in the muck like this!”) well… I’m glad I did. Every atom of the dirt I played with is precious to me.

My favourite haunt was (and still is) the lake on the other side of the main road within the forest. It is apparently one of the many sources of a bigger river called Aghanashini which goes on to create many waterfalls that are the trademark of Uttara Kannada. The place has these flat pebbles (yeah, better than the ones they show in the MotoPebl ad) than make excellent skipping stones. I was quite an expert at making stones skip. Haven’t yet lost touch, but well… I haven’t practicedJ) you can sit for hours there and not feel the passage of time.

If you find it weird that I am what I am inspite of all this, well… you don’t know me well enough yet, fella.

My native place

2006-06-28T06:29:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you about this place called Chikkadi I call home... rather, my ancestral home. It sits prettily in the middle of the Western Ghats, somewhere halfway between Kumta and Sirsi off the highway. You take a left, (or a right, depending on which way you're travelling. Irrelevant, because there's hardly any possibility of getting it wrong in the middle of a forest road with a big sign screaming right at you.) and then walk or drive half a km into the forest. The road is muddy, as is expected, and calm. If you're the average urban resident used to the noise of the street, the first thing that you'd notice is the lack of any running motors or honking horns here. The silence is overwhelming, and if it were not for the chirping birds, one would go mad.
Then as you walk the road, you come to the plantation. Betelnut... Adike as they call it in Kannada. A keen observer would also find vanilla and pepper creepers hugging the pillar-like tree trunks.
The road is peppered with valuable trees like rosewood and teak, and honne and matti and nandi.
I asked my dad once if its safe to let them grow that way, without any security. He said it was not obvious, and few people (not even me, till he told me how to recognise it) could tell what tree was what. Another interesting reason he gave was that trees which were not straight had little value, because they were not good furniture material, or ‘Nata’. He said that’s why the trees from deep within the forest were more valuable because they were forced to go straight there due to competition.

Hmmm… back to the topic, as you walk down the path, you see the first signs of civilization. The plantation gives way to fields of paddy and sugarcane, and then a small pond. There is also a spring right on the road, which is seen only in the monsoons. The water table is very high there I suppose. And if it is monsoon, you would also see a number of rivulets running down to join the pond.

Chikkadi is right I the middle of the hills. You stand in the fields and you realize that you’re surrounded by hills on all sides, and the only access to the village is the road that leads into and then away from it. The greenery and the serenity around take your breath away. And then you come to an old traditional Havyaka household, but not before you see a young Sandalwood tree, if you can recognize it.

I’m lucky to have grown up here. For at least two months every year. Away from the stressful city life. I’ll tell you why in the next post.

the beautiful game

2006-06-28T06:02:00.000-07:00

Mood: mellow.
Music: Floyd, wish you were here.

I love football. The sad thing is that many people fake their interest nowadays, now that the WC is here. I read a report in Times that day... I know i shouldnt consider that piece of trash worth anything, but it had this report in which someone said he becomes a football fan every four years. now what kind of a statement is that?! You might think its absurd to attach so much importance to the thing, but well... i felt sad. I've also seen people flashing newly bought jerseys and wearing them like a trophy or something. I have to credit my friend for this, but I agree... I think we're better off wearing jerseys of HAL and ITI rather than wearing some arbit jerseys. i have a couple of jerseys too. but that I bought because I had nothing else to wear when I was in first and second year to play football in. I have never worn the shirts anywhere outside(except when i ran out of clothes, hehe...) for exhibition. and i'm more proud of my NITK college jersey than any other.
I also felt like slapping the officials in this world cup. I think FIFA went crazy or the rest of the world did. The average number of cards per game this time is atleast 5-6 i think. Well... to say the least, thats crazy. The bloodbath in the Italy-USA game and the mayhem in the Portugal-Holland game i think summed up the entire world cup. It also seems like it has lost its sheen. The excitement is no longer there, possibly because we are now used to seeing all the big stars on TV.

stare

2006-05-13T22:41:00.000-07:00

place: Home
doing: nothing.
music: Aqualung, Jethro tull

hmmm... was wondering. ever since i came home, i've ben staring at one screen or the other. i cam home, turned on tv. got bored, took up the phone and started messaging. got bored, turned the comp on and stared at google for a while. went back and turned tv on again.
i got a headache yesterday. no wonder.
why? why this life?

Has anyone read Edgar Allan Poe?

2005-12-26T00:56:00.001-08:00

Well, i have. Atleast tried to. I dont think even a full fledged PhD in literature can ever say he perfectly made sense of all the stories. i just loved some of his stories. I suggest you try these:
1. The Tell Tale heart: not his most famous, but certainly (i think) the best.
2. Murders in the Rue Morgue-- did someone say detective novels?
3. Ms. found in a bottle-- beyond weird
4. The Black Cat-- this one's just too... shit! just read it!
5. The fall of the House of Usher
6. The Pit and the Pendulum-- this is makes you seriously contemplate the sanity of this guy.
It seems he almost starved his wife and mother in law to death once...
He married his thirteen year old cousin!!!
People admire him. Maybe for his outrageously absurd thinking, maybe for his profound understanding of the human psyche. All I can say is, I dont think there'll be another guy like him. Maybe he was a necrophile. His stories are so... what's the word... macabre. Morbid. Some are even grotesque, like [2]. i wont spoil the story by telling you what happens.
Oh, I almost forgot... The Raven- one poem i didnt really understand. Actually i read it in a hurry, and its not something you read in a hurry. I must get back to it.

