Friday, September 26, 2003
Some Books......(for want of a better header)
It has been two months since the semster started and the only thing I can remember doing is that I read novels.....so I am going to just list them down.....why? I just am in no mood to write anything else now.....
In Custody - Anita Ratnam
The Fourth Estate - Jeffrey Archer
Abduction - Robin Cook
Psmith in the City - PG Wodehouse
Psmith Journalist - PG Wodehouse
Leave it to Psmith - PG Wodehouse (Yes, all three straight, in that order!)
Harry Potter and Order of the Pheonix - JK Rowling
Roots - Alex Haley
Flight of the Eagles - Jack Higgins
Shock - Robin Cook
Presently reading: Veteran and Other Stories - Frederick Forsyth
Now that I have written it down, I must say that I didn't even realise that I read 10 novels already this semester...I didn't want to pain you all with more reviews; hence I just listed down the names. I can always send a decent review if anyone's interested (not that many will be!!). I saw Seven yesterday - to balance the effect of Boys. Those who have seen the movie, I don't need to say anything; and those who haven't yet seen it, I strongly recommend it...Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman simply ROCK!!!
Update: In response to the comments I got....I read almost anything if I am totally jobless, though I prefer Ludlum and Forsyth for thrillers and Wodehouse for humour. About me reading so much, well, if one doesn't bother with acads, I guess there's a lot of time to spare. Riddhi, I will be giving a review of what I felt was the best book soon, maybe from home.
In Custody - Anita Ratnam
The Fourth Estate - Jeffrey Archer
Abduction - Robin Cook
Psmith in the City - PG Wodehouse
Psmith Journalist - PG Wodehouse
Leave it to Psmith - PG Wodehouse (Yes, all three straight, in that order!)
Harry Potter and Order of the Pheonix - JK Rowling
Roots - Alex Haley
Flight of the Eagles - Jack Higgins
Shock - Robin Cook
Presently reading: Veteran and Other Stories - Frederick Forsyth
Now that I have written it down, I must say that I didn't even realise that I read 10 novels already this semester...I didn't want to pain you all with more reviews; hence I just listed down the names. I can always send a decent review if anyone's interested (not that many will be!!). I saw Seven yesterday - to balance the effect of Boys. Those who have seen the movie, I don't need to say anything; and those who haven't yet seen it, I strongly recommend it...Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman simply ROCK!!!
Update: In response to the comments I got....I read almost anything if I am totally jobless, though I prefer Ludlum and Forsyth for thrillers and Wodehouse for humour. About me reading so much, well, if one doesn't bother with acads, I guess there's a lot of time to spare. Riddhi, I will be giving a review of what I felt was the best book soon, maybe from home.
Thursday, September 25, 2003
Boys...
Boys is the name of the now not so new Tamil film by Shankar. There has been quite a controversy surrounding the film, as regards the depiction of women as mere props in the movie. The music was by AR Rahman; as usual, it was excellent. Rahman has created a new sound and the album has been very successful. Unfortunately, the same can't be said about the film.
Shankar, who has given some nice films over the past few years seems to have lost it. The usual extravagance was there, alright. But, going with the present trend among Indian film-makers, Shankar too threw feasibilty to the winds and embarked on a project he hoped would be the Tam equivalent of Dil Chahta Hain. He tried all the male bonding stuff that he says is what is common among today's youth - feeling up women wherever a chance arises: buses, shopping malls, beach, you name it. For good measure, he throws in a streaking incident as well as POTA being invoked on the protagonists. Now, what exactly does the director think of us, the audience?
I agree that there are films, more so nowadays, where you have to leave your rationality out before starting to watch the movie, but this is simply outrageous. The music album gives one a kind of idea that this movie is about a teen band trying to make a mark in the music world, and the associated anticipation of great music, tasteful scenes and some coherent storyline. The boy-band emerges sometime after half-time, and the last in the list is conspicuous by absence. Yes, the styilized picturization and all that is there - afterall he spent HUGE amounts of money on the movie. The movie launched five guys and a gal, that's about the only good thing that the film can boast of, apart from the music. The newcomers were good enough and they sure do show promise of doing better things. But, as Katrina Kaif said about Boom, maybe this is not the kind of movie these actors should have started their career with.
Bottomline: The movie is not worth the ticket cost, and definitely not worth launching protests against. Just gives publicity, and as has been often said, 'all publicity is good publicity.'
PS: I know that the post is bad, but I guess that this negative 'creativity' is infectious. Before I forget... all those in Chennai, do not forget to come to our tech-fest, Shaastra Those outside Chennai, also try to make it, 'coz its worth it.
PPS: Just wondering: If what I just wrote out was a 'post', shouldn't the body of the post be called the 'post-script'? Gawd...what am I saying...............
Shankar, who has given some nice films over the past few years seems to have lost it. The usual extravagance was there, alright. But, going with the present trend among Indian film-makers, Shankar too threw feasibilty to the winds and embarked on a project he hoped would be the Tam equivalent of Dil Chahta Hain. He tried all the male bonding stuff that he says is what is common among today's youth - feeling up women wherever a chance arises: buses, shopping malls, beach, you name it. For good measure, he throws in a streaking incident as well as POTA being invoked on the protagonists. Now, what exactly does the director think of us, the audience?
I agree that there are films, more so nowadays, where you have to leave your rationality out before starting to watch the movie, but this is simply outrageous. The music album gives one a kind of idea that this movie is about a teen band trying to make a mark in the music world, and the associated anticipation of great music, tasteful scenes and some coherent storyline. The boy-band emerges sometime after half-time, and the last in the list is conspicuous by absence. Yes, the styilized picturization and all that is there - afterall he spent HUGE amounts of money on the movie. The movie launched five guys and a gal, that's about the only good thing that the film can boast of, apart from the music. The newcomers were good enough and they sure do show promise of doing better things. But, as Katrina Kaif said about Boom, maybe this is not the kind of movie these actors should have started their career with.
Bottomline: The movie is not worth the ticket cost, and definitely not worth launching protests against. Just gives publicity, and as has been often said, 'all publicity is good publicity.'
