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Algebraic Bowel Syndrome

2011-11-26T17:16:00.001+05:30

What struck as a mental disorder exactly an year ago has now become a way of life. The 'algebraic bowel syndrome', which has a probability of affecting 1 in every 7 billion, is an obsessive compulsive disorder that strikes every morning, and only once, when the pants are down and the bottom is staring down the you-know-what.

What are the symptoms of the disorder? There is only one, actually: the gate just won't open until a particular algebraic equation is solved. Sort of a daily math puzzle. The details:

1/ Consider each day as dd/mm/yy
2/ Now derive a f(dd,mm)=yy such that
a/ Each of dd and mm should be used for equal number of times in the equation
b/ The allowed operators are- +,-,*,/,!
3/ The aim is to solve this using dd and mm the least number of times

Example? Easy one this - 13/09/11
(13+13+9+9)/(13-9)=44/4=11

Aah. Relief.

With mm=yy, November '11 has been quite challenging and frustrating.

Luck

2009-12-06T23:37:00.003+05:30

V: Do you believe in luck?
S: You want to know or you know the answer and just want to confirm?
V: I want to know
S: I do. It is my escape route.
V: Hehe. So if some one succeeds, you will call him lucky eh?
S: No. I will consider him talented. But if I fail, I will consider myself unlucky.
V: :-)
S: :-D

Home alone

2009-11-21T21:23:00.002+05:30

I will write pretending like I havent been away for a long time.

I have nothing to write actually. Apart from the fact that a flight across few seas and a couple of oceans, to the erstwhile land of dreams, happened a month ago, life has pretty much been the same.

I write today because today is different. I am home alone after a long time. Must admit, life 'home alone' is disturbing. Partly because it brings back some deeply buried memories and largely because I have simply lost touch. Things inside feel 'uncertain'.

I miss my 'mummy' mom..
I miss my 'wifey' mom..

Dilbertesque again

2009-07-07T14:56:00.002+05:30

Wifey: I have to work till midnight tonight. Come and pick me up.
Hubby: At what rate do they pay for overtime?
Wifey: I don't get paid for overtime.
Hubby: Well, it must be some important work then.
Wifey: Not really. My boss wants me to change some "PowerPoint" slides for a meeting.
Hubby: Well, atleast you will be prepared for your meeting.
Wifey: It was cancelled. But that's okay because the project isn't funded anyway.
Hubby: So ... you want to stay till midnight to work for free on a presentation for a meeting that won't happen for a project that doesn't exist.
Wifey: Yes. At what time will you come?
Hubby: Ok. I will be there.

Sunfeast 10K and 5 years @ TI

2009-06-01T13:23:00.003+05:30

Completed 10km in 63 min..

Completed 5 years in.. 5 years

Shyness my shield

2009-05-27T15:46:00.002+05:30

.."It was impossible for me to speak impromptu. I hesitated whenever I had to face strange audiences and avoided making a speech whenever I could. Even today I do not think I could or would even be inclined to keep a meeting of friends engaged in idle talk.

I must say that, beyond occasionally exposing me to laughter, my constitutional shyness has been no disadvantage whatever. In fact I can see that, on the contrary, it has been all to my advantage. My hesitancy in speech, which was once an annoyance, is now a pleasure. Its greatest benefit has been that it has taught me the economy of words. I have naturally formed the habit of restraining my thoughts. And I can now give myself the certificate that a thoughtless word hardly ever escapes my tongue or pen. I do not recollect ever having had to regret anything in my speech or writing. I have thus been spared many a mishap and waste of time. Experience has taught me that silence is part of the spiritual discipline of a votary of truth. Proneness to exaggerate, to suppress or modify the truth, wittingly or unwittingly, is a natural weakness of man and silence is necessary in order to surmount it. A man of few words will rarely be thoughtless in his speech; he will measure every word. We find so many people impatient to talk. There is no chairman of a meeting who is not pestered with notes for permission to speak. And whenever the permission is given the speaker generally exceeds the time-limit, asks for more time, and keeps on talking without permission. All this talking can hardly be said to be of my benefit to the world. It is so much waste of time. My shyness has been in reality my shield and buckler. It has allowed me to grow. It has helped me in my discernment of truth"..

- MK Gandhi, The story of my experiements with truth

I am not a Gandhi fan. My superficial knowledge has made me conclude that had Gandhi settled for life in Natal, we would have gained independance atleast 20 to 30 years before 1947. But 100 pages into this book and I am amazed at the clarity and resoluteness in thoughts, humility in words and conviction in deeds that one man can show. I still havent stopped believing that he delayed our independance. May be after I am done with the book my belief will stand shattered..

New sykil

2009-03-18T23:46:00.003+05:30

My 4 year old Hero Hawk hurts in the wrong places. After much consideration, thinking and thorough research (all of it lasting for a cumulative 15min), I bought this last Sunday.

A Hero Octane NV with 21 gears : Rs.7500
A ting-tong bell that reminds me of school: Rs.50
A sturdy red lock: Rs.300
A seat that hurts almost as much as the previous cycle and the inability/lack of 'meter' to tell mom the same: Priceless!

The last one is not entirely true actually. Just felt like exaggerating and adopting the MC ad here.

'Height' of joblessness

2009-01-29T09:25:00.002+05:30

During the golden era of the Vijayanagara Empire, while cows slept, grazed and defecated, humans slept, ate, defecated and built these.

Shopping!

2009-01-27T13:15:00.005+05:30

Vinu wore this jeans pant yesterday.

We went shopping after lunch to Garuda mall. As part of a 'well planned' shopping expedition, she was searching for jeans which satisfied these criteria:
1. Should fit. Even when she contorts her body at an obscene angle and tries to look at her backside that pant shouldn't show a crease out of place.
2. Should be of a dark shade.

After around 90 minutes of relentless trials (I think her back ached and she stopped looking behind with her 'own eyes' and used the mirror instead) she settled for this.

Blind or what! Ofcourse they are NOT the same. Doesn't look like subtlety is your middle name, does it. Tilt your head 90 degrees to the right, raise your left hand exactly 30 degrees, pucker and move the focus behind the pant.

See the difference? Enlightened? Well, I am!

2008-08-12T10:36:00.000+05:30

Long distance running is no joke. In the initial stages of the 'training' atleast. Some history: Mumbai marathon is in Jan 09. TI India has formed a marathon club and we have an extremely fit and thoroughly motivating trainer in Keith Kuntz. I have been training for a couple of weeks now. A few short distance semi-sprints (3-4km in under 20 min)and one medium distance run (9-10km in 70 min) was my preparation level, until last Sunday that is. That is when we had our first 30km run. The emphasis was on completing it and not on how fast we complete it.

At 6:30am nine of us started on a 4 min run + 1 min walk strategy. Two rounds of 12.5km and one 5km round was to be completed at any comfortable pace. Drizzle and strong opposing winds were to accompany us for over 2 hours. The first 12.5km was surprisingly uneventful. All of us completed it in 75-80 min duration. 4 dropped off at this juncture. System evaluation showed that my legs were holding strong and I wasn't dehydrated either. After refilling our water cans we set out on the second round. 6-7 km into it, my right knee started reacting. It became increasing tough to restart after every 4+1 cycle. By then we were only 4. I kept pace with the front runners. But at the 20 mark the brain sent bright red signals to every body part. Screeeeeeech. 20 km in 2:15. I had to make it back alone to the entrance. That was aonther 3km in 00:30.

Total: 23km in 2:45. For a first timer, not bad.

One thing that Keith asked the team to remember every time we felt like giving up: How many people in my family have done this before? Believe me, this thought works wonders on your physical faculties. Another thing that kept me motivated: Keith is 39 and the fittest guy in the team is 45. If they can, I should.
Both of them completed 30 in 3:05. I was 4th at 23km.

And Saturday was a dream day too. Ofcourse there was a nice 7am sunshine and aiding north-east south west wind, but 2 stump uproots and 2 genuine outside edges in a single cricket practice session is something that has never happened and I can be proud of.

Climbing stairs took quite an effort. Had to take Monday off to recover. Waiting for the next weekend now.

2008-08-04T10:35:00.002+05:30

A different Monday this one. French project managers on vacation. Japanese customers on vacation. Immediate boss on sick leave. Best time to do something about my writer's block.

Its been over 2 months since we returned from Darjeeling. With scarce water supply and filthy crowded streets teeming with Tata Spacio Gold pick-ups (Sumo look alikes. Havent seen them in B'lore) this 'hill-station' is just another K.R.Market at 7000 ft. Go there only if you hate your wife. Aah. MY wife. Let me say a thing or two about her here.

Affable
Beautiful: She looks best in white. Or is it green? I think it is blue. Nothing can beat red.
Chocoholic: Apt company to mom.
Delicate: Haven't protected anything more than her till date.
Emotional: Yet placid.
Forthcoming: I will hit you if you do this. Phutaak!
Gregarious: She will starve but wont eat alone.
Humble
Indecisive: Should I wear the ear-ring with white and silver beads or the one with silver and white beads? I
have an answer: The one in the left hand. What would she do in my absence?!
Jovial: Smiles always. Perpetual cause for her headaches.
Kkkkahani-lover: Ask her about the sixth husband to the fifth wife of a re-incarnated hero. Unlikely that she
wouldn't know him.
Kannada-handicap!
Movie-buff: I dont wanna talk about this.
PURE
Sensitive: Try calling her blind!
Temperate
Unpretentious: She is what she is and she loves being just that.
Vivacious: Ask mom what home feels like in her absence.
Wanderlust
Young at heart: I am jealous of this. Touchwood.
Zealous

I actually said 21 things about her. Thought I will write about some general stuff. No more for the day. My
fingers feel sweet. Let the sweet taste linger.

Mehendi mere naam ki

2008-03-04T20:47:00.004+05:30

I've seen this photo on more than two instances today and every time the feeling has been the same.

"Wake up dude..See your name there?..Your dear girl has unconditionally shown faith in you.. Live up to it."

WOW!

But this came at a cost (that I was ready to pay). I wasnt allowed to play the opening match of the GREAT PTL CUP-08, which TI won.

And I have never savoured Filmfare awards either. Not the 1st. Not the 53rd. I cry foul play here!

One night in the morning..

2008-02-16T23:39:00.002+05:30

It was quarter to ten when the bus finally started from the bus stand next to Maruti Mandira. I was in the second row aisle seat and there was company on the window seat. A colleague of mine. We were, for some reason that I currently can’t recollect, on this bus to Chennai that night. In the seat in front of me was this lady whom I thought I knew. Curiosity got the better of me and it was soon allayed at the sight of a couple of tickets in her hand that she was perusing. She wasn’t alone either.

I seemed to know for sure who she was with. Strangely she seemed to know that I knew. Invisible eyes at the back of her neck waited in anticipation.

“So you are taking him to your mother? An introduction session?”, I hated the sarcasm in my tone but it came naturally. Intention was clear: to prick with words. The attempt seemed futile though. “Mother is in the hospital. She has met him.”

I saw him through the open door by the front left Goodyear wheel of the red bus. There was sand interspersed with grass and for some strange reason he was shoveling on his haunches. I had expected it to be him and hoped it wasn’t. But it was him. The lump in my throat, and its involuntary formation, both were vexing. Amidst the irritation I realized the bus had started moving, but only a couple of meters later.

He was still digging and all he could manage in response was a glance from outside into the front seat window. He saw her. I saw him. She saw me seeing him with my right butt up. My mate was either fast asleep or not in her seat. I didn’t bother, for either ways I got a good look at him. His thick glasses gleamed in the street light but there was absolutely no sign of panicking. We moved a few meters further and he got back to his digging.

Guilty as hell

2008-01-27T12:32:00.000+05:30

When it comes to making decisions in life, there are two categories of people. One is a category that gets to know once the decision is made. This group will give "oh ok" as a statement in return. The more loquacious ones here might say "Oh thats nice. I am happy for you".But the other is an integral part of the decision making process itself.

I want to be a good manager in the near future. And I learnt a very important lesson today, the hard way that too. People from the latter category are NEVER supposed to be moved to the former one. Doing that can be quite costly. Tears will roll, phones will be slammed and no matter how inadvertantly that might have happened, your intention will be doubted. In reality this might not be the case, but they will choose to believe that you have 'changed' and try to adjust themselves to you accordingly. They will never question why you changed this way, but will mutely hope that you haven't.

Not often do we get to make very important decisions in life, and in making those if we drop certain decision makers out, some real serious introspection will be needed. You can never convince them on why you did that because they have the reality in front of them. All you can do, and you HAVE to do, is convince yourself that you are still the same and let your actions speak in the future. Want to manage things better? Never repeat this mistake.

I wont.

Miles to go, promises to keep

2008-01-22T01:08:00.000+05:30

No matter how long an empty stretch of road I see
No matter how tempted I am to rip at one twenty
I promise, my sweetheart, careless I shall never be
For it has dawned, my life is more important to you than to me

Let my empty stomach rumble, let my parched throat dry further
But in times when food sucks, how much ever interest you try to muster
I promise, my sweetheart, I wont eat or drink either
For I vow to stand by you always, and that includes thirst and hunger

There will be times when insanity will prevail and you would want to fight
Through the day you would argue, and prefer silence in the night
I promise, my sweetheart, I too will put up a good show with all my might
I shall succumb in the end though, for your happiness is what I prefer, to my being right

Passionate I am about a few things, which make me feel real happy and wise
Meetings and preachings I might skip, for the sake of these, I dont mind uttering a few lies
I promise, my sweetheart, but if it comes to choosing, I shall break all those ties
For only you are worth my dream, and on that I shall never compromise

The composition is only 80% complete. The rest will be scripted live, without rhymes or retakes, in the next 175 years .

Now how true is this?

2008-01-03T19:23:00.000+05:30

"..Of the many things I was forced to realize in reflecting on the time spent with.., perhaps the most sobering and terrifying was the understanding that the strongest and deepest bonds we form in our lives are with people who know how to hurt us in the most devastating ways.."

I feel the other way is truer than this. You can get hurt only if you care.

Any opinions?

The year that was

2007-12-30T18:13:00.000+05:30

I dont like flowers. Now the hate relationship has become mutual. The bunch of flowers that I bought last week (first ever in my life) didnt serve its intended purpose and ended up in a trash can in my office parking lot. A dark chocolate bar with a high percentage of cocoa content in it (70% actually) also conspired with the gerbaras and decided to melt inside its gift wrapper in the very hot afternoon sun the same day.

No cribs though. For 2007 has been the year of the bananas and this was the sweetest one that I got. There is still a today and a tomorrow to go, but I am confident that that was the last one too.

This is also going to set the tone for 2008. I RESOLVE..

..I am not going to get any more bananas for 08. How will I do that? Simple. Some people are born with limited faculties in the 'luck' department and I have realised I am one among those. I have even realised that my banana stock built up only because I did things that such people shouldn't be doing. No out of the way activities will imply no bananas. By the way, banana is a good friut for health but a solid ego-bruiser.

..I will resume cricket and guitar practice with the enthu I lost some time ago. Only these two can keep me sane. And ofcourse work @ office.

