Slipping

Too many unfinished things piling up... don't have the energy to deal with them. On the other side, small inessentials come one after another, a line of little boxcars in a goods train trundling across the level crossing of life, holding up everything. 

I'm looking for a trigger. A signal. Some kind of on-off switch that can get the flow going again. An event. A milestone. Marker. Something. 

Or I'm just lazy as fuck and I'm imagining things. 

Felt like this on the blog when I stranded my traveller self in Rohtang. 

Writer's Block of Life.

Harnessing ESP

This Saturday was a little lesson in recognizing and activating my extrasensory perception abilities. 

You know deja vu? that feeling of familiarity when something happens? That's a case of post-event recognition, where the recognition was subconscious and your mind recognized it when it happened. 

A more advanced form is that feeling - unease, or expectation, that something's going to happen. You know it when it does, but you knew something was going to happen anyway. Like reaching for the phone before it rings. 

The signals are there. If you can recognize them, you can precognize events. 

A friend of my sisters, spotted randomly in a mall, walking past. A phone call out of the from a guy last met at my sister's party. I was expecting a message from her from that point onwards - and sure enough, by the time I reached home, there it was. 

The universe is interconnected. Coincidences aren't chance. Nothing is chance. 

Dead Set, Reality Shows, and what they tell us about ourselves

If you appreciate zombie horror, hate reality shows (most of all Big Boss/Brother) and haven't seen Dead Set yet, please do asap. It's the TV equivalent of that scene from Office Space when the Three take their evil, uncooperative fax machine into a field and smash seven kinds of hell out of it with baseball bats. For all those times when you watched BB and prayed to god that he smite them with thunderbolts, plagues of boils, or just have the living dead tear them into pieces and eat them alive, you just got your wish. 

Dead Set delivers, and delivers how - but it's about more than just a highly graphic gorefest. (Seriously, don't watch it before or during meals.) It opens up a fascinating thought into what defines us as human. 

(Warning: Spoilers ahead)

There's always going to be that one stupid, greedy, cowardly, self-serving person in every situation who's going to get you all killed. You know who it is. You even have an idea of how he's going to do it. The question is - if the only realistic way to stop him is to kill him, would you do it? 

Altruism, the social glue that makes civilization possible, that makes us look out for one another and help one another including the weaker ones, would tell us no. Even if we knew we were wrong, we'd give them the benefit of doubt, keep giving them more and more rope... until they hung themselves and the rest of us with it. 

There's also that one crazy, ruthless, smart guy, who can save some - maybe most of you. At first glance, it's hard to tell the stupid and the smart apart, especially in a high-stress situation. Remember, he is as likely to get some of you killed. But the rest can survive. 

If you stay put and maintain status quo, in the long run, you will eventually run out of water, or food, or sanity. 

The question is - when all of civilization is gone, does it make sense to hang on to civility - or is that the only thing that prevents a total collapse, removes the last difference between you and the undead?

If you've read The Walking Dead, The Mayor chose the latter. And he was successful, more or less, except for some bad luck. Was he human, though? 

Think about it. 

my neurons are losing insulation

two trains of thought collided one day
i stood in the desert, in a dusty wind
sword in my hand, but i can't raise it
the logo hasn't been uploaded on it

wait, what?

A quiet moment in traffic

crawling shadows in the sodium
rain patters on the windshield
world smears into abstractions
swirling glowing chaos
traffic, streetlights, billboards
coalesce into psychedelia
engine off, lights out
waiting for the signal
my world is suddenly small
dim and quiet
a few feet across
bounded by metal and glass
all the universe
nothing beyond
sound of my breathing
water falling softly
dark
crawling shadows in the sodium
crawling across the dashboard
crawling across my hands
my face
i am in the machine
i am the machine
i am not me
i am another

the pattern changes
red to green
snarling to life
light radio wipers
world explodes into reality
moves on
shadows vanish
going home

another universe left behind
quiet and dark
crawling shadows in the sodium
beautiful

What if... they're all true?

Train of thought. The Great Flood. It's a myth in every civilization. I've found 267 independent stories from cultures across the world. Obviously it can't be true, because how would you do it, practically? Make a boat that big? Only yourself? In such little time? And would two of everything be able to repopulate a species without genetics handing out a massive ass-kicking to everyone a few generations with the recessive genes stick?