PS: I know that the post is bad, but I guess that this negative 'creativity' is infectious. Before I forget... all those in Chennai, do not forget to come to our tech-fest, Shaastra Those outside Chennai, also try to make it, 'coz its worth it.
PPS: Just wondering: If what I just wrote out was a 'post', shouldn't the body of the post be called the 'post-script'? Gawd...what am I saying...............
Monday, September 22, 2003
The X = X+1 story...
Here is an article written by RK Narayanan in the '80s. A friend sent me this stating that this could possibly be our life story finally. Hope to God it isn't....though I guess some of you could relate to it more than others......anyways..here goes........
The X = X + 1 Syndrome
When an Indian professional becomes a 'Non-Resident Indian' in the United States, he soon starts suffering from a strange disease. The symptoms are a mixture of restlessness, anxiety, hope and nostalgia. The virus is a deep inner need to get back home. The medical world has not coined a word for this malady. Strange as it is, it could go by a stranger name, the "X + 1" syndrome.
To understand this disease better, consider the background. Typically middle-class, the would be migrant's sole ambition through school is to secure admission into one of those heavily government subsidised institutions - the IITs. With the full backing of a doting family and a good deal of effort, he acheives his goal. Looking for fresh worlds to conquer, his sights rest on the new world. Like lemmings to the sea, hordes of IIT graduates descend on the four US consulates to seek the holiest of holy grails - the F-1 (student) stamp on the passport.
After crossing the visa hurdle and tearful farewell, our hero departs for the Mecca of higher learning, promising himself and his family that he will return some day - soon! The family proudly informs their relatives of each milestone - his G.P.A., his first car (twenty years old), his trip to Niagara Falls (photographs), his first winter (parkas, gloves). The two years roll by and he graduates at the top of his class. Now begins the 'great hunt' for a company that will not only give him a job but also sponsor him for that 3" X 3" grey plastic, otherwise known as the Green Card. A US company sensing a good bargain offers him a job. Naturally, with all the excitement of seeing his first pay check in four digit dollars, thoughts of returning to India are far away. His immediate objective of getting the Green Card is reached within a year.
Meanwhile, his family back home worry about the strange American influences (and more particularly, AIDS). Through contacts they line up a list of eligble girls from eligible families and wait for the great one's first trip home. Return he does, at the first available oppurtunity, with gifts for the family and mouth-watering tales of prosperity beyond imagination. After interviewing the girls, he picks the most likely (lucky) one to be Americanised. Since the major reason for the alliance is his long-term stay abroad, the question of his immediate return does not arise. Any doubts are set aside by the 'backwardnes' of working life, long train travel, lack of phones, inadequate oppurtunities for someone with hi-tech qualifications, and so on. The newly-weds return to America with the groom having to explain the system of arranged marriages to the Americans. Most of them regard it as barbaric and on the same lines as communism. The tongue-tied bride is cajoled into explaining the bindi and saree. Looking for something homely, the couple plunges into the frenetic expatriate week-end social scene comprising dinners, videos of Hindi/regional films, shopping at Indian stores, and bhajans.
Initially, the wife misses the warmth of her family, but the presence of washing machines, vacuum cleaners, daytime soap operas and the absence of a domineering mother-in-law helps. Bits of news filtering through from India, mostly from returning Indians, is eagerly lapped up. In discussions with friends, the topic of returning to India arises frequently but is brushed aside by the lord and master who is now rising in the corporate world and has fast moved into a two garage home - thus fulfilling the Great American Dream. The impending arrival of the first born fulfills the Great Indian Dream. The mother-in-law arrives in time: after all, no right thinking parent would want their off-spring to be born in India if offered the American alternative.
With all material comforts that money can bring, begin the first signs of uneasiness - a feeling that somehow things are not what they should be. The craze for exotic electronic goods, cars and vacations have been satiated. The week-end gatherings are becoming routine. Faced with a mid-life crisis, the upwardly mobile Indian's career graph plateus out. Younger and more aggressive Americans are promoted. With one of the periodic mini-recessions in the economy and the threat of a hostile take-over, the job itself seems far from secure.
Unable or unwilling to socialize with the Americans, the Indian retreats into a cocoon. At the home front,the children have grown up and along with American accents, have imbibed American habits (cartoons, hamburgers) and values(dating). They respond to their parents' exhortation of leading a clean Indian way of life by asking endless questions. The generation gap combines with the cultural chasm.
Not surprisingly, the first serious thoughts of returning to India occur at this stage. Taking advantage of his vacation time, the Indian returns home to 'explore' possibilities. Ignoring the underpaid and beaurocratic government sector, he is bewildered by the 'primitive' state of the private sector. Clearly overqualified even to be a managing director/chairman, he stumbles upon the idea of being an entrepreneur. In the seventies, his search for an arena to display his buisness skills normally ended in poultry farming. In the eighties, electronics is the name of the game. Undaunted by horror stories about government red tape and corruption he is determined to overcome the odds - with one catch. He has a few things to settle in the United States. After all, you can't just throw away a lifetime's work. And there are things like taxation and customs regulations to be taken note of. Pressed for a firm date, he says confidently 'next year' and therein lies our story. The next years come and go but there is no sign of our McCarthian friend.
About 40 years later our, by now, old friend dies of a scheduled heart-attack and it so happens that his last wish was that he be laid to rest in the city he was born in India. So our friend at last returns to India for good. But by now the people who were so looking forward to see him return to his homeland are no more.
In other words if 'X' is the current year, then the objective is to return in the 'X + 1' year. Since 'X' is a changing variable, the objective is never reached. Unable to truly melt in the 'Great Melting Pot', chained to his cultural moorings and haunted by an abject fear of giving up an accustomed standard of living, the Non-Resident Indian vacillates and oscillates between two worlds in a twilight zone. Strangely, this malady appears to affect only the Indians - all of our Asian brethren from Japan, Korea and even Pakistan seem immune to it.