Peace in the noisiest places...

2005-12-24T09:34:00.000-08:00

i experienced something really interesting today. i went to marine drive with my friends. it was a beautiful evening, and the sun was going down. it wasn't that hot. in fact, it was getting rather cold. it's a great feeling to sit in the sun when the weather is cold. and we walked. all the way to nariman point and back. the place is beautiful in its own way. it wouldnt be the same without the crowd and the dirt. some people would say it's better without the crowd and the dirt, but you feel like a human island among so many people. your thoughts turn inward. and the dirt lets you concentrate on the sea instead. if you're a sea gazer, you'd not notice the dirt anyway. well, the sight of the sea brought a sense of peace to the mind. my friends, being a talkative lot, were worried about my silence. i dont think i'm silent anyway. the air india building and the hilton towers were like they were not there. imposing though they are, you can get lost in the vagueness of the sea. i discovered one thing about myself... i like being vague. especially on matters which demand explanation. probably explains why i like staring into the night sky and the sea so much.

2005-12-22T23:18:00.000-08:00

I went to another lecture yesterday... this was by Dr. Manindra Agrawal, IIT Kanpur. he's a Clay Mathematics medal winner he's very famous for cracking a fast prime no. algorithm. the talk was about Fermat's last theorem and Elliptic curves. awesome talk. the ideas were just amazing. but it was a rather high level talk. I might have understood just 20 % of the talk. i loved the idea he introduced about the addition of points on the elliptic curve. but dont ask me anything as yet... i want to read some more on this stuff. i also want to get my hands on Fermat's Last Theorem by Simon Singh.

Tom, Dick and Harry...

2005-12-21T06:13:00.000-08:00

1
There were beads of perspiration on Tom’s forehead. He never felt more need for an aspirin. It was his first time. He had thought a lot about this. He would become professional. Today, he thought, he would finish it. He would make his bones. He had the money he so desperately wanted. His employers, seemingly, did not have enough money to hire a better one. But the profession is such. He could retire after a few such assignments. It was too late to back out now. He repeated this loudly, as though to settle a fight at the back of his mind. He took his position and waited.

2
The station was not very crowded. The few lingering porters gave him a reproachful glance as Harry came out with hardly bag on him. He was a light traveler. As he came out, he barely noticed the stray drops of a steady drizzle pricking his face. He fished out his cell phone. The display showed 22:00 PM. He tried his home. No one answered. She must be out, he decided. The disappointment showed on his face. He was nearly out of his forties, but had married late. The passion was still there, and it showed in his actions. He looked up. It was barely cloudy. The rain would pass. He decided to walk the distance to the nearest bus stand. The cabs were too expensive. His job as a medical representative did not afford him luxuries like this. It was a long trip, and he felt happy. The next few days would be something to look forward to.

3
Tom began to feel desperate. There was no sign of the guy. Had he misjudged the time? No, he had confirmed it at least twenty times. Did the guy board the train? Yes, of course. Had he taken this route? Yes he had. He had to. There was no other way. That’s why he had chosen this position. It narrowed his options down to one road, one window, and one man. Had he taken a cab? Not likely. He wasn’t the type. Was the train late? Yes… that had to be it. Unusual, for a punctual city like this. he cursed everyone he knew.

4
He had an absent smile on his face as he walked out into the desolate street. The suburbs slept early. There were a few people loitering around the newspaper stand, smoking to keep the chill away. The lights were still flickering as though screaming for attention. He took unusual pleasure in observing the smallest things- the stray mice running down the street. The bickering couple in the apartment, silhouetted against the dim bedroom light. The faint music issuing from the nearby pub.
That was when he heard the faint pop. He lived long enough for his life to flash in front of his eyes.

5
Dick was walking fast. He could not afford to lose more time. There was too much risk involved. He was already late. Rather, his train was late. Few people alighted with him, none of them suspicious. Get this ordeal done with, he thought. His “friend” would be there. Probably frustrated. It was never a good meeting. The deal was too important. The simpler the setting the better. There would not be any bitterness anymore. It would be over. That was when he saw the man collapse. He was walking right ahead. His first reaction was to run to him. his instinct, however, told his to hide. People did not just fall in the middle of the street. When the man did not get up, he ran into the next building, gun in hand. He had to find a shelter, at least for now.

6
Tom had made his bones. Was he elated? No, maybe not. But he was certainly relieved. The half ton weight on his chest was absent. He would just get out of there and never look back. It was hardly a gallop to the station, and he would be gone. The rifle could be disposed later, if at all. He quite liked the thing. Not bad, for a first timer. He began descending the stairs.

7
The newspapers carried the following story the next day:
“In a shocking incident, two bodies, one of a gangster, were found near 10th street, a peaceful suburb next to the railway station. Both victims were in their forties. One of them has been identified as Richard Stratsky, rumored to be a member of the Organizatsiya. The other victim is as yet unidentified. The nature of the killings is mysterious, as the gangster had been shot in the head with a rifle while the other had been shot with a hand gun, presumably from close range. This suggests more than killer, likely many. There has been considerable doubt about the motive, although it is thought to be the result of a recent dispute between the Russian Mafia and the local motorcycle gangs. If true, this is likely o spark off a full fledged gang war between the two gangs.”

8
The door opened. She said "hi honey!' and kissed him. He went in. The door closed. The mailbox had a letter. It was addressed to Henry Stratsky.