Certifiable Test Case

Trial Post from OneNote

2008-03-04T12:33:00.001+05:30

The amazing thing about Office OneNote is that you can blog stuff written directly in OneNote into any blog on Blogger, Win Live Spaces, and even Sharepoint. This post was automatically created from Office OneNote 2007 and published onto my blog on Blogger. If this isn't an incentive to blog more frequently, I don't know what is.

I am to B.E, so I will BE

2007-04-05T21:19:00.001+05:30

Amidst all the cacophony and pandemonium sparked off by an army of relatives who have converged home for my cousin's upanayanam (coming of age function), a small insignificant thing happened in the wee hours of today morning: I turned 22.

This birthday is especially special [typical Madrasi tautology :-)], for it marks the culmination of four years of labour at Anna University :- come May, the 200 year old institution entitled the College of Engineering, Guindy will open its doors and kick out the class of 2003. Of course, in two months, I will most likely join another century-old institution - but that is a separate post in itself.

I, along with 800 odd others who embarked on this journey four years ago, am (almost) a Bachelor of Engineering. It's a scary role to play. In the days of yore, kings, princes warlords and barons were exalted people, for they provided their subjects physical security from a world that was quite capricious and unsafe. The hapless subjects were only too willing to pay their tithes to a fat overlord in return for the protection accorded by his army.

In later times, when physical security was more or less taken for granted, people revered the priests (and priestesses) and theologicians (and theologiciennes), for the peace of their minds and their immortal souls. These then, were the new aristocracy, and young hopefuls gazed at the clerics with awe, and a desire to aspire to that position.

Then came the Age of Reason, and the prayer-book touting monk was swept away in a wave of scientists. Five centuries saw the rise of scientists of every kind, with newer and newer innovations marking the turning of the calendar.

Today, when the technology we use has almost conquered and subjugated our daily lives, it is but natural for people to turn to and revere those that control and make technology. Today the exalted are we, the engineers, and our minds and deeds do have the potential to affect millions of lives, as repeatedly emphasized by an untiring Engineering Ethics professor in a class of sleepy, apathetic students.

With such power, Spiderman reminds me, comes great responsibility. And my resolution for this year is to embark upon another journey with this in mind. May I be able to witness, in a half-century's time, my hand in being the motor of our era and time.

That thou art mindful of it....

2006-09-27T13:58:00.000+05:30

The morning sun shone brightly and a beam of light passed straight through the canopy of overhead leaves and came to rest on a grey sedan, glinting off its windscreen. The car drove purposefully on for a few hundred yards, and then slowed down to make the left turn to its destination.

The person driving the car was an epitome of the ubiquitous morning work-bound commuter: starched cotton trousers, leather belt, a plain white tweed shirt, patent-leather black shoes and a face screwed up in anticipation at the ordeal ahead. In short, just your average working Joe; nothing really unusual about his looks.

It is writ in the classics that men trembled at the passage to the netherworld even though the passage be just once. The person in the car made the journey to Hell every single day.

And true enough, there was a Cerberus substitute at the gates. A hefty, hirsute brute growled menacingly, and with all the menace that he could summon, extended his arm pointing to the horizon on the right.

The man in the car hesitated. Maybe he could explain his situation; show the guard that with the pain he suffered he could not possibly abandon his vehicle at the gates for the journey within. But Cerberus is not amiable to persuasion; and mistakes hesitation for affront. The guard brought his fist upon the car's bonnet (the man winced), and in an enraged bark told the man to park without.

The man did so, and started walking towards the nearest prefecture. But he never completed the journey on foot. In a few minutes time, a colleague was offering him a ride to his destination. The man looked back to see Cerberus frisking another person at the gates.

"How did you get in?", the man asked.

"Easy", was the reply. "I said that I was from a company and showed him the offer letter. He couldn't find the difference"

"Ah", said the man, and commented no more till they reached the building he wished to enter. A large crowd hung about the building with no one seeming to enter.

The man stepped forward and asked someone else "Don't we have a test today? Why is everyone just standing about?"

"The test was cancelled. There was a raid in the dwelling-places last night, and no one was prepared for it. They couldn't study, you see."

"But why was there a raid?"

"So that students wouldn't waste time; instead, they would study."

"But they didnt study, so that makes sense?"

The other person shrugged his shoulders.

"That's too bad. You see, I have a meeting here at 4, and I can't leave for home yet. So my whole day here is going to be wasted."

And it was.

----

The man walked back to the gates under the evening sky, his meeting having successfully concluded. The guard at the gates said " Your pants have thick consistency, they're forbidden. I'll be watching for you tomorrow."

The man took his sedan, and drove out of the gates. The streetlight illuminated the fountain, and the writing on the ledge behind was clearly visible to all passers-by: Anna University.

I've been working on the railroad...

2006-05-28T20:36:00.000+05:30

Making long trips to Bombay every summer of my schooling, I have always been found of Indian Railways, which I have always believed was an extremely well oiled machine, for the sheer volume of the people and goods it has to handle on an hourly basis. Albeit one of British legacies to India, it is one of the best maintained, and we Indians have every reason to be proud of the world's second largest railway system.

Therefore I was quite heartened to year that the turnover of Indian Railways for the year 2005-2006 was close to 9800 crores, and that the railways has been consistently making a profit, having generated Rs 13,000 crore worth internal resources as also surplus revenue of Rs 11,000 crore over the past three years.

And the man responsible for this sterling performance is ironically a politician reviled in the popular media for his "dacoit" image and total lack of "savoir faire". Railway Minister Lalu Prasad Yadav.

On May 4, 2006, the PTI reported that Lalu Prasad Yadav had declined ideas from a delegation of IIM professors on how to run his ministry. IIM-A don Professor G Raghuram was the head of a committee that had predicted the railways would incur Rs 60,000 crore debt in the next 10 years and slip into bankruptcy,and had suggested that Prasad appoint an advisory board for efficient functioning of the organisation.

To which the erstwhile Lalu replied "No thanks, I think I can run the ministry myself"

And by God, he can!

Being naturally curious, I researched up on Lalu's three year stint as Railway Minister, and it seems high turnover and reserves is not all this spunky demagogue can be proud of. Lalu, as Railway Minister has a tradition of soundly punishing imcompetent bureaucrats in the Railways. Sample the following:

Laloo suspends railway official for ‘harassment’ - May 4, 2005 Deccan Herald

Laloo turns back late employees, Laloo Prasad Yadav raids goods train - July, August 2004

I plan to continue this post...so just save it here for a while...

2006-05-26T18:15:00.000+05:30

Give me a reason

Which left hand?

2006-05-22T20:01:00.000+05:30

I have mastered a new art. The art of typing left handed on the keyboard.

Why? The inquisitive reader filled with curiosity, looks askance.

Because my right hand is in a sling. A curious contraption, this sling: it covers my arm from my hands to my elbows, forcing them horizontal, and has a long Velcro arm that wounds round my neck and holds itself in place.

Why? (why the sling, not why does it hold itself in place) The inquisitive reader raises his/her eyebrow as a polite gesture for me to continue.

