Signing back in

Finally, things have been done with for this semester, phew now I can afford to take a two day breather before getting back to more important things.

Just to ease things back to normalcy, heres something to read, reflect, chew and ponder. Secrets!!! What is it about secrets, that you guard with all your life? Why does it prick curiosity to know others' secrets? Would you tell your secrets in a confession knowing that it would never be known to anybody else? Do your secrets make your blush in embarrassment or red with evil? Read through this, make your surmises and let me know what you think about it.

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

Sigh...!!

Its that time of the semester again when professors haunt your dreams and the image of the lucifer is replaced with your professors face. I'll be busy burrowing under my books but not necessarily studying them. This time it might take me longer and bigger binges to recover from them. Signing off until then.

John Titor and time travel

A word of caution: this is a pretty big post so dont start on this unless you have atleast 15-20mins to spare. If you do read through this just sit back and relax, it'll be fun and you wont be disappointed especially if you are a fantasy or mystery freak.

"Some folks at MIT are holding a time-travelers' convention. The idea is to make it so famous and so widely-known that even thousands of years in the future, people will still know exactly when and where this time-traveler convention went down, and will all come travel to it at some point in their illustrious time-traveling careers. For those interested in attending, it's on May 7, 2005, 10:00pm EDT (08 May 2005 02:00:00 UTC) in the East Campus Courtyard at MIT. 42:21:36.025N, 71:05:16.332W (42.360007,-071.087870 in decimal degrees)."

Time travel? Can we travel in time just for the heck of it or to try and set things right? You would probably say that if you could, you might wish to see the birth of Renaissance, the Russian and French Revolution, the Jallianwallah Bagh. If you have any pretensions of being righteous you might want to prevent the murder of Gandhi or maybe kill Hitler or prevent the nuclear holocaust. But, are you sure that Hitler wasnt killed by a time traveller who decided to stop him before more Jews could be prosecuted? Is time travelling really travelling in time or travelling through space and time to reach a different dimension, a parallel world? Maybe the Asimov fans could counter this. What if you could travel at the speed of light to travel in the future or travel through a black hole to travel back in time?

Theres always the timeline to worry about. Let us suppose a close friend of yours or a family member died a few years back through unnatural circumstances, if you can go back in time and prevent it from happening, how will the timeline be affected? For example, a 20 year old has missed his Dad since birth, who died in an accident, if this fatalistic passage in time could be avoided how will the timeline change. (Check out a movie called frequency) If you change your own past can you go back to your own future to reap the benefits or would the new future have a new you to match it. I believe even if you can go back in time to change an event, you never change your past, but rather just chart a new future. Well if you think that it is impossible to change the past, then you have to conclude that it is impossible to change the future too because your future is somebody else's past. Which means the way your life turns out has already been determined and cannot be changed. Sounds fatalistic right? I hate it too.

While we talk about time travelling in the present age, what about the possibility of a time traveller from the future or from the past. But when he does, he'll instantly split the timeline, and the one he came from will become a parallel universe to the one he's in. Why? Because in order for a time traveler to notice a certain incident in the future, say for example the MIT convention, it will have to happen at least once without him. In fact, the moment he interacts with anything or anyone from our timeline when he arrives, is when the timeline splits, because he wasn't there the first time around. Also, when he goes back to the future, his timeline will have been altered and he may not even exist in the timeline he returns to; and he will have no way to get back to his own previous future timeline, unless he goes back again a little earlier and tells his alternate self to go back immediately without going to the convention. This gives rise to what is called as a grandfather paradox.

