Gray color is normally not many people's favorite color. Neither is it mine in normal circumstances. Yet I consider that color to be special in many ways.
Today I woke up to a gray morning. It had been raining since night and the dawn was very different from the usual day breaks. It was covered in the gray colored cloak of mist. My fascination for such weather is not unknown. Such days, which many people call 'Depressing', never fail to elevate my soul.
I am writing this sitting besides a window on the train to NY. Tiny rain drops are splashing the window glass and making beautiful music. Gray hills, gray woods, small gray houses and semi transparent gray fog. The lack of clarity makes trees at a distance look like small hills. As if the trees are pretending to be more mature like hills. Just like small kids would wear a fake mustaches and long coats to pretend to be an adult.
I am passing over the calm waters of a river. The fog seems to gel well with the surface the water. The river is so motionless that the fog seems to rest on the water. Calm and beautiful. I always quote Oscar Wilde when it comes to describing the magic of unclarity. He says clarity kills the fun. It ruins the beauty. A rose covered with mist is always more beautiful.
Imagine taking a walk on a morning which has bathed in the night rain. The streets are wet and that unique wet earth's smell fills the air. The fog wraps around everything. Acting like a comforter or a rug. Protecting you temporarily from the harsh world surrounding you. Would you rather take a walk on such a morning or on a morning brightly lit by the summer sun? I would rather prefer the cool beads of mist than sweat dripping off my forehead.
Gray is the color of uncertainty. Don't we say 'It looks gray to me'. And isn't it also true that such uncertainty makes life much more exciting and interesting? That's why gray holds a special place in the spectrum of colors in my opinion.
Now the gray color around me has vanished into the thin air and it is replaced by thick black color of darkness. The train has just entered the tunnel approaching NY Penn Station. It has indeed put a stop to the train of my thoughts now.
Signing off....
Gandalf
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Shadows
I was walking home on NJ streets tonight back from the NJ Transit station. My only companions were my shadows. Here the streets are well lit unlike some of the Tucson streets where there is hardly any light. The shadows were rising and falling as I moved away from one light and went closer to the next one. A consistent theme of rise and fall of shadows.
I felt that the shadow was like our own ego and the lights were like knowledge. As you move closer to the light, the shadow diminishes. Just like as you move closer to knowledge, the brilliance of knowledge lessens the ego and makes you more humble. The more you move away from light, the more the shadow grows and becomes menacingly tall. Just like you move away from knowledge, into the darkness of ignorance, and your ego starts to inflate and become bigger and fatter.
Let there be light. Let there be knowledge.
I felt that the shadow was like our own ego and the lights were like knowledge. As you move closer to the light, the shadow diminishes. Just like as you move closer to knowledge, the brilliance of knowledge lessens the ego and makes you more humble. The more you move away from light, the more the shadow grows and becomes menacingly tall. Just like you move away from knowledge, into the darkness of ignorance, and your ego starts to inflate and become bigger and fatter.
Let there be light. Let there be knowledge.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Atlantic City - A City of Pleasure
Niki, a friend of mine always says you should try new things and experience different worlds, other than your own. This time I thought, 'Not a bad idea!'. And thus I made up my mind to go to Atlantic City which I call A city of Pleasure.
It is about 100 miles from the place where I live in New Jersey. We started the drive at about 6 in the evening and were there by 8. We visited a few places in which prominent ones were Trump Taj Mahal, Balley's Casino and Kasbah Night Club.
Kasbah - The place where even the inanimate would spring to life and dance
This was my first experience in any kind of discotheque/nigh-club/dance-floor. My decision to go to this place in Atlantic City was partly out of curiosity and partly out of the fact that I had nothing else to do at night and nowhere to stay. So I decided to join the band-wagon and went to the place with my friends.
The moment I stepped into the place, I felt an acoustic attack on my ears by the loudest possible music playing on the dance floor. The whole place was dimly lit or not lit at all with dizzying lights flashing over my head. For those who are familiar with dance floors, this might be a usual setup for you but it was a first such real world experience for me as till now I had only seen such places in movies and on television. Initially the place was quite empty and not many people ventured to the center stage where the show was about to begin! There were 3-4 dance girls showing some amazing dance steps from their specially built stage.
As the hour hand of the clock neared 12-12.30, people started stepping into the dance floor with their dance partners or in groups and set the floor rocking by their steps and movements of their bodies. We were a group of boys and unfortunate enough not to have any dance partners. So after initial few minutes, I grew tired of dancing alone and took a seat at some distance from the floor and started observing people (Ofcourse from a journalistic point of view!!)
The place was oozing euphoria, like any dance club would do. People would get drunk, move away from reality for a few hours and dance till their feet ache. Here there is no sadness. If world was to comprise of such people, you would think that we have achieved eradication of sadness and problems from the society. Everyone is in a sheer bliss. The alcohol has taken over the mind. If not, it is the music which does that job with equal efficiency.
I wonder what energizes people and enables them to keep dancing for hours together. Is it the magic of alcohol? Or it is the magic of the atmosphere as a whole. Whether it is the head-banging beats of Linkin Park or wine like smooth hip-hop of Akon, the music sets the mood for dancing. Smiles all around. Laughs here and there. Corners filled with private meetings. Center stage filled with euphoric youth. Alcohol flowing everywhere. Is this heaven? Where people, at least temporarily, forget their problems and difficulties of life and shake their bodies to the beats of music.
I see people of every age, class and region of the world. Young ones who have just got a permission to enter this place as they have turned 21. More mature players who frequent clubs weekly or even more. Middle aged people who are still young at heart. People who come from the class of financially creamy. Salaried people who work for hours during the weekdays and earn a lot to spend during the weekends. People like me who are there for no good reason. Asians, Americans, Chinese and others.
Every person has a story behind him. An Indian couple where the lady is extremely uncomfortable with this whole concept and is there just because the cosmopolitan husband asked her to come there. A Mexican couple where the lady is very enthusiastic and dancing with amazing grace but the husband has absolutely no interest in the activity. A group of young girls who have drunk to the limits and are posing for photographs in not-so-decent poses. There are heavily built security personnel who are dressed in absolute black with ear phones and wireless instruments with them. Their job, to keep the trouble makers out. I witnessed one such ugly incident of one person going out of control and 6-7 such security personnel grabbed the man and threw him out of the club. The main attraction was a 4.5 feet tall chinese/nepalese fellow of age at least more than 50 who danced like a pro and was immediately adored by the girls!
People somehow love to move away from reality and lose self control. Getting high is fashionable and fun. One fellow was not even able to stand on his feet when he entered the place. I am sure he will be the one taking least effort to dance. His brain cells are going haywire anyway! He will just dance to the tunes of stars in front of his eyes.
Along with pleasure, there is beauty every where here. Where ever you turn your head, you will see personification of beauty. Beautiful girls in black dresses. Handsome young men in party coats. Even if you have not been blessed by the nature with a beautiful face, the cosmetics will do the job. America has everything to offer to everyone. Weight control pills for the horizontally challenged, body building capsules for the weak, tonnes of make up chemicals for not-so-beautiful people and so on. You have to name it and America will give it to you.
Finally at about 3 o'clock at night, we came out of the Kasbah. Moving from sheer ecstasy to the real world. My friends who danced to the most of their capacity stuttered with their legs shaky, head jittery and ears playing the tunes of violin. Though my body did not have to go through what theirs had to while dancing, my ears were definitely ringing. They had grown comfortable in that loud noise burst. They were demanding for more. Like a drug addict would demand for his stuff.