The sling arose as a result of a small disagreement between my bike and me on Wednesday last in Virugambakkam, on the busy thoroughfare that is Arcot Road at three in the afternoon. After feeling my back tire wobble, I thought that it would continue in uniform motion along the straight road, as per Newton’s I law. My bike said, whoa, no way. It couldn’t care less about Newton’s I Law. It skid to a not-so-graceful halt, depositing yours truly on the side of the road upon his left side. And it (bike) fell upon me to boot, as my head lay on the road.

Luckily, my helmet saved my face from meeting a needle.

I was, of course, immediately helped up by the drivers behind me, and whisked away to the side of the road to recuperate. Which I did, and drove back home, feeling not so en bon sang but quite all right.

Of course, the doctors at the Emergency Ward at Ramachandra Hospital thought differently. After examining a couple of X-rays they came to the conclusion that what I had was an undisplaced fracture in the shoulder. What this means in layman’s terms is that a piece of bone over there wants to break off, but my skeletal system is being rather firm in holding on to it.

Way to go, skelly. Hang in there!

And so I have to wear the sling till this obstinate piece of calcium sees the flaw in its philosophy. Which, the good doctors say should be anytime in the next two weeks.

Until then, of course, I am left to explore the left-handers’ way of doing things. Isn’t there a Southpaws’ club somewhere here? Where do I sign up?

Minsara Kanna

2006-05-01T19:25:00.000+05:30

The Tamil Nadu Electricity Board has been computerised.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I must be slightly wrong in the head. (My friends, the ones who know me well have long since removed this from the realms of supposition and transferred to the realm of cold plain fact). But I assure you, gentle reader, that I am as sane as you, but have a desire to start from the very beginning.

So, the TNEB has been computerised.

This, of course meant that four sparkling new PC's found their way into the electricity board's office in Iyyapanthangal, where I reside. Now where is Iyyapanthangal? Have you heard of rural India, as in debates like rural v/s urban India? Iyyapanthangal is rural India. Iyyapanthangal is hoping someone will call it urban India but that is another story.

The PC's fascinated the simple village folk around the EB office. "Kampyuter vandhudchu..." (Computer's come) was the refrain heard from the old roadside paan chewer who makes an occupation of jeering at those who visit the EB office. "Engavana kattalam, kampyuter irruku.." (You can pay anywhere, there's a computer). The simple rustic folk that lend Iyyapanthangal its rural colour were awed and fascinated.

Till they went to pay their bills.

I was there, dear reader in the crowd in front of the EB office on the 15th of June, trying, like all good folk of this neighbourhood to pay my electricity bill.

Even as I walked toward the building, I knew something was wrong. The crowd was humongous. The EB in Iyyapanthangal has two queues. Both of them had overflown to the road adjacent to the EB building. I took my place at the fag end of the queue and waited.

After 15 minutes of reflection in which I had roamed the world mentally about thrice, something struck me as odd. Bringing my mind back to where my body was, I found the answer. In a quarter hour, the queue hadn't moved.

An officer then proceeded to come out of the building and exhorted everyone in chaste English to "come tomorrow" as the kampyuter was repair. Of course, I quote verbatim. Kampyuter in repair, come tomorrow.

The misguided officer had not counted upon the single minded dedication to duty of the rustic Iyyapanthangal folk. No one gave a damn for the "repair kampyuter". They had come to pay their bill, and by god they would pay their bill. A few opinions were flung around, saying that paper and pen was probably better.

The queue inched forward. No sorry, millimetered forward. For the first two hours I checked my watch every 15 minutes. Then, of course, I stopped checking. My watch, clearly insulted by my apparent apathy, promptly stopped working.

I spent the last 45 minutes at the front of the queue. Of course, when I say that, what probably appears in your mind is that I was standing in front of a long orderly line, and the official at the counter was getting ready to take my card and do whatever it is that officials in the eb do.

No, you're wrong. It was more like Tirupathi darshanam. 25 square inches were occupied by 25 people. The small square in the counter, meant for passing 1 card to the officer, was filled with 15 hands, each holding a card. The women were screaming at the men and other women, the men were screaming back at the women who screamed at them and supporting the women who were screamed at by the other women, and the babies, not yet aware of gender problems, were just screaming.

By some stroke of luck, the officer at the counter grasped the card in my hand. I smirked at all those around me. I , not they, after an agonising wait of 3 hrs 45 min., had given my card in.

And the officer returned it, saying "Card yerale, pa" (The card's not rising)

I must have looked bewildered, because she felt it necessary to elucidate "Kampyuter le yerale pa" (The card's not rising in the computer)

I must have now looked completely clueless, because she now made a vague irritating gesture in my hand. Immediately, those behind me in the "queue" managed to lift me right out of the throng, and push me into a side door. (Quite a feat, I weigh close on 70 kilos)

And then I understood. My card had not been entered into the database yet. Of course "yerale" should have given it away, but I am rather dumb.

Another official gazed at me, and proceeded to yethufy my card. Of course, typing at the rate of finding one key in 30 seconds is bound to reduce entry time. And how dare I suggest that this official use the number pad on the right of his keyboard. No, his job was to enter the details and he made quite a job of it.

But after yethufying my card, I was able to pay the bill in 5 minutes.

I hear my milkman is getting a computer. Oh God! I used to like my morning coffee so much!

A pound of axle grease, demands my Shylock.....

2006-04-13T21:28:00.000+05:30

They call this the knowledge economy, and words like IT boom, sensational salaries and out of the world stock options are bandied about like crazy...but here's where the myths are exposed to reveal the real beneficiaries of the current way of life...

Are you ready for this...its auto - mechanics...

As was witnessed by yours truly, whose rear wheel gave way after a party at US Pizzas in Adyar. I was with a friend when...phuss...the tire flopped. We wheeled the bike for a while in search of the above "persona demandana" and were kindly redirected to a mechanic shop at the signal.

The mechanic, on hearing us out, gave us a truly venomous look as he spat on the side of the road, picked up his spanners and set out on the mission - to repair the BOSS

My intrepid friend attempted a conversation with the mechanic:

Mani: it must be a tough job, being a mechanic

Mechanic : grumble grumble

Mani : are you working for someone?

Mechanic: yes grumble

mani: why dont you start on your own?

Mechanic : poda ...*** grumble grumble

It was a very enlightening conversation. After it we preferred silence. The mechanic grumblingly repaired the puncture and we paid him 50 bucks (nightlight robbery) and took the bike away...

Two great blogs

2006-04-13T20:20:00.000+05:30

Guy Kawasaki's comments on bloggers

Free India - Not quite Gandhi style

Apologies - Trust me now...

2006-04-05T21:51:00.000+05:30

Certain facts which i did not know earlier have now been explained to me, and I have to say I apologise profusely to this classmate of mine...because i know for sure that he's the sweetest guy around...and this are not empty words, trust me

Inspiration

2006-04-04T14:53:00.001+05:30

This the text of a speech made by Steve Jobs, one-time and maybe current CEO of Apple Computers. It's very good, so please check it out
Jobs' Speech

It's raining, it's pouring...

