Conscious and loving it

"The Catcher in the Rye"- Almost a review

2009-05-15T17:28:00.003+05:30

I just finished reading “The Catcher in the Rye” by J.D.Salinger. It was a parting gift from my juniors when I passed out from college. And now, for the review, or rather, my response to the novel:

If you think reading ahead would spoil the book for you, don’t worry. There’s nothing to be spoilt! It’s as bad a novel as can be. It was the first novel I’ve finished in over a year. I thought my lack of reading was responsible for the searing headaches I used to get after reading a few pages of this novel at night. But now I’m sure the culprit was just the novel, and not lack of novel-reading. As I lumbered my way to the final few pages and the long-anticipated climax- and I was a fool to believe that there was a climax, the 'carousel incident' being a strict non-event- my mind drifted to another death-inducing bore (Inducing sleep is a noble thing to do- ask my mum! Saas-bahu serials have gone a step further by inducing thoughtlessness- that dream of nirvana-seekers; but some books unleash a boredom so ghastly that they might induce death). I’m referring to “The Namesake”. Just as Jhumpa Lahiri had done in her literary sleeping pill, J.D.Salinger suffocated me with the insignificant travels and travails of his protagonist.

Holden, the protagonist, is an aimless teenager who gets kicked out of every good school his parents get him into. Fed up with the phonies in his school, the teachers included, he roams around in his hometown New York on his own to keep his parents from finding out that he was thrown out. Our anti-hero utters the word ‘goddam’ with an irritatingly high frequency- I couldn’t find a goddam sentence where he didn’t swear. He calls nearly everyone a phony, notwithstanding the fact that he’s the biggest phony of all- a shameless liar who's pretentious and manipulative. Narcissistic, directionless and a major drunkard, Holden’s almost a juvenile Devdas, or is at least on his way to becoming one. Reading those pages was very painful- especially considering that the book I read before this one was Rushdie’s “Midnight’s Children” and the one I’m reading now is Orhan Pamuk’s “My name is Red”.

They say that “The Catcher in the Rye” is a book about adolescent angst. That, the phony that Holden really is weary about, is ‘adulthood’. Bollocks I say. Good ideas and noble intentions cannot make up for bad writing and the utter insignificance of what’s being described- I would have thrashed this book even if I had read it as an adolescent. Here’s someone who shares my views about this nightmare novel.

But yes, nothing ever goes in vain- this bad little book got me blogging again- reading sure helps me shrug of my laziness to write.

SPAM!

2009-05-15T17:15:00.004+05:30

I return to blogging with 'spam'. In the academic environs of IIMA, spam is ubiquitous. It’s not simply the umpteen mails on the institute email id, or the barrage on the internal messenger ‘Dbabble’- there’s a spamming of gyaan, ideas, gossip, and of course, the mind-boggling sights, sounds and smells on campus. Some despise spam (at least the electronic kind), some live for it, while I like it because it makes the place seem alive. Indeed, the spam in my mailbox and on the google group created for the incoming batch at IIMA makes sure that I don’t miss IIMA while I’m on my internship.

Then there’s spam discussing 'spam'. People on Dbabble justify their spam using principles of logic, and post references and links to videos that substantiate their points. And so it was through one such link that I first watched a Monty Python sketch. (For those who are asking what the hell Monty Python is, please find out- you'll thank me for this). And then, last week, I stumbled upon another meaning of ‘spam’ through another spam message on Dbabble.

Spam: Noun
‘a canned meat made largely from pork’, or
‘a trademark used for a canned meat product consisting primarily of chopped pork pressed into a loaf.’

Now, this ‘spam’ stands for "Shoulder Pork and hAM"/"SPiced hAM". Apparently, my fellow intern’s mum makes spam for him sometimes. Haha! That cracked me up when he told me. On further digging, the link between this ‘spam’ and the friendly neighbourhood Dbabble spam became clear. The link is Monty Python! The term spam, as we now use to refer to repeated unsolicited messages, originated from a Monty Python sketch called ‘Spam’. In the sketch, a restaurant serves all its food with lots of spam (the kind that’s eaten), and the waitress repeats the word several times in describing how much spam is in the items. When she does this, a group of Vikings in the corner start a song:
"Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, lovely spam! Wonderful spam!"
Here’s the video.
Now you know…spam leads to more spam!!!

