I am Monk, The Patron Saint of the Socially Retarded

Have you ever wondered the benefits of praying to a Patron Saint? It is a very catholic thing, but along these lines are my thoughts driven today.

I am Monk, the Patron Saint of all the socially retarded beings. I know I do not have a name in particular, for I am not named. Now don't feel sorry for me. It's only my preference to remain unnamed that had made me being called 'Monk' among the masses. If you are thinking of the show on the USA network, you got it all wrong. On this particular day, I am inclined to tell another story, not anything about me, but of particular individuals who are under my guardianship.

This happened not so long ago in solar years or rather human years, as I like to call it. This individual is one of my favorites. She had once shown great promise to be an uber nerd.

"Well, you must download back orifice, I insist."

Her friend stares at the CDC site and after reading the first few sentences, "Why ever would I want to download a thing from that site?"

"You see, that's about the freedom of speech, right."

"Nope, I'm not downloading anything from a site that writes such profanities."

"But, but," she stutters, "that program shows the weakness of 9x, of how a single user OS can be brought down because of the lack of consideration of its designers."

"Bah, why would I want to run it on my system? Just so that you can log into it and overwrite my system folder with a README file with the line '1 pwn j00' ?"

"I swear, I won't do that."

"You see, it's very hard to believe you after your last April fool's prank."

My protégé looked scandalized on that, with her eyes dilated as wide as saucers. Now let's fast forward a bit more into her school years.

She walks to her class through the hall way, where some of her class mates are lingering just outside the said room. As she ventures into the room, a few of them tries to stop her, by calling her in hushed voices. But she just shows them the odd equipment in her hand and mouths, "I'll be back after I drop this at my desk." Once she dropped the 'stuff' at her desk, she takes a look around. That's when she notices the only other two people in the room, enjoying quiet conversations among themselves. Oblivious to the fact that they were a couple and that rest of the class had emptied the room just for their sake, she asks the couple, "Why is everyone else outside?"

Her lab-mate answers, "We don't know."

She nods an alright to that and leaves the room to join her mates. "Why would you interrupt them?" one of them teases her.

"What did I interrupt?"

Without much further delay after another round of discussion, the couple in the room ends their tete-a-tete and one of them comes to confront the group, and unknowingly rescues the current victim.

She says, "It's not what you think. We are only friends."

"Yeah, yeah... we are only 'just' friends," repeats some of the group as the teasing continues. I must tell you at this point that it was only my poor protégé that bought her lab mate's mate's words at face value. Aye, that couple were indeed married with a special marriage license at a later point in time, which may be considered quite recent at this time, as I tell you this story.

You see, despite being nineteen and brilliant, my protégé was absolutely naive when coming to social standings and rituals. One of those days when she was walking back home with her friend LB, she had a poker face.

"Something bothering you, dear?", asks a very concerned LB.

"Yeah, you see I tried to say hello to my friend, and he ignored me."

"He must not have seen you."

"No, he did. He gave me a look as if I am some kind of murderer."

LB finding her friend still in deep contemplation, ventures further,"There's something else bothering you?"

"Well," she pauses, "There were a bunch of guys at the lab pointedly laughing at me today."

"You are being self conscious," LB says very much surprised.

"They made me feel self conscious, because it looked like they were laughing at me," she sighs.

"Come on now, it only looked like that. You don't go assuming things without proof. They are very respectable."

"So you saw it as well."

"Yes, I did."

"There were many others around. But they were only," she leaves her thought incomplete and walks in dejected silence.

After a little while, she says dejectedly,"I haven't done any pranks in past few months. So they can't be laughing about that."

LB laughs at that, "Weren't you the one who said a few weeks back that someone stared at your face in a very disturbing manner?"

"Yeah, what about that?" SC ponders out loudly,"Oh," she says as something dawns on her.

LB laughs, "It took you a while to figure out."

"But that was rude."

"Laughing or staring?" LB's laugh seems to be contagious.

"Laughing," and a small smile dawns on SC' face.

"But you don't like him or anything?"

"How am I to know? I don't know him at all."

"Good. Leave it at that. He doesn't suit you anyway."

"Alright."

"So what lesson did you learn today?" LB made the final question as they were getting close to the bus station.

"Never make eye contact," SC says.

You see, my protégé learnt the lesson, what many females in engineering school learns the hard way. There are many theories as to how this practice of "avoiding eye contact" evolved in the engineering schools. Some deep thinkers have made profound remarks about that. Anyways, I digress. The point I were trying to make is there are such members as SC in the current day society requiring my guardianship and there will always be no matter how much the "society" evolves.

