I

New Version of Anti-patterns Parser

2011-11-14T22:00:00.000+05:30

I have a new version of the anti-patterns parser.

New Features
1. Rules Library: Anti-patterns rules have been moved out of the parser to an external file. Users can therefore add, modify and delete rules to the library without the inconvenience of having to touch the parser. This can also help individuals customize and eliminate false negatives that the parser usually catches (while being generic).

2. Hints: The old parser could only identify anti-patterns in Perl and Shell scripts. This was difficult for users new to the tool and especially for non-experts of Perl and Shell to understand and act upon the output. The new version provides one or more hints to enable fixing each anti-pattern (partly based on Programming Anti-patterns in Perl and Programming Anti-patterns in Shell). For a complete idea, however, the user may still have to refer the alternatives.pl and alternatives.sh scripts.

3. Level: Each anti-pattern also has a level associated with it -- IGNORE, WARN, ERROR. This is currently not being used by the parser itself, but it will hopefully help users to parse for anti-patterns in severity levels of their interest.

The new version also benefits from a few bug fixes, dead code removals, and miscellaneous improvements. Most of all, I finally learnt how to apply Perl's map and nested map, yay! I think the parser is more readable now, and I hope I haven't abused map. You tell me.

Rules
An anti-pattern rule can be defined using the keywords LANG, REGEX, HINT and LEVEL. Lines not starting with a keyword are ignored as comments, and anti-patterns should be separated by comments. LANG can either be "perl" or "shell". REGEX is a Perl regular expression. LANG and REGEX are required keywords. HINT and LEVEL are optional. The anti-patterns parser doesn't try to check for errors in the rules library, so the user will have to take care of that aspect.

Usage
Because of the addition of a rules library, and the option for users to use their own custom library, the parser now needs an extra input.
$ ./anti-patterns.pl file|dir|pkg

Download
I have deleted all previous files related to anti-patterns. You can download the latest zipped folder here. It contains updated versions of anti-patterns.pl, alternatives.pl, alternatives.sh and a new anti-patterns.lib. I am inexplicably hesitant about hosting this on Github. Please note that this is being released under MIT License, thanks to the approval of Symantec Corporation.

Notes
The feature of suggesting one or more hints comes at a price: performance. Because the parser should now check against every anti-pattern, and not break immediately after finding the first one, the parser is several times slower than the old version. This is noticeable while running the parser on a large directory or package, though it may not be while running on a file. By the time I figure out a solution to this (please help!), if you want to disable multiple hints (and are satisfied by just one hint), comment out the only "else" blocks that are part of parsePerl and parseShell subroutines.

The new parser hasn't yet been extensively tested, so there are bound to be bugs. Feel free to report bugs, and suggest new anti-patterns and features. Thank you in advance.

Credits
All credit for this release goes to Rocky Ren, a Symantec colleague. Many people have made feature requests, but Rocky went several steps further. He not only requested specific features, but also suggested how those features could be implemented -- using his own prototype -- making me guilty enough to include his suggestions. The rules file and its format are also entirely his idea. Many thanks to Rocky.

Silence: A Virtue or a Vice? - II

2011-07-27T22:00:00.002+05:30

NOTE: I have noticed for some time now that Silence: A Virtue or a Vice? is the most popular post on this blog and also ranks very highly for a search engine query. Given its popularity and its implied importance I thought of revisiting it after six years. My punditry is as disputable as ever.

First, semantics. I won't address whether silence is a virtue or a vice. Verbs are less confusing than nouns. To be, or not to be silent, that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to ...

"Being silent" is an action (or sometimes an inaction). For convenience, I will classify actions into two types: context-free and context-sensitive. I can't think of good examples of context-free actions: eating chocolate, parents admonishing, managers complaining. Examples of context-sensitive actions: compiling source code, wiping mouth or nose against the sleeve, getting married. For the second category, the what (the actions) can be related to how, when, where, who(m), why.

"Being silent" is highly context-sensitive and its virtuousness or viciousness "depends". A few examples of its context-sensitivity:

How: indifferently, angrily, empathically

When: while watching a movie, after a fight

Where: in a party, in a meeting, in private

Who(m): who I am, who you are (to me)

Why: to hurt, to tolerate, to support

The complexity and subjectivity is evident.

The resolution is known in many ordinary contexts: answering a phone, being silent in the library, being yourself at home. I guess we do what we know. The resolution seems undecidable in some contexts: meeting a grieving friend, greeting a stranger daily seen in the elevator, getting caught while making fun of a colleague. Without a strong reason to do the opposite, I would stick to doing what I am, lest I should further lose balance in an awkward situation. There are some other contexts when there is a clear conflict, between the resolution that we think is more appropriate and the one we tend to choose because that is what we are. The conflict leads to this unpleasant dilemma, whether it is right or wrong, virtuous or vicious.

There is a part of this dilemma that is not rational (I think) but central to it: personality. It is difficult to choose, much less accept, a resolution that goes against one's personality. e.g. I have been described in various psychological profilings to be introverted, reserved, private, etc. along with their qualifiers like strong, primary, very clear. It is fair to say that I have a predilection for silence.

There is however one distinction I realized recently -- this is starting to read like an infomercial -- that diminished to me the magnitude of this conflict (and others of this kind). It is the distinction between personality and behavior. The former is about who a person is; the latter is about how a person is.

Predilection for silence may be part of my personality, but to be or not to be silent is behavioral. Today, as an introvert who speaks up in group meetings far more often than I ever did, I don't think my personality has changed so much (in this aspect), but my behavior has (to a certain extent).

I know it is easier said than done. That is the reason why I'm saying it.

The Fuss About Programming Anti-patterns

2011-06-23T10:45:00.001+05:30

Andrew Koenig started talking about programming anti-patterns more than 15 years ago. It probably never got as popular as it should have been because it addresses the mistakes in syntactically correct software and we can imagine that the number of wrong ways to do something might be an inexhaustible list compared to the right ways. I still think it is a useful concept. Even experts are known to make mistakes, all the time. Majority of the performance enhancements I came across in my limited experience in fact fall under bug fixes, whether it is because the solution wasn't designed well enough or wasn't implemented well enough.

Given a system, improving its performance in general corresponds to improving the performance of its slowest component. This needs the identification of the slowest component to begin with using profiling at some level. Profiling, being time-consuming, isn't always done until a system (an operation on the system) feels poorly performant, and such feelings get mixed up and get slower to perceive as the thickness (complexity) of a system increases.

For this reason I like the approach of checking for known programming anti-patterns using static code analysis. Static code analysis may get slower than build times, but is faster than test suite execution on built images. For now. The day the list of anti-patterns grows infinitely long, and along with it the static code analysis cycle time, the approach won't be feasible (though tiering of anti-patterns based on severity and history of occurrences seems promising).

Hence my interest in static code analyzers like Coverity and FindBugs, though I am yet to explore them well enough to actually know them. I am not aware of any major work along similar lines for Shell and Perl. I think it's worth exploring because there's a significant amount of software written in them (definitely in Symantec Corporation) and they're already slower than compiled languages.

Shell Scripts

The famous todo software is fully written in Bash. It has a lot of anti-patterns, a few of them being various usages of "echo | grep", "echo | sed", "echo | tr" itself. The longest piping anti-pattern in todo.sh is of the form: "echo | sed | eval sort | sed | awk | sed | eval cat". It takes a list of todo items (echo), pads them appropriately with leading zeroes (sed), sorts them (eval sort), color codes the done items (sed), does something more related to color coding (awk), nullifies a few strings (sed), and then gets the final list (eval cat usually). Doesn't seem like the most natural way to do. If nothing, and if my superficial understanding isn't totally off, all the seds can be merged into the awk.

The Shell scripts that are part of the Cygwin installation on my computer have over a hundred anti-patterns of type "echo | sed" alone, and another hundred of "expr", without having all the packages. Bash Completion is one of the packages which might benefit significantly from fixing Shell anti-patterns, and it might translate into better response times. e.g. Command completion for "gcc --" with gcc v3.4.4-999 and bash-completion v1.3-1 creates 12 new processes, 6 of them due to a sed, sort and tr and their prerequisite bashes.

Perl Scripts

Fedora users will be familiar with dvd::rip, largely written in Perl. Even if one-tenth of its $command lines refer to Unix commands, they account a large number of anti-patterns. I'm not familiar with the command-line utilities related to multimedia, but there seem to be several avoidable usages of "cd", "convert", "echo", "ffmpeg", "ls", "mkdir", "rm", "umask", "which". (I've not gone through the source code, but glanced at the parsed code -- which I'll soon come to -- so I'm likely to be mistaken.)

On Solaris, the SUNWwebminu package (11.10.0 version that shipped with Solaris 10) has a surprising number and a wide variety of Perl anti-patterns using -- cat, chown, cd, cp, echo, find, grep, hostname, mv, ps, pwd, rm, rsh, sed, ssh, uname -- you name it. It could be the package that benefits the most from an overhaul in this direction.

The above mentions are only examples of programming anti-patterns out there in the vast universe of software that is being written, shipped, used. That is understandably because even experts are known to make mistakes, all the time. What we need to work on are mechanisms that can minimize those.

Below is a table of counts of common Unix commands found in scripts across various OS installations that I had access to. They are incomplete and likely full of false negatives, and the OSs were not full installations. I'm sure you understand my preference to not hit you with the versions, package names, their versions, etc. They don't mean much. They don't mean nothing either.

AIX Perl		AIX Shell		Cygwin Perl		Cygwin Shell		HPUX Perl		HPUX Shell		RHEL Perl		RHEL Shell		Solaris Perl		Solaris Shell
Packages	25	Packages	103	Packages	19	Packages	95	Packages	27	Packages	56	Packages	86	Packages	175	Packages	42	Packages	227
Total Files	2880	Total Files	1832	Total Files	2361	Total Files	1563	Total Files	7630	Total Files	7533	Total Files	1262	Total Files	2518	Total Files	5600	Total Files	5271
Size (MB)	27	Size (MB)	13.5	Size (MB)	25	Size (MB)	8.5	Size (MB)	57.75	Size (MB)	84.25	Size (MB)	11.5	Size (MB)	13	Size (MB)	28.25	Size (MB)	20.5
Files	421	Files	759	Files	285	Files	403	Files	796	Files	692	Files	313	Files	673	Files	684	Files	963
Total	1935	Total	20684	Total	257	Total	2370	Total	841	Total	23137	Total	255	Total	9733	Total	1566	Total	13907
Command	Count	Command	Count	Command	Count	Command	Count	Command	Count	Command	Count	Command	Count	Command	Count	Command	Count	Command	Count
/dev/null	410	/dev/null	5281	/dev/null	89	/dev/null	531	/dev/null	248	echo	5776	/dev/null	105	echo	2539	/dev/null	1088	echo	2823
grep	326	cat	5105	cat	41	sed	381	cat	105	cat	3948	cat	26	/dev/null	2037	rsh	190	/dev/null	2605
echo	137	grep	2607	pwd	30	echo	371	echo	85	sed	3869	ifconfig	22	sed	1582	mount	167	grep	1431
rm	99	echo	2414	echo	27	cat	226	rm	81	/dev/null	3628	echo	20	grep	1232	cat	161	sed	1419
mkdir	93	awk	2383	cp	15	basename	193	grep	50	grep	2349	find	18	cat	1112	cd	131	cat	1224
hostname	92	cut	1348	hostname	12	grep	185	hostname	46	awk	1011	uname	15	awk	281	umount	100	expr	742
ls	89	sed	1087	grep	12	awk	137	pwd	44	eval	977	ls	14	uname	257	uname	73	awk	733
awk	85	rm	579	date	12	expr	116	cp	44	expr	607	grep	14	expr	244	df	72	cut	528
cp	81	expr	466	cd	12	dirname	68	find	41	uname	401	pwd	12	eval	237	ps	61	basename	466
uname	71	ls	344	chmod	11	sort	62	ps	31	basename	389	ps	12	sort	211	rm	59	uname	406
date	69	sort	290	bc	10	uname	59	uname	29	rm	377	cp	12	ls	181	ifconfig	59	cd	327
cat	62	egrep	290	ls	9	ssh	52	cd	27	cut	363	date	11	cut	175	hostname	59	dirname	310
cd	58	basename	277	rm	8	date	50	ls	18	egrep	324	sort	8	basename	174	pwd	39	ls	305
find	55	cp	233	find	8	cut	48	eval	18	ps	262	hostname	7	find	161	touch	35	pwd	277
egrep	49	wc	228	tr	6	pwd	44	date	18	cp	249	mount	6	egrep	148	echo	35	rm	272
pwd	43	tail	212	eval	6	eval	42	bc	18	ssh	193	mkdir	6	date	142	ssh	34	egrep	268
ifconfig	40	head	198	uname	5	ps	40	ssh	16	ls	182	basename	5	tail	105	find	34	eval	259
basename	38	cd	186	ps	5	hostname	27	tr	15	pwd	161	mv	4	pwd	87	cp	31	mount	251
mount	35	tr	172	sed	4	cd	27	netstat	15	find	157	eval	4	cd	81	ping	25	sort	197
rsh	34	ps	167	netstat	4	egrep	26	kill	15	sort	154	cd	4	dirname	75	grep	18	date	192
head	34	mount	165	cut	4	wc	22	sed	14	tr	146	wc	3	ps	74	tr	17	find	120
sed	30	hostname	161	wc	3	chmod	19	awk	13	date	142	tr	3	tr	72	ls	16	hostname	119
cut	28	uname	155	sort	3	ls	18	sort	10	wc	122	ping	3	rm	71	date	16	ps	91
tail	26	df	146	head	3	tr	17	touch	9	cd	104	ln	3	wc	65	chown	15	tr	89
netstat	26	date	144	dirname	2	kill	17	ln	9	tail	98	df	3	head	54	pkginfo	13	head	73
umount	25	mv	135	chown	2	rm	15	chown	9	head	96	cut	3	uniq	49	mv	12	pkginfo	70
mv	25	mkdir	123	ping	1	find	15	mv	8	dirname	82	awk	3	kill	36	chmod	11	mkdir	70
ps	21	fgrep	122	mv	1	tail	13	mkdir	7	kill	70	rsh	2	hostname	31	tail	8	wc	65
chmod	21	dirname	121	df	1	umask	12	cut	7	hostname	68	rm	2	mount	30	sort	8	tail	65
kill	16	kill	118			cp	12	head	4	bc	65	head	2	netstat	27	prtvtoc	8	fgrep	65
dirname	16	find	94			touch	9	du	4	fgrep	49	chown	2	mkdir	26	kill	7	cp	60
ping	13	pwd	93			mkdir	8	dirname	4	ln	48	umount	1	ln	21	sed	6	kill	55
ln	12	umount	76			head	8	chmod	4	uniq	45	touch	1	umask	19	eval	6	df	49
wc	11	eval	71			mount	4	tail	3	mount	36	kill	1	cp	19	mkdir	5	mv	48
sort	11	ln	65			fgrep	4	ifconfig	3	mkdir	35	egrep	1	mv	17	ln	5	svccfg	42
tr	10	uniq	57			uniq	3	egrep	3	touch	26	dirname	1	touch	16	head	5	chmod	40
touch	10	du	43			sleep	3	scp	2	sleep	24	chmod	1	pkginfo	15	dirname	5	pgrep	39
df	9	chmod	43			rsh	3	ping	2	mv	21			ssh	14	cut	5	ssh	38
ssh	7	netstat	42			pgrep	3	mount	2	chmod	17			scp	10	wc	4	uniq	36
eval	7	umask	24			ln	3	df	2	umask	13			chmod	7	netstat	4	ln	32
chown	6	touch	21			bc	3	cksum	2	ifconfig	11			umount	6	expr	2	umask	29
rcp	5	ifconfig	19			mv	2	basename	2	chown	11			ifconfig	5	du	2	ifconfig	27
vmstat	2	rsh	13			chown	2	wc	1	scp	10			sleep	4	uniq	1	chown	23
uniq	2	ping	12			ifconfig	1	umount	1	ping	9			fgrep	4	scp	1	touch	22
scp	2	ssh	7							netstat	9			psrinfo	3	basename	1	svcadm	18
fgrep	2	sleep	7							du	6			ping	3			umount	16
bc	2	bc	6							umount	5			pgrep	2			ping	13
		svcs	4							pkginfo	4			df	2			svcs	11
		pkginfo	4							df	4			vmstat	1			cksum	11
		cksum	3							cksum	4			sar	1			bc	10
		chown	3							svcs	3			isainfo	1			sleep	8
		vmstat	1							psrinfo	1			du	1			isainfo	7
										bc	1			cksum	1			netstat	5
										basename	1			chown	1			du	4
										awk	1			bc	1			iostat	3
										/dev/null	1							prtvtoc	2
																		sar	1
																		psrinfo	1

Anti-patterns Parser

Symantec Corporation gave me permission to share this study with the community. Here I am with a hope to widen this discussion and learn something. As part of it, anti-patterns.pl is a dirty parser that I wrote and extensively used along the way, and somehow embarrassed of. I'm sharing it only to convey a better idea of how easy it is to catch some of the programming anti-patterns. Before using it, understand that the parser is very incomplete, incorrect (defined how?), without any warranties or guarantees, and all that cal. I won't even recommend using it, but do take a look.

From all the code that I've read so far, I can see this barely scratches the surface. Apart from continuing to find and add programming anti-patterns in Shell and Perl, my next steps are to move on to Java and C in line with my personal and company interests. Please point me in possible directions and reach out to me if you share my interests.

Programming Anti-patterns in Perl

2011-06-10T10:00:00.002+05:30

I will spare you with another round of the first half of this post and jump straight to the table of anti-patterns and alternatives in Perl. Check out alternatives.pl for detailed examples. These barely scratch the surface for a rich language like Perl, whose motto itself is TMTOWTDI. My Perl knowledge is still amateurish and these concentrate almost exclusively on the "Accessing memory << Calling a function << Forking a process" guideline. This might be useful for anybody switching from Shell to Perl. So I hope you'll have a lot more to contribute.

30th June, 2011: TimeRatio is the ratio of time taken by Alternative to that by Anti-pattern, as taken from two different trials, using Perl 5.8 on Solaris 10 (Sun T5120). I hope these time ratios will highlight better why especially some of the anti-patterns are to be avoided. My suggestion is to not take these numbers on face value.

Anti-pattern	Alternative	TimeRatio1	TimeRatio2
awk	open, split, close	0.78	0.79
basename	s/.*\///	859.47	872.42
cat	open, close	28.48	28.72
cd	chdir	1588.34	1577.63
cp	use File::Copy "cp"	1.85	1.87
chmod	chmod (Perl)	335.75	343.30
cut	split	306.35	307.05
date	localtime	200.32	214.04
dirname	s/\/^\/*$//	325.41	324.56
echo	print	4008.82	4006.22
find	use File::Find	0.55	0.55
grep	open, grep (Perl), close	2.56	2.57
head	open, break, close	42.12	42.60
hostname	use Sys::Hostname	10361.94	10451.25
id	getpwnam	43.38	43.28
kill	kill (Perl)	55.04	50.84
ln -s	symlink	1010.70	995.73
ls	opendir, closedir	32.87	24.17
mkdir	mkdir (Perl)	13.21	12.93
mkdir -p	use File::Path	9.85	9.87
mv	use File::Copy "move"	32.53	32.65
ping	use Net::Ping	1.04	0.65
ps -elf	use Proc::ProcessTable	3.84	3.84
pwd	$ENV{'PWD'}	3575.62	3742.53
rm	unlink	75.05	74.07
rmdir	rmdir (Perl)	20.13	19.88
rm -r	use File::Path	9.00	9.02
sed	open, s/find/replace/, close	25.54	25.76
sleep	sleep (Perl)	2825.82	2824.30
sort	open, sort (Perl), close	4.31	4.18
tail	open, close	2.71	2.69
touch	open, close	65.41	65.41
umask	umask (Perl)	7749.43	7742.40
uname	use Config	13662.56	13652.62
uniq	open, unless seen, close	2.33	2.35
wc -l	open, close	6.79	6.82

Programming Anti-patterns in Shell Scripts

2011-06-09T12:00:00.001+05:30

How to create a new file from inside a Shell script?

touch newfile1

# OR

echo > newfile2

#OR

: > newfile3

Which of these is better? "touch" is a Unix command, "echo" and ":" (No-Op) are built-in Shell functions. If you "time" the above operations, you will see that the first is very much slower than the second is slightly slower than the third. I'll spare you the reasons.

In my opinion this is a difference that is not highlighted enough. I have seen thousands of lines of "shell script" which are indistinguishable from "one-liners" typed at the command-line. The reason anyone writes something inside a script and not at the command-line is the assumption that it will be used more than once, and that alone is reason enough for "efficiency" to be a criterion. Nothing slows down a script like a bunch of one-liners in it. And scripts are slow to start with.

Contrary to popular belief a Shell script is not a file with a bunch of lines each with some combination of Unix commands (called "commands text"). Shells are like all other languagues, with many useful features. I have a few unoriginal guidelines for writing scripts (Shell, Perl, Batch, ...):

1. Use environment and internal variables. (Like $HOSTNAME, $MACHTYPE, $PWD in Bash.)

2. Use built-ins and libraries. (Shells have a type command to verify the existence of an eqivalent built-in.)

3. Self-parse text. (Shells have built-in string manipulation and substring extraction functions with regexp support.)

4. Combine operations. (Many commands, internal and external, can take multiple arguments.)

5. Check fork rampage and /dev/null redirections. (They are used far more than necessary.)

6. Refer the manual. (Again.)

Moving on to the more useful part. Below is a table containing many anti-patterns that can be found -- I came across each of them numerous times -- in Shell scripts along with suggested alternatives. It is a work in progress. I hope you find it useful and I hope you will help add more rows ot it. Check out alternatives.sh for detailed examples of the anti-patterns and alternatives. It should work with various other Shells as well with minor changes. Combinations of these anti-patterns are common, and alternatives aren't necessarily the most efficient, nor are they efficient all the time.

30th June, 2011: TimeRatio is the ratio of time taken by Alternative to that by Anti-pattern, as taken from two different trials, using Korn Shell 93 (dtksh) on Solaris 10 (Sun T5120). I hope these time ratios will highlight better why especially some of the anti-patterns are to be avoided. My suggestion is to not take these numbers on face value.

Anti-pattern	Alternative	TimeRatio1	TimeRatio2
awk '{print}'	read -A	1.31	1.32
awk \| grep	awk	1.09	1.09
awk \| sed	awk	1.53	1.53
awk \| sort	awk	2.18	2.18
basename	${string##*/}	2.44	2.44
cat \| awk	awk	1.1	1.1
cat \| grep	grep	1.38	1.36
cat \| head	head	21.59	21.46
cat \| read	read	1.45	1.47
cat \| sed	sed	1.17	1.17
cat \| tail	tail	1.6	1.5
cat \|wc	wc	15.21	15.45
/usr/bin/cd	cd	407.87	413.4
dirname	${string%/*}	2.18	2.3
/usr/bin/echo	echo	99.28	130.35
echo \| awk	($string)	212.72	159.63
echo \| cut	($string)	100.83	100.25
echo \| cut \| cut	substrings	187.91	185.18
echo \| grep	if [[ $string == regexp ]]	381.61	378.55
echo \| sed	${string/find/replace}	341.36	329.14
echo \| wc -m	${#string}	161.39	165.7
echo \| wc -w	($string); ${#array[*]}	85.69	85.9
grep \| awk	grep	1.07	1.07
grep \| grep	sed	1	1.01
grep \| sed	sed	1.02	1.03
grep \| grep -v	sed	1.01	1
grep \| wc	grep -c	0.99	0.99
head	read, break	1.2	1.21
head \| awk	read -A, break	66.72	68.4
/usr/bin/kill	kill	3.75	5.79
ls \| awk	(ls)	1.04	1.23
/usr/bin/pwd	$PWD	305.72	271.46
sed \| sed	sed	1.09	1.05
tail \| awk	(tail)	1.48	1.44
/usr/bin/test	test	210.81	203.97
/usr/bin/true	TRUE	496.71	452.64
/usr/bin/ulimit	ulimit	180.74	167.1
/usr/bin/umask	umask	180.16	166.78
uname	$ENV	3.24	3.21
wc \| awk	(wc)	13.53	11.67

Programming Anti-patterns

2011-06-07T10:30:00.001+05:30

TMTOWTDI is often a trait of the problem that one is trying to solve, and not just the programming language being used. Solutions can be simple or complicated, efficient or inefficient and an invisible constraint of solving problems (implementing) is to find a solution that is in the neighborhood of simple and efficient. Internet helps in finding a solution that is popular or common, and not necessarily efficient.

When I started noticing lots of inefficient code and identified a few patterns across them, I embarked on a study of programming anti-patterns. The definition I follow is, "Commonly used inefficient programming practices to which better alternatives are known".

For my study I also need anti-patterns to be easily identifiable so that dummies like yours truly can identify them, for comparisons between anti-patterns and alternatives to be easily made, for static code analyzers to fish them out, and for changes to be relatively easy to implement. Bill Pugh once said (probably in this) that the goal of FindBugs is to find bugs that are one step away from compilers. My goal is similar, only my focus is on efficiency more than correctness. (There are other kinds of anti-patterns, most famously design anti-patterns, but my focus at present is on code efficiency itself.)

The problem of looking for a new anti-pattern (source) is non-trivial. A few guidelines that I am considering are:

1. Accessing memory << Calling a function << Forking a process: There are exceptions to this, but to my understanding it's mostly true. Smaller the operation that needs to be performed, larger the overhead of doing it in round-about methods. It's easier to check the forking of processes as explained earlier. Re-calling functions is apprently not very uncommon, but I'm yet to scratch the surface of calling functions vis-a-vis reusing their return values.

2. Legacy code: In my experience code is more often added to, and old code isn't as much "updated" as is "fixed". Resultantly, "legacy code" to a great extent contains code written ages ago. Languages on the other hand constantly evolve, and the things of interest here are newly introduced, say functions, that can do something better. (The first example that comes to my mind is the rampant presence of += for string concatenation in Java instead of StringBuffer or StringBuilder.)

3. n00bs: Bill Pugh mentioned in the same video that, not surprisingly, people new to a programming language are a great source of learning how not to do something (even though it is not syntactically wrong). I have personally seen this to be true. A trickier subset of this is anti-patterns brought in when one migrates from one programming language to another.

NewProcs: A High-level System Activity Indicator

2011-06-03T12:30:00.000+05:30

Operating systems are fairly multi-tasking and processes are their major, most visible components. In line with Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, which I see everywhere these days, observing processes can be more accurate than observing any smaller components. In my job I mostly observe process-level behaviors; at least I begin there. Recently I started staring from one more level zoomed out -- the lifetime of a process -- and insensitively asking, "Should this process have been created?"

It's a question that is sometimes easy to decide, but not always. It is like an Age of Empires player asking herself, "Should I create a new villager?". It depends on the tasks pending, the resources available, the world and the neighborhood into which he might be born, the greater purpose his long-term life could serve, and even the nature of the creator.

One small step towards deciding this is the knowledge of process lifetimes, their births and deaths, and so a measurement that I now routinely take is "NewProcs". On Windows, Process Monitor through filters "Operation is Process Create" and "Operation is Process Exit" does a beautiful job of this. On Solaris the following DTrace one-liner will do: dtrace -qn 'proc:::exec-success, proc:::exit {printf("%d\t%d\t%Y\t%s\n", pid, ppid, walltimestamp, curpsinfo->pr_psargs)}'. On OSs with SystemTap the following one-liner will do: stap forktracker.stp (the file should be located in the SystemTap examples directory). On Unix-based OSs, I have a feeling GNU Acct can serve as a workaround.

One major area that can take advantage of this is "scripts" - be they Batch scripts or Shell scripts or Perl scripts. Especially in enterprise software, perepheral operations like installations and configurations use a lot of scripts. I will try to elaborate on that in the near future.

The number of processes being created and killed itself isn't necessarily a good indicator, but the detailed list can occasionally throw a lot of light on the high-level system activity during various operations. Below are a few examples (naïve layman's curiosities):

1. On Windows 7 and Windows Server 2008 (probably Windows Vista as well), Explorer can navigate the calendar, connect to various networks, switch battery power plans, browse and search for various programs all without creating any new processes. However the Speakers/Headphones icon in the system tray needs to create a new process, SndVol, for any basic volume change operation.

2. Windows Media Player Network Sharing Service Configuration Application (wmpnscfg) is one inexplicable troll. It keeps appearing during scenarios where its existence isn't all that clear. e.g. Whenever one connects to some networks, several short-lived wmpnscfg processes get created. A disconnect is usually associated with another instance.

3. When one looks for the version of Google Chrome (at least with 11.0.696.71), the "About Google Chrome" dialog creates a GoogleUpdateOnDemand process which goes on to create two more processes: GoogleUpdate /ondemand, GoogleUpdate -Embedding. The browser also has a nice feature of Gmail notifications. Unlike notifications from Microsoft Office Outlook, each Gmail notification comes through a separate procress (chrome -type=renderer, the tab process). Google Chrome is known to be a "multi-processed" application for reasons of stability and security, but.

Cygwin (and MinGW) earnestly takes up its share of process creation as explained here. I'm sure everyone has their reasons, but high birth rates and infant mortality rates always concern me. Should these processes have been created? What do you think?

vxperf2 Examples

2011-06-01T12:00:00.002+05:30

1st July, 2011: GitHub is the new home of vxperf2. Download vxperf2.

Let us take a sar log which was first collected as a binary using -A and -o options and then dumped as a text database using -A and -f options. The log is almost in a text database format, with several tables in it. It has one OS-specific header and many "Average:" lines that are not of our interest because we're interested in subsets of the duration in which the logging was done, and not the entire duration.

So we first convert the log to a table using log2db.pl from the command-line or log2db module (modifySysstat subroutine) inside a Perl script. sardb is the text database file that we'll use from here onwards.

Example 1

Suppose we want a summary of CPU utilization (just %usr, %sys), load averages (ldavg-1, ldavg-5, ldavg-15), faulting (fault/s, majflt/s) and context switching (cswch/s). Our rules file would be something like:

# rules1: Rules file for Example 1.

# Any line in the rules file that does not start with a keyword is ignored.

y-axis: %usr %sys ldavg-1 ldavg-5 ldavg-15 fault/s majflt/s cswch/s

# End of Example 1 rules file.

We get the results from sardb and rules1 using vxperf2.pl from the command-line or vxperf2 module (parseLogFile and applyRules subroutines) inside a Perl script. In the results directory, a summary.txt (name hardcoded) is created that contains one line each for %usr, %sys, ldavg-1, ldavg-5, ldavg-15, fault/s, majflt/s and cswch/s reporting their functions (currently min, max, sum, count and average).

