My Crusade against Poverty, Hunger & Illiteracy

4th of July came and rhetoric eulogies were sung for the great declaration guaranteeing equality, life, liberty and a pursuit of happiness since 1776... The orator this time talked of long pending issues like equality of tax treatment, liberty of afghans, life to tired soldiers and a pursuit of happiness for prisoners in Bay area. The Indian media excelling at drawing parallels, unfailingly and spontaneously, produced evidences that how screwed up we still are and hence should be embarrassed yet again to mark the occasion of America's cake cutting...Intellectual diversity of recalled shames ranged from consistent failures of PMO to do an Indian 'The Kings Speech' act for a long muted man at top, to occasional failures of corporate in deciphering a legal protection model out of 'The Social Network' experience..and thus not only save assess but earn their faces an 'India Shinning' smile on centerfold of magazines for Aam admi to treasure

After these few innovative analogical insights they resorted to those age old BBC footages against which we have kinda biologically evolved with thick skin..thus I kept ignoring them comfortably before the clips got Americanized. I usually am quite composed unless served with anything English.. hence an outsourced impulsive nationalist fervor invaded me. Somewhere in this attentive segment a young attractive fella's pic was featured with a running caption "Ask not what your country has done for you ask what you have done for your country".. Both 'Made in US' and 'Inspiring', irresistible deathly combo.. A reverse psychology I attach with politicians.. and first asked what has my country done for me.. answer was quick in coming...Well for me the still a student..my country established institutes of technology and institutes of management making my quota of the universal summers of 69' miserably desperate..

What made me ponder long was recollecting What I have done for it..Excuse me for thinking meanwhile read things I sacrificed doing to stand by the ideals my countrymen supposedly believes in.. For dignity of the nation builders I controlled temptations of using swear words for incompetency... For Gandhi Sake I controlled violent uprisings against assholes I pledged as my brothers in school assembly, unaware who they were parented by.. In the name of Right to information I controlled impulses to rebuke at caste curious people... As a gesture of respect to feminine honor I controlled perversion for the same.. Believing in freedom of expression I controlled desires to sue the press for making us feel screwed up until Sachin scores..

Done with that??.. I am also done with thinking.. So talking of greater goods of eliminating poverty, hunger and illetracy.. Boss my life is nothing but a series of events culminating to these ends.. But since a secular me follows Buddha too, still complying to 'Hindi chini bhai bhai' theory, I believe self-conquest precedes all.. A student (learner) that I am, so I am overcoming India's challenge of poverty, hunger and illiteracy at the unit of self..

What is poverty?? Not having the means to satisfy your basic needs.. ryt?? My struggle against poverty is a tale of persuasive tears.. As a child I wished to be a cricketer.. but I had this poverty of talent.. so I struggled to defend my wicket by mostly crooks and threats (I owned the kit).. later the attention to cricket no more remained undivided.. how come that fella has a better cycle??..poverty of flamboyance.. I cried till no end till I got better one.. My growing love for movies with people around suggesting studies was taken as poverty of entertainment.. I cried on most Fridays and got results by next Sundays.. then I grew hormone wise.. How come that fella has a girlfriend and I don't.. poverty of love..Had persuasive tears been the key here I could have been something....Sad!!

What is hunger?? Not having enough ice creams after that stomach full of meat.!! Being served with usual staples when all you need so desperately is Maggie!!..etc etc.. Now this I managed through sycophancy and sweet-talks. In facts all my people skill can find their origin in that figurative sense of rat race which existed even before capitalism conceived in the womb of time.. Once this struggle against hunger conflicted with the desire to overcome poverty of love..I tell you the fear of gaining weight and the associated extra stuffs you need to chew to distract your thoughts from it is a real catch 22 situation.. Anyway before it was too late I was done with the mathematics of pros & cons and success probability with each endeavor.. and pursued my taste buds.