Maybe the problem isn't that we're taking it literally. 

Maybe the problem is that we're not taking it literally enough. 

267 written records found, from 267 cultures. How many more didn't have those records, or lost them over the couple of thousands of years?

How many Arks in every civilization, with the myths running together over time to make a single super-myth?

What if there really was a Great Flood, and every farm and homestead that could, loaded up all family and livestock, waited it out, and got on with life as usual when the waters went down - maybe several from each village? Genetic diversity maintained, Actual mechanics of the process looking a lot more likely. What if each 'Ark' was just the local high ground, to which every species eventually flocked, driven by the rising waters? Humans would get there first, as the natural predators on top of the food chain. They'd bring domesticated animals and pets. Parasites and vermin would follow, and then wildlife and it's natural predators.

It's not that the myth are wrong. I think they just need looking at keeping their age in mind. This didn't happen last century, it happened couple of millenia ago.It makes a difference.

Of meter jams and other suchlike stuff

It's going to be interesting to see how Meter Jam plays out tomorrow and beyond. It's definitely an interesting social experiment - but I want to step back from it a little, look at the larger perspective. 

The passengers: After years of frustration at being refused fares, the entire movement is a emotional outburst that's been building up for a while. When you're struggling to reach somewhere, and the auto refuses your fare, it does feel like a slap in the face. I think this is the real reason, more than just inconvenience - it's the insult, the feeling of having to beg for service and being turned away. 

The autowallas: On the other hand, sometimes they do have their reasons. They're not necessarily valid, logical ones, but more around an instinctive reaction - short-distance fares will give more pain in terms of traffic negotiation, finding a return fare, etc. And if you have a rigged meter, you do make more profit on a longer distance. 

Unfortunately, it's short-sighted. By progressively riling up and angering customers, the autowallas have painted themselves into a corner from where it's going to be a tough task to get out - a situation where they've demonized themselves. Yes, I do agree it won't affect business - yet. For every 50,000 people who refuse to use an auto on one day, another 250,000 people will use one. That's just plain economics, demand and supply. But those 250,000 won't necessarily like it, either. They're swallowing their pride and shelling out their money. The feeling will remain, rankle. 

And in the long term, they'll think of other solutions. 

Carpooling is not an answer. We've all tried it and we know the painful logistics it involves, especially when travelling under deadlines. 

Lifts is not the answer. All it takes is one rape or molestation to end the concept, and you and I both know there's people out there for whom this is a heaven-sent opportunity; just stick a poster on the car and roam around, searching for prey. 

Posters is not the answer. A few cars smashed by union thugs, and the posters will vanish overnight. 

So what is the answer? 

It's beyond the obvious ones above. It's better finance schemes for buying motorbikes and cars. It's having a gym with a shower in the office so you can walk or cycle to work. It's gigantic parking becoming mandatory in malls and offices. It's the Sea Link. It's the Tata Nano. It's the realization that sometimes, whatever money you make is not worth the effort you put in and the sacrifices you have to make to get it - sacrifices of family, of leisure, of peace of mind. It's the reducing attractiveness of an office in the heart of the city where residential rent is unaffordable - so you choose the next best job offer, closer to home. It's decentralization, easing traffic pressure. It's decentralization beyond the city, reducing migrants. 

It's about... balance. The city was successful, so it attracted a population. That population is making the city unsuccessful. When the city fails, the population will depart. It's not pleasant, but it's life. 

That's why Meter Jam by itself won't work, even if it is ten times it's current size and lasts for a month at a stretch. It's unsustainable. It's fighting a system bigger than autowallas, bigger than unions, bigger than politics. It's fighting a natural outcome of a city's life-cycle. Everything you do - every solution - will only treat the symptoms, not cure the disease. The disease gets cured in a longer timeframe than most of our lives. So it doesn't make sense for us. So we treat the symptoms, with initiatives stretched out over years, while the disease cures itself over decades and centuries. 

But it is definitely a important event - it's the blinking red light on the health chart of the patient Mumbai. It may not do much, but it's telling us very, very clearly that things are wrong. Now we need to figure out how to fix them. 

mortality

I saw it out of the corner of my eye, as he stepped into my blind spot from wherever he'd been. 