Late night errands for finding a room to stay
When we came out of the club finally, it was almost 3.30 at night. It was a big mistake not to pay attention to the need of booking a room earlier. Therefore the victims of our own foolishness, there we were, wandering on strange and unsafe streets of Atlantic City at the darkest hours!
All the places had 'No Vacancy' boards put up outside. The car was also parked at a far distance and thus we kept on walking. The streets and alleys were full of loafer type guys and girls. Many of them high on something much more powerful than alcohol. Men gathered around nude dance clubs. People stoned and lying on footpath. A girl comes to us and offers a room and tries to make 'an indecent proposal' too. We swiftly move ahead and luckily spotted a motel which looked pretty decent. The guy at the reception was an Indian. Initially quite stubborn, he finally gave in and agreed to give us a two-bed room. Finally the hunt ended and we slumped on beds and without realizing, drifted to sleep in a moment.
Bally's Casino - Try your luck, but I will make sure you never win
The wise have said. An average man never walks out of a casino with more money than he entered. Chances of coming out with same amount of money are as slim. We entered this Bally's casino. What we see defies imagination. Extravagantly ornate halls. Multitudes of Slot machines. Hundreds of tables of Poker, Blackjack, Roulette and Wheel of Fortune and so on. We see happy faces and sad faces. Some tables have roars of the victorious. Some have low moans of the loser.Gambling is an art. It's not about how well you play. It's about when you stop playing. Because in the long run, almost everyone ends up losing. One friend who was with us had a very nice explanation. It's very simple. The more you risk the more your chances of winning big. The casinos have unlimited supply of money. We do not. They are willing to risk what we can not even imagine. Therefore if you continue to play at some table, even if you are riding high on your luck initially, you will end up losing at some point of time. And that blow will be a lot heavier than what you have earned.
I didn't want to try anything heavy. I have full confidence on my luck. It does not click when expected. Thus I tried something simple and with low bets. I put my money on Wheel of Fortune. It follows the 'Bell curve'. My money grows, reaches highest point and I start loosing. The bell curve is not satisfied at touching the horizontal axes. It dips even further. I lose all my money. Plain and simple rule. You win, win, win and lose everything. I am glad I restricted myself to a very small amount and considered it not as a gamble but more like a game fee. (I know it is euphemism! But it doesn't pain much to say you paid entry fee for some game as it does to say you lost in gambling.) I also tried my hand with a few dollars at a game called Keno. We Indians call it Housey. The numbers which claimed to be my friends, all my lucky numbers turned hostile and I lost money there too. My loss of 17 dollars in total looked minuscule in comparison to other guys who lost in three figure numbers.
The run to hunt down luck ended in a while and we finally exited the casino before further damage to our pockets.
I can't help become a little philosophical at the end. Why don't people ever think that a 25 dollar minimum bet at Roulette can buy a day's meal for a hungry family. A 100 dollar bet on a Poker table can save someone's life in an emergency room. There are people who have more than they can spend. There are people on the other extreme of the economical spectrum who can hardly save for their second meal of the day. But honestly I also didn't have this conscientious thought while I put my money on a wheel of fortune. Can I blame other people? Aren't we all the same?
P.S.
I have not taken any of these photographs. And they are just here to visually enhance my post!
[Image sources:
http://www.my-discount-hotels.com/images/cheap-atlantic-city-hotel-discount-deals1.jpg
http://www.atlantic-city-casino.com/atlantic-city-casinos-hotels-2.jpg
http://www.miami-realestate.net/images/listing_photos/21_nightclub.jpg
http://www.achotelexperts.com/photos/casinos/ballys/image6.jpg
http://www.theatlanticcitycasinos.com/ballylob.jpg
]
Friday, June 01, 2007
An eventful day
Yesterday was a little better than usual days in terms of feeding me some excitement and momentary stimulus of adrenalin.
It was a little incident on the train which became one of the marking events of the day. I was traveling from NJ to NY as usual on NJ Transit train. And as usual the stations passed one by one. All of a sudden, while the train had stopped on one of the stations, there was some disturbance and movement in the passageway between cabins. And in the blink of an eye, some 4-5 cops entered the cabin from both the doors and shouted at us to get out of the train right then. I could not figure out what the situation was but no sooner had the cops entered than we got down the train and luckily there was another train on the other end of the platform which we could take and safely reach NY. Some action to start the day with!
In the evening, I had my team dinner which was at a steakhouse. One of my team members had organized the event and he was feeling quite uncomfortable when I told him that I do not even eat eggs. He specially asked the hotel manager to arrange for some vegetarian dish for me. We reached there and the restaurant was a very posh setup on 46th street of downtown New York.
The menu had only two types of items mainly. 2 pages full of wine varieties. And one page full of beef varieties. The price range of wine was astonishing and was suitable to people from most varied financial backgrounds. The range started from somewhere around $40 a bottle to the maximum which I could locate - $2000 a bottle. Such luxury and class.
My stubborn intolerance and dislike for alcoholic beverages prevented me from tasting the delicious looking drink which was smoothly making its way from the bottle to the glasses like a creek of divine liquid. Enticing and luscious.
And that 'special' vegetarian food item which was brought to me is beyond description. It was a mixture of various vegetables, some hardly recognizable by an average Indian, all of them in their most raw forms.
The funniest looked potatoes. It was called mashed potatoes. And the item was made out of one potato. Without exaggeration, it was literally plain boiled potato, and that too with the skin intact. Without any alternatives, I tried to eat something called asparagus and broccoli. The other half of the plate had mushrooms which I dislike from the bottom of my heart, spinach leaves and a few unknown (wild looking) vegetables.
Somebody had ordered a dish called creamed spinach. It did taste like the curry of our own Paalak Paneer. But by the time it had arrived on our table, I had lost all the enthusiasm to try anything at all. Thus I just had a spoon to make that fellow feel good who had organized this party.
The bill per head was around $150 dollars. I can state with confidence that this is the most expensive place I have eaten at. Or attempted to eat!
While returning it was quite late and people say it is not very safe to travel late in NY subway trains. I took my usual train from 53rd street to Pennsylvania station NY. There were not many people on the train. And once again I found myself in similar but much less thrilling situation like morning. Again the train stopped at a station and I heard the announcement that the train I was on will stop at the next station so whoever wanted to go to Penn Station, would have to change the train from that station. Once again people got down and we had to wait on a very threateningly quiet, small and dingy subway station. Finally I reached home at about 9.30 or so at night and it was the end to a 'not so normal' day.
It was a little incident on the train which became one of the marking events of the day. I was traveling from NJ to NY as usual on NJ Transit train. And as usual the stations passed one by one. All of a sudden, while the train had stopped on one of the stations, there was some disturbance and movement in the passageway between cabins. And in the blink of an eye, some 4-5 cops entered the cabin from both the doors and shouted at us to get out of the train right then. I could not figure out what the situation was but no sooner had the cops entered than we got down the train and luckily there was another train on the other end of the platform which we could take and safely reach NY. Some action to start the day with!
In the evening, I had my team dinner which was at a steakhouse. One of my team members had organized the event and he was feeling quite uncomfortable when I told him that I do not even eat eggs. He specially asked the hotel manager to arrange for some vegetarian dish for me. We reached there and the restaurant was a very posh setup on 46th street of downtown New York.