PS: Here’s a history of how the word spam came to be used as it usually is now.

What's in a name?

2008-06-19T17:08:00.002+05:30

When Sweden scored the other night, I heard the commentator saying "....son" had scored. I presumed it was Larsson. The goalscorer turned out to be Hansson. "Another 'son'", I thought. The 'son' here literally means a son. Such surnames are patronymic- named after the father. What immediately comes to mind is the Norse father-son duo of Erik the Red and Leif Eriksson. But present-day seemingly patronymic names are not, in fact, patronymic. Except Iceland (if you consider Iceland a part of Scandinavia), the other Scandinavian countries have forbidden the use of patronymic names for quite some time. Surnames became permanent when the more usual family name system was brought in- new generations would keep the patronymic of the head of the family at that time. The result of such a law in Denmark was that two thirds of Danes still carry a limited selection of names such as Nielsen, Jensen, and Hansen. (Danish patronymic surnames end with 'sen').

Now, a new law allows a return to the Viking tradition of patronymics. Instead of maintaining a single last name across generations, in this system each generation of children is given a last name that consists simply of the father's or mother's first name with the suffix "son" or "datter" (daughter) added on. More on this here.

P.S.: I wonder why many Poles have surnames '....ski'. Some more on this later :D

Tracks on the tracks

2008-06-18T00:12:00.005+05:30

The last few months of local train journeys have been enjoyable. The reason: my IPod. Immersed in music, it's easy to forget the heat, sweat, smells, taunts, curses, shoves that make a typical train ride. Infact, I've got used to wanting to take the train just so that I can listen to some music. A curious incident happened in the train the other day. The man standing next to me asked me about the music player. He looked a little ragged and surely a man of less than modest means. I was concerned- he was not the kid of guy I'd usually have a chat with. I told him about the IPod and about it's memory. He wanted to listen to it as well and I couldn't say no. The first song was the Liverpool FC anthem "You'll never walk alone". He seemed to like it. We listened together as the next few songs were Talat Mahmood's classics. I hummed along as the IPOD played "Yeh hawa yeh raat yeh chandni". It must have been quite a sight because many in the compartment were staring at us. "Jalte hai kiske liye" was followed by"Shaam-e-gham ki kasam". Taking a cue from me, my fellow Talat fan sang aloud as "Itna na mujhse tu pyaar badha" played. My initial embarrassment gave way to an appreciative (of both the music and the music-lover) smile as we listened to Talat's mellifluous voice. I couldn't see the staring faces anymore, even though they might still have been there. Before I got down, the man complained softly that he did not get to hear songs often. As I took back the earphone from him to get down, we both wished this Ipod mehfil could have lasted a bit longer.

P.S. I'm going to miss the trains once I leave for Ahmedabad. Here is Abhinav's excellent piece on Mumbai's local trains.

RIP DP

2008-05-14T23:38:00.004+05:30

It's been only a few minutes since I stopped crying. DP, my friend is no more. He died in a bike accident this night. I had known this bloke right from the first year of B.Tech. A strapping lad- smart, suave and handsome. The goalkeeper of the college football team. He had this peculiar way of laughing, where he would put his hand on his stomach and let out a staccato laugh. And people would imitate this laughter when pulling his leg. And he was laughing this evening as we chatted in the quadrangle. Feeling bored, he asked for my Ipod and listened to a couple of songs. And then we'll played basketball. Here I was, right next to him, jostling for the ball. And now he's gone. Poof! Just like that. He would get his engineering degree in a few days (posthumously now). He was placed in a good company. And so a promising young life ends.