What is illiteracy?? In broader sense ignorance of performing unnatural tasks.. ryt??.. this part of my struggle against the darkness of ignorance, is marked with the Darwinian strategy of adaptive evolution and natural selections.. like not knowing how to do my assignments..I mastered coping it..Not knowing the means to get lab results empirically..I bribed the lab assistant..Not Knowing how to pass the coming exams.. I made micromini furreys..Not knowing how to articulate the cool stuffs to amuse people around.. I joined social networking..and I can multiply these examples.. but already I have gone too long.

A quick feedback analysis of the efforts shows ample positive results approving that I have performed excellently.. my assortment of poverty is almost singular now.. I have progressively kept up with higher end of BMI spectrum since inception.. and they say my knowledge is apt to fetch me enough ice creams and bribe all the regulators on my way to grave..

Saturday Sessions Settling Squares

I still vividly remember how as a kid I hated the unemployed. Not that I was class conscious capitalist-in-the-making or a nationalist who simply couldn't withstand the unproductive population burden they were instead of meaningful human resources guiding economic development at least till 2020. My detest was solely based on envious notions they filled me with every passing hour of the day.

Early in the morning while being forced to school I saw them either still snoring or waiting for bed tea. Just imagine how heavy a sight it would have been for a little kid who with celestial punctuality sacrificed the desires to snooze the alarm till infinity on a daily basis. The actively unemployed were found at the nukkad brushing teeth and skimming through newspapers simultaneously. Many a times I had an uneasy urge to bring to an end this shameless display of multitasking when they had entire day to fool around. I mean when my father, a regular 9 to 5 employed man, religiously devotes half an hour of undivided attention to national, state and local affairs (only taking annual pauses after an IAS topper interview to try instill in me a sense of aspiration which mostly were taken as embarrassments) what rights did these people had to make Page-3 skimming appear as a skillful art. Anyway, back then being a client of an hegemonic employed class of Ministry of education and HRD, I lacked time and energy to address the greatly needed social reform.

During afternoon on the bus back from school I intentionally avoided the window seat only to ignore the advanced model of this human specimen debating energetically on trivial issues (to me) of paramount significance (to them) on each and every tea stall and paan shop; their practice ground for parliament and state assembly. The degree of irresponsibility and unaccountability enjoyed by them when put to contrast with the answerable employed class only made me feel further pity for my future life as not being one among them. The admiration of their lifestyle coupled with my helplessness, further fuelled my hatred. The realization that even if I lived up to Dreams from my father I still would end up working under someone like them sank me to the depths of hopelessness for the destination my studies were taking me to.

Evenings were worst cause often when I was very close to a double digit score my mother signalled me to call it a day, pack my kit and retreat into the final pavilion not out.. to attend homework (as if I worked lesser in School) whereas these fellas were eventful pursuing their favorite work.. bird watching that was, euphemistically. The only solace (later a regret) was that there were not many beautiful nests around...but I was not aware that those broad minded intelligentsia came with no bars... and occasionally even migrated long distances in ornithological pursuits.

Now coming to why I recall this deep rooted and long subjugated hatred.. Its all because of the sight of those school kids cheerfully returning home while I am having my lunch break. So it turns out that while as a school kid I envied the unemployed class I too was a matter of envy for the working class.. (makes childhood look less pathetic now) ... and the working class itself was the envy of the unemployed.. specially so in nuptial age group... What a Vicious circle of envy and desire...!!

Anyway on Saturday mornings I take a tangential path by making sure to sip tea after tea near the bus stop when the school bus is about to arrive..

Internship Diaries

I believe a man is at his best when working, hence I actively think to act on something to bring the best of me. And when acting on nothing its not procrastination (save that for some lazy fella) but the wait for perfectionism that stops me. A perfectionist I am and have been patiently waiting for most of my life. Though this waiting never left me idle, my business is statically fashioned amidst wishful 'Ifs' and 'Buts'. Landing in Bangalore for summer internship I expected the stay to be a perfectly designed platform to witness my best. Luckily by Delhi standards there was no summer, and unfortunately even by some Pony-Tail Management Insti. standard there was no internship to be found.