La Halle

The lone wall flower was at the corner,
As people pass by La Halle street
Without a care for the passer by.
The lone man sat at the square,
His eyes closed and arms wide open,
Basking in the glory of the sun.
Juveniles strange and high, silly sallied
and dallied with the dandy women
that strutted by La Halle street.

Pass the piers and the wharf
comes the green cars to La Halle
where the homeless are harbored
when stars come out in the night unseen
amidst the haze that covers the sky.

This is La Halle where flush and pauper,
tourists and locals pass by;
Open to all who care to stop by.

Combustible snow

Eureka! Eureka! Yes, I found it, the solution to the energy crisis in cold tundras, a solution that can be used in North Americas, Siberia and the likes! It is nothing but combustible snow!

Think of the possibilities! Look at the availability of the snow when the jet stream dumps tons of it in the tundras! This is definitely 'the' solution to the vast energy crisis that the human race is about to face! err, I mean North Americas is about to face.

This is the proposal I am working on currently. Isn't it exciting to find out that there is no need to depend on oil from Middle East or Venezuela, but all that we have to wish for is more snow! Yeah, the combustible snow? Although the theory that combustible snow can solve the energy crisis may seem as not viable as it violates the laws of thermodynamics, it is not. I am currently writing the proof that it doesn't violate it.

Let me give you a brief outline of the proof. You see when the density of snow is greater than the density of water, the potential energy of snow becomes greater than the potential energy of snow in liquid state such as you see in slush. Now considering the factor that hydrolysis can indeed run a car engine why not combustible snow with higher potential energy than slush, run a car?

Addendum: I wrote this crackpot theory when I got bored and were stuck indoors when it was all snowed outside.

Little Maria - Part 1

It's summer holidays again. And little Maria has fallen sick again. Being a five year old can be oh so bothersome. It was nearly 8 months ago, when nana Theresa had come to see her and had given her a nice dab of an emollient cream with esoteric spices for the little girl's frequent episodes of infections. She had screamed that time, for it burnt her throat and neck. She had earnestly wished at that time for a better treatment. She had also wished on several of those parties, for the ice cold sparkly fruit drinks that were neatly arranged on the drinks table. As expected, she was consistently denied and shooed to her bed room to take rest by her mother. So the four year old wished for a day when she be allowed to eat ice creams and drink whatever cold sparkly water she wished for, to her heart's content.

She stayed in the car staring at the leaves of the tamarind tree that offered shade underneath its green canopy. The light breeze swaying the green leaves offered a small respite to the summer heat. Uncle Paulose sat on the low concrete base wall that bordered the tree, smoking his favorite tobacco. Little Maria got out of the car, after all she could not be made to sit on the same spot for more than ten minutes, when it seems there's no one to watch over her.

"Where do you go, li'l girl?" asked Uncle Paulose.

"Oh, no where," she said as she walked around the car to the other side of the tree away from Uncle Paulose' tobacco smoke.

She picked up a twig, and poked and prodded around the dirt and leaves and grass. She followed some of the fire ants and even picked one of them and made it walk through her twig. After she got a bite, she put away her twig, and walked around the tree restlessly staring at the long concrete stairs that led to the nearby church. She wistfully looked at the church stepping on to the tree base and craned her neck trying to catch sight of the huge ornate church doors.

"Uncle Bernard will be back soon to take you to the town," said Uncle Paulose.

"Did you see Brother Johny's bride? Is she pretty?" the little girl asked with insatiable curiosity.

"No, I haven't seen her. May be we will see her when they come out after the service," said Uncle Paulose pointing at the giant teak doors.

After a few more minutes their wait was over. The wedding party exited the church through the front door to the nearby parish hall for the wedding reception. The girl strained her neck to catch sight of the bride, but all she could see was a blur of white. Little Maria sighed resignedly. Her cousins had wanted to come this wedding. But they couldn't go, as she was sick her uncle decided that it would be unfair for her to wait and feel miserable. Her cousins and her brother would play around the church yard and enjoy the wedding feast while she morosely sat in the car waiting for their return. And all these, because uncle Bernard had offered little Maria's father to take her to the hospital for the doctor's visit after the wedding.