2005-12-19T09:27:00.000+05:30

If there's one thing we Chennaites have had a lot of this year, it's rain. Mother Nature seems possessed of a conviction to right the wrongs done to the previously parched metropolis in bygone years, and has opened up her bounty to fall upon the bad roads beneath. Resultantly, half of Chennai is flooded, the State Govt. seems nonplussed, and all the students of Chennai's multitudinous schools and colleges are having a field day at home.

Well, not all. I don't know how many crackpots like me exist, but surely there must be more than one person who would rather go to college and endure lecture than sit at home in a not so idyll lassitude. So, this post is for social animals like me, for it addresses the $64,000 question: What do you do on a rainy holiday?

I put my thinking cap on, and embarked on a quest for ideas. And I got quite a few:

1. Organise your CD collection: If you're a college student whose varied compact discs, digital video discs, and tapes are all in perfect order, there's something wrong with you. Consult a sociologist, you may get some idea as to what you should be doing. For everyone else, here's a beautiful chance to get an old shoe-box, sit in front of the PC all day, and work out which CD's should be trashed and which should be kept.

2. Read a textbook you liked: Now, then, don't look at me like that. Textbooks are really good books if you don't have to study them. Check out an old textbook that you liked reading, and go through it. It'll be interesting, useful and you can impress your friends with some technical terms in the coming days. (Warning: This author is not responsible for any ostracisation that follows as a result of this advice)

3. Call that special someone: Definitely there's someone whom you've planning to call for a long time, but have kept putting it off due to the pressure of events. Pick up the phone, give them a ring, and your day may be made.

4. Wash your bike/scooter/moped/car: This is for people like me, so you can safely ignore this piece of advice.

5. Explore your creative side: Have you ever tried writing a diary? Or a blog? Planning to start reading more? Planning to learn the keyboard, or to sing? What better day to start? Of course, you must be thick-skinned to initial feedback (i.e. your stressed out Std X sibling shouting "Get the hell out of here");-)

6. Manage finances: Start a graph of the money in your purse. You'll find that it always goes one way (down). But you can fight against entropy, you know. Get out the Classifieds coumn and see if there is something you can do. The world is FLAT enough. Ref. earlier post.

7. Prolific Messaging Service (applies to email to): This is a god-sent opportunity to forward messages to everyone you've seen at least once (if you've got free messaging). Keep sending forwards, they're a really nice way to communicate. Send all those useless fwds that you've been saving up. If you want something funny to send, this site has a funny quote of the day section. For hardcore computer techies: I just found this one

"Unix is an operating system, OS/2 is half an operating system, Windows is a shell and MS-DOS is a boot partition virus"

So, get a move on. With so much to do, it's criminal to be just lying there!!!

It's raining, it's pouring...

2005-12-19T08:46:00.000+05:30

The World is Flat Enough.....

2005-12-19T08:26:00.000+05:30

A very interesting article I read today was on a blog I stumbled on by mistake, with the title This WILL change everything. The author posits that places like Bangalore and Chennai, are "peaks" in the global infoscape, and the work produced by these centres, especially in the fields of BPO and ITES, will have the effect of "flattening" the world.

It's a nice thing to hear (for the average AU student, who will no doubt be contributing to the flattening process). Especially after just completing One Night @ the Call Center (which deserves a post in its own right). Vroom's words (in the book) still echo in my mind "America has, like, ten smart people. The rest call us at night."

It's true that legions of Indian call-center and ITES employees are doing Westren World (read American) grunge work. But the grunge work is important, because, believe it or not, it's the grunge work that provides real experience. In five decades, American students may no longer learn the "Hello!World" program. If this scenario were presented to Isaac Asimov or Stephen King, what a novel they would make out of it.

To the real enterpreneurs about to enter the ITES field, its opportunity knock-knock time. Pay attention to what you're doing, bcos' those are the needs you'll have to fill to succeed in coming years. Also don't miss a single opportunity to dream, and use your ingenuity. It'll flatten the world.

Only in India

2005-12-14T20:22:00.000+05:30

Senthil commented today that I hadn't blogged in a long time, and I am one who likes to rectify errors (and create them too). So here's this entry, dedicated to Senthil

A few months back I attended a Group Discussion session at the SQC (they're not doing them anymore, I wonder why :-)), and the topic of that GD was "Only in India". We were supposed to bring out the unique aspects of India in that GD, and I think I commented on the fact that India was the only place you could find life's paradoxes magnified in true colour on the big screen of Society. Well, two news items that have caught my attention recently seem to, in my opinion, reinforce this point.

The Hindu of two months back carried an article on "Changes in CBSE admission procedures", or something like that. The gist of it was that our erstwhile Minister for Eduction, had decreed that all girl children studying in CBSE schools throughout the nation will recieve free secondary education. The purpose of this ostensibly, is to reduce female infanticide, by removing the education fees' motif from parents minds as factor while considering whether they should raise their girl child or abort it. (Yeah, I know that's crude, but I'm making points here)

While only the dim-witted can follow this tenuous argument to its logical conclusion, it is only the faintly moronic who will fail to perceive that this move, far from achieveing that aim, achieves justthe opposite. Consider: it's the private schools that shall suffer, bcos the government school fees are practically free anyway.) With staggering costs, private CBSE schools have to meet a bottom line, and so they will just stop admitting girl students. Voila!

The Hindu, two days ago, carried another article. Chennai-based Indira Srinavasan was awarded by the Internal Revenue Dept., USA, for uncovering a serious bug in the IRS database program that allowed peopel to accumulate interest on tax refunds. She was lauded by the IRS, and by the time they found out her contribution, she had returned to Chennai, and is now settled here for life...

Only in India......

Primus inter primates.....

2005-11-03T19:57:00.000+05:30

...et primus de lineum. Encrypta

In retrospect, like one of my greatest malefactors opined,
mirth, uncontrollable mirth, springs unbidden to the mind on
donating some contemplation to the events of the last semester.
Opinions vary, and the verity of this statement is seldom
not known unless one occupies the position I did.

Everyone needs to know. It is one of the greatest diseases
which will be witnessed in the coming decade. It does not matter
if the information, so obtained, will be acted upon; in fact,
to the contrary, it will be most assiduously ignored until a
hare-splitting deadline forces its way upon the collective
thought process. But the need to know eclipses all other desires;
harmony cruelly disrupted if knowledge is suppressed.

Egregious individuals stood ready, armed with a battle-plan
jerking their beloved primus left and right, leading an
ostensible rebellion - their purpose quite obscure to yours truly,
befitting the higher calculus that beseeches us to step aside.

Angels, were there too, to offer sympathy and condolences.
Shattering prior misconceptions, unlikely friendships and alliances
swelling like the Solway, and ebbing like its tide (Lochinvar)
Hapless, shrewd, manipulative, didactic, perspicacious, perspicuous,
outragious, invidious and confused individuals completed the
lovely kaleidoscope of personalities I witnessed.

Essay is this, inspired by Frater Fransisco Columna, whose
style in the Hypnerotomachia is followed for the message hidden

Kodaikkanal Kandukondain

2005-07-26T18:57:00.001+05:30

Just returned from a trip to Kodaikkanal – NSS Unit IV Post Camp 05, with Arvi, Srinath, and yours truly as organizers. And organization was a nightmare, although the trip was really enjoyable.