The menu had only two types of items mainly. 2 pages full of wine varieties. And one page full of beef varieties. The price range of wine was astonishing and was suitable to people from most varied financial backgrounds. The range started from somewhere around $40 a bottle to the maximum which I could locate - $2000 a bottle. Such luxury and class.
My stubborn intolerance and dislike for alcoholic beverages prevented me from tasting the delicious looking drink which was smoothly making its way from the bottle to the glasses like a creek of divine liquid. Enticing and luscious.
And that 'special' vegetarian food item which was brought to me is beyond description. It was a mixture of various vegetables, some hardly recognizable by an average Indian, all of them in their most raw forms.
The funniest looked potatoes. It was called mashed potatoes. And the item was made out of one potato. Without exaggeration, it was literally plain boiled potato, and that too with the skin intact. Without any alternatives, I tried to eat something called asparagus and broccoli. The other half of the plate had mushrooms which I dislike from the bottom of my heart, spinach leaves and a few unknown (wild looking) vegetables.
Somebody had ordered a dish called creamed spinach. It did taste like the curry of our own Paalak Paneer. But by the time it had arrived on our table, I had lost all the enthusiasm to try anything at all. Thus I just had a spoon to make that fellow feel good who had organized this party.
The bill per head was around $150 dollars. I can state with confidence that this is the most expensive place I have eaten at. Or attempted to eat!
While returning it was quite late and people say it is not very safe to travel late in NY subway trains. I took my usual train from 53rd street to Pennsylvania station NY. There were not many people on the train. And once again I found myself in similar but much less thrilling situation like morning. Again the train stopped at a station and I heard the announcement that the train I was on will stop at the next station so whoever wanted to go to Penn Station, would have to change the train from that station. Once again people got down and we had to wait on a very threateningly quiet, small and dingy subway station. Finally I reached home at about 9.30 or so at night and it was the end to a 'not so normal' day.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Questions
You take one step towards future from the present and several things happen. Your present becomes past. The fears of change and future are allayed. The mind is filled with excitement and heart is filled with new memories of something which has just morphed into being the past from present.
Why is it that you always long to go back in time and live the days of past again. When you are in college, you always long to go back to school days. Suddenly the prayer halls which you never liked to attend while you were in school start looking charming, lovely and innocent. Why is it that the school teachers whose lectures were terribly boring, you start missing them? The chirping of students around in the class, playground all looks very rosy and distant.
I miss my school days most. Whenever I try to remember my college days, I never have many memories. It's always studying on those lawns, or those haunting lab assignments or one or two events that I had participated in. But they are all there because they are part of my past. Not because they are special to me. I never feel that thrill or long to re-live them.
And I have this question today that why is it that most of the times you think that you were much happier in the past. You always say 'Good Old Days'. Have you ever heard someone saying 'Good Present Days'? Sounds odd, doesn't it?
The event that instigated this question in my mind is that suddenly I realized, I wanted to go back to UofA! It's been just five days in the industry and I miss a hundred things already from my grad school days. I want to get up at 10 in the morning like old days. I want to be able to go to sleep at 3 at night. I want to go to library in shorts. All of a sudden the formal clothes start feeling clumsy on my body. I would rather go back to my attire of jeans and a T. This really amazes me because I have always loved wearing formal clothes. May be the reason is because I have to press them before wearing and it's such a laborious task.
The most annoying thing in the present is to have to shave alternate days. There was a time during grad school when I used to shave once in a week and could afford that unkempt look. An old T with worn out jeans and carelessly parted hair and grown facial hair. This was the look not very unfamiliar to me in those days.
It is really marvelous to think about this! I could never imagine that I would recall my days at UofA and even more I would even long to re-live them! This really astonishes me.
Is it that we never appreciate the beauty of present because we are too busy dealing with our day to day lives. We are afraid of the future. But when the present becomes past, we are carefree. Because it is never going to affect our lives. Those days, places, events are all past. You don't have to worry about them now. Whereas the present, it is still there. The actions we take are going to decide the future. They are going to make an impact on our tomorrows. That's why we are always very cautious and worrying about what will happen next if I do this or that.
Only if we had the powers to know the future, we might be able to appreciate the beauty of present.
Why is it that you always long to go back in time and live the days of past again. When you are in college, you always long to go back to school days. Suddenly the prayer halls which you never liked to attend while you were in school start looking charming, lovely and innocent. Why is it that the school teachers whose lectures were terribly boring, you start missing them? The chirping of students around in the class, playground all looks very rosy and distant.
I miss my school days most. Whenever I try to remember my college days, I never have many memories. It's always studying on those lawns, or those haunting lab assignments or one or two events that I had participated in. But they are all there because they are part of my past. Not because they are special to me. I never feel that thrill or long to re-live them.
And I have this question today that why is it that most of the times you think that you were much happier in the past. You always say 'Good Old Days'. Have you ever heard someone saying 'Good Present Days'? Sounds odd, doesn't it?
The event that instigated this question in my mind is that suddenly I realized, I wanted to go back to UofA! It's been just five days in the industry and I miss a hundred things already from my grad school days. I want to get up at 10 in the morning like old days. I want to be able to go to sleep at 3 at night. I want to go to library in shorts. All of a sudden the formal clothes start feeling clumsy on my body. I would rather go back to my attire of jeans and a T. This really amazes me because I have always loved wearing formal clothes. May be the reason is because I have to press them before wearing and it's such a laborious task.
The most annoying thing in the present is to have to shave alternate days. There was a time during grad school when I used to shave once in a week and could afford that unkempt look. An old T with worn out jeans and carelessly parted hair and grown facial hair. This was the look not very unfamiliar to me in those days.
It is really marvelous to think about this! I could never imagine that I would recall my days at UofA and even more I would even long to re-live them! This really astonishes me.
Is it that we never appreciate the beauty of present because we are too busy dealing with our day to day lives. We are afraid of the future. But when the present becomes past, we are carefree. Because it is never going to affect our lives. Those days, places, events are all past. You don't have to worry about them now. Whereas the present, it is still there. The actions we take are going to decide the future. They are going to make an impact on our tomorrows. That's why we are always very cautious and worrying about what will happen next if I do this or that.
Only if we had the powers to know the future, we might be able to appreciate the beauty of present.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Observations
I've been commuting between NJ and NY for four days now. It's been a very interesting experience! Will jot down some observations.
1. People never rush in and out of trains or on the platform. No matter how crowded the platform is and no matter how quick the train takes off, people will never rush or push aside others. Extremely patient, tolerant and considerate of others. Something of blaring contrast with Indian mentality.
2. Two guys never sit together in the trains even if they know each other well. If you are a man, sitting close to another man is looked upon as suspiciously gay behavior. I have been observing people on the trains. I never saw two guys sitting on a 2-person seat. And when they sit on a 3-person seat, they sit on far corners, trying to maintain as much distance as possible.
3. On the escalators, 2 people can stand side by side like all escalators. But interesting thing is that the left queue always moves. That is if you want to stand on the escalator, you are supposed to stand on the right side. If you want to climb up or down, you are supposed to be on the left queue.
4. On the NJ Transit (NJ to NY) the ticket checker comes to every seat, takes the ticket from you and places a chit (A colored strip of paper with some numbers written on it) with a punch hole on the head of the seat in front of you. There is a leather pocket on the seat in which they slip this piece of paper. And when your destination station is about to come, they come and take this chit back.
5. You can buy ticket on the train also but you need cash. I had a bad experience when I was carrying the pass but the pass was of next month and the conductor said you will have to buy ticket as this pass is not valid in this month. I had to get down at the next station. I did so even if the conductor didn't ask me to. Plain old ego! Lesson learned: Always keep your eyes open, inspect the things you buy and carry some cash in your pocket always.