First day by far was most hectic when the HR made us fill multiple forms and run from this work room to that work room looking for a Xerox. A Competitive current flowed in the gallery with each of the 20 odd intern marching briskly (almost jogging) to outpace others against the fear of being queued. Prepared I had came, I saw the work room first and conquest was compromised only with second spot. Yes I just quoted on lines of Caesar, but underestimatingly, as the task was of Herculean order. Next my naivety with the machine in itself is an interesting story.. but may be some other time.

After that day it was all downhill. Kind will be so humble a word for my benevolent mentor for gifting 3 days to search for accommodation, which near such SEZs is spread ubiquitously as criminals in assembly, PYTs in C.P. and grammatical mistakes in my blog. A learned friend had warned that at first day in office forget tasks the biggest question is finding someone to talk...but not in mine. The cordially welcoming crowd posed the question of selection and filtering. In my initial encounters with strangers I come with a low pass filter in terms of voicing my opinion but in my team we all were mostly silent types hence from first day itself we talked at lengths. Leaving me there was no other MBA guy so no banal exchanges were asked and we gelled in smoothly. Accommodation acquired, introduction done, terms established all I needed was work to bring the best of me.

Days came and gone, weeks came and gone, a month came and gone.. accommodation acclimatized, introduction stretched to past and future, terms fostered into bonds... yet all I needed was some work.. (Yeah I know You Know Why). Management talks about initiatives..which I took. Feeling of unemployment is heavy but believe me it grows far heavier when in an office. I talked with mentor.. I asked the mentor... and (if some artistic liberty be allowed) I begged too. Still apart from some occasional ppt stuffs all I have been asked is to play a silent observer in board room meetings, passing intelligent smiles & nodding agreeably on mostly technical points which goes over my head. Not to forget for these mere acts I have been rewarded with range of goodies and two free entertainment trips.

With time I have come to the realization that my high offerings and their modest requirement are never going to resonate, hence I have lowered my aspiration bar for the time being. Paulo Coelho postulated and Shahrukh khan spread the theory that how entire universe conspires to fetch you what you seek with all your heart... but like all other laws, except the one by a Murphy and a Newton fella, this too has turned up to be an elusive one, as of now. Yet all this adversity hasn't yet been able to undermine my belief. Someday sure I will find myself a job which will bring the best in me. I shall overcome one day.. Yes I can. Till then I am like the Mussadilal of my own office sharing my misery to a page.

P.S.: Between I have tried seeking opportunities to flaunt some Kotler gyan in the cafeteria but this dream too is still latent for the lack of an adorable audience. Murphy, Get off my Kundali Will You!!

My Governance Wishlist..

Democracy is the worst form of governance but better than all other known to us- Winston Churchill

Some chaps dreading maths opt economics, supposedly art, and are soon baffled by the complexity of regression analysis into a regretful life. Intelligently I escaped that and choose electronics engineering to garner my regrets. But last night experience made me realize that its not an art-science conflict but rather lack of enthusiasm. I mean what sort of genius is a requisite to be an autorickshaw puller but if next to Adam Smith anyone else has understood the exploitative dynamics behind demand-supply driven free market economy then they are the one. More so on Bangalore streets at night. The mofo charged me 400 bucks for what in broad daylight was 25 Rs affair in an AC bus.

How I wish we had a socialist transportation system!!

All you IT guys don't be ridiculous in complaining your job futility, after all its really not that unproductive. As much globally recognized an asset social networking is, equally unpraised is the online payment stuff run by you fellas. Circa 2003, standing in a 50 odd headed queue to pay landline bill outside an office having shadowing provisions for only those triumphant 3 or 4 who had patiently survived the heat. Being a weekday most fellas were rural folks for whom landline still was a recent invention and so bills lesser than there cost of commutation. And there I was, with my dues being a substantial share for the entire days collection, at the far end. Forget I-pods even a Nokia 3330 was a luxury back then, so no music to appease my impatience.. and carrying umbrella was way too unmanly. I the bourgeois class of the queue representing real India thought of suggesting collection of fattest bills first. Just thought.

How I wish we had a capitalist payment-queue system!!