The problems actually started before the bus even left Chennai. We had got it into the parking lot of Children’s park in Guindy, and had 46 students grumbling about the distance they had to walk inside. The bus, supposed to leave at 4.30, left after 6 with 51 ready-to-make-whoopee students stuffed within.

You had to hand it to our driver though. Narain Karthikeyan could have taken tips from this guy when it comes to the highway. Within the first three hours, we had overtaken 45 lorries, 23 minivans, and 16 other buses, not to mention motorists and car drivers. That meant, of course, that we’d reached Villupuram by dinner time.

The first night on the bus was rather peaceful (not at all like last year, we brought the roof down). Everyone quieted up and went to sleep by 11.

Reaching Kodai at 8.30 in the morning, we found to our great dismay, that the hotel had not kept its word. With only 9 rooms at our disposal, and with several students waiting, we had a bit of a problem at hand. Of course, we adjusted and left for sightseeing.

We returned to the hotel, aweary at 8, and the rooms still weren’t there. After a lot of arguing, we got 11 rooms, and that problem got resolved.

On top of this, one room key got lost.

The next morning, we faced a dilemna…we had nothing left to see. We solved the problem by a combination of Antakshari, shopping and free leisure time to roam the streets of Kodaikkanal, which is a rather charming place, come to think of it.

Then the driver started grumbling that he needed to reach the city by 6 am the next morning, and that hence, we had to leave Kodai by 2. Knowing his proclivity for life on the fast lane, we made a sort of rebellious halt in Srirangam for an hour and a half. This got him really pissed off, and he applied his anger to the steering wheel with the concentration of a devil. Result: we still reached at 5.15 with one angry driver.

Could hardly stand on Monday, but went to lab anyway.

Great exp. Till next year then.

The Half Blood Prince

2005-07-19T18:56:00.000+05:30

The sixth Harry Potter book released worldwide at 12 GMT on Saturday, July 13, and I got the book from my local library on Monday, which is not a bad achievement. Needless to say, I finished by book by Tuesday evening, and here’s my review of J.K. Rowling’s latest addition to the saga of her character.

Verdict: SO – SO

The book, like Rowling promised, answers a lot of questions that were raised throughout the series. This, of course, is its first fault. Methinks it would have been better to keep the suspense high till the final book. The sixth book is solely for the purpose of finishing the series…it ties up several loose ends neatly and conveniently, and then kills off the only person who knew all the answers.

But then Dumbledore had to die. He was the mentor, and literature offers too many parallels…Obi Wan Kenobi for one, and I’m told something similar happens in Tolkein’s LOTR. Yes, Dumbledore has left us, but before that he told his protégé whatever he could, and so outlived his usefulness.

While the book began and ended well, the middle was horribly boring. In an effort to tie up some things, Rowling gave her character too much purpose for an interesting story. Besides, the pages in the middle could have been used to add tidbits to several other characters: Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood, Hermione [yes, where’s the background].

The choice motif, and Dumbledore’s speech on choice had shades of the Matrix.

Ending was fantastic, though, with that R.A.B. touch, whom I’m betting will be introduced to us the first chapter next book. My bets are on Aberforth Dumbledore or Rufus Scrimgeour. Anyway time and Rowling will tell..

Sophomore no more

2005-07-10T21:52:00.000+05:30

One month into junior year…..and I’m wondering where the hell all the free time I had last year went. Junior year represents a sort of transition…the experience of old combined with new knowledge…but here again I start philosophizing as is my wont.

Here are the highlights of junior year so far:

· Responsibilities: Loads of that on my shoulders right now, being the Rep, being Secretary of GT [Guindy Times, yes, it exists!!], and Camp Sec. in the Unit. Whew! Long year ahead.

· Relationships: A broader perspective on relationships is developing, and I’ve to learn a lot of tolerance and patience this year. Also there are now two junior sets…how time flies

· Reminders on placements: Got loads of advice from seniors, and this year is at least filled with some purpose J

· Fun: There’s been lots of it.

· Boredom: There’s been some of that too.

A Holiday...without travelling

2005-06-23T09:46:00.000+05:30

The summer's almost over and it's time for vacationers to return back to Namma Chennai. Travel agencies keep advertising in the papers about vacations that cost ALMOST nothing. Well, I've just been on one such vacation. And it was in a place that you definitely wouldn't have considered: Chennai city itself. Yes, the city where mercury is more plentiful than water is an ideal vacation spot, and you can stay for as long as you like!! For the still unenlightened here's how you do it:

GUIDE TO VACATIONING IN CHENNAI:

6.00 AM - Time to get up from your bed, brush your teeth [if it's one of your priorities] and head for a brisk morning walk because you sure as hell cant do it after 7.30

7.30 AM - After you've taken an auto back from wherever you've walked to, sink into the dining table chair and enjoy your cuppa. Drink it slowly so that you can irritate anyone who needs to rush off....good entertainment. Take up the paper

9.00 AM - By now, you have reached the obituaries column and can no longer pretend to be engrossed in it. Go back to your bed. From now on, you shouldn't get out of it. And considering the weather, you proably wouldn't want to. Ponder about life

9.03 AM - Stop pondering

9.05 AM - Start staring at your mobile phone. See if you can hypnotise it into receiving some messages. If you can't then send some to your friends, who will actually begin to think that they're pretty good at hypnosis. If messages aren't free, give missed calls.

10.20 AM - Well, it should be this time when you finish talking, or else you need to brush up on conversational skills. Have a nice long bath, but remember the entire city needs water...

11.00 AM - By this time you should be completely bored. If not, then you haven't followed instructions properly. Switch on the TV or log on to the Internet (recommended...i hate the idiot box). That should keep you unprofitably occupied for 2 hours. Have lunch in between

12.00 - 4.00 Go to sleep. If you can't sleep look up insomnia's cure in the Medical almanac

4.30 PM - Another cuppa. But this one should be drunk rather fast...no one's around to get irritated

5.30 PM - Now you can think abt going out. Just think

6.00 PM - Now you should be outside. Walk to the nearest supermarket/novelty store, browse around and come back. Or go play badminton. Or read a book..whateever

8.00 PM - Check mail. I know you just checked it at 12 but it pays to check, right? Have dinner

9.00 PM - Start repenting for wasting the day, and make a resolution to do some useful job tomorrow....say save the world, or learn to fly. The trick is to resolve to do something that's either impossible or impractical. Give your imagination free rein.

10.00 PM - Conscience assuaged, you can go to bed. After all, tomorrow's another day...

My CV

2005-06-21T21:56:00.000+05:30

I have just finished my resume and I'd really appreciate some feedback (on tone, manner of writing, etc..) on it..., so please take time to download it and peruse the contents. Download it here

A Patient Diary -- Part III

2005-06-03T21:35:00.000+05:30

Note: Better read these starting from Part I.

....12.40 is what strikes my eye first. The time on the clock on the wall in the operation theatre on the first floor in SMF in Annanagar in Chennai on this planet.

Relax, I don't think they operated on my brain.