Who the hell is John Titor? Well, hes purpotedly a time traveller from the future. The first time I read about John Titor, I felt like when I first read about Nostradamus, UFOs and ghosts. The possibility of another existence, a parallel world, such a discovery could lead to tremendous possiblities. You see, Im sort of a fantasy freak and I like mysteries, especially where theres none. Alright no tarrying lets get back to John Titor. John Titor or Timetravel_0 as he was first known in Internet bulletin boards during 2000/2001, claimed to be a timetraveller from the year 2036. A soldier, he claims to have been recruited by a government time travel program along with three other soldiers to travel back in time to retrieve an IBM 5100 computer which he claimed was needed to "debug" various legacy computer programs in 2036. It is also useful to note that Titor stated in Internet bulletin boards, that he had no interest in "proving" that he was a time traveler, and many of his "predictions" were offhand comments or answers to specific questions. Titor himself explained that he was not going to give anyone information that they could use to save themselves or profit by. (Check Back to the Future)

Some of Titor's prediction: Between the years 2000 and 2036 Titor depicts what can be described as World War III followed by two decades of recovery. He claims that the genesis for World War III began in 2004 with the US presidential elections, which is followed by a second American Civil War leading to rising tensions in Middle East. This is followed by Russia nuking many US cities to put an end to the civil war and China effectively taking over Taiwan, Japan and Korea. He goes to point out that the new seat of power in the US become Nebraska and the society in 2036 pays more empahsis on religion, personal interaction and self succiency. However in his predictions, technology does not seem to be much affected with continuing advances in rapid transportation, space travel and genetic engineering. Much of his predictions and some omens that foretell the accuracy of his prediction can be found in a John Titor fans website. His fans are even called as Titorites.

What makes John Titor believable? Titor's story is accompanied by a well described theory of how exactly he manages to travel in time that is consistent with known concepts of time travel and black hole mechanics. He also talks about the philosophical impact on society created by the realisation of the existence of multiple timelines. The theory was supported by pictorial evidence, including schematics and photographs of his "time distortion gravity displacement" machine, as well as a photograph of it in use showing a laser beam being bent by the time displacement outside the 'vertical safe distance' of the time travelling vehicle.

What makes Titor sound like a charlatan? Why should Titor travel back in time to collect a 1975 computer considering the technological advances in 2036? Titor's internet postings are riddled with spelling and grammatical errors, and present-day linguists do not predict major changes in spelling or verb usage over the course of the next thirty years - such major linguistic changes take centuries to evolve. Titor's claims about future events are disconcertingly vague - if a project team was going to send somebody back in time, surely they would send back a person who had at the very least a basic grasp of recent history, including concrete facts such as significant dates, persons, and events from 1998-2036. His failure to "predict" 9/11 is seen as a glaring oversight. Some label Titor as an American internet radical along the line of militias existent during the Clinton administration. Scientists and physicists who analysed the science involved in Titor's time travel explanations, state it is impossible, both in theory and practice. Titor's story, many claim, plagiarizes older science novels to construct his time travelling stories and the similarity to the storyline of Twelve Monkeys is quite striking. Also, there is the entirely believable possibility that people are still extremely gullible to believe the plausibility of Titor's time travel and stories of a post-apocalypse world. Nostradamus and modern age city-grown Yagava Munivar's, are a testament to this fact.

To what extent do we believe John Titor and his prediction of the future. After all, he paints a pretty bleak picture of a harsh life after nuclear war and how water must be filtered to remove radioactive particles.

In Titor's own words:

As far as I can tell right now, you are headed toward the same events I would call "my history" in 2036. However, the very nature of time travel states that every worldline is unique and you are very much in control of what you do and how you get there.

You are able to change your worldline for better or worse just as I am.
Therefore, any "prediction" I might make has a slight chance of being incorrect anyway and you now have the ability to act on it based on what I've said. Can you stop the war before it gets here? Sure. Will you do it? Probably not.

Yes, it's very possible that what I say would spin your future off into a different direction.

John Titor and the compelling story around his "travel" is made of numerous damnable facts that are neither entirely believable nor entirely falsifiable. It is for this very reason many such stories will be built around him now and in the future, who knows maybe in the past in a different worldline and timeline.