Short list, that one. Hope I get these going. I zeroed down on these on the banks of Malaprabha in the backyard of Pattadkal group of temples yesterday. Took mom and dad on a pilgrimage to our kuldevta and kuldevi in the remote interiors of North Karnataka yesterday (29th).

On 27th morn I got this sudden urge to purge my 2007_sins_bin and asked dad to cancel his solo year end trip to his ancestral god's abode. Mom is eveready to sit in the car provided it satisfies 2 criteria. I drive it. And the destination is not some traffic laden street in Bangalore. 1200 km and her son, Sameer Joshi, the sole driver, were enough to get her ready for the journey in a couple of minutes. And so we set out just after dawn on 28th December on a 3 day pilgrimage to Bhairamatti (dad's kuladevta sits here) and Banashankari (Badami, mom's kuladevi stands here). Pattadkal is nearby too and hence a visit.

They are a happy couple now. Proof..

Bhairamatti appa was happy too.

And so am I. I am PURGED you see.

The only unhappy candidate is the car. Came back with a one stop strategy covering 410 km in 6.5 hrs. It is still crying. Anyways, a very memorable and fruitful trip we had. Personally my shoulder blades are moving like as if some invisible hand has depressed the SHIFT key in the power point presentation called life.

AND AND AND..

I am renewing my 'you hate me I will hate you contract' with flowers. Its absolute this time.

Somnathpur and RangantiTTu

2007-12-30T16:37:00.000+05:30

K7 and I had a memorable outing to the above two places last Saturday (22nd Dec). For two reasons I link to his travelogue. I am lazy. He writes better.

Tour de Bangalore

2007-12-17T11:43:00.000+05:30

Title courtesy : K7

The last time I did some serious cycling was sometime in 2004 when I was in Chennai. I used to cycle, once every month on an average, from campus in Guindy to my LG's (local guardian, my mom's younger sis) place near Koyambedu. That was apprximately 20 km. On Chennai's relatively flat roads that distance would be traversed in approximately 90 minutes.

Now that I have moved in with my friend to his place just under 3 km from office, after more than 3 years I got this sudden josh to use my Hero Hawk to commute to office. The 'big thing' then was to take the cycle from Vijayangar to CV Raman Nagar, separated approximately by 18 km. Big thing because I completed 25 last month and because the last time I even slept facing the cycle was more than an year ago. Hadnt even bothered to clean it on 2 consecutive Ayudha poojas and was apprehensive that the ayudha would abhor my ass on its seat and cause some irreversible damages.

Surprisingly mom and dad were quite cool about this new found enthusiam in me. Dad was interested in the time I would take to erach office. Some encouragement that one. After some oiling and general conditioning on Saturday afternoon, I started from home at 11 on Sunday morn, with Don Williams crooning in my headset. It was quite sunny and breezy too. I started at a fast pace and then near Anand Rao Circle area I realized I will not make it if I dont slow down. From then on it was more of a pleasure ride, drying all the sweat that had crept down my back during the jawani ki josh phase (first 20 min). Unlike Chennai, this shity never has a decent stretch of flat road. I made it to office in 80 minutes.

It wasnt meant to be a pleasure ride and it wasnt either. Just had to prove a point to myself: I am fit. Occasaionaly I saw a Innova or a Baverian Motor Works car pass by with just the driver in it and cursed them to heart's content. But all along there was this picture in my mind that I tried to keep pushing to the background, with little success though. It was the picture of a red Zma and a mountain mist Wagon-R, hand in hand, shining bright in the afternoon sun, grinning impishly from headlight to headlight.

Samarkhand! That is where I headed after the sun bath. A 'high flying' friend of mine was spending his last weekend here and wanted to treat a few dosts before flying away. We were 5. I was the odd man out, in the sense that the farthest I have gone overseas is the Elephanta caves off Mumbai's coast. The remaining 4 are flourishing or soon to flourish associates/business analysts/traders. So they basically keep flying. The dood who treated was in Singapore 2 weekends ago, in Chicago last weekend, in India this weekend and will be flying to Dubai next weekend.Somehow I couldn't help comparing this to my being in Shivajinagar 2 weekends ago, in Vijayanagar last weekend and CV Raman Nagar this weekend and didnt try keeping back my sense of feeling tiny. He would have gone back and told his wife "Honey I shrunk Josh"!

I came home and slept early. Had to heal two paining body parts. A bruised ego and a bruised ass. The former is doing good now, but my ass.. mummy..

If you cant flaunt it, its not worth having it.

2007-12-03T19:44:00.000+05:30

I have a lot of bachelor friends in office. They are more of friends than colleagues. From the outside all of them seem to be happy and cheerful. The more I am with them, the more I wonder. Is there no trouble that haunts them? Is there no grief that hurts? How are they so sanguine always?

To say the least, these doubts are only philosophical and rhetorical.But why did I get these doubts in the first place? I guess it is this. To my friend's soul and mind, I am an outsider. I have no clue on what is happening inside and my inference is based on only what the visage projects. I trivialise all the biological and chemical reactions that are happening inside him because I dont see them and naively conclude that, if he smiles, he must be happy.

I am enlightened! Here lies the solution to all my problems. I need to look at myself from an outsider's perspective. Only then I think I can trivialise them as if they are not mine and smile at them.

I think I know how to make things work in this direction. Let me know if this thought process seemed logical.

Find me a gal soon mummy!

2007-11-16T15:24:00.000+05:30

Sameer Joshi, design engineer with TI Wireless Group for over 3 yrs now, turns 25 today. Sameer Joshi, the blog owner, had a quick chat with him this afternoon. Excerpts from the tete-e-tete.

TI shares fell to a 7-month low today...

NO! That has nothing to do with the fact that a third of my life has become history on the same day.

Just kidding. I am sure you would have resigned to temptation and switched to retrospective mode last night. So how was the bygone year? Only a jist please.

Very shift+deletable year. I lived for the exact same reason a hen lays eggs. Desultory, demotivated and deflated existence. Woaa! I had an inclination to use words starting with 'C' before. I have moved to 'D' now. This year sure will be 'forward-looking'.

Ok. I get that. So. Any resolutions for the year to come?

Not exactly resolutions. That is too strong a word. But I definitely want to make concerted and sincere efforts in a few directions. Three actually.

One. I had been to Tirupati some time back. After driving for 12 hours, walking 9km, ascending 3700 steps and standing in his serpentine queue for a tad under 5 hours, I asked Lord Venkatramana to give me strength to be a diligent worker. I have quite a few things that I would want to do ('achieve' is a big word here) this year that need involvement, dedication and conviction (clubbed together as 'strength') and Govinda needs to give me those. I guess they have already been deposited in my account. I shall start encashing.

Two. My mom has a big heart. Yes. It has to be the heart. I cant think of any other place where she stores all the shit I give her. I want to flush all that out this year. Period.

Three. I realise that most of the conscious time I have, I spend either remisniscing the past and feeling sad that it doesnt exist any more, or pondering over things that lay in the future and feeling insecure and tensed. Is it hard to live just the present and be myself? I dont want to think so and want to prove to myself that it isnt. I want to relish the NOW, savour the ME.

Selfish, but nevertheless realistic and realisable goals. Hope thess bring some peace of mind and sanity in life. All the best. And once again. Happy birthday.

Thanks.

Something at last...

2007-11-11T20:26:00.001+05:30

My only 'achievement' in TI in the 3.33 years since I joined TI.

Our team (WABB - Wireless Analog Baseband) had one last year. Owing to lack of regular players I had to play all the way till the semis. Thats where/how we lost.

I shall still feel happy.

Free and sweet.

2007-11-07T14:38:00.000+05:30

Me : "When are you going home"?
Cubicle neighbour #1: "It depends on when I get IT".

On leave cubicle neighbour #2: "Arrey yaar! Jab WOH milega to mujhe phone kar dena please."

Mom, this morning: "So atleast today will you get IT?"

On the lunch table: "So we are not getting IT this time eh. This is heights of cost cutting!".
"No! I saw a girl outside with something that I suspect was IT".

Finally we got IT. Disappointments and happiness galore. Some say its heavier. Others feel it is smaller. Elsewhere the variety inside seems to evoke mixed response. Anyways, the storm has passed and lull has prevailed. Cubicle neighbour #1 has left to board the earliest bus back home. Last year he had to brook a night long journey standing owing to ITs delayed arrival. He left a lot more happier this time. Neighbour #2 is on the way to collect IT and mom wants me to return home ASAP with this priced possession.

But this beats me. Each one of us can afford a box full of assorted sweets for a little over 200 bucks and feast on it. But what is it in a 'free' sweet box that can govern your course of action for an entire day? How can a 'free' sweet box bring so much unadulterated happiness? Is it in its 'freeness' or its sweetness? I know. The question is just a rhetoric. But whatever it is, who cares! I got mine and I am happy too. It sure is heavy, and I shall leave it to mom to decide who eats what.

HEARTIEST WISHES ON DEEPAVALI!
(Thats what the box says)
May the free sweets keep pouring in. AMEN!

Advice please..

2007-11-05T09:53:00.000+05:30

My boss called me on Saturday night, from Udupi (he is on a vacation) asking me about that day's cricket match. TI was supposed to play its second TNT league match on Saturday. He is a very solid middle order batsman and a clever medium pacer too. He was surprised when I told him I actually didnt play the match (I had hinted at that before he left) and have no clue about the result either. It was very clear in his tone that I was being too stubborn and foolish with the incident I had with the captain a couple of weeks ago. He bruised my ego and my boss is witness to that.

This is what I am:
* I dont insult anybody. I avoid criticising.
* I take insults and criticisms very seriously and it takes a long time to get them out of my system.
* Being the younger one at home, I m used to being pampered and I am involuntarily tuned to expect it from all quarters.
* Self motivation alone cannot drive me. I need a good dose of back-patting, applauds, recognitions and encouragement from people around.

I am presently reading this book "Genome" by Matt Ridley. This book has convinced me that what I am is not what I chose to be but what is built into me. In the past I have tried to work on points 2, 3 and 4 above, but now I know I am at the mercy of my genes. All efforts to re-organise my traits are abortive.

And so I shall not play cricket. Am I doing the right thing?

The bullock cart incident

2007-10-31T13:21:00.000+05:30

This is one of the blandest titles for any post..

On the way to Devagiri temple just before noon on Sunday (it was my parents 28th wedding anniversary), a bullock cart rammed into the rear door of our car. A fifteenish kid was in 'control' of the cart. He had to bear some verbal and physical abuses from dad because doing that to the bull wouldnt help.

Apparently the cart belonged to the kid's father. Dad asked him to tie the cart to a nearby tree and go and fetch his father. This he did and started walking in some random direction. He was 100m or so away and the sheer helplessness of the situation dawned on dad. What would his father do anyways eh? And so we moved on, as the kid kept walking, with not a single backward glance.

But this thing troubled me for a couple of days. Agreed. We had to vent out our anger and frustration on some one and that guy was our easiest target, but did we do the right thing? We just drove away after sanity prevailed, but what about the boy? Did he ever go back to his father? What if he was a monster of a man and this incident would mean flogging on the kid's part? What if the kid feared severe repurcussions and never went back home? Fear can direct a small boy's decisions right?

I only hope these are just exaggerated baseless thoughts in my already perturbed mind and that life is just as normal for that guy.

As for the car, a swimming pool is formed near the rear seats whenever it rains, albeit a kid's one. To my rotten luck it is raining almost every evening these days. A repair is impending, but i plan to 'disown' the car for some time.

Pining for peace within..

2007-10-29T11:28:00.000+05:30

My apartment is taking a frustratingly long time to make itself worthy of occupation. The every day 35 km to and fro journey to office in the maddening traffic has started getting to my nerves big time.

An ox cart rammed into the rear door of the car yesterday. Door might need replacement. Additional unwanted expense.

Dropped my 6300 twice on Saturday. I can see the inside circuitry through the opening on the left side. Back to my W205 for the time being.

A rift with my egoistic captain means I wont be playing cricket for a long time.

Still searching for an activity that will keep me sane. Patience has abandoned me. Loneliness has taken its place..

Ineluctable impasse

2007-09-10T15:48:00.000+05:30

A wants to show B that he can actually be with B, the way he actually lives, in the world beyond B. Nonchalant. Practical. Strong when it matters. But being any of this means silence and distance from B. In which case B will never know what A is.

The worst part of the quandary is that, either ways, B doesnt care what A is. But A desperately wants to show it.

A deserves a slap. I obliged.

Still, God save A.

Lost

2007-09-05T14:40:00.000+05:30

So you had a good time with it in the beginning?

Yes. Very much. I still can vividly recollect the first time I got it and the effort that had gone into making it possible. This thing that I had, I worshipped. I cared for it more than anything in the world. I did everything just to make sure it stayed with me.

What happened then?

Slowly, without my realization, it turned into my obsession and my weakness. Its very thought became a kind of background activity in my mind's processor, 24x7. I became dangerously possissive. I began to feel that I OWNED it, in every sense.

How did it react?

This thing, insensitive and indifferent, never understood any of this. It never talked to me. How could it? It was dumb. And I have always been deaf to subconscious communications. But I sensed, wrongly I can say, that it considered me more equal to it than others.

And then?

Over time possessing it became a liability to my existence and I continued hanging on to it only because the memories, of the above said effort and the initial days spent with it, were still very strong.

Did it end then? This nexus?

Finally, after 18 months of a real strong bonding, I managed to lose it yesterday. It actually had a shelf life of another year and I had actually resolved to keep it with me for that long, even if it meant insanity. But destiny had its ways and I was only too human, weak and immature, to stick to my resolution. I bruised it to the core. Even the stone heart that it had, surprisingly gave way, and broke to pieces.

I am sorry.But..

Yes. Possessing it had its own ups and downs.But on an average, I was happy and consider myself lucky that I had it with me for this long.

How does it feel in its absence?

Its been over a day now. First time in 18 months I have no clue where it is or what it is doing. But surprisingly, I am quite cool about its loss. Afterall, I decided to get rid of it. So I cant crib. I had a very painful night yesterday, but I feel it is manageable. I am getting used to its absence pretty fast. I wouldnt say I am happy. But definitely I am not sad.

Would you like to tell it something?

It wont read this. But yes. I want it to know, somehow, that,
a..being possessive is not my natural trait.
b..circumstances made me a bad guy with bad thoughts.
c..and it was the most beautiful thing that I ever possessed.

Quality from birth..

2007-09-02T20:05:00.000+05:30

.. wont go even if you burn it. So goes a Kannada adage.

After the longest of the longer long times, I gave a test today. Logic Masters 2007: an online puzzle test to select the best puzzle solving brains (ya ya.. I still wrote that one. Whose father's what goes eh?) to represent India at the world championship in Bbbbraaazillll.

My aim was to improve on my last year's AIR of 44. If that means being in top 3, I will be happy, but India@WPC.. paapa only. Anyways, I set a modest 300 as my target in a grand total of 1000. After 3 and 1/2 hours and infinite piss breaks (Its a puzzle test for christ's sake! Still the same JEE types nervousness), I thought I had scored 307. I am GOD!

But the GOD in me left in a jiffy when the score sheet showed 277. Careful analysis showed that I had mis-entered the values for one question from paper to the flash movie. 30 points went down the drain just like that.