The X = X + 1 Syndrome
When an Indian professional becomes a 'Non-Resident Indian' in the United States, he soon starts suffering from a strange disease. The symptoms are a mixture of restlessness, anxiety, hope and nostalgia. The virus is a deep inner need to get back home. The medical world has not coined a word for this malady. Strange as it is, it could go by a stranger name, the "X + 1" syndrome.
To understand this disease better, consider the background. Typically middle-class, the would be migrant's sole ambition through school is to secure admission into one of those heavily government subsidised institutions - the IITs. With the full backing of a doting family and a good deal of effort, he acheives his goal. Looking for fresh worlds to conquer, his sights rest on the new world. Like lemmings to the sea, hordes of IIT graduates descend on the four US consulates to seek the holiest of holy grails - the F-1 (student) stamp on the passport.
After crossing the visa hurdle and tearful farewell, our hero departs for the Mecca of higher learning, promising himself and his family that he will return some day - soon! The family proudly informs their relatives of each milestone - his G.P.A., his first car (twenty years old), his trip to Niagara Falls (photographs), his first winter (parkas, gloves). The two years roll by and he graduates at the top of his class. Now begins the 'great hunt' for a company that will not only give him a job but also sponsor him for that 3" X 3" grey plastic, otherwise known as the Green Card. A US company sensing a good bargain offers him a job. Naturally, with all the excitement of seeing his first pay check in four digit dollars, thoughts of returning to India are far away. His immediate objective of getting the Green Card is reached within a year.
Meanwhile, his family back home worry about the strange American influences (and more particularly, AIDS). Through contacts they line up a list of eligble girls from eligible families and wait for the great one's first trip home. Return he does, at the first available oppurtunity, with gifts for the family and mouth-watering tales of prosperity beyond imagination. After interviewing the girls, he picks the most likely (lucky) one to be Americanised. Since the major reason for the alliance is his long-term stay abroad, the question of his immediate return does not arise. Any doubts are set aside by the 'backwardnes' of working life, long train travel, lack of phones, inadequate oppurtunities for someone with hi-tech qualifications, and so on. The newly-weds return to America with the groom having to explain the system of arranged marriages to the Americans. Most of them regard it as barbaric and on the same lines as communism. The tongue-tied bride is cajoled into explaining the bindi and saree. Looking for something homely, the couple plunges into the frenetic expatriate week-end social scene comprising dinners, videos of Hindi/regional films, shopping at Indian stores, and bhajans.
Initially, the wife misses the warmth of her family, but the presence of washing machines, vacuum cleaners, daytime soap operas and the absence of a domineering mother-in-law helps. Bits of news filtering through from India, mostly from returning Indians, is eagerly lapped up. In discussions with friends, the topic of returning to India arises frequently but is brushed aside by the lord and master who is now rising in the corporate world and has fast moved into a two garage home - thus fulfilling the Great American Dream. The impending arrival of the first born fulfills the Great Indian Dream. The mother-in-law arrives in time: after all, no right thinking parent would want their off-spring to be born in India if offered the American alternative.
With all material comforts that money can bring, begin the first signs of uneasiness - a feeling that somehow things are not what they should be. The craze for exotic electronic goods, cars and vacations have been satiated. The week-end gatherings are becoming routine. Faced with a mid-life crisis, the upwardly mobile Indian's career graph plateus out. Younger and more aggressive Americans are promoted. With one of the periodic mini-recessions in the economy and the threat of a hostile take-over, the job itself seems far from secure.
Unable or unwilling to socialize with the Americans, the Indian retreats into a cocoon. At the home front,the children have grown up and along with American accents, have imbibed American habits (cartoons, hamburgers) and values(dating). They respond to their parents' exhortation of leading a clean Indian way of life by asking endless questions. The generation gap combines with the cultural chasm.
Not surprisingly, the first serious thoughts of returning to India occur at this stage. Taking advantage of his vacation time, the Indian returns home to 'explore' possibilities. Ignoring the underpaid and beaurocratic government sector, he is bewildered by the 'primitive' state of the private sector. Clearly overqualified even to be a managing director/chairman, he stumbles upon the idea of being an entrepreneur. In the seventies, his search for an arena to display his buisness skills normally ended in poultry farming. In the eighties, electronics is the name of the game. Undaunted by horror stories about government red tape and corruption he is determined to overcome the odds - with one catch. He has a few things to settle in the United States. After all, you can't just throw away a lifetime's work. And there are things like taxation and customs regulations to be taken note of. Pressed for a firm date, he says confidently 'next year' and therein lies our story. The next years come and go but there is no sign of our McCarthian friend.
About 40 years later our, by now, old friend dies of a scheduled heart-attack and it so happens that his last wish was that he be laid to rest in the city he was born in India. So our friend at last returns to India for good. But by now the people who were so looking forward to see him return to his homeland are no more.
In other words if 'X' is the current year, then the objective is to return in the 'X + 1' year. Since 'X' is a changing variable, the objective is never reached. Unable to truly melt in the 'Great Melting Pot', chained to his cultural moorings and haunted by an abject fear of giving up an accustomed standard of living, the Non-Resident Indian vacillates and oscillates between two worlds in a twilight zone. Strangely, this malady appears to affect only the Indians - all of our Asian brethren from Japan, Korea and even Pakistan seem immune to it.
Can't think of a header....
It has been sometime since I put something here. The reason is that I had this huge writer's block combined with my rather voluminous laziness (is the adjective appropriate?) which effectively prevented me penning any of my thoughts. Not that I had that many thoughts buzzing around my head over the weekend....
I gave my TOEFL on Friday and as expected, I screwed it up. I am not trying to give any excuse, but I guess those who have written it know how damn simple it is. And that simplicity was what made me do badly. I just did not think that the test was simply worth putting the effort to think about the right answer. Anyways, I guess it's just a case of sour grapes.
After the fiasco of my TOEFL, I just rested my over-worked brain (or so I like to think of it!) to get ready for this week's problems. But, (un)fortunately, it is still in a rest mode. What else do I write about?.....was watching this soccer match between Arsenal and Manchester United. Anyone who has even a passing knowledge of soccer and the English Premier League knows about the traditional rivalry as well as the excellent gaming prowess of these two clubs. But, the match turned out to be a damper as far as gaming prowess were concerned. The way that Arsenal played yesterday, they fully deserved to lose - which they did not, luckily! Man U on the other hand played a fairly attacking game but Lady Luck seemed to be just not pleased with Sir Alex's boys.