6. NY people have complete disregard for walk signs on the road. They act just like we do in India. They will look at both the sides for coming vehicles and if there is no vehicle till a reasonable distance, they will cross the street even if the walk-sign is off. How I love this spirit :P
7. Within Bloomberg, the free food is consumed in same quantity as it would have been in India somewhere. People here in US do not feel embarrassed about free food. Even in my school, I hear people mentioning free food every now and then. In the school, we have this custom of having cookies, coffee etc on every special lecture organized by the department every week. And the subject line of the email always reads 'Free food now on the 9th floor atrium !'.
8. Bloomberg has TV screens here and there in the office space. Recently they are showing the photographs of new hires. It was fun to see my photo being displayed across all the floors of the office :)
1. People never rush in and out of trains or on the platform. No matter how crowded the platform is and no matter how quick the train takes off, people will never rush or push aside others. Extremely patient, tolerant and considerate of others. Something of blaring contrast with Indian mentality.
2. Two guys never sit together in the trains even if they know each other well. If you are a man, sitting close to another man is looked upon as suspiciously gay behavior. I have been observing people on the trains. I never saw two guys sitting on a 2-person seat. And when they sit on a 3-person seat, they sit on far corners, trying to maintain as much distance as possible.
3. On the escalators, 2 people can stand side by side like all escalators. But interesting thing is that the left queue always moves. That is if you want to stand on the escalator, you are supposed to stand on the right side. If you want to climb up or down, you are supposed to be on the left queue.
4. On the NJ Transit (NJ to NY) the ticket checker comes to every seat, takes the ticket from you and places a chit (A colored strip of paper with some numbers written on it) with a punch hole on the head of the seat in front of you. There is a leather pocket on the seat in which they slip this piece of paper. And when your destination station is about to come, they come and take this chit back.
5. You can buy ticket on the train also but you need cash. I had a bad experience when I was carrying the pass but the pass was of next month and the conductor said you will have to buy ticket as this pass is not valid in this month. I had to get down at the next station. I did so even if the conductor didn't ask me to. Plain old ego! Lesson learned: Always keep your eyes open, inspect the things you buy and carry some cash in your pocket always.
6. NY people have complete disregard for walk signs on the road. They act just like we do in India. They will look at both the sides for coming vehicles and if there is no vehicle till a reasonable distance, they will cross the street even if the walk-sign is off. How I love this spirit :P
7. Within Bloomberg, the free food is consumed in same quantity as it would have been in India somewhere. People here in US do not feel embarrassed about free food. Even in my school, I hear people mentioning free food every now and then. In the school, we have this custom of having cookies, coffee etc on every special lecture organized by the department every week. And the subject line of the email always reads 'Free food now on the 9th floor atrium !'.
8. Bloomberg has TV screens here and there in the office space. Recently they are showing the photographs of new hires. It was fun to see my photo being displayed across all the floors of the office :)
Monday, May 21, 2007
First day at Bloomberg
Today was the day I would not say I had been waiting for very eagerly, but certainly the day which holds significant importance in my career and my professional life. It was my first day at Bloomberg LP, as my internship commenced today.
I had already visited the place yesterday as part of 'net practice' and so I was quite familiar with the system of the local trains here. I live in Iselin in New Jersey state which is about 30 miles from Manhattan, where my workplace is. So the way I commute is I take a train from New Jersey to New York, Penn Station. And from there I take a local train (NY Subway) to reach office. This total takes about 1 hour and 15 minutes.
It is just like commuting in Mumbai. The fight to beat the morning rush, mechanically boarding the trains, switching the trains, reading on board to kill an hour of commuting and finally reaching the office in time. Or rather before time.
The Bloomberg LP building is one of the most impressive and massive structures on Lexington Ave. which is the heart of Manhattan, NY. The building is an architectural marvel. It is built in the shape of a hoarse shoe. And the complete structure has glassed outer surface and the exterior walls are slanting, giving it a very creative and modern look.
The training program started right on time at 8 in the morning. There were about 30 other people starting the internship in the same batch. We were given the schedule and on the first look itself we realized that it was going to be a hectic day. The composition of the batch was really impressive. People from UC Berkeley, CMU and other giants formed the part of group which was really cool. It felt good to be working with people from such places. The places which are like pillars of computer science field.
The workspace is really cool. With all the free food and drink stuff like cookies, chips, juices, cold drinks, coffee and so on. Everywhere you go in the building, you will encounter Bloomberg TV and Bloomberg Radio. To the extent that even in the restrooms they have kept TV screens which show Bloomberg TV. All the walls in the office building are made up of glass which they say signifies Bloomberg's open and transparent policy.
The Bloomberg has specialized computers which they call Bloomberg Terminal. They have two monitors which are connected with each other and you can seamlessly work on both with just one mouse. This was my first experience with such terminals! It was fun though. The keyboard are also tailored to the Bloomberg Software.
The training was more or less boring except for the last part which was Introduction to the Basics of Finance. It was by a very cool fellow who taught us as if he was teaching first day class in some MBA school. At the end of the day we were given two free books, one 'Bloomberg by Bloomberg by Mike Bloomberg' and another by that finance guy about basics of finance.
I learned new lesson today about Metro trains that once you swipe your Metro pass, you can not reuse it for another 18 minutes ! I made a goof up of coming out of the exit door immediately after entering and then I tried to re-enter. The gate got locked and the security personnel told me that this is how it works. It blocks for 18 minutes after one use! Crazy american customs!
The difference between NY commuting and Mumbai commuting is huge. Mainly in terms of facilities and infrastructure. Here also you will encounter multitudes of people. All busy and rushing. Ofcourse the number is not comparable in absolute terms with the number of people traveling in Mumbai locals. But the trains are a lot cleaner. They have a/c which goes without saying. And you can easily stand if you don't get to sit. The timing and punctuality of trains is definitely same. Here I can't say NY has and edge over Mumbai as Mumbai locals are also very efficient and punctual. It's just that in Mumbai, the unmanageable number of people turn the whole local commuting into a frenzied walk through a pandemonium.
It so happened that I started reading the book 'Maximum City - Bombai Lost and Found by Suketu Mehta' and couldn't keep myself from comparing the two Cities. The jewel in the crown. Mumbai in India and NY in USA.
The cities which appear to be extremely charming from outside but are hollow from within. The pockets filled with money, mind filled with worries and hearts empty of emotions. Everyone is in the race to outsmart others. The corner cabin in office, a brand new car, branded suit and tie. Status, money and lifestyle. All at the expense of peace of mind. But who cares about peace of mind anyway? All that matters in this rat race is money.
Life is too short. You have to act quick. That goes in harmony with the lifestyle of NY and Mumbai. That's where I would love to belong. People say you wear out after a few years in NY and Mumbai. I say to them, let me have that too. I will feel it myself and then decide whether it is true or not. Let's see how my dreams are fulfilled. Let's see after these three months, where destiny takes me when next year I look forward to start my full time employment.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Down memory lane - First few days in Tucson
It's been almost a month. I have been underground totally. Partly because I did not have time for thinking and writing anything due to my exams. And partly because I actually did not have anything to write about.
Now I am back. I hit upon some writings that I did about 8-9 months ago. It's about my experiences in Tucson and UofA during very initial days. This post will look a little anachronistic but I thought it would be fun to keep it here.