Alright folks, as usual comments are invited for discussion. If we are unable to find a middle ground in our views and opinions through the blog lets meet in person. Just point out where you are at the moment in your galactic and solar orbits relative to a few quasars, please? I'll meet you in the past, present or future!!

P.S: for more information check out www.johntitor.com

Surreal and ephemeral

The sky was painted with shades of crimson and tangerine, indicative of a twilight that was fast approaching and threatening to engulf the shore with darkness. Quite oblivious to this stunning sunset were two shadows sitting in their deck. The last gasps of sunlight defining their presence as the only witnesses to the play of the rays and clouds. The rays seemed to soften the clouds and the horizon, the twilight colors muted and subdued in awe of the larger than life personas of the two shadows. Her head lay on his shoulder and perfectly fitted the gully between his head and shoulder and his head on top of hers. Like two pieces of jigsaw puzzles they perfectly fit each other. They held each other close lest the sea breeze occupies the space between their physical beings and forms a rift of separation.

Through troubled times, they would shoulder each other. Each giving thousand words of courage for every word spoken and another thousand words for those they did not. His face, wrinkled, each wrinkle a testimonial to the trials and tribulations at the hands of a harsh and unrelenting society. His face showing the pain of hiding his troubles from her. But often, to show that love shores up the fraility of the being and self, he would drop the facade of courage only between themselves. Emphasizing his vulnerability to the outside world but taking courage from her physical and emotional presence. No words yet spoken.

Their hands held together, fingers entwined, like a ball of wool, they formed an intricate pattern, its beginning at the root of their heart. Each gentle and responsive to touch, always on the verge of engulfing each other in flames of passion, yet never held tightly that would make them conscious of it. It would be hard to tell for the dispassionate that the shadows had any beginning or end. The air around them froze, keeping their distance, not wanting to intrude their presence.

He was looking out into the horizon. His gaze unfocussed, his mind not taking in anything other than the her presence beside him. He didnt have to look at her to know that her attention was focussed on him. She reached out to him. Her hand drawing an imaginary crease along the sides of his face, fingers taking the path of his features. Her forefinger coming to rest beneath his chin and the thumb on the chin, urging him to look up. He was resisting her silent request not wanting to move a muscle lest it shall alter the alignment of the cosmos and destroy the tender moment hanging in the balance.

But, he slowly gave in and did something that he would regret for a long time to come; he looked up and realized that she had no face.

Whaaaaaaaat....

I open my dreary eyes, each eyelid weighs a ton, every miniscule muscle strains, such rebels these tiny muscles are, thinking they could rise against the all conquering mind. They are crushed with the brute force of the mind, rather they are lifted; slowly the eyes take in the vista. Blurred in the beginning, the focus goes wild, slowly the eye tweaks its focusing mechanism, the vista before me comes into focus. Im inside a room a small 8 feet X 8 feet room. A section of the room is partitioned from my view by a glass sliding door. The room itself is hardly inviting to my presence inside it. The ventilator fans, above my head whirrs in protest against my presence, the fan blades provides the only source of sonority inside the room.

With measured steps like an underwater diver walking on the seabed, I come face to face with the sliding doors. Its actually glass but Im unable to see my reflection in it. Now it seems that my hands are tied to the sides of my legs. This is proving to be a physically draining activity so far inside this room. I was weak when I found myself inside the room, I wasnt sure of the time, but atleast half a day would have passed without any nourishment. The strain on the body and mind was showing. My fingers grip the doors handle, in an instant my body and the muscles convulse to the feel of cold metal against raw skin. With every ounce of energy I pull the sliding doors to the right. First it doesnt budge, then with a concentrated effort, I channelise my energy and pull the door to the right.

My senses are assaulted, too much information to assimilate in the alien area so far and the partitioned area makes the mind take in more information. The color is dull and uninviting, the is a distinct smell though not given to any particular odor. Yellow tiles, criscrossed with cream tiles on three sides, the fourth being the sliding doors. The shape of the tiles and the smell reminds me of a hospital, a morgue both of which is hardly endearing at the moment.

