AK's Blog

Poets of the Fall

2009-11-17T10:03:00.012+05:30

"Whats gives?" you wonder, as you look at this post.

"Another blogger lost to fame and fortune." you had been thinking.

"Probably living a life of joy and fulfillment", you had mused.

"Men of leisure don't have time for blogging. They're too busy living." you had opined.

And you had been absolutely correct on all counts.

Startling prose finds its roots in the cold and dark of human suffering, not in the sunny warmth of carefree minds of cheerful men (with a spring in their steps and a tune on their lips).

No longer is this man in the investment banking business (pockets lined with silver, in a street car named desire, an object of lust) but a poverty stricken, generally despised grad student in Michigan.

And the words flow effortlessly once again.

(The Michigan Fall is quite pretty though)

Oxymoron

2009-02-20T01:07:00.000+05:30

Free Love.

"Wooly"

2008-12-07T23:46:00.007+05:30

.. said the ol' man from Australia when asked to describe women.

Presumably, he meant "confused and uncertain"... as opposed to "hirsute"

Economics Can Be A Hazardous Occupation..

2008-12-07T22:18:00.003+05:30

..as this economist discovered when his government arrested him for being too pessimistic:

How to Combat a Banking Crisis: First, Round Up the Pessimists

Once Upon a Time

2008-11-12T18:15:00.003+05:30

"And what", she asked me, "scares the knight in shining armor?
Dragons, barbarians and evil sorcerers?"

"Not at all." I told her.

"Dragons are mere animals.. dinosaurs with a hormonal problem.
The shining armor takes the edge off anything the barbarians can dish out.
And the sorcerers.. bah.. they're just a buncha geeks.

The only thing a knight need fear is the Damsel in Distress.

Against her charm and his own foolish gallantry, he has no defense."

It doesn't matter. Really.

2008-10-29T00:53:00.009+05:30

Existential trauma is a rationalist's disease. Every man who chooses to eschew faith in favour of reason, eventually comes up against the "first principles" conundrum. A rationalist, who chooses to do what is "reasonable" instead of what is decreed by some religious/moral code, has a difficult time answering "What is reasonable?". There are no first principles. There is no absolute truth. And morality is arbitrary for the most part.

This is not a discussion of some abstract question of philosophy. Existential trauma makes life pretty confusing.

You can't make choices. You can't define goals. You have to spend your life defining short term objectives and chasing short term pleasure in their achievement. You can go after money, power and women as you are instinctively driven to do. Or you can do coke to stimulate the pleasure centres of your brain directly.

It doesn't really matter when you consider the big picture.

There is no big picture.

Clone, clone of my own

2008-09-21T22:23:00.002+05:30

The Clone Song

By: Isaac Asimov

:D

The Perils of Obedience

2008-09-20T00:23:00.009+05:30

If you can't understand why suicide bombers do what they do, take a look at this:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milgram_experiment (Courtesy: Baba)

It seems that the madness is ingrained in the human psyche and needs to be actively guarded against.

Milgram summarized the experiment in his 1974 article, "The Perils of Obedience", writing:

The legal and philosophic aspects of obedience are of enormous importance, but they say very little about how most people behave in concrete situations. I set up a simple experiment at Yale University to test how much pain an ordinary citizen would inflict on another person simply because he was ordered to by an experimental scientist. Stark authority was pitted against the subjects' [participants'] strongest moral imperatives against hurting others, and, with the subjects' [participants'] ears ringing with the screams of the victims, authority won more often than not. The extreme willingness of adults to go to almost any lengths on the command of an authority constitutes the chief finding of the study and the fact most urgently demanding explanation.

If ordinary people can go to such lengths under the authority of an experimental scientist, imagine what men can be made to do under the authority of God.

Farewell Season

2008-08-31T00:00:00.000+05:30

August has been a month of farewells. Some fond and some indifferent.

Some friends have left for distant lands. Some new friendships have been forged.

Some loyalties have been lost. Others reaffirmed.

The times. They are a-changing.

Take From The Poor And Give To The Rich

2008-07-12T19:47:00.007+05:30

Thats my job description. I now work for a hedge fund. We use money to make money.

Of course, we dont work with small volumes. So if you're just a poor millionaire trying to go multi, I can't help you.

But if you have a real bank balance and want to work your way up the Forbes rich list, give me a call.

I would be glad to assist.

A Good Year

2008-05-30T20:58:00.002+05:30

There was action and adventure. There were exotic locations and interesting women. There were sun kissed beaches and snow clad mountains. There was good food and fine wine. There were Friends, Romans and Countrymen. There was Money. There were choices and decisions. There was Hot Tea and Canadian Beer. There were battles won and battles lost.

The last day of May will mark the end to an year that has been most exciting and eventful. I hope next one is just as great.

Looking For Meaning

2008-03-23T13:42:00.003+05:30

(Click on the image to enlarge)

Lights, Camera And No Bloody Action

2008-03-05T02:01:00.004+05:30

S: What would you do if you suddenly realized your life was like The Truman Show?

R: I’d strangle the idiot who wrote the script.

National Pride

2008-02-29T23:45:00.003+05:30

They start ramming it down your throat from the day you are born.

They drown you in it till you stop gasping for breath.

They sing about it. They dance about it.

They make it an article of faith.

They make you a believer.

A nation is just an abstraction, defined by man made boundaries that are entirely temporary.
By declaring that this is where you 'belong', you are not being noble.
You are being dumb.
You are defining your own limits.

The world belongs to you.

Go stake your claim.

Disconnected

2008-02-29T11:40:00.008+05:30

I've often wondered what an ecstasy enhanced rave would feel like. I've heard descriptions of mass hysteria with a thousand people dancing and screaming to the same beats at the same time. For some participants, its practically a religious experience. In the hallucinatory haze of drug induced euphoria, they feel their minds merge with those around them. A kind of collective consciousness as they sway with their fellow ravers to the same music.