All the disappointment of the lack of a huge showdown that was expected during the match was, however, wiped out in the last 5 minutes of play. Patrick Viera getting red-carded, Keown literally pulling van Nistelrooy down to the ground to avoid a header...and the resultant penalty. Two sets of screams were heard in the common room: first when Man U fans rejoiced the award of the penalty..for it was surely the end of the road for Arsenal in the match. The second shout, to which yours truly contributed in no less means than the best, was when Nistelrooy kicked too hard and hit the bar. The match ended in a draw 0-0...but the last few moments were really worth the inital painful times when both teams performed far below their potential.
Whew....that was indeed a long enough description of the match. If anyone isn't interested in soccer but still read through...thanks for bearing with me.
I gave my TOEFL on Friday and as expected, I screwed it up. I am not trying to give any excuse, but I guess those who have written it know how damn simple it is. And that simplicity was what made me do badly. I just did not think that the test was simply worth putting the effort to think about the right answer. Anyways, I guess it's just a case of sour grapes.
After the fiasco of my TOEFL, I just rested my over-worked brain (or so I like to think of it!) to get ready for this week's problems. But, (un)fortunately, it is still in a rest mode. What else do I write about?.....was watching this soccer match between Arsenal and Manchester United. Anyone who has even a passing knowledge of soccer and the English Premier League knows about the traditional rivalry as well as the excellent gaming prowess of these two clubs. But, the match turned out to be a damper as far as gaming prowess were concerned. The way that Arsenal played yesterday, they fully deserved to lose - which they did not, luckily! Man U on the other hand played a fairly attacking game but Lady Luck seemed to be just not pleased with Sir Alex's boys.
All the disappointment of the lack of a huge showdown that was expected during the match was, however, wiped out in the last 5 minutes of play. Patrick Viera getting red-carded, Keown literally pulling van Nistelrooy down to the ground to avoid a header...and the resultant penalty. Two sets of screams were heard in the common room: first when Man U fans rejoiced the award of the penalty..for it was surely the end of the road for Arsenal in the match. The second shout, to which yours truly contributed in no less means than the best, was when Nistelrooy kicked too hard and hit the bar. The match ended in a draw 0-0...but the last few moments were really worth the inital painful times when both teams performed far below their potential.
Whew....that was indeed a long enough description of the match. If anyone isn't interested in soccer but still read through...thanks for bearing with me.
Monday, September 15, 2003
And the Lord said, "Let there be Water!"
Water..one of Man's essential needs! Imagine what we would have to go through when faced with a water shortage. The people of Chennai have been facing the problem bravely since the past few years. Being in Chennai, our campus also had to make some adjustments to the prevailing water crisis. We had compressed semesters with six-day weeks and all that.
But, what I am pained about is that this happened to my hostel in particular for three days in a row! There was no proper water supply in my hostel for three days. It is there in the morning times, sometimes lasting upto noon. But, who gets up in the morning, especially over the weekend?
OK, I get up at around 10 AM and having missed breakfast, head for the common room to read a newspaper while watching whatever is coming after the CAS pulled some channels off the air. As a pleasant surprise, we are still getting some of the non-free-to-air channels despite the absence of a set-top box....at least that's what I am told it is called. So, after treating myself to some nice trailers of Boom and Janasheen, I go up to take my bath...only to realise that the water has stopped. The enthusiastic freshers, not yet used to the ways of living in a hostel have finished the water; or so I assume. It is only a matter of hours before the water supply will resume.
This assumption leads me to my afternoon siesta...following which I realise there is still no water! It was then that someone told me that there is some problem (what it is, I still don't know!) and that the water would come only maybe in the night, as in around 11 PM, not a time to take a bath, you would agree! Now, imagine a day in a tropical city without taking bath.....if you can't, let me enlighten you.
The sun seems a bit sunnier; the air feels a bit more stuffy....on the whole, one feels like having run a long marathon, minus the exhaustion. Pardon me for the details, but, I have to make you realise my position. Clothes sticking to the skin, face glistening with sweat, general demeanour unpleasant, the world seems like some upper levels of hell opened up....and with a test the next day! As it is, I don't think it is necessary to explain how burdensome the whole experience of opening someone else's notes to study for something you don't have a clue about just before the exam day is! (that was a long sentence!!) So, imagine my plight when I have to do that selfsame task in such inhospitable circumstances.
Now, there was only one way to get out of it.....take a bath! So, I go to a friend's hostel, but seems like there was a general shortage of water everywhere, at least as far as the hostels in my campus are concerned! So, it just happened that I had to study for the test with the least bit of concentration and with every cell of my body poised to strike at anyone who even seems to be trying to pain me. As expected, my test can at best be commented upon as: "exam over; no more comments!" But, I obviously could not write the test without a bath. So, I did what I did not do in ages, nay eons: woke up at 6:30 in the morning, and got to bathe before the freshmen exhausted the water again. Extreme measures? Well, extreme circumstances call for extreme measures!!
But, what I am pained about is that this happened to my hostel in particular for three days in a row! There was no proper water supply in my hostel for three days. It is there in the morning times, sometimes lasting upto noon. But, who gets up in the morning, especially over the weekend?
OK, I get up at around 10 AM and having missed breakfast, head for the common room to read a newspaper while watching whatever is coming after the CAS pulled some channels off the air. As a pleasant surprise, we are still getting some of the non-free-to-air channels despite the absence of a set-top box....at least that's what I am told it is called. So, after treating myself to some nice trailers of Boom and Janasheen, I go up to take my bath...only to realise that the water has stopped. The enthusiastic freshers, not yet used to the ways of living in a hostel have finished the water; or so I assume. It is only a matter of hours before the water supply will resume.