Memories came rushing in. Did they? Not exactly. It was only when I told this to mom thAT she opened the safely locked flood gates.

CET.. JEE.. CAT.. he he.. different commode, same shit. I shall never stop making silly mitakes. Birth quality you see.

Result will be out in a couple of days. Hope I better the 44.

Brownie points

2007-08-31T09:48:00.000+05:30

I had an extremely good beginning to the day today.

Sometime in the morning, one of the radio channels was playing 'In Dino' from Life in a Metro. Very hummable romantic number this one. Instantly I latched on to it and have been singing it for the past couple of hours.

Being an early office goer, I kept singing the song at a not too feeble volume as I washed my cup in the pantry, supremely confident that no one will turn in that early to appreciate my singing (or critique, whatever). But somebody actually had. And that somebody happened to be this extremely likeable female from HR. Here in office, we call her the 'lone standing tall green tree in a charred forest'. Extremely likeable, I repeat, in a very respectful manner. And she is married, I heard. Nevertheless, extremely likeable. Did I already say that?

She was right behind me, waiting for her turn at the basin.

"Which movie is that?", ebulliently she asked.
Blah blah blah (Ofcourse nobody is interested in what I said!)
"Nice song".
"You a good singer."
*Blush* *blush*

I see her almost every other day. But something today told me she was happy talking to me. What a smile I say!

In dino, dil mera
mujhse hai keh raha
tu khaab saja
tu ji le jara..

Geez! I must be singing oftener, shouldn't I?

I am not an intellectual whore!

2007-08-30T09:53:00.000+05:30

A couple of people who actually understand me quite well, have called me a 'nice guy' in as many weeks. I prefer to use, 'called me' over 'complimented me'. Coincidence or not, in the same two weeks I chanced upon this theory and this rant.

I had many reactions to the above two, and that’s not even counting “Eewwww!” (Courtesy : Scott Adams). After having been there and having done all that, in my opinion, being an intellectual whore is anything but nice and being called a nice guy is everything but a compliment.

I am an Woody Allen fan for sure. LT says this short story led to the coining of the, 'intellectual whore' terminology.

Can also visit this of you are a nice guy, nice guy.

When words failed me..

2007-08-28T09:25:00.000+05:30

I stare at the sky, many a night,
With nothing but your memories for company
But then everything hurts, even the serene moonlight,
And my eyes are flooded, with tears that many.

You have no idea how I am living in your absence,
Neither do I.

I intended to complete this. But words just cant express how lonely I am feeling right now.

I miss you ka. Today. Now. More than ever.

Happy Raksha Bandhan.

Dilbertesque

2007-08-24T10:39:00.000+05:30

The first three days of the week were really frustrating. After a long time, I had to do something just because my boss wanted that. And the only reason he wanted it was because his boss wanted it from him.

An insight into what we do (part of it):

Customer X (its illegal to mention where you get your business from) wants some design on his chip to send some data over a channel and recieve it elsewhere on some other chip. He asks us to design an interface for this. He gives the specifications and we design.

In the age of digital dominance, the scales of IC design are unfavourably tipped against we analog designers. All technologies are optimised for driving either a 1 or a 0 and we analog designers fight with these to drive something like a 0.3 or a 1.3. Morover, we design using simulators, on a computer, which are only as efficient and trustworthy as the models on which they run. The consequence of this, and the digital dominance, is that, WE DONT TRUST OUR OWN DESIGNS. And hence, before we deliver the design to X, we produce many 'test-chips' internally to convince ourselves that what we design on the computer and see as the simulator outcome, is actually seen on silicon. Its akin to lot of net-practice before the cricket match.

I worked on one such module, since Feb 05, for 22 months. The specifications were very aggressive and needed some back-to-the-blackboard approach for a viable solution. And we did come up with an innovative idea for the same. The patent that I mentioned sometime back was for this idea. We needed 4 test-chips in this span to convince ourselves that the design would actually work. And when we were, in early 07, the chip was cancelled and so were all the modules that went into it. Apart from some knowledge and experience building and a patent, all other effort went down the drain.

The final testchip came back from the fab last month. The ending was painful but I have 'moved on' now. 6 months have passed and now we have a much better solution, smaller in area (the previous dsign was in 65nanometer technology as aginast 45nanometer now) with lower wattage for those specifications. The previous design can be dumped for good.

But no! My boss's boss wanted to understand if that previous design could be confidently signed off as a stable design. Off I was sent to the lab to 'characterize' its performance. And 3 days I lost in proving this. But the worst part (I havent told this to my boss) is that I have the Silicon results but I seem to have lost the data from the simulator to compare with. There is so much data that I have no clue which one is the latest. C'mon! Its been over 6 months now. How am I supposed to remember! All this is so inconsequential that half my mind is coaxing me to 'cook-up' data from the simulator and tell the world that all is fine. I might do that soon.

I was frustrated for I worked on a testchip that has a module based on an idea that has long been dropped, for a project that no longer exists, in a process node that has become obsolete.

Very similar to this, aint it?

Dilbert: As usual I worked until midnight last night, mom.
Dilmom: At least you made some extra money.
Dilbert: I don't get paid for overtime.
Dilmom: Well, at least it was important work.
Dilbert: Not really. My boss made me change my "PowerPoint" slides, but the changes made them worse.
Dilmom: Well, at least you're prepared for your meeting.
Dilbert: It was cancelled. But that's okay because the project isn't funded anyway.
Dilmom: So ... you worked for free to worsen a presentation for a meeting that won't happen for a project that doesn't exist.
Dilbert: Yup.

Slap him! He is a cabbie

2007-08-22T10:55:00.000+05:30

I am a happy boy today (Man? Naaah). Just a small act of atrocity on the cab-driver kind, tonnes of happiness for my kind.

For more than a mile a disgrace-to-humankind called a cab-driver was stuck behind my Zma. Rather i was stuck in front of his trumpet blower. He honked more often than he breathed, fully aware that there was no space whatsoever to overtake. He pissed me off big time. Three quarters of my mind wanted me to slap him but God had other plans for him today.

Commuters on the Old Madras Road traffic will know that there are no rules at its infamous Suranjan Das Road junction, but its tacit that the right half of the road is for traffic towards my office, and if you are on the other half you should be going straight towards KR Puram. But this asshole overtakes all right laners from the left, makes it to front of the lane, parks his disgrace-to-carkind called Indicab right across the two lanes at some arbit inclination, blocks all traffic on the left lane and honks at me asking me for space on the right lane. I could have accomodated him but I was adamant to move. Tough though it was, I still managed to turn a deaf ear.

Along came police mama. His demeanour (shouting, pouting and the likes) has always made me feel he is henpecked. That poor soul wouldnt miss a chance to vent his manliness, would he? And here was his animal, the cabbie.

"Soovar.Yaako traffic nillstya? Line nalli barakke yen keriyutte?"
(Pig. Why do you block the traffic? Does something itch if you come in the line?)

He mocked a slap. Never smile at a henpecked traffic police man, especially when you have created a km long traffic block. But this dimwit did just that and made it to the history books. Phut! came the first real slap.

"Turn togonDre oditeeni. Hogo straightu."
(Will kick you if you turn. Go straight!)

The animal moved by a meter, thinking that it will fool the mama. Phut! came the second one. This time from the back of the hand.

"Nann jote ne aaTa aaDteeya magane! Hogo muchchkonDu straightu!"
(You wanna play with me son. Close all openings and go straight.)

One final blow on the head and he went straight, with all openings closed. Three quarters of mind again wanted me to raise my helmet, shake hands with mama and say well done. But I didnt want to take a chance. Henpecked, remember.

He didnt do the right thing, for sure. But laato ke bhoot baato se nahin maante. I came to office with a smile. Hope that soovar never found a right turn.

All I want is everything

2007-08-20T09:32:00.000+05:30

The title has nothing to do with the content. This phrase has been in my mind for 3 days now. Thought I can as well put it here.

This post brought back old memories. During second year in college, I read this classic, "The American", by Henry James. The 'hero' here has a supremely confident, mentally strong and mature character. Back then, I too had these traits, albeit in a coarse sense. Newman, the hero, became an instant personal idol. Six years hence, he and I have nothing in common, but this paragraph remains my personal favourite from everything that I have read so far. On what he pictures THE WOMAN in his life as,

“Well,” he said, at last, “I want a great woman. I stick to that. That’s one thing I CAN treat myself to, and if it is to be had I mean to have it. What else have I toiled and struggled for, all these years? I have succeeded, and now what am I to do with my success? To make it perfect, as I see it, there must be a beautiful woman perched on the pile, like a statue on a monument. She must be as good as she is beautiful, and as clever as she is good. I can give my wife a good deal, so I am not afraid to ask a good deal myself. She shall have everything a woman can desire; I shall not even object to her being too good for me; she may be cleverer and wiser than I can understand, and I shall only be the better pleased. I want to possess, in a word, the best article in the market.”

The last statement might seem impetuous. But you've gotta read the book to understand what Newman isn't. I appreciate the lucidity in his thought process here.

As an aside, I am right now wondering where the brashness that I unashamedly possessed in those days has evaporated. This feeling of steady worthlessness is slowly thawing all my innards. I might vaporize soon too.

A different day

2007-08-19T19:56:00.000+05:30

Saturday was a long day. Was awake for a good 18.5 hours.

Cricket:
TNT Cup is round the corner. Too many enthu teams, too few good practice nets. Want a good net? Come early => Be at the ground at 6:30 => Leave home at 6:00 => wake up at 5:30. Efort paid off. Beat two teams to a decent net. Full team turned up. Came back with 40% of left hand fingers swollen and lighter by 160 bucks. Had to treat 9 members to masala soda for turning up.

City beat:
12:00 noon: Start from west (Vijaynagar).
12:30 pm : Reach centre (Garuda mall).
3:00 pm : Head east for movie tickets (Innovative multiplex).
3:45 pm : Buy tickets for 7:15 show.
4:00 pm : Head north (Hebbal) to be jobful between 4 and 7.
7:00 pm : Back to east. Watch movie.
10:00 pm : Head south (Bannerghatta Rd). Stay there overnight.
Sunday 8:00 am : Back to west.

Movie:
Chak De! rocks.I dont appear anywhere in the SRK fans list, but nobody can portray Kabir Khan better. Spare BigB. I guess the director would have pondered over the choice for this role himself. Very sensible direction and sense prevailed in choosing SRK too. If I were in his shoes, Khan would score solely on the criterion of 'relevance of motive'. He is 40+. Amitabh is 60+. The movie is a '7 years later' story. For the motive, SOMETIMES WINNING MEANS EVERYTHING, '27 years later' seems weak. Sorry old man. You wouldnt fit here.

Food:
The masala soda shorted my input to the output. What went in came out unaltered. Survived the entire day on sugarcane juice, strawberry milkshake, naariyal paani, hot lemon tea, in that order. Had my first solid intake for the day just before Sunday started.

Night:
Set a personal record. Slept at the highest altitude in Blore. 10 floors above ground level. A service apartment it was. The monthly rent is more than my salary.

Tuththu anna tinnoke
Bogase neeru kuDiyoke
TunDu baTTe saaku nanna maana muchchoke
Angai agala jaagaa saaku
Aayaagiroke

Vishnuvardhan was made to realise this before my birth (Jimmi Gallu - 1982). 25 years later, sour grapes made me sing this in the balcony, just before midnight.

300..

2007-08-06T12:00:00.000+05:30

..km in 8 hours. That was the distance I drove on Sunday.

Where: Srirangapatna, KRS
With whom: Ajji, amma, appa
Why: Reason at the end of the post.

We left home only after I was done with the last offering in the Karade Kid series (III). That was at 2 p.m. Picked up ajji on the way and hit SH17. Reached Srirangapatnam, amidst light drizzle and gentle, pleasant breeze at around 4:30. Dad wanted to visit the Ranganathaswamy temple. He had come here 33 yrs ago, but at the wrong time. He had returned without paying Ranganatha a visit. This time he was lucky.

By 6 we were at KRS; in time for the musical fountain and stuff. The breeze had sligtly picked up and was challenging the old bones (read ajji and amma). Dad and I were enjoying it. We headed in the direction opposite to where the music would happen in an hour's time, towards the dam stairs. Good sight that one. Water at full 124ft (thats what The Hindu said). All along the way amma had her eyes fixed only on the balekai/mirchi bajjis and bhel puris. Ajji reproached her for this. Appa and I relished this moment. Orkut's [:D] best describes the expression on our face. But amma was finally victorious. She did get her share of the bhajjis and bhel.

7 pm is when they turn the lights and music on. We slowly made our way in that direction. But the distance was too much for ajji to walk. We just had a look at it from across the lake and pushed and pulled our way back to the parking lot. Thats when amma realised she had been robbed. Her small purse inside the big purse was missing (why so many purses, I have no clue!). The loss meant we had to head back to Bangalore without any dinner on the way, for I had 200 bucks in my wallet and a few useless cards (a town like Mandya has no hotel that accepts a credit card!) and dad and ajji completely trusted mom and came along 'purseless'.But nobody was as disappointed as amma, for she was the one who had targeted/analysed/chosen a decent hotel to visit on the way back. Dinner finally was at her favourite hangout, Indiraprasta, Vinjayanagar, Bangalore. 120 km from where she actually wanted to eat. 3 hours later than when she intended to eat (at 10 p.m.). And what did we get to eat? Set dosa and masala dosa. I for one wanted to badly get to bed. Red eyes and all.

Any outing for mom is a potential excuse to stay out of kitchen for some time. I keep trying to give her this chance often. I enjoy watching the way she morphs into a kid, especially the way she peeps into the icecream deep freeze, fully excited about the number of flavours she can choose from ,and at the same time confused and dejected that she can eat only one. The last time (a week ago), she reached the depths (as a mother of 2 20+ plus kids; heights as a 50 yr old kid). After she got her scoopful of mango flavour, she naively extended her cone and said.. "Ishte na! Inna swalpa haaki!". I was slisha embarrassed. But that guy obliged! Is she my mom or my daughter! Sad that this one ended in a way she didnt want. But still, an enjoyable evening it was.

A few things pissed me off though:

Its not the crowd that turns me off. Its their attitude in public. The way they litter such nice places is akin to a dog pissing on a pole and mindlessly moving on. One guy did just that! Finished the shit he was eating (if it is food that I eat, it cant be the same thing that he eats too), brought his hand behind his ass, and flung the paper on to the green grass. A dog sometimes has the courtesy to cover its 'misdeeds' but this son of compound interest (baDDi maga) had no clue where the paper landed. How I wished I could just shove it up his.. But what baffles me is this: Is it because there are no dustbins around, that people do this (this garden has more dams than dustbins) or is it that the authorities have tried abortively and then removed the bins, with the idea of beautifying the garden atleast that way? What happened first?

Then this episode of pickpocketing (loss of 3000 bucks) led to some heated exchange between mom and dad on the way back. Even I raised my voice to bring theirs down. At one point I lost my concentration badly and all 4 wheels were in air for a second.

Memories. Memories. The last time I was here, (Sep 30 2006), it was just me and my companion in the entire garden. Photos here and echoing laughs there. Hmmm. How I wish I could delete them.