They feel connected.

The head banging hordes at rock festivals and the clamoring crowds at pop performances gather for this same feeling of connection.

For some reason, it works the opposite way for me. Standing in front of the stage with the crowd dancing and shouting all around me, I feel claustrophobic and isolated. The whole thing feels artificial. The monitors so close to my ears that the beats drown out the notes. The guy with the guitar paying more attention to the way his hair moves than the way his fingers do. The insane cheering for vocals that are noisy and out of tune.

The music sounds so much better when its studio recorded and when I don't have to hear it above the din of a mob.

Music has never been able to make me feel connected to the crowd.

Maybe I just don't want to be.

The Ski Story

2008-02-28T14:19:00.016+05:30

When the ol' man from Australia suggested that we go on a skiing trip to Himachal I was naturally surprised and not just a little skeptical.

"Even if your tired legs could take you up the slope, and even if your old heart didn't stop beating because of the cold, could your feeble mind handle all the excitement?" I asked him.

"People here have done everything. They can ski, ice skate, swim, play music, everything. And here I am. 21 going on 90. I have wasted my youth away." He lamented.

"So is this an end-life crisis we have here?" I asked.

"We'll go on a skiing trip over the weekend. Good weather, beautiful mountains, smooth snow, hot food and cold beer. As a matter of fact, I have already begun working on it. We must first decide our destination."

"How do we do that?"

"I am inspecting all the skiing videos I can find to estimate the sex-ratio at the available locations."

And so it began. The start was definitely promising. The ol' man was true to his word. He did his homework thoroughly, and after much debate and discussion, we settled on Narkanda as our destination.

But two days before we were to leave, the ol' man began to have doubts.

"I am not very optimistic about the trip going ahead." He said.

"It doesnt take much optimism to take a bus and go to shimla." I said.

"I don't know.. I feel like I might be wasting money.. I dont think I'll be able to go on a weekend.."

I cursed him a bit of course. But my heart wasn't in it. After all, old men are notoriously fickle. And you can't really blame a nonagenarian for not participating in adventure sports.

But I really wanted to go skiing. The pictures were enticing. And I had never seen snow before. So Sai, Rags and I packed our bags and took the morning bus to Shimla on Saturday.

Narkanda was even better than we had expected. Hotel Hatu gave us an excellent room. The weather was great, the mountains were exquisite. The snow was smooth, the food was hot, the beer was cold. And the skiing was wonderful.

A trip that was truly exceptional.

Poor ol' man.

Painfully Primitive

2007-11-15T19:28:00.002+05:30

"Pain is a primitive and pointless response." declared Baba, entering his room while simultaneously discarding most articles of clothing, as is his custom.

"As rational beings, it is our duty to evolve away from it."

"Headache, Baba?" I asked him.

"Yes, but that is besides the point. The issue here is bigger than my headache. Its even bigger than my head." said Baba, putting it in perspective.

"Then its big indeed" said I. (Legend has it that a paediatrician, when consulted about Baba's tummy-ache in his tender years, immediately put a tape measure around baby Baba's head and (looking slightly scared) declared Baba an anomaly.)

"Pain is as unnecessary as it is unpleasant", continued Baba, "Why can't we get a kind of message from our body telling us its damaged instead of this stupid response that practically disables us? Its OK if you're an animal who needs to be told by his body instead of his brain how to survive, why do we need it?"

"And whats all this mental pain, worry and depression? Its useless. We don't need this kind of anguish to guide us. All our actions should have a rational basis. We should think and we should act. We don't need stress and pain to push us all the time. " said Baba.

Baba, as always, has a point there. Who among us wouldn't want to give up pain? We all want to be able to do what is right and logical and do it without the stress.

But the thing is, we cannot. We wouldn't know what to do if we couldn't feel pain. Our entire life is centred around avoiding pain. The argument that rationality can replace our institictive pleasure-punishment response is hollow because our rationality is itself a derivative of this same instinct.

Stress is an outcome of our fear of future pain. You create multiple layers of abstraction around the instinct all animals feel: fear, and you get stress. It makes you to do things that may help you avoid future pain. Its your driving force. It engenders creativity and initiative. If you take away the need to avoid pain, what would drive you to achieve anything at all?

If you take away the pain, is there anything left?

Poetry

2007-10-27T00:38:00.000+05:30

The only kind of poems I care for are ones that rhyme. Poems that do not rhyme are little more than obfuscated prose, and deliberately introducing unclarity in expression seems to me a pointless exercise.

I also prefer funny poems over serious ones, and short poems over long ones. For these reasons, limericks are my favorite forms of verse. The fact that they are usually ribald only adds to their charm. A limerick cannot succeed at being humorous unless it employs some interesting wordplay or ends in an unexpected fashion, but they are still pretty easy to compose.

Lecherous Limericks

2007-10-25T22:34:00.000+05:30

Inspired by the great Isaac Asimov.

(Rohan, Shashank, Rags, Sai, MG)

Lecherous Limericks

If you've always wanted a personalized lecherous limerick, but never knew where to get one, here's your chance. I'll gladly write you one, dear reader, entirely free of charge (of course, if you like it you can offer me free food).

All you have to do is ask.

The Metro Auntie

2007-09-30T20:39:00.001+05:30

A new urban 'issue' that has added to the woes of the average Delhite is the fast-spreading (in every sense of the word) 'Metro Auntie'.

The Metro Auntie (MA) is a loud, obnoxious, heavily made up creature of enormous proportions. She walks into a metro carriage and immediately occupies the seat nearest to the door either ignoring or attacking the protesting previous occupant. Whether there is another vacant seat available or the current occupant is busy studying for an important test is, of course, without relevance. The Metro Auntie offends without mercy and without prejudice. She is a true believer in the Darwinian philosophy "survival of the fattest".