Is this a dream or is it all a dream? This puts everything into perspective- life, existence, the fickleness of it all. At times, I used to wonder how I'd manage if my parents died someday. Terrible though the thought might have been, I would steel myself to think about such a situation. As I see it now, such pain is only another flavor of life, making it the smorgasbord it should be. I know, that a few years down the line, when I look back at these times, I'll see the laughing Daidipya Kamble. Not the pain, not the tears. Only the good times we've shared at V.J.T.I. Rest in peace buddy!

IPL- Where people kiss and make up

2008-05-07T18:48:00.003+05:30

It was just another lazy evening as I switched to SetMax for the IPL match between Kolkata Knight Riders and Kings XI Punjab. It was the pre-match show, with the studio commentators/models spouting their usual gyaan and making predictions. And then, it was time for the toss. And lo behold! At the toss was none other than Greg Chappel! Yuvraj won the toss and had a chat with Greg. But I was waiting for the mouth-watering prospect of Greg talking to Sourav. And so it began- the Guru and Dada. Sourav explained that he was looking forward to a good performance etc etc. For a moment, I thought I saw a nerve in Greg's neck twitch. That looked eerily similar to a man meeting his ex accidently. He fumbled before asking the second question "And the wicket? Do you think it's a good wicket to bat on?" The 'interview' ended with Greg wishing Sourav all the best. Quite professional I'd say- their conduct during the interview. Well, if Harbhajan Singh can claim Sreesanth is like his younger brother after slapping him, Guru Greg and Dada might as well forget their feuds in the larger spirit of the game!

Driving-Mess-Dizzy

2008-03-21T22:55:00.007+05:30

Last week (or was it the previous one?) saw me taking the long-awaited driving test and passing with flying colors- flying colors, even though I drove at a marvelous top speed of 25kmph! I had been preparing for this ride for months. 3 months to be exact. I distinctly remember having wished the Motor Training School guide "Happy New Year". That would be my 4th training session or so. Things were going well until about the 16th session, after which I couldn't find time for the sessions. And so started a game of hide-and-seek. I changed the route I took to get home from the railway station, in order to avoid walking by the Motor Training School. I dreaded hearing the "Bhole Saheb!" that the trainer is prone to calling me. If the trainer saw me on the road I'd look the other way and pretend I had not seen him. Or maybe duck into the nearest gully. All because I hadn't a clue about how soon or how late I'd get back from college, and hence couldn't book a slot for a driving session. The biggest brat in the country couldn't avoid school the way I did.

The first week of March offered some leisure and I made up my mind to get done with it. The driving license I mean. I trundled up to my trainer with a sheepish grin on my face. The expression on my face might have been saying "Hey old boy! Is this a nice morning or what?" but his face clearly said "Oh! The crown prince is here! How wonderful!" in a sarcastic way. After 3 more evenings I was pressing all the right peddles and was up for the test. The test would be on Friday. But hold on! I was missing something. I had put off getting recommendation letters from my profs for a number of days, and Friday would be the last chance to get them, if I had to post the recos on time. The price of procrastination, one would say. But then I'm one who likes to learn things the hard way.

Frantic Friday : I called up dear old Srikanth. If there's someone I can trust to dig me out of a hole, it's him. Even Jeeves would approve with a "He is quite the man, sir". So, Srikanth agreed to get the letters from the profs on my behalf while I went for the driving test. My driving trainer drove 5 of us trainees to the RTO office in a place in Wadala that resembles a wasteland- the kind you see in movies, where all the bad guys get together to buy and sell hardware. I'd been here before for getting the learner's license, and was not looking forward to spending much time in this foul place. It took an hour for the driving school's agent to set up the test- the relevent papers, the policeman, the car et al. And then I took the test, with only the agent in the front seat. I changed a gear or two, and took a beautiful U-turn- I wish I could draw so well. A bit of waiting, stamping documents and thumb-impressioning later, I left the place, secure in the knowledge that the license was on its way. By 2 p.m. I was back in college, and I found that Srikanth had done some of the cumbersome work I had given him. Finding 2 of the profs turned out to be difficult and it was at 4.55 p.m. that I found myself in Dr.Daruwala's cabin, getting his reco. At the same moment, Srikanth was getting the reco from Prof.Nair, just as she was leaving. As I reached the quadrangle in a daze, I marveled at how lucky I had been. I spent the next hour with Srikanth, idling my time away in the quad , as I have lately been predisposed to doing. And I enjoyed the chocolates gifted by my juniors (I adore them all, the juniors I mean!) since it was chocolate day in college. Life couldn't be better, or what?