Back in school was an arrangement that when teachers left the class in the middle for short durations, citing rational urgency (which now I think were excuses to attend nature's call), monitors (M & F one sex each) were responsible to maintain silence. Any noisy soul was chalked on blackboard for the returning teacher to attend with vaccinations (that's what we termed for ears being manhandled). My co-monitor oblivious of power politics listed my friends name. The bro-code was swore and my manliness was put to question to save that fella. I under pressure illicitly added on redemption rolls 3 of her friends and signaled expected trade-offs. Innocently diligent that she was, so naturally failed to comprehend. We had an argument; she giving logics me replying with fervors.. the matter got loud and at the loudest moment the teacher re-entered.. In vicinity of the bigger crime names on board were ignored.. Brocode was lived upto but I ended up getting the vaccination. Who watches the watchman??

How I wish administration be single party dictatorship!!

Its a tragedy for nation's sports culture that media highlights only cricketing icons. I personally felt that during the cricket team selection for standard 6th, when for 12 vacancies there were 30+ applicants. Had meritocracy been a strict criteria it was hard to get a place as the 12th man of even a back up squad...but I had my connections. Each batsman was given 3 shots and fate sealed.. Last to be tried I had to score minimum 7 runs to quantitatively tie with three others for the single place left.. I managed 6 only..but as said I had my connections. Captain and vice captain, both my best friends, vigorously pitched to selectors the qualitative aspects of my defensive shots... A day Later I played 2nd down.

How I wish my love for democratic elections remains eternal!!

Democracy is the worst form of governance but better than all other known to us- Winston Churchill

Eskool DaeZs

This stuff initially I was writing only for my school group on FB but at the end found the effort worthy enough to be shared to a larger audience.. hence the post..

They say we live life twice, first in improvisations and then in revisions- the two states of cognition. Once in present, amalgamating deeds with our vision of future; and then later in present analyzing our memories of past. Infact their is no well defined time boundary separating one state from other but instead its like a gradual transformation into the predominance of later over former. Drawing an analogy I think of a river flow, innocent at the glacier's foot ebulliently tracing whichever direction with no preconceived notions of destination (infact unaware of its very existence) and then the mid-life crisis of stagnation, few trade-offs between vanity and external expectations here and there before the acceptance of........ Wait a minute.. Improvisation!! cognition!! Mid-life crisis!! Vanity!! Where am I heading to?? This is my school group not a herd of seekers who have reached fifth stage of Maslow's hierarchy.. I shouldn't be penning down a philosophical doctrine here... I can always save that for my blog.. so coming back to my age's audience.. here I go.

May be I'm getting old earlier than expected or may be I am too jobless these days to do nothing but dive in retrospection..(Or may be certainly its the effect of Katli posting a school time pic on FB).. In last few hours I have done thing as meaningless as staring a lizard in a game lets-see-who-makes-first-move* and after nearly 30 minutes I won.. (that explains how idle I am.. three cheers for that).. An industrious fella I am and hence thought lets create something of this unproductive-sentimental-retrospective plunge..and thus this post.. presently the best alternative only next to some imaginary dates with ample blondes on an island where I am the only male -alpha or omega. Too much intro.. I guess the stage is all set and anyway if you have read this long you probably will/should read till the end..

Yesterday on a public forum, KD instigated and baba endorsed the idea that I am good narrator..demanding that I must narrate something from St. Mary's day.. My initial thought was Bloody what ya think me your nanny?? But then the supposedly MBA guy in me thought of how companies invest hugely, re-engineer vigorously and advertise insanely for projecting a core competency.. and here they are gifting me one just for a mushy comment I made, so why not cash the opportunity .. (So Baba unlike your contri this is no samajseva.. and let me make it clear my samajprem is limited only to the fairer half of your samaj)

Thinking of what to narrate I remember a childhood friend from St. Mary's only, who of that era was probably the most dedicated narrator in the world.. I believe he almost got orgasmic sensations listening to his own voice..cause always fluid poured through the left corner of his mouth while doing so..(Yes Cheap humor I know).. Once he nearly peed in pants just because he was in the middle of a story in front of the whole class when the call of nature knocked down south.. but a devoted man he was and was ready to be remembered as a martyr for a cause than a man who absconded the battlefield.. and thus the call of duty triumphed.. Infact those days I was kinda his protegee and if you people are a kind listener may be the second best narrator of my age group... though my priorities were set little more on need-of-the-hour basis.. and i have successfully escaped many battlefields more than once.. (hey that could be my second core competency).