Example 2

I glossed over one aspect of the CPU utilization summary in the previous example, which is that -A option gave per-processor statistics as well as an "all", and we went ahead with clubbing them together. It isn't exactly a mistake in this case, but suppose we do want to separate the per-processor statistics. Our rules file would be something like:

# rules2: Rules file for Example 2.

y-axis: %usr %sys ldavg-1 ldavg-5 ldavg-15 fault/s majflt/s cswch/s

z-axis: CPU

# End of Example 2 rules file.

There can be only one z-axis rule, and only one field for it. vxperf2 takes the field following the z-axis keyword, and divides the CPU utilization table into sub-tables, one for each distinct value of "CPU". Along with all the lines of the previous summary.txt, the new file will now contain a few additional lines each for %usr and %sys, lines corresponding to the processors and "all".

Example 3

Suppose we want a couple of graphs, one for CPU utilization and one for load averages. Our rules file would be something like:

# rules3: Rules file for Example 3.

y-axis: %usr %sys ldavg-1 ldavg-5 ldavg-15 fault/s majflt/s cswch/s

z-axis: CPU

plot: %usr %sys

plot: ldavg-1 ldavg-5 ldavg-15

# End of Example 3 rules file.

vxperf2 takes the fields following the plot keyword on one line and plots them using Gnuplot, naming it $field1-$field2-...-$fieldn.png. As many images as there are plot keywords in the rules file are created. The CPU utilization image will have per-processor and "all" plots because of the z-axis keyword. In this particular case, however, the second image will be empty as there are no per-processor load averages. (Instead, dropping the z-axis keyword will allow plotting of load averages. A limitation.)

Example 4

In the %usr-%sys.png created in the above examples, there are per-processor %usr plots and one "all", and similarly for %sys plots. What if we are interested in timelines of only a few of the processors, or not interested in "all"? A similar question of more significance would be when looking into block device or process-level statistics. Our rules file would be something like:

# rules4: Rules file for Example 4.

y-axis: %usr %sys ldavg-1 ldavg-5 ldavg-15 fault/s majflt/s cswch/s

z-axis: CPU

plot: %usr %sys

only: 0 all

# End of Example 4 rules file.

There can be only one only rule, and it makes sense only in the presence of a z-axis rule (z-axis has a field name and its corresponding values are a superset of only). vxperf2 this time only plots %usr and %sys corresponding to processor 0 and "all", though it summarizes for other values of CPU as well.

Example 5

It is common to start logging a few intervals before the period of interest, and to end logging a few intervals after. Suppose we want to ignore the first 10 intervals, and then we are only interested in the next 100 intervals. Our rules file would be something like:

# rules5: Rules file for Example 5.

y-axis: %usr %sys ldavg-1 ldavg-5 ldavg-15 fault/s majflt/s cswch/s

z-axis: CPU

plot: %usr %sys

only: 0 all

offset: 10

points: 100

# End of Example 5 rules file.

vxperf2 does what it did exactly in the previous example, except that it does it over a subset starting at the 11th reading and ending at the 110th.

Simple enough?

I mentioned a couple of limitations above and there are many others, most of which I discover only when using vxperf2, and there are often workarounds to these. vxperf2 module exposes two subroutines parseLogFile and applyRules. parseLogFile parses a text database and stores it as an in-memory database. applyRules parses a rules file and applies the rules to multiple databases at once. One parseLogFile invocation per log file, followed by one applyRules invocation per rules file.

Use vxperf2 to Analyze Text Databases

2011-05-30T23:00:00.002+05:30

1st July, 2011: GitHub is the new home of vxperf2. Download vxperf2.

In my job I daily have to deal with many different kinds of logs, mostly generated by OS monitoring utilities, and I never found a single tool that summarizes and visualizes data from all those logs. e.g. Spreadsheets are great for typeperf logs on Windows, ksar for sar logs on Linux, and Esxplot for esxtop logs on ESX. But I don't know of one tool that works well for all of them.

I initially wrote a Shell-based tool called plotmon to extract, summarize, and visualize fields (using Gnuplot) of specific interest from a few particular logs (mainly pidstat, sar, top). I then ported it to Perl for better performance. Its drawback was that it handled each log on a case-by-case basis. As the number of OSs (ESX, RHEL, Solaris, Windows), the number of OS monitoring utilties (esxtop, iostat, mpstat, netstat, pidstat, prstat, sar, typeperf, vmstat), and fields of interest that I occasionally had to come across increased, naive plotmon was no longer viable. So I discarded it and picked vxperf2.

vxperf2 is a Perl-based tool that I wrote, maintain, and use a lot for "analyzing" logs. vxperf2 can process any log as long as it is a text database. (Text database: Imagine an SQL database with several different tables in it. For each of the tables, fire "select * from ", and redirect all output to a single text file. That text file is a text database.)

While even Unix top output on the same OS differ in their formats when using two different toprcs, they and all other logs generated by all OS monitoring utilities (et al) can be trivially modified into text databases through minor changes (mostly reformatting). So the way to process any log is through two steps: first modify the log into a text database (simple though log-specific formatting: log2db) and then use vxperf2 on the text database.

vxperf2 takes a rules file containing six keywords: y-axis, z-axis, plot, only, offset, points. y-axis is about the fields of interest (columns of a table) that are to be summarized, z-axis is the field each of whose values has a different meaning (e.g. PID), plot is about the list of fields that are to be plotted together (against timeline), only is about the z-axis values at which previously specified plots are to be plotted, offset is about the number of readings from the beginning that are to be ignored, points is about the number of readings from the offset that are to be considered. If you read the documentation and try to use the tool you'll get a fair idea of the need for these keywords and the flexibility they provide. You will see that vxperf2 can summarize (basic functions count, max, min, sum, avg), visualize (plot), navigate (skip data points), zoom in (consider a subset of data points) and compare (within and across logs) any specified subset of fields of interest. You can also check out the "examples" directory in the tarball for examples of logs, their equivalent text databases, and rules files.

I've been using this tool heavily for most of my work involving log analysis, and so are a few others in my group. Symantec Corporation gave me the permission to release it as open source almost four months ago. The idea of getting it through CPAN or creating a repository on Github has been putting me off since then. I guess this is a place as good as any to start sharing vxperf2 with the outside world. I'm releasing this under GNU GPL today. The tarball contains no malware, and one 14-word README file that should get you started. Ask me if you have any doubts.

My knowledge of Perl is amateurish at best, and this project was one of the major ways in which I learnt some basics, especially two-dimensional data structures in Perl. (vxperf2 uses an array of arrays, an array of hashes, a hash of arrays, and a hash of hashes.) There are bound to be a bunch of bugs, so don't hesitate to holler. On the other hand, development of new features (each keyword, e.g.) has been entirely driven by my immediate needs, so your wishes may not necessaribly be granted immediately (by me).

More Equal

2010-06-27T08:00:00.002+05:30

On one afternoon seven years ago I heard a girl review George Orwell's Animal Farm. It was during a college course attended by students trying to outdo each other through the books they had read and digested. I was yet to outgrow my suspicions on anybody who read books, academic or otherwise. During the Q&A slide one of the smart guys asked the girl what Orwell meant when he ended the novel with, "All men are equal. Some are more equal than the others." I didn't know. She didn't seem to know. I wonder whether he knew. The professor didn't explain. That or more probably I wasn't paying attention. And Orwell himself was conveniently dead.

A few years later I read the book. I still didn't know what Orwell meant, but I held on to that line. I may have even quoted it during intellectual conversations centered around exchanging trivia, the way we quote famous movie dialgoues without fully knowing which movie they come from and why. But it was more than a showpiece to me, occasionally confusing my mind when I willed to think about it. What could have Orwell, whose books and essays have a divine clarity, possibly be implying? What would have Koteshwara Rao sir thought of an impossible expression like "more equal"?

While reading another of Orwell's essays yesterday, it struck me. Animal Farm starts with an uprising, much like a proletariat overpowering a bourgeois. And it ends with a totalitarian regime, much like what appears to eventually happen in non-capitalist governments. Orwell wrote about totalitarian regimes that evolved from socialist ideals, which at their core spring from a desire to achieve (attribute) absolute equality among all subjects. The impossibility of such equality (impossibility of its success) is aptly implied using the impossible expression "more equal", as is the implication that such societies would subsequently tilt (undesirably).

When I read that the animals stood for proletariat, I missed the double-significance of there being different species. That different species stand for different capabilities (jobs) amongst people is easily seen. But they also contain a reverse implication that people are as different as different species, and thus they can't possibly become equal regardless of their temporary illusions.

Spreading Joy Through Reading

2010-04-14T20:00:00.000+05:30

Cross-posted on Cine Cynic. Updated with information about modes of donation and contacts.

Akshar Bharati is an NGO with a beautiful aim: opening libraries for under-privileged children. Since its inception 3 years ago it has opened nearly 200 libraries across 6 states. That is a great achievement for an organization in which there is only one full-time activist and rest are all volunteers. As an awarness and fund raising campaign, it is organizing a musical night by Avdhoot Gupte on 18th April, 2010 at VIT College, Pune.

If you see the irony in a book-centric organization holding a music-centric event you should realize that we adults want very little to do with books ourselves though we want children to read more. Imagine a joyless event like a three-hour-long public book-reading session and you will agree that we are more likely to want to be paid in such a scenario, not the other way round.

As an occasional volunteer, it is imperative that I implore you to buy donation passes (worth 300, 500 and 1000 INR) or give donations or sign up as volunteers. Those are all inclusive ors. Interested folks can call me if you have my number, contact me (cinecynic AT gmail DOT com), or post a comment below. All donations come under Income Tax, 80G exemption and are eligible for programs like matching grants in several corporations.

Spread the word about spreading joy through reading.

UPDATE

Donations: The online payment gateway system is not yet on because Akshar Bharati is still waiting for the government approval. Donations of all amounts are accepted in the form of cheques (pay "Sewa International"). Library adoption costs: primary (10000 INR), secondary (12000 INR), complete library (22000 INR).

Office: Akshar Bharati, Sewa Sahayog, Flat #7, Shreya Apartment, Near Swanand Hospital, Deep Bungalow Chowk, Shivajinagar, Pune - 411016.

Contact: Kailas Narawade (+91-9604533919), info AT aksharbharati DOT org.

Juta Churai

2010-03-18T20:00:00.002+05:30

I attended an inter-regional wedding a few months ago. Towards the end of the ceremony the siblings of the North Indian bride stole the shoes of the South Indian groom. I was told that this is a mandatory event in many North Indian weddings. I found out later that this is also prevalent in South India and only I have managed to stay away from it.

This is how the event is supposed to transpire: The fellows steal the groom's shoes. The groom is to leave the place only after somehow -- reason, beg, buy, steal -- winning back the shoes from the fellows. He can't reason because the fellows are unreasonable. He can't beg because the fellows are stony. He can't buy because the fellows only want more money than the national debt of the USA. (He won't buy because he doesn't have such a shoe fetish.) He can't leave barefoot because the fellows won't allow the bride to accompany him, because though they absolutely do not mind marrying off their sister to a man without shoes they do mind letting her live with him. He can't leave behind the shoes and the bride because his parents need them for another event at another place in the near future.

To put it mildly, the groom is in quite a pickle. To exaggerate, he is living his worst nightmare. He is already fatigued and irritated by the fire and the incomprehensible rituals, is expectant and expected to play the Bollywood hero sans stunts. His family, having recently decided that he is capable of setting up his own family, is now relentlessly looking to put together a solution (and some quick cash) for the apple of their eye. The fellows are having fun at his cost, ragging him not inside a locked room but on a dais of a filled community hall.

The event that night was one of the best examples of the irony of humor I have ever witnessed. All participants and spectators, I believe, derived a different level of fun (and anxiety, for that matter) from it based on their background (cultural, regional, religious), tolerance, familiarity with the practice, and closeness to one of the two parties. As an observer with nothing to lose I was thoroughly entertained. I hoped for everyone's sake that the groom wouldn't break down, and was also curious to see him break. When the fellows finally got bored and relented, and asked the groom whether he doesn't already feel like having gotten closer to the new wing of the extended family, I was disappointed. What until then appeared to be gallant stupidity suddenly became rehearsed wisdom. It was an anti-climax. Could it have ended in any other way?

I later came to know that this event is perceived as a symbolic way of bringing closer the families taking part in the wedding, as a way of opening debate between them for future necessities. Even amateur poets writing to meter no longer buy such symbolisms, and I find it irrelevant for today's cross-geo nuclear families. This may be a vestige of the ancient practice of kanyASulkam. And therein might lie a solution of getting out of it, while stressing once again that getting into it seems more artificial than implants.

The groom could shame the fellows about objectifying and appraising a woman, though it wouldn't work if the fellows are shameless. The groom's family could stand by a principle (of taking dowry) and threaten to cancel the wedding for asking their side to pay for something, though it would end badly if the fellows report it to the Police. Someone could cry like a baby until the outcome becomes favorable, though it would appear tragic to most. Interestingly, all of these and any other could be pushed any farther and then called off as humor. It might work based on the very basis of the different perceptions of humor. One side is euphoric; the other is dysphoric.

Inexplicably, this silly ritual has been creeping into my mind whenever I hear about a wedding. Now, I hope that it rests.

The MBTI Exercise

2010-01-21T20:00:00.005+05:30

I recently received my second MBTI assessment, which is in line and in greater depth than my first. This time it was a company initiative. Apparently, psychometric tests are all the rage in the corporate world today, and the mother-daughter test has its obvious glamor (say, when compared to The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory, which has a very unglamorous name). I think this initiative has its uses. One, it makes employees feel good about themselves. Two, it is a substantial exercise that gives them to talk about for a while. And three, it subtly implores them towards greater self-awareness.

Feeling Good
The MBTI interpretive reports and the introductory books read a bit like the Linda Goodman best-sellers, especially like those pages which people tend to bookmark, underline and reread. No wonder that Isabel Briggs Myers was herself a novelist. Here is a list of (category, word) ordered pairs to illustrate my point: (Extraversion, Initiating), (Introversion, Reflective), (Sensing, Realistic), (Intuitive, Original), (Thinking, Analytical), (Feeling, Tender), (Judging, Systematic), (Perceiving, Emergent). Wouldn't you feel good if you belonged to even one of these? It is a pity that they don't include the names of celebrities who fall under each category, and that is possibly because determining a person's MBTI Step I type is not as easy as determining the zodiac sign from one's DOB.

Small Talk
The MBTI can make good conversation in group meetings while sounding fashionable and intellectual than the weather, at least for as long as people can remember their superficial meanings. I am skeptical about its application to a group, using averages and standard deviations, though. And about its application at an individual level, considering the complexity of its interpretation.

Awareness
Be it interpreting the ambiguity of a movie or a book, or interpreting dreams (despite abandoning that impossible book by Freud in its third chapter), or interpreting MBTI itself, I am tempted to attempt interpretations. Note: I have not done any courses in psychology, and am in no way certified to interpret the psyche much less the MBTI reports.

Over the years I have read quite a bit about MBTI, about its history and its characterisations. It attempts to attribute a type, which supposedly will be the most common pattern found (preferred, if you will) in a person's behavior were you to observe him or her continuously. The type is a combination of the most dominant result in each of four dichotomies: Extravert Vs Introvert, Sensing Vs iNtuitive, Thinking Vs Feeling, Judging Vs Perceiving.

1. Carl Jung, being Swiss, chose and popularized the German version "extravert", but its meaning may be identical to that of "extrovert". I am not sure if psychology attributes any further requirements to the word.
2. Dichotomies, mathematically speaking, are mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive. In the MBTI types, I don't think they really are dichotomies owing to the duality of mind. Those are just convenient enough to be put together on a single line and also on opposite sides. These "opposite" characteristics are known to be found in the same person, and the functional characteristics in particular can be found simultaneously.
3. As if the usual psychobabble isn't enough to make one's head spin, ambiguity arises from the choice of names for these dichotomies, with added confusion from our day-to-day interpretation of some of these words. Extravert isn't talkative, introvert isn't shy, feeling isn't emotional, judging isn't judgmental, perceiving isn't perceptive. Especially not in MBTI.
4. EI, SN, TF and JP represent four different spheres respectively -- how one gets energy (attitude), how one takes information (function), how one makes decisions (function), and how one deals with the outer world (lifestyle). The interpretation of each of these eight characteristics is confined to the sphere to which they belong.
5. The order of the letters in a type is misleading. The two functions (second and third letters) are not dominant and auxiliary respectively. Contrary to popular usage, the type is better interpreted not using the four letters but using the four words. e.g. Introverted Thinking with Extraverted Sensing is a better interpretation than ISTP, and Extraverted Thinking with Introverted Intuition is a better interpretation than ENTJ (even though one is missing the lifestyle part).
6. The dominant, auxiliary, tertiary and inferior functions again are not to be interpreted as the best, next, third and least functions. I am not sure about the tertiary and the inferior ones, but the dominant and the auxiliary functions have specific roles. While the dominant function is used primarily in the Jungian attitude of choice (introvert or extravert), the auxiliary function is used primarily in the opposite attitude.

Before beginning this exercise I thought that dropping the "Vs" from our minds can be more useful in remembering the fluidity of a personality. Now, I am not sure that will suffice. One needs to be extremely careful, which one can never be, in interpreting these types and detailed reports, and even then take them with a pinch of salt while pigeonholing a person. (I haven't even mentioned the degree or development of a type in these categories.) Tests like the MBTI are however useful in pushing one towards greater self-awareness, that which is taken up independently regardless of the interpretations.

Not to undermine them, but even the best of shrinks cannot tell everything about you, thanks to the mysteries held in a fistful of human tissue. This is a good thing, or their academic counterparts would suffer a dearth in their grants.

Have You Met Cine Cynic?

2010-01-02T20:00:00.003+05:30

Nearly two years ago I started an anonymous blog mostly to review films and criticize the Indian film industries. Having acquired a taste for serious movies be they mainstream or parallel, Hollywood or foreign, I was then audacious enough to give it a tagline "Waking up Indian filmmakers" and pontificate from a short pedestal. I pretended to be knowledgeable about various aspects of filmmaking and the posts had me amateurishly venting out about today's hit movies in general.

Shortly after, I met mediocre writing success in the form of tech-blogging. I made a few dollars writing small posts for a couple of tech blogs not owned by me, and decided to go pro. I bought a domain name, rented hosting service, and thus was born Cine Cynic.

Setting up a website from scratch, using Wordpress software, tweaking the PHP templates and the widgets was an interesting experience. I am not looking forward to doing it again. In order to not look cheap while monetizing I went for Amazon ads instead of the Google ones. It does look neater but I won't recommend this. I made more from the Google ads on the blog that you are now reading than I made using Amazon ads on the other one.

I continued blogging on that site infrequently, reviewing movies and books and criticizing Indian media, and towards the latter part of this year mostly transcribed song lyrics. My lethargy was also supported by a discontent about the content of the majority of my posts. I was mostly writing "posts", a habit which I attribute to my tech-blogging days, and they were generic tirades hardly analytical.

In this new year I don't want to write posts anymore. Such posts which offer little more than a well-known fact or a personal opinion are a waste of everyone's time. I wish to upgrade to essays with rationality getting a little more weightage and emotion a little less. Take a peek.

Break It Like AP

2009-12-29T20:00:00.001+05:30

The morning of Christmas. It was a day after crores volunteered to stay at home glued to their TVs watching in awe the hundreds of heroic students, with apparently the right mixture of guiding rowdy sheeters, displaying the power of students and the prowess of youth and the chilling desire of the new generation for freedom and development, through a thorough and detached destruction of public and private property alike. They had already begun feeling victorious and experienced having burnt hundreds of buses and crores worth film sets, having stoned malls and many shops, having patiently asked passing civilians to step out and then tore apart their cars. They always knew that their leaders could get their examinations postponed and annulled and they cannot be blamed for believing that the government and banks and insurance companies will take care of the collateral damage.

Most of us will not forget the generosity of the samaritans for calling off their bandhs on Christmas eve despite the caustic fire in their bellies. Divined with omen, we all thankful souls rushed to the roads not to let go of this opportunity, to get some extra cash from the ATMs, to stock all essential grocery items, and to fill our vehicles with fuel.

I was waiting in a long queue at a fuel station. The fuel station was modestly secured by policemen to the best of their capability. The IG (Vigilance) A R Anuradha had earlier said that while they are doing their best to maintain law and order, they keep away from places like railway stations (the stations where rail rokos happen) because there are too many rocks in such areas. Fuel stations being inflammable are equally difficult to manage, I guess.

It was a double queue, the evolution and servicing models of which I will spare you. Adjacent to our car was a shiny black Maruti Alto Lxi with two men in the front and a woman and a toddler in the back. The dark handsome man sitting at the driver's seat rolled down his window and whistled at the man servicing the two queues, and when he came nearer said, "అన్న, ఈ లైనె కరెక్ట్ గ ఉన్నది. ఇలానే పోనీ. వేరేవాళ్ళెల్తే అద్దాలు పలుగుతై." (Brother, this line is correct. Let those in this line go. If others go, glasses will break.") He then gave us his best smile and rolled up the window. He was wearing a black tee-shirt and black sun glasses and had every look of an aging youth hero.

That dialogue, that cool claim that "glasses will break", chillingly captured the campaign in a single sentence for me. Let there be what I want, or be ready to face dire consequences!

That is the confidence of an ardent pro-democrat who has realized his all-important rights. That for his rights he is not only willing but ready to destroy anyone else's. No wonder we hear about studies which predict that India will be the greatest superpower of the world. With such aggression, that day is not distant.

But I am strangely reminded of a cabinet minister bemoaning the lack of Nobel prize winners from this country. Yes, it truly is inexplicable.

Come to think about it, the leaders expertly manoeuvring their respective fronts deserve the Peace prize. The writers eagerly penning new state songs deserve the Literature prize. The student leaders deserve the Economics prize for promoting the marvelous idea of destroying public property so that new employment opportunities can be created through destroying, repairing and recreating the same things iteratively without the need for new industries. That this iterative process is a natural cure for the boredom of TV viewers and reality show participants alike and thus a great bonus to the National Happiness Index is a finding deserving the Physiology or Medicine prize. I am sure we can find something appropriate for the Physics and Chemistry prizes as well. A clean sweep.

In a country with one-sixth of the world's population, where people are known for their unusually high aptitudes compared to developed nations in the West, that there are hardly any Nobel prize winners is unfathomable. It is possibly a conspiracy of the Swedish, and may be our benevolent souls should also give a thought about expressing their democratic rights in Stockholm, may be picket in front of the Stockholm Concert Hall and the Stockholm City Hall. Or am I still behaving in a naïve materialistic manner?

Defending Piracy

2009-12-11T18:00:00.001+05:30

India is a hotbed for pirated songs, movies, books and software. I was one of the consumers as a student. These were my primary sources of entertainment and as a student I could have afforded only a few of them. I promised myself that I would pay for all of them in the future -- even the ones that I didn't like -- and I intend to keep fulfilling that promise. I am glad to have read and watched all those wonderful books and movies, though I wasn't happy with the means. Especially as my desire to become a writer intensified, I realized more than anything else the justness in people being paid for their work.

I happily changed after college. Today I feel proud that I buy software and donate to freeware, though there is nothing in it to feel proud of. Until recently I used to download one drama and one sitcom, on the pretext of the fight against geographical segregation of the world wide web, and legally obtain everything else. I feel strong enough to support the cause while giving up the pretext, to stop downloading even that one drama and one sitcom. Will I then become completely free from pirated material? Possibly not, as pointed by a few individuals who question the ambiguity of today's copyright laws. But I will be, to the extent that I can unambiguously identify. I will do that.

The self-induced change in me unburdened my conscience, allowing other things to cloud it. I even take partial credit in the partial transformation of a few friends. Every now and then I still face individuals who heavily consume pirated material and vehemently defend themselves. Until now I have mostly avoided arguing with them, though I know that I am not on the wrong side, though I know that they are sensible adults who can be argued with. But even this peace-mongering throws a heaviness on my conscience like that of a dead chicken that I witness being devoured.

Some say that they only freely obtain pirated material, not pay for it, and that in this way they are not supporting the piracy industry. I don't see myself as a crusader against piracy, nor are most people who avoid pirated material. I am only a sincere supporter of the original producers of material. It is like getting a salary at the end of a month. Doesn't everyone who has a job deserve that?

Some say that Indians are poor people. I know that many are. But the ones who have access to state-of-the-art laptops and high-speed internet are not poor, not that way. I have seen people stealing electricity and cable, and they were not poor, not so poor to pay for that electricity and cable. There are more poor people who live with what they have than are those who steal what they want. I think.

Some say that such awful commercial shit is not worth paying for, and that they do pay for and watch sensible movies. You don't hire a person who is utterly useless for that job requirement and refuse to pay. Even people who get hired and then fired get paid at the time of termination.

Some say that whether or not one can use pirated material comes down to the individual. Just like whether or not it is okay to steal?

Some say that the situation is already so bad that the change they could possibly bring is like a drop in an ocean. The argument that many urban Indians use for not voting. It disappoints me to see such group mentality, but then, yes, we are only human and the large masses, urban or rural, rich or poor, cannot escape it.

There are several other things that people say. But Atticus Finch told Scout, "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around it." (I first read Harper Lee's To Kill a Mocking Bird as a pirated e-book. I later bought one and gifted another.) For people who themselves hold a job, understanding the producer of a song or movie or book or software is easier than commuting to their offices daily. I understand the ease but not the desire to accessing pirated material, especially by those who own home theatres and subscribe to Tata Sky+.

Traveling With a Soldier

2009-10-23T10:00:00.002+05:30

On a recent train journey I sat beside a smiling man with a boyish face. I ignored him the way I ignore every other co-passenger. This time I read Laura Lippman's Baltimore Blues while he asked me questions like "Where are you getting down?", "What time will this train reach that station?", "What do you do?". To not come across as overly rude I too asked him what he did.

Army.

He spoke only in Hindi. Apart from being a bad listener, my aptitude for Hindi is governed by Bala Bharati Bhaag II/III. He didn't seem to mind and did most of the talking even though I was restricted to listening, nodding, and replying in staccato yeses, noes and sorrys.

He is the only child of a family that lives on farming. Few people know that kirana and general stores are the best places to get applications for Amry recruitment. Five years ago he was recruited into the Army during the second year of his Intermediate. After one year of training he has been posted all over the map from Rajasthan to Delhi to Hyderabad to Chennai. It is common for them to be rotated across units all over the country. That's alright. They have good facilities and food in all the units.

His unit, wherever it may be, is his home now. They have a total of 3 months holidays annually in the form of CLs and ALs, but several of them are taken away for some special duty or the other. That's alright. For each of these days, their pay is doubled and added to their PF accounts. It is good money. Senior hawaldaars make up to 25000INR as salary.

He hasn't seen his parents this whole year, and when he decided to go now his superior wanted him to instead go on an assignment of some ammunition transport. He strongly resisted, talked to the unit commanding officer, and was finally allowed to take lave. Before anybody changed their minds, he immediately reached the railway station without luggage, bought a ticket for the first available train, and got into it. He did not even buy sweets for the family and the kids in the neighborhood. That's alright. He will buy some sweets after reaching there.

His family now never knows in advance when he is returning home. His dad will joke that he is returning only after they have made the harvest, Soya this year, after all the hard work has been done. For one month, he will eat his mom's food and sleep. He will play in the fields, but five years of continuously wearing shoes made his feet extremely delicate and now a tiniest twig can cut them. He will first have to wear slippers and harden the feet. Throughout the vacation he will keep his mobile switched off, as there are some duties which can't be declined. If the unit calls home, his parents will tell them that he is sick. He will miss his girl friend. That's alright.

There is one other friend who joined CRPF when he joined Army. With their haphazard vacations, they rarely get to meet now. There was one other friend from Chennai, a driver in Army. Once in the Valley, where there are narrow roads which are wide enough for only a single jeep, that friend along with another person accidentally plunged into the Valley, into a river which takes everything into Pakistan.

They have these huge vehicles in Army which burn like five litres of Diesel per kilometre. Some drivers steal Diesel and make a lot of money. Everybody knows but nobody says anything about it. Why would they when their superior officer doesn't? They don't ask questions in Army.

Sometimes they get orders to fire 300 shells. They don't know why. Each Bofors shell costs more than a lakh rupees. 300 shells in a day! That's a lot of noise despite the special earplugs they wear. And they have to run. Today it takes fifteen minutes for a precise reply in the form of another shell to come across the border. In these fifteen minutes they have to run, set up the gun again, and be ready to fire. It is not fun. He was there. South is safer.

Almost everybody who survives stays for at least fifteen years. No one can quit Army easily. Those back home might whisper that he chickened out. More than that, he feels good serving the country, having a purpose in life.

He looked content.

He didn't avail the defence quota because he was in a rush. So when it was time to sleep I suggested him to sleep on the floor laying a few newspapers on it. He woke up by 0430 hrs the next morning. Before getting down I told him to enjoy his vacation and to be safe. He smiled and wished my family the best.

Dreamz Unlimited 49: Building a Society

2009-10-06T20:00:00.002+05:30

Two nights ago while I deliberated on another invective against the motherland I stumbled upon the idea of an apartment building (or society, as it is more appropriately called in some cities) as a microcosm of the nation. The comparison seemed too beautiful to take seriously and too simple to ignore. Ever since, my mind has been in an overdrive drawing parallels between various, ahem, objects and methods of the apartment building with those of the nation. I looked from the angle of anthropology, speculating on how homo sapiens may have come to live in groups. I tried to scale up the apartment building from a duplex towards a township, adding various features that would be necessary to make it smoothly functional, self-sufficient, and with an improved performance (luxury). I felt that I was proceeding in the right direction, and then let it go hoping to stumble upon an essay by some sociologist.

But my mind seemed to have context switched to a similar more hands-on exercise in my sleep last night.

In one of the most interesting dreams I have had in a while, I argued with Sonia Gandhi about the above theory. The argument, I think, took place off the screen. With one menacing spell Sonia broke the land under my feet like the Shaman in the game Populous: The Beginning and left, the distance between us growing. I and Trinath were now on a cold large mountainous island that reminded me of Vizag for some reason. I knew that there were several other inhabitants on the island.