I look inside to my right and the wall in front of me. Nothing distinctive to capture my attention so far and nothing threatening or intimidating. Slowly I turn to my left, I suck in my lungs instinctively and unwillingly Im forced take in the smell of the room, my senses are frozen. I forget to exhale and with my mouth agape, stare at the alien being jutting out of the wall on my left and high above my head. It appears to have one eye in its circular gray cranium. The most shocking thing was yet to come, around the singular eye, there seemed to be tens of small pores. Their function, was yet unknown but there were far too many to be misinterpreted as a mouth or nostrils. Waiting, with my breath held against a screaming pair of lungs that yearns my mind to give the command to exhale, I expect the alien being to make the first move.

After what seems to be aeons of microseconds, it is true when they say sometimes the smallest time period seems to be the longest, knowing that the alien being is not going to make the first move, I step into the room. Not one moment did I take my eyes off the dormant being. Only when I was totally assured that the alien being wasnt going to do anything, did I look about the area surrounding the alien being. Thats when I noticed the crazy looking dials that somehow seemed to be connected with the "higher being".

With trepidation, my hands slowly reach out for the dials. In fact, my hands are slowly pulled towards the dials. My thoughts are muddled, yet Im aware that this is probably the defining moment so far and something is about to transpire. From all accounts so far, something sinister, something surprising and shocking is about to happen. My hands have a life of their own, they turn the dials clockwise, suddenly the higher being spews out through its tens of pores, first it freezes my bone to the marrow. The next instant with more tweaking from my hands, my skin scalds. Finally, the higher being takes advantage me, it has been studying me all along. Straddling in half asleep and brain at its tired existence the shower head takes its revenge for squeezing out its life everyday.


Whats so special about the shower? you ask. Laziness, sloth, procrastination, dirty dishes, dirty laundry, smelly socks, unmade matteresses, half cooked meals......naah these dont belong to the exclusive set of single guys. Ablution!!! What is it about guys that makes them take long showers the moment they step into a bathtub and turn on the shower? No dont get any mischievious ideas. Im not saying it doesnt happen, there is something else too that entices and hold guys back.

Exam or not, late or not my shower takes me a minimum of 20 minutes. What the hell am I doing in the shower for 20 mins everyday? Soaping and lathering, you may think. Nope, Im too lazy to soap and lather, I just stand under the shower for that long. Insane, you say, I plead guilty and I most definitely would agree anyday.

What do I do under the shower? The sound of the water hitting your body, your hair, the water hitting the shower screen and the bathtub, it never fails in its metronomic accuracy, everyday its the same sound, but everyday it never fails to soothe me. I think, I chew, I plan, I dream about the past, the present, the future. I think about the past, the time when I had lots of hair on my head. I relish the present, how many more years will it be before I lose what I have now, how thin the hair gets with every passing day. Blame the lead content in the water, blame L'oreal, Vive, Dove, the thickening shampoo never thickens. A future without any hair!!! a hairy nightmare indeed.

I plan my day, go over the previous day. Every single day that I start, I plan it beforehand. Nothing irritates more than an unexpected surprise, an extra piece of responsibility or work. I never shy away from work or responsibility, infact I crave more responsibility but I like to have a control over what I do and I hate plans going awry. As I way saying, I plan the day in the shower, I plan everything I do, but my plan about rationing the time under the shower has never succeeded. One of my lifes funny ironies.

About love........

In truth I should be the last person to talk about love, my preception of love has always been immature, muddy and preposterous. In fact, I dont think I have still grasped the entire spectrum of feelings collectively termed love. My first understanding of love was from movies, confused between reality and commerciality, I could never paint the big picture, there were far too many dark areas. Imagine looking at a Van Gogh in candle light, the details were just not there for all to see. In fact, like tourists appreciating the Van Gogh for being a Van Gogh more than anything else, "love" seemed to hold a charm without understanding what it meant.