So here goes an incident between guru-chela..

Remember the rocket thing in our smaller ground??.. Don't think too far our school was no modern cradle of science and technology..I am talking about the structure next to the charkhi thing.. So one day it was us playing the astronauts and disgusting our social circle simultaneously.. I don't remember to whom and for what exactly i used the word 'Saaley'.. yes the plural form of the S-word for standard 3 students..(what a civilized world that was!!).. I knew an unspoken line was crossed.. then followed a few moment of silence in reading the situation.. before I changed the topic to latest comic editions.. He too kinda ignored that heinous crime.. Phew!!

But then it turned out as a political move to buy time for weighing his options as at the day end he took me to a corner and blackmailed.... I-know-what-you-did-last-supper moment.. the terms of the agreement negotiated.. me sharing half of my lunch UNCONDITIONALLY!!... wish I knew the term 'Fatass mofo' back then and could have offered him the whole lunch box for using it.. but in our times they showed Disney Hours instead of south Park (Alas troubled childhood!!)..This thing went on for weeks and by then it was a crime so distant in memory that no threat appeared till horizon.... and the agreement terminated....The best part was even his crime was never taken as one such and we remained guru-chela ever-after till one day he left the school in mid sessions abdicating the title for me..

That's it and that's all.. I sincerely wish this was some masterpiece which I could have dedicated to him -my guru..

P.S. : * The lets-see-who-makes-first-move game with lizards was invented by a dear friend of mine.. A thinking man that he is.. And I never fail to emulate such time tested exercises which might make me one some day.. You can follow his other experimental thoughts at “Thoughts Unfolded” 

An Indian Beautiful Mind

Jeevan Nath, the recluse strategy Prof at Kingston University and a cricket enthusiast is in centrefold of talks for his path breaking Game theory of cricket, which is expected to revolutionize the way the sport is played. Just a week before a largely mysterious entity in neighbourhood, quite an ostracized member amongst colleagues and openly mocked figure amid student circles; Prof Nath has transformed into an epitome of recognition.

“Prof Nath’s achievement is the result of sheer dedication and hardwork” says Gajhodhar, the watchman of ‘Infinity apartments’. “Nath, a man lacking half the helping of heart, since the debacle of Indian cricket team in last world cup had been behaving even more weirdly. He was often discovered talking to himself at lengths” said fellow professor Mohan Sen in an envious flavour.

“Since last three years he regularly observed our matches with religious devotion taking colossal notes and often irritating fielders by paddling his bicycle from deep extra cover to silly point” reported Vinod Ganguly the conceited captain of Infinity eleven. “On complaining he retorted that he was governing our dynamics and weighing it against huge samples of people ranging from those of Munaf to Raina” added Vinod.

“Since recently he was often seen sketching strange illustrations and scripting complex equations on window panels. Once a baffled him even tried breaking the glasses with headbangs but fortunately aborted crying ‘I can’t see it’ ” added Gajhodhar. “Previously when inquired about his mysterious research, Nath termed it as an assignment for a cricket coach Vinaysheel Parasher whose identification is yet to be revealed” said Prof Mohan Sen.

We tried to get in touch with Prof Nath but could only manage interviewing Mrs. Aleesha Nath who found some time for us while ironing dozens of old twisted handkerchiefs. She told that Prof Nath, eventful scripting his plausible Nobel acceptance speech, was struggling to blend the paradoxical equations of love and logic. “You Just can’t imagine how pissed off he is since his eloquent speech at Kingston’s felicitation ceremony was not appreciated in the similar fashion as was his theory by the crowd bleeding blue.

PS: Written with a space at Faking News in mind :)

Laugh reflect and ignore

I vividly remember that crazy man. I came across him last summer on my return journey, from my maternal grandmother’s place, in the jam-packed environment of sleeper class, which in summers is like India in a nutshell, so many inhabitants to support so little room to sustain. This man sitting adjacent to me carried a facade as grave as funeral, which materialized unfittingly on his rather funny face; and he projected a depressed spirit evocative of an insolvent stockbroker, which again was erroneously placed on his frail shoulders.