This assumption leads me to my afternoon siesta...following which I realise there is still no water! It was then that someone told me that there is some problem (what it is, I still don't know!) and that the water would come only maybe in the night, as in around 11 PM, not a time to take a bath, you would agree! Now, imagine a day in a tropical city without taking bath.....if you can't, let me enlighten you.
The sun seems a bit sunnier; the air feels a bit more stuffy....on the whole, one feels like having run a long marathon, minus the exhaustion. Pardon me for the details, but, I have to make you realise my position. Clothes sticking to the skin, face glistening with sweat, general demeanour unpleasant, the world seems like some upper levels of hell opened up....and with a test the next day! As it is, I don't think it is necessary to explain how burdensome the whole experience of opening someone else's notes to study for something you don't have a clue about just before the exam day is! (that was a long sentence!!) So, imagine my plight when I have to do that selfsame task in such inhospitable circumstances.
Now, there was only one way to get out of it.....take a bath! So, I go to a friend's hostel, but seems like there was a general shortage of water everywhere, at least as far as the hostels in my campus are concerned! So, it just happened that I had to study for the test with the least bit of concentration and with every cell of my body poised to strike at anyone who even seems to be trying to pain me. As expected, my test can at best be commented upon as: "exam over; no more comments!" But, I obviously could not write the test without a bath. So, I did what I did not do in ages, nay eons: woke up at 6:30 in the morning, and got to bathe before the freshmen exhausted the water again. Extreme measures? Well, extreme circumstances call for extreme measures!!
Saturday, September 13, 2003
Another of those forwards...
I am again too lazy to think of anything to write about.....so I am again posting a forward I got long ago....
Mr. Logic died and went to heaven. When he got to the pearly gate, Saint Peter told him that new rules were in effect due to the advances in education on earth. In order to gain admittance a prospective heavenly soul must answer two questions:
1. Name two days of the week that begin with "T".
2. How many seconds are there in a year?
Mr. Logic thought for a few minutes and answered...
1.. The two days of the week that begin with "T" are Today and Tomorrow.
2.. There are 12 seconds in a year.
Saint Peter said, "OK, I'll buy the Today and Tomorrow answer, even though it's not the answer I expected. But how did you get 12 seconds in a year?"
Mr. Logic replied, "Well, January 2nd, February 2nd , March 2nd, etc..."
Saint Peter opens the gate without another word.
Word of the day: Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis - allegedly the longest word in English, found in Webster's Dictionary, meaning "a disease of the lungs caused by inhaling very fine irritant particles."
Mr. Logic died and went to heaven. When he got to the pearly gate, Saint Peter told him that new rules were in effect due to the advances in education on earth. In order to gain admittance a prospective heavenly soul must answer two questions:
1. Name two days of the week that begin with "T".
2. How many seconds are there in a year?
Mr. Logic thought for a few minutes and answered...
1.. The two days of the week that begin with "T" are Today and Tomorrow.
2.. There are 12 seconds in a year.
Saint Peter said, "OK, I'll buy the Today and Tomorrow answer, even though it's not the answer I expected. But how did you get 12 seconds in a year?"
Mr. Logic replied, "Well, January 2nd, February 2nd , March 2nd, etc..."
Saint Peter opens the gate without another word.
Word of the day: Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis - allegedly the longest word in English, found in Webster's Dictionary, meaning "a disease of the lungs caused by inhaling very fine irritant particles."
Tuesday, September 09, 2003
Yipee........
My site counter shows more than 100!!! thanx everyone who ever came in....am I in a blogging mood or what??? Three posts in a day!! Am getting the hang of it I guess......Anyways........
Pure Drivel...Rantings of a Jobless Brain!!
I am reproducing below a mail that I sent to my former schoolmates with whom I am sharing a non-active group. The personal referneces have been deleted here....thought it was OK to read....do tell me what you think of it.....and about the first two paragraphs, am i conceited or AM I CONCEITED??
Hey people...
I am jobless now..so guess u ppl have to dig in for a longish mail....mostly nuthing...but then..u never know...there's always pearls of wisdom when the wise men speak....so hold onto every word of mine.....
The preceding paragraph must have given u an idea of the kind of drivel that i am about to push ur way...not that i am feeling guilty about it...but well..thought that i mite even warn u all b4hand!!
Well, hitting off on a topic i like but am slowly losing interest in, is the lack of interest among my moderatees in mailing the grp a bit more regularly. i have heard enuf arguments as to y ppl r already vexed with others & hence stopped mailing...me too shares similar feelings....but then again, i guess i, being who i am, must be a bit more tolerant towards these unfortunate few & must not, in a fit of emotion, deprive them of the pleasure of receiving my mails. i remember reading how voltaire's letters were treasured even by kings...so i guess u must be cherishing these mails of mine.
Those who have categorically denied to mail us till others mail on a more regular basis are good. but those who lament the lack of activity in our grp and make solemn promises of mailing the grp regularly and still dont r the ones who bleed my heart (too much melodramatic??? blame the mood). i mean, i am here in this place that did give me three pleasurable years till now waiting for mails frm such people, more due to relative inactivity in my inbox frm other, more interesting quarters, and what do i see? nuthing...now that is a state i am able to accept usually..not when i am sitting here, with nuthing to do..so wat i do is tap a few keys on the keyboard to pass my time..and the result is this torturous mail that i unleash upon u all. (i am not going to even consider going thru it!!)
Now come the best of all people...those who are too "busy" to mail us...well, seems to me that there r ppl who r doing their studies (albiet to wat degree of success is something i am not going into) but still managing to mail others(read "me")...just so that this grp doesnt take all the members into the dead/alive-status-unknown group (does that exist?? must check out). all i can say at the near end of this harangue (shit...too much GRE??) to all the innocent victims of this mail is PLZ MAIL US (MORE OFTEN)!! parentheses for those who already mailed us at least thrice(such a low number)!!
PS: Blame Wodehouse (especially Psmith series) & my prof who postponed tomorrow's quiz....as for me....i am just an instrument under the control of my rather stupid brain!!
Urs Joblessly....
Sai Krishna.
PPS(only on the blog):now, what was that???? i actually read it now!!