It should be clarified that the Metro Auntie has nothing to do with the 'Aunt'. The latter is the wife of one's uncle. The former is a state of the mind. As socio-cultural phenomenons go, the Metro Auntie is fairly recent. She might have existed even before the Metro came to the metropolis, but her true malevolence has only recently manifested itself. In any case, she is a byproduct of "civil" society. In the stone-age, for example, the Metro Auntie would have found it very difficult to survive, as human laws of social conduct are not usually observed by the wild life of the jungle. The Metro Auntie, seeking to displace a lion from its resting place on a nice warm rock, would probably have become junk food for the cubs.

The Metro Auntie may be generally slow and inflexible in her movements, but she is capable of remarkable speed and dexterity in certain situations. This might be due to vast reserves of Glycogen in her bloodstream (not unlike Brontosaurs, who, despite their bulk, could react very quickly when attacked by predators). I will relate a horrifying personal experience to illustrate:

"I was waiting for the Metro at Tilak Nagar during the rush hour. When it came, the carriage was packed with people. As the door opened, I saw standing in front of me a girl of remarkable prettiness. I smiled and, wonder of wonders, she smiled back. Near the door, there was just enough space for one thin man to stand. This tale could have had an interesting ending if, at that very moment, I had not been shoved out of the way by a huge MA who appeared out of nowhere, sprinting at an incredible speed. She squeezed into the carriage and left me standing on the platform as the Metro went away."

The Metro Auntie, due to her close resemblance to the bovine, may appear benign and harmless. Do not be fooled. She is vicious and quick. She also has much more momentum than you will ever have. Get out of the way. Let her have what she wants. It is better to get there standing than not get there at all.

Pyramid Schemes

2007-09-15T23:04:00.000+05:30

Human gullibility has ceased to amaze me. When it is the general public that gets itself duped and cheated, I dismiss the affair indifferently (but of course the silly asses gave their money to some con artist, what do you expect them to do? Think?). When it is smart, educated people who get had, I am sometimes amused and sometimes disheartened. After all, smart educated people also think only occasionally.

The case in point here is Ebiz, a very obvious and very typical Pyramid Scheme. Its been all the rage in NSIT, DCE and IIT Delhi the last few months, and you wouldn't have expected the techies to screw their math this bad.

This is the way it works: the organization has 'members'. To become a member, you have to pay around 8K to the organization. All members get a monetary incentive to make more members. Every new member, after paying his 'membership fee', gets an 'opportunity' to make more members (plus a free CD which is the organization's 'product').

Now it is immediately obvious that this system is unsustainable. It bottoms out after a certain number of 'members' have been made and the probability of making more members becomes very small. It is also obvious that in the absence of any real product, the only thing being traded is 'membership', and we all know what that is worth.

I must say however, that Ebiz has definitely proven an effective source of entertainment for non-members. Ebiz has regular 'meetings' (paid entry for guests) where the virtues of the system are exholled and organizational rituals are established. This is again a typical characteristic of Pyramid Schemes. All the members are required to suffix a 'ji' to their 'seniors' in Ebiz and afford them grave respect. Imagine my perplexity when dear ol' Bhuppi Singh became Bhupinder-ji overnight.

Though the craze seems to have abated now, there was a time when the entire univ was haunted by 'Ebizers' and every non-member was trying to escape dis-memberment. For most of the conned-junta, disillusionment has now arrived.

It has been a good year for the guy at the top of the pyramid though. And frankly, the way this guy has managed to make half the engineers in Delhi forget their numbers... I think he deserves his millions.

Cinque Terre - Heaven On Earth

2007-08-25T20:58:00.000+05:30

Monterosso

Vernazza

Manarola

Cinque-Terre. Five Lands. Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, Riomaggiore.

I have witnessed beauty that is truly divine.

I have touched paradise.

Two nights in Paris

2007-08-21T22:09:00.000+05:30

No European trip can be called complete without a tour of Paris. The French, like death and taxes, are inevitable. Though, to be sure, they are less unpleasant.

I planned my trip to Paris with another Indian intern Prateek(an IITian) working in Milan. We met up with another bunch of people (again from various IITs) at the Bergamo airport on a Friday night to catch a flight to Paris on Saturday morning. The night had to be spent at the airport as there was no public transport available to get to the airport early in the morning.

We had planned our trip using Google Earth and an itinerary penned out by one of Prateek's seniors. We started with Sacre Coeur where we got an excellent view of the city. The place was full of French artists all insistent on drawing your portrait (for 20 Euros 'only'). Then, we spent 3 hours looking for our hotel that wasn't where GE had shown it to be. We got tired of looking and had lunch before heading off to Jardin des Tuileries. We also visited French Senate, the Palaces large and small and Napoleon's Tomb.

My favorite part of paris was definitely the Arc de La Defense. Beautiful fountains surrounded by huge, beautiful buildings in crazy shapes. Spent a couple of hours there and then went off to the Eiffel Tower.

Now Europe, during the summer, is fairly infested with IITians. Throw a stone in any direction and you will, more often than not, bonk an IITian on the head. I became aware of this almost as soon as I stepped into Europe, but the extent of the blight became clear to me only in Paris. At the Eiffel, the queue for groups was shorter, so we started looking around to collect enough people to make a group of 20. Within 13 seconds, to my amazement, we had found 13 IITians. Going up the tower was boring, tiring and slow, though the view from the top was amazing.

Prateek and I came down just in time to see the glittering lights thing they do for 10 minutes each night. And we got really lucky and caught the last bus at 1:30 AM and found our hotel without too much trouble.

The next day began with a tour of the Luvre museum. The French have, very cunningly, taken all the best stuff out of Italy, Egypt and China and dumped it into this museum. They now charge the Italians, Egyptians and the Chinese (plus the rest of the world) 8 Euros a pop to see the stuff. So if you find that the precious emerald statue of your favorite God is missing, or that your great great grandfather's best sword has been pinched, you can be sure that it's hidden somewhere in the Luvre behind a glass case.