Enjoy ! (If at all anybody is bothering to read my blogs. Of which I am highly skeptical.)
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September 06, 2006
It is a new life out here. Everything has changed around me and here I am typing my story in Tucson during the last one month.
I finished one month in Tucson. And it has been an eventful journey. It is the beginning of a new life. The life of a graduate student and in a broader sense, the life of an independent human being.
I remember landing here one month ago. It was a calm night atTucson airport which I have realized now to be a typical characteristics of all Tucson
I was standing at the baggage claim and it was the area for some other airline. As such I am quite used to standing for baggage claim for long time because it has always been the case that my baggage takes the maximum possible time. My bags usually enjoy that ride on the luggage belt and that is why I suppose they take long time to come out to me. But this time it was different! As I said, I was standing at the wrong place. And I realized that after almost 15-20 minutes. Having realized that, I went to the actual claim place then and took the bags. Then a bigger problem was facing me.
I could not locate any free trolley to put my luggage on and the trolleys required some coins, I don't remember how many quarters. I did not have the change and thus could not get the trolleys. I was wondering how I would drag the bags away from the claim space. And if this was not enough, I could not locate Somu – the person who was supposed to come and pick me up. I waited for him for 10-15 minutes and was wondering if I should make a call. But again the problem was I did not have coins to operate the public telephone. I realized that it was a grave mistake not to carry change, especially quarters.
Luckily, I spotted him in some time and he was with another guy named Mohan who was the one with a car. So we started towards my first destination. The name of the place isUniversity Gardens
I reached there and saw a flood of people already gathered. All unknown faces. Most uncomfortable situation for me! It is always difficult for me to mix with the people seamlessly in initial meetings and more difficult thing is to remember people’s names and faces after having met them once. So I was sitting there without speaking much when Karthik came forward and started talking with me. And it was the start of a new friendship for me. As I look back over the past one month, I feel that we have been very good friends now.
Now I am back. I hit upon some writings that I did about 8-9 months ago. It's about my experiences in Tucson and UofA during very initial days. This post will look a little anachronistic but I thought it would be fun to keep it here.
Enjoy ! (If at all anybody is bothering to read my blogs. Of which I am highly skeptical.)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
September 06, 2006
It is a new life out here. Everything has changed around me and here I am typing my story in Tucson during the last one month.
I finished one month in Tucson. And it has been an eventful journey. It is the beginning of a new life. The life of a graduate student and in a broader sense, the life of an independent human being.
I remember landing here one month ago. It was a calm night at
I was standing at the baggage claim and it was the area for some other airline. As such I am quite used to standing for baggage claim for long time because it has always been the case that my baggage takes the maximum possible time. My bags usually enjoy that ride on the luggage belt and that is why I suppose they take long time to come out to me. But this time it was different! As I said, I was standing at the wrong place. And I realized that after almost 15-20 minutes. Having realized that, I went to the actual claim place then and took the bags. Then a bigger problem was facing me.
I could not locate any free trolley to put my luggage on and the trolleys required some coins, I don't remember how many quarters. I did not have the change and thus could not get the trolleys. I was wondering how I would drag the bags away from the claim space. And if this was not enough, I could not locate Somu – the person who was supposed to come and pick me up. I waited for him for 10-15 minutes and was wondering if I should make a call. But again the problem was I did not have coins to operate the public telephone. I realized that it was a grave mistake not to carry change, especially quarters.
Luckily, I spotted him in some time and he was with another guy named Mohan who was the one with a car. So we started towards my first destination. The name of the place is
I reached there and saw a flood of people already gathered. All unknown faces. Most uncomfortable situation for me! It is always difficult for me to mix with the people seamlessly in initial meetings and more difficult thing is to remember people’s names and faces after having met them once. So I was sitting there without speaking much when Karthik came forward and started talking with me. And it was the start of a new friendship for me. As I look back over the past one month, I feel that we have been very good friends now.
Then some seniors tried to start the mock ragging but could not convert it to a full scale ragging and thus we were saved a lot of unnecessary stupidity. I escaped further boredom by making an excuse that the flight was tiresome and I needed sleep.
The first morning in 
The apartment looked beautiful even when it was unfurnished at the time we saw it first. It is Ground floor – First floor type of structure. The kitchen and sitting room are on ground floor and the bedroom is on the first floor. It is built in 1950s and is a pretty old type. We have trees in front of the house, tea-tables and swimming pool. It is an ideal quiet place to live in. It included all the amenities like air conditioning, heating, gas, microwave oven, and furniture etc. And the biggest plus point of the place is the free wireless internet! We have been using that heavily since the day we came.
Continued ......
Next few days
Thus after looking at the house, we agreed to sign the lease for a year. The contract is $475 per month and early vacating would result in penalty of $900. The contract would cover furnishing including microwave. After finishing the formalities we went to do the shopping! After all it was like setting up a new home! This was the first such experience for me as I have never been in a hostel.
I remember buying things like dust-bin, pillows, broom, cleaner, detergent powder, oil and what not! I would not say that the experience was exciting because it really was not! But anyway, it had to be done. Gone were the days when I used to enjoy the freedom from going to any grocery store or a mall back in
The memorable experience on the first day in the new house was messing up with air conditioner. I tried to lower the temperature in the AC and it did not like to take orders from its new master. Thus it straightway refused to operate. And there we were. Left in the heat at night. But luckily the there is a fan in the sitting room. So I brought my bed from the bedroom and set it up under the fan.
The responsibilities were many during initial days. Many formalities had to be completed. I remember I had to submit some documents at the college, open a new bank account, apply for electricity transfer on our name, get the keys to our post box, activate the gas connection and many other things. These were my first lessons of an independent life. A unique experience was at post office. We went to that place and did not know what to do. Because there were some numbers being put up on the board and we did not know whether we had to get a number from somewhere. I remember asking an American gentleman and he was kind enough to explain me the system of getting a number from a machine and waiting till the number is called.
I am very impressed by the system here. Most of the people enjoy their work and look happy. At least they look happy which is in sharp contrast from the situation back in
I remember my struggle to memorize the roads in and around the University. I am not legendary for my road sense anyway which I confess. The University is huge. It is about 1 square mile in area. And it is so wide that many busy streets pass from within the University area. It is a beautiful place. Full of trees and gardens and fountains. The buildings are very old fashioned with the tallest building being our own Computer Science department building. All the buildings are redbrick type. I have fallen in love with some places like Student Union which where I am sitting right now, writing this. They have benches under the trees where you can sit quietly and do your work. And added advantage is the wireless availability at this place. There are fountains around this place which make beautiful sound of water and reminds me of the days when I used to sit in my balcony back home listening to rain.
There are two libraries I visit often. Both have very nice places for studying. Isolated tables and chairs provide a refuge from the busy places of university. The place is full of multicultural people. I remember the first day of International orientation when every one was asked to identify oneself with the country. No wonder we Indians outnumbered every one else. Even
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It ended here. I think I had got tired of writing. I get bored of things pretty quickly and I am sure I was fed up of this too. So it ended abruptly here! But when I read it now, it feels nice to recollect some of these incidents.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Another day in paradise - Phil Collins
I know this song since I was a kid but today I watched the video and paid attention to the lyrics and they literally gave me goose bumps. The words are so true and sad. And the accompanying video makes it even more tragic. The song is about the poor and homeless in US. But it applies even more accurately to India. How many millions of people live life in real hell everyday. Compare their lives with ours and we realize that "It's just another day for you and me in paradise"
Lyrics:
She calls out to the man on the street
sir, can you help me?