Just for an instant, the dark, cowled shape paused. A bony digit extended, pointed... no. 

Paused, returned. 

not now, I heard. 

not yet. 

And then he was gone, back into that space just behind me where I can't see him. 

It happened in a split-second. 

Then the normal reaction flowed out in a rush of incredulity, in a laugh born of equal parts the passage of fear, and relief. 

I could have died. And I live. 

Until next time. 

It's a very trivial thing. I'm already forgetting it. But I remember that one split-second. 

getting there...

Deep breath. 

It's working out. It's been hell month, with a few Big Things (moving, a wedding, RP's job closure, major financial jugglery, gathering possessions from across 4 locations across India) and lots of the Small Things that the Big Things involve - furniture, movers, packing, unpacking, setting up, gas, cable, net, maid, curtains, electricals, the inevitable falling sick, repairs, concalls, cleaning, cook, et al) but it's finally coming together. 

The Universe threw all it had at me and I ground it down. I outlasted it. 

There's still plenty left and plenty to come, and there's going to be a few more greys in the already much-expanded 'distinguished' patch on the left side of my head, but there's a change in the air. The sense of a corner having been turned, the peak crested. 

New beginnings. It's been a difficult birth but it's done. The mother and the baby are both fine. Now we see what we can make out of it. 

spring cleaning - the other side

On the first day, he said, "Let there be AC, and yea, chilling winds." And it was.

On the second day, he said, "Let there be a fridge, that my beer stays cold and my meat fresh," and it was so.

On the third day, he said, "Let there be Television, so I am entertained", and it was, and verily, it showed unto him The Wrath Of Khan.

On the fourth day, he said, "Let there be gas, and a stove, that I may enjoy a morning coffee," and by midnight, it was just so.

On the fifth day, he said, Let there be furniture, that I may sleep like a civilized being above the ground," and it was thusly ordered.

On the sixth day, he said, "Let there be a computer, that I may work from home if need be," and there was, not one, but two, formatted and delivering unto him 1.5 mbps at night.

On th seventh day... we shall find out.

Spring Cleaning - it never ends

The advantage of cleaning via moving is the chance to realize what you value. Apparently, I value junk. 

Last night was the emptying-out-my-PC-stuff night. Not the PC itself, of course - that'll be the last to be packed, supplying the soundtrack to the shifting... just the associated junk that accumulates around it. 

I'm blown away. A veritable forest of cables - A/V, extensions, USB cords, converters, patch cords, phone jacks. Headphones of every shape and size. Not one, not two, but five MP3 players with in various stages of breakdown. Gamepads, one PS2 with a USB adapter, the other wireless bluetooth. A wifi dongle. A bluetooth dongle. Card reader. Joystick. Wireless adapters. Webcam. Three  ancient cellphones. A USB cable intended for something truly monstrous, by the shape of it's other end - and I have no idea what it is. Those tine, tiny master/slave connector thingies. A burnt-out motherboard in Iron Man colors. TV tuner. A box of PC screws. A pair of wireless headphones, the radio versions. USB fan, from that time when the PC room fan broke down and repairing it was too much of a pain. External hard disk adapter/case. Plugpoint adapters. 

I packed it all. Hey, most of it still works in some form... it's like a giant, unwieldy, electronic jigsaw. One day it will all be assembled into something awesome. 

Which will then probably gain sentience and tear me from limb to limb, according to Shelley's Law. 

How could they leave without telling us??