A Case for Piracy

2008-02-20T20:57:00.001+05:30

I have been downloading a few classic novels from places like http://www.gutenberg.org and http://www.ebookee.com. Not surprisingly, I could not find books written in the past half a century. Putting up e-versions of these books on the net would amount to digital piracy. So, is such piracy as harmful as publishers would like us to believe? Popular writer Paulo Coelho thinks otherwise.

In 1999, after he had published "The Alchemist", Paulo Coelho was failing in Russia. That year he sold only about 1,000 books, and his Russian publisher dropped him. But after he found another, Coelho took a radical step. On his own Web site, launched in 1996, he posted a digital Russian copy of "The Alchemist."

With no additional promotion, print sales picked up immediately. Within a year he sold 10,000 copies; the next year around 100,000. By 2002 he was selling a total of a million copies of multiple titles. Today, Coelho's sales in Russian are over 10 million and growing. "I'm convinced it was putting it up for free on the Internet that made the difference," he said in an interview at this year's World Economic Forum in Davos.

Here's the full story.

A Twinge

2008-02-15T23:38:00.002+05:30

And so I came back home feeling really good. I had done the day's worth of damage control. My mother had had a great day too. She was back from her weekly discussion (with other like-minded women, I guess) on saintly writings, where many a verse in Sanskrit are also translated and discussed. As we sat chatting, my mum quoted the subhashit which tells that contentment is man's biggest adornment. I reminisced about my 'rants' yesterday and wondered if I really want contentment. Maybe, but only a moment's contentment. I wouldn't expect myself to be content and still have the desire to live. Then came the twinge- what about those who never find contentment? Those, whose life is so full of worries that a moment's contentment is but an impossible dream- the farmer with a debt he can never repay, the refugee who doesn't know where he has to run next, the street urchin who struggles to earn his daily bread. And then I was back to the center of my world- me. I have to prepare for the mid-sems. And 'A' is waiting for me. Oh, what is life? Why do we live?

A Few Rants

2008-02-14T22:55:00.001+05:30

The pallid gloom that had descended on my mind for the past two days culminated in a disastrous Valentine's Day. The gloom was not the effect of some loss or sadness, rather it was the vacuum in my mind. It's my biggest foe- the lack of passion, the lack of desire. My immediate concerns are:

1. The K gd/pi was not so good. I might not make it. With the A interview only 10 days away, it's time to pull up my socks.
2. Today, I lost my cellphone again or perhaps it was stolen. I'm tired of my clumsiness. I'm ashamed of losing stuff bought with my family's hard-earned money. I have to lodge a police complaint tomorrow and get a replacement SIM card soon. I know the process. Just did it last month. And a few months before that too.
3. The mid-semester test is coming up. Three days to go and I have barely started the preparations. I cannot afford to score badly this semester. And yes, there are assignments to be completed; one is to be submitted tomorrow. I'll start writing now.
4. My project guide was searching for our group today. We haven't seen her in more than 2 months. Worse, we haven't started work on the project. Shameful. We have to start in earnest now.
5. I haven't seen my driving instructor in quite a while. 6 more sessions to go, followed by the test. I wonder when I'm going to get a license.

Ah well, tough times are here again, though they are self-inflicted. I see an exciting month and a half ahead. As always, everything will fall into place. Yes, it will.

An Addiction called Online Quizzing

2008-01-26T10:51:00.001+05:30

I spent the first few days of January trying to crack the online quiz at Kurukshetra '08. This is the second one I have spent much time on, the previous being the Mood Indigo quiz. And I have found this to be very addictive. It is great fun, not just because of the joy of getting an answer right, but also because of the thousand things one learns about in the process. Here's an example:

Connect the three pictures.