The head nurse beams at me and says: "The operation is over"

I'll say. I am aware of a major pain in the a**. Really major. I try to turn on the bed, but learn excruciatingly that my present position is infinitely better, painwise.

They wheel me back to my room. Same way. L5, L4, L3.

I was just settling in when I found that I had been allotted another room. One that had become free. It was equipped with an AC. So, once again, I was lifted and wheeled to room 514.

I sinked into the new bed, very comfortable, and heaved a huge sigh. Everyone left.

Oh, I am forgetting about Mr. Drip. He came along, too. The IV stand in the new room was rather low, and Drip was hooked onto it. Mine, being a young heart, started pumping with ferocity. The blood from my viens rose into the IV line: the other way round.

My heart froze. My throat didn't. I screamed. The nurse rushed in. I pointed fervently to the maleficent IV line. She calmed down.

"Oh, that can happen", she says, coolly, and proceeds to walk slowly towards the IV stand and raises the bottle.

The blood goes back in and so does the glucose. I h.a.h.s again.

20 minutes later, to get my mind off the pain, I ask my father to get me Baldacci's Last Man Standing, and begin delving into it.

Coconut water arrives at 3 p.m. It seems that certain people experience nausea in their first meal after surgery, as a consequence of a reaction with the anaesthetic. The nurse was present, looking at me anxiously to see if I would puke violently. Well, I didn't.

So I graduated to mango juice, and then to a solid diet.

I eat the idlis, which again form the bulk of dinner. Sleep does not arrive, giving solace over pain, until the good doctor recommends a painkiller injection. That is a situation soon remedied by the nurse, and I drift off, only to awake at 3 pm with unbearable pain, which of course requires another poke of the med into my b***. I drift off, again.

A Patient Diary -- Part II

2005-06-03T12:10:00.000+05:30

I am rudely awoken at 6 am by a hospital attendant, who then calmly proceeded to depilate the concerned area.

I stare at the clock on the wall opposite the bed as it meticulously inches towards cutting-up time. Well, not really. I did stare at it for about ten minutes, then gave up and went back to Morrell. This apprenhension and worry thing does not me bespeak, methinks.

At 10.15, as promised, a couple of strong-armed attendants arrive to take me to my doom.

Holding the IV line (the attender) and walking out of the room (me), I lay down on the gurney. My muscular attenders then wheeled the gurney down to the operation theatre on the first floor.

We see so much of this scene in the movies. Somebody being wheeled on the gurney and his frantic beloved running after it, holding the IV line. We should all try it from the perspective of the person lying down. I assure you, it is not pleasant. Lying down on that thing, all you can see clearly is the ceiling. The gurney was wheeled through the corridoors into the elevator. I saw L1, L2, L3, L4, and L5 rushing past me in a blur. I would have seen L6 too, but we reached the lift.

The lift went down surprisingly fast. Time is relative. Einstein is GOD.

They transferred me from one gurney to another and the door of the op-theat closed, leaving me marooned in horror land. Everywhere I see, there are green and purple gowns, and people, whose faces are covered in green masks.

Even the air seems lifeless, in suspended animation.

Drip. Drip.

They are wheeling me in, now, and with smiling eyes the anaesthetist drags out a long syringe, puts it into the nozzle of the IV gauze and presses the plunger. A cool liquid flows into my veins.

I turn my head to look at the IV line.

Drip. Dri......

A Patient Dairy -- Part I

2005-06-02T23:36:00.000+05:30

The nauseous fumes of disinfectant waft towards the bed from the open bathroom, as a premonitory sort of welcome to the new inhabitant. Me.

I am in Sundaram Medical Foundation, admitted as an in-patient for the "excision" of my "pilonidal sinus cavity", a cavity between my spine bone and my pelvic girdle in which a few foreign particles saw a chance to make a comfortable home. This, of course, caused the doctors to shake their heads sadly..."Surgery is the only option, I'm afraid".

Even I'm afraid. I have always been scared of hospitals. The impersonality, the starched uniforms, the grave countenances, the stuck-on smiles of the nurses, the grim faces of surgeons..brrrh..hosptials give me the shivers.

The room was on the second floor, directly below the terrace (which made it unbearably hot), and looked out into a petrol bunk. I know, because I looked through the window. I had to keep it open, steeling myself to the thought of mosquitoes making merry, to combat the heat.

We have got to get this room changed.

I opened the Agatha Christie, and started reading.

Dinner came at eight. Three idlis, sambar and pudina chutney. I have a rather voracious appetite and I glanced sadly at those idlis. My mistake, because they were rather filling. A very good canteen the people at SMF run.

At around ten, a young, jolly, chubby-faced junior surgeon paid me a visit.

"How are you, da? (Yes, he really said da) We're thinking of cutting you up at 10 tomorrow. Don't worry, it's a piece of cake. (piece of flesh??) And oh, don't eat anything from now on. Ciao!!"

My operating surgeon, of course, walked in a few minutes later and glared at me, (not maliciously, of course, he just had the habit of glaring at everyone) saying very little, but confirming that he would operate at 10 in the morning. The nurse, meanwhile, was searching for the right vein in my left hand. She found, and pushed in the IV line. The doctor left, after glaring at me once more. The nurse measured my BP, and left.

Drip.

Drip.

One more Drip.

This room is unbearably stuffy. Never knew Annanagar was this hot at night.

Some more drips.

I put down David Morell's Nightscape, and close my eyes, plunging my psyche into a troubled sleep

Drip.

Bajjis on the Beach

2005-05-28T10:35:00.000+05:30

Although I, like most other Chennaites, am aware that Chennai is home to the second largest beach in the world, it's the less well known Elliots beach that I visit more frequently: in fact so often, that it' s almost like second home.

Invariably all my visits to the beach culminate in the Bajji Kadai; and although there are tons of them in the beach, my personal favourite is the one closest to the Merry-Go-Round.

Molaga bajjis are definitely the raison d'etre of this stall. It makes some of the crunciest molaga bajjis i have eaten. A word of advice, though, eating molaga bajjis is a lottery: the one we got last time contained so much spice, we had to down ice creams to really quench the stomach.

Potato bajjis are a favourite of mine ( as evidenced by my burgeoning pot-belly, whose growth rate is commensurate to that of a MNC BPO in India). But potato bajjis on the beach don't tend to be lip-smacking; they become sort of flat...definitely an area for improvement.

Next to the Molaga, it is the Onion bajjis that you must try. But they retain too much heat, and so its quite diffcult to get the real taste without scalding your mouth.

A word of caution: down with moderation -- or unfortunate side effects result the morning after :-)

'I'd like you to meet...ME!!'

2005-05-22T22:47:00.000+05:30

A team of researchers, led by Professor Hwang Woo-suk, announced one of the major scientific advances of the decade on Thursday in Seoul: the ability to prepare patient-specific stem cells, paving the way towards treatment of genetic diseases. The same team was the first in the world to successfully clone a human embryo, and this advance means that cloned cells can be inserted into a surrogate mother and be accepted by the human system -- put simply, human cloning can be brought from the realms of fantasy to human reality.