After Luvre and a Parisian ham sandwich (with omelet), we visited the Luxemburg Palace, the Pantheon and the Saint Sulpice Church. At the church, I witnessed my first proper choir performance. It was wonderful. I had never known that chapel music could be this good.

The high point of the trip was the second night in Paris. We had expected to spend it sleeping at the airport so as to be able to catch the next morning flight. We missed the last bus. So we shivered for an hour or so on a bench at the bus station. Then we shivered for another hour trying to locate a place shielded from the cold wind where we could spend the night. We finally settled down for 4 hours on a flight of stairs leading down from the pavement to the metro. We caught the first bus in the morning thanking our stars that we had not frozen over but slightly disappointed that no thug or cop had found us interesting enough to investigate.

Still, I am a satisfied man. Many can claim to have walked the streets of Paris. How many can claim to have bedded them?

Belly Dancers and the Gold Economy

2007-08-17T11:10:00.000+05:30

"Baba", I noted grimly, "Something here is not right. Do you observe, as I do, the complete absence of any belly dancers whatsoever in our vicinity?"

Baba, our host for the evening, looked around his room where Sai, Rags and I had gathered to celebrate his recent exploits, and replied that he did.

"Baba", I averred, "It is a sad day when a man, expecting to discover, in a drunken haze, dancers of the belly variety crawling out of the woodworks, finds himself sober and without even a hint of a belly in his immediate future."

Baba muttered some silly excuses and handed me a thandai.

It was during dinner that the subject of the gold economy was broached.

"Warren Buffet", said Baba, "had a point when he said that gold is useless and we are crazy. It gets dug out of the ground in Africa, or someplace. Then we melt it down, dig another hole, bury it again and pay people to stand around guarding it. It has no utility. Anyone watching from Mars would be scratching their head."

Now, being admirers of logic and believers in the scientific temperament, the rest of us were naturally offended by this state of things. "This is an outrage." Rags declared.

"I have a vision.", I said,"We shall be remembered as the men who did away with with this foolish system and established an alternate economy, based on something much more substantial and valuable than a shiny metal."

"In other words, Belly dancers." said Sai.

We all fell silent as we contemplated the possibilities. We then enthusiastically congratulated Sai on his brilliant breakthrough.

Rags, his keen mind racing ahead to hash out the details, said "It cant be a simple barter economy. What if we need to trade goods that are less than one belly dancer in value?"

"That is easy to remedy." I said. "We can issue promissory notes based on the number of belly dancers we employ."

"This will revolutionize world finance and trading" said Baba.

"It will give wealth creation a new meaning" said I.

"Consider the effect on general health and fitness" said Rags.

"Its about empowering the common man" said Sai.

"and the woman." added Rags.

"I propose a toast", I said, "to Baba and Belly dancers"

"and a more sensible future" added Sai.

And we downed our drinks in high spirits.

Como

2007-07-18T02:54:00.000+05:30

Como is another lakeside town that lies on the Italian-Swiss border. Its just two hours by train from Milan. You can make out the mountains in the distance. The lake is littered with boats, yachts and the occasional sea-plane.

To the tourist, Como offers a (highy recommended) boat ride along Lago di Como and a nice mountain hike to Volta's tower from where you get an interesting view of the lake and the town. Como has some beautiful villas by the lakeside. Half of these are owned by filthy rich Hollywood people. The remaining belong to Italians with even more dough.

The inexperienced observer might consider the behavior of the natives curious and strange. Each morning, the local population of rich, fat old men of various shapes and sizes put on full biking gear and drive their Ducati's two hundred meters from their villas to the lake-front. They are accompanied, always, by smiling pretty young women. Life must be agreeable and the fatties very amusing, one infers, from the state of perpetual exhilaration that these women find themselves in.

Both the men and the women then proceed to remove most articles of clothing and walk onto their yachts which they then sail around the lake for a couple of hours. The days work is then considered done and over with and they again put on their biker's gear to drive back to their villas.

Life in Como is, as you have correctly deduced, quite good.

Brescia, Salo, Desenzano/ Squid, Lobster, Steak

2007-07-11T04:34:00.000+05:30

Traveling with my father makes good sense. Apart from the obvious financial advantage (I don't have to pay for anything), and the pleasure of his company, I also get to make some interesting culinary 'discoveries'.

Squid, Lobster and Steak have been discovered and appreciated. The squid exceeded my expectations and the Lobster fell below them. The steak (medium) was more or less what I expected it to be. I also tasted 'good' white wine and 'poor' white wine and could clearly make out the difference, though I can't say I appreciated either very much.

Brescia is an italian city to the east of Milan. Looks like a cleaner version of Milan with hills in the backdrop. Salo and Desenzano are both townships by the lakeside that look exactly like what I imagined European towns looked like, with small, pretty shops lining cobbled streets. The Large number of boats and yachts that line the docks and the Mercedes, Ferrari's and Lamborghini's that cover the roads were not part of my mental picture, but apparently the lakeside towns are full of filthy rich people.

On the whole, a very enjoyable trip.

Venezia

2007-07-06T00:51:00.001+05:30

Perhaps I expected too much from the City of Water/City of Light.

Maybe it was because the city seemed to be sinking under the weight of the crowd of tourists.

It might have been the heat and the incredibly expensive loo's.

But I think the reason I couldn't appreciate Venezia was because the City of Love looks best when you have the company of a lovely lady.

(Though, to be sure, most places look good if you are in the company of ladies of even moderate loveliness)

And Then He said, "Let There Be Light"

2007-06-16T20:04:00.000+05:30

And There was Milan.

What’s great about Milan?