Its cold and Ive nowhere to sleep,
Is there somewhere you can tell me?
He walks on, doesnt look back
He pretends he cant hear her
Starts to whistle as he crosses the street
Seems embarrassed to be there
Oh think twice, its another day for
You and me in paradise
Oh think twice, its just another day for you,
You and me in paradise
She calls out to the man on the street
He can see shes been crying
Shes got blisters on the soles of her feet
Cant walk but shes trying
Oh think twice...
Oh lord, is there nothing more anybody can do
Oh lord, there must be something you can say
You can tell from the lines on her face
You can see that shes been there
Probably been moved on from every place
cos she didnt fit in there
Oh think twice...
Thursday, April 19, 2007
The Devil Programmer
I am self proclaimed devil programmer now ! Look at the following error message which Valgrind (A memory checking tool for C programs) gave me while I was testing one of my programs on it.
==25161== More than 100000 total errors detected. I'm not reporting any more.
==25161== Final error counts will be inaccurate. Go fix your program!
==25161== Rerun with --error-limit=no to disable this cutoff. Note
==25161== that errors may occur in your program without prior warning from
==25161== Valgrind, because errors are no longer being displayed.
Valgrind is definitely not a very amicable tool ;) This message especially is quite hurting to a programmer's false ego !!
I mean can you imagine! Someone can actually write a program with 100000 errors in it ! I have just done it !!!
P.S.
I have yet to find the cause of these problems. I hope I can do that in this birth. Otherwise my soul will wander in eternity, searching for root causes of 100000 errors.
==25161== More than 100000 total errors detected. I'm not reporting any more.
==25161== Final error counts will be inaccurate. Go fix your program!
==25161== Rerun with --error-limit=no to disable this cutoff. Note
==25161== that errors may occur in your program without prior warning from
==25161== Valgrind, because errors are no longer being displayed.
Valgrind is definitely not a very amicable tool ;) This message especially is quite hurting to a programmer's false ego !!
I mean can you imagine! Someone can actually write a program with 100000 errors in it ! I have just done it !!!
P.S.
I have yet to find the cause of these problems. I hope I can do that in this birth. Otherwise my soul will wander in eternity, searching for root causes of 100000 errors.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Where are you my friend
One of my naive attempts at writing poetry. Dedicated to one of my best friends.
Where are you my friend
Those days we spent together
Unruffled by the world around
Surfing on the sea of friendship
Caring not for tomorrow to come
The days are gone and the time unknown
All look like a rusty book on a shelf
But it has the smell that haunts me
And I take the book and turn the pages
I see characters all colorful
Each one with a story to tell
All look distant but they are in my eyes
And I feel their beats when I hear my heart
And in one such story i see you
You and i and the beautiful world
The story is of love and friendship
I read it and my heart sings with joy
But the story ends without an end
The characters lost in the oblivion of time
Where are you my friend i am here
Stuck in a moment with you in mind
[Image Source:http://www.bergoiata.org/fe/landscapes2/Landscape%20-%20Green%20Corn%20Field.jpg]
Those days we spent together
Unruffled by the world around
Surfing on the sea of friendship
Caring not for tomorrow to come
The days are gone and the time unknown
All look like a rusty book on a shelf
But it has the smell that haunts me
And I take the book and turn the pages
I see characters all colorful
Each one with a story to tell
All look distant but they are in my eyes
And I feel their beats when I hear my heart
And in one such story i see you
You and i and the beautiful world
The story is of love and friendship
I read it and my heart sings with joy
But the story ends without an end
The characters lost in the oblivion of time
Where are you my friend i am here
Stuck in a moment with you in mind
[Image Source:http://www.bergoiata.org/fe/landscapes2/Landscape%20-%20Green%20Corn%20Field.jpg]
Monday, April 09, 2007
The Good Shepherd
When you sit on the edge of the chair in a movie which has no action, no ghosts, no romance or no thrill then it is the indicator of the fact that the movie is strongly gripping because of its acting, plot and characters.
Similar was the case with The Good Shepherd. Directed by the legendary Robert De Niro, the movie is story revolving around the life of a CIA agent. The plot has two timelines. One during the world war II and the one depicting the events during the political conspiracies in Cuba in early 1960s. It is not a movie which you would want to watch with a flippant mood, a pitcher of coke and popcorn. No, this movie is very serious and it keeps you literally on the edge of your chair.
Although the movie is slow paced, you would not want to miss any series of events in the movie because if you did, you will be cut off from the movie. I had tough time catching all the dialogues and also keeping up with unfolding of the seemingly disconnected events. But it all makes sense in the end when the director starts to put pieces together on the board.
The character of Edward Wilson played by Matt Damon is quite intriguing. His personality is shown to be extremely introvert. He is shown to sacrifice everything he loved for the sake of serving his country yet you will not hear any patriotic belaboring from him. He silently conveys his commitment and dedication to his country through his work. There are some brilliant dialogues in the movie. For example,
"Let me ask you something... we Italians, we got our families, and we got the church; the Irish they have the homeland, Jews their tradition;... What about you people, Mr. Wilson, what do you have?"
"The United States of America, the rest of you are just visiting."
This dialogue really hits you hard if you are also a 'visitor' of this country like me. But it shows the kind of spirit that an american national has for their home country. Only if we had shown this spirit to all the invaders of our nation, we would have been a different country today.
Angelina Jolie is wasted in the movie. And so is Robert De Niro himself. Matt Damon literally shadows all the other actors in the movie. This movie is definitely a defining role for his acting career.
Watch the movie if you really want to know the other side of CIA story.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Experience with filing tax return in US
I had a yet again new experience in US. I filed my Income Tax return today. In India, I never used to bother about such 'overheads' as I always used to rely on my father to handle such matters. But here, when I have to even handle things like cooking and cleaning and grocery on my own, this was not a surprise that I had to take care of this on my own.
Here there are two types of tax. One is state tax and one is federal tax. The federal tax has an online form which can be filled in easily and can be printed and posted to the IRS office in Austin, Texas. But the state tax has no such facility as online form. So we needed some guidance on that one. On a friend's recommendation we decided to go to a consulting place which gives guidance on tax matters for free. Yes, it was absolutely free! So, even in today's world, there is something called free service and free advice.
Now this place is about 2.6 miles from our place and the timing was 9 to 12 on Saturday morning. We decided to test the strength of our legs and decided to walk! We normally walk about 1.5 miles to the school from our place daily so we thought it would not be too much. And to reach early and avoid sitting in queue, we thought we would start early.
So here we were, woken up at about 7.15 on a Saturday morning, cursing the government for the complicated tax filing procedure, wondering why they could not do it online! We started at about 8.15 from our place and kept walking. And then when we were almost half way, my devilish mind started playing tricks on me. I had read that out of two such centers, one center is closed on a last Saturday of the March. And I started having doubts about whether it was this center or the other one! We tried to call the place on the way but no one was answering as it was still not 9. Karthik had made all the plans of beating me up if the place was closed!
We actually crossed down-town of Tucson and it was so surprising because we had a feeling that down town was pretty far. But when we were walking, it didn't feel that way. We finally reached there and to my relief, the center was open.
So this center is a place where 'not so wealthy' people of Tucson come for tax related guidance. And they have volunteers who work for free to help people out. I was really impressed by this kind of facility. It was totally a non-profit institute. Not only non-profit, but they actually didn't charge any thing. Neither did they expect any tips etc. I was taken to an old man who had retired from service and he was volunteering there. He was a very nice gentleman. As expected he hardly could use computer but he was trying his best! And at every step, he used to explain to me what those fields meant. And he said, next year when you come to this center, you will fill the form yourself and I will sit besides you and watch !