And why this outing? Saturday evening I went out on a very expensive dinner treat (ofcourse I treated) and couldnt tell mom about it. (Kesava! Sorry maga! I failed to keep up my promise). Some buttering was needed as she was not ready to talk to me on Sunday morn. So this trip.

I told mom that there is nothing like seeing the beauty with your own eyes, but she was keen on seeing how it looked through the camera lens. No! Thats not the Tirupati queue..

Retrospect II : I should never have done it

2007-08-03T13:52:00.000+05:30

'Retrospect I' got very ugly. I lost my credibilty there. Nevertheless, this is my space on the www, and I shall post what I like, fictional or otherwise, and so, part II is here.

This was written on Dec 31, 2006. Unlike Part I this never saw the light of the day. I was still looking for the 'THE END' then. For the curious mind, the spoiler first. The protagonist is an 'incorrigible pessimist'. So its apt to go with the flow in the first part and give him only as much as he deserves. So! Expect no antitheses here.

The story so far: The boy finally managed to muster all the courage he could and took the bold step. He accosted her. Without going into the painful details, I will put it tersely. He had the year of his life, with her. He thought his heartaches, sleepless nights phrasing words, plotting steps, all had worked. But they actually hadnt. Facts slowly began to unfold. He started understanding how everything was nothing but an illusion. She was committed, whole heartedly, elsewhere.

Dec 31 2006:

"Even before I met you, you had given away your heart away. Right now, I have all reasons to believe that you are so deeply in love with him (I am glad to know that this feeling is mutual), that you have both built very realistic and colourful dreams/goals for the life to unfold. It is him that you will live your life with or nobody. Let it be him then. AMEN!

You never considered me 'that' way at any instant of time. Despite all my direct words and tangential hints about me being in love with you, you never felt like explaining the above, and how tough it would be to accommodate another person in your life. Consider it my bad luck that you never deemed me worthwhile to know this, even after I repeatedly showed you what you had come to mean to me in a span of one year. You considered me as this emotional, sensitive type who can't handle rejection and so you kept quite

But you know what. Had you told me this in the days when I went head over heels for you, you could have saved one miserable soul from losing motivation in life. But how would you. As it has always been, I am that arbitrary 'somebody', who needs to know nothing about your personal life. I tried very hard to get beyond this stage, and failed. The only way I can convince myself as to why you kept me in the dark is this: You didn't feel like taking my love and words seriously. Why would you? You already had the best man in your life. You some how felt that one day I will forget all this and be gone from your life. I think it will happen soon. But one thing I want you to realize. Your silence has given some wounds that will take a very long time to heal. Not in the near future am I going to trust anyone or care for them.

I might not be a mentally mature person, I might not have that right attitude towards life, I might not have any of those qualities that make him dear to you, and I am definitely not handsome, tall, fair, but, I too have a heart and for most part of the year gone by, you were the essence that kept it throbbing, slow and steady in your presence, fast and sporadic otherwise. None of that matters right now I know, but still I feel like writing it. I get a sense of great satisfaction and pride whenever I think that my heart actually managed to love some one so deeply.

I don't repent for anything, but for this late entry into your life. Who knows, if at all I had known you for another 5-6 yrs more, you would have obliged me in return. But that I couldn't have helped. Destiny had its way here. So, no regrets.

I don't know what I have done, but God has punished me for loving you. The writing is very clear. Love is not for people like me: impractical, over-sensitive, possessive. I shall take this decree and curb all my feelings. To paraphrase someone, I shall laugh at my love for you, very heartily, for loving you has been the problem of my life. That's the only way I can get rid of it. That's what I shall strive to do, come 2007.

That can't stop me from praying for your well-being, can it? I shall pray that both of you get to see the best of life together. I shall pray that he take you away from all the sufferings that you have endured for so long. I shall pray that you give him in return all the mental support and strength that God has blessed you with. May God bless you both with all the happiness in the world."

Its August 2007 now. She wants him to stay with her for as long as possible. That will be another couple of months. She will be gone for good after that. Seven months, through thick and thin, he stayed. He is counting days now. Big deal! You say? Put yourself in his shoes and you will definitely empathise. I am proud of this boy. He cribbed, he whined, he cried, when alone, but with her, he always puts his best smile up. Knowing his position in her life, he unashamedly continues to love her.

She is only going to see better days. Afterall, she has what she wants. But he, no one knows. And he doesnt care either. His only aim now is to see her off to the other shore. Happy and safe. Hoping for a not so miserable future, he sings,

"I'll never let you see
The way my broken heart is hurting in me
I've got my pride and I know how to hide
All my sorrow and pain
I'll do my crying in the rain

If I wait for stormy skies
You won't know the rain from the tears in my eyes
You'll never know that I still love you so
Only heart is remain
I'll do my crying in the rain

Raindrops falling from heaven
Could never take away my misery
Since we're not together
I pray for stormy weather
To hide these tears I hope you'll never see

Someday when my crying is done
I'm gonna wear a smile and walk in the sun
I may be a fool but till then, darling, you never see me complain
I'll do my crying in the rain
Aha.. crying in the rain"

By the way, this was Post #50 :-)

Retrospect I : I shall never do it..

2007-08-01T13:44:00.001+05:30

I wrote this unpublished post on 28th November 2005. It was published actually. But had to take it offline in a couple of days. Dont ask why. This is a letter from a desperate love-smitten boy to a girl in his office; a letter that never reached her.

(Read it in black and white, flash back mode for extra effect.)

So crooned Jim Croce:

"Well, i know it's kind of late
I hope i didn't wake you
But what i got to say can't wait
I know you'd understand
'cause every time i tried to tell you
The words just came out wrong
So i'll have to say i love you in a song

Yeah, i know it's kind of strange
But every time i'm near you
I just run out of things to say
I know you'd understand
'cause every time i tried to tell you
The words just came out wrong
So i'll have to say i love you in a song
'cause every time the time was right
All the words just came out wrong
So i'll have to say i love you in a song

Yeah, i know it's kind of late
I hope i didn't wake you
But there's something that i just got to say
I know you'd understand
'cause every time i tried to tell you
The words just came out wrong
So i'll have to say i love you in a song"

Me no good songwriter, but I'll say I like you, in a blog. Try smiling facing the mirror once, and you'll understand its no fault of mine at all. I'll never find myself in a position where I can talk straight into your eyes, 'cus they are just too bright. Maybe I'll never even give myself a chance to know if you ever nursed a hint of curiosity to know the guy who thrice so hopelessly tried to say a few words, and failed. Jim found wrong words, but I found none. Sad.

June it was, when I first saw you in the cafeteria. Those probing eyes on that glowing face, that shy demeanor, and that smile, ah, that smile. I lost it all in the first week, my senses, my mind, and my heart. November it is now. And my condition has moved from bad to worse. These days I pray. Pray that I get to see you at least once every day. Pray that you return a smile, if and when I muster some courage to give you one. But the Gods aren't that helpful. And so aren't the long weekends, 'cus that's when I miserably miss you.

I hardly know you. Perfectness is very subjective, but I am smart enough to spot the 'perfect' girl- a girl I would like to share my thoughts, my feelings, and my life with; an angel who would fill the every widening emptiness that life these days is. And you are exactly that, a girl, perfect and angelic.

But I shall not whine. Not many people are blessed and lucky to get what they want. And I belong to the huge bunch of ordinary mortals who always want what they can't get and get only what they deserve. Maybe I don't deserve angels. Maybe you deserve some one better, a lively man, a man with nerves of steel, a MAN, in every sense, and not an incorrigible pessimist like me.

As for me, I'll sing this song, and wait for a miracle...

If he brings you happiness
Then i wish you all the best
It's your happiness that matters most of all
But if he ever breaks your heart
If the teardrops ever start
I'll be there before the next teardrop falls

I'll be there anytime
You need me by your side
To drive away every teardrop that you cried

And if he ever leaves you blue
Just remember, I love you
And I'll be there before the next teardrop falls
And I'll be there before the next teardrop falls.....

Dad, my hero!

2007-07-23T18:44:00.001+05:30

Its been over six years since I last arm wrestled dad. I think it was in second year of engineering. Right is his strong hand. Left is my forte.

He was 52 then. His appearance belied his age (Not that he looks any weaker or older now). Once a health freak, always a health freak. Thats my father.I was 18. Rotund. Flabby. To say the least, if there is anyone called a power house, I wasnt one.

But it was always a 1-1 draw. Dad would win with right. I would win, hands down, with left. In the end he would brag about his abilities, and I would put my head down in shame. 52 vs 18.. chi chi chi..

It was around that time that I seriously started thinking about improving my physical appearance. To some extent I am happy the way I look now. Not a mirror cracking material, but I have my own cuts, in the right places, to boast about. Dad too has been doing his bit, regularly, to stay fit and on the heels. If at all there is a difference in him from 2001 to 2007, I can only say he looks meaner and a lot more active. But age, bloody age, he cant fight that.

On Friday, he challenged me. Out of nowhere he got the josh to test himself. May be it was the quarter kg bengali sweets he had devoured an hour before I returned home that was taking its toll. With confidence (and humility) I accepted it.

As always it was right hand first. We started. I was impressed with the way his biceps tightened and bulged. Midway, his hand slipped. We had to stop. It was tacit by then. He couldnt put my hand down. He could only defend. I realised it was my day.

We restarted. I told him he shouldnt move his wrist lest I will lose the grip. The strong man that he is, he didnt. He fought for a whole 30 secs. My victory was inevitable. Vistory at last for me.

His eyes were red. No left hand was brought forward. He started analysing what went wrong. He put fundaes saying he gave resistance at the wrong angle and that he would have kept me at bay through out, had he played smart. He is a sales man by blood. Need I say how he defended himself?

Finally I had stop him. I just gave him a tight hug and said..
"Dad. Accept it. You are growing old."

No more words were exchanged till Saturday morning. The reality hurt his ego. Badly. May be I should have kept quiet.

But what the heck! You are THE soopur cool dood maga! (I call him that these days :-).. )

Absolute happiness is a myth

2007-07-20T09:46:00.000+05:30

Our new, and temperory, maid servant is too noisy even to my mom's liking. I think mom is tolerating her only because she is 'a guest of few days'; our old kaamwaali will be back this weekend.

Last night I asked mom why she is that way. Mom said it is her way to keep away from thinking about the joke that her life has become. I believe she doesnt need a listener. She can talk to no one too. She doesnt want to stop, lest she will go into thoughts. Painful, depressing, energy sapping thoughts. This is her short story.

She has 2 sons, past their prime. One is crippled for life. He lost is legs, I dunno when, in a freak accident and now he is 24x7 at home, eternally sick and dependant, counting his days. The other son, works part time as a coolie. If mood permits, he will go out and earn something. On other occassions, he is at home or out passing time. Both demand nothing from their mother. If she feeds them, they eat. If she doesnt, they dont seem to mind. Husband? He drank his way to death. She is glad he exists no more.

Now its the mother's heart that cant stand seeing her sons rot this way. This alone drives her to walk down all the way from Rajajinagar to Vijayanagar to clean utensils and mop floors for a few hundred extra bucks a month. Apart from a few permanent customers in Rajajinagar, she has 'taken up' a couple of houses in our locality. She is requesting mom to employ her on a permanent basis, but mom wont. She cant, rather.

I was tired physically last night. But this story made me retire to bed with a rather pensive mind.

For over a year now I have been living such a self centered life, that only MY ABSOLUTE happiness and worries have become important to me. Out there, there are so many more things, material or otherwise, that I can add to MY life, but I perenially sulk thinking about how it has gone out of control and how things just dont seem to be going MY way.

I think its time I appraised my existence relative to how people around me are living, and for once, try to be happy with the my life, its quality and possessions.

Omen

2007-07-19T09:19:00.000+05:30

They are sitting on the last step of the flight of stairs leading up to the office reception. Both are lost in thier own thoughts. As always, she is the leitmotif of his thoughts.And hers, no one knows. The way they are sitting, a curious mind will wonder if they know each other at all.

HE : Do you believe in omens?
SHE : No I dont.

Silence again.

SHE : Do you?
HE : You took a full eight minutes to ask that. Hmm. Yes I do.

How he wished he could read her mind. He continued.

HE : Do you see the temple across the road?
SHE : Yes I do. What about it?
HE : Six months ago, even before I said I loved you, I dreamt of marrying you there. A week later, they stopped constructing it. It has been abandoned ever since.

Another painful interval of silence.

SHE : I am sorry.

She stood up and walked to the reception. He walked into the rain.

All in the name

2007-07-18T08:47:00.000+05:30

I have wondered, since college days, what motivates people to publish papers in journals, present them at conferences or file for a patent. I still dont have an answer for the first two, but from personal experience I can throw light on the patent thing. After almost 2 months of disinterested cavalier half hearted approach to filing one, i finally got my draft approved yesterday and disclosed the same to the office patent committee. Whether I will have my name embossed on a patent platter, I dont know, I dont care and is also besides the point. The leitmotif here is: what motivates one to file a patent? Couple of things drove me.

Firstly, its the money. For the first one that was filed and had half the world as its inventors (9, actually. My name appeared above 2 others), the returns were quite decent. I dont think it was a path breaking idea, but royalty will be most welcome.

For the second one, a 15 page draft was written, explaining the idea behind the latest 'invention'. Diagrams, equations and all. No fun that one though. I could have finished it in a week, but, you know Prof. Parkinson, dont you? But the most challenging, irking and simultaneously highly pleasing aspect here is christening the idea. For me, if at all I get any more ideas, the "Title for invention" column in the disclosure form will be the second most motivating factor to file a patent. Silly it might sound, but come to think of it. The idea, its conception, is development, all have co-contributiors. But the name, thats totally a single man's contribution and creativity. I GOT TO NAME MY DISCLOSURE. Woaa! Dont know if anybody derived tantamount pleasure on this front, but I hope, I feel, I am not alone here.

"An improved low-power solution over the hybrid amplifier for AC coupled applications with impedance control over a wide dynamic range of output voltage swing and during all instants of operation suited for UDSM processes".

Not ingenious I know. Come on! Its my baby. I will name it the way I like it.

Adios brother

2007-07-17T09:25:00.001+05:30

I never worked for him. My nexus with him was nothing beyond informal. For any problem outside of work, I would talk to him. Any suppressed feeling, I would share with him. He was always there, as my elder brother.

No more though. He moved to Dallas last Friday. He doesnt want to come back for another 5-6 years. Dunno how things will be then. No idea if I will ever meet him again. But I hope we do.

This aspect of life sucks. You grow attached to some one and a day comes when that person says tata bye bye and flies away. Why dont people stay? My sis..

a few very very close friends (all, except me, right top, have settled down elsewhere now)..

each one flew in a direction of his/her own.

Hmm. Guess its still gonna take time to understand this hard reality.

But Paddanna, I am gonna miss you :-(

A compliment

2007-07-16T10:19:00.000+05:30

After a long hiatus, we played a cricket match this Saturday. Much to the captain's surprise, 12 people registered and all of them turned up. On time too. 7 out of the 12 had played a maximum of 2 matches before this. A novice team at best this one, with full of young blood.