Hey people...
I am jobless now..so guess u ppl have to dig in for a longish mail....mostly nuthing...but then..u never know...there's always pearls of wisdom when the wise men speak....so hold onto every word of mine.....
The preceding paragraph must have given u an idea of the kind of drivel that i am about to push ur way...not that i am feeling guilty about it...but well..thought that i mite even warn u all b4hand!!
Well, hitting off on a topic i like but am slowly losing interest in, is the lack of interest among my moderatees in mailing the grp a bit more regularly. i have heard enuf arguments as to y ppl r already vexed with others & hence stopped mailing...me too shares similar feelings....but then again, i guess i, being who i am, must be a bit more tolerant towards these unfortunate few & must not, in a fit of emotion, deprive them of the pleasure of receiving my mails. i remember reading how voltaire's letters were treasured even by kings...so i guess u must be cherishing these mails of mine.
Those who have categorically denied to mail us till others mail on a more regular basis are good. but those who lament the lack of activity in our grp and make solemn promises of mailing the grp regularly and still dont r the ones who bleed my heart (too much melodramatic??? blame the mood). i mean, i am here in this place that did give me three pleasurable years till now waiting for mails frm such people, more due to relative inactivity in my inbox frm other, more interesting quarters, and what do i see? nuthing...now that is a state i am able to accept usually..not when i am sitting here, with nuthing to do..so wat i do is tap a few keys on the keyboard to pass my time..and the result is this torturous mail that i unleash upon u all. (i am not going to even consider going thru it!!)
Now come the best of all people...those who are too "busy" to mail us...well, seems to me that there r ppl who r doing their studies (albiet to wat degree of success is something i am not going into) but still managing to mail others(read "me")...just so that this grp doesnt take all the members into the dead/alive-status-unknown group (does that exist?? must check out). all i can say at the near end of this harangue (shit...too much GRE??) to all the innocent victims of this mail is PLZ MAIL US (MORE OFTEN)!! parentheses for those who already mailed us at least thrice(such a low number)!!
PS: Blame Wodehouse (especially Psmith series) & my prof who postponed tomorrow's quiz....as for me....i am just an instrument under the control of my rather stupid brain!!
Urs Joblessly....
Sai Krishna.
PPS(only on the blog):now, what was that???? i actually read it now!!
On photocopiers...and my affair with them....
Kora kaagaz tha yeh man mera...
Likh diya naam ispe tera...
Stretching the limits of the relevence of these lines...I am quoting these in reference to that wonderful invention of Chester F. Carlson - the photocopier. Where I would be without this "Xerox" machine, I wouldn't even dare to think about!!
Why this eulogy to the photocopier? It is exam time here in my college and I am sustaining my already rather low CGPA by xeroxed notes. I still remember my first semester when I used to write my own notes. I fared badly then and my CGPA has been low ever since. The only easiest way of enhancing my performance (no pun intended!) was by getting the notes of those few people who dutifully jot down everything that the Prof. says. I mean, what else can one do if one does not want to cheat in exams?
Anyways, as my confidence in the notes of others increased, so did my exam-related expenditure. There's this saying in Telugu which goes something like a beggar having multiple courses during dinner...or something like that! Such was my case - get the notes from not one but two, preferably three guys - more pages to copy implies more money out! Then there was the gargantuan task of actually reading through all that material. On hindsight, I think that my disinterest in mechanical engineering came about by reading all those fundaes over and over again. But, then again, it could be just me...who knows!
The final outcome of all the midnight oil that I burnt was that there was this jumbled, chaotic mass of information in my head....none of which I cared to know in the right order. So, I kept on getting those low grades. Last semester, I must have spent around 500 rupees on these photocopies alone...and I got the lowest grades last sem. So, I have finally decided to kick the Xerox and make my own notes again.
I just had a test today...result of my own notes?? Couldn't recognize more than half the questions.....so I guess its back to good ol' Chester Carlson!!
Read of the day: Flight of the Eagles - Jack Higgins
Likh diya naam ispe tera...
Stretching the limits of the relevence of these lines...I am quoting these in reference to that wonderful invention of Chester F. Carlson - the photocopier. Where I would be without this "Xerox" machine, I wouldn't even dare to think about!!
Why this eulogy to the photocopier? It is exam time here in my college and I am sustaining my already rather low CGPA by xeroxed notes. I still remember my first semester when I used to write my own notes. I fared badly then and my CGPA has been low ever since. The only easiest way of enhancing my performance (no pun intended!) was by getting the notes of those few people who dutifully jot down everything that the Prof. says. I mean, what else can one do if one does not want to cheat in exams?
Anyways, as my confidence in the notes of others increased, so did my exam-related expenditure. There's this saying in Telugu which goes something like a beggar having multiple courses during dinner...or something like that! Such was my case - get the notes from not one but two, preferably three guys - more pages to copy implies more money out! Then there was the gargantuan task of actually reading through all that material. On hindsight, I think that my disinterest in mechanical engineering came about by reading all those fundaes over and over again. But, then again, it could be just me...who knows!
The final outcome of all the midnight oil that I burnt was that there was this jumbled, chaotic mass of information in my head....none of which I cared to know in the right order. So, I kept on getting those low grades. Last semester, I must have spent around 500 rupees on these photocopies alone...and I got the lowest grades last sem. So, I have finally decided to kick the Xerox and make my own notes again.
I just had a test today...result of my own notes?? Couldn't recognize more than half the questions.....so I guess its back to good ol' Chester Carlson!!
Read of the day: Flight of the Eagles - Jack Higgins
Sunday, September 07, 2003
What do I write about??? I think I will just post something that I received long back...which has been thought-provoking everytime I read it. Hope you find it that way too....
Abraham Lincoln's plea to the world, on the eve of his son's first day at school. These beautiful words portray a father's mixed feelings of joy & anxiety when his son steps into a new phase in life. Most parents have experienced this and it's so true !