It was a night journey and the reserved people rested flat on their respective berths with the waitlisted one invading the bordering unexploited spaces. An aged couple, waitlisted ones, invaded the majority portion of my side birth. Not knowing how to ask them to relinquish the annexed territory for me to slumber off, I reluctantly lay awake as a minority, surveying the shadowy trees pacing behind and tracing the path of adjacent tracks luminous by the moonlight, speculating how they at places converged together and at places emerged apart.

Suddenly this desolate man left his seat and walked across the aisle beside us towards the door. I happened to glance at his comical face which on that night faked seriousness and was by then wetted by tears. The counterfeit toughness was moistened by unrestrained emotions, summing up the inherent humorous potential of the face to its artistic pinnacle. I may appear to make fun of his melancholy but I swear the first thought which comes to mind seeing something as funny can never be sympathetic. Though I am deprived of judging people yet at that time I was convinced that his emotions were superficial, and not deep enough beneath the wet comical face to sympathize with. But then I heard the unlocking of a door followed by a thump. And then through the window we saw him rolling down the embankment.

While I was shocked taut by the incident and ashamed of my doubts, the aged male invader rushed to pull the chain, with an agility that bellied his age and the female companion contributed her part by disseminating the news at a piercing voice to all the incumbents of our and the immediate neighboring coaches . (Sure this grandpa generation must have been lot fitter in youth than what mine young coco-colaized generation is)

No sooner the chain was pulled the train stopped within few hundred meters -the only instant service provided by the Indian railway lived to its credit- and no sooner the news was spread all the Indians who heard it charged hurriedly to the door – unfailing to seize such once in a life time adventure in their typically unsporting Indian life. Commanding my shaken senses, I too joined the great Indian escapade.

The echoing sound of engine stabbing the death like silence of night vanished and the rumbling commotion of energized masses acted as surrogate, though a feeble one. An equally worried and thrilled crowd ran in the direction where the desolate fool was last seen progressing down the steep rocky gradient. I too was running with the mostly lungi wrapped crowd; a few moments earlier with nothing to do I had found a purpose worthy and thrilling enough to run for it in a deserted landscape.

Soon the rolling fool was in sight lying motionless in the middle of the unfarmed weeds. I expected him at least three-fourth dead if not deceased. But then to my surprise or better say to the collective surprise of the crowd the hopefully dead fool roused surreally defying death, and even more, he ran away deep into the darkness leaving us behind shocked, puzzled and frightened.

Different reasons were floated down by different scholars in the rest of the journey, of which the most logical one seemed that he ran away fearing the furious crowd, which discovering him alive contrary to their hope might push him to death . May be escaping death by a whisker made him realize the worth of life and he learned to love life in the face of death.

Some scholars forced by curiosity forced the CRPF to investigate his luggage which later was found to be a mainly a collection of love letters and memoirs. The same old story: Attraction to some lady…. worship of the lady…. declaration of the passionate devotion…....a virtuous rejection…….renewed wooing and few oaths of eternal fealty which when unsuccessful leads fools to the permanent solution of the time bound suffering.

Quixotical moral of the story: “Devotion can either render you victorious or destroy you”

A rather practical and useful caution: “Beware jumping from an Indian train is poor option to die; it may live you crippled for the rest of your life to try anything as such.”

P.S. : The narration is a mischievous amplification of a real life confrontation witnessed by a good friend of mine. The ‘I’ in the passage is he through my eyes.

Every dog has its day

Before we begin, an important information for you, this post is not written by your moronic blogger Saurabh. He realized lately that how lacklusterous his last few post have been and how readers (who I suppose are hardly any) are exasperated. So he begged me to write something interesting in a guest column. As we are long time friends, meeting every morning at the tea shop sharply at 4’o clock just before we go to sleep, I couldn’t say no to him and so reluctantly accepted. So, here I go.