a little trip down memory lane, tonight. some beer, a lot of remembrance.
it's been eight years, and it's unfair.
we always had boundaries. a clear dividing line. a phase of life ends, another begins, and there's no confusion. an exam, a holiday, a trip, and a complete change in the way life was. it was a clear, simple time.
it all ended in 2002.
the last eight years have been... mushed. slowly, imperceptibly, things changed, people changed, circumstances changed.
people who swore never to be slaves to the cell now own one.
people who were always supposed to be jungli became civilized.
people who were always supposed to smoke, quit.
people who were, were icons, dammit, gained weight, shaved, cut their hair, settled down.
groups fragmented, faded away.
all the things we swore we'd do, became less and less important.
bikes have been sold, or abandoned. cars have been bought. credit cards. emi's.
places that were packed until they threw us out are empty at midnight.
weekends are slept away, the high point being a movie.
slowly, insidiously, time steals it all.
it wasn't supposed to be like this. When something died, we knew it, and we knew what we were getting in return. Every sacrifice came with a reward.
I feel betrayed by time today. it came, and it stole almost a decade of my life and gave nothing back except memories. the good times we had, slipped away in silence, and they never even stopped to say goodbye. tonight, it's just you and me, and a long, long shadow that stretches away behind us, the dark stake that's pinned us to the ground.
I feel... lost, sometimes. where did everyone go? 
is this what it's supposed to be like? wandering about blindly in a darkening room, while everything you love vanishes into the dusk? as dreams die?
I do not begrudge the passage of time. It's natural, inevitable. What I hate, and what I feel shocked, angered, saddened by, is the way it just left without a party, without a whimper, just faded away. I feel emptied out, emptied with the knowledge that something I thought I had all along wasn't there at all for a long time. That I was dancing on a dream, one that softly evaporated in the morning, leaving just a confused sense of happiness and regret.

Where d'ye think you're going? get your ass back in here! leave if you must, but do me the courtesy of acknowledging the time we had, tell me that it had been good.
Let me see what happens next. I'm tired of flailing about in the dark.

Spring Cleaning: (Paradigm) Shifting

The Universe is with you, in the way that the guy who pushes you into the deep end of the pool is more or less moving in the same direction and is (almost) by your side. 

I took the first step in initiating Phase 1 of The Ultimate Cleanup Operation - of moving house - by arranging for an alternate and telling my landlord I will be vacating in 2 months. Promptly, and out of the blue, the plan got shot to hell by a phone call from HR - the company's allotted me a flat. Chances are, I need to prepone the move now - subject to approval by higher (Mrs.) authorities, of course. 

But it's still good. People push you into the pool so you get refreshed, woken up, cleaned, and generally snapped out of whatever rut you were in. I'm seeing a pattern, a plan here. A phase of life is ending and on it's last legs - time to move on. 

online identities

A lot of pre-modern cultures shared a belief that photographs can steal your soul - trapping something as essential and personal as your face in a magic box and spiriting it away. So would mirrors... during funerals, mirrors would be covered. 

You could consider it a ridiculous belief, but belief it is - the subject matter doesn't matter, what matters is your faith, your psychic investment in that abstract. Caught by a sudden, unexpected flash, Tribesman X worries about his soul, Brand Manager Y worries about revenue loss due to IPR abuse and trademark violation, Celeb Z sees a loss of image and star value... we all worry. We worry about some intangible, indefinable thing being taken away from us... yet we put it right back out there every chance we get, in other media. 

How much of ourselves doesn't even belong to us anymore? Our lives, images, plans, feelings, hopes, dreams, triumphs and disasters... all out there, all for the world to see. To respond to. To discuss among themselves about. 

When you ride a tiger, you can't get off. We aren't riding a tiger. We're riding a kraken, an island on the back of a whale, blissfully unaware of where it's taking us... 

One can say that a digital profile is as much a part of the personal self as any insubstantial notion of the mind, psyche, soul... whether it resides in the brain, the heart, the liver... or a server farm in Norway. But I believe there's a fundamental difference. A policy change in Palo Alto should not reduce my sense of self-worth. Nor should a random comment, like (or lack of them), etc. Yet - they do. We post. They respond. We re-respond. 

But more than that... why do we place so much into this? Time that will never come back. Thought. Emotion. For what? If we enjoy sermonizing from our soapboxes, we should do it knowing why we're there. 

Let's not become carried away in collective groupthink. 