From celluloid love to hormones-working-overtime-adolescent love, dreams are invariably centered about the perfect girl. Like playboy centerfolds, the perfect girl or the perception of the perfect girl changes every month or even faster. The perfect girl can be just about anyone from the girl next door to the girl in your class to the senior girl who works with you on a school project. The girl next door? Does it even exist or are all the beautiful girls housing next to Hrithik Roshan? Believe me even if a beautiful girl moves ostentatiously next door and throws a wild party every week, I would need a cardiac arrest to wake up to the fact.

What about love after marriage? What about love after arranged marriage? Some claim that love after marriage is the true love. For some others arranged marriage might be the easiest option towards unconditional love, no strings attached. Still others are cynical, boorish and antagonistic towards arranged marriage.

But, what is it about love, exclusive of physical love, that makes it so complicated. Why does it happen to a few and for others it is as real as the lochness? But when we bond with someone special why does it become difficult to get away from the attachment. Still, compromise plays a great part in love and marriage. So, if you are compromising with the one that you love, then could you say that the partners are not truly tuned in. After all, if two people who are in love and understand each other so very well, there neednt be any compromise at all, does it? It gets complicated as we grow and build a definition of love and how ones love life should be.

Truth is, sometimes we want to love so much and be loved so much, we are not too choosy about who we love. Other times we make love such a pure and noble thing no poor human can even meet our vision. But for the most part love is recognition, an opportunity to say 'There is something about you I cherish'. It doesnt necessarily entail marriage or even physical love. There is love for your parents, love for the nation, love for people and love for the simple pleasures of life.

Some love comes like wind off the sea; while others grow slowly from the seeds of friendship and kindness. Which one is yours? Which one do you prefer to be yours?

P.S: To all the people who know me personally, this is just an offhand opinion about love. So please hold onto our horses and rein in your imaginations :)

Exams

"A student who changes the course of history is probably taking an exam"

~ Anonymous

The only history Im trying to change is my own. For that matter Im quite busy this week and won't be posting or replying to comments or visiting other blogs :)

Best and the rest..........

What is it about the best stories in sports and life, being the triumph of spirit, mind and body against all odds? What is it about the audacity of the meek to challenge the mighty and the best? What is it about audiences cheering the underdogs, as unlikely it may seem? Some of my favorite moments in sports have been watching Ivanisevic win Wimbledon, Greece triumphing in the Euro championships and a down and out Sri Lanka beating their tormentor, Australia in the world cup. What can be more exhilarating and elevating than seeing the underdogs, give their best and walking out of a lost cause with their heads held high and chest puffed. Not only in sport, how often does our voice crack and experience a lump in the throat, when you hear about the common man, who choose to carve his own destiny despite numerous sufferings.

Nevertheless, I came across an article by Andrew McLean, a New Zealand stereotype, if there is one, and he put forth the idea, albeit in humor, to seclude Australia from international cricket because they were simply too good. Make them play only world cups and a select few, he suggested. A few years ago the FIA tried to undermine the combined might of Ferrari and Schumacher, again because they were dominating what is essentially a spectator sport. Thankfully, the ICC does not have such foresight nor such decision making powers at its disposal.

Why this sudden stream of thought? Since when did the concept of a fair competition and evenly matched teams become a norm in the world of sport. Isnt competition about two individuals or two teams, each with their unique strengths and individuals, pitching their ability one against the other, however unbalanced they seem. Isnt that what competitive sports events are all about. Would you watch a match, knowing that Australia is playing without Gilchrist, McGrath, Ponting, Warne, not because of a quirk of fate, instead to ensure a fair and even platform, against a much maligned Zimbabwe or Bangladesh. It is indeed true not even the most die hard fans of the Oz, want to watch Australia take on Zimbabwe or Bangladesh, but for oppositions playing against the best, it is their opportunity to watch, admire and learn what it takes to be the best. For the best, set the standard, raise the bar and extend limits and challenge others to do the same. Isn't that the mantra for the best and those aspiring to be the best in all walks of life. Wouldn't you relish knowing that Zimbabwe or Bangladesh gave Australia a run for their money.