The People. I’ve been here for two weeks now and I haven’t met one person, Italian or otherwise, who hasn’t been nice and friendly. I’ve met people from Brazil, Iran, Chile, China, Venezuela, Turkey, Rwanda and Bangladesh and liked them all without exception. (Yes. About 40% of the young women are hot.)

The Light. Darkness doesn’t seem to touch Milan. The sun sets after 9PM and the sky remains pink till morning comes again at 6AM.

Gellato. Exceptional Ice-cream in a variety of flavors at 2 euros for three scoops. Nice.

Hot Showers. The water never stops flowing in Milan. Every street has a water fountain from which drinkable water keeps flowing. My room has a shower that supplies centrally heated hot water. The temperature is adjustable. The pressure is consistent. Heavenly.

The Ubiquitous Indian. In my two weeks in Milan, I’ve met 7 Indians and 6 Bangladeshis.

So you think you are going to explore new territories and conquer new lands? Reach beyond the horizon and create new frontiers? Say hi to the Patels when you get there. And take along these laddus for Singhal Auntie.

We are omnipresent and omniscient. We are of all colors and speak all languages. And every Indian or Bangladeshi I met here is studying at the IT dept. So I guess we are Gods who like to code.

Ciao amici

The Man in Milan

2007-06-12T02:21:00.001+05:30

Cathedral Duomo in Milan

If you find yourself wondering where The Man has gone off to, you will find yourself surprised to discover that The Man is, at the moment, in Milan.

If you now find yourself wondering what curious circumstance led to The Man removing himself from his usual habitat to grace Milan with his presence, you will discover that The Man received a fellowship to work on a summer project in Politecnico di Milano.

Finally, if you find yourself wondering why The Man insists on referring to himself in the third person, well that, my friend, is one of life’s many mysteries.

By the Pricking of My Thumbs

2007-05-24T19:05:00.000+05:30

Quite unexpectedly and quite incredibly, I have been, for the last one month, ‘busy’. Yes, the realization shocked me as much as it shocks you. Though I have not had the chance to blog as a consequence of the busy-ness, some worthwhile things have been accomplished during this period. More on that later.

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

It was during a lazy conversation one lazy winter afternoon that we decided to define ‘evil’. “Why”, my friend asked me, “would you want to discuss something so morbid on such a nice day?”

“Because,” I told him, “of the unfortunate absence of passive entertainment and interesting company."

"Google has announced its intention of ‘not being evil’ and this has led me to wonder what, on a personal rather than corporate level, evil means.” By this time, my friend had dozed off and I proceeded to expatiate.

The line between iniquity and good old selfishness is thin. This line depends on what morality means to you. But what is unquestionably evil, is finding your joy in someone else’s sorrow. Sadism is evil. Worse, sadism isn’t really curable. It can only be restrained and perhaps morphed. A child who bullies and physically intimidates other children might not be able to do so when he grows up for fear of getting shot or imprisoned. But his innate desire to inflict pain does not go away and he is always a danger to other people. He beats up his wife and his kids. He mentally tortures his employees.

Another thing I have observed, in my limited experience, is that sadism seems to be inborn rather than learned. Does that make evil a genetic disorder?

Exams

2007-03-23T16:00:00.000+05:30

Exams are good.

"Sacriledge!" you cry. "What good, God-fearing man spreads such devilry? You shall burn at the stake!"

"Patience" I say, "all in good time."

Exams overclock my processor. I begin to see things in new light. The colors become vivid, the sounds more intense. I find myself able to grasp strange concepts one after the other in rapid succession. Exams build character. Exams bring purpose. Exams make the distractions seem so much more alluring and satisfying. I even blog more often during exams.

"And for that you have sold your soul?” you ask. “May you lead a life of loveless insignificance,” you say “in a stygian hole of minute proportions.”

My dear fellow. What do you think I’m doing right now?

Slangman Returns

2007-03-10T10:52:00.000+05:30

(By popular demand. We would like to thank the R's, the D's and the S's for their contributions.)

'Yuppa' : A reply in the affirmative.

'Parampoojya Gooba' : Oye Babbaa v2.0

'Open up Dolly Baybeh' : Rally cry for Block A and most of IC third year.

'Yo Dooday' : Yes Dude.

‘Bhaiyya’ : Honorary suffix for all D Block inmates.

Usage: Dantu Bhaiyya, Pappi Bhaiyya, Monkey Bhaiyya.

Notable Exceptions: Sandy Bhaiyya, Akki Bhaiyya

Other honorary suffixes: Sir, Sai

Usage: Raggie Sir, Magoo Sir, ‘Sai, tu toh bhagwaan hai’

‘D’ : Acronym for D-Block culture. Also used as short for ‘Dantu’.

The Fat Duck

2007-03-09T02:16:00.001+05:30

I have been a fan of Heston Blumenthal from the day I saw “Kitchen Chemistry” one Monday afternoon on the discovery channel.

Heston is a different kind of chef. He combines a passion for food with a scientific bent of mind. He explores the chemistry of taste. In the process, he invents new recipes and reinvents old ones.

I have seen him illustrate the method for cooking the perfect French fry. I have been instructed in the art of tempering chocolate so that it acquires the perfect texture. And I have learnt how smell is as important as taste in determining flavor.

Heston Blumenthal also runs a restaurant called “The Fat Duck” somewhere in the UK. The restaurant has won three Michelin stars and serves some strange sounding but (reportedly) great tasting dishes.

I have also looked through his recipes posted on the internet. Most of them require a preparation time of a few hours. I am a total newbie when it comes to cooking, so maybe I’ll try to get someone with more experience to try and make the dishes.

The Land of Opportunity

2007-02-17T21:29:00.001+05:30

Be amazed, astonished and enlightened. And don't forget to suggest a suitable caption for the following picture our old friend:

Sugessions:

1. The Land of Opportunity
2. Ripleys Believe It Or Not
3. He Came, He saw, He Conquered
4. Kabab Mein Haddi
5. The Axe Effect

Midnight Melodies

2007-02-09T14:58:00.000+05:30

Lying in a bean bag, enveloped in music and darkness. What could be sweeter?