Start asking Why. Start understanding what you get... and what you lose... and if it's worth it in the end. 

metaphors

the sun is climbing slowly towards the zenith. the day is getting hotter, and even the breeze is gone. sweat streams off me, and the weight of the bag is getting heavier - which is weird, considering I've been eating and drinking out of it for a while now. 

it was dark when i woke up, and i'm thinking back of those few hours - packing, timepassing, making the calls and making plans. it's always a tough call, that one, when you pack - should you be prepared for everything, at the cost of a bag that weighs 19 tons and screws you throughout the whole trip? Or blithely pack bare essentials, and god help you if anything goes wrong? i generally tend towards the former. and it's telling, now. sure, it feels good to see the smiles on the faces of the people who ran out of water long back and who you helped from your supplies - but smiles don't make chafed shoulders easier to bear. 

trying to peer ahead, up, look for some shade - how much more do we need to climb? the sun is blinding. hard to see, now. everything was so clear at dawn - a world exploding with possibilities, and me fresh as a daisy and raring to go. there's a patch of trees ahead - i think i'll stop for a bit, take the bag off. catch my breath. 

some views have been spectacular, though. worth the trip. i should've brought a better camera. 

and people wander off all over the place. half the time somebody's gone off on a trip of their own, getting lost, calling to show something... exploring slows the group, but makes for a better memory. 

wish it would rain a bit. or at least some clouds. 

damn, i need to lose weight. all the samosas in the morning are making themselves felt. 

not leading the group anymore - somewhere around the middle-end, i guess. doesn't matter. as long as i don't lose the way - i know where we're all going. some might just get there first... and do what? take a nap? i'd prefer to see more of the trek... after all, getting there is half the fun. 

unless you're stumbling along in the dark, scared, lost and alone. that's not much fun if you can't handle it. 

and the afternoon is going to be even hotter, if we don't find a shadier path. need to remember that. take it slow, but not too slow. 

oh, well - take that as it comes. concentrate on that shady bit ahead. it's coming up soon. 

wsfgythyd

in one hand, i hold a fresh-from-machine espresso in a paper cup. the other, a plastic bottle i just filled from the watercooler. condensation forms and fades in the dehumidified, conditioned air. conflicting signals, burn and freeze. imagined thermoelectric drift. i feel awake. 

strange dreams. a party, a relocation, old places, new faces... ever thought about how two familiar aspects of life can become bizarre if brought together? 

caffeine buzz. 

sometimes, the bkc stretch can almost compensate for the juhu bridge. but nothing can make the andheri bit of the w.e.h. anything other than the drive up to the gates of of the city of dis. 

i like early mornings. the time doesn't matter, it just has to be before it gets used by other people. before sunup, before rush hour, before office timings, before the movie start. on that side of reality opposite the langoliers, existence gets you high. little things. smells. highlights off chrome. sunshine.  

Spring Cleaning: Revolutions

Looks like the cleanup is going to happen the way it's always been happening while I was growing up - by taking each and every single individual item in the house, one by one, wiping it down, and popping it into a box. What's left over at the end of it all is dust, dirt, stains, junk, trash, and memories. 

Then all the boxes are picked up, moved a short distance, and as if by magic, a new life begins. One where all surfaces are clean, walls are painted, all your stuff consists only of working, neatly labelled items, and the air is full of pregnant possibility. There are no rules that say, 'put this here', 'this goes there', or 'this is out of place'. Everything is out of place, which is the best place to be in. 

The machine's been overhauled, lightly sprayed with oil, polished, put back together and is raring to go. 

Now I just need the boxes. 

Are non-vegetarians evil?

Had an interesting debate few days ago while tearing a chicken patty to shreds with my evil pointy teeth. A staunch vegetarian stared at me for a few minutes, a look of disgusted horror on his face, and asked me if I knew how chickens were ill-treated before being killed - their feet being burned off because of being confined among their own guano, etc. I told him that's why I didn't eat the feet, and he got up and left the table... but it got me thinking. 

Consider the chicken. It's the most populous bird on planet Earth. It has no talons, can't fly, is fat, slow, stupid. It doesn't breed fast, and isn't particularly poisonous or even particularly bad-tasting. By all logic, if left to itself, it would have gone the way of the dodo. Yet, among birds, it's a spectacular success - because it linked it's evolutionary success with humans. 

As a species, did it make the right decision - guaranteeing it's success as a whole, while sacrificing the lives of the individuals? For as long as humans eat chicken, and are sitting on top of the food chain, chickens will not be extinct. Nor will any other domesticated animal. Nor will the scavengers, the vermin. In fact, they will evolve along multiple lines, filling several ecological niches created by Man. 