We batted first. At the end of 12 overs we were reeling at 76 for 6. A couple of good lower middle order partnerships (I was involved in one of them) saw us post a competitive 184 in 25 overs. A spirited bowling and fielding performance (I bowled my full quota of 5 overs; took a wicket) gave us a solitary run victory.
It was a happy ending. Doubly so, given the inexperience in the team.

I shall blow my trumpet now..

After the game, captain came to me and said.. "Happy? You built this team.". A pat from the team followed.

Well, did I? Not exactly. But yes. TI has a team that can play cricket because I made my passion for the game contagious. For the last 6 months, all senior members in the team were so heavily burdened with work at office, that none of them could attend the saturday morning pratice sessions. Slowly the interest started dwindling. Nobody bothered to renew the contract with the groundsman at NAL for a practice net and we were left netless by early February after the contract expired. Thats when I decided 'to take matters into my own hands'. I went hunting for grounds which were affordable and at the same time not too far off from the Airport Road vicinity. (I didnt mind travelling). Seeing me struggle, one influential senior memeber (who has now retired from active cricket) used his influence and got us a net for Friday evenings at the same NAL grounds. The next step was to bring talent to the ground. We had loads of it, but none was motivated. For the first Friday evening session in early April, we were 4 enthusiastic players. I started forcing it down the gut of some lazy bones, that it was a shame they prioritized a Friday evening show at a multiplex over some healthy physical exertion. Result : 4 rose to 8-9 by May.

Once every quarter the contract with NAL for a net should be renewed. For the period starting June 07, we made sure the payment reached in time. And all looked back on track and we started our regular Saturday morning sessions in June. Ever since, we have a full team (sometimes surplus) that turns up for the sessions.

My punchline to make people feel guilty: "If I can wake up at 6 in the morn, leave home by 6:15, drive a good 15 km to reach the ground before 6:45 to see to it that we get a good net for practice, you people can definitely wake up at 6:45 and come here by 7:00."

People do come at 7 am these days (We had times when the 6:45 session would start at 7:30).

For once, I am proud and happy. Proud that my captain acknowledged my effort. Happy that I managed to spread my unflinching passion among the team members. Proud and happy that my name is synonymous with cricket at TI.

Sorry mummy

2007-07-14T19:06:00.000+05:30

Long time back there was post a with the same title. But this one deserves the title more than that.

Whenever I dont find a cable, mobile charger, MP3 player, car/bike key at my work table at home, my fingers involuntarily point in mom's direction. And she comes running.

Me:"Where is the USB cable? It was right here last night. You swept it off this morning. Darn your broom! Find it for me. NOW!"

Mom: "Why will I sweep it off? It must be somewhere here. Search with open eyes."

Me: "I cant. That is why I called you. I will check the dustbin. Might find it there (The way I say this pricks physically). YOU search here."

She starts of diligenty. Boxes, racks, drawers, behind books. And finally there it is! Hanging from behind the port on the comp. I had left it there after I last used it.

Mom: "Rascal! Look where it is. Badmash. You blame me always".

Impish smile on my face..

Me: "But why do you come running, searching for it? Always? Thats because you feel guilty. You know you dont have control over your hands when it comes to cleaning and mopping."

Mom: "You are so wrong! Just look at your face when you cant find something. Tensed. Dejected. Lost. I dont mind taking the blame and those pointed verbal arrows coming from you. But I just cant see that face. I know yow will do this again. Soon. But I really dont mind son."

She wont expect it, but why cant I say a SORRY? On her face?
LOSER.
Shame shame!

But you are wrong mummy. There wont be a next time. Not in this regard atleast.

The Rose

2007-07-10T09:48:00.000+05:30

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless, aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you it's only seed

It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
Its the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken,
That cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying
That never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed that with the sun's love,
In the spring, becomes a rose.

Nice song too.. this one

Encounter of the uncomfortable kind

2007-07-09T19:07:00.000+05:30

A fortnight back I was volunteered by my boss's boss (for lack of ingenuity, will be called big B henceforth) to arrange for a team picnic this month end. After some net search I decided on this. Looks like a decent place, doent it?

And today was the card swiping day; had to make full advance payment to the resort people. Obviously it was big B's card that passed through the slit. Since I am the Bangalore wallah, I had to take him to the resort office, on Infantry Road. Out we set at 2 p.m in the office cab that I had booked. If I were big B, and if he was in my liberty floaters this would be the course of events..

Given that I am his boss for 3+ years and I have no clue about him or his family, given that he is no run of the mill kind at office, curiosity would prevail and a conversation as natural as this would fall in place.

Me : So, where are you basically from?
He : blah..blah (not important)
Me : You stay with parents?
He : ..
Me : Where?
He : ..
Me : How do you traverse that distance?
He : ..
Me : Why so far?
He : ..

Ok. I guess you get where this is heading. C'mon! He is my boss. He is supposed to make me feel comfortable atleast during that 1 hour's ride, isnt he? But no! All he managed to ask was a couple of questions on my work. Then absolute silence. He kept alternating between his watch and his blackberry and sometimes a peek outside the window. I felt suffocated sitting next to him. Hello! If not for your card our paths wouldnt have crossed! Now that they have, why behave as if I have sinned by taking you along? Shady character. Shady forgettable post lunch hour.

I definitely want to be a manager one day. Soon. But no one will ever write this way about me.

The weekend that was..

2007-07-09T10:28:00.000+05:30

My fascination for dragons, large spiders and snakes, the wingardium leviosas, dementors (The concept of feasting on your good memories to an extent where you are left with only the bad ones.. too much!) seems to stay unabated with me. Proof : I watched two and a half of the three HP movies again this Sunday. Dad also gave me company for some time and later the plots became too complicated for him to follow. I tried to explain but his mind is just too unfantastic to lock to it.

Rafa has improved. Federer was plain lucky. It wont be so next time. But I was happy. Ferrari strategy worked. Hamilton erred. Alonso was useless and Kimi was at his best. Good combination of F1 news for a Ferrari fan in me to sleep with a smile on the face.

Problems galore. Zma refuses to start. Arbit hissing sound from below the seat. Some fuse problem I surmise. Gotta wait till next weekend to have it checked. Net down on both days.

Absolutely no physical activity over the weekend. Not even cricket. No regrets though. Had a tough (physically) week andI deserved a break.

With loads of mummy made food, a neat, free weekend it was.

ABD ABD ABD..

2007-07-06T10:54:00.001+05:30

Gotta keep this place alive. Lot of things to write, lot of free time too (my manager doesnt visit this place anyways), but not enough motivation. Updates on things new/different in life...

3 yrs @ TI:
The 2nd year anniversary (7th June, 2006) saw a full length post to its credit. Anniversaries come and go. No big deal there. The highly indelectable lunch at Indi Joe's (spare the desserts) didnt help enliven the spirits either.
Jist : With loads of downs and a few ups here and there, it was definitely an year worth a Shift + Delete.

NOKIA 6300:
For a gizmo freak that I am, a W205 from Motorola seemed to insult my very existence. After a 2 month nexus, I am done with it. And what did I buy?

Considering that my credit has been running in only 3 digits for 2 months straight, 10K didnt seem to make a huge impact on the pocket. What is brought me along instead, are pride, smile on my face, 2MP camera, 16M colours screen (this rocks!) and much more. Have lost 2 half-night sleeps over feature exploration, but it was worth the effort. Thinking of having the GPRS enabled. Lets see.

Cricket:
Sad but true. My length and line are much more consistent from around the wicket. But this comes at a premium. My inswingers are lost to oblivion. Even on the breezy Saturday morns, the ball pitches and stays dead straight. Gotta work on some pace now.

Badminton:
Been regular at this now for almost 2 months now. I thought I was tough. But 1 hour into it, and I am panting like a mad dog. Stamina.. stamina.. hmm..

Hope to come back soon.

Demand Note to GOD

2007-04-05T09:27:00.000+05:30

Dear God,

Give her happiness, an everlasting one,
to keep her bubbly and ever ready to sing and dance,
Give her a mind, a simple one,
where good ideas and thoughts flow without hinderance.

Give her the grit, a steely one,
that people will admire and wish to borrow,
Give her a dream, a tough one,
in pursuit of which she will forget all her sorrow.

Give her a body, a strong one,
that will brook a storm as a mild breeze,
Give her a mate, a deserving one,
with whom she can share the fruits of all of these.

Give her inner peace, a solemn one,
to stay composed amidst the tumultous crowd,
Give her a smile, a radiant one,
that will reflect her self-confidence, clear and loud.

Give her optimism, a cheerful one,
to lead a life with conviction, every night and day,
Give her courage, a resilient one,
to stand up to what is right, no matter what people say.

Give her a tear, a stubborn one,
to uproot anything that stands up as life's anomaly,
Give her a long life, a memorable one,
at which she will look back and say,"I couldnt have lived it more successfully!"

All in the game

2007-04-02T21:12:00.000+05:30

I hadnt played football for almost 4 months. The intra office tournament was my last venture. This afternoon it was footer time again : 5 on 5 in the indoor court.

My footer skills are not exactly my physical abilities that I would flaunt in front of my girl friend. Both are badly missing. But thats beside the point. After desultorily running around for more than an hour (my teamamtes stopped passing the ball to me 20 min into the game; the opposition stopped marking me soon after. Just too many missed chances), on my way back to the cafeteria, stinking of sweat, a thought process was triggered.

Why do I suck at this game? Frankly, one leg of mine comes in way of the other. Maybe, just maybe, I would have made a name for myself if I had just one of these liabilities called legs, than a couple. But, knowing my prowess elsewhere, which I am happy about, let me put this question in perspective. Why doesnt adroitness in a particular game reflect in another game too? The cricket ball rarely slips through my legs (Yes. I field more often with my legs), but this bigger football creates a sorry figure between the same pair of reliable legs. Hell no! I am not an anomaly here.

The best dribbler/striker in this footer team plays badminton in a way that is anything but agile. I have seen that often. I am no champion material but I cover the court with much greater panache. A good midfielder was in my team for the cricket 8-a-side last year. The cricket ball is just too small for him. That is the impression he left.

I have known precisely 4 guys in my life whose flair in any game they play is tantamount. As for the rest, I guess its just too much conditioning in a particular game that is seen as gaucherie in the others. Gauche I might look right now, but I wanna continue with football. For one, this game tires every muscle. And what more. A prelunch session definitely makes the nauseatic cafeteria lunch quite bearable.

Haunted

2007-03-29T18:59:00.000+05:30

Some time last year our CEO made this statement at one of the annual stockholders meet:
"The world of communications and entertainment is driving an opportunity of maybe up to 10 devices per person, compared to one device per person in the PC era. Just take a look around and count them - a cell phone, a digital camera, a game player, a broadband connection, an iPod and so forth. If you have any doubt, find your nearest teenager - you're looking at the future."

Yes! I am looking at MY bright future. And what about the teenager's? Game player + cell phone with music player + iPod - a perfect concoction for his doomsday preparations. If I were to be the CEO and I had teenage son, these are just the things I would keep him away from, atleast until I start feeling that he really deserves any of these. But seriously, do the present day teens really need to possess any of these? Is it the age for 'entertainment'?

Somehow, my CEO's stress on cashing on entertainment seems to be a repelling idea, more so because I feel he is targetting the wrong audience. I believe its not just him chanting the mantra. The whole semiconductor industry is on this path - coax a rich dad into buying a 3G, 3.5G phone, for his undeserving son, loaded with every possible entertainment circuitry ever concieved by a geeky EE engineer. Agreed, every party is happy in this deal. But dont we see some long term losers here? Are we so deeply engrossed in our money making spree that we feel not a pang of guilt when we make lofty statements like "find your nearest teenager - you're looking at the future"?

This thought sometimes makes me abhor circuit design, as is the case right now. All my transcievers, phase locked loops, regulators, references are soon going to sit in some NOKIA mobile's audio, camera or display interfaces that will eventually land in the hands of one such teenager.

God save him.

This industry is akin to child labour. Only there, some mean person is cashing on the direct physical involvement of a child and here, however tangential it might seem, we are exploiting the mental suppleness of one. Just because we have moved from the physical to the mental domain doesnt make this industry very different from human trafficking. So I am going to quit this industry, whose foundation is anything but ethical, and search for one that is more humanitarian. NICE TRY! Not in the near future do I see this industry going bust. If I dont screw my child's future, some one else will. So, no point in making a foolish sacrifice. A distorted future is better than no future.

As an aside, talking about someone deserving something, I had this encounter on Monday on Cubbon Road. As I reached an intersection, the signal turned red and the 180 seconds countdown started. I was on my Zma. By my side stopped a Bajaj ChetakX. The gentleman on the scooter started thouroughly started examining my bike. CAK XXXX was his bike number. One side of his helmet's wiper had come off the hinge. An old tattered black bag hung from the hook in the front. Surely a dowry material. I developed an instant disliking for all of his body parts. I gave him the position of a third rate sub-registrar office clerk in KR Puram. He started it.

"Yeshtu Saar idu (How much is this?)"
"85K"

Some more technical details I gave him.

"My son, only this bike wants. College ge hogallvante idilla andre"(wont go to college if he doenst get one).

I had this sudden rush of blood to my head.

"Idu naan togonDiddu. Nammappa koDslilla. Idanna oDsakke yogyate beku". (I bought this. Not my dad. I bought this because I DESERVE this bike).

This reply made me immensely proud. Hope that sonofagun never goes to college.

OK. Back to work now. I am not paid to believe in the power of my thoughts.

In pursuit of happiness..

2007-03-26T22:52:00.000+05:30

Irked with corporeal resolutions and subsequent ineffectiveness in the previous years, when 06 ceased to exist, I adopted the last line from Max Ehrmann's Desiderata as my resolution for 07. Three months into it, its time to retrospect.

I have a reason, right now, not to be happy. And that is because retrospection returned dismal results. Let alone striving to be happy, I havent even made an effort not be sad. Till mid Feb I was too busy to be happy. Mid Feb to end Feb I was sad that my project got scrapped. Since Mar started, I am not happy because I have work again.

Moving from retrospection to introspection, is it really WORK that has stopped me from being happy? Everybody knows how workaholic I am (not). I barely manage to clock those 40 mandatory hours per week that the work place demands. So it really cant be work that is working against my resolution. And I spend around 60 hrs/week on bed, devoid of all human feelings.

Stepping outside my boots, as an onlooker, I think I have reasons to feel good once in a while. My parents are proud that I will be in possession of a HOME SWEET HOME before I turn 25. They are so elated that I single handedly arranged for a loan, completed all formalities, and even got the property registered in my name. Some other year, some other planet, I would have basked in this small glory that I have cornered, but right now, right here, I am not happy about any of this.

I worked assiduously on my patent, as a primary inventor, drawing self explanatory figures, deriving comprehensive equations, surveying literature to see if I had infringed on any existing patents, discussed, ruminated, and submitted the draft for review. It might not make it, thats a different thing. If I were to do the same set of things an year ago, at the end of it all, I would have had to try hard to contain the immense satisfaction and contentment the process would have given me. But last week, I logged out, saying good riddance and havent cared to follow up on it ever since.