The explanation:

The first pic is of La Sagrada Família, the biggest Roman Catholic Church in the world, which is being built in Barcelona. The most amazing thing is that its construction began in 1882 and it is proposed to be completed in 2026!

The second pic is of the Lo Shu turtle, a favorite symbol of the Chinese, long believed to bring money, luck, high status and good health- it is highly recommended by Feng Shui practitioners.

The third pic is Melancolia I, an engraving by Albrecht Dürer.

The connection??? MAGIC SQUARE!!!

The Passion façade of the Sagrada Família church, designed by sculptor Josep Subirachs, features a 4×4 magic square (left). The magic constant of the square is 33, the age of Jesus at the time of the Passion. The legend of the Lo Shu, the dragon turtle, has that the turtle has a magic square on its back(right). Melancolia I contains a magic square(bottom pic). In fact, the square on the passion facade is a modification of Dürer's square. More on these magic squares here: 1 2

The post-CAT-result-post

2008-01-09T07:31:00.000+05:30

The CAT result turned out to be a bit better than expected. We were playing box cricket at Hooper's when I messaged and got a reply. A percentile of 99.96! I had indeed sailed English. As I trundled back to college alone, Srikanth called up to say that correspondents from the Times of India were headed to VJTI. Later in the evening, we had a terrific interview, one in which Srikanth pulled their leg more than once (read Srikanth's blog to know his opinion about TOI) . We were joined by a visibly elated Ashish at the end. Srikanth chronicles his experience here.

I have calls from all 6 IIMs. People around me are going berserk. My mum,dad,sis, bro-in-law and even my niece can't contain their joy. My mum has parked herself beside the phone. I was pretty poker-faced throughout yesterday evening- it was no big deal; Srikanth felt the same (boy! are we buddies!). It's perhaps because we didn't consider the CAT to be life-defining (at least not when we took it). As my mum spoke to my relatives, I was glued to the PC (as usual), noticing her excitement and elation. Late at night, my sis told my mum that she only wished she was here to celebrate the occasion (she's moved to London). My mother mentioned that it was 8 January, my grandfather's death anniversary. I heard that, and then came the tears. I went back in time-more than 15 years- my grandpa was telling me a story. A great teacher and a scholar in the truest sense, he's an idol to me. The memory was vague. But in that moment, the bond had renewed. I felt blessed. It had finally sunk in.

Now I know what it means to people around me. Its amazing that a simple test result can give them so much joy. I guess that's what it means to be human. I'm conscious and loving it. And the happiness is richly deserved by my parents, who have probably done more than I have to make sure things went well. I remember my dad's concern when he took me on a tour of coaching classes for MBA on blistering May afternoons. (I had to sacrifice an afternoon nap or two for that!). Congratulations to my family...and thanks!

PS: This is only the first step. The group discussions and personal interviews are still to go. So, it should all be back to normal very soon. By the way, here's a link to the TOI article. There's a pic on page 2 of the e-paper of Jan 9, 2008- Me, Srikanth and Ashish supposedly being 'natural' as we chatted!! What an ego-boost!

PPS: My 'Today's fortune' on Orkut : A friend asks only for your time not your money.
All those seeking a treat from me should note this!

A Look Back at CAT

2008-01-08T07:19:00.001+05:30

Today, the results of the Common Aptitude Test of the IIMs are to be declared. I'm hoping for the best, but the unpredictable English section could spring a surprise (an unpleasant one!). Now that the CAT fever has subsided, I'll take a look at what I did on CAT day.

The morning: I woke up at 7, and was surprised that I had got up on time. Got ready, ate varan-bhaat, made my way to the centre (IES Dadar). I was in my seat by 9.15. Spending time without stressing myself was a priority now. Luckily, right next to the class was a balcony! I amused myself by looking at the confused hordes milling about on the ground below. Then it was time for the test. 5 minutes to go before the start. I was expectant but not nervous. I reminded myself of my little niece- her pranks, her smile and all the wonderful moments she had been with us(She had just moved to London). I was happy and in a great frame of mind. Then it began.