The pertinent question is should the best really be alienated or their ability undermined for the sake of competition or entertainment. Why this sudden persecution and dissension? What for? Competition? undermining the ability of the best so that they can compete on a platform where the mediocre can give them a run for their money. Entertainment? for the sake of the crow do we punish the nightingale. Isn't the purpose of competition lost when the victory is undervalued by tilting the balance in favor of the meek.

It is not within us or any central body to take away what is rightfully achieved by a select few through a combination of hardwork and foresight, and give to the mediocre, simply because they are mediocre and incompetent. The way of life and sport is determined by the desire to compete in an area of expertise of an individual or team and their passion for it, not dictated by the incompetent. Let us praise the best and not feed on their guilt for being the best, for that is the way of the meek and impotent.

P.S The need for this post arose from watching 14th ranked Vermont basketball team beating the 4th ranked Syracuse. The joy on the faces of the young men, cannot be put in words by me. For many, they had achieved what was the pinnacle of their young lives, such was their emotions, for they wore their hearts on their sleeves. On another note, I also beg to differ to with Andrew Mclean and many including some of my friends who think that Australia should be stopped from playing, although they all suggest it in humor.

What if there was no afterlife??!!

How many among us believe in afterlife, judgement day and heaven/hell. Most Hindus believe strongly in the concept of afterlife and heaven/hell. Judgement day is as old as Adam and Eve, so is the concept of heaven for the good souls and hell for the bad souls. The question is what really drives people to differentiate and make the choice of good over bad. Is it the fear of God, fear of hell, fear of an unattractive rebirth or an inherently good heart.

What if the concept of afterlife and heaven/hell is nothing but a fantasy. Is it a figment of imagination like the numerous superstitions that dominate different cultures. Imagine a world or society without the concept of afterlife, heaven or hell, or judgement day. Will it alter the mindset of people towards differentiating between good and bad, especially since there would be no punishment or reward propotional to our deeds, no heaven to reward our good and no hell to punish us for our bad deeds. Toeing the previous line of thought is God a mirage, an invention of imagination, out of the need that arose for devising a greater set of rules for society to live by. Rules that have far reaching consequences than civil or criminal law.

If it was firmly established that there is no afterlife, judgement day or heaven/hell would it still drive people to do the good deeds? Will our conscience be strong enough to make a sane judgement between good and bad without the concept of God, heaven or hell hanging over our head. What then will motivate people to do more good than bad, what will bring about a change of heart among hardened criminals? Gauntlet of emotions thunder past me while I contemplate these questions.

So then who are saints and godfathers, what is their role in society? That shall take an entire post another day because I have nothing but contempt and cynicism for them and those who believe them.

Robbed of thoughts

Does writing take away my skill for conservation. After I finished my previous post around noon, I realised that for most part of the next two hours I was tongue tied and my thinking cells were benumbed. It was like my entire emotions and my capability to emote was encapsulated in the words that I typed in the morning. And once I was done with my post, I could think no more, staring into the television, the images and the sounds rushed past me, my mind not registering. There was no way I was going to tackle Maxwell and his convoluted equations in this frame of mind.


I knewI enjoyed writing but never did I imagine that it might take away the need for conservation. Could I live without innumerable idle conversations that make up our pathetic excuse for life. What if I was a mute, would I miss conversations and interacting with people?

Morning musings, when philosophy is your companion

Like a hurricane lashing on the coast of Florida all Ive been wanting to do since discovering the blogging community was to write and write. And now write I must before my roomates wake up and demand their fair share of computer usage. Its a beautiful morning after the numerous snow storms and Im awake earlier than my roomates who wont be up for another couple of hours at least. I sleep late too but I wanted some peaceful time to work on my blog before my roomates getup and go about their mundane activities of checking their mails, not to mention the usual gossip of cinema and which bollywood actress decided to jump on the bandwagon of sleazefest.