Recent discoveries:

Oasis: Wonderwall, Champagne Supernova
Simon and Garfunkel: Scarborough Fair, Sounds of Silence

The Ortho-dauntic Experience

2007-01-27T21:45:00.000+05:30

Maulana Azad Dental hospital is a large red building that houses the manpower and equipment necessary for the preservation of Delhi’s dental health and the eradication of the evils of tooth decay and gum disease. The building is new, the architecture neoteric. It is equipped with sophisticated machinery and experienced surgeons.

As can be expected, behind this veneer of modernity (and the illusion of harmlessness), like every other institution remotely related to the noble profession of Dentistry, lie corridors, OPD’s and OT’s that are witnesses to the most horrifying human suffering. For the poor patients doomed to pass through its portals, the place projects a medieval and terrifying aura. By some ironic twist of fate, the place seems to be inhabited primarily by very human seeming (and exceedingly attractive) female dentists.

I have visited the Maulana Azad Dental hospital five times in the past two months, thrice for consultation and twice for some major and complicated dental surgery. I was pleasantly surprised the first time by the apparent abundance of pretty doctors and doctors to be. The days of surgery were decidedly less agreeable. I went in praying to God for a quick and painless operation each time, having temporarily suspended my agnostic beliefs. Each time my jaw was subjected to one and a half hours of impact loading, drilling and sawing operations. The tools used were chisels, hammers, buzz saws and knives of various configurations. Each time I came out thanking my stars that it was finally over, knowing that the next 3 days will be painful and decidedly swollen. Both the doctors who treated me were highly experienced, extremely competent and very nice and sweet as well.

Dentists do great, noble work. The path to hell is clearly paved with good intentions.

Moodal Analysis

2007-01-13T00:08:00.000+05:30

Irritability and general moodiness are characteristics of an unoccupied mind.

Only continuous preoccupation with non-trivial issues can prevent the onset of loneliness and misery. That’s sad. I used to like lazing around.

Rummy

2007-01-04T18:59:00.000+05:30

Rags and I decided to get drunk.

The entire D-block had done it already. We were feeling kind of left out.

Now we couldn’t do it together. It’s more fun to get drunk in sober company. Plus, if we did it separately, we’d have two interesting tales to tell instead of just one. That made sense.

And so we parted ways.

With the single minded determination of a man on a mission, I soon acquired half a bottle of Old Monk Rum, half a bottle of Honey Bee Brandy and half a bottle of Chivas Regal Scotch Whisky. The rum, with its dark, murky depths, looked the most intriguing and the whisky, at 200 bucks a glass, was the most enticing.

I decided to start with the rum. I had been told by kind, well meaning souls that the rum should be had with coke, the brandy in small sips and the whisky with soda and ice. Coke? Coke is for sissies. I take my drinks neat. So I poured out a quarter glass of rum and dunked it down my throat.

At first the sensation was just unpleasant. The rum tasted like bad medicine with a wicked aftertaste. It slowly got worse. My mouth felt hot. So did my throat. The bitter taste wouldn’t go away. So I drank up half a bottle of coke. Better late than never I guess.

Daunted but not defeated, I picked up the brandy. Brandy is not as bad as rum, I was told. I again ignored well meant advice and dunked down a quarter glass. My throat was on fire once more. Water, in large quantities, was employed.

By this time, my adventurous spirit was a bit dampened. So I added a large number of ice chunks to my quarter glass of whisky. I finished the remaining coke at the end of this ordeal.

For some reason, I don’t think I’ll ever have to join alcoholics anonymous.

I met Rags online later that day. As sometimes happens under such circumstances, Rags, his inner bard aroused, burst forth with spontaneous poetry:

Twas one, but wasn't rum,
Heard 'twas 40 per cent minimum,
But we din' really get bummed.

With orange juice 'twas quite slick,
But we did get some Hics
Thank thee O Slavics

I am easily inspired:

if u din' get rum
and cudn' get bummed
u missed all the fun

the juice doesn' click
screw the slavics
but at the least u did
manage to get those hics...

cheers ma mateys!

Calvin and Hobbes

2006-12-25T19:07:00.000+05:30

Calvin says it all.

Calvin and Hobbes has always been my favorite comic strip. Calvin is both funny and profound. In fact, Calvin is close to being my ideal. Most of my future posts and quite a few of my old ones shall be illustrated with Calvin and Hobbes strips.

You Ate What?

2006-12-14T19:29:00.000+05:30

One man’s exotic is another man’s prosaic. Seafood for instance. Having lived most of my life very far away from the sea, I find prawns, lobsters, oysters etc. intriguing and exotic.

Though my culinary experience is quite limited, I have had the opportunity to get acquainted with some interesting edibles.

Shark: Eat them before they eat you. That would probably be the only reason I would eat shark again. I had shark curry in Diu. Maybe it wasn’t cooked right. Or maybe men are not meant to eat sharks.

Tiger prawns: Again, my encounter with fried tiger prawns did not go as well as I had hoped. Perhaps the flavor takes some getting used to. I will try them again sometime.

Mutton enchilada: It’s a Mexican preparation that I really liked the only time I had it. Mexicans dishes are just as spicy as Indian dishes and even have a similar sort of flavor sometimes.

Smoked Pomfret: The fish had a definite ‘smoky’ flavor. Not at all unpleasant.

Roast Duck: I had roast duck at a Chinese restaurant called ‘Bamboo Shoots’. Almost all the dishes they served us tasted similar. All I can say is that the duck was chewier than the chicken and had more flavor than the fish.

The things I wish to try:

Peking Duck: I have heard a lot about this Chinese preparation. The skin and the meat are served separately, and the skin is supposed to be crisp and very tasty.