What, exactly, are the layman's (or lay-colleger's) views on cloning? Although its been there for a while, and has suggested several imaginative scenarios, I doubt that the consequences of cloning (whether beneficial or maleficent) have impinged themselves on the mind of the collective consciousness. I was curious to know, and so I quizzed a few people on this...

Some collegers feel (rather vaguely) that cloning is a good thing. Why? Well...uh..you know...er..well, its a hi-tech thing, you know...er, can't cloning improve genes or something...of course, it should not fall into the wrong hands, no, definitely not! So whose hands are the 'wrong hands'? Uh, well, I have no idea. Are they in the right hands now? Yeah, i guess so..

So much for the collective consciousness.

Actually, I think this is because people aren't quite aware of what or how the cloning is actually done. Upto now, even I had the vague notion that you could cut off a piece of tissue, put it into some sort of thingamagic and whoosh...a new you! Of course, it isn't anything like that, as the figure on the left will show. In human terms (as quoted from the website whose link is below) : A "human clone" is a time-delayed identical twin of another person. A clone is not an exact replica of the original, but just a much younger identical twin.

So is cloning good or bad? Opinions vary. Researchers argue that human cloning could be used to combat genetic diseases (cure for cancer...), and perhaps combat the ill-effects of aging.

The problem is that scientific applications go far above the layman's head. Religious leaders cry out in outrage: "Can man play God?". One of the most famous opponents of the cloning practice is none other than George W Bush, who issued a statement against the research a few days ago. There are several compelling ethical arguments against cloning, too: objectisation of people, loss of human dignity, and so on.

So my views? Research into human cloning should definitely accelerate in the years to come...but there have to be both political and economic sanctions imposed on such research. As Prof. Woo - Suk commented it will take years for the techniques announced to start benefitting humanity. But cloning, once perfected, will, I judge, have benefits that will outweigh the costs.

And the down side! Maybe two of me. God knows I have enough problems with just the one!!

Click here for more arguments on Human cloning

Light metal

2005-05-21T11:49:00.000+05:30

Just saw Robots on Friday, sitting in a matchbox of a theatre two seats away from the screen. We went in about 10 minutes late, and it took my deficient eyes three or four minutes to adjust to the rapid movement of screen pixels occuring 15 feet away. But the movie was good enough. The triumph of innovation and honesty over greed...same blah blah... but I liked the message immensely: You can shine no matter what you're made of . And the dominoes scene was a work of art; must have taken days to animate. If you're really really idle...it's worth watching this film.

Mumbai Express

2005-05-04T20:10:00.000+05:30

I know this a rather late review of the movie, but Anna University examination schedules are hardly sympathetic to new film releases. But better late than never, and as of this instant I have watched both the blockbusters of the summer of '05.

First of all, the movie. For the nomenclature, there's very little of the real Mumbai in the film (except perhaps, the Dharavi garbage dump). And yet this license is not something we should be nitpicking on, because the film is wholehearted comedy, something on the lines of Panchathanthiram (although no way near that opus).

Many people would have trouble believing this to be a movie. There are no song/dance sequences, no young damselles, no action/fight sequences, and even the few chase scenes are interpersed with a modicum of comedy.

Basically, the plot is this. Avinashi, a daredevil motorcyclist, is also the brother-in-law of a habitual drunkard, who is part of a gang planning to kidnap an industrialist's son for ransom. A malevolent appendicitis leaves this drunkard helpless till he suggests the hapless machan to take his place.

Here's where the fun really starts, because, of course, the wrong boy is kidnapped, and the crooks cart away the Assistant Comissioner's son. But it's ok, because the son is actually illegitimate, and the last thing the AC wants is (ironicaly) police and publicity.

I believe the story would have done very well as a book...its almost like Wodehouse's romantic comedies of errors, but its not really for the visual medium. Manisha Koirala is extremely underused, and her character isn't deep enough. Kovai Sarala is totally unnecessary in the film. Pasupathi(Chidambaram or A), Ramesh Arvind(the LIC guy), and Nasser (Assistant Comm. S V Roy) excel. And the comedy of errors at the end of the film almost makes up for the mess made in the middle.

On the whole, worth watching once abt sums it up.

The Sands of Time

2005-04-05T00:20:00.000+05:30

I have turned 20, as of now.

Birthdays are always fun. Or at least, I enjoy them. It’s a good day to do some introspection, to analyse yourself, to ask yourself the questions that you are too busy to bother about the rest of the year. On every birthday in the last few years, I’ve asked myself where I’ve started the last year from, and where I’m going this year.

Tomorrow, (that is today, since I’m writing this at midnight) is of course time for a deeper introspection, as all landmark birthdays are. With this one, of course, I can no longer be technically called a teenager. I’m also supposed to be wiser: but my friends vehemently insist that I’ve only grown more idiotic this year – thanks, guys, it’s nice to be a nut.

But, I digress. This year has taught me lots! Beginning, of course from Bombay, a visit that I will treasure, because it sort of reshaped my priorities a bit. Funny how a few days can change your outlook.

Then a chaotic III Sem., and the bond-building with friends (esp. Hyderabad Blues: always good for a few laughs). SSN’s tech symposium. Dancing in the corridors, hangman in Digital Systems classes, and fun in DBMS. Plans framed in August, for brochures to release in Nov., announcing Enzyme Ads (naiveté, but the concept of course was sound). The Digi Project, and the associated tension. The onset of personalities and clashes.

A month of employment (a most boring one, at that) that occupied mid-November to mid-December, which was another eye-opener that showed exactly how humans are all connected to each other, and the dependencies that sometimes we take for granted. “No man is an Illand, entire and of itself” – John Dunne.

Come Christmas, and the crystallization of Enzyme Marketing Solutions. The AIMS project, with an ambitious start, but which threatened to explode in our faces till we managed to convert it into a small success. Saarang, which I enjoyed, and which gave me an insight into relationships and the way they work.

Pondy Trip: a truly enjoyable experience, and something that cemented a few bonds that had had a shaky foundation previously. The Ides of March, wherein each day brought laughter, where Spring brought its own freshness into life, and we could just become crazy. (I think this is why the idiocy comments started). The end of March, with a new look on The Guindy Times (did I mention personalities?).

In all this, two quotes that I’ve recently read seem to round off what I’ve learnt this year. One of them is in a Perry Mason book – The Case of the Perjured Parrot (recommended light reading):

“Men attach too much importance to (paper) money as such. A rupee represents a token of work performed, and men are given these tokens to hold until they need the product of work performed by some other man, and anyone who tries to get a token without giving his best work in return is an economic counterfeiter. Depressions are caused when people try to get as many tokens as possible in return for as little work as possible..”
And the other of course, I’ve covered in the previous post, and demonstrates very clearly the futility of knowledge without application (the engineer in the Sahara desert)

And so, happy birthday to me…for each b’day is an awakening. And what this year holds is known but to the Sands of Time

To B.E. an engineer!!

