Days move like the electric poles near the railway tracks. Sometimes, they move like the edges of the sleeper slab too- either single, hard to catch but too hard not to notice or hard to notice and even harder to catch. Mind goes numb at that speed and wraps itself around the safety of the past.

Clearing the cobwebs,
Scrubbing the hardened stain of oil,
I wonder- is it this hard to get you off?

Its like flogging a dead horse- the more you beat it to resurrect it, the more you feel the futility of it. But anyways, having said that, I am gonna try beating it to life once more...to see if there is any more left in it!

When you have to say things that you both don't and do want to say, what do you say?

"I don't know"?

When would this search end?- The search for the missing pie(ea)ce- the morsel of memory stuck in the cavity of life!

Why would this search be on? - What purpose would it solve or what wounded heart would it console?

Searching for self in the images of the past, frames of memories wound on the canister of life! Oh- I despise it....the remorse is unspeakable- the pain it ferments- the disappointment it hurls- terrible!

Juggling around fancy words to weave a litany of moronic babble, I search- search for the missing pie(ea)ce!!

Amen!

Couple of days back, I was reading through something, when I hit upon this piece of post by Emanuel Derman. I follow his posts regularly and I find this post of his, informative and pretty interesting. I am just reproducing his words:

Doug Hofstadter's book about Godel's theorem, "I am a Strange Loop", points out that mathematicians before after Hilbert and Russell and Whitehead thought that in axiomatic systems, (a) if you could prove it, it must be true, and (b) everything true could be proved. Godel threw a monkey wrench into (b). There's a similar set of assumptions people often make about human beings: (a) If you can persuade someone of the logic of something, they should experience the same feeling as you about it; and (b) if people experience some feeling, there must be a logical cause. But this too breaks down in various ways. In my case, take global warming as an example of the falseness of (a): it's logical that I should be anxious to do something about it, but the logic doesn't really move me enough. I could try to explain why, but, in the end, that's how I feel. It's a version of Schopenhauer's "You can do what you want but you can't want what you want." I might want to be a person that wants to do something about global warming, but I can't be that person. That said, a long time ago I was friendly with a philosopher/physicist who told me in all serious that he wanted to be a person that liked classical music, and he could really make himself into that kind of person. I never knew whether to believe him. (b) is more difficult. There probably is a cause for most feelings or reactions, depending on what kind of cause you like -- Freud, Darwin or some neuroscientist stuff. But on the other hand, who cares: I like licorice: why? God knows and no-one cares. And why justify it? I thought of this when some telemarketer called to get me to donate money to some charity. I told her not to bother me at home. She tried to explain to me the virtue of the charity. I said I didn't want her to call me. She kept asking me WHY I wouldn't give money for something good? She wanted an explanation and I was tempted to give her one. But when I asked her why she had to call me, she said I was on her "list" and that was that. She didn't need any justification, though she wanted me to justify not giving. There's an old Lou Reed song called "Doin the things that we want to," and she knew how to do it.

There are more than a couple of inferences for me from those words. I particularly agree with these words : There probably is a cause for most feelings or reactions, depending on what kind of cause you like -- Freud, Darwin or some neuroscientist stuff. But on the other hand, who cares: I like licorice: why? God knows and no-one cares. And why justify it?

This justification is something that I have already discussed so many times. There can hardly be no reason (cause) for something that I feel or do, but why should I justify it and to whom? The do/like something intrinsically and there is no need to justify it. With Justification comes guilt- in my opinion, you don't justify unless you feel guilty about doing something- you don't justify the breath you take, the food you eat - but you tend to justify some exorbitant money you just lost gambling or the wrong way you took when you didn't know which way to go!

To me, Justifying something is an upfront acceptance of the guilt that I harbor and the moral smallness that I feel because of that, towards the person that I am justifying my actions. I don't think I need to justify my actions/feelings etc to anyone unless I really want apologies and/or acceptance. Expecting acceptance in itself is something that seems to me as repugnant. But then I realize we do it all time- every time. Seems unsurmountable to me. May be thats why we do what we do!

There were days when I used to steal my way away to my neighbors place late at night. Those were the days, when late night meant 8:00 PM and very late in the night meant 9:30 PM. Those were the days, when a black and white portable TV(mostly Solidaire) was the sole reason for fame. Thoe were the days when we called it Matinee the same thing that we call Noon Show. Those were the days when I was so young that I needed my mom to be at my side and my legs over her to sleep. Those were the days of Street Hawk.