Venison: It is supposed to have a lot more flavor than any of the other red meats.

Steak: The barbequed steak is something I have heard and read described countless times. I haven’t had a chance to try it out as yet. But I’m definitely looking forward to it.

Sushi: Raw fish wrapped in boiled rice? I love challenges.

Snake: It’s supposed to taste like chicken. I would like to verify that.

Squid: I once saw a bunch of people gulp down a couple of live squids on discovery channel. I may not be that adventurous, but I want to know: is it as rubbery as it looks?

Just Deserts

2006-12-09T00:05:00.001+05:30

I’ll start at the end. This is my favorite part of the meal.

Blue Berry cheese cake: I had this once at a mexican food place called 'Rodeo' in CP. Its a cheese cake with blue berries on top. Blue berries are tiny berries that look somewhat like phalsas but taste slightly different. It was good.

Chocolate Mud Pie: The best thing that has happened to chocolate yet.

Pineapple Upside Down Cake: The cake is made with a layer of pineapples, cherries and cream at its bottom and is served up side down.

Black Forrest Cake: A well made Black Forrest Cake is soft, creamy and is lightly flavored with the dark chocolate that is sprinkled on top.

Walnut pudding: Its light, fluffy and just the right amount of crunchy.

Ras-malayi: This my all time favourite desert.

Of course, this is only a very small subset of the sweet things that make life worth living. I'll add more to the list soon.

Rude Food

2006-12-01T22:46:00.000+05:30

I've been eating for about 20 years. I like food.

Food can be divided into three categories. Good food, Bad food and Mess food. Good food is what you live to eat. Bad food is what you eat to live. And mess food is penance for all your sins in life.

Since a lot can be written about this subject, I’ll divide it into a series of articles (All labeled ‘Food’) that will be dished out at periodic intervals.

(Ref: 'Rude Food' is the title of a series of some very interesting articles about food by Vir Sanghvi that appear in "Brunch", a supplement that comes with HT every saturday)

Creative Profiling

2006-11-25T18:42:00.000+05:30

The syllabus for the math paper had been a killer. Bessel functions, series solutions of differential equations, transformations of complex functions, advanced vector algebra and lots of other such stuff had been messing up my mind.

I mixed it all up on my orkut profile. This is what I got:

Hi! I'm Ak(x).

I am the series solution of the partial differential equation formed on differentiating the complex function obtained by applying a series of inverted bilinear transformations on simple souls.

I was generated when the real parameter Akshat Kaul was passed to function passmathsmajor(). The poor fellow didnt even know he existed on the argand plane.

Since I am damped oscillatory in nature, I will continue to exist till the time majors are damped out and forgotten.

If you too are a series function, and wish to harmonize, give me a scrap. We might constructively interfere into sustained oscillations.

For some reason, I got told about 10 times in the next few days that my profile would definitely scare the ‘chicks’ away. Who cares? Which sane person would think that I’m trying to attract ‘chicks’ with that profile?

But something did strike me as curious. Though almost all my male friends had something to say about the new profile, I didn’t get a single comment from a single girl in my friends list.

So maybe the guys were right after all. Maybe girls don’t like math very much :) .

Violin Virtues

2006-11-23T20:40:00.000+05:30

The first time I realized how powerful a violin can be was two years ago at an instrumental music competition during a cult fest in the college.

After hearing a lot of uninspired (and often poorly rendered) keyboard, acoustic guitar and electric guitar compositions, I was bored and ready to leave.

That was when a fellow walked in with a violin. He was a friend of mine. I had not known he played the violin. I sat down again just out of curiosity.

What followed was, for me, a revelation. The music was stunning. It filled the hall. It was fluent. It was melodious. It was intense.

It touched my soul.

He won of course. And he got a standing ovation. I have heard him play both Indian and western classical pieces. It always leaves me wanting more.

Some good violin music I’ve heard since then:

The Corrs: “Toss the feathers”, “Haste to the wedding”, “Joy of life”

Yanni: “Within Attraction”

Music from the movie “Morning Raga”: “Thaye Yashoda”, “Remembering my violin”

I am always on the lookout for good violin and other instrumental music. Suggestions are welcome.

The Dream

2006-11-19T17:58:00.000+05:30

A seaside villa. White sand beaches (Diu, Caymans, Hawaii?). A rooftop swimming pool overlooking the ocean. A large library bathed in sunlight pouring in through French windows that open to a beautiful garden.

A clear conscience. The company of friends and people I love. A Murciélago parked in the garage.

And 40 years of health and leisure to enjoy it all.

Slangman continues

2006-11-02T09:19:00.000+05:30

I wonder how these got left out the first time...

"Abe piddi": An expression of contempt for the miniscule, microscopic, minute dregs of humanity.

"Oops!": If you hear this, you are about to get hurt.

"Whose the Daddies now?": Raggie strikes back.

"I inspire the youth of today.": Not slang. But definitely inspirational.

"Muuhaahaahaa. Kya Tuchcha.": This one speaks for itself.

Slangman

2006-11-01T11:18:00.001+05:30

It started out with us coming up with slang phrases to mock those who actually used them. We ended up with quite a few that we now use quite frequently ourselves. The messers thus became the messees. Here are some gems from the local pop cult:

“Dudes, where’s my car-keys?” : plagiarized and pluralized.

“Oye Babba” :a mode of addressing the nude, philosophical creature that is a part of our lives.

“Hows the man, Ram?”: with reference to ‘Sairam’, note that ‘Ram’ has to rhyme with ‘man’

“Whose him? He’s the Kakrowwwwla kingpin”: Quoted by ‘Rags’, one inspired wednesday afternoon.

“Mujhe jaana hai”: The oft-quoted indicator that a trip to the restroom is in order.

“Chal yaar chal, workshop mein maraate hain”: The prelude to another night of joyful drilling, sawing, filing and grinding at the NSIT central workshop just before another techfest.