25 questions per section. Ha! Same as last year! This was, no doubt, my favorite pattern because of the fewer questions. I glanced through the paper. I had a strategy in place. I would start with English and try to complete the entire section in 35 minutes; if not then keep a few questions for the end. Then I would choose either Quant or DI, a decision that hinged on the relative difficulty of the two sections.

How it panned out: I did start with English as planned. However, it took me longer than expected. The RC passages, one of my best bets, turned out to be quite a handful and the questions that followed were largely interpretative,with answer choices that seemed equally correct. I could complete 22 questions in 40 minutes, leaving out one passage. Then, I looked at DI and felt it was pretty doable. As it turned out, it was a very easy section this time. I figured that most people would score heavily here, and I would have to do the same to get a good percentile in DI. I managed to solve 14 questions in 50 minutes, saving the data sufficiency problems for the end. Then came Quant. It was not very formula-oriented. The questions were more in the style of puzzles. I got down to doing them patiently, one by one. Since I had an entire hour left when I began the section, I could afford to give an extra 10 seconds or so to every problem, compared to the time I would normally give. This probably made the difference, along with the easing of pressure(I had English and DI out of the way). I was now firmly in the zone, knocking off problems which would confound me otherwise. I solved 16 problems in 50 minutes. With 10 minutes to go, I had to make a choice - Quant or DI. Anticipating a high DI cutoff, I chose to go for the data sufficiency problems in DI and managed to solve 4 of them. And then it was all over.

As I left the centre, I wondered if I had attempted enough questions. Yet, it was the highest number I had ever attempted, much more than I had in the AIMCATs. And to top it, I realized I had not wasted a single minute in the entire 2.5 hours - I had managed not to get stuck anywhere. On the phone, I told my dad that I was happy, but not satisfied. My parents thought I had screwed up badly! Well, today I'll know if all this has come to anything significant.

Aussies, The Umpires and the Media

2008-01-06T20:51:00.000+05:30

India lost to Australia by 122 runs in the Sydney test. I cannot think of a more hollow victory. The umpires made a handful of incorrect decisions in Australia's favor and the conduct of the Aussies was downright disgusting.

The Umpiring: Steve Bucknor and Mark Benson were remarkably poor in their umpiring. What's worse, the wrong decisions came at crucial moments in the match and games in Cricket, or any other sport, are won by wresting control at these very moments. Further, Bucknor seems to make his worst decisions against India. He's been cited for poor umpiring a number of times by the Indian team. What use is it asking for the Captain's report on the umpires if it doesn't factor in the selection of an umpire for a test? There's also a case for holding umpires accountable for their decisions, and reward or punish them based on their performance. It happens in football- referees are in the public's and media's eye (not to mention the managers!) and have to answer to the footballing world at large. Referee Rob Styles did not officiate on a weekend of matches after his blooper in the Liverpool vs. Chelsea game at Anfield.

The Aussie players: Its a given that Cricket is no longer a gentleman's game. But the Aussies, with their condescending attitude towards their opponents, have brought Cricket to a new low. Every time a wicket falls, they indulge in over-the-top celebrations and sport mocking smiles. Remember the way they manhandled Sharad Pawar during the presentation ceremony when they won the test series in India. The 'man with integrity' a.k.a. Ricky Ponting cannot boast of a great disciplinary record. He did not impress with the brawls he had early in his career. Now, Ponting would like us to believe he leads a team of angels. Symonds, for all his 'not walking', at least admitted the injustice with his tongue-in-cheek "I was lucky!" comment.

There was a time in the 90s when Australia was my favorite team. The primary reason? Mark Taylor- My favorite player at the time. I had tears in my eyes when he scored 334 not out against Pakistan, and declared at that moment as a mark of respect to Sir Don Bradman. Taylor was a thorough gentleman, both on and off the field, and probably the greatest captain of the 90s- a key factor in the development of the Aussie winning teams of the recent past. While Kumble is a captain in the same mould, Ponting comes across as boorish and lacking the very sportsman's spirit that he tomtoms.
A quote from a tribute to Mark Taylor

Mark Taylor will be sadly missed. In the final analysis, the record will show that Taylor was one of the greatest of all Australian captains, one of the most prolific run-scorers and a man with few equals at first slip.