2005-04-01T20:36:00.000+05:30

Attended the college annual day function today, where the chief guest was Mr. Mahadevan, Director, India Pistons Ltd.—a really fascinating person. A mechanical engineer, and an old friend of the Dean’s, he was in his element today, presenting his views on “The traits of a competent engineer”. His anecdotes were extremely hilarious but at the same time insightful and perspicacious: here’s the one I enjoyed most, which came when he was talking about the stereotype of an engineer in people’s minds

A man was lost in the Sahara desert, and five hot days under the boiling Saharan heat had just about taken the life out of him. He was trying to reach the nearest army base or whatever outpost of civilization he could find. After five days of surviving on the barest of food and water, he happened to meet another guy.

“Where am I?”, asked the man of the stranger.

The stranger reflected a while and then, with an extremely grave countenance, replied “You are 24 degrees 32 minutes N of the Equator and 42 degrees 50 minutes E of the Greenwich Meridian.”

The man digested this and said “You must be an engineer.”

The other guy said, “That’s right, but how do you know?”

The man said, “Your information was extremely precise, and extremely useless!”

I fear that that’s exactly what we may become in a few years if we don't do something about it.

P.S.: EC lab end sem on Monday!!! Its been easy for evry1 so far, and this is what worries me extremely.

Abacus 2k5 kicked off!!!

2005-03-14T22:04:00.000+05:30

I don't know how the other college delegates or the organisers felt, but to me the first day of Abacus 2k5 was a letdown. There was a complete lack of dynamism in the proceedings, and the fact that all the people who had come could fit entirely in the front half of the Audi hardly seems commendable for CEG's top tech symposium. Given the time investment and the magnitude of sponsorship, something better could surely have been done.

Maybe I'm judging prematurely, though, because I didn't attend the afternoon session: which included Impromptu and the Treasure Hunt. Now these would have been interesting, and the whole class could have been appreciative witness, were it not for a mule-headed PQT professor who insisted on taking class from 1 to 3. Poor Gopi, he had gone earlier to try and cancel the class but got his head chewed off!!

After an hour of Markov chains that all of a sudden, upon the satisfaction of inexplicable criteria, became Ergodic, we couldn't really stand any additional boredom being heaped on. We decided to give Abacus the miss-in-baulk, and went back to Vels room for the matinee (Matrix Reloaded).

And it had hardly reloaded when we got a summons from Balaji, and proceeded to the Alumni Centre to polish off what was left of the Gobi Manchurian (which was pretty good). But on the whole, an extremely boring jour.

PS: I got a 14 on the PQT second assess, which reaffirms my faith in miracles and has transformed me from a skeptic to a spiritualist:-)

5.Someone

2005-03-13T21:31:00.000+05:30

I got my hands onto “five-point someone” finally (thanks Nithya!), a book I’ve heard loads about and have wanted to read for a very long time. The book was an OK read, but the author certainly got his topic right. There are going to be no spoilers here, and I suggest that you read the book first if you want to understand what follows.

I’m not exactly Ryan, but I sympathise completely with the guy. I mean, seriously, throwing up a work of pure genius just because a five-pointer of no repute came up with it? Some of the passages in the book, which the author must have thrown in to highlight the concept of conformity to the system, seem incredible at first: eg. Vohra’s design class: I can’t believe that any self-respecting professor would rubbish that work without even looking at it.

On the concept of the crappiness of the GPA system, Ryan and I are one! Luckily, no one in CEG takes the assignments and assessments that seriously!

The way Hari’s “issues” were brought up by the author was pure brilliance. One paragraph – actually just a set of questions, spoke eloquent volumes of explanation. Fantastic writing in that section, actually – I really thought it was the best part of the entire book.

On an aside, Neha seems real cute, but a bit unbelievable!!

Must-read!!

Watt a course!!

2005-03-10T21:27:00.000+05:30

Electronics Lab is one of the most amusing courses this semester. I have never pretended to be fascinated by the virtues of pure silicon and germanium stringed together with the help of resistors and capacitances into a flimsy, unreliable circuit. But there is something purely comical about the theory when it assumes the concrete shape of fit-in-my-fingernail capacitors and “how-many-ohms-is-that?” resistors!

For today’s EC lab, Kalpana and me had teamed up with Mani and Malathi, which in itself is good for a few laughs. I swear, you must listen to the dialogue between these two to get some solid enjoyment out of life. She views him with bemusement, while he treats her with condescension. The combi is truly fantastic to watch, trust me!

Anyway, my jinx with modern electronics struck home once again, as all the other circuits (except the one yours truly had made) were up and working in no time at all. Forget astable, we felt that we were lucky enough to get something on the CRO. The squiggles on the LCD display looked as if an inspired Picasso had been let loose into the damn instrument, and we got everything on it but the wave we so badly wanted.

After three hours of pure electronics torture, with timely (and completely unhelpful) inputs from the oh-so-friendly lab assistants, we made the sane decision of relegating this experiment to the next lab session.

Procrastination Part 1

2004-11-10T11:02:00.000+05:30

I have been wanting for a very long time to write a post on procrastination

But I think I'll put it off till tomorrow.

:-)

Go away.. I'm busy doing nothing!!!

2004-11-09T20:51:00.000+05:30

Sys. Soft exam just got over yesterday (and the paper nearly broke my arm off) and being in no mood to start up on DBMS, I dedicated the day to total and complete idling.

To those of you who think, well duh, I idle just around everyday: - well, you may be right in as far as your conception of idling goes. If you think that idling simply means not doing what you’re supposed to be doing, well that differs a lot from what I’m trying to project.

Many of you have said, when I’ve given you a call, and asked what you’ve been up to: “Well, nothing da”. When actually you’ve been seeing a movie, or chatting on the Internet, or doing something pointless. But doing something.

While my definition is just to lounge somewhere and philosophize and eat and sleep and….well, you get the idea.

And it’s not working. Because today is a day when I really have nothing to do.

This is a curious conundrum. Jerome expressed it aptly when he said

“It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of
work to do. There is no fun in doing nothing when you have nothing to do.
Wasting time is merely an occupation then, and a most exhausting one. Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen.”

Ah how true that is. Consider this scenario:

You have an exam the day after, and its one of those papers where everyone in your class has aced their internals. Everyone but you. So your hopes of saving your sagging GPA depend on a grinding all-nighter. But you’ve also promised a very close friend that you’ll fetch him a book he needs from your college library.

And your heart’s innermost desire is to be idle.

But in the hols, when society around you is giving you that break you always wanted: you’ll be the most active person around, going out with friends, chatting up with old acquaintances, playing games, doing all sorts of stuff.

It’s inexplicable.

But a treat to anyone who can find the answer to this one: Why does everything get done at the last minute?

And mini treats for wacky and imaginative answers.

Hurry!

PS: For those who want to read the entire book, I would wholeheartedly recommend it!
Click here to read Idle Thoughts of an Idle fellow, Jerome

This medicine is for cinemagoers...

2004-11-02T18:45:00.000+05:30

Yeah, I know. I haven’t posted in a long time. That’s the funniest thing about the academic schedule at Anna University. It starts slowly, continues slowly, and for the first few months each semester you think you’ve got plenty of time to do all those things you always wanted to do once in college. Pretty soon, except you don’t know how, there’s only one month left for the sem and every professor has scheduled his lectures in such a way that 60 % of the course will be covered in this last month. October was a “last month”!!