It is an irony that our only links to India is via the occasional bollywood and kollywood cinema, however stereotypical and a cartload of crap they call movies, we still see them. With a glass of chocolate flavored milk in my hand (Im too lazy to make myself any coffee) and Maxwells equations I need to analyse for my upcoming midterms on mind, I browse through cricinfo and rediff pages for knowledge that I usually pick up from daily chatter with friends when I was back home. Do I miss India? not really because I have more to look forward here than back home. Would I settle out here? no way because however much you build a rapport with locals here we'll still be the Indian friend and not just friend.

Ahh the proverbial sleepers are turning and tossing already, its going to be yet another a long day. The physics of electromagnetics interspersed with discussions about arranged marriage and love marriage make for a yet another mundane day. In between I need to cook what would be our short lunch snack and tonights big dinner. Love marriage or arranged marriage, gosh that topic is as old as Coulombs law dictating the force of attraction between two unlike charges.

Unlike charges, you gotta be kidding me, two unlike souls linking up together for the rest of their lives. Believe me I have experienced it and I cant stand an ideologically different person for more than three months let alone three decades. Living single and straight and liking it, thats my philosophy. What do I have to look forward to? my books, my music, my writing and my research; not to forget my dreams.

While my roomates ponder and contemplate their plan for the next five years, it becomes increasingly clear how much we miss India. Money, it appears the only reason coming here for many. But how much money do I want, is one million dollars enough, or what will two cars and a beautiful bungalow back home do to my dreams, will it satisfy my urge to earn and spend. How much do I want out of life, how much do I want out of my education. My unanswered questions that I pose to life and myself, my roomates ask different questions of themselves; how different we are.

When I was young before I went to sleep, I wished that God would come in my dreams and show me the path that I need to walk and provide me the solution to the complex equation that is life. As I grew up I realised that the path Im going to chart is my own and will be walked in solitude. I embrace solitude and I quite enjoy it, but a companion, a friend who would walk hand in hand, I crave.

Dedicated to solitary dreamers!!!

My brush with Individualist(s)

"If you fail to rise above the mediocrity, you risk losing your individuality". I came across this statement when I was surfing blogs and being an ardent fan of Ayn Rand I more than eagerly agreed with it but what ticked me was would too much individuality or a drive to develop a sense of individuality, numb you and the people around you.

A wise dude once told me "You can do different things but dont try to do everything differently". Unless you are an entrepreneur, a journalist, a researcher or a job that uses up every ounce of your creative juice, take it easy on you and others guys. What pisses me off is that many of these individualists are invariably blind to their shortcomings. It is not surprising in that case that many of the individualists repeatedly fail to accept their misgivings but instead portray their inadequacies as the very quality that makes them unique. Fellas, just because its unique and nobody else does it it necessarily need not be cool.

It is funny how people view being unique, being different as something to be proud of rather than an inherent quality. For many people including me embracing ones identity is a metamorphosis that might take up the best part of a lifespan. Heres to those who feel constantly reinventing oneself is the only way of living.

Be open to views, opinions and ideas because I strongly believe that the next inspiration might be just around the corner and in the most unattractive package. A lot of lessons I learnt were not from books and word of mouth rather from the people Ive interacted with. Over the years every person Ive known or remembered have taught me very many things, more importantly how to be and how not to be. It is hardly surprising to me that many individualists often fall in the latter bracket.

Which brings us to the next group of people who form a subset of individualists, the self made man. To me the phrase self made man is full of contradictions quite like the quintessential honest politician. I believe that our idealogy is often built based on events we encounter or on our perception of these life altering events. So essentialy, our views and opinions are based on events affecting and not because one fine day we choose to be that way.