Our challenge was to survive, thrive, and show profits within a set time period. I began considering frozen foods as a possibly lucrative business though I must have meant cold storages, what with the chillingly low temperature of the island. We first decided to start with cooking dinner. We had a small furnished cottage. Its kitchen had two stoves. Trinath prepared something for the two of us and we dined heartily, confident that we had enough time to do what we were supposed to.

The next morning (in the dream) we found a large number of saplings on the adjacent land, all of which seemed to have been planted by different individuals. Looking at that haphazard plantation we realized that people were not capable alike. We decided to start with census, and also collect information about people's interests and capabilities during the study. My mind then rewrote that bit and so we decided to advertise for individuals who would help us in censusing while we could think deeper on administration planning and avenues for revenue. Large posters were pasted on the walls of a few abondoned buildings around.

I can't remember further and I don't want to venture into the possibilities because that seems like material for a novel. My attempt here is to document it, just in case I wish to revisit.

The list of things that could have triggered various aspects of the dream: the theory itself, growing intolerance for the government, growing respect for capitalism, recent thoughts about buying Railroad Tycoon, brief discussion with Trinath about this issue, Trinath cooking more frequently, a short story I recently read where a father gifts Robinson Crusoe to his daughter, regular thoughts about Thoreau.

The Country Club

2009-10-04T20:00:00.002+05:30

The last time I distinctly remember feeling patriotic was as a kid after watching JP Dutta's Border for the first time. After the movie ended with the jingoistic jig "Hindustan, Hindustan" I jumped on my bed like a zombie. Too excited to sleep, I stared in the darkness of night feeling that India has the most beautiful cartographic image in the world and that the Indian soldiers at the border must be great fearless and patriotic warriors as those in the movie. During the Kargil war I used to tally the number of wounded and dead Indian soldiers against those on the Pakistani side. I watched a lot of movies in the muddled up category of "patriotism and national integration" as a child.

As I grew up, learning more about myself with each passing year, I realized that I could feel patriotic only when I forcibly pumped that feeling into myself. Since then I have occasionally felt an itch of guilt for what I have become and learnt to live with it. The first time after I left college, took a job, lived independently, paid taxes and donated for charity my itch started to recede and instead has been being replaced with a growing sense of disillusionment and despair.

I am not very different from the billion other people who desire to live on their own and strive for their livelihood and dreams, people who work for themselves, their families and if possible for their communities. I feel optimistic about the opportunities available to the youth, I am inspired by the creativity and capabilities of many of those, and am amused by their naiveté in forwarding to each other Manmohan Singh's résumé or Abdul Kalam's speech about how India really is a developed country and not just a developing one. The latter amusement has in fact shifted from pride to realization and now vacillates between pity and condescension.

I don't particularly like nor respect India as a country. It is very unlike the developed countries that many of my generation truly envy. It appraises property in crores and human lives in lakhs. Nor is it like the war-torn developing countries that not only struggle for survival but also rebuild themselves with alacrity. It takes decades to construct projects, pays its voters hooch money before elections, and confuses fighting terrorism with curbing citizens' rights. Its few achievements are usually those of individuals from whom they have duly been nationalized, and when it does make to the top of a global economic or demographic index in a positive manner it is mostly because of its colossal population. It is at best the largest dysfunctional democracy and in fact the largest mobocracy in the world.

To the critic who questions what I do to change the situation: Bless the man who shot the guy who had said, "Ask not what the country did for you but what you did for the country." The country, whatever it means, is not my ruler and I am not a slave. We have a symbiotic relationship not very dissimilar from the relationship between an apartment building and its residents. The residents pay for the maintenance and a few other funds in exchange for a host of benefits. The residents should not default on their payments and the apartment building (through its elected association) should not fail to provide those benefits. The resident who is unhappy with the functioning of the association complains, and if things don't improve leaves to another apartment building.

I Witnessed

2009-09-18T21:00:00.001+05:30

a crime. An hour ago.

I walked out of my office debating within whether I should pass another forty-five minutes there for a free dinner. I walked past the few auto wallahs who won't go anywhere and a few others who would if paid twice, and walked towards the nearest bus-stop. Without paying attention to his friend, a man ran behind a bus that I had missed. He stopped near a shorter man, placed one arm around his shoulder and together they walked back.

We have the man, his friend, and the short man, all apparently blue-collar.

As they came closer, I noticed the man tightly holding the short man by the collar and the short man, with a plastic cover in his right hand, walked along without protesting. I thought that they all must know each other, that the short man must have stolen/taken something, perhaps that cover, from the man and his friend. Surprisingly none of the three was barely audible even as they passed me.

The three went down a rocky slope and I thought that they may be walking towards a larger party of interest. It was dark, few streetlights, even though it was only metres away from a bus-stop, and I didn't get a clear view. Suddenly the man and his friend surrounded the short man and started beating him up. My reflex told me to flee.

I started calling them but they wouldn't stop. I was too cowardly to go down the rocky slope and warn them or stop them physically if required. There was nobody else in the bus-stop so I called a couple of other men who were passing by and told them that a couple of guys were beating up another guy. One of them walked along his way unhurriedly and the other stayed back looking here and there.

In a minute the man and his friend started kicking violently. I still couldn't see the short man, who was neither crying aloud for help nor in pain. I reluctantly tried to get closer and fortunately someone else approached from another direction. (He perhaps works in the nearby bank located below the slope.) Glad to have some concerned company, I started down the rocky slope and the man and his friend ran away in the opposite direction, away from the road into the bushes. I didn't try to catch them, didn't run behind them.

I saw the victim lying on the ground, his cover and his cap thrown a few paces away. I looked around for signs of blood and only saw that he was missing his right arm below the elbow. Did he lose it now? Was he like this when I first saw him? I couldn't recall and I looked around for the piece. I went closer and asked him loudly whether he was hurt, whether he would like to go to a hospital. He slowly bent his leg, still lying there, and I was relieved that he was alive.

I pulled out my cell-phone but couldn't decide whom to call. I couldn't recollect any ambulance numbers in my phone book and didn't want to call the control room. I told the fellow still standing near the bus-stop to call an auto. He turned towards the road looking for an auto and turned back to the scene of crime. In the meantime my concerned counterpart, a louder middle-aged man, walked to the victim and asked him who those two-three men were and why they beat him. I corrected him that it was two and once again told the fellow standing near the bus-stop to call an auto. The victim slowly moved his feet a little more and then brought out the right arm that had been underneath his head. I couldn't see it before in the darkness and now think that he may have tried to protect his head with it.

The middle-aged man asked me who I was. I was afraid that he may be blaming me to be an acquaintance of those two brutes, blaming me to be an acquaintance of the victim or blaming me for not acting like the young man I am. Another man, perhaps an assistant of the middle-aged man, came closer to us while a woman stood near the side-gate of that bank. I once again told the fellow near the bus-stop to call an auto. The middle-aged man shouted at the victim to pick up his cover and cap and get up. As he tried to, I asked the victim whether he could walk, and the middle-aged man's assistant recognized the victim as an acquaintance and helped him stand. The victim asked me if I had a vehicle. I didn't. The middle-aged man then shouted at the assistant to bring the victim along and so they went on their way towards that bank.

I stood there cursing myself and then climbed up the slope. "They would have killed him had we not been here," the fellow near the bus-stand said. We were there, I was there, and they still beat him. We did nothing, I did nothing.

Cybercafé Thanks to Indian Railways

2009-04-30T22:56:00.002+05:30

It must have been at least two years since I visited a cybercafé.

Tonight, I was to board a special train to Hyderabad from Pune. Procuring a ticket was an adventure in itself. I am sure you have better things to do than read about an idle dork's tales about buying tickets through a travel agent with connections. The climax: I ended up buying my first ever AC II Tier ticket. You all know how good this could be. Instead of squeezing yourself between thirteen sweating men in a cabin with eight or nine berths, you could sit in a spacious cabin with six berths spouting about the sins of politicians with six skinny sweeties (five plus their friend). They don't know that you haven't voted.

Yeah, about that. It didn't turn out that way. After all, it is I and not you in this situation. Even if it were you, cross your hearts and tell me, would six girls have ever listened to you?

My train got delayed by three and half hours. To 0140hrs of tomorrow. I couldn't go back to my apartment because transport at that hour is impossible, unless you counted my roomie dropping me on a friend's bike, which thanks to Pune roads would make you a stupid again. So I decided to spend my time in the railway station.

First, law. I bought a platform ticket. I had to spend twenty-two rupees to get three rupees change and then dropped it in a platform ticket machine, which is another first for me. While sitting on the pavement outside the station -- breeze there -- I saw this "24 HOURS Broadband Internet Cafe".

So here I am. After presenting an ID proof.

Being the careful and conscientious guy I am, I cleaned up the cookies, history, and cache in the browser. Yeah, they still use IE6 but also Quick Heal, a well-known anti-virus product in. No, I didn't check out the address bar for previous addresses, the search strings in Google, nor the usernames in Gmail. Would have been great fun. On top of it, the previous person had used Windows Messenger with a status message "L'amour est le sens de la vie , que c'est beau si cet amour est accorde au Createur" and left without logging out. You're welcome, dude, I won't reveal your username but promise me that you won't forget logging out next time.

Then I heard a woman come in and ask the guy sitting in front of me for five minutes of his computer time. Time is money, so he declined. I offered, she took a couple of minutes to cancel her ticket (she could have been one of those accompanying me in the train), and left.

Too bored to surf, I began tweeting my sob saga. Being a verbose old-fashioned fool, I soon shifted to blogging and finally posted something on this blog after almost a year. Thanks for listening. The girls in the cabin wouldn't anyway because I won't be awake in the train.

Towards a Freelance Career

2008-05-18T10:30:00.001+05:30

A few of you know that I broke my leg in the beginning of this year. I was bed-ridden for about a month and have been "house-ridden" since then. Yesterday I bought an elbow-crutch, like the one House used in House's Head! After another month I hope to buy a fancy walking stick, again like House! There are a few more striking "similarities" with House, but I will stop here.

In case you didn't know about the injury, sorry, I was only concerned that you might be concerned and thus kept you in the dark. Things are better than they sound. My writing career has never been better. I felt that you would be more impressed if I boasted several successes once, than one at a time.

After unofficially abandoning my writing course by joining my job, I started working on it again. I completed the last three assignments and am now waiting to receive my diploma. I will also get my certificate from IITM for serving on the editorial board of The Fourth Estate during 2006-07. Perhaps both before the end of this month.

I entered a writing contest for the first time, with my final LR assignment. On the Premises is a contest-based ezine. Every quarter they announce a premise around which stories must be written. Until now my fiction had more to do with fancifully chasing a brilliant idea. This time I enjoyed fewer degrees of freedom. I was forced to come with an idea adhering some rule, and weave a story around it. Challenging.

I sold my first article, to my writing school itself. The article might be published in July. The pay is not high, but it isn't a pittance either.

On the face of it I haven't blogged for over three months. The fact is, I have. One is the rafterjumpon website, where I applied to become an official rafter. I now doubt whether it is worth the effort. The rafterjumpon board has been postponing its plans to officially launch since April 2007, and did not announce new official rafters after 8th of this April. While this promises good prospects if it happens, the other blog, someone else's, to which I contribute weekly has been more fulfilling though it pays little in terms of money.

Talking about money, I have started taking my writing seriously in terms of a career and not just as a hobby. I made a few "investments", I continue to research about freelancing and offer my services on the market.

I completed working for my first client whose website material I rewrote. I rejected two long-term writing offers because the pay is low. I got another long-term offer recently; we are in talks and it looks promising and interesting. I will be disappointed if it falls apart.

The best thing about all this is not that I made my first sale, finished my course, have a growing portfolio, have offer(s), and of course not that I have been sitting at home. It is that I'm able to place my work and my services on the market. Sure, I don't hear from most of them, but that doesn't deter me. I consider myself a writer, irrespective of the rest of the world, irrespective of the number of rejections.

To Sir, With Love

2008-02-08T13:24:00.000+05:30

Dear Sir,

I know this comes a little late now. I wish it could have been like in Mitch Albom's tuesdays with Morrie. May be such gestures do not amuse you. I do not know. I never knew you well enough. That had been an excuse for not having met you again after my first year.

Probably the unknown person behind that enchanting persona, the mysterious brain behind that broad forehead remains a part of your appeal. It was never your dialogues, your diction or your style that won me over. It wasn't entirely what you taught either. I confess to having not understood some of these and forgotten most of these; I already have difficulty visualizing any part of the classroom vividly.

There was something else... like the evidences for the non-compartmental nature of various branches of science, the beauty in brevity and elegance, the virtue of responsible laziness, and most importantly the flashbacks behind the origins of problems. It is because of you that I could begin to see these, and continue to in different walks of life.

I had continuously tried to imitate you, not in actions but in thoughts. It was a failure because I find it difficult to understand even my own thoughts.

My career takes an eternal refuge in mathematics, and I am able to do that with great pride because you taught me how to appreciate it. I can't list what all I owe you, it is a long one.

I failed to pay you the gurudakShiNa you had asked for. Because I derive great pleasure every time I state that I sat at an arm's distance from you for over an year. If it helps, I only share it during the good times, when my skills in mathematics are being lauded.

A part of me feels compelled to introduce myself to you, to remind you who I am. But the rest assures me that it is pointless. I see the point of my insignificance.

You live in the memories of those days that we cherish. It is a pleasure.

Yours obediently,
Saran

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

To Junior, Without Love III

2008-02-08T13:09:00.000+05:30

You all must've been placed by now. Congratulations. After placements come CAT results. And many of you must've secured several calls. This is the time before the interview, the time when I come and piss you off once again.

There are three things about attending these unnatural calls.

Applications
Applications play a surprisingly important role if not in determining whether you can convert your calls into admits at least in determining whether you really have a reason to go the MBA way.

Apart from various dry details you'll be required to fill, there are what many call "essay questions" here. It doesn't hurt a bit to answer the essay questions with "template answers". There are many versions of these and you can have your pick. You just need to face corresponding questions during your interview, which may lead to embarrassing situations once in a while. But I suggest you to try something that hurts, not just to avoid embarrassing situations.

Try to answer the question "Why MBA?" truthfully. If the truth is just monetary, celebrate. You may for now bask in the comfort of having to deal with one less career choice. If the truth is not just monetary, celebrate. You now have multiple benefits from this.

One is that you at least have a figment of an idea about why you want what you want. Because this is a truth, despite its being clichéd if it is, there is a sense of additional strength that comes along. You can now dig a little deeper and establish the idea concretely. Also you can answer your other questions accordingly.

Group Discussions (GDs)
Attend at least one workshop that the coaching institutes like T.I.M.E and CL conduct. If you can't, talk to a person who did. There are different kinds of GDs and different paradigms of approach for each of these. You might be interested to know the methodic approaches, and will later be more interested to find out that none of them are really followed during a GD.

GDs I warn you are not for the skirmish. You must be ready to leave logic (even though you might be one of those who curse the movie-makers for doing the same), sense of decency, and pound on the other fellows sitting around the table. You most probably might be talking no sense, but talk you should, and more importantly should not allow anyone else to talk. At least, this is the mindset that people attending GDs seem to have. What is shocking is the façade of calmness and warmth that all these fellows wear.

Unfortunately, these discussions can cause concussions to a few members of the group. GDs are some of the most chaotic situations on earth and are the reason behind most of the earth's entropy. Theories are afloat that actual boardroom discussions have a much lower entropy though most are led to believe something else. Personally, I had also observed a striking similarity between GD rooms and the dining-room in George Orwell's Animal Farm.

If you can't be the GD-type, pat yourself that you can't. If you can, pat yourself that you can.

Personal Interviews (PIs)
PIs are not as personal as you might fear. In fact, it would do good if you do not take any part of the selection process as personal. These are not very different from the placement interviews.

They start with "Tell me about yourself", which again gives you a chance to direct a major portion of the interview based on your interests. Whether you want it to be about your acads (BTP), your leadership and managerial qualities (Shaastra/Saarang), your extra-curricular interests (Acting/Singing/Whatever) or your hobbies depends on how you answer that one question.

That said, there always are these "stress interviews" where you'll often be thrown out of your comfort zone, say by asking you to share some jokes (which they are not going to find funny), hammering around "Why MBA" if the reason given in your application form seems weak, or around your weaknesses if your CG is low.

There are also the "GK interviews" and "Fin./Econ. interviews" full of questions that people like me would not understand nor care to know about.

Some say that PIs have the maximum weightage. The coaching institutions might give you various break-ups amongst the three depending on the IIM. In my opinion, the only home work you can do is by taking care of your applications. Whatever, it doesn't matter. If you really want to get an admit all that makes sense is to give your best, in each of these.

So long and thanks for all the advice-seeking.

P.S. I'm now reading the last few pages of Douglas Adams' So Long and Thanks for all the Fish.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

To Junior, Without Love II

2007-11-02T16:54:00.000+05:30

Buoyed by your batchmates' thanks, I'm here to advise more. In the prequel, I forgot to even mention the kinds of jobs. Fortunately, the area fits perfectly into another article.

Let us consider the kinds of companies rather than the jobs.

Foreword
Don't be disheartened.
Disheartened because you got placed in Microsoft and not Google; everybody has very impressive projects.
Disheartened because your work doesn't seem exciting; the exposure and learning curve are going to be very steep anyway.

Product Companies
Regardless of the title, your job will be that of a 'developer'. Developers work towards developing a product (or project). That involves writing code in some language.

The work environment, timings and rules are usually informal. The mindsets of people in general will be laid-back, except when there are looming deadlines.

If you like to code, (or at least don't mind it), and loaf around most of the time this is ideal for you.

Finance Companies
The title is a variant of 'analyst'. The job profile (for Comp Sci students) might be different from that of a developer, but you will still need to code.

The attire, timings, rules and work environment are very formal. That said, the 'geek groups' might still be very informal at least in their work practices.

Whatever may be the profile, you are expected to have both interest and knowledge in Econ and Fin. (I never found out which word is used where academicall speaking.)

Consultancy Companies
The title is again a variant of 'analyst'. The job profile may be that of a developer (to develop in-house tools) or that of an analyst (to analyze a particular client's problem).

The attire, timings, rules and work environment are very formal. Usually, this is the case for any company where you might have to directly interact with a client (unlike product companies).

After rigorous training for about a month, you will move on to a project. Working over-time is often see in these and the finance companies. (Of course, most of us sit in the company for obvious reasons even when there is no work.)

Services Companies
The title is usually a variant of 'software engineer'. I have little knowledge about the job profile in this case.

The work environment, timings, rules and attire are slightly formal.

After rigorous training for the first few months, you will sit on a bench for a while until a new project comes along.

Many of us consider a job in such a company to be inferior. However, they have their upsides. Good programming skills is a strenth that most people working here develop.

Other Companies
I have no idea about companies that work in the energy area.

You might wonder what all placements you should sit for. It is a good thing to be selective, to have a clear picture of what you want and what you don't want, and sit for only those. I strongly advise you against sitting for companies that you don't want to join.

"I will sit for this interview for practice, and purposefully screw it," is a common excuse. What mal-practice is practicing screwing up things, and how does that teach you how to do well in an interview? You might still end up getting the job, and even worse taking it. When the interviewers realize that you sat through all this process just because you were done with watching all the movies on LAN, it is natural for them to feel indignant and nothing to be surprised about if they take it on your friend sitting in the queue after you.

Think before you sit for a company. It is not the same as uploading your résumé on the placement website.

I agree it is getting overboard. I shall stop here for these placements.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

To Junior, Without Love

2007-10-26T21:29:00.000+05:30

I know I'm not the right senior, but advising is one of my vices. So it got me thinking when one of your batchmates had pinged me for placement fundaes.

Advice 0: Chill
If I could do it, you can do it.

Advice 1: Now
If you can contact any other seniors, do that. Better them than me.

Advice 2: Gen
Month is a long time. (You'll realize if and when you have neither Net nor TV at home.) So you can do a lot of things at least from now on.

If you haven't been meeting your project guide regularly, you should start now. Define your project with your guide and get acquainted with it. Your project can play as important a role during placements as during apps. It is never too late to get involved.

Try to attend all the PPTs that you can. The companies often seem to make unpardonable presentations. Still, try to absorb a little while eveningdreaming about the package, the goodies and the grub.

You must have filled your résumé with lots of projects, programming languages and other utilities. Delete all those that you haven't even a faintest idea about. If you find yourself deleting too many of them, you might want to get in touch with those from whom you had cogged them.

Turn the pages of Bach, CLR, Deitel and any other books that you enjoy going through. Dust your grade cards and identify all the basic courses that you don't mind. See if you can identify a few keywords from each of these courses and ask yourself how much you know about them.

It is about time you acquired some "strengths". If "faking strengths" is your strength, that might suffice as well. As they say, anything that works.

Advice 3: Tests
Usually there are three kinds of tests—aptitude, core, programming. Irrespective of your self-appraisals, it is true that you know something about each of these. It is equally true that you have become rusty. Life in IIT does that to most mortals. Writing Mock-CATs even when you don't intend to write CAT is a good way of filling up your caches once again. Even though they might have nothing to do with the subjects, they will push you to think every weekend, something we rarely do while not playing CS or Quake. (Are there any other new games in?)

The aptitude test usually covers Quant, DA (both sections of CAT) or design and analysis of algorithms. Core usually covers the basic PMT courses with emphasis on some courses (closer to the core of the company). Programming is almost always about C/C++.

Advice 4: Interviews
The first question invariably is a version of, "Tell me about yourself." A safe stance for those who are supposed to ask all questions during a conversation. During any conversation, it is common (and polite) for people to continue from the last point of the previous person's dialogue. So begin in the usual manner and try giving the interview a sense of direction.

The interviewers can either find out your strengths and ask questions on topics of your choice, or read through your résumé (with your grade card attached) and ask questions on anything they come across. Be prepared to go in depth about your internship(s) and project. Those are two areas that you can't dodge.

When questions on courses are asked, lame excuses like, "It's been so long I don't remember now," work well for the Dual Degree students but probably not equally well for the B.Techs.

Other common question is a 'puzzle'. Either it really is a puzzle in the conventional sense, or it is just a problem where you have to come up with an algorithm and do the complexity analysis. It is common procedure to stick to one such problem, where you keep finetuning the algorithm and only then proceed to another. You may ask for a different one if you feel you haven't a clue.

See. You all know. The placements are no different from the internships these days. But the stakes are higher, and that may cause panic.

Standing along with your opposition here, I can tell you that unless they are already experienced they are usually trained in interviewing before they face you. Being asked for feedback on the interviewers is not uncommon. Whether they seem to make you feel at ease or stress you out, they will (and should) remain polite.

Really rude interviewers are rare but not unheard of. Keep your calm and if you can't bear it, walk out of the interview and inform the placement office about the case.

Advice 5: Post-interview
It is natural for you to post-mortem the interview, especially when you are 'rejected'. It makes sense to probe about what went wrong. If you seem to be trying to analyze the interviewers and their intentions, beware! Every company has its needs, studies them carefully, wastes a lot of time and money, and all this process wasn't taken up to make you feel bad. Pardon them for that. However rigorous that process might be, it is not infallible. It is a herculean task to select and reject someone based on the tiny window of time they are granted.

Cheer yourself up. Exchange pep-talks with each other, and play as a group while competing. You all have the ability to make your future. Go read your orkut testimonials if you feel down; you really are good.

Now, you might politely wonder how many of what I have advised you had I done. Or laugh and spit at my audacity. People advise as much from what they hadn't done as much they do from what they had. I advise more from the former.

Go get them.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

The Disastrous Semester

2007-05-04T21:15:00.000+05:30

1) All is well that ends well.
2) It is the journey that matters, not the destination.

Two contradictory oft-repeated quotes. Shows why “wise words” should be taken with a pinch of salt. How did I stumble upon this discovery? It was while brooding over my last semester, how it all was, how it’s going to end, where it’s going to take me.

The tenth semester isn’t yet officially over. But it no longer matters. Looking back now, and looking back a few days later wouldn’t make a difference. That’s how monotonic and predictable this semester has been.

Actually I’m the kind that likes, even enjoys monotonicity. It signifies order and well, I pine for order. But this order, this monotonicity, is something that no one would like. That of stagnation and inactivity.

It is ironic that such a semester, the worst among the ten, should bring me a perfect ten (prophetically speaking) academically. Even the three other feathers on my cap this semester—100 percentile in Quant in CAT 2007, the Fourth Estate issue and involvement with Technikon (that culminated in a partnership offer which I had to turn down)—all of them are grain I am reaping from what was sown and grown a semester ago.

I failed to get any results from the one thing I was supposed to do this semester—attend the GDPIs. I should take solace in the fact that three Profs agreed to give me good recos, and that I had a great time during the PIs though not during the GDs.

Forget about my ambitious writing plans and assigments, I rarely kept in touch with my StoryCrafters.

On the surface, this semester doesn’t seem any different from any of the first eight semesters. This should in fact seem better, with the results and all that. But this after a glorious ninth semester is like walking out of a rehab towards a weed shop directly. What a disgrace!

I'm an optimist. I always try to look at the brighter side. I believe in what Old Tirumala says: “All that happens, happens for your own good.”

I now know better. Better than I did after eight semesters. And better than I did after nine semesters. After having lived through the dark ages, I got a glimpse of the renaissance era, and then another glimpse of the dark ages. I think these glimpses are better than long eras for my ‘gold-fishy’ memory.

Some time down the lane I might not remember how the glimpses looked like, but I will still be able to feel how they felt like. And that at least gives me a greater sense of direction than I ever had before.

Here is toasting to a better future. For one and all.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

Booze, Lies & Videotape

2007-05-04T21:00:00.000+05:30

After seeing Candyman's blog, I felt that it's a good idea to post my first publication ever in the Fourth Estate here. However, if I were you I would skip this blog and read Candyman's.

I thank Steven Soderbergh for the inspiration behind the title of the article.

Booze
It was one of our earliest meetings. Still enthusiastic, ideas bounced off all our heads attempting to penetrate the remaining ones. We took our jobs seriously; I misunderstood and thought that everyone else should take us seriously too.

“Hey! Last night, I saw a very disturbing event and I am going to cover it.” I captured their attention (and hopefully the readers') and jumped head-first. “I went to XYZ hostel to meet a friend. The second years there were having a booze party in their wing. No seniors. Exculsive for the third semester guys.”

Their reaction was nothing like I had anticipated. “Macha, I don't think we should do this da. This is our first issue, and let us not get into trouble so soon.” Point taken.

But did they realize the gravity of the situation? “Smoking and Consumption of alcoholic drinks and/or narcotic drugs in the hostel premises is strictly prohibited. … ,” is among the rules and regulations to be followed by students in our campus. And while the drinking age-limit varies between eighteen and twenty-five from state to state in India, it probably is closer to the upper bound in this conservative state.

D’uh! When did Indians, especially IITians, ever give a damn about laws? The cream of the country is above trivial law; or is it above all law?

Fortunately, my friends weren't as insensitive as… the point is… the idea itself wasn't trivial. “But if we get someone else to write it, the heat will be on them. We can even publish as ‘Anonymous’ if they want,” one of them suggested.

I myself could've written it as ‘Anonymous’, but the idea was distasteful. Who would write an article that has a potential to make a difference, anonymously? (A writer blindly believes that his or her article has a potential to make a difference. Always. That is a primary factor that drives the writer.) Without any credit in any form? Personally, I felt that it might even dilute the content of the article.

Anyway, I approached a few friends who I felt would empathize with me. They all did.
However, it didn't move them. They weren't there when it happened. Due to various reasons, I couldn't get any of them to write my article.

I let it go. That was until I watched one movie…

Lies
The problem with writing about boozing is a couple of questions. One. What will they think? That you’re not cool? That you’re not liberal enough? Open-minded enough?

If the writer can think beyond (read ignore) this, then comes the next question. What if a person of authority comes and asks to identify what-should-I-call-them? I can't jeapordize the futures of some acquaintances for a what-should-I-call-it?

Thanks to Stephen Glass, I found a way out. Stephen Glass, the Fabulist, was the youngest journalist in The New Republic Magazine. 27 of his 41 articles contained fabricated material.

The Fourth Estate is not The New republic. We publish fiction. And we publish anything written by an editor. (Interruption... Now you know why this got published.)

So, here I take an oath. I make my disclaimer. This article is a figment of my imagination. It was a dream. A nightmare, to be precise. I can't recollect anything more from it. Call it a crystal ball reading, if you will. It is supposed to be hazy, isn't it?

Videotape
Why all this beating around the bush, you may ask. That’s me. Still, I tried hard and again let it go.

And then I saw a video. A clear video filmed inside a hostel room showing some friends partying. One of their proud brethren hosted it on youtube. [Ref. last paragraph of Lies.]

The video brought back the memory of the incident. With greater clarity.

Some of the faces haven't still lost their innocence. One of them shattered an emtpy bottle into pieces.

What if something had happened that night? What if they pass on the baton to their next generations, which they inevitably will?

The memory haunted me; made me feel guilty and tired. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I then wrote this, and put it away in my computer. This was my medicine.

No one needs to know. The secret is safe in my heart (which will fade away with time) and in my computer (which will vanish when my hard disk crashes).

Life returned to normal. Days passed, quizzes came and went, end-sems came and went. And life became turbulent once again with the end of the end-sems. The third semester kids celebrated the end of their semester with a special booze party. They just can’t wait, can they?I risked sounding old to stop feeling guilty. Am not getting younger by the day anyway. I’ve made my disclaimer and I don’t care what some kids think about me. Social drinking maybe in, but having booze parties is pushing it too far.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

IIMB GDPI: The Chit-chat

2007-03-16T21:00:00.000+05:30

IIMB, Bangalore

I now feel foolish why I had expected IIMB to be like IITM. There's absolutely no comparison and there shouldn't be. IIMB is tiny, the greenery is all planted and the construction reminds us of a jail or a fort. (Well, forts are later converted to jails.)

The candidates seemed equally congenial as during the IIML one with only lesser artificiality. Most of them seemed to know at least one other candidate. There were also many female candidates (8/32).

One thing that struck me as strange was everyone referring to the toilet as the restroom. That was g**. No offence meant to the community; it's just IIT lingo.

We were then called for the GD session. The girls were equally divided among four panels. The first impression I got when I saw our panel interviewers wasn't encouraging. The GD ("The Case of Falsified Data") however is my best till date. I spoke four times, for a total of at least one and a half minutes. The fifteen minutes time allotted seemed like an eternity because towards the end of the session people started hammering the same points again and again. The group behaviour was as good as in the IIML one.