However, what will be missed the most is the way Mark Taylor played the game. During his career, he epitomised everything that is good about the game of cricket. He played with a fierce determination, displayed modesty, humility and good sportsmanship throughout a time of great upheaval in Australian and World cricket. He helped bring a sense of dignity back to the game that we have come to love.

Today, what was most disheartening was to see Adam Gilchrist dancing like his arse was on fire when Dravid's bat was nowhere near the ball. One would think the last honest man of Aussie cricket has also succumbed to the cheaters' spirit.

The Media: The loss has been an affront to the collective Indian Ego. People seem to have taken the matter to heart. The news channels have declared war on the 'cheats' - the umpires and the Aussies. People have called in with vitriolic comments. "Bucknor should retire", they say. Somebody even said the umpires made 'barbaric decisions'! Cricket indeed arouses great passion in this country.

Trash I Stash!

2008-01-03T21:33:00.000+05:30

A few days back, my drawer no.1 (the most important one, since it houses my wallet) started leaking papers from the brim. "Time to clean up", I thought. Following is a list of some of the items found:

1. A discarded passport application form

2. Wrappers of Orbit Winterfrost(green) and Spearmint(blue)

3. A mid-semester test paper - Signal Processing I (September, 2006)

4. Design of sawtooth generator using UJT relaxation oscillator.
The paper describing one of our circuits for the Electronics Workshop (October, 2006)

5. A DI practice exercise I solved at TIME.

6. A detailed action plan for October, which I never stuck to.

7. A plastic bag with a thread tied around its neck- I had used it to plug a leak in the overflow pipe of the overhead water storage tank. Not that it worked!

8. A list of candidates for the EESA (The students association) committee of last year.

9. The introductory speech I had prepared for my German oral exam.

10.The case of an anti-allergy ointment!

11. The registration card for a vaccination camp:

Hepatitis 'B' liberation campaign - Get vaccinated for Rs.20
Combo pack: Hepatitis B + Typhoid for Rs.200 only
Free dose for handicap, blinds and B.P.L. Card holders.

I don't know how I managed to get myself registered for it. And worse, I didn't go.
Nonetheless, Rs.20 for the Hepatitis B liberation campaign.

12. A paper where I had noted the various errors that my previous PC (it's still on the table) had thrown up as excuses not to work.(All these during a single breakdown last year)

i. System Error
Windows cannot read from drive C.

ii. System Error
Sector not found reading drive C
Abort, Retry, Ignore, Fail? (All are ways of saying "Buzz off, you jerk!")

iii.Unable to write to disk in Drive C.
Data or files may be lost.

iv.If this is a network, make sure the network is working.
If it is a local disk, check disk

Bless my old PC. It didn't bungle up even once during the online applications!

13. Miscellaneous items:

i. Britannia Khao World Cup Jao - World Cup 99 Ticket Book

ii. 50 pencils of 5 different brands. 20 non-functional pens.4 pencil batteries.

iii. Hundreds of regular and stapler pins- out of their boxes naturally.

iv. Wires, soldering material, push-button switches, remnants of a dynamo-powered torch, my
last digital wristwatch, a stapler, a comb and my WALLET.

The past few months

2007-12-31T13:00:00.000+05:30

It's the end of the year and time to look at all the things i didn't write about. That's almost everything! The advent of November signaled the beginning of the 'This decides where I'm gonna end up' period. The first week, I began in earnest with the MS applications (how late can one be!). It reminds me of the movie 'Run Lola Run!' (or 'Lola Rennt!'). It was nerve-wracking - zeroing in on Universities and finding out if they insisted on online recommendation letters, running after professors to get the paper letters signed and the forms filled, sealing transcripts in the microprocessors lab as the clock struck 5 pm; I thought it was going to take forever. Professor Daruwala even said 'Yeh bas karo abhi! Tumko exam mein fail honeka hai kya?'.