I still remember vividly those nights when I have to steal my way away from my mom- we didn't have a TV then- probably this was in late 1980's- sometime around 1986 or 1987- that was the time when my mom wouldn't let me stay awake for watching Street Hawk- but at such an impressionable age, "The Man, The Machine, The Street Hawk" is such an enthralling proposition, that I didn't mind to many a times defy my mom and stay awake till that time to watch it. There were times when my neighbor would go to sleep, when I would wake him up for the show. Those were the days when watching TV was a thrill- the stories of Jungle Book, The He-Man and the Masters of the Universe- those days.

As I was feeling so nostalgic about those days, all I had was YouTube to keep me company. So, there you go!

I simply love the introduction and the "The Man, The Machine, The Street Hawk" tag line. Even the funny 300 MPH sounds good now- the green cube of focus that the Man will have in the Machine...when I see it now too, I am so excited about it. I watched it completely, called up a couple of my friends, made them watch it too- its just a great feeling to watch that, the "Ek-Chidiya- Anek- Chidiyaan" bit.

Those were the days, my friend
we thought they'd never end!- But end did they!

This news item that appeared in BBC today, caught my attention. The news is about Google deciding to ban essay writing ads from appearing. This is a classic case of clash between ethics/morality and business. The legitimate businesses that provide essay writing services- the business line here is legitimate. They are in outsourcing industry- its that simple. However, how many of us are comfortable with an University student buying an essay from one of these companies and submitting it, as his own?

Personally, I find no wrong in essay writing companies doing what they are doing. It is a legitimate business avenue for them. They get their work outsourced from their clients. Students in this case are outsourcing their job of learning/preparing a document about their learning to these third parties. Is it something wrong? My business logic says it isn't. I would try to get my job done as easily and best quality as possible. That is what all outsourcing is about. I get my job done at the cheapest and efficient place possible. It is also about the "Core Competency". May be essay writing is not my core competency. May be studying is not my core competency. So, I outsource that to someone who does it best. But where I go wrong in this case is, when I claim such a work as mine. If I dont claim that work as mine, then there is no point in me wanting that work done..right? The essay writing companies claim that they warn the users that, the work cannot be claimed as user's own is at best, sort of a disclaimer that no one really cares about. I really don't believe the claim that their essays are not being used for submission. As I said, there is absolutely no use in me paying for a work whose only purpose is submission as my own and not submit it!

It's a good case study for ethics class is all that I can say. Having done some ethics case studies, I think this case will have not differing opinions. Everyone will try to be in the "right" side of the divide. How can I justify the stance that the material is not used for plagiarism purposes? It is completely a personal ethical stance that every individual takes. As such, morality and ethics are seldom practiced as a group - though they get framed by a group- its always an individual that needs to follow it!- Weird World- Weird People!

Was reading something when I realized how true is this picture, when it comes to me and Slashdot!

The sameness!!! Arghhh...Ask me how frustrating it is to see just a handful of topics in Slashdot after 1 hour of inactivity!! I guess Metafilter does a decent job- but the titles sometimes people give to stories in Metafilter- I would rather hang myself than to even read anything further!! I don't know how people can imagine such titles!

One!

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

As your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the traveller in the dark,—
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

Another One!

Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full.

One for the master,
One for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane.

How many months had it been now..that I had seen you? I remember it...Its exactly 3 months and 2 days now...Isn't it enough time for someone to forget? But how can I? I see you in the digital Screen, in the late night sleep, in the frost of the day, in the freezing fingers. While at night, standing on the balcony and starring at the almost spotless sky, I can imagine what would you say for this. May be I know you so much? May be you are all that I had thought you were?

The adorable kid on my desktop solicits inquisitive questions and a muted, understood smile. That smile is a sign of playing along with the lie that I live through- just as the same lie you are living too. Isn't it hard not to look at that kid and smile to oneself- saying this is what I am missing? It is hard..mighty hard.

Every morning as I wake up and switch ON the comp, the smile, those twisted lips, those carefree childish face- that fleeting moment is what I look forward for, in a day. The last week, when this monitor wouldn't work and the laptop had to go for a service- there isn't something that I had missed so much as that face that wakes me up every day.

It's the feeling of getting back something that left you- words can't explain them.