I have shown enough diligence and regularly played my guitar for some time now. I can croon along as I play it. I used to lose myelf in it completely some time back. But now, its become more of a formal proceeding. I stop the moment my fingers start aching, 'cus paining myself for perfection doesnt make me happy any more.

Can some one be passionate about something and still not be happy doing it? I still remember those days when I used to wait for 3:30 p.m to strike. Then with all the zeal I could garner, I would head to the gym to bleed some unadulterated sweat. Awesome fun that WAS. And now, more often than not, I carry a lot of garbled thoughts along, and wont even realise when I start and when I am all sweat. The conviction exists. No doubt about that. But happiness. Z i l c h.

Cricket! I have lived for this game. I have spent long minutes conceptualising those perfect inswingers. I used to be proud of my unflinching commitment for the game. But with nobody around to share this passion, happiness has fast disappeared.

Neither am I cribbing nor am I looking for answers. I feel sleepless this night and feel like experiencing some misery. And so this post. Some wise dood told me to pursue my passions relentlessly to keep myself occupied and hence sanguine. Occupied I am, Sir, but devoid of sanguinity...

This weekend I am definitely going to try and get some motivation from Will Smith.

Wish I was a Pardesi..

2007-03-08T09:27:00.000+05:30

Last night on my way back home I somehow felt like taking a short cut through the non-existent main road of Michealpalya. A part of this road, the end from where you exit to join 180 ft road, used to be a one way some time back. But some vexed commuters recently uprooted the board that hinted at this. The road cant actually handle two way traffic, but travailing on this for a few minutes is any day better than getting stuck at the eternally jammed Suranjan Das Raod and Old Madras Road junction. Having said this, I usually avoid this short cut.

But, as fate had it, of all nights, I chose last night to try this road. At the exit point there was an entire batallion of traffic police mamas ready to prance on blissfully innocent commuters who were foreordained to end their day on a bad note.

License please. OK.
Hundred Rupees please.
Why?
That's a one way sir.
Who says so?!
The board.
Where is the board?
On the road.
Its not there.
It is.

A Maruti Omni guy went that extra distance to prove that there was no board there. He took along a small mama, but he never cam back. God knows what happened to him.

But the shadiest part of this whole affiar was yet to come. Two chinkies on a Kinetic Honda, male+female, who came a few minutes later, on the same road, were NOT looted! Just a cavalier license check, a few words, and they were on their way! I couldnt stand this. Upon asking that miserable sonofabitch on his partisan behaviour, the response I got was equally atrocious.
"Avru namma desha alla saar" .. They are not from our country.. !@#$

At that instant, I wished for two things.
1. That I was a Pardesi.
2. That I had a valid insurance. Mine expired some time in April lst year. Was I in possession of this, I would have definitely created a scene there. But on this occassion, I quietly rode back, feeling lucky. Losing 100 bucks is better than losing 5 times that amount.

The first thing I did this morn was drop my zma at the service center. Will pick it up in the evening and tomorrow morn I shall head straight to the ICICI Insurance office.

Lean phase

2007-03-01T21:01:00.000+05:30

Every Thursday evening, all module owners need to send a weekly to the manager explaining all the activities that happen during that week. For the second staright week, I havent sent mine. The reason is as simple as having nothing to write in the weekly.

Not that we bill our cost center on an hourly basis, but its a tacit expectation that we clock atleast 40hrs/week at office. I have done 45 hrs in 2 weeks combined. Work at office these days is akin to mugging in college: lot of backlog vis-a-vis dwindling interest to keep pace.

I am trying hard to convince myself that lack of physical fitness ( a sprained right elbow last week, an aching left shoulder since yesterday) plus lot of time consuming activities on the home front (loan+registration+payments) has kept me away from giving 100% at work. But something inside is making a cussed statement that all the above are just excuses and the actual reason is general lack of motivation.

With 2 modules in the finishing stages and 2 new ones in the planning phase, I have work that actually demands more than 50hrs/week. Hope things will be normal starting next week.

Zma vs. Thunderbird

2007-02-25T10:50:00.000+05:30

After a 70 odd km biking on the Thunderbird(TB) (thanks Kesava!), I feel I am in a decent position to make a comparison with my Karizma (the last reading on the odometer : 11111 km). This being my first attempt at comparison/review I shall copy parameters listed at mouthshut.org.

Fuel consumption :
38kmpl (Zma) against 30kmpl for the TB. 30 is pretty low for the kind of power TB delivers. May be it is the dry weight (168kgs against zma's 150kgs) that results in such a low fuel consumption.

Comfort :
TB's rear seat is a real pain in the ass. Cant say much about zma though, for I havent sat on its pillion seat for such long a distance. But for the rider, TB ROCKS! Bangalore- Chennai distance can be covered with at the max 2 breaks on the way. Zma demands atleast one every 50-60 kms. There is nothing like a 'comfort zone' on the zma seat. You need to shift every 10-15 mins to relax a certain blood starved part of your bottom. But TB is comfort personified. You will need a break now and then only to beat the boredom that this comfort tends to create.

Handling and control :
Though a cruiser, TB seems to be better suited for city traffic conditions. I am not sure, but I guess it is for the same 'more torque at lower engine speeds' funda that applies to cars. Juat an observation, TB cruises at 80kmph@3000 rpm but zma needs 5000rpm for the same speed.

Looks:
People might contradict, but zma scores here. Agreed TB has this rugged,meant-for-business look, but in the age group where bikes matter, zma attracts more 'sights'.

Acceleration ( my original comparison point):
No comparison. zma will reach its destination by the time TB accelerates to top speed (exagerated, but close to truth). TB cries when open throttled. zma encourages.

For my physique, both are grossly ill suited bikes, but if I am still to make a choice, I will settle for ZMA. After all, not often do I get a chance to cruise to long distances. When I do, then what is a Wagon-R for eh?

What hurts more?

2007-02-17T19:31:00.001+05:30

The fact that you are always thinking about some one who is very special to you and that life has gone completely haywire because of that.. or the fact that that special some one doesnt care for you more than the dogs that roam her street?
I feel its the latter..

A trek to KoDchadri peak - Jan 26/27 07 : Part 1

2007-02-05T20:49:00.000+05:30

Kodachadri. Don’t ask me what that means. I cared as much to know what it meant as I did to know where it is. Before departure, I mean. Now I can give details on request. Such was the pining to go ‘anywhere’, that no sooner did a guy drop out from the trek team, I jumped in. Despite my dozen odd last minute ditches on prior invitations, Mithun (trek ‘lead’) was kind enough to call me for this one. All this, a day before the trek.

A few facts that I garnered about the peak (along the way):

The 4^th highest peak in Karnataka (at about 1350m above MSL).
A hundred odd km north-north east of Kundapur and a hundred odd km west of Shimoga. Hardly a fact, I know. But for a guy who thought it was a couple of hours ride from Bangalore, this fact was an eye-opener.
And needless to say, B E A UTIFULLLL…

This was apparently my second ‘official’ trek expedition. First one was way back in March 2006 to a peak somewhere in Coorg district, close to Honey Valley. A risible trek that one was, compared to this back breaking, pant tearing (literally, what with all those thorny shrubs on the way) one.

DAY 0:

To make sure that we do not end up expecting some junket to heaven with 5-star treatment, we were treated to some ‘Swades general compartment’ level 400 kms overnight bus journey to Kundapur. Surprisingly I managed to sleep through most part of the tumultuous ride (Bangalore-Mangalore NH has gone to dogs).

DAY 1:

After a sumptuous breakfast at Kundapur, we set out to Kollur (of the Mookambika fame). From Kollur its all the way UP, to the destination (approx 800m ascent). After a game of frisbie (by the way, we were seven trekkers) and an hour’s wait at Kollur bus stand, with the peak in the distant background, our final leg of ‘6 wheeled’ ride (for the next 24 hours) took us to Nittur. A bumpy jeep ride from here to a village that had ‘a hut and sugarcane fields around’,

left us at our starting point.

Destination #1: HiDlumane falls

A refreshing bath before the climb to the peak and lunch were planned here. But Mithun had decided that we fight for and win each of these small pleasures. With ~15kgs of whatever -we -needed -and -whatever -we -could -fill -in -the -rucksack load on the shoulders, we started our steep ascent, amidst slippery boulders, to the cascade. An hour’s climb and we were at the base of the falls. A war well fought that one.

Standing naked (almost) under the cascade’s cold, pricking needle-like droplets.. aah.. be there to feel it! Heavenly the experience was! We wished we could stay on for ever. But the peak beckoned. Any place we ate, we hogged. I wont repeat it again. With full tummies, we started our descent to the village with a hut and sugarcane fields around.

Destination #2 : Inspection Bungalow, below KoDachadri peak.

Again from the village with a hut and blah blah blah we started the climb, in a different direction this time. Climb. Rest. Climb. Rest. Cimb. Rest. The travail continued through dense shrubs, open grasslands and a sultry afternoon until we reached the IB before sunset, as planned.

Destination #3: The peak.

Almost all souls were badly battered by now. So close yet so far wouldn’t be a nice thing to go back and tell office mates. One final climb and the peak would be captured. But rest would come only at a premium this time. We were racing against time; treating ourselves to a pleasant sun set at the peak was the ultimate goal. And we did it! Breathtaking, marvelous, splendid. Oh boy! Were we lucky or what! Just the right setting to forget anything and everything that has troubled you through the day. Just the right setting to sit, hand in hand, with your girl friend, and discuss, what next. For the seven male trekkers at the peak, what next was not a problem. A mundane climb down to the bungalow, cooking, and sleeping is all we had to settle for. Hmmm. So much for romance on the hill top.

Much to the consternation of fellow trekking groups (from Philips and NI), we cooked our own dinner and relished it.. Rice, MTR ready to eat veg curries, pickle.. we had them all.

And then, a perfect ending to a not so perfect day: Sleep under a blanket of stars with natural air conditioning. More pleasing was the fact that the rug that I carried and cursed myself for carrying along was more than useful that night.

Short story

2007-02-01T10:20:00.000+05:30

He lay there, on his death bed, with one last wish to make.
"Will you marry me", he laboured to ask.
"No", said she.
He closed his eyes and thought, for one last time.. "Shit. I shouldn't have killed myself for her".

Gala week

2007-01-22T09:46:00.000+05:30

Its 10:00 a.m on a Monday morning and I am in office right now. Five minutes back there was absolute silence in my corridor and a couple of adjacent ones too. And why? Out of the 60 odd team members, all that I spot is 13! Apparently my boss and my boss's boss are on leave, along with I dont know how many dozens more, this week. And I am sitting here smiling from ear to ear. Ofcourse there is enough load to keep me occupied for 8X5, but I can be happy about working with no added load/burden/nuisance/interrupts etc etc.. from either my boss or his boss.
I AM THE KING THIS WEEK!

Yet another match update

2007-01-15T13:04:00.000+05:30

Apparently this was our last practice match before the tournament kicks off in last week of Jan. And it was the first for our opponents NVidia.

With the start they got off to ( 89 for no loss in 10 overs), our chances of wrapping up our practice matches with a decent win looked fat. But some clever spin bowling and McGrathish offstump line from our medium pacers in the last 10 overs were good enough to bowl out the novice team for a chaseable 147. Good fielding (3 run outs) and some sharp catching were the highlights of our stint in the field.

Our batting has never let us down. Atleast for as long as I have been in the team. We outscored them with 5 wickets and 4 overs to spare.

On the personal front, I gave away 4 wides (10 lesses than the previous outing), bowled 2 very good overs (cost me 5 runs) and got hit for 5 boundaries off over-pitched deliveries in the other 2.

Overall : 4-0-31-0.
A decent outing. Line is under control now. With regular practice (2 saturdays before the tournament starts) hopefully length should also be alright by Jan end. If not, I will continue to be in the team, but shall lose my opening bowler slot.

In my next birth..

2007-01-08T22:29:00.000+05:30

On you, when I showered my love
Never did I think about anything else
‘Cus I always felt
The lord himself was standing right by my side.

Never ever did I wonder
What the future would unravel
That a basket of flowers and fruits
Would metamorphose into a shrub of thorns

Candidly, did you really feel nothing,
Nothing at all, when you just left?
Atleast I could never ever dream
That you, of all people, would deceive me this way.

Oh no! I am not blaming you
Neither am I sad that you left me
I only spent many a night crying, and if I am sad,
Its only because my soul still is inseparable from yours.

Even after death takes over
Your thoughts will keep lingering in my mind
And I shall return with another life
Only if God promises me, that you will be mine
In my next birth..

I came across this real heart numbing poem this afternoon. It was in Marathi.

Thanks mummy, for helping me translate this.

Match update

2006-12-15T23:01:00.001+05:30

As on most occassions, I was the first to reach the ground on Sunday. The match was expected to start at 8:00. People started waking up at 9:00 and we finally started at 10:00. We batted first. Score: 4 for 255 in 25 overs. Given the short boundary, wayward bowling and fast outfield, any score lower than 200 would have cast doubts on our batting prowess.

I opened the bowling for the second consecutive match. Last match was just short of disaster. This one was far better.

O-M-R-W : 4 0 43 3.

Wicket #1: Ball pitched off and middle and cut off the seam to rattle the middle stump. Obly I was elated. It was my first 'bowled Sameer' entry in the records.

Wicket #2: Nothing special. Just a desparate shot from a confused batsman. Our best fielder took a sharp catch in the mid-off region.

Wicket #3: Yet another personal first. The previous two deliveries had pitched middle and dirfted pad side for 2 consecutive wides. This delivery held line and fetched me a plumb decision.

But my line was a big disappointment. It was basically listless. Result : 14 wides. When the line was right, I overpitched to be driven straight down the ground past the umpire. Still a lot of scope for improvement. But for a 'back-from-retirement' player, this is quite a creditable performance.

We won by 30 runs.

Savage Garden - No! I wrote this

2006-12-14T23:08:00.000+05:30

Handsome, dashing, charming,

Oh those I am not,

Dollars, villas, limousines,

These I ain’t got,

But feelings, care and concern,

These my heart can show and share a lot,

For ,till the end of my life, I shall love you,

More truly, deeply, madly than you ever thought.

Back from retirement

2006-12-08T19:11:00.000+05:30

Not dada. I am referring to myself here. Owing to some negligence on the part of our captain we missed playing the TNT tournament this year. The effort I put in making a 30 km round trip to NAL ground every (almost) Saturday morning at 6:30 for more than a year for nets went straight down the drain. I threatened to retire. Effect : We will be playing a rare warm up match against ARM tomorrow. Warm-up for what? I have no clue. But I have realised one thing : Revolting helps!
ARM is led by our ex-captain. He moved out of TI early this year. We had played their amateur team some time back. Thanks to some solid middle order batting, we managed to win with ease. But things have changed since the last face-off. They practiced hard and played TNT. We have been practicing but we havent even had a practice match since summer. Our middle order line-up is tyro. And the biggest difference.. I AM PLAYING THIS TIME. Owing to injury (I am the Ashish Nehra of TI you see), I was only the umpire last time.
Apparently this is my first match outside of NAL compound. Lets see how the plot unfolds. Gotta catch some sleep now. The match starts at 8 am on palace grounds.