"WORLD, take my son by the hand - he starts to school to-day. It's going to be strange and new for a while and I wish you would sort of treat him gently. You see up to now he's been king of the roost. He's been the boss of the backyard. I have always been handy to soothe his feelings"
"But now...... things are going to be different. This morning he is going to walk down the front steps, wave his hand and start on a great voyage that probably will include wars, tragedy and sorrows. To live in this world will require faith, love and courage. So, WORLD, I wish you would sort of take him by his young hands and teach him the things he would have to know. Teach him, but gently if you can. He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men are not true. Teach him that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for every crooked politician there is a dedicated leader. Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend."
"It will take time I know...but teach him, if you can, that a dollar earned is of far more value than five found. Teach him to learn to lose and also to enjoy winning; steer him away from envy, if you can; teach him the secret of quiet laughter. Let him learn early that bullies are the easiest people to lick."
"Teach him, if you can, the wonders of books. Give him a quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hillside. In school, teach him it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat. Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if every one tells him they are wrong. Teach him to be gentle with gentle people and tough with the tough. Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone is getting on the band wagon. Teach him to listen to all men, but teach him also to filter all he hears on a screen of truth, and take only the good that comes through"
"Teach him, if you can, how to laugh when he is sad. Teach him there is no shame in tears. Teach him to scoff at cynics and to beware of too much sweetness. Teach him to sell his brawn and brain to the higher bidders, but never to put a price tag on his heart and soul. Teach him to close his ears to a howling mob and to stand and fight if the thinks he's right."
"Treat him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes fine steel. Let him have the courage to be impatient, let him have the patience to be brave. Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself, because then he will always have sublime faith in mankind. This is a big order, but see what you can do. He is such a fine little fellow, my son."
These words hold true even today, some 150 years after Abe Lincoln first thought of them.
Abraham Lincoln's plea to the world, on the eve of his son's first day at school. These beautiful words portray a father's mixed feelings of joy & anxiety when his son steps into a new phase in life. Most parents have experienced this and it's so true !
"WORLD, take my son by the hand - he starts to school to-day. It's going to be strange and new for a while and I wish you would sort of treat him gently. You see up to now he's been king of the roost. He's been the boss of the backyard. I have always been handy to soothe his feelings"
"But now...... things are going to be different. This morning he is going to walk down the front steps, wave his hand and start on a great voyage that probably will include wars, tragedy and sorrows. To live in this world will require faith, love and courage. So, WORLD, I wish you would sort of take him by his young hands and teach him the things he would have to know. Teach him, but gently if you can. He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men are not true. Teach him that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for every crooked politician there is a dedicated leader. Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend."
"It will take time I know...but teach him, if you can, that a dollar earned is of far more value than five found. Teach him to learn to lose and also to enjoy winning; steer him away from envy, if you can; teach him the secret of quiet laughter. Let him learn early that bullies are the easiest people to lick."
"Teach him, if you can, the wonders of books. Give him a quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hillside. In school, teach him it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat. Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if every one tells him they are wrong. Teach him to be gentle with gentle people and tough with the tough. Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone is getting on the band wagon. Teach him to listen to all men, but teach him also to filter all he hears on a screen of truth, and take only the good that comes through"
"Teach him, if you can, how to laugh when he is sad. Teach him there is no shame in tears. Teach him to scoff at cynics and to beware of too much sweetness. Teach him to sell his brawn and brain to the higher bidders, but never to put a price tag on his heart and soul. Teach him to close his ears to a howling mob and to stand and fight if the thinks he's right."
"Treat him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes fine steel. Let him have the courage to be impatient, let him have the patience to be brave. Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself, because then he will always have sublime faith in mankind. This is a big order, but see what you can do. He is such a fine little fellow, my son."
These words hold true even today, some 150 years after Abe Lincoln first thought of them.
Friday, September 05, 2003
Back to normal.....
It's a new world - it's a new start
It's alive with the beating of - young hearts
It's a new day - it 's a new plan
I've been waiting for you
Here I am
- Bryan Adams
These words never meant more to me....yeah, I am feeling well again. Its a wonder what talking to a friend can do to a person. The main problem with what I was feeling was that I never felt like that before. It was this empty feeling with nothing to look forward to.....I guess I have said enough about what I was feeling. It's just that I was so confused because this was new to me.
I went online yesterday wishing that one of my friends would be online. I did find two of them...and that did indeed help me a lot. But, I have to thank Prerna here for just making me really understand what this was all about. I never thought seriously that I could really value a Net-pal as much as I do my old schoolmates, but Prerna sure did break into that inner circle of mine which had maybe two-three persons.
I am not saying that I finally overcame the cause of my blue-dom, if I may call it that, but the fact that I now can totally understand what it is, I am feeling good. It sure would take me some doing to get over it completely, but I am an easily-pleased man!! I am satisfied with this now....not that I would not take active steps for preventing this to come over me again. I finally realised how important it is to have some sense of meaning in what I do. That was what was lacking till now. All I need to do now is to find out why I am doing what I am doing. Shit..rather reminds me of the Matrix - "You have made the choice, you just have to understand it."
And yes, HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY! Don't forget to tell hose wonderful teachers who taught you a lot.....and I definitely don't mean those from school....people who taught you more important things. So, I want to thank Akka (Telugu for elder sister), Arun (my first best friend) and now, Prerna (my new philosopher!)...and of course others, all of whom I can't name for fear of driving away my few readers! :P
PS: Just read the post preview, is still definitely confusing...but I am getting there...
It's alive with the beating of - young hearts
It's a new day - it 's a new plan
I've been waiting for you
Here I am
- Bryan Adams
These words never meant more to me....yeah, I am feeling well again. Its a wonder what talking to a friend can do to a person. The main problem with what I was feeling was that I never felt like that before. It was this empty feeling with nothing to look forward to.....I guess I have said enough about what I was feeling. It's just that I was so confused because this was new to me.
I went online yesterday wishing that one of my friends would be online. I did find two of them...and that did indeed help me a lot. But, I have to thank Prerna here for just making me really understand what this was all about. I never thought seriously that I could really value a Net-pal as much as I do my old schoolmates, but Prerna sure did break into that inner circle of mine which had maybe two-three persons.