I am just waiting for more Indian noises! I fail to understand the excitement over this news(purely and only from the perspective that I am ranting about here) and the tag "Indian-American". I am afraid we live in such a hypocratic world that I wonder what makes us think she is Indian anymore. I am sure Sunitha got where she got, not because of her nationality. She got there through her hard work, intellect and merits. To claim a national pride where there exists none - or at least to rejoice in such nationalistic jingoism, sucks.

I am skeptical whether Sunitha would claim herselves an Indian, anymore than Musharaff would claim himselves an Indian. I wonder how come none of our news papers ever call Musharaff an "Indian-Pakistani". In the same league, how about calling Advani, as "Pakistani-Indian"? Such stupidity!

I had never been a votary for this thing called "Nationalism"[Though I can understand there is some shred of pride in me, in the fact of being called an Indian- Old habits- die hard]- When are we going to come out of the Nation State? I think the time has come for Nation State to wither..But frankly, I am unable to see an alternative. May be just states and not Nation States would be a solution. But states can't survive without becoming a Nation State- else America would have been a province of England still.

Sometimes, when I really want a break from work for real, I read through the tens of spams that I get everyday. Some are ridiculously short "This is the file- Ok-Bye" stuff, while some are more elaborate "You inherit the wealth of Africa- waiting to confirm your account number stuff".

But some are interesting, in the subject they choose and the content they have. For example, I got a mail with the Subject "testimonial" and the content as below:

Here comes the quote of the year:
If Microsoft wanted to get more candy more quickly, it would leave some in the jar.

Some really thoughtful words with a hurt ego:

Its a time honored tradition of Slashdot'ers. You put up an article on some achievement by India, you would get responses that start straight away from the poverty and caste that India has to offer the world. This time too, it is no different.

One post on the successful retreival by India of the satellite, brought out so many silly, ridiculous, funny responses. But there are also some nice, insightful comments. That is what I love about Slashdot. But those niceties apart, you really can't deny this overwhelming feeling that India is been cast as a caste ridden and feudalistic society not worth its claims in the world stage. As one of my colleagues asked me at the Lunch table..." How did the cow got the sacred status it has in India state?" and "You say you are an Indian...aren't you Hindu??" and "You say you speak a different tongue than the rest of India..so are you Indian?"

These questions aren't funny. It only shows the lack of understanding that the world has over India- may be they are partly to blame..as much as (or to a much lesser extent) we are to be blamed. May be we didn't bother to make ourselves heard the "right" way. Is there a right way to be heard? Wouldn't people hear what we are and not what we want them to hear?

Whereas there is no dearth of surveys like this, I couldn't remember hearing anything of this sort done (or even thought) about for other countries...like say Russia, UK or Germany or China or India...Why is it so?

Its been a week in a foreign land for me- but except for the cold and the wads of clothing that I wear, nothing seems any different..I wasn't able to understand the excitement in people's voice when they heard that I am off to USA- and now, I am still unable to get the reason for the excitement. To me, it makes no difference. The roads, the distance, the loneliness, the computer, the electronic faces and virtual life - all remain the same...just that, they live in a different time zone.

I still only chat with friends- lost the personal touch of meeting them in person - with some, I had even lost that chat. People have long lost their faces...they exist mostly as profile pages and a permanent residence with an @ sign. I have forgotten- to a good extent- doesn't even know how someone's face would be. I imagine context and emotions to chat sessions- I interpret things the same way I used to...nothing seems to have changed.

It doesn't really impress me that there are so many cars on the streets- so many bikes- so many what not- Unless I have any of them- how does it matter if someone else has it?- Life is as same as it had always been- may be one difference is that, now I am cooking- and that’s after a break of good 4 years. How much ever I think about it, I am unable to place my finger on the lack of excitement in my stay here...for sure, I am not frightened… I am not home sick..I am not missing anyone...I am not missing Indian Food...I am not getting jacked at office...I am not anything....I am NOT.

When I start my 40 minute walk (one way) to office and back with my iPod plugged in spewing songs, that had never been any different- be it in Hyderabad or Mangalore or Plano. The songs remain the same, the bag remains the same, the walk remains the same and everything that goes with it remains the same. I watch SUN TV at exactly the same time as I used to watch- thanks to some streaming site. I had forgotten what a good food would taste like...so its all the same- Food has for sometime become just a potion to alleviate hunger and ceased to excite me as it used to- when I was able to appreciate it.

The office, the park, the cemented road, the zipping cars- absolutely nothing is any different. May be its supposed to be so!