Raagas in Film songs

2006-12-01T20:49:00.000+05:30

I got a chance to listen to some beautiful flute recitals of certain Kannada movie songs in office yesterday. Never knew we had such a nice collection on our office network. Also, never knew these songs were actually based on different Carnatic and Hindustani raagas. I could hum along most songs. Feels good to share some on this here.

Song : Raga
----------------
Moodala maneya : Manj Khamaj.
Few songs in film Aaraadhana are also in this raaga.

Kanneera dhaare ideke ideke : Lalith
This is my favourite depression time song. ANNaavru rocks here. This song has an uncanny resemblance to a Hindi master piece Ek shehenshah ne banvaake haseen Taj Mahal. No wonder both are in the same raaga.

Teredide mane o baa aththi : Shyam Kalyan
The best of two of the best female singers Kannada filmdom was lucky to possess, Vani Jayaram and S Janaki, can be heard in this.

Doni saagali munde hogali : Pahadi
This Kuvempu composition was immortalised through this raaga. Remember Chaudvin ka chaand? Thats the same raaga. Looks like anything slow and soothing is Pahadi.

Hoovu cheluvella tandenditu : Bhimpalasi
Rehman likes this one. Ae ajnabi and Kismat se tum hum ko mile vaguely follow this raaga.

Karedaru keLade : Bihag
Personally I feel this one fits the nadindinta nadindinta beat best.

Nee hinga noDa byaaDa nanna : Shivaranjini
Never knew the song I croon so often these days, Jaane kahaan gaye woh din, is in this raaga.

Hmm. This post is making me feel generally happy now. Nice way to call it a day. Shall go home now.

Questions unanswered.

2006-12-01T09:16:00.000+05:30

You promised me that you would come, I stood, beating the blistering cold,
Dawn became dusk, and you wouldnt come, I was told,
Hurt I was then, when I learnt, nothing mattered, how I waited for you, here and there,
I expressed the same to who else but you, you scratced your head, and bluntly asked "Where?"

Crowded that place was, but I was all alone,
Your addiction, your thoughts, your absence, had all into weaknesses grown,
Hurt I was then, when I learnt, nothing mattered, how miserably I missed you, every now and then,
I expressed the same to who else but you, you looked around everywhere, but into my eyes, and asked "When?"

To melt a stone that you are, myself I dared,
I went that extra mile to show how much I cared,
Hurt I was then, when I learnt, nothing mattered, how hard I tried to do all that,
I expressed the same to who else but you, teeth you bared, and in disbelief you flared, "What!".

To make you my future, I forgot my present and my past,
People lost hope in me, so did I, and away I was cast,
Hurt I was then, when I learnt, nothing mattered, the depths to which I had fallen in your love,
I expressed the same to who else but you, eyes you blinked, and naively you asked, "But how?"

But that was the past, trying to hold on to you, I failed life's test,
Now I am away, away from sight, away from your life, but always wishing you all the best,
Hurt you are now, 'cause you understand all the wheres, whens, whats and hows, and you cry,
You wish to express the same to who else but me, but all you can do now is, ask yourself, "Why.Oh!Why?"

Wish..

2006-11-26T14:50:00.001+05:30

Life had a restart option. With a difference though. Reboot should happen from a non-erasable kinda memory and this memory should be preloaded with certain aspects that you would want to store just before that cold-boot. For usage ease, these aspects should be organised into folders, which 'livers' can use discretion to name. My first folder will be named 'Repenter'. The files inside this folder will explain the leitmotif of the folder.

File numero uno:
File name : life_at_iit.screw
File size : 4 yrs

I consider myself a good example for 'a wrong person at the wrong place'. Lack of options, inablility to think clearly, whatever the reason, but after a lot of slogging I went there. Unfortuntely. Neither did I excel academically, nor was there any value addition otherwise. I just 'existed' there. My parents are proud that their son is an IITian. Few people look up to me thinking that it was an achievement. Only I know how abortive my stay there was. Only I know
how I abhor associating myself with that place. Only I know what a waste those 4 years were. Might sound a bit outlandish. But only I know.

After the reboot, I shall refer to this file quite often. I will keep introspecting with this file in hand. Am I doing what I like ? Am I liking what I do? Am I in a place I would love to be in? Am I in a place that loves me? Life after reboot will be devoid of guilt that hurt me when I tried to answer these 3 years back.

Directory structure is in the formative phase. Will be back with timely updates on this.

Two years up/down?

2006-06-15T14:48:00.000+05:30

On the 7th of this month, half a dozen IC tweak engineers, including myself, completed 2 yrs at TI. Dont take a bow please. No big deal this one. No fanfare either. At the lunch table that day, we collectively reminisced our 1st anniversay euphoria, photo session and stuff. Thats the closest we came to celebrating this year. Talks a lot about the enthusiasm left in the old and brittle bones, doesnt it?

But! Are we to blame ourselves? Nay. This is a mean and ugly corporate world. We are helplessly stuck in this vicious cycle where long hours of quality effort is needed to ensure better performance and laudable results, and this only means appreciation from the customer in the form of more work. Celebrations hardly find a place here.

A few retrospective lines...

Very enthusiastic about work. Thats how it all started. Enthusiastic I was a year ago. Not so enthusiastic I am. Now. No reason for this. Crave for change even when the sailing is smooth and everything in life is just fine. Thats plain human nature.

Work-life balance is nothing but an oxymoron. When work takes the driver's seat, life is not even allowed to take the back seat. It gets mercilessly defenestrated (I am obsessed with this word these days). What with a fast car and a reckless driver called work, it isnt even possible to get out and bring back that life. All you can do is momentarily turn around and look at your discarded life through the rear windshield.

Dabbled in everything, mastered nothing. Thats one sentence which describes the seriousness of my intention to excel in anything outside work. For good or bad, I have lost the conviction that I am not just another also-ran kinda guy. Music, karate, cricket, all these activities that I had pursued with some seriousness in the not so distant past, are now in abeyance. Playing these out from the balk seems next to impossible. Sad, but true.

On a completely uncorrelated line (only reflects the thought process in my mind. Absolute incoherence!), if at all there are any gross misfits in the semiconductor industry, they are schedule makers. In two years I have realised that in such a dynamic/volatile industry, where technology changes faster than a design, sitting in a board-room and setting dealdlines is nothing short of a farcical act. And these days, I see more managers than designers, moving around with hep laptops, with open MS Project sheets, asking if we poor designers are on track. Its high time they realised that most of the time we are derailed!

Its hardly a nice thing to note that retrospection educes only life's cribs. There indeed are a few bright spots here and there and they deserve to be mentioned. Not now though.

Sorry mummy

2006-04-28T11:42:00.000+05:30

Its Tuesday 6:30 pm. I am driving my car on the busy CMH Road. I am on my way to south Bangalore (I stay in west Bangalore) to drop a friend of mine to her residence. She is hungry and she doesnt want to eat twice on the same night. So we decide to have dinner on the way. As an obidient son, I call mom to inform about my plan.

"Hi ma! what plans for dinner?"
"I'll be making khara pongal".
"Drop the plan ma. I wont come home for dinner. I'll be having it outside."
"With whom?"
Her tone changes after hearing the name that I have been using quite often at home these days.
"Is that OK with you ma? What will you eat?"
"Why should you care? Anyways, take care. Dont make it too late".
She hangs up the phone.

A sweet heart that she is, the girl chides me for breaking mom's heart. What! Did I just do that? How? Even now I fail to comprehend how my call hurt her, but it seems I did just that. And my companion seemed to understand that. For two days mom was at best unresponsive to all my words at home. Only the severe cold that I developed last evening could melt her heart.

I dont want to talk to her about what exactly I did to force her into silent-mode. But some how I still feel guilty as hell and frankly, I am scared and upset. If one dinner with a girl, whose company I enjoy, can hurt her this bad, then what will those infinite dinners that I'll be having with the girl I'll be marrying, lead to? Let time answer this.For now, I am sorry mummy.

The time has come for me to rest

2006-04-11T09:25:00.000+05:30

Arjun Singh ki jai!

Frankly, the fear of being overtaken or out-smarted at work-place or elsewhere is the primary factor that keeps me on my heels most of the time. Sometimes I just shake myself awake in the dead of the night, thinking, 'if i dont do it, some one else will'. But if Arjun Singh gets things going his way, I think I can slow down , relax and do things at my own desired pace.

Think about it. 49.5% reservation. Where does it stand now? 22-23% ? So thats an additional 25%+ increase in incompetence and 25%+ reduction in standard. To me it only means 25%+ lesser competition to stay ahead in the future. The future definitely looks secure for me.

Thanks Arjun Singh, you have made my life that much more peaceful and stress-free.

Totally wireless!

2006-02-18T20:19:00.000+05:30

My first totally 'wireless' post!
As I type this, in the halcyon confines of my bed room, the 54Mbps D-link wireless router is seamlessly interacting with the Motorola DSL/Cable modem, transcieving from my WiFi b/g compliant ACER 1641 laptop.
My mood now is euphoric. For two reasons.
Firstly, this 'wireless' feeling is new to me. And anything new, and working, tingles my nerves.
Secondly, being a techie, it gives me immense pleasure, to see some CMOS integrated circuits, some RF, some embedded software, all shaking hands to make a protocol work. Hats off to technology!

Whatever the hinderances, whatever the frustrations, seeing something like this work, I have developed this confidence that the technology that I am working on currently, will defienitely make it big on the cell phones of the near-future. And thats what drives me now. AMEN!!

Its different

2006-01-17T20:03:00.000+05:30

So it was my first day. Working from home feels 'different'. Woke up aaraam se at 8. Got ready by 9. Remotely logged into my office m/c. Worked till 11. Then had a sumptuous lunch. Didnt feel like sitting at home any more. Came down to office at 12:30. Rest as usual.

How it was different:
*No frustrating/abusive attempts to kick-start/electronically-start my huge bike at 7:30 in the morn. Soemhow this mountain of a machine refuses to start for any less attempts than a dozen.
*No full-time-pass(ftp) early in the morning in the office cafeteria, waiting for my 'sweetheart's' face-darshanam ;-)
*No post-cafeteria-ftp ftp in the third floor pantry. again the same leitmotif there.
*Minimal clothing gives me maximum pleasure and whats better than chaDDi-banyan at home!
*But nobody to talk to, besides mom and rudramma, my maid :-(
*Lunch!
*Helmet and overcoat at noon. That hurts :-/
*I actually worked!! Cant find a bigger difference.

Gotta see whats in stake for the morning to follow.

Work from home.. work at office also

2006-01-16T12:20:00.000+05:30

Ok. So finally its kicked off. This TransTII thingy. Now I can start working from home. Atleast thats what it promises.
What with my new ACER 1641 laptop, a decent 256kbps Broadband connection, I guess I can become a rare sight at office. Hell no! I just heard about this core hours funda. Gotta be present in the office from 10:30 to 5 every day.
Aha! Now I get the cruz of it all. All it says is the remaining seventeen and half hours I SHOULD work from home. Guess the concept of weekend will soon be a thing of the past.What the!!

Sense of pride

2005-10-16T13:35:00.000+05:30

Seen the recent BA ad? The one where a gamut of servile Britishers beseech Indians to fly BA, with joined palms? A hardcore Briton might consider suicide as an obvious way out, on watching this ad. But for the moment, I am glowing with a never seen before sense of pride in me.

Thou shalt never accost!!

2005-09-21T04:24:00.000+05:30

On quite a few occassions I have seen a decent looking new girl. Sometimes she is in the bus and I'm in the bus stand. Sometimes its the other way. Sometimes she is on a 2-wheeler and I'm walking. Sometimes its the other way. I havnt ofcourse 'accosted' any of these in my life time, but very often have rehearsed what my first line would be, if at all I garner all my guts to do so. The stress is on if at all, and this tragically stresses my heart. What an ultra-low confidence dud I am. Confidence or not, I have even mono-acted my words and the reaction from the other side. And no guesses, the reaction is without exception, always a cryogenic shoulder (an ultra ultra cold one, that is).

A few of the two way short conversations are like:

Me : Hi, can I talk to you for a minute please.
She: Ok. Your time starts now.
I beat my previous sprint record.

Me : Hi, I am ..
She : So.
Run!!

Me : I have been seeing you in the bus stand for a while now. My mind is totally troubled. I..
She : no she. the bus has already left.

Me : Hi, buy me a pizza.
She : You confused desi.
Phataack! there goes the one-tight-slap

Me : Hi, will you marry me?
She : Ofcourse, I wont!
And I was thinking my other cheek would be spared. Duh..

Me : Hi, can I drop you somewhere.
She : Buzz off.
I avoid eye contact with the she standing next to her.

My favourite only me and no she :

Hi, I am Josh. Sam Josh.

And finally, a dream sequence.

Hi. I am (that would be my name). I live in ( that would be my place). I work for (my company). I studied in (my college). I own a (that is my bike). I also have a (my car). I do (some arbit stuff). And I dont have a self-image, confidence and good looks.

She kneels, raises both hands to the sky, and sings(apparently a Shaggy fan), "Why him Lord!".

New note-book, new promise

2005-09-08T23:28:00.000+05:30

I have been asking for new notebooks from my group admin for all 'office' related writing stuff at regular intervals for the past year or so that I have been employed here. Have 3 of those in my possession now. All total pseud notebooks I must say, with hard bind and gently colourful pictures on the front cover. And each time I have managed to get one with a different picture. This time I asked for one on 6th, for some in-house Data Converters training course. It says 'FOCUS', with 2 darts, red and yellow, sharing a bull's eye. Why 2 darts? Beats me. I guess it goes to show that in this fiercely competitive corporate world, my focus alone wont help. Everybody around also needs to be focussed, to have any sorta competitive advantage over our 'foes'. So I deciphered from the 2 darts picture. What funda man! Clap clap. I like yellow, so those around me are red.

My childlike enthusiasm for 'inaugurating' a new notebook seems undying. Especially when it happpens to be a pseud hard bound book such as this new one, the thrill knows no bounds. I dont see it, but I do feel that grin of satisfaction on myself. So whats in a new notebook that so enlivens my spirits?
* Firstly, I'm using something that nobody has ever used before.
* The touch, the smell, the look of a new book in themselves are things of joy. It feels good to see something so fresh and unspoilt with immaculate edges and spotless surfaces. Absolute beauty!
* On a personal note, its those petty promises that I make and wait to see if those are fulfilled or the book is fully filled first.

This new book, I have promised myself to gain atleast some insight into the theory behind the functioning of Data Converters, one topic that was so conviniently not taught in the hallowed classrooms of IIT Chennai. What was taught then? Exactly the things that I never learnt...

OK then.. tell me your dreams..

2005-09-06T17:16:00.000+05:30

What Asimov said:

"....I once dreamed I was in a hotel,attending a physics convention. I was with ol' friends.Everything seemed quite normal.Suddenly, there was a confusion of shouting and for no reason at all I grew panicky.I ran to the door but it wouldn't open. One by one my friends disappeared. They had no leaving the room, but I couldnt see how they managed it. I shouted at them but they ignored me.