Being the last one to be interviewed, I had to wait for about two and a half hours. I spent the time by chatting with people around (IITM's Bobo was also in my panel) and reading Robert Ludlum's The Bourne Supremacy.

The kind of feedback about the interviews on our panel till then was initially 'below average' slowly rising between 'average' and 'peaceful'.

When I walked into the interview, they first acknowledged that it has been a long wait for me and asked me how I'd spent my time. Then about the response I had received from the previous candidates. And then about myself.

This time I was careful not to repeat my IIML mistake and told them that I've been working on a project called Sentiment Analysis for the past eight months. It made them more curious than probably what 'NLP' would have and I spoke at length about my project. I never explained that much even during my placement interviews, throwing light on various modules and how they were being done. Also about how this would be useful for the sponsoring company. Only, I haven't spoken about this in a long time and hence while I covered everything that I would've liked to I didn't present it very well.

We later moved on to writing and my interest in publishing. I forgot to mention my being published in both fiction and non-fiction. But the rest of the arsenal was put on display and I'm sure it impressed them. They didn't exactly ask me even one question on my SOP, and I strongly believe that it's because I've been very convincing.

Then came a few questions on heuristics, some inconvenient ones on my position in class (which I did cover up well because of this final year), and the reasons behind this all. I was stumped when I was asked about the origin of the word 'heuristics'. Not any more.

Other extra-curricular activities next. Sports? None. But yeah, I'm a movie buff. Till that moment I had been visibly nervous throughout the interview. Suddenly, it was all gone. It was like discussing about Surrealism vs Neorealism with Yogi. The kind of movies I watch, the kind that I don't, and then the movie that I liked last. Only the previous night.

Robin Williams played the title role of Jack. Jack is a kid who physically grows four times faster than normal human beings. Mr. Williams did a wonderful job. JLo and Diane Lane were good too, especially the latter in a very tough role of Jack's mother. At the end, Jack starts a speech with, "I'll keep this short just like my life. I don't have much time ..." It brought me close to tears, a reason good enough to like the movie.

I was asked questions on the movie, on whether I would like to be like Jack, etc. I was then asked to ask them something; I couldn't come up with anything better than what they teach. Come on now, I couldn't ask them their tastes in cinema, could I?

To wind off the session, I was asked whether I was hungry. Yeah, I didn't even have breakfast. Would I like something? No, thank you, will go to the staff canteen. Take a few of these cashew nuts then, a handful of them. Thank you and good bye.

That might be my first and last visit to IIMB but it was a very pleasant one. And what can we say about the future?

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

IIML GDPI: The Mistake

2007-03-15T21:00:00.000+05:30

The Monarch Hotel, Bangalore

I walked into the IIML waiting room and sat in a corner. Most of the other people who came seemed unnaturally gregarious. After a few minutes, I relished a lollipop (candy) I had bought the previous night. Apart from the taste, I hoped that it would shock the onlookers and am sure it did.

We were surprised to find that half the candidates on our panel were absent. We had our GD on a general topic (something to do with poverty in India) with just six people. Everybody seemed disciplined and well-behaved, with usually just one person talking at a moment. I however hadn't opened my mouth even once.

After the GD, while waiting for the PIs to begin, we all chatted like old friends catching up with lost times. My not talking during the GD was also a point of discussion. I and another IITian during this time found out that our panel was only for PGP-ABM and not for PGPM itself!

Imagine the shock and the humiliation. It all made sense now–Half the candidates being absent, the GD topic, and my call letter itself. I decided to walk out of the whole drama immediately. I hadn't even filled the ABM application form which we were supposed to mail weeks before. My altruistic argument was that all this would only upset the interviewers thereby spoiling the chances of the candidates after me.

Everybody disagreed, asked me to stop trying to be too smart (Yeah, right.), and to attend the interview. I decided my course of action.

When I walked into the interview room, even before the interviewers began asking me anything, I began. I asked them several questions, made sure it was for PGP-ABM and not PGPM, explained my side about the reason why I made the wrong assumption (I had a reason!) and told them that I was in no way interested in ABM.

They asked me whether I still wanted to waste my time by taking the interview. I wonder whether they were being sarcastic, though I hadn't noticed any such tinge in their tone then. I told them that I wouldn't like to waste their time anymore unless they were willing to take a PGPM interview.

That was the moment when I began calling the shots. When the interview came under my control. They agreed that they would take a PGPM interview, and recommend me if found eligible. Of course, all this only if they establish whether my percentile scores and remaining application make me eligible for the interview in the first place.

After some initial chit-chat about my surname and myself (during which I made a mistake of telling them that I've been working on a project in NLP for the past eight months), we moved on to the SOP and extra-curricular activities.

They tested me on my knowledge about publishing (more than any of the interviewers that came later), suggested that our country needs more Ph.D.s, asked me about my not speaking during the GD, a little about Chennai (like the length of Marina Beach), etc.

During the interview they advised me the need to be a little more aggressive, considering my ambitions in life, and to start reading Finance and Economics magazines after I confessed that I didn't read any. Heck! I don't even read the newspaper normally.

Overall, I had a feeling that I set the direction of the interview, that I controlled it all.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

Magazine Matters...

2007-02-25T10:00:00.000+05:30

My sudden involvement with a magazine which is desperately attempting to be professional has finally forced me to be pedagogic about a few common magazine issues.

Why?
Do you know the purpose behind the magazine? Broadly the kinds of articles that can be published in it? Those that can not be?
You better be clear about them before some other magazine points out that you are not clear about them.

Theme
If there should be an underlying theme running across the issue, it is one of the first things you should decide on. The theme may then be shown through the titles, author-bios and the articles. Also, none of your team will have the excuse, "I couldn't find enough time to think about incorporating the theme..."

Ideas
Let us not get into how we come up with ideas. Suppose that we already did.
Ideas can't help; only fresh ideas can. Ideas are not transferrable; only fresh ideas are. Pool all the ideas of the team at a single place. Let their owners keep a few for themselves and leave the rest in the pool. Chances are you'll never run out of them and also that you can use them much later.
Also remember that recycling ideas works. Better than remixing songs.

Art Work
Even though you're mostly dependent on text, you will need artists and cartoonists.
Just because they're rarer, they make tough demands. Give them your requirements and inputs well in advance, and leave them to come up with something crazy. Be tough if their work isn't crazy enough.
Else, have someone who is capable enough to flick nice art work from little known sources.
Else, be prepared from someone like our Dean to tell you, "Put more life into the next issue."

Writing
Writing all the articles yourselves is an idea. Won't work. You can't write and readers can't read.
Keep in touch with those who are interesting, those who know interesting things, or those who are interested in writing. Form your own team. Rub each other's ideas and see if articles can happen. Make sure they all feel special, check on them every now and then, let them know their articles mean a lot to your magazine. At the same time, make sure to reject and tell them when their work sucks. You're neither in an obligation to accept all the horsepuckey they crap out.
The team is your own. You don't need to disclose their contacts or introduce them to the rest on the board. Trust me, contact from others on the board sometimes discourages some of the contacts.

On Board
Almost any magazine these days largely runs on freelancers. Resist the temptation to invite anyone onto the board unless you find them worthwhile and they show interest. No regular writers.
Go to the same person second time only after you've tried the rest once. Not unless they come to you with an article. Even they may sometimes be kept waiting till the next issue.

Columns
Coming up with broad ideas that can be developed into regular columns makes sure that you have some clue about at least a part of your magazine. Understand that it is the column that should be regular, not a columnist.

Editing
Check whether the articles have grammatically correct sentences, semantically sensible paragraphs and a good overall flow. Go over the article once as soon as possible, along with the writer, because that's the only time he or she exactly remembers the reason behind the curious usage of that queer phrase.
While you are at polishing the article, don't forget an author-bio.

Formatting
Though I forgot, I hope that you didn't forget to remind your writer that the article should be around those many words. I am sure you also tried your best in editing it to fall within the word limit.
You now find that the article leaves a small blank at the bottom of the page, or even more horrifying, spills over just a little bit into the next page.
In the former case, you can play gimmicks with the reader's eyes by playing with the font size or the line spacing. But in the latter case, it is that tiny irritating thing that you can't exactly get rid of.
In case you're still trying to be professional, you better stop trying devious methods. Instead, make friends with what are called 'fillers'. Fillers can be any art work or boxes of text (at least minutely related to the article). These may largely come from the ideas left in the pool.

Printing
Be clear about the quality of the cover pages, the other pages, the color pages, the centrefolds, everything you need to be clear about. Printing also follows Murphy's Law religiously. Get a single copy, go through it carefully, verify it with your final draft, make corrections, and order the right number of corrected copies.
A few extra copies for your people to distribute to their contacts would be nice.

Distributing
Don't expect the people in the Dean's Office or some others who usually do it to distribute for you. This one time, they're very busy. Be ready to distribute in person.

P.S. Did something else slip my mind? Let me know. I shall update it.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

A Spontaneous Post on a Spontaneous Reaction

2007-01-05T10:00:00.000+05:30

Nothing earth-shattering. Some of you might already know the exploits of auto-rickshaw drivers of Chennai. Their meter-less autos, their exorbitant fares and their talented tongue-lashing have been legendary.

Today, I and a friend went out of the campus and thus had to face the displeasure of interacting with them once again. After the usual rigmarole, we got into an auto of a middle-aged driver to return back.

Though he first begrudgingly accepted our bargain (the art of which I now am well-versed in), he began to grumble. Usually, the grumbling begins when the destination is close-by. But this began as soon as we started.

We politely told him that we would get down immediately if he wasn't happy with the deal. He couldn't understand English. After five years in Chennai, all I know in Tamil is, "tamizh teriyaad." He stopped grumbling after we found a common language of conversation, Telugu.

He's a very careful driver, one of the slowest anyone may encounter. He once stopped the auto mid-way (near some cross roads) and called a two-wheeler, whose driving the driver wasn't satisfied with, some harsh names (Tamil is actually a very soft language.) before moving on. I then reminded myself that we should be prepared for something similar while getting down.

At about two kilometres away from our destination, we changed our plans and stopped the auto immediately. Anxious not to get into a fight, we paid the full fare even though we could do away with lesser. He began asking for some extra money which we obviously denied.

Fortunately, we got down at a traffic signal. It turned green after we gave him the money. He couldn't fight there any longer, fearing the blowing horns behind.

He moved on. While we were waiting at the pavement for the traffic to subdue for us to cross the road, he stopped in his way again, turned back, and made a short venomous attack. And then I displayed my spontaneoity.

I gave my biggest smile to him and waved happily.

I am glad he saw me do that. I was extremely angry at him. People would've probably retorted or at least showed some fingers. I felt better this way.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

Movie Reviews

2007-01-02T10:00:00.000+05:30

In a New year, it is only fair to have a new series. It keeps me all the more excited when I'm making this attempt to revive my blog.

I'm passionate about movies. At the same time, I'm also biased about movies. I point out the few flaws of the movies I dislike and ignore the many flaws of the movies I like.

I'm unpleasantly critical about today's Indian movies (especially telugu). I strongly believe that most of the current generation (those working today) in Tollywood do not know (or choose to ignore) their basics. Hence, I'll attempt not to review them. If at all I do, they'll be movies that have indeed earned some appreciation.

The bottom line is, these are my reviews. And are very much unlike the professional movie reviews we usually read.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

Ninth Sem at a Glance

2007-01-01T22:00:00.000+05:30

It's a lie. If you want a glance, read the 2006 News Archives, past the July 2006 news items. It's brief and to the point. If you've the patience to watch me ruminating, continue reading this. Of course, I make an attempt to divide this into several sub-topics. For you.

I've always maintained that my semesters have been better than the previous ones. This, independent of the academic records that clearly showed otherwise several times. I still do. Now, I'm also at a point where everything including the academic records provide supporting evidence.

Academics
I'd one course and one project for the semester.

Science Fiction: An Appreciation is a wonderful course offered by Prof. S. Mohan. His passion and experience (he has been teaching the course for over two decades now) is evident throughout the course. Though I'm nearly a strictly "no-no" when it comes to SF, I thought that it would be improper for a writer to say that he or she doesn't know what some genre is about only because he or she doesn't enjoy it much. I went for it only to get a flavor of the genre. I got it and how! I recommed the course to everybody, if you are mature enough to have some minimum discipline for all the classes.

Though it's not the point, I also got the highest marks in a term paper that I wrote on Robert Heinlein's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Marks are never a big deal, but this is because it involves writing and critical appreciation of a novel with the focus on a theme in particular. I'd done this once before because I had to, but this time I did it for the 'right' reasons. My class participation was well-appreciated. I was the only student who credited the course in the whole class, and I passed along with a decent grade.

Buzz Analysis is the project brought forward by Mr. Sanjay Dattatri of Marketics Technologies (India) Pvt. Ltd. It's the first sponsored project for Dr. Narayanaswamy (thankfully) and I was asked to come in (thankfully again).

The project is a most interesting one in Natural Language Processing. Neither I nor Dr. Narayanaswamy had any prior knowledge (though I suspect he did have some elementary knowledge) in NLP. This fact along with it being a sponsored one (with soft deadlines, at least) made us take an approach where the concentration was not on getting bogged down by literature surveys but on being able to get some tangible work done.

While the momentum has been constantly changing (increasing a few times and decreasing several other times), there has been some progress. All probably because, as a friend said, I have a motivation from the pay I (might) receive.

The interim project evaluation went quite well considering that there were no comments from Dr. Chandra Sekhar and there was a 'good' from Prof. Hema Murthy. I must confess that the progress has been below average over the last couple of months attributed to a whole gamut of inane excuses.

Letting bygones be bygones, I'm now more determined (than ever) to work better for the project. There's a high probability of having a paper, but I hope that won't be all.

Placements
The campus placements at IIT Madras are still going on. Every year we see a lot more companies coming forward, and all of them with increased pay packages. It is nothing special, and something that should happen by default with each passing year. However, it has been very encouraging so far.

I sat for Microsoft, Yahoo!, Amazon, Credit Suisse, Adobe and ZS Associates tests without any success. I had three good interviews with Lehmann Brothers (Mumbai) and another extremely unpleasant one with Versata (Trilogy); both ended without I being made an offer.

On my final day with placements, I had two interviews with CISCO and two others with Veritas (Symantec). I turned down the offer of being interviewed (despite not getting through their test) by DE Shaw. I got offers from both Veritas and CISCO. Among many others, I should thank Buchi, Krishna and Yogish for Veritas. I opted for Veritas even though CISCO's pay package is fatter. I believe that I made a wise decision, a choice beneficial for all the three parties. Who knows?

I intend to write in more detail about placements, possibly with a larger audience in mind. Very soon. It's because the placements provide, for every student involved, a significantly steep learning curve.

One thing I forgot to mention. On the day our placements began, also began discussions regarding a job offer from Marketics. I must've made at least an average impression on them, with my project work of course. Unfortunately, the discussions were abandoned once I informed them about my placement offers in here.

On one hand I'm happy that the discussions didn't conclude, because turning down an offer makes me feel guilty (another job offer certainly means another turning down). When you've people surrounding you who are more talented but don't get a single offer and you get two offers because of your sheer fortune, you also have a simple guilt complex. On the other hand, I'm unhappy because it might be one wonderful offer. I never got to know the details of the job, which I'm sure would've been very exciting.

Writing
What does my life mean without this part? But then, this part would've been absent.

Other than doing a thoroughly good 6th LR assignment, I've done nothing in the course front. I actually also got a letter reminding me that I missed my 7th assignment deadline by over a month. And they say that all engineers are motivated by deadlines and only deadlines. May be I should be thankful I'm not like that.

There were however several significant developements.

After a hurriedly compiled application for the Fourth Estate, I got selected as one of the three english editors. I, GK, Prof and Apoorv (Hindi) have done the job finally. Good or bad, we'll know in a few weeks once the January issue gets passed by the Dean and printed and then released. The experience though has been erudite enough for me to share my wisdom (which I'm always ready to) with the next generations and to do a better job for the next issue.

I was also offered (as one of the three editors) the chance to edit our constitution (of IIT Madras) which has been long overdue. There're numerous changes in the constitution, and I've done my job. I hope that the next person in the pipeline did his and passed on to the authorized.

Also came the irresestible offer to be one of the two editors of the CS Department Newsletter (monthly) & Magazine (semesterly or yearly). I along with Sameer, with significant help from Buchi and Aniket, brought out the first Newsletter Isttisa. Whatever comments came in have been very encouraging. We now have enough ideas and experience to take on the rest of the job.

The most important of all is my breaking into e-print. Rediff India published my 3 valuable lessons from a CAT aspirant about three days before the C-Day (as is now the clichéd name). One insignificant speciality of this article is that it's the first one (sharing wisdom again—what I'm best at) by an aspirant unlike all others by experienced or expert people. Probably the most widely read article I ever wrote, there were several people who congratulated me and thanked me for the article. Now, that's the experience.

I also received a mail from Merril Diniz thanking me for the article and requesting me to send in more articles. I plan to exploit this market as much as possible.

Everything else
People usually roar their successes and whisper their failures. While I've been gibbering about my successes, I never shied away from expressing my failures. I take pride in my failures. However, it's different now.

There've been trials and tribulations over this period. They taught me wonderful lessons. Some of them, I probably will have to relearn again for a better understanding.

However, they're so close to my heart and so very personal that I decline to speak about them. Now that I'm not the only person involved in the fiascos.

Nevertheless, I'm reminded that the waves of life are not always pre-determined and life is not always the way we want it to be. It's better this way because it augments our ability to appreciate.

I bantered about my failures in most of my blogs so far, always reminding everybody that they help me grow-up. I then preferred that growth to success through activity. Over the past several months, activity crept into my life and so did success to some extent. I must confess that the lessons I learnt in this path are not any insignificant to the past ones. And I like this for now.

I will attempt to increase my activity now that I see the amount of time I waste despite what I do. There's always room for more.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

2006 News Archives

2007-01-01T14:00:00.000+05:30

31st Dec 2006
I've made a few resolutions, one of which is to revive my blogging. J

30th Dec 2006
We've completed the Fourth Estate January issue. Completely.

I now have enough experience to even write a how-to on how to go about as editors of such a magazine, which I'll very soon.

28th Dec 2006
I received a letter from the LRWG reminding me that I've missed the 7th LR assignment deadline by over a month already.

7th Dec 2006
Today, CISCO & Symantec made their job offers to me. CISCO pays more, and has a market share of about 70% for its products. I accepted Symantec's offer. It's actually Veritas, but never mind.

1st Dec 2006
Marketics Technologies (India) Pvt. Ltd. made me an unofficial job offer. It's a PPO. I must've done a decent job for our M.Tech project so far.

28th Nov 2006
I'm done with my part of the IITM Constitution work.

20th Nov 2006
We released the November issue of our CS Newsletter named Isttisa.

15th Nov 2006
My 3 valuable lessons from a CAT aspirant was published by Rediff. And Merill Diniz sent me a mail asking me to keep sending Rediff more articles. Watch out for more of my articles there in the future. I'll keep you updated if I've any, of course.

28th Sep 2006
I got selected as an editor of the CS Department Newsletter & Magazine.

14th Sep 2006
First meeting of Fourth Estate held. Long term plans discussed. Pressure from Dean is expected to be high. And work looks promising. I also got to volunteer in assisting the SAC Speaker & Co. in editing the constitution. I meant the constitution of IIT Madras.

12th Sep 2006
I got selected as an English editor of Fourth Estate, the official campus magazine of IIT Madras. You'll find more details about the day here.

I sent away my 6th LR assignment today.

I haven't been updating you with news on this front. So here it is in a nutshell: My 4th LR assignment, Know their Terms & Conditions was very well-received. I did a good job, with improvements to be made in research. My 5th LR assignment, to write a story-opening and a synopsis, was blasted like never before. I did such a terrible job, I never disappointed Anne so much. Fortunately, I wasn't asked to resubmit. Or was it my misfortune? My 6th LR assignment was to finish the previous story. I did a good but verbose job.

28th Aug 2006
My Partners in Grief got rejected by Glimmer Train Press. It was just an autonotification. Am still in the slush-pile then. On second thought, I attribute the rejection to my bad market selection.

19th Aug 2006
I sent my LR 2nd assignment Learning to Swim as an Adult to Indian Currents magazine. Whether or not I get accepted, I think the magazine is going to hear a lot more from me.

31st Jul 2006
I sent Partners in Grief to Glimmer Train Press, one day before the market goes into hibernation.

19th Mar 2006
After I started, writing never got the last seat till the past few months. I received my edited 3rd LR assignment.

Some of the compliments that Anne gave me were, "Excellent use of the second person. I rarely see it being used and in this case it’s very effective." "Good work. Very original idea and execution." "This idea of writing about learning to swim as an adult is highly original. I thought I’d read articles on every conceivable subject over the years, but this is my very first article on this topic."

I must have done a really good job. The compliments took me to my highest point this year. Now, the market research awaits me. Keep your fingers crossed, you may one day read it somehere. I didn't write anything new, but have done a lot of sensible re-writing. I have just over a month for my next LR assignment.

18th Jan 2006
I have been busy. Though there have been no blogs, I have been writing quite often. I finished my first 2 LR assignments. The 2nd one, I did one month before the deadline. I am now working on my 3rd.

Why I Stopped Blogging

2006-12-31T22:00:00.000+05:30

I blame it on my acquisition of my publishing credentials, however insignificant they might seem. Once I got published, I had a plan.

Like all ill-conceived plans, it was marvellous in the sense that I had to work (write) much lesser than I used to. The plan was this: Now that my potential for getting published has been proved, I would write only pieces with a market in mind or at least the ultimate aim of getting them published.

The plan took a toll on my writing. I wrote on very few occasions that were far and in between. It also kept me dissatisfied all along, at least when I'd something going in my mind which like every other writer I had to put on paper (or the word processor).

I also wonder whether my "freely flowing writing" was affected despite the fact that I've been improving on my craft issues.

I've now decided to revive my blogging.

Because I, like all the other writers in the world, have this quintessential necessity to write crappy scraps to maintain my sanity. I'm sure the crap I write here will have a lasting affect on my writing, in a positive way of course.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems—physical, psychological, spiritual or any other—after reading these posts.

My Short Stories

2006-09-16T21:30:00.000+05:30

Due to recent developements, I have decided not to post the stories that have the potential to appear elsewhere. I would rather work on these insipid pieces, make them better and re-submit.

7. Subrahmanya Shrinivas - The Case of Plagiarism
My first attempt at writing suspense. I think it came out very well. However, the climax still bothers me. I intend to make Subrahmany Shrinivas a series character.

6. Waiting for Love
The first romance I ever attempted. It's still being written. Actually, I abandoned it months ago.

5. Enlightenment Through an Eight-year-old
This is my first short-short. I struggled to get this below 500 words. This was written for the Spring Anthology Contest conducted(now closed) by Mary Rosenblum in LRWG. It didn't make it to the final list. The more deserving ones did. Never mind, I did a very good job.

4. Assurances Once in a While
This was first named "Divya Decides to Die". I did a terrible job when I first wrote it. I re-wrote it a couple of times till now and in course changed the names to "For Once, Divya Preferred Secrecy" and to "For Once, She Preferred Secrecy" and finally to the current name. I haven't submitted this anywhere so far, but am thinking of doing it very soon.

3. Not Reserved
Didn't submit this anywhere. The story was too pontific. One said, "Boy, that was a lecture and a half." I don't think it is good enough. This is an example of over-stating a theme.

2. The Gods' Get-togethers
My second submission. My first attempt at writing fantasy. My first rejection. Some friends liked the idea, others didn't like even that. Everyone unanimously felt that it was ill-written. One friend said, "This looks something like what Douglas Adams would write." I took it as a compliment. The theme once again was strong. The climax was weak. May be I should rewrite this sometime again in the future.

1. My Son's Murderer
My first submission ever. It was accepted, posted in a website. Most friends said that they liked it. One compliment was, "I can't think of better ways to write this." I felt that I did a good job. The theme again is good. But there is a whole blog on this here. The story has later been rewritten as Partners in Grief.

0. My God! I don't like your God!
Never cared to submit it anywhere. Most friends hated it. One said, "You can get this published after you die, after you become a celebrated writer. People will read this and think, 'Oh! That's a classic.' " And most elders who read it loved it. I personally don't think that it was long enough to create sympathy towards the main character. The theme is beautiful, though.

Biggest Day as a Writer

2006-09-12T21:00:00.000+05:30

Today happens to be my biggest day as a writer. It never even came close to this after the day I got selected for the LR BIP. There are three things responsible for this.

One
The day started at 00:00:01hrs. I came back to my hostel room after loitering around with friends. I had already missed my 6th LR assignment deadline. I sat down and started writing. It went on for about three hours, a very long time by my standards these days. I finished the first draft of the assignment (half of which I'd done previously). I now had to go over it again.

I needed fresh eyes. I knew I would not come back soon again if I let go this opportunity. I was feeling hungry and so had my breakfast then at 0315hrs. I watched the movie Shattered Glass, a wonderful movie on journalism.

After the movie, I acted as if a new day began. Brushed my teeth and bathed. I sat down writing the usual letter I write to my instructor along with the assignment. And then, I wrote a small article that I promised to a friend.

I thought that I'd enough fresh eyes. I went over the assignment once and couldn't find much. I had difficulty in keeping my eyes open. I then slept from 0730hrs to 1130hrs. I missed one college class. I then went to my department for a few minutes, had my lunch, came back and revised my assignment two more times.

Feeling satisfied, I mailed it off. And then slept for another 1.5hrs. After I woke up, I realized how foolish I was sending away the assignment so soon. There were mistakes I started seeing in them. I wanted to kick myself after a long hard day.

Two
A friend forwarded me a mail. A journalist of The Hindu wants to meet budding writers from IIT Madras. She's doing an article on them. I gave my name showing my interest to meet her.

This is a big thing in a way. If things go well, I might have some opportunities there.

Three
About three hours ago, while I was in a shop, I got a phone call from a guy I did't know. He told me that I got selected as one of the three editors of the Fourth Estate magazine ...

About two weeks ago, I applied for an editor post for the Fourth Estate magazine, the major one in our university. All we had to do was brag, write why we considered ourselves eligible to be an editor of the magazine. In addition, we were also asked to submit a short article on any topic related to our campus life.

I was keen to give it my best shot because this's a big thing in our university. The competition would be great. But my parents came to visit me during that time and hence, I couldn't write my application until the day they left. I don't mean to say that they gave me a problem. But they gave a me pretext. Till then, I thought in my mind about what I would write.

That was the last date of submission. I wrote Damn the Matreeks!, a humorous piece. Matreeks (I coined it) are the big geeky fans of the Matrix trilogy. Making things more dramatic, I could reach the submissions office only ten minutes before its closing time.

I didn't tell anyone about it because I had absolutely no hopes about it. I hadn't even looked at the magazine before. The only strong point on my side, I thought, was my being a final year D/D student which I wrote, "gives me a lot of free time to work for the magazine." And I felt that taking a rejection when no one knows would be easier.

Editor is a big responsibility for an amateur writer; something that I've not done till date. But I think this will help me grow as a writer.

I think I'll remember how I felt today for a very long time.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Re-writing "My Son's Murderer"

2006-03-19T22:00:00.000+05:30

I haven't written anything new after January. But I think I have progressed a lot as a writer during this time.

I read about the importance of re-writing last December. I realized its importance over the past couple of months. And I finally put the principle in practice over the past couple of weeks.

For some reason, I reopened My Son's Murderer and read it. It sounded so inane. I knew what a fresh pair of eyes meant this time. I began making the first set of changes.

I began with removing everything about OCD from it. It was neither important to the story, nor did it make any sense to me anymore. Then I thought about the readers; about their intelligence.

In the final scene, Mrs. D'Souza goes back to Medha's place and tells her explicitly what she has come to believe. It looked silly. I felt that my readers should make it out from the remaining story itself. And hence removed the whole scene.

When I posted it among my writing buddies, everyone who replied liked the story. Sirlurker pointed out that the open ending left him wondering what could have happened later. I actually felt that I left enough evidence in the story to guess what could have happened. And this sent me into a brown study - about writing and writers. What I thought could be shared at another hour.

A troll pointed out the shortcomings in the craft. I bow to you Speck. Thank you.

I sent a request to Pustak Mahal website to remove the story from their website so that I could submit it elsewhere, or whether they would mind re-considering it. They asked me to send the new one. When I sent them they said that they updated the new story, which they didn't, and wished me luck with submitting elsewhere. That they were happy to remove it any moment after it gets accepted anywhere else.

I didn't feel good about it. Though they might not have meant it, it looked like they were challenging me to get it published anywhere else. I read the story once again. It was still not good enough. I realized that I needed to do something more logical. I started with thinking carefully.

What is the goal of the story? The reader should empathise with both Mrs. D'Souza and Medha. But I wrote it in first person from Mrs. D'Souza's POV. Is that good enough?

No. I wrote it that way because I am more comfortable with first person. But there is the first scene of Phil's death, in the absence of Mrs. D'Souza. For this to be realistically portrayed, it should be done in third person. So I decided to re-write the whole story in third person.

Even then omniscient is bad. I mean, it should be mostly avoided. I then decided to do restricted third person from Mrs. D'Souza's POV. Also, the goal is easier to pull off this way when compared to first person even in the absence of the first scene.

I also removed all the clues that give away apriori what Mrs D'Souza might finally do.

The story sounded good. But there I said it. Sounded. Not looked, yet. Show, don't tell. Right? So I tried to bring in a lot more show compared to tell. It does look good now.

I now have a few guidelines to follow while writing anything.
1. Before you lose it, write down everything on paper (or wherever else) in a way you are most comfortable with - first person or third person. Don't worry about the length or the craft now.
2. After somtime (I don't know how long), come back to it with a fresh pair of eyes. Think. Does this achieve what you had in mind before you started off? Is a change of POV required? Are you giving away too much detail? Are you telling a lot, instead of showing? Re-write with the appropriate changes.
3. Come back again to polish it more.

Simple, isn't it? I challenge you to go past the first step.

For the first time in my life, I did it all. I know what it takes, and how it feels in the end. I now need to find a market for it.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Saarang 2006, Day 5

2006-01-30T21:00:00.000+05:30

The Day of Led Zepplica & Parikrama.