More of these insightful expressions coming soon.

The Early Bird catches the Worm

2006-11-01T01:25:00.000+05:30

I hate early mornings. For a man with surprisingly little interest in worm-ly matters, I have had to suffer through an inordinately large amount of morning sunshine. It is a time when I am hopelessly dazed both physically and mentally and am still subjected to a painful period of intense activity because, as usual, I have gotten up too late. Worse, just before entering this depressing world of reality, I have usually been having some very interesting dreams.

For these reasons, mornings find me unpleasant, irritable and somewhat inclined towards violence. Consider the following conversation:

8:00 AM

Kind, well meaning friend: “Rise and shine dude.”

Me: ”Hmmmm?? Hmmmmm……zzzz”

8:30 AM

Kind, well meaning friend: ”It’s 8:30 bud, get up.”

Me: “Give me another minute…zzzz”

9:00 AM

Kind, well meaning friend: ”If you don’t get up now, you wont get there in time.”

Me: “@#$%$!!...zzzz”

9:20 AM

Kind, well meaning friend: ”Bye man. I’m off.”

Me: “@#$$... why the hell didn’t you wake me up earlier??” (Followed by the flurry of activity mentioned above)

Needless to say, I don’t remember any part of this conversation. It’s reported speech. It’s hard to believe I still have kind, well meaning friends.

What do people like about mornings anyway? I like the night. It’s the time when I feel the most productive, having done nothing worthwhile throughout the day. Plus, the night offers a large number of stimulating pleasures. Is there anything quite like driving a bike at over a 100kmph on an empty road on a cool night? Or strolling around the campus at 2:00 AM thinking profound thoughts in the company of the (occasionally drunk) modern intellectuals?

Kenny G

2006-10-30T13:44:00.000+05:30

If you don't listen to Kenny G, you obviously hate yourself.

Attraction

2006-10-25T14:03:00.000+05:30

Everyone likes a pretty face. Pretty bodies are also universally appreciated. But these are not the only attractive qualities. And as far as I am concerned, they are not enough.

The people I feel attracted to have a certain sophistication, charm and wit that come of being well read, well traveled or through the possession of a very creative mind. They are also completely devoid of malice. This attraction increases when it is mutual.

So I’m attracted to beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated women. Oh well. Who isn’t?

Poor Kids

2006-10-19T00:42:00.000+05:30

It was Monday morning. My father was dropping me off at the metro. I was having breakfast in the car. A tiny little girl wearing some old rags tapped on the window. At first I ignored her. I didn’t have any change and anyway, this happens too many times on Delhi streets to bother me anymore. Then the kid started doing handstands and cartwheels on the pavement. I fished out some change from the glove compartment and handed it to her. She gave me a big smile and shyly asked if I could give her some water to drink.

That’s when it hit me. The poor child depended on strangers like me to get water to drink. No one deserves to live like this. It’s a cruel life and a cruel world. I didn’t have any drinkable water so I handed her the rest of my breakfast. But that didn’t solve her problem. And this is a problem that needs desperately to be solved.

The only thing I can think of that can help kids like her is to take part in the Neighborhood Project. It’s a child education program started by students of my college for children from the neighboring slums.

I wish there was a faster way of ending the misery that kids like her suffer. Unfortunately, I don’t know it right now. But I’ll give it a lot of thought.

Distraction, the best medicine

2006-10-11T03:07:00.000+05:30

I love reading. More specifically, I love reading fiction, though i'll read anything at all if i cant find fiction.

Like everyone else, I often feel the need to escape reality. Work, Food, Love: any of these can cause pain when not had in moderation. Reading is the most convinient and effective way I know of escape. Watching movies, playing games and working my ass off are other similar distractions. But reading is the easiest. And it works every time.

Distractions help me in dealing with not just unpleasant emotions and thoughts but also from physical pain. These two are often related and attack together. But give me a good book and all is forgotten and nothing in the world can bother me anymore.

Also, distraction has often helped me avoid difficult situations. Irritating children and adults alike have been presented with suitable distractions so that i may be left alone.

To summarise, most problems I face in this world may be at least temporarily resolved by running away from them. And the ones that are impossible to solve can definitely be treated with a good dose of distraction and denial.

The Dangers of Faith and the Irrelevance of Religion

2006-09-09T20:56:00.000+05:30

Faith is one of the most frustrating things I have come accross. By its very definition, faith is impossible to change. It is mostly immune to arguments, to logic, to rationality and to most types of persuations. It implies a logic defying adherance to an idea that may or may not have any roots in reality.

Faith is most commonly associated with religion. Seemingly sane people believe in and practice absurd rituals in accordance with what they think their religion dictates.

At best, these rituals are a waste of time. At worst they do great harm to both the people practicing them and to the society at large.

Now, coming to religion. Religion is a set of beliefs and practices that defines the relationship between a man and his God. More specifically, religion tries to define ways and means that ordinary humans can use to influence their 'destiny' by influencing the Gods governing it. I consider such beliefs foolish and such practices even more foolish. There is insufficient information about the existence of a God to make any inferences about how to go about influencing His will in our lives.

The concept of God has always been a way of explaining things that could not otherwise be explained. Thus, we had rain gods, thunder gods, sun gods and various other such deities who took care of all the other things that affected human life. We have explanations for most of these phenomena now. But a large number still remain unexplained. However, there are definite indications that we shall get those elusive explanations without needing to invoke the God concept as has already been done for so many things.

Therefore, it is silly to employ ways of invoking influence over the Gods when there is no definite indication that they even exist. Religion thus becomes irrelevant.

The Blog

2006-09-02T17:36:00.000+05:30

This Blog is meant to be an outlet for my philosophical musings. I find it uncomfortable to let those things fester inside me with nowhere to go. They shall mostly be short, clear and highly opinionated.