It took him long to complete all the forms but he did it very meticulously. And we were done before 10.30 or so. I had not expected it to be so smooth but it turned out to be a nice new experience. So now I am a tax-paying alien resident in this country! With this, I have three tax returns on my name. Two in India and one here!!
Here there are two types of tax. One is state tax and one is federal tax. The federal tax has an online form which can be filled in easily and can be printed and posted to the IRS office in Austin, Texas. But the state tax has no such facility as online form. So we needed some guidance on that one. On a friend's recommendation we decided to go to a consulting place which gives guidance on tax matters for free. Yes, it was absolutely free! So, even in today's world, there is something called free service and free advice.
Now this place is about 2.6 miles from our place and the timing was 9 to 12 on Saturday morning. We decided to test the strength of our legs and decided to walk! We normally walk about 1.5 miles to the school from our place daily so we thought it would not be too much. And to reach early and avoid sitting in queue, we thought we would start early.
So here we were, woken up at about 7.15 on a Saturday morning, cursing the government for the complicated tax filing procedure, wondering why they could not do it online! We started at about 8.15 from our place and kept walking. And then when we were almost half way, my devilish mind started playing tricks on me. I had read that out of two such centers, one center is closed on a last Saturday of the March. And I started having doubts about whether it was this center or the other one! We tried to call the place on the way but no one was answering as it was still not 9. Karthik had made all the plans of beating me up if the place was closed!
We actually crossed down-town of Tucson and it was so surprising because we had a feeling that down town was pretty far. But when we were walking, it didn't feel that way. We finally reached there and to my relief, the center was open.
So this center is a place where 'not so wealthy' people of Tucson come for tax related guidance. And they have volunteers who work for free to help people out. I was really impressed by this kind of facility. It was totally a non-profit institute. Not only non-profit, but they actually didn't charge any thing. Neither did they expect any tips etc. I was taken to an old man who had retired from service and he was volunteering there. He was a very nice gentleman. As expected he hardly could use computer but he was trying his best! And at every step, he used to explain to me what those fields meant. And he said, next year when you come to this center, you will fill the form yourself and I will sit besides you and watch !
It took him long to complete all the forms but he did it very meticulously. And we were done before 10.30 or so. I had not expected it to be so smooth but it turned out to be a nice new experience. So now I am a tax-paying alien resident in this country! With this, I have three tax returns on my name. Two in India and one here!!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
World Cup 07 - Time for introspection
"If a game starts taking lives, there is something sickeningly wrong with it". This statement by Sambit Bal, Cricinfo team pretty much sums up the events at this world cup so far. The most unfortunate event probably in the history of the game took place in the small and peaceful island of West Indies. Pakistani coach Bob Woolmer brutally murdered after a crashing exit of Pakistani team from the World Cup. Strangled to death. Most cold blooded murder one can think of.
This game has once again shown its ugly face. This game is like some black magic woman who is irresistible in guise but dangerous when it shows its real face. Probably we will never know the truth. Everyone is talking his own version of the story. Media is leaving no stone unturned to spice up the whole drama. Some version of the story says he was murdered because he was going to reveal some links with bookies. Some say it was a revenge for the defeat by some fanatic. Common sense suggests that whoever killed him, must have been someone he knew. Which leaves the needle of suspicion turned towards the players or the team management persons.
My fear is that the truth will never come out. The ICC is powerful and rich enough to damp the whole incident. At least till the world cup is over. They do not want any bad publicity. It is time for minting money. Human life is no more valuable for them. Many more Bobs can be sacrificed if need be. It's brutal world out there which tries to find profits even in the satchel of death.
India and Pakistan are known for their fanatic cricket followers. In one of the recent interviews, South African bowler Alan Donald said Indian and Pakistani cricket fans are fanatic. This is our impression. We are crazy for a game, so crazy that we can take lives. If that theory turns out to be correct.
The links between Cricket and Bookies-Underworld are not new. Asian bookies have had aegis of Underworld. And the theory that he was murdered because he was going to expose some of the cricketers and members of Pakistani team looks more reasonable to me. The typical Asian mafia are all too powerful and have riches and reaches as long as we can imagine.
Cricket is such an inseparable part of Indian life style. Before the world cup it looked as if the future of the whole country depended on Indian Cricket team. Big hoardings, television commercials, news sites like CNN-IBN, news papers and each and every communication medium had glorified the event as if those eleven players were fighting some war for their country. Some of the advertisements actually looked funny. And if you look at them now, they will look ludicrous and outrageous.
And now when team india has failed to even enter the second round, facing disgraceful defeat, we see fanaticism taking over the Indian cricket fans. Effigies are burnt, houses of cricketers are broken, emails full of dark humour about Indian cricket team are being circulate, funny SMSes deriding cricketers are in demand. What does this show? Gross immaturity! Why should it be so important in our lives? When India is playing, the whole country descends into motionless frenzy. Everyone is either at home, stuck in front of the tv set or huddled in a shop or a restaurant to cheer for the team. I simply do not understand how can we allow a game to take over daily routine of our life? How can it be so important? Why can't we give it a break? If we do that, automatically the Godly status of the cricketers will be stripped. They will be brought back to the mortal lives as players.
It is time to change our attitude towards the game. It is time for Indian cricket team to realize that they can not do whatever they want. They are answerable to the common man who spends hours watching them play. They are as responsible to the country as they are to their sponsors who feed millions of dollars to them. If they pay them dollars, it is we the commons men who have taken them to that level. If they forget us, we should remind them of that fact.
[Image Source: Cricket section of www.indiatimes.com]
Monday, March 26, 2007
Learning to Fly - Pink Floyd
I couldn't resist myself from posting this magical song here. Pink floyd at their one of the best.
Into the distance, a ribbon of black
Stretched to the point of no turning back
A flight of fancy on a windswept field
Standing alone my senses reeled
A fatal attraction holding me fast, how
Can I escape this irresistible grasp?
Cant keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, i
Ice is forming on the tips of my wings
Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything
No navigator to guide my way home
Unladened, empty and turned to stone
A soul in tension thats learning to fly
Condition grounded but determined to try
Cant keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, i
Friction lock - set.
Mixture - rich
Propellers - fully forward
Flaps - set - 10 degrees
Engine gauges and suction - check
Mixture set to maximum percent - recheck
Flight instruments...
Altimeters - check both
(garbled word) - on
Navigation lights - on
Strobes - on
(to tower): confirm 3-8-echo ready for departure
(tower): hello again, this is now 129.4
(to tower): 129.4. its to go.
(tower): you may commence your takeoff, winds over 10 knots.
(to tower): 3-8-echo
Easy on the brakes. take it easy. its gonna roll this time.
Just hand the power gradually, and it...
Above the planet on a wing and a prayer,
My grubby halo, a vapour trail in the empty air,
Across the clouds I see my shadow fly
Out of the corner of my watering eye
A dream unthreatened by the morning light
Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night
Theres no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, a state of bliss
Cant keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, i
Into the distance, a ribbon of black
Stretched to the point of no turning back
A flight of fancy on a windswept field
Standing alone my senses reeled
A fatal attraction holding me fast, how
Can I escape this irresistible grasp?