It was borne on me that that the hotel was on fire. I didnt smeel smoke. I just knew there was a fire. I ran to the window and I could see a fire escape on the outside of the building. I ran to each window in turn but none led to the escape. I was quite alone in the room now. I leaned out of the window, calling desperately. No one heard me.

Then the fire engines were coming, little red smears darting along the streets. I remember clearly. The alarm bells clanged sharply to clear traffic. I could hear them louder and louder till the sound was splitting my skull. I awoke and, of course, the alarm clock was ringing. Now I couldnt have dreamed a long dream designed to arrive at the moment of the alarm clock ring in a way that builds the alarm neatly into the fabric of the dream. It is much more reasonable to suppose that the dream began at the moment the alarm began and crammed all its sensation of duration into a split second. It was just a hurry-up device of my brain to explain this sudden noise that penetrated the silence...."

What I have to say:

Well every human dreams of situations as vague as this only to find out, on being fully conscious, that the dream wasnt all that uncorrelated to the scheme of events in reality. However, these occur in, as picturised above, such short a duration of time, that we more often than not, have only a nebulous memory (is it memory?) that we can relate to later. Atleast for me, the arduous task of putting down the same on paper and even going to the extent of analysing it, is a hard thing to digest.

Nevertheless, here you are, confronted with one marvelous psychedelic dream sequence retold by one of the 'wildest' thinkers of yesteryears, Isaac Asimov. As far as I am concerned, there is no story or event or even a hazy fascination, however intriging and laden with complexites it might be, that Asimov cannot explain. My salutes to this master story teller.

And as for the bulk, of which I am a mute part, we can only read and say, "how true!!".

Enough - III : Enough of enough

2005-09-06T07:18:00.000+05:30

Actually in the last post I intended to express some thoughts about Sachin but it only went that much more in corroborating the self-centred content that my posts exhibit.

Good for him that he opted out of upcoming test series against Zimbabwe. I guess he wouldn't be playing the ICC Super Series either Talking about this series, I feel the one day squad is absolute junk. Why Gibbs and Pollock eh? And why Sachin at all! They are no way the best in business now. A deeper inquisition will reveal that its actually a tough task to build a World XI team without Australian players in it. What with the abyssmal show the Aussies have put up this Ashes, the World XI will still be far from being the best the cricketing history has seen, even if they are considered. For an aficianado like myself, its the right time for a hiatus from the game. With the TNT Cup around the corner, I'll be well advised to concentrate more on my personal cricketing skills (which has gone to dogs) than harp on mal-nourished cricketing talent elsewhere.

Back to what I was thinking. Ya, Sachin! Now here is one man, no, super-man,(he and I cant belong to the same species) who is just the antithesis of whatever my existence means. For lack of options, if some one asked me my role-model in the past, I would say Sachin. I never had one, but he came close to being one. Digression again : Funny na, the way these Miss World/Miss Universe contestants so glibly make Mother Teresa or Kiran Bedi or Wangari Maathai their role-models with not an iota of conviction in their words. Ok. I had my go at these !@#$% and I am relieved.

Back to Sachin. Statistics is on his side, but not age anymore. Sad. But what on earth is the force that drives him to accomplish anything further than what he already has!!?? And how or why is he motivated to be fighting fit as soon as possible and be back to his tormenting ways on the field? If I were him (at some novice stage in life I had wished so. Not anymore), I would be more than happy to concentrate the rest of my life on my culinary interests and take care of my children and wife. But our man still wants to make news. Making news, I guess, is just an outcome of his unfaltering craze and passion for the game.

Why am I not.. Certain questions are best left open. Better unanswered. Still better, unpondered over. Even better, not discussed any further. Enough of 'Enough'.

HELP!! WHERE AND HOW DO I EDIT COMMENTS??

Enough - II

2005-09-06T02:54:00.000+05:30

I was just browsing through Eminem's 8 Mile lyrics.

"..I'm a man, I'ma make a new plan
Time for me to just stand up, and travel new land
Time for me to just take matters into my own hands
Once I'm over these tracks man I'ma never look back
And I'm gone, I know right where I'm goin
Sorry momma I'm grown, I must travel alone
ain't gon' follow the footsteps I'm making my own.."

Reflects much of my own thoughts and words in the previous post, doesnt it? No wonder I'm such a great fan of Saint Eminem.

Enough - I

2005-09-02T20:11:00.000+05:30

If someday I were to be at the helm of affairs at TI India, my complacency would know no bounds. What else would be left to acheive in life eh? But even without getting any close to that position I already have a smug look so early in life. Somebody once said, "Wah Sameer babu! naya ghar, nayee gaadi, nayee biwi. Badiya hain!'(I still dont have the first one and the last, let it remain the last thing I develop interest in). And I will scream my throat out that I AM ENJOYING THIS.

Sometimes complacency helps. Especially when you desperately want to enjoy the NOW. When I was in 9th, people said (people who cared), one more year and then you can enjoy. So slog. After 10th, 2 more years and then you are the king. So slog again. Then undergraduation, 4 more years and life is yours. Continue slogging. Life will never be the same with a postgrad degree and a doctorate. So.. shut up! No more of this. I have drawn the line. There seems to be no limit to dreaming big. And everyone around me, except myself, seems to know when and where I am supposed to do what. Hello! I have seen almost a third of my life and its a miserable fact that I have only been 'existing' and not 'living'. Its high time I did something about this, now. My mom still feels sad that I'm here in B'lore earning a living and not elsewhere, doing a darned MS. Sorry mom, but I have taken control of my life.

I am happy with what I am and what I have. And I have my reasons to be that way. Say I do an MS (from my sis I have learnt, you dont 'do' an MS, you slog for one). What next. A PhD. OK. What next. Then a job in a leading semiconductor company. Then where am I now! I will stick to this Sprite funda. Atleast I'm in my home town now, but if I am to venture into any of those big contrived dreams, I will be stuck in one of Bush's addas at Dallas or Austin for life. Yuck! that is the last thing I would be interested in doing (the penultimate thing i.e. The last thing will still be getting a nayee biwi).

Right now, I'm more than happy to sit in the confines of my 5X5 cubicle and surf, chat, blog, read, listen to music, drink lemon tea, and at times, work and get paid. I believe this is a direct outcome of whatever I did and brooked for 8-9 consecutive years. Mabbe a training in music, a long journey with a good book as my sole journey mate will add some more spice to life, and this will soon happen. But I wont look for anything beyond this for the time being atleast. Call it lack of direction or motivation, but this is life royale and I'm living it king size.

I will quit cribbing

2005-09-01T19:28:00.000+05:30

They built the Golden Gate Bridge in under 3 years. Its been over 3 years now and the first few iron girders have just been laid for the Airport Road flyover. Speaks volumes about execution, the lack of it rather, doesnt it? Two state governments are involved here: namma Karnataka and UP(of all statees!!), with one trying to beat the other in all spheres of incompetence, ineffeciency, aimlessness and disorganisation.

Heard private-public partnership(PPP they call it) is in the air now. Be it water supply, road laying, airport building or any other public service project, both the central and many state govts seek private assistance and involvement. Technical assistance is understandable. But I am in a bit of a dark comprehending the financial aspect of it. Are governments really money-starved? If yes, then where does 30% of my hard earned money go (agreed I'm jobless these days, but my salary doesnt come easy nevertheless)? My money apart, isnt it just a matter of printing more notes and disbursing it for these projects? Why get into this seemingly pointless haggling on who gets what and how much from the investment? Has the government become more of a business organisation than a caretaker?

I will harp on the printing issue (more of a solution than issue) more. Its been troubling me for quite some time now. If money is at the center of all development issues and the govt has an ostensible shortage of funds, then why should it be a crime to print more currencies with the sole purpose of betterment of life? Nobody should object, atleast I wont.For one, I prophesy the principle of live and let live(I observe the Congress rulers are adept at this. You eat I eat and let people also enjoy). And why should anyone be against development? Some economics prof might lecture me on supply demand balance and all, but he hasnt seen the every evening plight on Airport Road that I have.

I sound silly but I'm earnestly pissed. If only things were to be as simple as i expect them to be, I would have been using The Flyover quite happily for more than a year now. But there is no point playing the blame game here, is there? What I endure is what I mutely acquiesce. For all I do is crib and continue designing some vague mixed signal circuit for a cell phone and pray some fool would buy the same in the near future. My contribution to anything other than myself is zilch at best. And candidly I have no motivation or interest to go beyond this domain. So I would rather shut up and watch the show. And surreptitiously pray that someday TI moves its base to Vijayanagar.

Bangalored !! what the hell..

2005-08-30T09:43:00.000+05:30

I came across this word, albeit colloquial, in a forward late in the evening at office today. After some research I beamed at my discovery. After Shanghai, Bangalore is the only ‘real’ city name that can be used as a verb (some biblical city also holds this distinction). Whereas you could be shanghaied anywhere in the world, chances that you are bangalored in Bangalore, or for that matter, elsewhere in India, are remote. Essentially, if you are bangalored it means you have lost your means of bread and butter (else where somebody would crib his job has been shamelessly ‘snatched’) and some one in India has found his, and in all likelihood it would be in Bangalore. It could have been any city, somebody could have been mumbaied too but, being the silicon capital of India, this poor city has to bear the brunt of this ugly connotation.

Connotation aside, there are quite a few more serious and graver brunts this city has been hopelessly bearing as an outcome of some poor soul being bangalored in some diametrically opposite location. Among others, one such far from being delectable, humongously annoying and tear-inducing aftermath is .. “ TRAFFIC UPDATE on 91FM!! Very slow to no moving traffic reported on.. “. So that’s one ubiquitous but lethal pest that has inflicted itself on this once peaceful small city of Bangalore for quite some time now. And this pest is here to stay.

In hindsight I feel it was a wrong decision but I voluntarily took it. Sis moved to US and we moved back to Vijayanagar last week. That’s a whopping 20 km either ways from office (more on this decision later; another of the bangalored phenomenon fallout). And mine is one of those souls that sinned in the previous birth. I feel miserably nauseated in any vehicle that is closed to the outside world on all sides and doesn’t have an A/C. So any form of public transport, be it my office bus or the traffic hindering BMTC bus, is directly ruled out. One fine evening last week I dared to use the TI bus and the repercussions were disastrous. So I am left with two choices, my 4-wheeler or my 2-wheeler (Agreed I’m a fitness freak, but walking is not an option here!). After over 2,000,000m of driving it has dawned on me that driving a car demands a lot more concentration and presence of mind as compared to a mobike. And so it is my KARIZMA (125kmph top speed, haven’t tried it though; for reasons unknown, with all sincerity, some people prefer calling it carishma) that I have been using to traverse this distance every day. Today was the third day. And I HAVE ALREADY GIVEN UP!!!

For a biking enthusiast as myself, more the time spent on the vehicle the better the feeling. But in a dekho tho jaano kind of situation that exists on these B’lore roads, how could I miss out the all-crucial word ‘moving’ in the above sentence! Cubbon Road is like what, 1 km-1.5 km long? At my jogging speed I could have done 4 rounds up and down this road in an hour. But this fateful evening I was on this darned road from 6:41pm to 7:43pm with my stationary 223cc, 18 odd brake horsepower good for nothing show piece of a bike. How is that the traffic in the opposite direction always moves so smoothly? Or is it just a clever manifestation the eye conjures up to push the soul to the limits of sanity! I am known for my patient demeanor within family circles. But hello! This is insane! Thank God! None of them was around this evening. Some other day when I’m in better spirits I’ll retrospect, analyse and enjoy these traffic snarls. Now I’ll only crib crib and crib.. I am obsessed with the word doom. This is a city doomed to dereliction and despair. This is a doomed city. My dad calls it a dead city. And so it has become. Doomed as doomed can be. Never would any of the old time localites have imagined that the foremost boon this city is bestowed with, the weather, would one day spell doom on the very city. Doomed. Doomed.

Too much, too early

2005-08-26T03:40:00.000+05:30

That was The Hindu's front page article in Metro Plus yesterday on teenage pregnancies. Indeed Bangalore is on a fast track catching up with everything good or bad in the West. One such hardly delectable influence, so the author says, is the attitude of our teenagers towards casual sex.

Through out the write-up there has only been a mention of teenagers being unaware of the consequences of such a tempestuous act. But what exactly are the repurcussions? I know its not such moral an ast as just watching late night FTV, but still, if a surreptitious abortion is all that is to it, then why bother? That way I feel the article failed to impact the readers' mind by not being as open as it appeared to be.

Impact or otherwise, the 30 odd minutes after I read it, my mind rolled back into my teens and what I made of it. By teens I mean the dangerous 6teen-9teen span. More than anything, how I shaped, has been a direct outcome of the company I chose. As I sauntered down the memory lane, it really heartened my mind that my giLibantas (that is what my Dad calls my friends) have been the 'right' type always. Peer pressure at that age decides many of your decisive actions and thoughts and in my case it drove me in the progressive direction. Just picture this. I studied in a pre-university college which in its campus, housed undergrad students also, that included 'babes' of utmost quality. But my friends' circle was so concerted in its efforts to make a meaning outta life, that I had no other choice but to stay focussed too. Occassional bantering did exist, but collectively we were 'enlightened' souls, consciously aware of what was expected of us and what was not. The miniest of the mini skirts then, was as ogle-worthy as a bland salwar kameez that my maid's daughter used to wear, and I have no regrets for being so disinterested.

Frankly, teenage is just not the right age for any kinda 'committed' relationship with the opposite sex I feel. There lies an entire life ahead for this. 'If not know when?' .. is an obvious question that will arise, but being as 'single' as ever, I believe even 30 is a decent age ;-). Dunno where this is heading. I ll stop here.

Untitled

2005-08-25T03:00:00.000+05:30

On an otherwise boring and jobless day, (even my regular chat mate hasnt turned up today or looks like shez busy working) blog page browsing seems like fun. Was jus skimmin thru Skywalker's page, high profile Wimp's and a few other arbit pages. Someday I too wish to draw some jobless (read effecient ;-) ) readers and elicit response from them on my page. AMEN again!

Before that, I've gotta lay a game plan to extract rasa(juice) from kasa(garbage) as these guys do. Now dont tell me its pure talent:-(...

Déjà Vu

2005-08-24T23:08:00.000+05:30

Its been almost 2 yrs since I created the first of my n (>2) personal pages here. Tried all of these.. rediffblog, blogger, blog spot. And then nothing. All were created under similar circumstances of sheer joblessness, with a sudden outta-the-blue blogging impulse. Being a veteran at creating and 'hush'ing (sounds more power packed, this BITS' counterpart for IITM's 'pack' and REC's 'ditch') blog pages, this time I wont promise myself that this page will continue to exist. But I have seen a bit of the world in this past year. Maturity comes with experience and so does the sense of commitment. Commitment! yeeooow.. brings back ol' memories of the lone 'commitment' (in its traditional, dreaded by me, boy-gal relationship sense) that I failed to stand up to. Hmm.. no crying over spilt milk. Newaiz, back to blogging I am and hope this page marks the beginning of a long list of commitments expected from my side (gee.. isnt tht a smarter way of saying..'commitments that I have to make'??). AMEN!