I am not saying that I finally overcame the cause of my blue-dom, if I may call it that, but the fact that I now can totally understand what it is, I am feeling good. It sure would take me some doing to get over it completely, but I am an easily-pleased man!! I am satisfied with this now....not that I would not take active steps for preventing this to come over me again. I finally realised how important it is to have some sense of meaning in what I do. That was what was lacking till now. All I need to do now is to find out why I am doing what I am doing. Shit..rather reminds me of the Matrix - "You have made the choice, you just have to understand it."
And yes, HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY! Don't forget to tell hose wonderful teachers who taught you a lot.....and I definitely don't mean those from school....people who taught you more important things. So, I want to thank Akka (Telugu for elder sister), Arun (my first best friend) and now, Prerna (my new philosopher!)...and of course others, all of whom I can't name for fear of driving away my few readers! :P
PS: Just read the post preview, is still definitely confusing...but I am getting there...
Thursday, September 04, 2003
Blues...
I am feeling down today...rather, I should say, I was feeling a lot down yesterday night, and it just continued today morning too. I don't know why I suddenly felt like that. Afterall, our hostel won the Choreo competition putting us in a very comfortable position in the inter-hostel competition.....but still...
I am actually pretty confused as to what exactly brought about this sudden blanket of blue on me. I feel like doing nothing, and it is not my laziness speaking here. I can think of only one word now: confusion! Maybe, it is because I am so used to some mess or the other almost all through what I can remember of my life, this new order leaves me confused.
I have been used to taking things as they come without worrying unduly about my future, and I never had all my tasks so properly defined. Now, I know exactly what I have to do & by when to do it and all that, but I just don't know why, I am not able to do it! It is not just the absolute loathing to physical labour that I admit to possess to a great degree, it is something more fundamental than that. It seems to me that I have lost my enthu in life....nothing seems to arouse me as I once remember. I was reading Zephyr's blog where she was talking about the loss of the child in her. Now, I feel like it is not just the child, but like the whole person "Me" is no longer here.
I would have loved it if this absence of "me" was in a more spiritual sense, but it is not! I am definitely feeling down. Yesterday night, I decided (for the umpteenth time) that I have to start acting, taking my life more seriously, but as I said, I am no longer able to muster enough enthusiasm....well, I just hope that my new resolution works out....God help me!
As my friend said day before yesterday, I might be going mad...I actually don't mind being called mad - afterall, almost all genius has been called mad sometime or the other!
I am actually pretty confused as to what exactly brought about this sudden blanket of blue on me. I feel like doing nothing, and it is not my laziness speaking here. I can think of only one word now: confusion! Maybe, it is because I am so used to some mess or the other almost all through what I can remember of my life, this new order leaves me confused.
I have been used to taking things as they come without worrying unduly about my future, and I never had all my tasks so properly defined. Now, I know exactly what I have to do & by when to do it and all that, but I just don't know why, I am not able to do it! It is not just the absolute loathing to physical labour that I admit to possess to a great degree, it is something more fundamental than that. It seems to me that I have lost my enthu in life....nothing seems to arouse me as I once remember. I was reading Zephyr's blog where she was talking about the loss of the child in her. Now, I feel like it is not just the child, but like the whole person "Me" is no longer here.
I would have loved it if this absence of "me" was in a more spiritual sense, but it is not! I am definitely feeling down. Yesterday night, I decided (for the umpteenth time) that I have to start acting, taking my life more seriously, but as I said, I am no longer able to muster enough enthusiasm....well, I just hope that my new resolution works out....God help me!
As my friend said day before yesterday, I might be going mad...I actually don't mind being called mad - afterall, almost all genius has been called mad sometime or the other!
Tuesday, September 02, 2003
I was telling a friend about the output of my creativity during my morning class. He took the risk of listening to it....just as you are by reading it....anyways, his reaction: "You lost it Saikri. Go see a psychiatrist." Now, what made him say that? I am still wondering...I mean, yeah, I agree that it sucked and all that, but, what more can one expect of a tormented soul to produce? It was not like I thought on what the class felt like before I penned those lines...they just came out....so, if anyone out there feels the same way, all I can say is: maybe I lost it....but its OK by me....as yet......
Bits of worstax poetry
My first time at poetry....I know it sucks, 'coz I wrote it in a class, completely pained by the droning of the Prof. Anyways, here goes....
I am feeling sleepy
I am feeling lost
All this running around classes
Just leaves me sloshed
Problems, problems
They ask me to solve
These numbers just
Make my head revolve
I long those days when
Ignorance was my salve
The Prof lulls me to sleep
My friends nudge me awake
All knowledge I fail to keep
My God! Grades are at stake!
Engines, motors, lathes and mills
All this bullshit surely kills
Sigma and Epsilon are major pain
They sure do give me stress and strain!
At this juncture, the Prof made a round of the class, stopping my 'creative' flow. I HAD to hurriedly copy something that was on the board and pretend that I was paying attention throughout the remaining time...Reason? The prof. caught a guy sleeping and another two talking. A record for this Prof., I should say......anyways....that was the end of my poetic reverie.
I am feeling sleepy
I am feeling lost
All this running around classes
Just leaves me sloshed
Problems, problems
They ask me to solve
These numbers just
Make my head revolve
I long those days when
Ignorance was my salve
The Prof lulls me to sleep
My friends nudge me awake
All knowledge I fail to keep
My God! Grades are at stake!
Engines, motors, lathes and mills
All this bullshit surely kills
Sigma and Epsilon are major pain
They sure do give me stress and strain!
At this juncture, the Prof made a round of the class, stopping my 'creative' flow. I HAD to hurriedly copy something that was on the board and pretend that I was paying attention throughout the remaining time...Reason? The prof. caught a guy sleeping and another two talking. A record for this Prof., I should say......anyways....that was the end of my poetic reverie.
Monday, September 01, 2003
I Hate Girls
I came across this article on Rediff Diary. Worth reading. I Hate Girls
In case you are wondering if I am a chauvinist, I am not, but the article does carry an important message.
In case you are wondering if I am a chauvinist, I am not, but the article does carry an important message.