Finally, to all the individualits out there embrace your individuality and let others embrace it, dont thrust it upon them. I like to think that every person is a book waiting to be read, re-read and analysed but to all you individualists and self made men I have one piece of advice, nobody wants to read a comic in hardcover!!!!!

lara or tendulkar

lara or tendulkar......just pop this phrase to a group of people in india and you are bound to start an argument that would put most legislative assemblies to shame. make no difference, from corporate boardrooms to connaught circle to common bylanes you would evoke nothing short of a detailed discussion comprising statistics to techinical finesse and character.

to vast majority of indians tendulkar is no less than a demi god exalted to immortality. you think jordan created furore and chaos with announcements of return and retirement from the game, wait till you see how indians react to tendulkars retirement. people hang onto every piece of information that newspapers, radio channels and local tv throw at them. i bet after tendulkars tennis elbow and the subsequent diagnosis by newspapers there has been an increase in the cases of orthopaedics having to put up with "tennis elbow" complaints from young and old alike.

lara is by no means at a lower level when it comes to idolizing and fan following. but caribbeans have a lot of things on their mind like catching the wave and partying. like a surfer catching a wave lara burst onto the scene (i know its a cliche but theres reason to why they call it a cliche, because its appropriate and true!!!!) caribbeans have idolized as many times as they have burnt him at the stake. you love to hate him and loathe to love him. that to me is the defining when it comes to pure entertainment.

i aint no cricket expert my loyalties lay elsewhere but like all children i grew up on a staple diet of test matches and one day internationals. to me lara brings an avalanche of emotions when he comes to bat. true tendulkar has scored more hundreds, i think he scores like 1 hundred for every 10 ODI matches (its an approximation, dont get statistical with me, im past that age!!!) and lara scores like half of that. but not knowing what to expect, a hundred, a duck, a quick 20 or 30 he still gives me an eyeful to watch and anticipate.

true, laras personal and professional life is a disaster, but that is the beauty of watching an true genius. what is john nash without the controversies of homosexuality, mahatma gandhi without the controversies of partition or michael schumacher without the controversies of a tyrant on a race track. a genius gives you what nobody else does, a roller coaster ride, expect the unexpected, exaltation when he succeeds and exasperation when he succumbs.

you would love to curse lara when he gets out at inappropriate moments or fails but with tendulkar that is next to sacrilege. more reasons have been contrived for his untime dismissals that would put most politicians to shame. tendulkar is the perfect role model to todays young children and aspiring cricketers. in a country which is starved of true role models, a man with so much humility and simplicity after achieving so much, you would have to be blind or insane not to take your hat off to him.

to me tendulkar embodies all that is indian conservatism. minimal and precise footwork, neat crisp strokes, copy book shots and getting into zen mode while batting. lara, with his ungaily backlift, chaotic footwork is an example of a free spirit, a man who let things come to him naturally, a man whos comfortable with verbal bouncers and a man who would definitely take the time to convey what a failure the bowler is when it comes to doing his job.

i respect tendulkar saying that his batting matured with age but it make no sense. do u see agassi not returning quite as well because hes aged, do u see mcgrath bowling a foot short because hes aged or have you heard of nymphomaniacs giving up because they were too old for conservative society (the last one is quite inappopriate but mischevious, aint it?) but i would rather give my sleep to watch lara bat than tendulkar carve a hundred. why? because lara gives to me frustrating failures, awe inspiring innings', gives me more ups and downs the waves that lash his private beach. geniuses keep failing, give up what they do but when they come back they often have a point to prove or add finishing touches to what is already a masterpiece. i would rather anticipate a failing masterpiece which holds only promise but no fruition than a calendar drawing which is very beautiful but evokes no emotions!!!!!!

musings!!!

first post, just checking out. like all people i have too much to say and hope to keep blogging. i just realised today that i wouldnt have to put up with conversations and irritating mannersims while discussing my opinions hoping for constructive criticisms in these blogs. and i dont have a problem with authority; its authoritative behavior that pisses me off