Hi all humans out there,

Firstly let me introduce myself. My name is Tiger and I am a stray dog. Few people also christen me Tommy but I abhor that name as it sounds identical to the name of an exceedingly inefficient housecat created by William Hannah and Joseph Barbara, unable to settle square with a little mouse called Jerry. Also it reminds me of an aged Tommy lee Jones who himself declares that there is ‘No country for the old men’. I prefer being called ‘Tiger’ as it projects my youthful vitality and sex appeal; you can snoop to my gorgeous bitch friend as testimonials.

I am young and lazy and I hate incompetence. I try to bark on fellow dogs and bitches a lot, on the benefits of being dynamic, that sucks a lot of my vigor and so I became lethargic. They don’t seem to be bothered for my words, but I confidently believe every dog has its day and till then I ought to keep barking. I remain wakeful the whole night barking devotedly unless and until it perturbs the night watchman and my fellow stray mates.

Mother used to say that dogs and human had a long term friendly relationship since the very early civilization. But somehow you people were the first to discover fire and wheel, while we were busy in guarding and hunting for you and in some of our private roadside activities. These two meager discoveries made you supercilious and disdainful; you people began projecting us as a loyal servant than a sincere friend. That really agitated our community. Mama told that once there was even a plan for mass uprising among dogs during early 1950’s, but the very gratifying human act of giving priority to a bitch called ‘Laika’ as the first native of earth in space, greatly placated the agitation. Other times too there were some minute aggression when our dog friend Pluto was shown as a subordinate to a mouse called Mickey, but again human creations like Scooby-doo, 101 Dalmatians’, Turner and Hooch, White Fang etc helped a lot in pacifying the probable revolts.

Many of you human feel its misfortune being stray dog. Unfortunately they don’t realize how much contentment it is being a stray dog. Agastya Sen of English august fame recognized this and stated ‘I wished to be a domesticated male stray dog because they lived the best life. They are assured of food and because they are stray they don’t have to guard the house to earn their foods.’ He is an intelligent man, an IAS officer do I need any more evidence. In my opinion an IAS job is very similar to that of a stray dog. I have seen many stray blue light vehicles wandering here and there on government fuel without having to return anything significant in return as service.

Contrary to what you humans might think about us I think it is pity hard being human. Must be even harder being students. Daily I see many of them coming to the tea shop which is place of my night halt at 3:30 A.M. There eyes tired with the one night study routine and there talk filled with the frustration about the system they are put into. Its pity to see young kids strained into smoking by the profound quantity of work load.

Though my mother is not sure about the whereabouts of even my own father but she says that once during the time of my grandpa’s grandpa’s grandpa in late 60s there was a movement in dog community to make provision for essential educational training for each and every dog. This campaigning started somewhere in US, crossed the Atlantic and spread away throughout Europe. The consensus of dog’s of Middle East and Africa was not sought of as there dogs were still waiting for similar provisions for girl child educational training. But when it reached India we vehemently opposed such provisions. We send our delegates to US and Europe along with few NRIs of brain drain stream, under secret missions, in order to explain them how Indians are doing fine in spite of low literacy rate. It took time and effort but our mission was successful at the end. I thank God my ancestors succeeded.

Friends I would have loved to share few interesting incidents of my life worth sharing, but an impatient Saurabh says I have this limitation of space. I think he is afraid I have not been of much help to the blog, but after reading the prior posts I think, so is not he. In case if he allows me another chance I hope we can continue till then bye and take care.

Bark N Snarl fully yours
Tiger

Chemistry Behind “FALLING” In Love

The remark chemistry in the title is not in the figurative sense but literal. Unquestionably you must have pondered over why it is always falling in love why it isn’t in the other way, rising in love. Well I do recollect a commentary in TOI’s ‘speaking tree’ discourse where some maharishi sermonized over how to ascend in love. Though I did not bothered much about it as it, more often than not, dealt with universal brotherly sort of love, which is a perplexing concept even in the locality of Philadelphia (the city of brotherly love).