The summer breeze played its whimsical tricks on the little girl as it brought with it a waft of scintillating aroma of the delicacies served at the feast. Little Maria was hungry. She looked forlornly at the parish hall where the dinner was being served. Her shoulders drooped as she resigned to the fact that she is not going to get any nourishments any time soon. Uncle Paulose pitied the little girl. He soon caught sight of her uncle walking towards them. "Look who all are coming!" he exclaimed.

Little Maria smiled with delight as she saw brother Johny walking towards them along side her uncle. She was well pleased to see the groom. Brother Johny is always very kind, she thought. "How do you fare, li'l girl?" he asked as soon as he saw her.

"I am alright, although a bit hungry," the child replied in all honesty.

"You need not worry, we'll soon be at the hospital and you can get your favorite sweets from the canteen there," her uncle lied through the teeth.

Brother Johny patted her head and said,"Get well soon dear."

She smiled like a cherub, "That I will."

Within a couple of minutes uncle Bernard said his farewell and the company of three were soon on their way to town. Little Maria pulled down her window glass and waved at Brother Johny. She was very happy at her little fortune of meeting the groom on his wedding day.

Her uncle soon insisted that she close the windows putting a damper on her spirits and the matter that he drank water from his pet bottle without offering her even a little didn't help at all. It only made her feel like an unwelcome little body of responsibility. She stared at the bottle for a little while wishing that her uncle would offer her some. She wanted to ask, but her uncle seemed to be ignoring her, staring out through windows. She did not know how to throw a temper tantrum, so she too stared out through the window and was soon distracted by the sights of the town.

When the car arrived at the hospital parking area, little Maria was in better spirits in the hopes of food and water and meeting her father.

A pepper concoction

When I were a little kid, I used to fall sick quite frequently because of one or the other infections of tonsils. Some of the well-knowledged relatives of my parents would advise them on putting me on special esoteric treatment with spices, mostly ginger, turmeric, black pepper and the likes. Naturally when I were daubed with an evil spice concoction that can cause scalding, I would protest 'loudly' even in my weak state.

But I will not deny that a spiced tea is good for soothing sore throat. So here I am, suffering another sore threat episode and I wanted ginger tea. But unfortunately I didn't have any ginger root or powder. So I ended up concocting a different tea.

This is how to concoct it. Boil less than a pinch of black pepper in a cup of water on a sauce pan over the stove top. Add a teaspoon of black leaf tea(not the pellets) to the boiling water, and allow the tea to steep for a couple of minutes. Strained the tea and pour it to a cup. Add a spoon of lemon juice(optional) and a spoon of honey. Enjoy the soothing hot pepper tea!

An ode to a dog

Everyday I come to my master, with a trick to please him, just for a pat, a sign of friendship.
Everyday he throws me a bone, and sends me on a hunt, for to him, I'm just a distraction.
I sought a soul to befriend, he found a hound to pass his time with.

But today as I breathe my last breaths, I wonder whether I won his friendship.
Aye, I did, for he threw me a bone nearly everyday when he didn't forget me.
Now that I'll be just another leaf that fall in the autumn, I say I've no regrets.

... women are like cats

One of my friend's suggested that I should write just for the sake of writing. With nothing else in mind at my current frame, rather write on a random topic and ramble on about it. Because of the resident cats at the place where I live, I am fascinated by the topics that relate to the said creature. One of the lines which I often wonder about is how it is accepted to a certain level that women are quite cat like. I stumbled upon this article from 1906 NY Times. Honestly, it made me laugh. Well, that doesn't imply that I agree with the popular(or notorious if you like to think so) notion of cats and women being alike.

If one is rather more observant, they might say that pet animals can be quite spoilt. The resident feline often reaches high levels of peskiness, but the resident dog is no different either. I often find myself in position, where I'm forced to master the arts of allurement when it comes to make the dog come out or go in his pen. Well, I must also add on, it's not just me, who has the least to deal with the said canine, but also Jack and Marsha, as well as Jeri. I would rather say, that the dogs are trained to get a reward whenever they are expected to do something. But at the same time, if one consider who draws the attention of both the feline and the canine beings, it is the one who feeds them. Obviously, when Marsha calls out, they know that treat is on the way.

However, this is only a singular case, and I can not use it to establish anything. There's not much to it, than it being a myth, for my rational mind, things like these are just a long winded expression of something else, which might have happened years ago and have lost its significance today, because the original meaning is lost. Then again, there are several weird results shown in some studies like you may get to read here.

May be, I should send out a request to Myth Busters after searching its forums if they have done an episode on it yet.