The last day. There was nothing much, but I didn't want to sit in my room all day. I would rather move around trying to catch glimpses of the fading scenic beauty.

I walked to the Sports & Entertainment Quiz Finals in CLT. I was there only for the Entertainment part. I should have participated in the Prelims. While I couldn't answer most of even this part, there were some guesses that I could have made using my knowledge.

Next followed Mono-acting. Most of the people who participated were from IITM, those who had already acted in the Dramatics play two days before. Aafi performed on the Merchant of Venice. Porko on some hilarious story Hysteria involving Sigmund Freud and an Italian. His Italian accent was amazing. Maanasi, the JAM Finals runner-up, did something just for the heck of it. But it didn't have any characters. Dilip Thomas did something funny on the today's American families.

Before the results were announced, Gopal from SRM did mimicry on a person facing ridiculous problems while making an omlette. He was accompanied by Murali who enacted the role. It was great fun.

Gopal won the first prize, Porko the second and MGM (whom I previously knew only as Friday in Treasure Island) came the third.

I walked out after that and slept like a log. I didn't go back to the Rock show by Led Zepplica & Parikrama. You already know my feelings for Rock, or rather against it. From today it is back to college, or whatever is left of it.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Saarang 2006, Day 4

2006-01-29T21:00:00.000+05:30

The Day of the JAM Finals.

I skipped my breakfast. I had infact warned MCK the previous night to breakfast like a prince because we wouldn't be able to lunch or dinner even like a pauper.

I went to the CLT, for the LM Solo Finals. I found out that IST means Indian Stretchable Time, and being true to nationality the programme started about 45 mins late.

Rajya Lakshmi, one who sang kokkA ... koDi ... in Chandramukhi, was the judge. All the participants sang extremely well. Benny, an enthusiast from MCC, who by then became famous (I heard that he has been famous since the past year itself) sang a self-composition. It was great.

One 'nervous' guy sang thrice, all the times forgetting the lyrics (and I think, taking liberty of the tunes). He appologized to everyone, mentioned once that he already became famous enough with his blunders, and never seemed nervous to me. But well, Blessed art thou who can believe.

The main (only?) thing I felt about their unprofessionalism was that several of them didn't mind respiring into the mike even while they were not singing a song situated in a bedroom scene.
Then started JAM (Just a Minute). I was watching it for my second time, but can be called my first time. It was wonderful. CLT was jam-packed. The eight finalists were truly in hot seats. Two girls and six guys. Just two IITians Porko and KG (notorious for his ease in getting negative points by the end of the show).

The buzzer application WangBuzz was previously written by eight guys, Avinash being one of them.

The delay was over 22 hrs, because the moderator got stuck-up in Bangalore the previous day. And that was totally acceptable. He repeated more times than anyone else that, "Moderator is God," but it sounded as normal as quoting his name. He is supposed to have moderated several times in the past for Saarang JAM Finals. Though I didn't recognize, I was told that he appeared in the Fair and Handsome advertisement. He is handsome.

All the contestants are Gods, though none of them proclaimed. They could think on their feet literally, and their thoughts were marked with wit. The topics chosen also provided scope for it, thanks to the moderator. Several people thought that it wasn't good enough, that it was boring, that Sacho's absence was conspicuous, that watching it for ten minutes was more than enough, and many other things. But I loved it.

The atmosphere, as the moderator wanted, was romantic. I felt that it was euphemism for the eight rapes that were to take place while hundreds witness them. But at one point, it started getting truly romantic. Porko and a girl(not the winner I later mention) conversed deeply using only their eyes for a very long time. Despite the moderator's wish to keep family tiff's outside the place, what started off as a friction between the two went on and on for over one round. During which, they played their games but didn't stop staring at each other. Even God, I mean the moderator, might not have known what followed after the game outside the venue.

During the break after the seventh round (Eight rounds, one each for each participant) there came a guy from Cognizant named Shankar who left everyone speechless with his unique mimicry. He performed instrumentals for three songs - one english, one from Dil Se and another from Saathiya. And he had only his mike during that time, no instruments. Many got up and bowed to him.

KG won finally with a little support from the moderator, I felt. I think his score was around -35 points.

Maanasi, a Stella Marris girl who declared in the beginning that she was playing to win the game, got second. She was leading for most of the game when suddenly the moderator gave KG a chance to speak just because he "wanted to for some time." That was when she started making more mistakes, losing more points. I thought that she got upset and felt unfair. I empathise with her. She should have won.

The guy who stood third was the unspoken God, in the true sense. He mostly preferred silence to buzzing, and thus ended up with very less negative points.

The day was supposed to be that of Light Music, with both the LM Solo and LM Group Finals. But with JAM Finals, I heard and later saw that, nothing else mattered.

I, along with Krishna and MCK, finally got to eat a few morsels of whatever for the day. MCK went back to his room, said that he would return in about an hour. We both stayed there, mostly spending time in CLT.

There was a Rock show conducted by Prof.LS Ganeshan (LSG) and a small band of IITM students. The songs selected were mostly from the earliest days of Rock. For once, I didn't mind sitting through a Rock show. LSG is about 60 years old, and he would have put the previous night's Rock finalists' vocalists to shame. Such zeal he had. The best thing was that I could hear the lyrics very clearly amidst all the electric guitars and percussions and key-board. Speaking of key-board, the player was a freshie (Shouldn't call them that even now, can we?) who was simply great.

Then we waited in the queue and finally entered the OAT, for LM Group Finals. There was again a delay of about two hours.

We looked like an island of guys surrounded by a sea of girls. But it was all spoiled by the exodus of men coming from everywhere and sitting near us. Many of them misbehaved as in they threw paper rockets on the girls. The police came; they saw and they went. Some of the gay guys threw rockets on me and MCK as well. We didn't answer their calls. Most girls left in due course of time, making us feel insecure. We hoped that they would help us out by tesifying about our character in the eventuality of a lathi charge.They too left after some time. After some time, we shifted our place.

The performances reminded me of the Rock show. While the orchestras were most of the time extra-ordinary, the vocals were drowned by their noise. There were a few instrumentalists who made us think, "What the hell is he or she doing here?"

Most of the teams used harder music than what light music must mean. I wondered if they knew what LM meant, though I don't deny me ignorance about it. The electric guitar was indispensable. Adding to it, the people managing the mikes and other arrangements certainly got the wrong meaning. They thought that light music is music accompanied by bizarre lights. They tried their best to do what they meant.

IITM, unlike all the groups till then, performed only light music and gave an "interesting performance" as the judge said. They were welcomed with boo's from all around.

Finally MCC won the first prize as usual, but I felt that the Crescent which got second prize was much better. The judges have the last words. Shankar of the morning came again to perform his mimicry before the final results were announced.

It was nearly 2330hrs by the time everything ended. I could no longer stay to see the Main Quiz Finals or the Lone Wolf as it's more rightfully called.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Saarang 2006, Day 3

2006-01-28T21:00:00.000+05:30

The Day of the Duo Bertrand En Cie.

I started to the Dramatics. Suddenly, I changed my mind and went to write Main Quiz Prelims. The questions were great. Of about 32, I could get 3 questions correct. That was when I began getting creative. I answered almost all the questions sprinkling campy humor wherever possible. I was being more creative than I did the previous day for the Creative Writing: Theatre competition.

I then walked to the CLT, where Dramatics was going on. There were lots of empty seats, but those who were present were giving undivided attention. My entry annoyed most people because I disrupted the lighting and silence. I did it again within a couple of minutes. The play going on won the first prize. A beautiful one on communal riots(I guess. I went during the last ten minutes). Just two diametrically opposite characters talking to each other.

The next play I watched was supposed to be a suspense, with screenplay similar to Pothurajan, with about four possibilities narrated. It also used the concept of homosexuality. I think it was trying to be seriously taken, but it soon became a laugh riot.

I thought that the play was taking place in a western country because of the homosexuality, the words often used like 'tele'(instead of TV) and 'weed'(supposedly like grass) and the usuage of firearms at home. But there was some reference at a later point which meant that it was set in India.

In one possible narrative, the father accuses the son's boy-friend of "screwing his son's life". More out of boredom, I whispered to MCK, who was beside me, that what he said was "literally true" in the play.

There were three girls sitting in front of us. I wondered if what I said was too rude. The girl sitting in the centre seemed to like it. She began whispering to each of her neighbours the word 'literally' and they laughed among themselves. I am sure that they laughed at my raunchy remark and not at me. Had one of them looked behind, I would have tried something. Just to talk, something more than a casual exchange of hello's. Nothing more. No. It's not a big deal for you. For me it is bigger than getting another E this semester.

The next play was by IITM, which was hilarious, based on RL Stevenson's Treasure Island. It got the second place.

I went out and fed myself on some junk food. Then walked to the Creative Writing: Poetry. I decided earlier that I wouldn't be taking part this time, for obvious reason. It was tough. They asked us to write about four poems using a particular rhyming scheme based on some caricatures drawn, about three Haiku (What's a poetry competetion without Haiku?) and another poem of some usual format. All in four hours. I might not have participated in such a thing even if there had been nothing else for me to do and had I been good in writing poems.
And waited for WTGW (What's the Good Word) Prelims to begin, along with MCK. After a delay by over 30 mins, we started and had fun. We didn't do well, unsurpisingly. Neither of us are good in English. Whatever little we could get, was thanks to MCK's puzzling brain. We obviously didn't get selected for the final round.

There was nothing else for the day because the night would have Decibels Finals, something based on Rock. After much ado, I went to the OAT to check out on the girls that might be present there. After all, Saarang would be over in another couple of days.

I met Ravi Chandra near the entrance and we both stood behind the queue. As usual, we all were asked to show our ID cards. Then began the frisking. The security volunteer started looking for something in my wallet, after thoroughly frisking me from feeling my collar to the trouser pockets to the folds above the ground-level. When I asked him what he was searching for, he told me that he was looking for blades or any sharp objects. Luckily, he didn't mind me keeping my pen along with me.

We found nearly no girls inside, thankfully. The last two entries did their job while we sat there. Rock intrigues me to the extent of bringing boredom. One guy on the vocals amazed me. The lower he bent, the higher he jumped, and the louder he shouted. He reminded me of a spring with a large spring constant.

There were few aficionadoes who listened to the whatever-you-call-them very attentively. I couldn't listen to anything. I just heard a lot of cacophony amidst greater noise. I often wondered if the puzzle of figuring out the lyrics from the songs drew all the Rock fans to it.
Then came the Duo Bertrand En Cie. A french band, which used a fusion of Jazz and Rock. At least till I remained in the concert, they predominantly performed Jazz. And they Jazzed as everyone around here now say.

It was only instrumentals. They must have figured out that even the Rock fans wouldn't be able to understand anything if they sang. After all, they knew only French. One of them got something in Hindi written in his language and read it out. That small gesture won everyone's hearts. Another talked in French, while his friend tried to translate it to us in whatever English he knew.

During the concert I, along with Ravi, changed my place thrice. First we sat where we thought there was a greater population of girls then elsewhere. Then we sat near a couple of friends. After they went away, we moved to the Chair seats. It was a great spectacle to watch the show from there. I made my decision then that come what may, I would either get a Chair seat or not attend at all for the next LM concert.

At the end of the day, I enjoyed more than I did the previous day.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Saarang 2006, Day 2

2006-01-27T21:00:00.000+05:30

The Day of the Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy Show.

I woke up early in the morning and hurried to the Administrative Block. The place where the Republic Day Celebrations would start. Luckily, I was about 10 minutes before time.

The programme was short, lasted about 33 minutes as specified in the schedule. Krishna, who wanted to accompany me, couldn't wake up because of the previous night. I usually don't find many friends turning up for Independence Day Celebrations. But this time, due to Saarang, the area was even sparsely populated. The majority belonged to the faculty and the security departments. I met less than ten friends. Carlos, one of the Cul-Secs, managed to make it about a couple of minutes before the end.

After coming back for breakfast, I went to the India Main Quiz Finals. I saw a few passed-out students there. I usually dislike quizzes for the main reason that I don't understand most questions. This time, it was much better. I seemed to enjoy it very much. By the end of the show I could answer one question correctly, but that was because it belonged to the category of Cinema - Kannada. Yogish's team "3 Toed Sloths" not only made to the finals but also managed a 3rd position. Shrinivas (PTM), the Quiz Master was certainly a God.

Speaking of Gods, almost all the co-ords called themselves Gods at least in writing. The Daily Quiz Co-ord was being more frank when he wrote, "The Co-ord is not a God, but might behave like one." While there are several of these co-ords who can be called Gods as per IITM lingo, I also found several others who were far from it.

After lunch, I went straight to the Creative Writing: Theatre. It was the second day. I missed Prose on the earlier day; I blame Mr.Kukunoor for that. We were asked to write a short play, even co-ords don't know what it means. I never read a play in my life, forget writing.

We could write a play on one of three settings. One was where four given Shakespearean dialogues were to be used by four different characters. I assumed that the couples who walked to the room would write it. It would make them feel better about their relationship status, or at least bring in more heat.

Two was where a vague picutre from Glasbergen's web site was asked to be interpretted in any way. The intelligent pairs of friends (same gender) might write it. I overheard two guys sitting behind me discussing animatedly about the picture.

Third was where four characters were described, and a play was asked to be written using them. Being the lesser-creative, I chose this. For about one hour, I just thought about my characters and their back-grounds. Their very detailed lives. For the next half-an-hour, I thought about a possibility of a theme and few scenes.

Around that time, one of the co-ords who is a friend, seeing that I didn't place a dot of ink on the paper asked me to write away something soon and give it. I smiled meekly, showing that I was incapable of creativity.

I finally cooked up four different scenes. It was a very bad writing exercise for me, as there was absolutely no scope for what we writers call SDT, show don't tell. If you describe the scene setting before the characters come into play, you are blamed of writing a narrative essay. I just managed to put my idea on the paper.

I am not counting on winning anything, but I was glad that I could spend about three hours for writing even in this hectic schedule. I decided to go there the next day again.

Then I walked into a lecture being given by Mr.Gurucharan Das, who was once called the Prince of Happiness (Ashok Kumar). It was the last thirty minutes, and I think it was something about Maha Bhaarata, Values, Good, Bad and Ugly. Later Krishna was upset that the lecturer blamed Krishna(the one in Maha Bhaarata) of being deceitful.

I was walking around, mostly alone, as we friends got lost when Sriram told me that the Informals people were looking for two guys for a blind-date with two gals. I rushed to the stage and sat on it. There were very few guys and no gals.

I didn't realize that it was actually a kind of competition where several guys would be eliminated till just two remain. I dropped out immediately. I would rather see a prospective bride in the traditional marriage looks (peLLi chOpulu) than go to a swayamvara as a prospective blind-date-winner.

In addition, the co-ords didn't want someone of my kind. They mentioned it clearly that they were looking for someone cool. I am actually quite hot.

Later, we stood in a line for the Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy show. After a very long wait for over one hour, and an extremely uncomfortable frisking, I went in and settled along with Adarsh, Anand, Krishna, SCK, Sriram and Varun.

I wanted to go in the other direction because I saw some of the previous night's WCC girls going that way. My friends thought that I was acting too desperately. Actually, I wasn't acting.

We all sat there waiting for the show to start. Each time people shouted, I looked at the stage but there was no one. People were shouting at the girls who kept entering the OAT. Finally Shankar Mahadevan, Ehsaan Noorani and Loy Mendonsa walked onto the stage amid great applause.

Sitting beside me were students for some Andhra Pradesh college - about five guys, two girls and a middle-aged woman (mother of one of these?).

The show started with Shankar's breathless and with each song people started going gaga. The Security volunteers gave up asking the crowds to be seated very soon. Everyone had to stand up and clap while dancing or at least tapping their feet.

One guy in a front row began going wild. He started jumping over his friends and some times over others. He wanted people to lift him so that he could literally dance over their heads. I once nearly called one of the volunteers to have him warned; I should have done it. Meanwhile another guy literally sat on his friend's shoulders and shook himself vigorously.

I saw trouble coming. I swore more than I usually do, at the sight. I found even Adarsh and Sriram jumping, like most others. I saw them go so crazy only once before. Anand, Krishna, SCK and myself limited ourselves to tapping our feet and clapping while Varun looked even more in control.

I warned my two wild friends to take care and that I would beat them up literally if they tried to jump over anybody. They seemed to take it seriously, but they couldn't remember that while dancing to the tunes.

The AP girls and the middle-aged woman came back and stood beside me, while the five guys stepped to the front, as if forming a cordon. With each song, the wildness increased among people. We started getting squeezed towards the centre and those dancing felt that it was the others' duty to give them more room.

While all the people around me were ecstatic, I started to worry. Worry about the accidents that might happen if one of these enthusiasts trip. And worry about the women towards whom some nasty dolts started moving closer through their steps.

I could see the three women getting worried, especially the middle-aged woman. The guys who accompanied them tried to cover them from all sides, but they were too few to protect. For some reason, I felt it obligatory to help them. They were not in any danger, nor did they ask me for help. But no more thoughts about the WCC girls.

I asked my friends to control themselves and to try to push the other way so as to get more room for ourselves. They showed a very nearby group dancing crazily. Adarsh told me, "What can we do? It's time to enjoy. Everyone is supposed to dance today. Join us." Even my friends started moving to the centre, obviously because they were being pushed by others and these had to dance too.

I was getting more and more worried. I planted myself beside the crazy dancers. They started accidentally kicking my shins, and hitting my head. Nothing hard. Their arms just touched me while they were doing their movements. Seeing that I wasn't giving them room knowingly, they swore. I acted as if I didn't care, though I actually did. They wanted to make me go away and one of them started dancing while standing immediately behind me. Not much happened even then.

Meanwhile Shankar introduced Mahalakshmi Iyer, Ramon and Blaaze (The rapper who said, "I say Shankar-Ehsaan, you say Loy." Long live Blaaze and his rap.) while taking his much-required breaks. All the singers encouraged everyone to clap, to rise and to dance. I partly blamed them for all the bedlam.

I kept thinking. I did it most of the time because most of the songs that they sang were alien to me. That was the first time I ever heard them, and I couldn't really hear them much either. The facts started becoming clearer once again.

Facts. I hate crowds. I see a need for humans to act in a more civilized manner in crowds than while alone. But instinct seems to be the opposite. I go to a concert to watch the obscenely paid artistes perform. Not to go crazy, forgetting what the artistes are performing at all. My ideas of fun are similar to that of Monica's. I was not having fun in that crowd. My friends every once in a while seemed to notice my unsmiling face and kept asking me if I wasn't having fun. I am not the kind who can enjoy in crowds, though I can in groups sometimes.

I did what was the obvious thing for me to do. I walked out. About 75 minutes before the end. The person near the exit warned me that there would be no re-entry but I didn't care. I felt lucky for not being a Security volunteer. I hoped that the women would go out of the commotion too, before anything happened.

I walked around to the stalls near Bindaas Park. Bought a Chocolate Cake Delight. Sat to myself, in solitude, in silence, sequestered from the wild uproar.

I saw a girl dressed in a pink shirt and a white pant walking towards me. She looked beautiful, with hair falling on her shoulders. She was alone, and she pulled a nearby chair.

A drop of chocolate fell on my fingers. I wiped it with the paper-napkin and looked back at her. I came out of the delusion. I was too tired. I shook my head and feasted on the ice-cream.

I was thankful that the girl who walked to me was not in all white, with long hair freely moving with the wind.

I walked back to my hostel. In the way, I stopped at the Quark and bought a plate of paani-poori. While eating, I talked to the young kid who sold chat. He won't be more than fifteen. He is from Haryana, came here one year back, and his boss too is from Harayana. I bid him good bye while leaving. That was a very small conversation, but it's very rare for me. My hindi actually sounded good. It felt much better than a delusional chat with a non-existent girl.

I walked back to my room, took bath, and listened to the songs from Dil Chahta Hai in my computer. I could hear them from the OAT when I stepped out of my room. Then I read a wonderful blog about which I shall write soon.

That friends, to me, is enjoyment.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Saarang 2006, Day 1

2006-01-26T21:00:00.000+05:30

The Day of the Choreo.

My friends warned me that no one would give me a second look if I wore such formal wear. I could have gone to an interview in that dress.

We walked to the Hospitality desk, collected the Daily Quiz, Brain Games, Crossword, Events Schedule and a little later the News Letter.

All this was more to look at who all were sitting near the Hospi more than to attempt any of them. We then walked all around the Bindaas Park and the Indraprastha and finally settled near the Light Music Preliminaries.

The Daily Quiz had several things that were taken from the Internet Movie Database. I didn't attempt to take a look at the Crossword because I haven't yet prepared for GRE, nor did I decide to so far.

I also understood why Pope didn't take me as a volunteer. Their work belonged to a different stratum and they had many insider sources everywhere. Also, I wouldn't have been able to search for words in the Oxford Thesaurus burning the mid-night oil. At least I sincerely hope, for their sake, that they didn't come up with all those words on their own.

The LM Prelims went very well. The people came well prepared to sing, though they didn't prepare to get prepared on the stage. Of about 10 minutes times given to each group, almost 6 were gone for settling themselves aboard. There were several energetic performances, and one guy in particular was considered Pop-star material by one and all. I was surprised to find so many of them coming up with their own compositions. They were very good, and not just because of our low expectations.

After lunch, I along with Adarsh walked into the Central Lecture Theatre for a lecture by Nagesh Kukunoor. He looked and talked in such a down-to-earthly manner, I actually took pity on him. Even I usually behave in a more pompous way. After a long interesting self-introduction(which followed a you-made-Kukunoor-blush-and-the-audience-bored introduction) we had a very interactive session where there were many good questions, and nearly no questions (thankfully) that are generally asked by the Page 3 journalists.

I later tried to get an autograph during which I found some students trying to butter Mr.Kukunoor, more to just have a dialogue. I couldn't get it as I backed away once again when someone announced that he was getting late for the Workshop on Film-making. I hope that the guy who took a page out from my Reminder pad could get it.

I tried to get into the workshop without registering, but it didn't work out. I should have tried again after another five minutes. The co-ordinator (RG Rao) is a good friend.

Nearly 90 minutes before the beginning of the show, thick lines formed outside the OAT gate. The Choreo Nite was going to begin. I passed away that time by insisting to stay in a line which was more onto the road, so that I could just do some eye exercises. It became more of a neck exercise, though.

I along with Adarsh, MCK, Krishna and Sriram finally sat down for the nite in a convenient place, beside a group of WCC students, which was even more convenient. I never saw the OAT so jam-packed. Suddenly, the day Indra was screened registered in my mind as a day with over one-third of absentees.

The WCC girls sitting beside us, for most of the time kept place for 6 of their friends; sometimes by even using our very own traditional ways of laying down a dupatta covering the place. We later saw that the place reserved was only for 4 friends, but one of them could occupy the space of 3 lissom lasses. Because of this woman, we didn't dare to question them even when a couple of these girls had to go away for long bouts of time.

There was no place for us, while we were trying not to cross over an LOC largely imagined by Krishna. We wanted them to give us more space at least till their friends come back. But Krishna was shy to ask them; he will be able to give you more seemingly justified reasons.

That was when I took the initiative. "Could you please move a little? We don't have place to sit here. We promise you to move back when your friends come." The woman I talked to looked pleasant, and almost willing to agree. But she opted for the counsel of her neighbouring friend who refused point-blank. "We don't believe you," was more or less her answer.

That took me for a great shock. This is the first impression that a woman gets when I speak! Then how in hell would I be able to take an initiative to make further advances? I later thought that I should have asked her the question. That would be good enough to bring up more conversation. I guess I had momentary testicular cancer at that time.

We just sat there. I kept taking glances at some of the girls sitting beside me, trying for one in particular. To my desperate eyes, at least four of them looked between good to very good. Too bad, today's girls mostly let their hair(however long it might be) fall across their faces.

The teams of all colleges danced very well. Most of them also took extra-ordinary care in various departments like Costumes, Sets and Themes. I later found out that they didn't take much care with the Props.

I enjoyed the show, more because all the crowds were interested in looking at the stage, or at least someone else worthy of attention in their surroundings.

Our group decided to give a college from Guntur the Most Entertaining Award. They just came to dance to the tunes of the latest hit telugu songs of tamil-dubbed movies. They had no theme, but who needs one to entertain the crowds?

Almost all the teams which had a theme(or wished they had one) brought a narrator along with them because they took for granted that no one would understand it otherwise. And they were competing against each other. I later heard that the iSoft stall passed around word that they are looking for more anchors with a catchy voice. The voice from their throats could choke your throats. The winners would later be trained under the current anchor. It might have been a rumor, but I won't be surprised if it turns out to be true. Though all these had uproarious voices, I prefer Janice because I can get away watching the antics of Chandler and Joey.

I don't remember the results much. But the absence of the usual Special Mention for the Hosts was conspicuous. Still, I thought that IITM team prepared well enough, much exceeding my expectations. They must have worked hard, having known that I would be staying this time. I later was to find out that they stood fifth.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Saarang 2006, Day 0

2006-01-25T21:00:00.000+05:30

The Day of Inauguration.

This Saarang, after three years, I have finally decided to live through it. I tell everyone I know about this being my first Saarang, and am so telling you to make it a full circle.

In addition, I share with you my conspiracy. I tell everyone that I am living through these 5(or 6) days, only because my friends miss my presence during these wonderful days of their life so much. The truth is that I have decided to stay because I wanted to. And perhaps, my friends actually do not miss me during these days. In a few days, they might even find me as a hindrance to their enjoyment. Don't let it out to them if you meet them.

Now that the decision was made, I thought that it would be better if I get paid to stay here. The only way was to become a volunteer, and I considering myself worthy tried to become a News Letter volunteer. This would involve writing about events, I was told. And I consider myself to be able do only that in my life, however bad or worse. I was refused to be taken in by the co-ordinator(Pope), an acquaintance. 4th years couldn't be taken. He perhaps found out how I didn't even know what Saarang means.

There was later a notice for Publishing volunteers. I didn't even mind trying. I decided to reject them once they already did it. An eye for an eye.

There being nothing else to do, I have come to the decision that I would do one thing that most IITians think should be done . . . bird-watching.

I went to the inauguration function. I even managed to take Krishna and Sriram along with me, who in their past 3 Saarangs never even thought of attending this. Went to the wrong venue first.

Found the venue almost on time. The Chief-guest was Rajiv Menon. Some Airtel Executive was a Special-guest. Both the Cultural Secretaries were seated on the opposite ends on the dais. I wondered if they were having a cold-war.

Blondie goofed up when he said that Merupu Kanavu(or whatever) was much-awaited, rather than much-acclaimed. Not his mistake. He didn't know the movie, perhaps not even Rajiv Menon. The mistake was that of the person who wrote the introductory speech.

When the Dean(Academics) Prof. Idechandy said, "I wonder why Mr.Menon didn't try acting," no one was surprised. He looked handsome, better than most youthful heroes today, much younger than his age. Perhaps the passion with which he does his work keeps him young.

Then came a by-now familiar witty speech by the Director, Prof. MS Ananth. It was followed by a speech by Mr.Menon, who became nostalgic during all of his time, while portraying his passion for cinematography with ease.

Then followed an advertisement by the Special-guest, who reminded me of Rakesh Roshan for most of the time. What else would one have expected? After all, Airtel is the main sponsor for Saarang 2006.

I felt that it would have been wiser had they asked the Special-guest to talk before the Chief-guest. An advertisement break at the end doesn't look good compared to one a little before the end, however unceremonious Saarang is supposed to be. The main goof-up during this time was a not-so-imperceptible exchange of smiles between the Dean(Academics) and the Cultural Secretary sitting beside him. I wonder whether it was directed at the advertisement director or the MC.

I later thought of getting an autograph from Mr.Menon, but for some reason backed away. I should have.

After walking out, we looked around everywhere, but to our dismay couldn't find much colour on the Day 0 of Saarang. Even my friends didn't know that the stars wouldn't come out until the next day.

Later, for the night, we went to the Classical Music show by the duo Kumaresh and Ganesh. I heard that it was great. I never heard what they played. Me and Sriram were concentrating on our mission, and later walked out because of some urgent matters inspite of the show.

We almost made one full round around the OAT. There were more stars watching the show than those across the sky above them. We then walked back to our hostel, while taking obviously longer roots. No, we weren't being careful about the darkness nor were we trying to be considerate to the nocturnals.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

I have been Growing Up

2006-01-18T22:00:00.000+05:30

Friends don't believe me when I say I have been improving every semester. I can understand. The figures don't show it.

For the first three semesters, may be they too thought that I was getting better. My CG climbed steadily.

Then started the fall. A spectacular one. It went on till I started getting E's. And reached a brink during the sixth semester with me barely scraping through some courses, and receiving a letter of concern from the Dean (Academics).

What an honor? I still remember when my school Principal once called me to his room, and had a brief chat. It was for a diametrically opposite reason.

I swelled with pride that time; I was about 10-years-old. Another decade later, in an opposite situation, though I didn't swell with pride, I didn't feel ashamed. I have certainly grown up.

The whole situation looked funny to me. Me having a chat with my faculty advisor. When he asked me what the problem was, in his usual way of interspersing any dialogue with his trademark chortles, I came up with some answer instantaneously. Though he might not have been satisfied with it, it made perfect sense to me.

All along I not only kept telling myself, but believed that I was getting better. Growing up. Knowing thyself. And to me, it mattered more than the grades and more than anything else.

Silly, isn't it? Just to discover about yourself, you don't need to take a break from everything else; you don't need to go to the forests, stand on a leg, and keep both your eyes closed while resisting to open them to see the beautiful apsarasas dancing around only to be able to see your eye-balls.

Also, I am supposed to get grades now. Growing up can wait. But if I don't study, my chances of getting a job or getting a good univ(or just any univ) or getting into IIMs are all gonna get screwed.

Still, I look around. Smile to myself. And tell to myself, "Nothing to worry. I am after all being different. And growing up."

Different is the word. Every fool of a film-maker says, "The audience can expect a different treatment in this film." I think that the day one in their herd says, "This is not going to be any different from what we have been seeing so far," that is going to be better.

But that might happen only when I stop flattering myself about my uniqueness. So take it for granted; the day is never going to come. I shall keep growing.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

2005 News Archives

2006-01-01T22:00:00.000+05:30

25th Nov 2005
My first part of the course material has been shipped in. Lots of organized work to do. So this is a reprieve for you all. I can't be blogging senselessly whenever I feel like anymore. And there are more to come. This semester rocks!!! I will tell you why later.