The end semester test started on the 13th of November. I had appeared for the last AIMCAT (Time's mock CAT series) clutching a tome called 'Handbook of Biomedical Instrumentation', written by R.S.Khandpur, and people were wondering if this was more important for me than the CAT. The endsems were certainly a more daunting prospect than the CAT. I ended up completing about 80% of the paper on an average, usually getting fed up with the incessant writing, midway through the paper. The result was an abyssmal 6 point something (my GPA graph is a triangular waveform; this is the lowest point ever!)

In the middle of the carnage was the CAT- the holy grail of engineers in their final year. I did well, just as I was sure I would do. If only the endsems were about darkening ovals! More about the CAT in a later post. Fast forward to December first week. I started with the actual online applications for MS; I wrote the Statement of Purpose and reworked it for each university. The work had consumed me - I was oblivious to the time of the day, having dinner at 3 am and staying up as late as 6 am! But I loved it nonetheless; I got to know about all the current research being done at the American Universities. For a moment I was there- on a campus in California, soaking in the historical buildings and looking forward to all that I was about to discover. So, is MS the way to go for me? Time will tell. In the meantime, I got placed again. A bigger pay-packet, an investment banking firm, and my sister's 'wow!'. This presents an alternate path, and it's very attractive for a reason I cannot mention here.

I'm also taking driving lessons. I have not mowed down someone yet, though I still fumble with the gear changes. It's now that I understand that a lack of coordination between hands, legs and the mind can pose a challenge in activities other than dancing. I'm wondering when we'll have auto-transmission in all our cars.

January too promises a lot of action and I am all geared up (no pun intended) for the new year. Hope it will see me blogging regularly.

Musical Greats

2007-08-06T00:29:00.001+05:30

A Sunday afternoon - 1.30 pm. I was back from German class, all set to gulp something down and hit the bed. Everyone was glued to ETV Marathi. I thought to myself 'It's the usual". A moment later I was sporting a wide grin. I had just realized what the next programme was. It was the beginning of a wonderful afternoon.

I was glued to Vasantotsav - a celebration of the music and life of Pt. Vasantrao Deshpande, one of the finest vocalists and thespians ever. Rahul Deshpande, his grandson, rendered some of Vasantrao's most delectable songs - thumris, ghazals, natyageeta et al. Rahul's voice and style of rendition closely resemble those of his grandfather's. What a legacy!

As I listened to the lilting notes I wondered again, as I had before, what it would have been like to listen to someone like Pt. Vasantrao Deshpande live. The presence, the aura and the absolute mastery of their craft that such people possess - it must be overwhelming to be there, being entranced by the magic called music. I have been to a few concerts myself, notably one by Ghulam Ali. It is a spellbinding experience. Incidently, both Ghulam Ali and Pt. Vasantrao hail from the Patiala gharana.

I will always be envious of my parents. They had the great fortune of witnessing greats like Pt.Vasantrao Deshpande, Pt. Kumar Gandharva, Begum Akhtar and many more perform in their prime. And now that I have begun to appreciate classical music, I yearn for the good ol' times. I just wish I were born a generation or two earlier - to live the golden era of music.

Meanwhile, I woke up. The mellifluous tunes had lulled me to sleep. The programme had long ended, but the music had still played in my dreams. I smiled to myself. Rahul had weaved the same magic as his grandfather. The greats have left us a vast treasure-trove of sublime music and are inspiring a whole new generation of artistes like Rahul Deshpande. And so I hope for a new golden age - one that I'll be a part of.

Starters!

2007-08-06T00:11:00.000+05:30

And so I have finally overcome my writer's block. I know 'lack of inspiration' is a poor excuse for my laziness. But I have now decided to record the 'little things' in my life, so that i can look back upon these "Eureka!" moments later in life. Somewhat like Dumbledore storing his thoughts in the pensieve. Maybe these very thoughts would help me solve a dilemma in the distant or the near future.So, here it goes!