Cant keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, i
Ice is forming on the tips of my wings
Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything
No navigator to guide my way home
Unladened, empty and turned to stone
A soul in tension thats learning to fly
Condition grounded but determined to try
Cant keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, i
Friction lock - set.
Mixture - rich
Propellers - fully forward
Flaps - set - 10 degrees
Engine gauges and suction - check
Mixture set to maximum percent - recheck
Flight instruments...
Altimeters - check both
(garbled word) - on
Navigation lights - on
Strobes - on
(to tower): confirm 3-8-echo ready for departure
(tower): hello again, this is now 129.4
(to tower): 129.4. its to go.
(tower): you may commence your takeoff, winds over 10 knots.
(to tower): 3-8-echo
Easy on the brakes. take it easy. its gonna roll this time.
Just hand the power gradually, and it...
Above the planet on a wing and a prayer,
My grubby halo, a vapour trail in the empty air,
Across the clouds I see my shadow fly
Out of the corner of my watering eye
A dream unthreatened by the morning light
Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night
Theres no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, a state of bliss
Cant keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, i
Saturday, March 10, 2007
A Fine Balance - A novel by Rohinton Mistry
This novel is the most tragic reading I have ever had. Normally I prefer not to read tragic novels or watch tragic movies. Although they depict reality, my line of argument against them has always been that we read fiction or watch movie to escape the reality. To find a quiet nook under the shed of unreal world and feel the joy of detachment from reality. But breaking my notion about sad fiction work for this book and reading it full was worth every minute I spent on it. The book is written with immensely powerful words and the author narrates the story or rather weaves the story in a splendid fashion.
The story circles around four ordinary people whose lives have been interwoven in an extra ordinary way. It is set in the backdrop of one of the blackest era of Indian History after partition – the era of Emergency in early nineteen seventies. The story flows smoothly, unfolding mundane events in the lives of these people and then goes on to unraveling the darkest tragedies possible which happen in these people’s lives. With a single factor which interconnects them – the role of Government during the Emergency time.
The author takes you on a sad ride, giving you deep insight into the events surrounding the four characters. Takes you to the innermost crux of their personalities. And gradually ends the rollercoaster ride in what can be called a zenith of tragedy.
The story reveals the dark patches in the Indian history. Issues like caste based atrocities; unjustifiable obligations enforced upon women in the society; abominable corruption in every place which eats the society like cancer; irresponsible, unreasonable and loathsome personalities of politicians; crimes committed in the name of disciplining the public during Emergency era; the human-trade; hooliganism prevailing everywhere; killings in the name of religion; political revenge and so on. The list is long. And remembering every incidence which was an indirect evidence of one such of the list makes me more uncomfortable.
Without being explicit, the author successfully conveys his disapproval of the acts committed by the government during that time. With biting sarcasm he flays those who were responsible for the calamity and catastrophic conditions which prevailed at that time. Some of the one liners are really touching. In my personal view, he holds a place as high as Oscar Wilde, though the learned critics would disapprove of any such comparison.
Without going into the nitty-gritty of evaluating the author, I would recommend this book to those who like thought provoking serious reading. Take a dive into the dark, gloomy and grief world that Rohinton Mistry recreates from the pages of history into a fiction novel.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Dreams
I fear dreams. Not the dreams that I get at night. Though some of the dreams I get can certainly be called mild forms of nightmares. And I am quite used to it now. But here I am talking about the dreams one sees during the day. The dreams about our lives. Dreams of achieving something. Dreams of possessing ‘your precious’, the thing that you have always longed for, so dearly that the desire to have it starts to become a part of your life. Such dreams are dangerous. Not that they are not lovely. They always feel sweet and beautiful. When these dreams break, they leave behind a disgruntled and psychologically weakened soul.
You see pattern all around you. This behavior of fate is also like a pattern now. You dream. You work hard to achieve it. You inch forward in the direction of achieving it. It feels like it is just at the reach of your hand. You try to grab it and it disappears. Disillusioned, you are left behind.
How similar this looks to the phenomenon of bubbles. Forming in the water, growing and suddenly breaking into minute beads of water. Dreams breaking have much more lasting impact. The entire process passes through four phases. Formation, Growth, Break and Pain. Cycle repeating itself. Coming back full circle again.
As I mentioned in one of my previous posts, I take Life as a Drama on the stage of earth. God - Director of the Drama has scripted it so well and full of suspense, thrills and emotions that it actually looks more like a reel version than the real one. He entices us into dreaming. He nourishes this dream and makes us believe that it can turn into reality. And gullible us! We also start believing that. And then comes the ironical twist in the tale. The most beloved dream is hammered by a cruel blow of fate which you can’t dodge and is shattered into pieces. Leaving the dreamer distraught. Wondering what went wrong.
Wise people have always been saying, 'Never be afraid of dreaming big'. But few tell us how to react to situation when the dreams are shattered. Bertrand Russell is a wonderful raconteur. He makes us believe every word he says. He discusses handling such tormenting situations in his work 'Conquest of Happiness'. But much remains at the liberty and interpretation of the reader. And strength and determination of him.
How do I react to it? I take it as another game being played by destiny with me. I get angry, I fret, I whine and I complain to God. But then it gets over in some time. I realize that it is not that we should not complain because we are helpless. I think that we should not complain because we are here to fight against all odds. To emerge as winners. So, like a wounded tiger, I stand tall. Ready to battle against all hindrances. Take all the challenges at their face value. And show them the mettle and spirit of a fighter.
[Image Source: http://tn3-2.deviantart.com/fs11/300W/i/2006/255/6/c/it__s_dreams_that_binds_us_by_chimy_rainbow.jpg]
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Courage
Coincidences have a good affection with my life. They keep popping up from nowhere. I was standing at the street, waiting for the walk-sign to turn green and I thought how would a person who can not see cross the road if there is no voice instructions? I know at some crossroads, these aides are provided and the walk-sign has voice support for the blind people. But I was thinking it should be provided at every crossroad. Nevertheless I respect this country a lot for the provision they give to the physically challenged. Parking lots, crossroads, elevators, and every other place which requires special attention to the disabled, this country has provided for it.
My purpose of this post is not to praise US government or US society for what they do. I will come to the point where I started.
Coincidentally, the moment I crossed the road and walked a few steps, I saw a small girl, aged hardly more than 10 yrs, walking with a stick along side a woman. Yes, she could not see. She was a blind kid. And yet, what moved me was the courage that was visible on her face. She was not holding that lady's hand. She was on her own, with her soul companion for the life - her stick. The lady was training her how to feel the road with the stick, how to identify the poles on the pavement, how to know where to turn and so on. And she was there, patiently listening, following instructions, asking questions innocently, without any trace of grief in her voice and with a lot of determination and strength.
This is what I call courage. Most of us get shivers at the thought of spending even a few hours in the darkness. And here, this girl who has not even seen the world properly at her age, will have to spend her whole life in the suffocating darkness. But still she has accepted the fact and now she is ready to fight the battle. Battle with the destiny that has been forced upon her.
Why did God decide to take away the most precious thing known to humans from her? The vision? Did He think that the world is so ugly that the little soul does not deserve to see it? Does it not have any other beautiful things which this little child needs to see? Is it not cruel and extremely unfair to this child?
All the complaints aside, what we all need to learn from this is that we always crib and complain about our own problems. Open your eyes and look around. People with a million times more misery than yours are living in this world. And living with pride, living with courage. They do not give up. They fight. This is what all the people, including me, need to learn. Face the challenges. Conquer them. Live life like a warrior.
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