21st Nov 2005
I have enrolled myself in the Breaking into Print program being offered by Long Ridge Writers Group. Though the first dispatch of the material hasn't yet reached me(it will reach this week), I am already enjoying the program. It rocks!!!

31st Oct 2005
The results are out. Today the first thing I did was to read a mail from one of the editors of Strange Horizons, a wonderful site which publishes mainly some fantasy stuff, thanking me and appreciating me for my interest in their magazine while rejecting my story The Gods' Get-togethers.

I hope to have something published in it atleast in the future. Don't laugh! I know that its a long shot. Anyway, I didn't expect anything more.

All the friends who already read it said that it was not well-written. I too realized it later. A half-baked fantasy story can't be published in a full-fledged fantasy website(though not just that). It would be suicidal for them.

I am just glad that I didn't receive a howler from them, though it wouldn't have surprised me much either. So achtung! Read the story at your own risk.

Here is a new request. I know that no one writes comments, its too tiring to read the stuff in the first place. Try writing them for a change, especially if you have something good to say(I may choose to delete the comments if they are not pleasing enough). Thank You.

And don't write comments about how bad the new story, especially the ending, is. I already know that. Write something only if you think its going to be innovative enough.

16th Oct 2005
There is another story, that I can't post it yet because it is under(hopefully) review process at this moment by an editorial board. It becomes a violation of their Terms & Conditions. I shall post it once the result is out, which takes atleast 3 weeks time.

Perhaps, I can let out the name of the story ... The Gods' Get-togethers. Speculate on what crap it can possibly contain.

30th Aug, 2005 You can find the story at Virtual Digest. Still, there hasn't been any official confirmation about it. Never mind.

27th Aug, 2005
The short-story My Son's Murderer was submitted to Pustak Mahal, the self-proclaimed "India's largest publisher of mass appeal books on various topics" on 19th Aug of 2005. Though there hasn't been any official confirmation so far, there was a mail that read, "Nice to inform you that your story has been approved by our Editorial Board and it'll be posted to our wbsite very soon." from the website people.

Its a Wonderful Life

2005-12-06T22:00:00.000+05:30

Mr.A gave up in his life. He was so fed up, he wanted to end it. He thought that the most peaceful way would be to go and stand on the railway track. The death would be instant.

He started walking the last few steps towards his end. While walking to the nearby track, he shuddered when he thought about what would happen to his body once the train goes across him. He felt weak in his knees. But he regained composure - he was not ready to give up on death yet. He reassured himself that it wouldn't matter how his body looked like because he wouldn't feel a thing.

He was crossing the road which lay in between him and his terminator. He felt something hard hit him for a moment, air go out of his body in one puff. The next instant, he felt nothing.

He didn't dare to give more than a glance to his body once he left it. Though his body wouldn't have looked much different had he been hit by a passing train, he was happy. He didn't need to wait on the track for the train to come.

How must he have felt? Only a moment before, he was wishing to die and attempting to. Fate had it that he had his wish granted. There is a very good chance that the experience was exhilarating, but you never know. Or may be, he wished that fate was equally helpful when he was alive.

Mr.B wanted to change his job. He started looking for other avenues that interested him. He decided on one of them. He tried for it, and got an offer.

He now had to garner some courage to resign. The job he was already doing was peaceful, without much tension. Of course, it was without any excitement either. But he reasoned that the change would only help both - the boss and himself.

He decided to let it out the coming friday. Otherwise, a whole week of either his boss or himself would get spoiled. The boss was known for his moodiness. He thought, I shall make an offer that my boss can't refuse. I would say, "Let me go and we can shake our hands. Try to stop me and you will notice how difficult my stay is going to be - not just for me but also you." And this he would do in a pleasing manner, not brash.

The next day when he met the boss over some business matter, the boss said, "I make an offer to you. Find a job for yourself and resign here. Or I shall fire you."

The offer was great. But it was not exactly the way he wanted it to end. This offer looked like his presence was no longer needed for the boss. Surely, he didn't expect anything more. But still, the frankness stumped him.

How must he have felt? Only a moment before, he was thinking of making an offer to his boss. And he was made an offer by his boss. I was never in such a position, though in something strikingly similar, but I think fate was a bit harsh on him.

Now coming to my own situation. Right now, I think my situation is much better than Mr.B's. I too was made an offer, but my mentor didn't threaten to fire me. He simply asked me to leave if I wished to. May be, my mentor was only being more sugar-coated than Mr.B's boss. That too, the message was clear. Also, I too was thinking of making an offer to my mentor.

Compared to Mr.A, as I already mentioned, we never know. But I prefer to consider myself at a better position. Unlike him, I am not fed up with my life. I haven't given up yet, and I think I will never. More important, I am alive and he isn't. I have the chance to commit suicide(Don't worry readers! I never even have such thoughts seriously. Never.) and he doesn't. As Jimmy Stewart said, "Its a Wonderful Life."

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Not Reserved

2005-11-28T22:00:00.000+05:30

Ramesh had to make a big decision when he was barely 17yrs old. It all came suddenly when his dad made a startling announcement. “I want you to write your entrances in the General category,” he said, one morning without preamble. It looked more like a directive than a wish. The time was close to the last dates of submission of applications for various exams.

Ramesh was a Bi.P.C student. He wanted to be a doctor and he was taking coaching for various entrance exams. Though it never really mattered, he was a SC student. He was pretty sure that he could get a good seat somewhere through the seats reserved for his category.

Rajan Peddi, Ramesh’s father, was a very experienced lecturer in a junior college. Saying he was ‘good’ at teaching, would be a gross understatement. When he was newly married, he told his wife that he or his family would not use the SC certificates for any purpose in the future. And that they would only be used to support their previous claims. He earned well all the years, at least enough to lead a comfortable life.

After being fraught with the problem, Ramesh decided to go in the open and confront his dad. He said, “I belong to this category. And the GOVT. approves of the reservations. So what’s your problem with this?”, though not in so many words. He thought of saying exactly that but it was difficult. But the feelings were expressed alright.

Rajan was expectant of this. He asked, “I understand what the GOVT. approves of. But do you think you deserve it?”

“I don’t care. You have no right to play with my career at such a crucial time,” shot Ramesh. He bit his tongue immediately because the second statement was taking things too far. He immediately turned his head down, as if he found something interesting on the floor.

Rajan wondered whether he made a mistake by not listening to his wife that day. “Why tell them and have an argument sometime? Why not simply keep them ignorant that we are of SC,” she suggested. He thought that it would be unwise. It was not a problem that the children might know it from someone else. They didn’t have those many relatives at all. He just believed that he needed to be open with his children, no matter what. Surely listening to his wife’s advice would have been a much easier, if not better solution.

“We have no rights. Only responsibilities,” he thought to himself wryly.

“You are just anxious. Cool down a bit and think about it. Then tell me whether you need this or not,” he asked his son.

Ramesh declined to listen. He said that he could not be convinced no matter what.

Rajan pleaded for more time. “You are incapable of thinking logically right now, and I can understand it. So give me a little time. I will wait till you can think properly. Meanwhile, I need to prepare myself in my attempt to convince you,” he said.

Ramesh walked to his room without lifting his head, wondering how far he went across the line. His mother was shocked with the way her son talked, but she was forewarned by Rajan about it and was asked to say nothing regarding it. Rajan went to his desk in the study room, with a mixed look on his face – satisfaction that his son asked the questions he knew he would ask, surprise that he asked them and eagerness as if to set an examination paper for the coming half-yearly exams. And that was what Rajan exactly did.

The next morning before going to the college, after breakfast, Rajan gave Ramesh a pink envelope which looked like the cover of a greeting card. He instructed, “There is a small set of questions in this. Please think about them and try to answer them for yourselves. I don’t give you any time limit because this is more important than the entrances you are going to write, in my opinion. If your opinion still is the same, come to me. I will give you the SC certificate that you will need.”

Very typical of Rajan, it was. He gave a question at the end of the class each day and it didn’t need any paper or pen. It could be done while walking back home or while rolling around before going to sleep. His lessons too were full of questions he posed and made the students to answer. Some of his other colleagues tried the same style, without much success. They would either pose questions which looked direct-from-the-text-book or in the process of asking questions deviate a lot from the topic, covering almost nothing in the syllabus during that one period. Rajan had a knack of asking the right questions and keeping his students’ minds on the path.

Ramesh knew about his father’s ability. He trusted him and so waited till he came back from coaching that night. He opened the envelope and found a white sheet with 4 questions. Preceding them were a few instructions which he was already given. There was just one extra instruction though – “Try to think about all the questions in one sitting.”

Ramesh found the following questions:
1. When you play cricket, why do you let Sandesh play till he loses his wicket twice? (Sandesh was Ramesh’s 8yr old kid brother.)
2. Can you see why reservations for weaker sections were introduced?
3. You too played like Sandesh in the past. Do you, any more? Why?
4. Do you think you deserve a seat through reservation now?

It didn't take long for him to find the answers. But it was just nonsense. He knew all this, and this was not the right time to consider it. He burst into his father’s room and asked, “Didn’t these certificates ever help you?”

Rajan showed him to sit and calmly replied, “This was the way I got my job first. Your grandpa was poor and so he couldn’t send any of his sons to a much higher education. We used it for our fee subsidies till whatever education we had, of course. But this was not my choice. It was my dad’s. He couldn’t pay us in any other way. Once I got my job, I never used it for any purpose than as a proof for previous claims.”

“But …,” Ramesh tried to say something. He didn’t know what it was, either.

“But your dad is different. I can pay your fees without subsidies. I can pay for your coaching classes. I can look after my family’s needs. I don’t need any other help from the GOVT. I already got it in the form of my first job. And you, you may belong to the ‘weaker sections’ but you are not weaker than any of the other people in any way I can think of. And you too know some of them, who are ‘weaker’ than us.”

“Why just us? No one else does it. I have so many friends I know whose dads don’t do any thing like this.”

“You would be surprised at how many such I know of. Trust me, I am not the first. I am not a leader. I am just following a path that I liked. I will show you some of them next time.”

“Fine. But why now? This can ruin my career. Why can’t we do it just like you, maybe after I become a doctor?”

“Surely, this is a big decision to make. But this is big only because it is to be made at this time. Making the same after some other time may not be this big, though I appreciate even that. You say I am ruining your career. But don’t you think you are ruining the careers of some of your friends who had exactly the same opportunities as you had till now? Anyway as you said, it is your life and your career. I have no rights on it. Thank you for reminding me that. And here is the certificate that you are looking for,” he gave it to his son.

Ramesh started walking out of the room when Rajan said, “We don’t need to follow Gandhiji’s talisman. But it would be nice if we can atleast spare some thought for our neighbours before taking a decision, especially when they are so close to us. You are old enough to make decisions on your own,” and continued reading whatever he was reading before Ramesh barged in, as though there was never any interruption.

Ramesh walked back to his room. He was guilty of what he did, but only because he was being made to feel that way. He didn’t see anything wrong in what he was doing, as there wasn’t. He tried to look cheerful later but continued to be eternally in a brown study.

A few days later, one night while he was walking alongside Pramod on their way back from the coaching, Pramod asked, “Do you think we can still be at the same place after this year?”
Pramod was Ramesh’s best friend. They were together since they were about 5yrs old. They lived nearby, went to the same schools, had similar ambitions, and got more or less the same marks.

Suddenly Ramesh had a feeling that even though they both get a similar rank in the entrance, Ramesh was going to get a better seat than Pramod. Only because Pramod didn’t belong to the ‘weaker section’. No one needed to make him feel guilty this time. He felt like the person who was going to stab his closest friend behind his back. He remained silent till they reached Pramod’s place.

While Pramod was going his way Ramesh said, “We shall hope to get it at the same place. We both shall try our best.”

They exchanged their good byes and went back to their places.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Girls I Remember: 5. The Girl in the Reservation Complex

2005-11-21T22:00:00.000+05:30

21st Nov 2005

Things couldn't have been worse. The previous night, I didn't sleep. I was first too involved in some work(Not kidding!) and it got very late. And the work happened to be so lousy that I got pissed off and sent a howler to my group-mates. I didn't have sleep, though I tried to catch a little today morning. I felt like(though didn't act like) Jack Torrance in Stephen King's(& later Stanley Kubrick's) The Shining.

After whatever sleep I could get, I hurried to have my lunch in about 5 minutes and from there to the class. My last class in the semester. And then there was this Industrial Lecture by Mr. Subba Rao(Our Indian John Bull) who was from SETLabs(Infosys). His talk on Grid Computing was so crappy that I won't be surprised if Himanshu Shrimali is now in the hospital undergoing treatment for literal pain in the arse. It was supposed to be 1hr long, and it went on for almost 2hrs. And this was inspite of the visibly bored audience; some of them dozing off, some of them laughing(for nothing else to do), some of them sending around messages(I hope none made any phone calls) and some others playing Hollywood or tic-tac-toe or whatever(including yours truly).

It was already late, and we were hungry. So we went to the nearby Gurunath(Sharavati) and had some fodder. I remember a conversation at that time about why we need to go and book out tickets while we could get some middleman to do it. I found a satisfying reason for myself today, later. I was sure that it would be late by the time I come back, and what is more, I have my end-semester exam in Introduction to European Philosophy. There were better situations I have been in. Somehow, we(me & Krishna) made it to the Besant Nagar Reservation Complex by around 1720hrs.

This time, it was his turn to stand in the line. I was sitting on a nearby mesh chair, gazing at the long queue. And then I saw her! Just a glimpse, but that was enough. I kept trying to look at her whenever possible, without being too subtle and at the same time without being too obvious. Krishna later told me that there was a more beautiful woman sitting right beside me(whom I barely noticed), but I don't regret that a bit.

She was wearing a regular maroon dress(I have seen many similar ones till now). She was a couple of inches shorter than the average kind. She looked slim, but certainly not skinny. And she was wearing no heels! This tends to catch my attention every time. I like it this way, and perhaps this means that she was of the average height actually. Her face was almost circular, and was small. All her features were small, like herself, but they were not disproportionate. She would have looked much better, had her mood been any better. I wouldn't call her an angel. But she certainly was pretty. And we don't get to see such people in the place I live.

She kept coming closer to me(moving forward in the queue). And then I thought once again. These days, I have been feeling that looking at them is not wrong(unless you are causing them any inconvenience). And the idea of talking to them doesn't look outrageous anymore. Saying something like "I love you" still does. I think it always will, because I know that I can't fall in love at first sight. I wonder if I can every fall in love at all, but lets not be too pessimistic.

After sometime, I decided that I would talk to her. Just say, "You look beautiful". A harmless complement. A more sensible Me would have thought, "So what? She knows it. And so do everyone else with atleast one good eye." And true. I just can't make such conversations which are going to be useless to everybody. I would rather keep my silence. Atleast I never struck up a conversation with a complete stranger while knowing that we would certainly not be together for more than a few hours, unless when it was started by the other. Even in the latter occasions, I confess that I have not been congenial most of the time; though I haven't been rude either.

But these days, I have this urge. This urge that tells me, "If you want to improve your soft skills, try with these. Its going to help." And I am willing to do that.

Anyway, when I decided that I would talk to her; there came this guy from nowhere(Typical film ishtyle, I know. But don't you think that had this been fiction, this would have come under the short stories heading?). He was actually along with her. Infact, he wasn't from nowhere. I stood behind him in the kiosk queue a few minutes back. So I knew a part of their story, and I imagined the remaining.

They both conversed in what sounded like hindi. She was playing the role of a damsel in distress. I imagined that he is the cause of that distress. What a chance I would have had to help her out! This was what I understood(including more imagination than you would think necessary).

The guy was actually from Patna. She was from somewhere north to Patna. They both are friends here. In the holidays, he wants to take her to his place for a few days. She agreed to go for a couple of days. If she went along with him, it was compulsory for her to stay for almost a week, for the lack of trains(or seats). She obviously wasn't fine with it, and wanted him to find a way out. But the way out was perhaps in the hands of Indian Railways.

Boy, I was glad that I wasn't in his situation! Atleast for that moment. I mean, being her friend would be marvellous. But he was doing some messenger service for her. He went to the kiosk(where the seats availability can be checked) atleast four times. He was moving around to and fro. And she was simply acting distressed. She also was in what me and my brother call "cold war" with him. I wonder if I had a feeling of guilty satisfaction when that guy was in the situation!

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

A Common Irritant for the Opposite Sex

2005-10-23T21:00:00.000+05:30

These days, I see myself becoming more and more audacious. I hurt so many people consciously, many that I know and a few that I do not. I am a tee-totaler but this is an obvious case of Dutch courage. This phase, I sometimes wonder, should have passed when I was much younger. I don't deny the phase that came in the past, it only seems to be re-surfacing. And I know this won't stop here.

Luckily none these wounds are physical or long-lasting. Even for someone with a great memory, I think(and hope) these memories don't last long.

Coming to the point, how many of you ever did some beatu koTTuDu(Bird-Watching, for the ignorance of a better word)? Its quite common in movies(especially teen). I heard that this happens in all colleges, and I heard some of my own friends talking about their own escapades. Though its not non-existent, its not rampant either.

People say that the activity is totally harmless, but its only as long as it doesn't aggravate to some serious eve-teasing. I personally never came across this situation. My close circle till now has always been so inactive that I never saw anyone even remotely take part in anything like that. They seem to be changing too with there being a lot of discussion about such things, though it is all wistful thinking.

I claim the credit for being the first to progress. Today, I had a free MOCK-CAT by T.I.M.E., an extremely ill-organized exam about which I don't want to elaborate. But, before the exam started everyone were free for almost an hour. It was during this time that it happened.

I was sitting near a window of one classroom. The room was filled by then and so students started going to another class, a window of which could be very clearly seen from my window.

A girl, whom I happen to know and now wish doesn't know me, came and sat near that window. Lets name her Ms., for the sake of withholding her identity(there might even be problems from my own friends if they know what I did). We both could see each other without any difficulty.

I don't know why I started it, but I kept staring at Ms.. I guess I was bored to death, to sit in the classroom where 3 sat at each bench. We were supposed to write an exam for God's sake!

After awhile, she started looking towards me too, because her class didn't even have many students by then. It didn't take long for her to figure out what I was doing, though I certainly don't know it even now.

First it was just some regular pride, I thought. Its only natural for us to be proud, when we are the centre of attraction. Just to make sure that I am still staring, she kept looking at me surreptitiously. She was one of the famous figures in our batch, and I can tell for a fact that this was not unusual for her. Friends tell me often that they covet it very much - attention. Show me someone who doesn't!

In the second phase, contempt came too. Contempt for me, for a fool who was gaping at someone as if she were a martian.

In the third phase, it was pure uneasiness. She started looking at me even more frequently to check whether the freak was still so mesmerized(This is not ture). She didn't care if they were no longer surreptitious.

In the fourth phase, it was panic. She was being freaked out by a freak. I wonder why she didn't leave the window seat and go elsewhere. I remember the class being far from filled. Maybe, it was a seat which carried some sentiment for her.

All along, its difficult even for me to believe it now, I almost didn't even bat my eye-lids. It was more like one of those typical conversations between Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Agent Clarence Starling. Strange, that we both were separated by grills(I know that they were mostly glasses there) even here. OK. Lets leave that horrifying comparison at that point.

Krishna, sitting beside me, disturbed me. And saved her. We had nothing else to do, and so started talking about my adventure. He was sure that she would come over here and slap me, and so immediately cut off whatever ties we had till then. Though I was sure that I could stop that from happening, I am thankful that I didn't need to.

What was I thinking at that time? Perhaps, I was trying to do something so that I could boast to my friends. How immature! And I am supposed to be becoming more and more mature. I certainly was very much excited. Though I am not the kind who doesn't get happiness by intimidating the more vulnerable(I really am not.), I was all geared up to go to extremes.

Ms. had a pathetic look. She was certainly disturbed greatly. And I know for a fact that she is not the one who chickens out so easily. I now wonder how this affected her exam!

All along I was like a smug S.O.B, so sure of myself, that she couldn't do anything. And I was glad that I was exercising my power remotely! At that point I was also sure that I was doing nothing wrong legally. She couldn't prove a thing.

Whatever happened to all my upbringing, my culture, my humanity! What would my parents feel like, if they ever know this(which is not very difficult)? I feel devastated now, more than Ms. might have felt because of me.

If she ever goes in the open and takes the case to the law or to the management, its unfortunate that I can say this with great conviction, "She won't win the case." There is no law being broken, I don't know about the ethical code(which by the way happens to be debatable). I can deny it(a right of the accused), and my past speaks volumes about my conduct. There is no evidence, and the question, "Why then will Ms. simply accuse particulary you when you did nothing," is something I feel is more damaging for her, than me.

So here its, Ms.. Though its very unrealistic, if it ever comes to that, I will accept all your accusations and plead guilty. I am ready to face any consequences. I am ashamed of what I did then, and am proud of what I am doing now. I owe this - to you, to my parents, to the world and to my conscience.

With my heart-felt apologies,
Sravan

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Artist - Mother or Creator?

2005-10-16T21:10:00.000+05:30

I have a very close friend Chandu who is a budding artist. He does some adorable work, atleast sometimes. And he is extremely passionate about it. About a month back I was excited, almost as much as he was, when he told me that one of his works would be exhibited along with other works of other artists in a local exhibition. Though I myself didn't ever hear of the exhibition(it was a local one), he being an art aficionado told me that it was more than prestigious enough for someone unestablished like him. I thought that even something not very popular should be good enough for a beginner, and I was happy for him.

Poor fellow, he was sharing the wonderful news with almost anyone he ever knew. He just couldn't stand or sit at a position for more than a moment. I could very much relate myself to it after the news about my story submission reached me. It certainly was more than just something.

One day when I was along with him, we came across Prasad, another friend. When the news was shared with him, he simply asked, "Is it great"?

I could understand it immediately because I knew how Prasad was like.

When he saw Chandu's crest-fallen look on his face he said, "I am very sorry. I simply do not know its significance. You know very well that I am not a sucker for arts and all that, not even remotely. Anyway, hearty congratulations. When is the party?"

Chandu recovered immediately and said, "I can understand. Thank you very much. Tell me when you are free and we can go have the party, a small one though. You know, the next time I have something bigger, I need to give a bigger party? And so, I want to start it small."

Chandu was never like that before. He never celebrated his birthday. Now, he was giving treats to almost anyone who even made a mention of it. And some others who didn't, as well. I didn't mind as I was giving him company in every such treat. God knows how much the exhibition people paid him! I hope that its not the other way round, with the artist himself/herself paying the exhibition as a fee. I never asked, thinking that it would be a bit impolite.

"But there's one thing. You should make time to see my work before you get the treat. I know you are busy and so can give you as much time as you want," Chandu told Prasad.

He later told me, "There is a kick when someone who doesn't admire your work by default also happens to be your friend." I understood it very well. It would do him good because there could be some valuable comments from that side. I myself can't make those for obvious reasons. I start observing with a good impression first, though I too try to be frank with my comments. But Prasad on the other hands is one known to have never minced his words.

After a few days, Prasad somehow found time to come and look at Chandu's work. "It looks decent. That too, you are an amateur. You must have worked very hard, for a very long time," he said.

"Thank you very much. It took me several days to come up with the whole idea, and finally almost 9hrs to complete the final thing. I mean, I had to do it almost 3 times to get some finer points right. Still, I can find some mistakes in usage of colours and shades here and there. Particularly that thing is glaring," pointing to one corner of the painting, "Anyway, such things I guess are all part of the game," he said.

That was the problem with him. When someone said that it was nice, why try to show off by saying that you find mistakes in it? I mean, that can be done at a later point as a retrospection. But no. And this only fueled Prasad's true nature.

"I don't know whether you noticed this or not. The usage of those particular shades at that place," pointing to one part of it, "created a sense of philosophical irony there," he said. "I am not sure whether it was intentional or not."

That did it. Chandu spoke to me only the previous night, admiringly about his usage of shades at the same point. I didn't understand it much, but I nodded my head along and tried to hide my inability there, for some reason.

"You are right. That was very nice of you to notice it," Chandu replied and started walking out.

He did nothing to hide his anger. Prasad chose to leave it unnoticed. We both exchanged our "Bye"s and I ran out trying to catch up with Prasad. He happens to walk briskly when he is too angry.

"What nonsense? You can't control yourself even that much? What was all that about? Sure, your thing was intentional. So what? He didn't say that it should have been unintentional. He only suggested a possibility because he thinks very highly of that point. That's indeed good," I told him.

"You are talking nonsense now. He wondered whether it was intentional. He means that I am not capable of coming up with such a thing on my own," he said glaringly.

"You look at it pessimistically. That way, everything looks like someone's fault," I said.

"And you too know that being pessimistic is being realistic when it comes to Prasad," he retorted.

I couldn't deny it. I knew what exactly Prasad meant. But you have been proud of yourself, on cloud nine, for so long and you take someone(who doesn't even appreciate the significance of such things)'s words as the Bible? Artists can be so emotional, so fragile giving importance to such insignificant things. I was certain that Chandu's day was ruined by the remark. It was good to some extent that this happened during the night. And I hoped that he would be normal the next day, after a good ... sorry, bad night's sleep. Chandu was very emotional, and he himself derived pride from that fact. He said that artists needed to be sensitive, to react to the surroundings, blah blah blah.

"What is the big deal? You yourself talked about the mistakes you made," I said.

"I still acknowledge them. And I don't mind if he pointed out more mistakes. I would infact be grateful in such an event."

"So what's the problem? You are like a mother to your work. And you must be proud of it. Doesn't matter what others think," I said. I don't even know how I could have said such a thing. This dialogue on retrospection seems so heavy coming from me, but that was a good thing because of what followed.

"Not a mother. A creator," he corrected.

"What's the difference," I asked him out of curiosity. I also thought that this would let me try diverting the topic.

"A mother likes her child inspite of all its shortcomings. Perhaps, she would like her very successful daughter and not-so-successful son alike. She might even like the not-so-successful son more because she feels that the son may need her help. A creator, on the other hand, likes his/her work for all its merits. The mother takes no credit for her child. The creator takes credit for all the merits. It is the credit that inspires the creator to create more amazing stuff," he professed.

"Prasad is taking away some credit from my work. That was a fine point regarding which I spent a lot of time. I find it nearly wasted, my energy lost. What if everyone else think that all the merits of my creation were just by accident?"

He didn't need to tell me more, nor did he tell. I thought that the situation was erudite for me, and silently thanked Prasad for giving it to me. And I left Chandu, to give him his much required personal moments. It didn't matter what happened till then and how it all came about, those few words are still ring in my ears.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: NEWS

2005-10-16T21:00:00.000+05:30

I am back. Gosh, I can feel those grimaces of disgust across your faces! You must be thankful that I didn't update this for over 45 days. And I had plans of spending twice the amount I previously spent on writing this. Anyway, I come with good news for you which means bad news for me.

Some of you guessed it and some others already know. My hitherto hiatus was because of some more important and less pleasant necessities that I had to attend. And these won't go away. I won't be able to write, atleast not these dreams. I didn't say anymore. Don't be so cruel. Its not going to stay this way forever. But I know that the suspension is going to be a lot longer than brief. And the next time the phoenix rises, its going to be young with lots of brutal strength.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 48. The Swamiji

2005-08-14T21:00:00.000+05:30

I am back. It has been over a month that I posted something here. When I had access to a computer, I couldn't access net. When I now have access to net, I don't have a computer. You seem to be getting luckier. But that only means that a bigger wave of misfortune shall follow. Coming to the point, I have been dreaming as usual, as I sleep for most of the time I can find. Some were extremely interesting. Today morning, I had one such.

It was drizzling at IITM. The place looked pleasant - cool, clean and green. I wondered if I was staying at some hill station as there was a valley by the roadside. I, along with a friend Raghunath were going to a class. This is very weird as we don't have any classes together. Then we were joined by Ravi Chandra, which is weirder as Raghu and Ravi are not even acquaintances. We were cycling along the never-ending road. The buildings could never be seen.

After cycling for a while, I noticed that I was alone. My two friends stopped somewhere along and went in a different direction where the road forked earlier. I went back to see where they went. After going a little distance along that other road, I found their two cycles parked along with several other cycles by the roadside. I left my cycle there and went in search of my friends.

I found steps down the valley. I went along and after a few turns along those steps, I found what was happening. The place, I later found out to be the abode of some Swamiji. I forgot his name, but I remember it being very funny. His actual name was Padmanabhan. He happened to be a beggar. There were several people in the place facing a wall and praying. I found my two friends. There was another friend Anirudh already there. Strange. Anirudh, I know is an atheist. I amn't sure about the other two.

When I went closer, I found that they were all infact worshipping a person, not the wall. Sitting near the wall was the Swamiji. He was wearing some extremely filthy rags. His side profile - the right half, could only be seen. His right ear looked extremely distorted. I found that several people who were worshipping him, also had some part of their face distorted.

It was spooky. I don't remember anything that followed. I hope it was nothing like anukokunDa oka roju, despite several striking similarities.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Hope against Hope

2005-07-10T21:00:00.000+05:30

The phrase derives from the Bible (Romans 4:18):
Saint Paul is writing about Abraham,
'Who against hope believed in hope, that he might become the father of many nations, according to that which was spoken.'

I used the phrase a few times, but always felt that it was more appropriate to use a phrase like Hope against reality. Still, I prefer the original phrase. It makes lesser sense literally, but inexplicably has more beauty and simplicity.

The current generation of students, especially the science and technology students tend to question things. They need reasons, for whatever reasons. I am a kind of an exception, for my own reasons but we shall talk about it later. Only yesterday, I think one of my friends in a way questioned even this.

Most of us, atleast due to the omnipresent chain mails and forwards must be knowing 'the 4 candles' message. That even if the 3 candles representing peace, faith and love are extinguished; they can be relit with the last candle representing hope.

Hope. I suddenly doubt how many of us have been doubting hope. Its rather unfortunate, in my view, to doubt its power. I believe, not because I have read about or heard about or have known about it, but because I can feel it, that hope has a great potential. Potential for what?

Hope is one of the slowest transmissible diseases that I know of, though I know very few others such. But the transmissibility, however fast or slow, makes it special. We have a number of movies on this concept, and I won't bore you with further elucidations.

A problem with the questions posed is that, we like realistic answers. Just like we like our movies to be. Should we understand that emotions or beliefs need to obey no laws, especially the physical ones? May be.

Its when we get obsessed with reality that the main problem in hoping against hope comes. Because, as mentioned earlier it is hoping against reality actually.