So the question is - by guaranteeing it's success, by ensuring it's immortality as long as the (non-vegetarian) human race exists - are us meat-eaters evil? 

Spring Cleaning: Part 2

The Cupboard

Threw out a whole bunch of clothes - stuff I don't like, doesn't fit, is worn out, and even some stuff that's been lying there for a while... hey, if I haven't worn it for a year, I doubt if I'm going to be wearing it tomorrow. Ethnic formals wrapped in bags and shoved into deep storage. Ditto, sheets and blankets. Socks sorted by color into large ziplocs. Belts, handkerchiefs, and watches in their own individual plastic trays. 

The Den

Do I use even one of these 2 beds cluttering up the place? No? Then why not use one as storage space for the bike? Transfer mattress, dump all of R's gym stuff on the window-set and bike goes up on the box... immediate space. Need to dump some of that gym stuff, hasn't been used at all... 

But... it's feeling like a losing battle. No matter how much I try, the essential mess - the clutter still comes through. All the lofts and deep storage is stuffed to bursting, cupboards full, shelves full... and there's still, so many things everywhere... crowding me, disrupting... have to move on. Have to find a better way to deal with this. 

Spring Cleaning: Part 1

The Blog Sidebar

Gone. The malfunctioning blogroll, the useless subscribe options, the ads, the logos, all the cool cute stuff. I don't miss it. I barely remember what was there or why I even had it... mostly useless. Some experiments, now dead and done. Mostly, extremely cringeworthy.

Haloscan

What started this? I think it was - Haloscan. After two or three years of ignoring buggy code, I finally got down to it and wiped it. Lost some comments, but who cares.

I felt light. I felt... freed.

Torrents and Games

I left the PC off last night. Ferelden can take care of itself for a while. No torrents either. I've barely started seeing the stuff I've downloaded. What's still coming in, can wait a little longer. In fact... maybe I should just leave it off.

Went for a walk instead. Listened to music. I like this feeling.

Life is too complicated, too messy. The circumstances will color perception. The junk outside will infect my mind. Has infected my mind.

It's time... to exorcise.

Spring Cleaning

I, am in, a spring-cleaning mood. 

I usually let it finds its outlet in

• Cleaning up my room
• Getting the bike serviced
• Formatting my hard disk
• Updating my CV
• Changing flats
• Going on a holiday

But this time... I want to do more than just that. I want to do all of the above. And more. 

Dangerous times. 

Feel... heavy. Weighed down. Too many things. Too much to worry about. 

Ballast. 

The trick to never have any regrets is to never look back. If I take an axe to the ropes now... I will need to remember this. 

If, of course, it comes to the axe. I need to backup first. 

What the hell - it's good Feng Shui anyway. 

Watch this space. 

Some more lucid-dreaming experiments

An interesting discovery - While I know that falling asleep in partial light triggers longer, more vivid and better-structured dreams (with correspondingly far high chances of taking control), it appears that the light needs to be present only at the point of falling asleep; yesterday's experience couldn't have been longer than half an hour, yet the memory lasted far longer. 

Which raises an interesting point - after the REM phase, what is the mind doing? Building dreams triggered off in the light-triggered REM? For the entire night? Or is the REM phase the start and finish of the dream, with the mind switched off for the rest of the time? That won't explain the intermeshing of the real world into dreams - like alarms, people shaking you awake, other noises that awaken you, or even the screaming nightmares at 3 AM (long after REM is done)... or are these cases of an REM phase restarting, or persisting? 

Needs more research. 

An interesting aside - videogames (or any kind of games) are naturally predisposed to be dream-matter because the subconscious recognizes the rules it plays by - and superimposes those rules, controls, and imagery (skins, if you will) in a manner that I guess is very similar to what the games themselves use - databases, scripts, CSS and skins. 

Last night, for instance - was a dream about what combination of tactics in my Dragon Age characters would work best in various combat situations. The healer at a distance, pumping up the fighters; the tank to distract unwelcome attention from the healer; the mage to target and incapacitate the bosses temporarily while the weaker enemies are disposed of, etc. And since a videogame is essentially an artificial-reality construct, it was a dream about a dream. 

And the game in question is about a main character who's been trapped in a lucid nightmare herself; so it's a dream of a dream of a dream. LOL.