But somehow I still found time to go and see both “Bride and Prejudice” and “The Terminal”

I’m not going to waste much time on the former. The less said about that deplorable excuse for a movie, the better. So I won’t be telling you that at this point Aishwariya Rai would be regretting a monumental judgmental error – one even beyond the league of India’s hopelessly misguided cricket team selectors.

But The Terminal is “au-fait”. Steven Spielberg has produced a masterpiece, and has demonstrated his mastery in visual story telling. And Tom Hanks has once again demonstrated that he is an actor par excellence.

The main thing that struck me was Viktor’s natural outlook on life. Everything he does, or says, seems entirely natural. He seems to breathe fresh air into Uncle Sam’s musty red tape. Throughout the film, the dialogue has ensured that Viktor never lies; although what he says are construed as evasions and mistrusted by the airport bosses: every word he says has the ring of absolute truth. And that enhances the feel of the movie: anything less, and people would have felt disappointed.

One can construe into the movie a hint of anti-Americanism or anti-bureaucracy, but actually Spielberg shows the predicament of the American mind as it stands today (definitely reflected in the recent election results) of over dependence on process (their own) and a complete short-sighted faith in it being the only way to do things conflicting with their image in a world that is changing both economically and strategically.

But back to the movie. Kumar Pallana did a wonderful job as the eccentric Indian janitor and certainly provided some comic relief. The interweaving of sadness and pleasure in the movie was wonderful and Viktor’s determination in making the best of the queer situation he found himself in is a worthy testament to human spirit.

But somehow, Spielberg made a hash of it in the end. We knew Viktor was going to New York , but I think Spielberg could have delayed his flight some other way. The janitor stopping the plane..well, just a bit off the rails in an otherwise sound and cohesive plot.

Ritchie Rich!!!

2004-10-02T20:21:00.000+05:30

Went to Ritchie Street today to buy components for my Digital project.

Ritchie Street is a dingy little hellhole of a lane on both sides of which are stacked electronics shops. The place is a Mecca for an ardent techie: the shops on this road are not just present – they are piled up one on the other – all of them dealing in the same electronics goods, trying to cut each other’s throats and loot the unwary customer.

You have to see it to believe it.

The SMS Man and me went across this labyrinth of streets, designed only to fit a finite number of human beings, and whose inhabitants and visitors don’t give a damn about this all-important boundary condition.

We went to this cubbyhole in the wall whose signpost depicted a defunct integrated circuit, and asked the surly guy behind the counter “Do you sell IC’s?”

Pat came the reply: “What number?” This question is only to separate the cognoscenti from the casual browser who wastes the shopkeeper’s time.

We gave him the number. He stroked his beard and ruminated for a while. And then parted his mouth just a bit, and said “Try this shop in Narasinghapuram Street!”. And shooed us out.

We went there. You must excuse us, because our enthu was quite high at this point.

It turned out that that cubbyhole did not have one particular IC that we needed. However the guy over here was so gratuitously helpful, he had phoned a dozen merchants (no doubt somewhere along the pile) and had promptly ascertained that none of them had that chip either.

But you have to give these guys the networking award. If my friends can’t service the customer, send him to my enemies seems to be their motto! And so we went on a fresh round of treading the tired concrete.

The phrase daylight robbery seems inadequate to describe this place! IC’s, which cost negligibly low amounts to make, are being sold at markups that are as high as 1000 %. Seriously. One vendor informed us with a very sympathetic and grave face that the only piece that he had in IC 7483 class was extremely rare in the market, and hence its price had gone up to Rs. 50. And he said it with the ease of the practiced liar, unmindful that he would lose a client.

What prompted this audacity, even in face of such competition, was, of course, collusion. All of them seem determined to keep the prices high, and to keep the customers running, hoping, of course, that fatigue will drive them down to make their purchases in at least one of the shops. Where they actually do, depends on the vagaries of global position, something the dealers of Ritchie Street take in their stride.

Because, of course, the profits are worth it!!

Someday, I will be rich. And mayhap, I shall owe my status to this street. All it requires is some grit and an utter lack of moral scruples.

We spent two and a half hours in this human maze with a population density greater than that of New York City, and when we came out we had two IC’s worth Rs. 24 to show for our efforts!!

All in the life of your average colleger!!!!!

Some crumbs of knowledge.....

2004-09-27T19:45:00.000+05:30

In spite of feeling that way, I went along with the Loudspeaker, the SMS Man, the Movie Maverick, the Ninja, and UH today evening to Pizza Corner.

The reason being: Pizza Corner had this special offer – Unlimited for 99 bucks: too good to resist. And what was hurriedly dumped into my stomach at 11 30 in the morning was a long way into the digestive process.

We went in, and were ushered into the mezzanine (which really sucks, because there’s zero ventilation) and we ordered six of the Garden Fresh variety. The pizzas came soon and we started digging into them.

One of the funniest sights in the world is watching six college guys hog pizzas trying to take advantage of an offer. Especially the Movie Maverick and the Loudspeaker, who set about the task like their lives depended on it. The waiter was sore perplexed, by their speed and ravenousness, and he struggled to keep pace with six ursine appetites.

The Movie Maverick and the Loudspeaker tried to put one over the pizza joint. Reasoning that the crumb was the most unpalatable part on the plate, they started leaving the crumbs out while consuming the slices. Especially the Loudspeaker, who, by the time, had finished his eighth contiguous slice, and whose crumb pile was beginning to acquire the dimensions of the LIC building.

A bemused waiter, while dropping the next slice, told them with a grave face: “You have to eat the crumbs too, sir. It’s part of the offer!!”

Whether he was serious or joking, no one will ever determine. But the Movie Maverick came up with an apt rejoinder: “The thing is, I’m allergic to crumbs.”

Kept!!!

The waiter had no reply for that one.

It was almost 6 in the evening when we decided to abort our plan of bankrupting Pizza Corner, and went tottering home.

And now, I can barely walk!!

Quo Vadis?

2004-09-26T11:42:00.000+05:30

One of the biggest problems hip and hop teenagers face in this self-proclaimed cosmopolis is the problem of where to go out?

The average Friday: two hours in the morning spent sleeping with eyes wide open (b'cos of course, who sleeps on Thursday nights?) and two hours whre you're a bit more awake, but trying to figure out what to do with the weekend?

And you sit along with a bunch of 10 similarly jobless people, who would, of course, like to celebrate their weekend, it being the only respite you get from listening to profs drone, and drone, and drone....

Till one of them makes a suggestion: definitely a movie da.

Well....not so good. Actually, by peer pressure law, everybody is supposed at this point to hop, cheer and say "Let's go!!!!!". But Sathyam theatre has been crashed so many times, its beginning to resemble a classroom.

Or: Coffee Day? Pizza Corner?

Same difference.

I'm crying out loud for some place to go with frens where you can have some fun without watching heroines run round trees, without having to worry about a thinning wallet, or without having to eat or drink anything.

So, apart from the beach, anybody have any good ideas???

To the world....welcome me

2004-09-23T20:44:00.000+05:30

This is just the initial post to get things running. I am now blogging...so wait up for something new.