A person knows that people wouldn't believe what (s)he says. But it is hope against hope that makes him/her make an attempt to make them believe.

I know that people do not read my blogs except when I write about girls, as my friends have frankly expressed. But it is hope against hope that makes me keep writing the other crap.

A small child knows that his father will not come back until the weekend. But it is hope against hope that makes him search the road while sitting on the porch, for his father.

You know that I can go on, but the point has been made. All the people in the examples know what is possible and what is not in reality. They still have hope. Are these fools? If they were, I hope that they remain fools forever. Because it is not just the result, but the attempt to make believe, write, and search that gives happiness and pleasure to the person, myself and the child respectively - it is the journey. Isn't it better to derive happiness by hoping against hope, than to answer ourselves that it is not possible in the reality?

If anyone is still reading unfortunately, I present a weird theory. I am not immodest enough to boast that I am the first one. I know several people who also have this theory.

Suppose that there is a beautiful movie - a feel-good one, if you know what I am saying. In it, there is something anti-climactic at the end. You would have liked it to be in an opposite way. But it doesn't stop you from loving the movie. You cry each time you see it, but you never miss a chance to watch it when it is screened in some channel. Though I hate to question, what if I say why do you still like it? Atleast why don't you skip seeing the climax?

I think that a very possible answer is that you have a feeling deep within, I know-not of its address where, of hope. Hope that atleast once, the climax is in the way you would have wanted it to be. You know that its not going to change. But you hope to see it the way you want some day, the final day. The time it really happens, will be the last time you might watch the movie. I think Roman Holiday is a perfect example.

I know a few people who confessed to having such feelings. I hope that there are quite a number of people, who make those confessions in the dark and to themselves. I feel that there are still others, who are not really sure if such feeling exists. They question its possibility, and it becomes even more difficult to come out.

When I said this to some of my friends for the first time, they ridiculed me. I held my tongue immediately and cursed myself for being so brash at presenting theories.

I now confess that I don't know why I am writing all this. May be its hope against hope that there is some person lurking among you readers, who would believe my theory. Of course, the reason could be the readers' misforture. It can never be denied. I couldn't talk about it anymore, after I made the mistake of coming out with it publicly. So the only option of venting it out, is to write it here. I am done for now.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 47. A Play from the Bible

2005-07-09T21:00:00.000+05:30

Another day, another sleep, another dream. This was odd. A melodramatic one, with no action at all. Though I didn't mind it.

The whole dream was about a theatre. Plays were regularly played at that theatre, and I was a major producer of these plays. There was one play, my troupe was famous for. It was some sort of a story taken from the Bible.

The whole village, where the theatre was the only means of entertainment praised the play whenever it was played.

One day, came the problem. The theatre owner, or some very powerful person wanted me to bring an entirely new cast for the play. I didn't agree with him. My cast was brilliant. It had been doing the play for ages. Their lives would be jeopardised, if they were thrown out so suddenly. So would the future of the play.

I think I had no other way than to follow the person's orders. I don't know what happened later, but I now think that at the end of the dream I could bring back my old cast.

This is extremely strange as I have no acquaintance with any of the surrounding of the dream. I know almost nothing about villages, I know nothing of plays - I never saw one, I don't know if there is a producer for every play and I never read the Book.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 46. Naseeruddin Shah

2005-07-08T21:00:00.000+05:30

A slightly long break again. I have had a few dreams in that period, but you have been fortunate again. I don't remember even this one well.

In the dream, I don't remember seeing myself anywhere. Such dreams have been increasingly occuring to me. The dream looked like a movie. Perhaps, I was watching the movie. I might have been so involved that I never noticed myself or the surroundings but only the movie.

The movie was an art film, I think. The protagonist was Naseeruddin Shah. Strange. Though, I love and respect his acting I don'tthink I was such a big fan. Nor am I now.

In the movie, he was a thief in the beginning. I suddenly had a feeling that the beginning scene looked like something remotely similar to Ocean's Eleven. But now, I know that it was just my imagination. He is caught red-handed I think. Because, the rest of the movie as far as I can remember took place in a jail.

It was not another film about a hero and his hardships in a jail. But somehow similar. I don't remember. At one point, Mr.Shah's character was uncontrollable. He was in an excited state, in a bad way.

And there came Nana Patekar. I think he was the jailor or something like that. He looked cool, totally in control of situation. He didn't worry about the ruckus being made by Mr.Shah. He simply offered his junior some money as a reward if he brought the situation under control. This struck me as extremely odd. Was it a casting mistake? Mr.Shah being uncontrollable and Mr.Patekar being so cool. Very uncharacteristic. I would have expected either the casting or the acting in the opposite way.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Why don't I argue?

2005-07-03T21:00:00.000+05:30

Not 5 days ago, I argued a lot with a closest friend. It was a neutral topic. An argument over "Are Jeevi's movie reviews good enough?", put in a more generalised fashion, "How much story should a review spill out?". Leaving the details, it suffices to know that I ended the argument. And how? I just said, "That's enough. We'll leave it there." I shall bore you with my opinions about the subject itself, sometime in the future. For now you are relieved.

How long did we argue? Not even for about fifteen minutes, and we had ample time to go on. But I realized something in the midway and kept a full-stop. What was it? A lesson that I have learnt before, that I know, that I keep re-learning every now and then like many others. That I should not argue.

I seldom argue. Even that, I do with only one person in this world. No one else. Leaders argue. Enemies argue. Friends argue. People argue. But I don't argue. I shouldn't argue.

Arguments, many wise people say, free us from ignorance. There, it seems, is someone's ignorance behind every argument. Arguments between friends are known to throw light upon truths. Still, I should not argue.

Once in a blue moon, some of us friends come across one of the many senselessly sensible topics. Its very rare, but it happens. Then people start arguing. I try(atleast desire) to be the most passive participant. The others argue vehemently.

Sometimes it may so happen that there are only two persons arguing, one being myself. "Lets talk", the other says. Nothing extreme. Nothing fanatic. A moderate tone. No friendships would be broken. No harm at all. In that case, if I am still in my mind I say, "You do the talking. I shall listen." The other says, "No problem. We shall take it easy. Just for a short while." I would say, "Ok. The argument ends here." So mean. So brutal. I must be. Because, I should not argue.

We only take neutral topics. With no apparent truths. Just a bunch of opinions. They why shouldn't I argue? Because, I have come to an opinion that there is no use of it. I don't argue because I can't. Quite simple.

I argued a number of times in the past. Never did I win. Never did I convince the others to take up my stance. Not because the others were obstinate. Its only that my points are never good enough. Nor did they convince me. Though I can't deny that it never happened, I don't remember being convinced either. This might be because of my obstinacy, my narrow-mindedness.

Almost always, we only come to one conclusion. That all parties can continue with their own opinions. So long as we respected each other's opinions, and didn't fight over them, there couldn't be any problem. That means that there won't be any problem.

Almost always, these arguments leave me sore. Because convincing oneself don't win arguments. I may be an arrogant, poor and ignorant soul. Still, I have my pride, much to the wonder of my friends. And this pride gets wounded every time I fail to win an argument. It keeps re-insisting the well-known fact that I can't argue, that I can't convince. For what means, I know not.

Why argue, and wound my pride? When I can happily keep my convictions to myself, just like many others. Most of these are anyway harmless, which ever way the opinions might be. What kind of a person argues at the cost of his/her pride? Perhaps a wise one, perhaps a knowledge-thirsty one. I don't belong to either of the categories anyway. Thank God!

Still, I can't keep the lid forever. Every now and then I am compelled to argue, just like we are all compelled to let out the various fluids flowing in the body. I know I can do nothing about it, than to say, "Ok. Its the end of the argument.", after I overcome the urge, after I wound my pride. The lid can be replaced for a little longer after that again.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 44. Police Story

2005-06-15T21:00:00.000+05:30

Angry about becoming Angry

2005-06-05T21:00:00.000+05:30

About 5 days ago, I became angry. My anger was so great that it was less than one letter away from danger.

A small kid, of about 12yrs hurt me. My hands still ache while I am writing this. But he was only playing. Games played by kids, they could be a bit dangerous without intending to be. He knew while playing with my hands that he was hurting me. But he didn't have even the faintest idea that the wound would last longer than a few minutes.

At that time, I was mean in my mind and in reality. I didn't give him the happiness he wanted to extract by hurting me. He was only surprised about it and went away with dissatisfaction in his eyes. After he went away, I was happy that he didn't get his happiness. After some time, I realized that I was wounded more than we both would have liked. The pain was sharp and irritating, nearly unbearable.

I was boiling. My eyes searched for him. He was playing all around. I cursed him, swore like never before. I imagined myself slapping him real hard. Then I imagined holding his hair and moving him around violently and then smashing his head into a nearby wall. Finally, I imagined kicking him in his stomach so hard that his cries were ringing in my ears.

It took me sometime to come back from my imagination. Then, I started cursing myself. He was a small kid. He didn't know that he was hurting me in that way. Oscar Wilde couldn't have been more correct when he said, "A man can't be too careful in the choice of his enemies."

Moreover, I always took pride in having a great self-control and under-playing emotions. I was ashamed. I was hurt once again, this time the wound being only deeper. I became anxious about my capabilities. I knew that my anger would have become dangerous to both of us. And that it had a capability to be dangerous to many more in the future.

It took me a long time to come back to normalcy from this self-deprecating mood. What I did wasn't wrong. I must perhaps be proud of my actions.

In all the suffering, in all the pain, I controlled myself. Sure, I was angry within. But I didn't show it to anyone else. I am no saint to never become angry. At the same time, I have the ability to control my anger. I only need to channel my anger to get rid of it in harmless ways. Still, I should be able to do without those dreadful imaginations as well in the future. That could leave me in greater peace.

Later, I also called the boy and told him about the problems that could arise with his game. He understood and was sorry, though he tried to putthe blame on myself for not being more resistant at the beginning. I was just trying to get respect in my own eyes.

That day, I learnt a lesson again. I learnt it several times in the past too. That I don't need to be angry about becoming angry. I only need to be able to get rid of it safely.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Attention!

2005-06-03T21:10:00.000+05:30

Just have a look at the following link:
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/meet_rhea/detail?.dir=eda1&.dnm=b159.jpg&.src=ph

I am quite sure that Indians reading this post will understand the anguish experienced by the person (Is it Ms. Rhea?). Recently I came to know for a fact that there are more foreigners, or atleast those living outside India, than my friends (a few Indians) visiting this blog. God bless them!

For their sake, I would like to give a brief explanation. Others can skip the following paragraph in case you still happen to be reading.

In the photograph, the scenario looks like the celebrations taking place in the Parade Grounds in New Delhi, the capital city of India. It could be either the country's Independence Day or Republic Day. Most probably, the National Anthem was being played. Most of the spectators rose to their feet to show their respect. But, interestingly, two persons - most probably Shree. Laloo Prasad Yadav and Smt. Rabri Devi - happen to be sitting and carefully reading the itinerary perhaps. Those two are amongst the most celebrated and most recognised leaders of the country.

Now, I hope that everyone understand the person's anguish. For this particular post, it suffices to assume that the people standing are at attention while a country's national anthem is being played. We don't need to know the identity of the country, nor of the two sitting.

After one of my dear friends forwarded this link to me on Feb 2005 (which might suggest that the incident took place on 26th Jan 2005) I had a small but interesting conversation with him.
I present it verbatim below, with few changes only done for clarity.

Mr.R : shameless politicians
Sravan : 1) It may be morphed. 2) It may not be. 3) There isn't anything to be surprised for me. 4) There was a case recently where the court declared that not standing for the National Anthem isn't a crime. I think you know it.
Mr.R : Boss... it's our national anthem!
Sravan : I know its the National Anthem. But I may not stand. It doesn't mean disrespect for me. Though one can see it that way.Because I don't believe in standing, and perhaps there were occasions when I didn't either.
Mr.R : I dunno... I was taught in my school to stand
Sravan : I was taught too.
Mr.R : I consider it a serious offence otherwise
Sravan : But I don't see that point any more. I mean, I'm blinded these days you know. If you say you are offended, I try to keep in mind not to offend you.
Mr.R : I'm not offended. It's an offence to the national anthem
Sravan: I'm sorry. It will have to get used to this offence then.

We both had more important things which needed our attention and so stopped there. I now wish we went along further.

The following are my views about the conversation.
1) I hope that most of you would agree with Mr. R. And I wish it, for some reason unknown to me.
2) I mentioned about a 'recent case'. I don't remember anything about it, and I am not sure if I am correct about it.
3) I still hold my view point.

Why does one stand when a National Anthem is being played? To show respect, I was told like you all were. So, all that boils down to this extremely small question. Why does one "stand at attention" to show respect?

Is this a necessary condition to show respect? Is this a sufficient condition to show respect? You all have your own answers for these questions. My answers for both the questions are in the negative. Here are my brief, pointless and insignificant arguments.

How many countries treat invalids, cripples or quadriplegics as traitors or atleast offendors? There are many of them who can't stand. Yet, they mean no offence. Its just an innate inability. Perhaps most of them, unless they are like me would have wanted to stand at such a situation.
Let us suppose that all these were forgiven.

But I still am not. I can stand, yet I don't intend to. I mentioned several days back in one of my posts that I am not a patriot. And also that I am not a traitor either. I don't mean to disrespect the National Anthem, no matter which country it belongs to. I am a man who believes in underplaying emotions. I don't like public display of several things. Same case with respect or affection. I have respect for the country, no matter which, in my heart. Sure you can't see it. But why should you as long as I don't show any disrespect? Are you satisfied if I mean harm and disrespect and am standing? I would be glad to respect your country through other means, to prove it. Just ask me.

My previous paragraph indeed shows why it can't be a sufficient condition either. So, I don't see the point of standing to prove respect anymore.

There is still one small thing nagging me. If a man says, "If you are not able to show respect to my country by doing an extremely simple thing like standing at attention, why do I need to find other means? After all, I am asking you to do the most common thing.", I have no answer to it.

I had no idea that my small wish to think and live in an out of the box fashion would throw me in a national crisis. All I can do is, sit respectfully when I am alone.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: Me in My Dreams

2005-06-03T21:00:00.000+05:30

How often do you get dreams? Of these, how often do you have a role? It need not be a significant one. Did you ever wonder whether you need to be a part of your dream or not?

I wondered, not few times. This is one of the several doubts I have regarding dreams. A difficult question, it is. I, right now, don't think that one can prove that there can't be dreams for a person without his/her presence.

Recently, while I didn't have the previlege to be near my computer, I had a few dreams in the small time I could sleep. Of those, on one night I had a most interesting dream.

First, I was there in the dream. After some time, my presence was completely absent. I have my own reasons to believe that the second part could infact have been a different dream. In that case, for me its proven that one can have dreams without their presence.

I hope that there will be someone contradicting my view point.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: Ice creams, Bicycle and Marks

2005-05-26T21:00:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, by the time I woke up I had a great dream. It had lots ove violence and was close to Saving Private Ryan. I know the reason. But it also had some supernatural things going on. The starcast had several movie stars, some of whom played negative roles. It was quite a thriller. I just procrastinated and so forgot the details.

Today morning, there were three parts of a dream the reasons of which I know. Still, I don't feel that I am desperate enough to dream about any of these, especially my marks.

Firstly Praveen, Nanduri, Mallik and myself went to an ice cream parlour. We all ordered 4 different ice creams. I don't remember what each one of us ordered but I still vaguely remember how some of them looked like.

In the meantime, I had a feeling that my ice cream would taste the worst and wanted to cancel the order and order something else. But mine being the easiest one(with no special makes) came the first.

We all ate them, me being a bit unsatisfied. Placed them all in a polythene cover and went back in an auto. Inside, we all got separated.

I was walking alone when I found a person riding a bicycle. I stated negotiating with him. He said that he would sell it to me for a minimum of Rs.1500/-.

There was another person who came on a similar cycle behind him and he said that he was seeing to sell it off for Rs.1400/-.

I bought the latter cycle, it was a blue sleek BSA SLR. I started going to my hostel when I met Kamesh in the midway. I immediately reminded him about the marks and he said that he would come only then and not any later because he had a cycle then. So we both set off to the dept. building(which one?) on our cycles.

There, instead of Prof.TTN, it was Suryakantha(why?) madam(not didi). She never liked me. But she talked pleasantly. We told here the purpose of our visit and she understood before we completed. There were many before us who paid similar visits.

She showed us our papers. Krishna was along with us(why?). I showed her where I thought I could get 2 marks and left it there. She didn't argue much and asked me if there was anywhere else that I could get any marks. I didn't check much as I didn't need more than 2 marks to upgrade my grade to S.

She simply added 2 marks and changed my grade. Even Kamesh did a similar thing. She said that the highest was 98(ours was just 80) and that there were easily more than 20 Ss. We thanked her and left.

Outside the class, there was something going on in the whole building. Something mysterious. I don't remember.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 41. Burglary Attempts

2005-05-22T21:30:00.000+05:30

Once the flood gates have been opened, there is no shortage for dreams. Atleast for now. Yesterday I had another dream. It was quite long as usual. But I can't remember it properly.

It was about a burglary attempt. We all were living in an appartment. The area had been having several burglary attempts in the near past.

One day, me and my mother were alone at home. Everything looked normal until we saw some balcony grills. They were partially cut open - enough space for a person to get in. We called the Police first.

We then checked out the whole house and found that there were similar openings at three different places - which amateurish fool does that? After some time we found that there were three different burglars- two men and a women who were trying to enter.

They are all my relatives, but I can't remember them now. They all looked in a way similar - their heads were covered with lots of grass. Suddenly the whole place shrinked and it looked like I was alone in a cage with three grills around me - each thief looking from one grill.

I took a garden scissors and started cutting out the grass(or hair?) from each one of them. Though I was in a cage, they were under my control. They were a bit nervous that I identified them. Some of them tried to move while I was working on someone else's head. I could shoo them easily.

It was like a stalemate for all of us. I don't remember what happened next. But suddenly I was at a different place.

It was like a studio where an antakshari show was being conducted. Only, this one was far more funny and rude. There were two men who were anchoring the show and one of them was my dad. They both were tearing apart, the participants who were singing horribly, into shreds. Strange!

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

All men and women are Equal

2005-05-22T21:00:00.000+05:30

What does anyone understand by this? If taken literally, I beg to differ. There is a lot in the statement than it seems.

I believe that no two men, no two women, no man and woman - no two humans are equal. Sure, the mathematicians, physicists and statisticians might be able to find out some units to measure each person - based on several things like the money, status and demographic factors.

But two humans, in my opinion, are(atleast should be) as different as theirDNA(perhaps more). The units, if they exist, are indeed a bane of existence. Any units defined by man are used for comparison inevitably. Isn't this comparison causing most(or all?) hardships of humankind?

The day a comparison is possible, a psychological need to improve absolutely and win over the neighbour relatively arises. The day such a need is absent, the world gets closer to utopia. But, the progress comes to a halt. This is a very difficult situation. Does this mean that utopia should never be craved for? May be, for utopia, we will need wars with other planets - à la Star Wars. Sorry, I think I am deviating.

Perhaps, all humans in this world should be treated in the same way irrespective of age, sex, country, religion, etc. is the meaning behind the statement. Sure they are not being treated that way. But should they be?

Children need to be treated specially, with greater care, because ... well, they are children. The people of the opposite sex need to be treated specially, because ... we understand so little about them comparatively, and there certainly is an undeniable dependency of us on them.

I don't talk about other countries and religions because they are more based on the set of beliefs than anything else. The fact that people are of different countries or religions, I feel, should in no way affect the way we treat them. But the UN or some such organization has a long way to go before we can claim that such a thing is happening.

Sure, all men and women should have the same rules and laws. The court, the country and the society should treat them in the same way on an outer layer. Though, there is a small deviation even here in some cases. Especially for the children. But the way a human treats another human will never be unbiased. It is foolish to expect such a thing.

P.S. Long ago, I thought of writing something entirely different on the same topic. I just remembered that the gist is the following: "Feminists claim that women have proved themselves to be equal to men in all fields. Then, why do they need reservations?" I have a feeling that writing about that would have been a lot less headache to me as well as to you.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 40. Return of the Dreams

2005-05-21T21:00:00.000+05:30

Back after a very long respite, I am. A few dreams between the last one and this one, I had. But always something, there was. Exams and assignments, I had. Then away from my computer, I was. Then, disappear, I did, to take care about more important things. Now weak, the Force is.

A collection of dreams which ranged from not-so-pleasant to very-unpleasant, I start with again . Remember four of them atleast, I still do. That the last two are connected, I can see. But fogging my view all the other connections, the dark clouds are. In great pain, young Skywalker is.

With the very unpleasant one, it started off. The most terrible private from my mom, I had to date. Hurt greatly, she was. My increasingly reckless behaviour is the reason, I feel. To it added my friends' misbehaviour, I think . A class in my room, I first had. To my brother's room, I went to talk. Came there to by chance, she did and then started the real one. Wake up mid-way during this dream, I had to. Because of the extremely disastrous performance in the previous semester, I think it came. Use the Force, I should.

Having a kind of a banquet, we all were. Playing around, most kids and adolescents were. Sat I, in a corner. Very ugly, the happenings there were turning. Fighting, some of them were. Other unspeakables, doing some others were. The Force, I decided to use. To become a Jedi, I went.

Went I, to a movie along with my friends. Rs.120/-, each ticket costed. Came out of the hall in the midway, I did for some reason I can't sense. Later another movie, we all saw. Not great, I think it was. ROTS, it was not. 0100hrs in the midnight, it became. Left me and another friend, all my other friends. The other way round, infact it is. Matrix Reloaded, we both stayed back to watch. Pouring outside, it started. Falling asleep, I was. Used the Force, I to make us both come out. Rs.240/- wasted, we both thought. All the things I fear to lose, I should learn to leave.

Going back in a ship, we all were. Excited, the sea was. The Perfect Storm, it all looked like. Find many other friends and teachers, I did. But get separated from them, I had to. Go back, I must to complete my Jedi training.

Irritates you, doesn't it, when I write like this? Saw ROTS, I on the first day. The path to the dark side, writing like this is. Writing like this leads to irritation. Irritation leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Much irritation, I sense in you my dear readers.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

A Proof of Guilt

2005-05-15T21:00:00.001+05:30

Is there a proof of guilt? It depends on the definition of guilt. There might be some.

But one of them, I don't think can ever be a proof. That is Willingness to take Punishment. I just mean to say that there is a possibility that even though one may be willing to take punishment, (s)he may be or feel innocent. And may see the punishment as a service.

I know that some of you look at this and say, "Of Course, its not. What is the big deal about it?"

Why I feel this needs to be clearly stated is that, I have had a few experiences where I saw the judges who considered the willingness as a proof. And there was no incident where it was explicitly considered otherwise.

Here is a possibility for misinterpretation. We know that it(misinterpretation) should not be done. There are a few cases where it is being done. But there are no cases where it is shown overtly that it is not being done. I have come to realize the need for being overt here.

This is as important or perhaps even more important than the trivial statements that we were once taught to mention explicitly while doing some math problems. In those days, it looked silly to me. "Why mention it? Everybody knows that.", I thought. It took me this long to see the importance.

Getting back to the main point, there are atleast two positive possibilities when a person is willing to take punishment. There is one common premise for both the possibilities - The judge clearly thinks that the person is guilty from the outset.

The first one deals with the legal meaning of guilt.
Mr.X was accused of cheating in an exam. He vehemently denied. Even after long deliberations, the teacher didn't believe him and said, "Plead guilty and I assure you that there will be no punishment. Else, I will penalise you." Mr.X said, "I am willing to take punishment." He was not punished.

Did Mr.X see his fault and so felt it necessary to take punishment? Did he indirectly plead guilty and so escape punishment, irrespective of the truth? Did he feel that there was no need to plead anything and that it was better taking a punishment as the teacher looked more interested in seeing him punished than knowing the truth? That is, either way Mr.X is going to be unhappy, he could make atleast the pitiable teacher happier by willing to take a punishment. Or did he mean that he was innocent?

The answers to the questions, in the incident I am writing about, were 'No', 'No', 'Yes', 'Yes'. This was a more straightforward case.

The second one deals with a trueer meaning of guilt.
Once it was found that there were students who put proxies (It suffices to know that its a small-time crime, we can do without the descriptions). Some of them were caught. Mr.Y, who wasn't, went and confessed. All of them took a lot of flak from the Prof., were called "unethical mercenaries" and what not. They were given some community service as a punishment. All along, Mr.Y did his part while smiling to himself.

Was Mr.Y smiling because he liked community service? Because there was something else in his life that kept him happy? Because he was happy being purged? Because he felt proud of his confession?

Mr.Y, in reality, liked community service. He was happy about something else in his life, as always. But he didn't feel proud of his confession, nor did he feel purged.

Infact, he didn't feel even a trace of guilt in his heart. Sure, he knew that he was committing a trivial crime, which almost 50% of the people around him still do. But he also knew that there would never be a danger of him doing anything even remotely similar in the real world, because he considered himself to be a fastidiously law-abiding person. He felt that what he did was to play a game, without any serious consequences, and tried to realize the difficulties of an exclusive art from close.

He was smiling just as a way of expressing that the punishment had no affect on him, regardless of what the Prof. thought. That he didn't feel guilty. And was of course also laughing at the extent to which the Prof. had taken pains to reprimand them, in a sensitive and sincere attempt to make these ethical brutes more civilized which clearly were of no avail.

In these two cases, the subjects were willing to take punishments. In both of them, they were not guilty, though it is a bit complicated in the second case. But in both of them, they were considered guilty.

Somehow seeing these two incidents, from so close, made me feel that there is a need for us to imbibe that willingness to take punishment is not a proof of guilt.

I know that I have become very vague at the end atleast, but that is the way I intend to keep it because that is exactly the way my feelings are. More so because I am one who doesn't care about the ethical or moral issues, but only about the legal issues - another narrow-minded person.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

I am a Failure

2005-05-08T21:00:00.000+05:30

I think most of you might have guessed this by now. Who else writes such boring and self-absorbed gibberish? Why this sudden obsession with failures? Well, its just because I am being one long since.

Those were a few phases I have seen, as I said before. And what was the path that I took in the 3rd stage?

I don't know. I think its closer to the fourth person that I described there. You now know why I find it the most interesting. Is this a carefree attitude? Is it self-deception? How true is the thought? I am quite sure that most of the people in the world will never know the answers to these questions. Never.

How do I deal with it? How can I stay there forever?
I can. There are several things that keep me going. Though some of them I might have come across accidentally, I don't mind bragging that its my own mind that found out and is finding out various ways to deal with it.

One way is to try to be more confident than you can be. Well it sounds like being over-confident and it is, at times. But all this is just a sincere attempt to negate the affects of failures on me.

Another way is to perceive the situation differently. What people see as a failure, I don't. Nope, I am not trying to use the inspirational quotes. I just try to look at the bright side. By this I don't mean that I am being unrealistic. I still am. But there is still something positive about it. If there is nothing else, doesn't the fact that one is able to deal with such a horrible situation even though clumsily show the presence of something positive? It does, to me.

Yet another way is to dream. Yes. But dream sensibly. What at best can happen to a person at this situation? Its often said that the greatest achievers have been avid dreamers. I don't intend to be one amongst them. I just need some fuel to get me going. And what better fuel than hope?

Another way is to know thyself. This sounds clichéd, but its not as easy and as fanciful as it sounds when Oracle pronounces it. I will go deeper into this, perhaps at some other appropriate time. But this helps enormously. I hope I am not being delusional. The following is a fact. At no other point of my life had I had a messier academic situation. Still, this is a point where I am so close to cloud nine continually, because of the discoveries I made about myself recently.

An important thing is to keep oneself happy. Because, failures are not exactly cheerful. Little things can work and how.

Don't get delusional that one can stay here happily. There are small but significant things that keep coming all the time, that can be frustrating.

Once in a while I too start brooding and fall into a self-deprecating mood. The turmoil is routine but is still depressing.

The concern about how much my parents are being hurt keeps coming every now and then. Sure, its of no avail.

When a friend of mine asks me, "Don't your parents say anything about this?", does anyone know how much it aches? Sure, I do nothing about it. But it still does. This is a question that might be popped anywhere and anytime. I have an image of a carefree and a cool guy. And so, my ability to scoff at the question, remain cheerful and sound unoffended extracts a great amount of energy. It still is interesting to see how well I can pull it off.

I move around with highly successful folks a lot. Most of my friends belong to this category. When one of them is worrying about getting just a B, while I am happy with my D; it creates doubts about how much out of place I am being. Do I deserve to move around with them so shamelessly? Once in a while, even I tend to forget that I don't care.

And there is this silly feeling that every now and then people around you don't seem to respect you enough because you obviously don't deserve it. This can come so suddenly from unexpected circles.

Even with all this, I am happy enough because of the beauty I see and the celebrations I take part in every moment. I feel one thing certainly. If this is failure, then I have no qualms about staying here forever if I am guaranteed of the life style I want. I am not, and therefore I shall keep coming here whenever I can afford to. In the remaining time, I shall make plans and try to implement them so that I can afford to live in this stage forever after sometime in the future.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Phases of Failures - III

2005-05-01T21:00:00.001+05:30

3) The Realization Phase
In this phase, the person is tired of himself probing various reasons for the failures. (S)he acknowledges the inevitable.

It doesn't come as a shock, as somewhere deep within, this was known for a fact all along. But then it surely is suddenly depressing because so far it was possible to find solace in something or the other while letting someone or something bear the burden.

The person may tend to become temporarily reclusive, but that's good. Bliss can be found in solitude when one is in a pensive mood. It could also make him/her think about when and where it all began. It doesn't take long to find out answers to the plethora of questions which have suddenly thrown the mind into turmoil. All this is perhaps obvious.

But what follows in the aftermath is the more path-determining. There might be several ways in which one handles the situation once all the answers are known.

The first person sulks a little, understands and decides to bounce back with vengeance.

The second person becomes maudlin, hopes everything will become alright in the future and forgets. Fortunate if it does. (S)he may realize this too.

The third person self-doubts his/her capabilities, becomes idle for most of the time in the future knowing that (s)he is fit for nothing. It might take a great deal of effort sometimes to bring back the confidence.

The fourth person scoffs off at the situation and thinks "Well, what's wrong? I was able to live in this rut for all this time, why climb out? I am fine here with these results." I think (s)he is the most interesting of the lot.