Now let us scan this love virus through a rational perspective. The cheeky citation which once an eventful Mr. Einstein remarked on the question of love is proverbial. He cited “Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love”. It’s straightforward. We all can identify that. But Mr. Einstein with all his consummate and innate physicist flair failed to convey a theory of ‘falling’ in love, may be he would have included this issue in his theory of everything which haplessly is still been devised. Thus all the physics, till present, fails here.

Switching over to biology and neurophysiology in hunt of a plausible elucidation. It appears so vexed to an engineer like me. Also at the end it talks about the various chemical processes engendered in brain, the heart is conspicuous by its very absence. They say in love it all originates from heart and biology projects it as a miniature human cranium stained in oodles of blood. That’s why biology is so soporific. So I stirred to chemistry of which I can claim to have a little acquaintance (although it was nightmarish in preparatory days).My darling topic in it was ‘Atomic Structure’ (as it was damn plain), and luckily I figured my much sought after answers there alone.
Remember drawing the energy diagram during formation of ionic bonds. The underlying theory is: “As opposite charges attracts each other therefore the electrons fall towards the nucleus and as they get nearer the energy of the entire system dwindles which thus leads to stability of the system”. A parallel rationalization of ‘loveology’ for the vindication of the falling term could be “Lovers attract each other (opposite pairs provided they are straight), this brings them closer (In our institution at the onset library is their citadel though later on if love prevails they scour out all the exotic locations where their contingent is in preponderance). The energetic inanity and seemingly endless drivel telephonic sessions (at one of the cheapest rate worldwide) is a highly demanding process (so energy is naturally lowered). The complexity involved in the process hardly leaves someone with time for any other activity, and thus stability comes as a byproduct.”

Ironically most of these phenomenons often end into feud. Now tell me how such a complex milieu could leads to a rising situation unless and until it is an illusory Bollywood movie? It may look blasphemous to few and raise some ire. But boss in case your love story is true (CAUTION think again: which is the rarest of things to discover) than the stability which your fall will fetch is pious and virtuous one. Still if you are at loggerheads feel free to scribe your comments.

P.S. U still can post comments even if my analysis is at par with U. Now U will say he is hungry for it.

THE LOST SYMMETRY

Have you ever reflected over the significance of symmetry in creation of universe? I believe it enjoyed an alpha incumbency in God’s psyche when he was busy in creation. It is just a private judgment and one is free to squabble in favor of the ‘Divine Proportion’ (Mr. Dan Brown we owe you great deal of gratitude to introduce us with it when all our mathematics teachers failed to do so), but still the symmetry factor is more palpable one. Infact it is it’s omnipresence that we shell out no heed to it. It need not takes a bona fide geometrician in us to appreciate the symmetry in life. Either be it we the Homo sapiens or other living creatures, either be the trees or be the mountains, either be the celestial bodies and their elliptical orbits or be the minuscule atoms every single one flaunts symmetry. Thanks to our forefathers who reverentially esteemed its relevance and so imitated it in all human conception either be it the mighty pyramids or something as basic as poetry and verses.

I for myself paid no heed to it ere I attended our last hostel foregathering. Don’t assume that we were given any sermon on it by a faculty and in case if they delivered who cares to give even a single byte of their limited oomph to them. Never do I (and given that you found time to read this blog my conjecture is nor do you). Friends I legitimately believe that one is the paramount pedagogue for oneself, and experiences are the real lessons to be learnt (which I myself do sporadically).

It happened so that when after the soporific congregation was over and populaces were energetically swarming out of the foyer, someone inadvertently swapped his left base slipper with that of mine, as they both were alike in all respect but only the size (I wonder how he naively missed to admire the disparity). Being the last to egress, I was left with no alternative but to plant my legs in the vaguely disparate pair. Now whenever I use them uneasiness prevails and I try my level best not to anywhere make it conspicuous to others. The very gaze of them exasperates and I curse the person who mistakenly did so and then I curse my very stance to linger till the pandemonium ends prior to exiting an entrance. But nevertheless it compelled me to identify the grand evenness clandestinely around. Thank you my lost symmetry.

P.S.- Though the blog is not intended amid this reason but in case if you are the hapless possessor of the other pair please just let me know.