There are perhaps several more paths a person might take. Each one of us knows that the first is the right way. But do you think that knowing it makes it any simpler to handle the situation? I know for a fact that it doesn't.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 39. An Assemblage

2005-05-01T21:00:00.000+05:30

Yesterday night, I got my largest collection of dreams to date. I don't remember how many of them, there were too many. But I remember a few of them in between. They certainly looked memorable.

The first one I remember, only me and my mom were there. We both were in some railway station. I was a cowboy. I ain't kidding! We both had to do a lot of stressful work. I mean, we kept moving around the whole place, boarding trains and getting off. But I don't remember what we were trying to do all the time.

Next, there was one with me and my dad. I don't have any idea what this was about. I guess it was something about my worsening academic skills.

Next, BigB and Aish(or was it Sneha Ullal?) were there. Ok, I am BigB's fan. But I don't even come close to calling myself that for Aish. Maybe they were a package and so they both came together. It was extremely mysterious. We were at some weird place. It had some temples, wet smooth soil. We were going around the places, finding out great stuff. All the time, it looked ominous. As far as I remember, one of the two weren't exactly good. I mean they must have been playing some villain or vamp in some movie and must still have been in that character. I have no idea.

Last, it was me and my brother. There were many more people around. But they were all comparatively insignificant. There was some fight where people blamed my brother for trying to get a lot of attention. Then they turned to me and said that why I couldn't stop him. I lashed back at them with vengeance in my unique way. I know, as a fact, by over 19yrs of experience that I have been lusting for attention a lot more when compared to my brother. And why do people think that we both look alike and so can control each other? There was a lot more to this dream than I can remember.

I think that the sheer number of dreams that came were responsible for the extremely poor memory in writing about these, apart from you-know-what.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 38. Exams & ?

2005-04-30T21:00:00.000+05:30

I am right now having exams. Ugh! I don't do many things that I should do, nor those that I want to. Exams are really a great waste of time. Whatever, I have been getting many dreams but I keep postponing the noting down just like that.

This wasn't exactly a single dream. There was another one the same night, about a week ago. I don't remember that at all.

In the part I remember, I got a 0 each in my SE and my DBMS exams. Back to back. I know the root cause, its obvious. I never got a 0 before, if we don't consider the ones that I got because I didn't submit my assignments. They too were indeed far and apart, thankfully.

I saw the SE paper first. I don't know what went through my mind, I never know. I guess it went blank. That's what I assume happens whenever I have a little surprise. Then seeing DBMS paper added to the surprise. I surprised myself for the nth time by expressing no shock. I took it too well, like I always do.

Now that SE exam is over and DBMS exam is less than 24hrs farther, I guess the dream can't come true. But what if it does?

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Phases of Failures - II

2005-04-24T21:00:00.000+05:30

Once the person sees that the failure is not just an insignificant(in time) event but a continous one, (s)he sees that there is no more a point in denying it. Then, move on to the next phase.

2) The Attribution Phase
In this phase, the person probes various reasons not for denying the failures but for acknowledging it. This again is amusing for the same old reason, but it is more dangerous than the previous phase. It is because, in the past the person only tried to act blind. Now the person in addition faces the danger of incurring the wrath of the attributee.

The attributions are sometimes both ingenuous and ingenious. They might be on the overall failures, or may concentrate on one particular failure for the time being by attempting to impart some significance to that one.

For a student like myself, but not necessarily in my situation, the attributions can be like -
Overall failures
a) My mom. She doesn't wake me up early in the morning any day.
b) My dad. He is never at home and he doesn't understand its importance.
c) My teacher. That old fart is such an egotist. He speaks more on how much he toiled when he was a child than about the lesson.
d) My friend. Even he RGs me.

Specific failures
e) My dog. It bit my finger when we were playing and I couldn't take down notes in the beginning of the course. How does it matter even if I take it now?
f) That S.O.B. He didn't tell me the correct timing of the exam. He knew it and knew that I didn't know it. Had I gone just a little earlier!
g) The roadside cat. I am so terrified of cats and I couldn't concentrate during the exam most of the time. I was just worrying about how I would get home when that cat is sitting across our door.
h) The newspaper fellow. Doesn't he know that I can't do anything without starting off my day by reading The Times?

It is interesting how far the person may go to find an excuse. From the teacher to the newspaper fellow. The attributions certainly look silly and refutable, even for me when I am sober. But, for the person they are more than enough. All one needs is a single ray of hope.

And nope. I am not making up this stuff. I know all this through first-hand experience. Though I don't remember accusing anyone openly, I certainly did exceptionally good work deep inside myself.

All this is sincere. The person sincerely wants to disown the failures. Its only because it hurts. Very much. Through attribution, (s)he can atleast feel happy(really) that the cause is not within. (S)he still has to face the great misfortune of accepting that there have been failures, no matter who/what the cause was.

During this terrible time, if the attributions are really overt the dangers are not feeble. The attributee need not be generous enough to forgive the accusation easily. I haven't even considered the damage to the reputation done so far. Maybe, you can forget the help that the person gets from the attributee and co. too in the future.

Though humans have been saying that they don't hold grudges, it is a lie that everybody takes for granted. Look at the newspaper and you know what I am gibbering about.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 37. The Brutish Police

2005-04-22T21:00:00.000+05:30

I am somehow again making time to write down these silly dreams. And this time it was of a suspicious looking Policeman.

Our family were all there. We were living in one of our old apartments. It was in a huge apartment complex with hundreds of flats. The apartment looked mostly like what it really is. But it had an additional patio-like area towards a bedroom.

It was early in the morning. Me and my brother were still trying to wake up. My dad was reading the newspaper and my mom was doing her work in the kitchen. I think there was someone else too, may be my grandma.

There was some commotion out there. I could see some Policemen beating people around. Lathicharge. I don't know if all of them really were Police. I mean, they looked like roadside ruffians. They were beating the hell out of everyone they came across. They were just throwing out people's belongings. It was all coming to an end after a good enough time.

Then, this brutish police who was in plain clothes started climbing the water-pipe and tried to get into the patio of our flat. He started banging the door. No one would open it. I using sign language, asked him to come around to the entrance door if he had anything. He wouldn't listen.

I simply took a broken stick of decent thickness and tried to go out myself. He came towards the entrance annoyed that we didn't do what he wanted. He used some highly parliamentary language.

I wanted to check whether he really was a Police or not. If yes, whether he had a search warrant to enter the apartment. I think the answer to the first one was yes and to the second one was no.

He wanted something and he tried to get into the house. I started fighting with him, with my stick. Unfortunately, he had a bigger and a thicker one. After some fight, I had to give up. We lost.

Where were the other people in the house? I don't know. But they were safe. And I ultimately won. Not in the fighting. While coming out, I asked my brother to videotape the whole episode carefully. He did it without arousing any suspicion. I won in something that mattered more than the fighting.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dream Unlimited: 36. Yes! My Own Boy

2005-04-21T21:00:00.000+05:30

During the past few days I got several dreams, some of which were interesting. But this is a time of end-semesters, assignments and their deadlines. Not that I do care much for them, but I still can't pretend that they don't exist. Not yet.

Last night, I had a wonderful dream. It has its share of sad moments and happy moments, but above all it had hugely embarrassing moments. It certainly looks filled with clichéd incidents. But I tell you, the way it makes you feel is not at all like what you generally see in the movies. I couldn't miss writing it. I also think that it isn't a good idea to make it public. But, I think I still am testing the limits to which I can stretch myself.

I was staying in IITM itself, but it somehow looked different. People looked older, more mature. Many of them openly had some kind of a relationship or the other. And there were some common courtesans(you know what I mean) too, I guess. They lived off the campus.

One night, I went near the place these people lived. There were a few of them on the streets. I bumped into one of them and was seduced. She was one of the better-looking women, but I didn't like her either. I went along with her to her place.

I don't remember the exact flow of incidents but after I came back, there were some people who knew about this. To some of them, I myself told about it. I think they were instrumental in giving me some publicity.

I got totally freaked out about it. My dad came. I think he is my dad. But its not clear. Its going to be much easier for me to say that some elderly man came. He was terribly angry about everything. There were some strict warnings, from him and the institute. One thing led to another. I got a chance to complete my degree here itself.

In the meantime, I found out that she got pregnant. Just by that one-night stand! Whatever, this made me even guiltier than what I had already been feeling.

When I came out of the place, I found a job. I somehow got custody of the child without any hassles. It was a boy. I didn't want him to live in such an environment, with his mother and her colleagues. We went away.

He was so young, and he knew a lot more for his age than he should already be knowing. I sometimes wondered if he had lost his innocence at such a tender age. He was not a toddler, but he was just may be around 5-6 years old. We played together. We fought together. Sometimes, he had the ability to frighten me. I mean, you know how foolishly playful children can be. Jumping over walls and running around too fast. God! I have really grown old so quickly. It has been like yesterday, when I did such similar things.

I was really good with him. But sometimes, I didn't like him. He was a mistake. Still, somewhere deep in my heart, I knew one thing. That I was guilty of the crime, and that I had to face the consequences and take the responsibility of my boy.

I feel terrible about the dream. I hope that there won't be any such pain. I am not ready for such things yet. The feelings are extremely complex, beyond my writing abilities. I still don't think its a good idea to make it public. But, I guess, this is the only way to own the crime.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Phases of Failures - I

2005-04-17T21:10:00.000+05:30

I was thinking about this for quite some time. Then I decided that I should split it up into several blogs. That way you can feel less bored, and I can buy more time to think.

My first significant failures started once I entered my high school. Not that I was always the topper till then. I certainly was, for most of the time. But till then, those few occasions during which I failed never mattered much. My parents bought me chocolates and gifts whether the results were satisfactory or not. No, they didn't exactly say that the results didn't matter. Nor did they make any pretence about it. But, fortunately they saw to it that the result didn't affect me much.

Once in high school, there were several memorable things that started taking place. I stopped being a kid. Maybe I stopped that a little earlier itself. But now, the change became perceptible for me atleast. This was when renaissance was at its infancy.

Then came IITM. My failures got more and more significant. They started becoming perennial. The period of renaissance has been going on ever since.

All along, I learnt so less about what I should have learnt. I also learnt so much more about what I might never have learnt in the future - a great erudition.

Now, I am friends with failure. I have a feeling that I know it quite well, surely more than I have ever known. That is the reason why I am venturing into the realms of failure. I perceive failure as a process with various phases.

It is through continous acquaintanceship that I got to find out this much about this beautiful process. But there are always wiser people who can get inspired or motivated and get out of this burden. They are the ones who have learnt to deal with failures. I am among the ones who have a long way to go before doing that.

Owing to the complexity of the mind, the phases might not be in any particular order. They might be repetetive. Some of them might be so short that one never sees them. Some of them might overlap with one another. The torment might be over before one sees some of the phases.

Many of these possibilites might have happened to me too. So, here I present those phases that I could perceive. I attempt to do it in an order that occured for me.

1) The Denial Phase
This, my instinct says, is the first phase for almost everybody with very few exceptions. Denial is a highly amusing phase, which infact precedes any change. While it may be too insignificant in many cases, it also has a considerable role in many others. It also precedes failure when it occurs for the first time, or when it is unexpected. It again depends on the mindset of the individual.

By denial, I mean the phase where the individual writes off the failure as ill-luck. It is just a matter of time, and the course will change by itself once things fall on the right track - the individual thinks.

The individual knows that it need not be true (he is not sure yet). But hope - what a accursed boon! That is what keeps him optimistic.

The amusing part of the phase is because of the hope and the illusion that the individual entangles him/herself in. Strange, how much hope the mind can contain and how complex illusions the mind can create.

The phase can be shortened by being realistic. If you see the picture better. You can understand it better. You can accept it better.

P.S. By mind, I mean both - the feelings of the heart and the thoughts of the brain. Infact, everything non-physical about these two mysterious physical parts are grouped as mind. This is not an attempt to stay away from some controversies about the borders of brain and heart. It is an attempt to stay right at the centre of the controversy. That way I may get a chance to know a little more about something that I am totally ignorant about.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 35. My Brother can't Drive

2005-04-17T21:00:00.000+05:30

After a long time, I got a chance to sleep in peace. After a long time, I got a dream. After a long time, it turned out to be a terrible nightmare. After a long time, I found time to write it down finally.

I, my brother, my cousin and her father were the main characters in the dream. I can guess atleast a few of the reasons behind this dream. It took place at the Shankar Mutt Temple our family used to go every friday in the past. We now go there whenever we can make it, regardless of day and time.

There was some construction going on in the temple.There were considerably large boulders placed near the parking place. Once we were ready to get back home, I gave the car keys to my brother.He went to reverse it, while my cousin and her father were still aboutto get into their car.

Suddenly, there was a huge sound. It was an accident. Before I turned around to see what happened, I remembered that my brother doesn't know how to drive a car. I don't know why he did that. While reversing, he accidentally pressed the accelerator too hard. The car jumped over the boulders.

No one knows why or how it happened. But by the time I turned around, the car rammed into a van. There was no top to the car. It looked as if there was never a top to the car. There was no presence of my brother. I knew that anyone in the car would've been, no I can't say it!

I ran towards the car. He was down inside the car. He was hurt, though not fatally. He could walk. There were no external fractures atleast. There were several bruises on the face. I guessed that they would be gone in a few days.

We somehow brought him out of the car and started running outside, and crossed the road. Why were we running? We ran towards the lane through which we could have gone to our old house. I was helping my brother and we both were behind the other two. They ran into a shop.

My brother pointed his hand towards that direction and asked me to take him there. He had a difficulty with speaking. I didn't understand where he wanted to go and asked him brusquely whether he wanted to see our old house. He looked more hurt and still pointed the hand in the same direction and started walking by himself, very slowly.

I was greatly disturbed. I realized what was happening, though a little late as always. I thought that it wasn't good and slept no more.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

I am no Patriot

2005-04-10T21:00:00.000+05:30

This is a logical extension to what I was writing last week. http://bsravanin.blogspot.com/2005/04/khadgam-gadar.html

I was only using those two movies while trying to make a point on Patriotism and National Integration. While writing that, I found out for myself for the umpteenth time that I am not a patriot.

This was also re-emphasized a day before writing last week's blog when a patriotic friend of mine forwarded me the following joke:
"Vajpayee and Bush are sitting in a bar. A guy walks in and asks the barman, "Isn't that Bush and Vajpayee?". The barman says "Yep, thats them." So the guy walks over and says, "Hello, what are u guys doing?". Bush says, "We're planning world war 3." Guy says, "Really? What's going to happen?". Vajpayee says, "Well, we're going to kill 14 million Pakistanis and one bicycle repairman." The guy exclaimed, "A bicycle repairman?!!!" Vajpayee turns to Bush and says,
"See, I told you no-one would worry about the 14 million Pakistanis!" BE PATRIOTIC FORWARD THE JOKE"

The joke confounded me again about how incredulous humans can be in an attempt to show off their sense of humour. I didn't understand the joke. I am not patriotic. So I refrained from forwarding it.

What was the joke really on? Was it on Pakistanis? Was it on Bush? Was it on Vajpayee? Or was it on the patriotic Indians themselves? I can guess what it was on easily but I daren't do that. If this is patriotism, I can celebrate for not being a patriot.

We may never know(not that its significant) where the epicentre of the joke was. I can only guess the number of patriotic Indians it was circulated among in very rough figures. I am not one among them. I am not a patriot. I know that there are some people who feel that I am a traitor. In this situation, I would prefer being a traitor to being a patriot.

In a cricket match between the Indian team and the Pakistani team, it is obvious whom you need to support. The moment you choose to support the other country you become a traitor. The movies often show us what being a patriot means very well.

I once had a muslim friend who loved the Pakistani team, when Wasim and Waqar were both at their peak. Had I seen these movies then, I would have crossed swords with him for once and forever. I was then a patriot.

Little do we realize that an Indian team is a small group of players belonging to the country, which is selected based on several factors which I don't want to get into. That it isn't a disgrace to the country if they lose in cricket(or perhaps in anything else?). The media doesn't mean it literally when they say,"India Loses". They do that for a lack of a better and a shorter word, apart from their own selfish reasons. The headlines can become misleading while trying to meet the requisites of brevity.

In the movies, it is always the Indian hero bashing the Pakistani terrorists while shouting "Jai Hind" and sometimes(Yes, its true!) "Pakistan Murdabad", as the film-makers explain that its because we don't want to see it the other way. Certainly, its true. After all, they have been being the critically-acclaimed, award-winning, national integration promoting movies while also being box-office bonanzas.

I too was once excited by all this. Now I don't even feel for Jai Hind, forget getting excited. I saw many movies where the hero goes to an extent to say that he would be patriotic to the country in all his lives that he may have in the aftermath.

What if the hero were born in Pakistan(a worst case?) in one of his afterlives? Would he be patriotic to India? Then isn't it being a traitor?

Little do we realize that we needn't have anything against the country. Its just a gamble for power between two groups of oligarchs(or monarch(s)?), from a cynical layman's point of view. I make a small observation here. What Indians are now calling Patriotism, I would call it Jingoism. This word not only looks apt, but also somehow sounds a bit playful. Wouldn't you like to be called a jingoist? Jingo has a musical rhythm in it.

Why should I be patriotic? I have been through the rigmarole about India being a great country with God-given cultural hegemony, blah blah blah. Still, I don't see that there is any point in it.
After all, being a patriot means being patriotic to your country unconditionally and not because its a great country. That way, there wouldn't be any patriots in some of the countries that certainly look like nothing but a land of shit before our great country, from our point of view.

But I am selfish and opportunistic. I don't have much against this country so far as I am being safe irrespective of floods, draught, war, etc. The minute I know its going to be unsafe for me(not rest of the country, mind you) I will be among the fore-runners trying to flee from here, unlike many of my patriotic fellow-men. If there is a problem there, I will move again. Its me and my safety after all.

All this may look cheap and dirty. Sometimes, truth is like that. This doesn't give me much chance of being patriotic. That too, somehow it doesn't make much sense to me either.

May be a day when wars wouldn't be glorified, soldiers needn't be immortalized, and cricket teams aren't considered as the whole country, I could become a small patriot too while keeping my safety options open.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 34. Who is the impostor?

2005-04-04T21:00:00.000+05:30

I haven't written for a considerably long time. But I am unhappy that I didn't write even when there were three dreams that went away like that, just because of my procrastination. The thing is those three dreams were considerably interesting in their own ways, especially the third one.

The first dream was very much morose for some reason. The second one I have no idea about. The third one was the most important oneas I didn't have something like that before. It was gory with lots of violence all over it. With this as a backdrop, there was my internship going on and there was a mysterious relation between me and a woman. Don't get any ideas on the 'relation'. It was thoroughly professional. I think she was my mentor. But it was mysterious because of some other reasons I can't remember.

Today I got a dream that I tried not to forget. It tookplace in IITM. I mean all the people were those living in IITM. But the place looked nothing like it. It was closer to the buildings in Star Wars movies than to anything else.

In one of the floors, there was a hospital. I accidentally dropped a scale made of glass. It was some sensitive instrument, I guess. I started running away as one of the people working saw me and started chasing me. He is one of my friends now.

Along my path, I met Chetan at a place. He advised me to go to the topmost floor. That there I would find some materials, joining two of which I would be able to produce a clone of the instrument that I broke. I had no idea what he was talking about.

I started running up, when the chaser nearly saw me fromthe other side of the building. I immediately lied down on the ground and started crawling slowly. At that time, I saw Chetan's father. He taught me in the past. I suddenly got embarassed and rose.

The chaser saw me and started running towards my side of the building. I immediately dropped my heavy bag to the floor, wished my teacher and started running away without any explanation. I think he didn't like what I did.

I ran to the top floor and among some of the construction materials, I took what Chetan told me to and accidentally touched them together.They magically fused and became a piece very similar to the instrument.

Before anyone else could see me, I went to the hospital floor and surreptitiously entered the lab where I broke the instrument. I placed this clone at that place and slipped out.

From there, I went to our department floor. There I happened to run into my guide. Nothing happened. We wished each other and went away. I gave no indication of my nervousness and passed him as if I had my work, similar to him.

Near the department office, there was a commotion. Many Professors were together shouting at one of their colleagues. It turned out that this colleague was an impostor. He had no skills in reality. I don't remember that much because I had to wake up before it all ended. But the impostor concept among our department faculty amuses me more than it should.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Khadgam & Gadar

2005-04-03T21:00:00.000+05:30

I haven't seen Khadgam and Gadar - Ek Prem Katha until recently. I am so much relieved that I didn't see these two in the theatre. Even more lucky, I saw the latter one only in bits and pieces. So, what have these movies got in common? Many.

Both movies were top-grossers in their respective years(Khadgam was released over an year later). Both had great music, Khadgam especially. Both movies were visually appealing. Both movies had some threads that were very well made. The cast in both the movies did an extremely good job. Both titles, of which I don't understand the significane. I can't comment on Gadar as I don't understand hindi that well. Just a passing knowledge, enough to understand a movie.

Now coming the important points. Both belonged to the patriotism genre. More important, both were released before the populous patriotic indians stopped rejoicing in the result of Kargil War, not that they stopped it yet. Lastly, I didn't like both of them.

The similarities don't end here, but I have come to the point and I shall stop. My point is about the patriotism genre movies. To elaborate, I would use Khadgam more than Gadar, because I can't comment much on the latter one because of the afore-mentioned reasons.

So how can one make a hit movie in this genre? Very simple. Take a good cast, not necessarily a big one. Khadgam is an example. Get some not-so-bad music. Have a cruel terrorist or Pakistani villain, none can play it better than Amrishji but you can do with others also. Let the protagonists yell like they never did before. Perhaps some perks, or the Guinness Book Records can be used to motivate them. Obviously, no one can come close to Sunny. Is that the reason why there were three(or four or five?) protagonists in Khadgam, to get a cumulative effect of Sunny? Sprinkle a few inciting incidents and many exciting dialogues. Forget even the minimum logical issues atleast during the climax so that we all can shout Mera Bhaarat Mahaan on top of our voices. Obviously India can't lose, can it?

These two movies more than satisfy the above points. I shall elaborate each of these further, for my self-satisfaction(like in all my blogs). The cast in both movies have done a great job. Sunny Deol, Amisha Patel, Amrish Puri, Prakash Raj, Ravi Teja, Sangeetha, Shafiq walked away with handful of accolades and awards.

The songs had beatiful lyrics by veterans Anand Bakshi and Sirivennela(apart from a few others), breathtaking music by Uttam Singh and Devi Sri Prasad, and the singers did their job. They again walked away with further well-deserving awards.

Amrish Puri, as usual, made us hate Pakistanis. In Khadgam, we had Osama Bin Laden, a few Pakistani terrorists and newcomer Shafiq. It was obviously easy for us to hate them all.

Sunny was at his yelling best, which resulted in a Pakistani battalion to run away just listening to him. Why don't we ever run away from it? Ok, our very own baddies obviously know that they have to run away when they hear him yell, but why Pakistanis also? They are all new to him, right? If only this were true, we could have used several loud speakers across this side of the border. The telugu protagonist tried appreciable to catch up with the former, atleast as a cumulative. Srikanth had a rare role where he got to hate all muslims, not only Pakistanis, most of the movie. Of course, he mends his ways before the end. He has his acting lessons right, but he didn't learn what it means to be a special officer in the Police Department. Perhaps, Krishna Vamsi himself didn't know it. Prakash Raj got to be a greatly patriotic and secular muslim, who also hated Pakistan. Ravi Teja had to play an aspiring actor, instead of his usual self, and so he obviously must have had enough coaching to hate Pakistan. Brahmaji as a Captain in army, and Uttej as a friend of the protagonists got a chance as well. Krishna Vamsi has always been good at extracting good and required performances.

Coming to the inciting incidents, it is cricket. I have seen it in several films and I never understood how supporting Pakistani Cricket Team instead of the Indian Cricket Team can be considered as a felony. Regarding this, my friends think that I am intentionally trying to be odd. Nope. I am not trying to be broad-minded. It only shrinks my space to be independent. I shall elaborate about this in my next week's blog. But isn't it time that we atleast changed the game? Oh! May be its because when it comes to Hockey the Pakistani Team is far ahead. In other games, we can't tell much. Cricket is the only game, where we successfully save enough heat. Ok then, we can use Cricket itself as long as we don't find an other convenient game.

Exciting dialogues. Uttej was critically acclaimed by one and all for his razor-sharp dialogues. Perhaps creative director Krishna Vamsi helped him well. Indians made a helluva lot of scene when Bush named his dog Bhaarat. What about this then? You know what? IITians could join the bandwagon successfully because we can curse better while being more creative at the same time. OMG! When did our CBFC become this bold, to let this movie get into the theatres unexpurgated?

Forget climax. It was an unbelievable mess in both the movies. Even I, have no intentions to elaborate on this. At the end, we all perhaps said Jai Hind and left the theatres feeling ready to go to the war.

At one point I almost decided to stop watching patriotism and war related movies. But I still prefer to hope for something better. There are always some meaningful and sensible movies like J.P.Dutta's Border, J.P.Dutta's Refugee, Danis Tanovic's No Man's Land and more recently Sabiha Sumar's Khaamoshi Paani. There will always be.

You know what frustrates me more? Not that we made them the top-grossers, they had enough other factors also. Like the love thread in Gadar and film industry thread in Khadgam. But that both the movies won perhaps all the awards that ever existed on national integration. Just because they had to be given to some movie or the other, and there perhaps weren't any others those fateful years? How could we say that this is patriotism and national integration while we simultaneously say that what madarsis preach is not? I know that I will always have to wonder about that. Not because I can't be made to understand, but because I don't want to.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 33. A Competetive Exam?

2005-03-30T22:00:00.000+05:30

These days, I have been delaying writing these very few dreams for some reason or the other. And with that, I don't even know what I am writing about.

Yesterday night, it had to do something with Krishna and Nikhil. We all were writing some kind of a competetive exam. I had a vague feeling that its A.S.Rao's.

Whatever it was, its totally weird. Each one of us should enter a closed cubicle. Its more like a jail than anything else, only jails might be having more space than these. I think it was meant as a precaution. Lucky that I haven't been claustrophobic atleast in the dream.

Somehow, the question paper was kind of leaked. We three together were eager to discuss about it, and were coming out of the cubicles whenever possible.

God knows what happened to the exam. My present performance graph lets me predict it quite well, though.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Dreamz Unlimited: 32. Meet My Favourite Teacher

2005-03-28T22:00:00.000+05:30

This one, after a long time, came when I wasn't near my computer. I couldn't record it immediately. It has been almost 3 days andso obviously the important details are all missing.

After over 3 years, I along with some of my friends wentto meet our teachers in Ramaiah. I don't remember who all came but, I remember Anirudh very well. We all first went to some restaurant and had a sumptous meal.

When we reached the place of our pursuit, I found that it was no more the place that we all once worshipped. It looked like my new Spring Dales Public School building.

We went directly to the classes. First, we went near Koteshwara Rao Sir's class. He saw us and I thought he didn't like us interrupting. We then silently went back. While going back, we were seen by Partha Saradhi Sir who immediately came near the door and asked us to wait downstairs.

We went down and were all anxiously waiting. We haven't met them for years. And then we did a huge mistake by barging into the classes.

First, Partha Saradhi Sir joined us and started talking to us. Everything was fine till then. He was very friendly. We asked each other the casual questions and later he started talking to the good and famous students. I was left out, along with a few others.

In a few minutes, Koteshwara Rao Sir also came down, with a cigarette dangling between his forefinger and middle finger. It never changes. He didn't look very enthusiastic and we(especially me) were all excited about meeting him for our own obvious reasons. He sat on a chair and was talking to all of us. Partha Saradhi Sir went out, may be the time was finished. Anirudh sat closest to Koteshwara Rao Sir talking to him personally, and pangs of jealousy rose in me. Here is my friend talking to my favourite teacher. I was left out.

I was staring at Sir with adorement, for quite sometime before he noticed it. He asked me, "Why are you looking at me like that?". I said, "Nothing Sir, I haven't seen you for ages." He smiled and started giving a small speech, to everyone in general which was a bit philosophical. I was lost in admiration. The next day, I thought I remembered everything that he talked. Now, I don't have an idea about what it was all about.

A few other strange things happened, outside, after we bade adieu to Sir. I don't remember and I don't care.

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.

Cheating the Gallows

2005-03-20T22:00:00.000+05:30

How many of you have heard about Israel Zangwill?

Atleast how many of you have heard about any of the following?:
Children of the Ghetto, The Bachelor's Club, The Old Maids' Club, The Big Bow Mystery(the first locked-room murder novel!), Ghetto Tragedies, The King of Schnorres, Dreamers of the Ghetto.

Though I heard of some of his books, I had never heard of Israel Zangwill before. 1864-1926. A Jewish born in London. Famous fiction writer, dramatist, essayist and political activist. Blah blah blah. You know where to find something about him. That is not my point.

Sometime back, I read The Best Crime Stories of the 19th Century, presented by Isaac Asimov. Giving considerable credibility to Asimov, those stories must have been really some of the best. I don't remember most of them now, though I didn't forget them completely either. They had just been replaced from the primary memory.

But there is one story that I still can't forget. Its not Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Redheaded League. Its not that of Edgar Allen Poe, or of Nathaniel Hawthorne or of any other. It was Israel Zangwill's Cheating the Gallows(1893).

The short story is a gripping crime story. One of the most monotonously increasingly interesting one I have ever read. Not that I read a lot.

The title of the story could be frustrating in a way, as we don't understand its significance until the last paragraph of the last page of the story. That is when one can be totally bowled over.

The last line still rings in my ears - The only thing that puzzles me, though, is whether the law has committed murder or I suicide. I remember those words to this day, after about two years.
Certainly, the story is filled with highly incredible and unbelievable events, not characters. But somehow, there is a growingly compelling feeling that it could all be plausible. The story has its shortcomings too, like most(or all?) others. I thought that the Police must have been very amateur during 1893, according to Israel.

With a moral on the perils of greed, it was surprisingly captivating. Israel also wrote a few very good one-liners like Women are false - as false as men.

One of the best stories I have ever read, you can find it too at the following link: http://www.hillsdale.edu/Personal/Stewart/Mystery/Zangwill%20(1893-02)%20Cheating%20the%20Gallows.pdf

Can anyone of you help me with finding any of his books, especially The Big Bow Mystery?

Disclaimer : I hold no responsiblity whatsoever legally or otherwise, if you sense any problems - physical, psychological, spiritual or any other - after reading these posts.