Across oceans

Yet another stream of incoherent/coherent(take it the way you want) thoughts ...

at shores of time,
together they played
twisting the mantle of time.

vast was the pool
of the ocean blue,
that they tried to empty.

time stayed still
with their laughter-fill,
but then it came
with a warp
torn apart swiftly,
thrown into the mantle.

she laments still
at shores of time,
'O brother! O brother!
My friend of old'

across oceans
souls still search,
for their friend of old,
yet unbeknown.

Strange dreams

Once again I fell asleep on the couch, in my desperate effort(which later turned out to be not so desperate) to fall asleep. It was pretty cold, but still I managed to sleep without a blanket. That's the only reason I could think of, for the strange phenomenon of remembering a dream (people don't normally remember their dreams). But there was one line, which I said to myself that I remember in particular about the dream with a sheet of paper in hands, 'Hey, this is too funny. I should take a blank sheet of paper and write about it'. And I believe that's what I am precisely doing now, though technically it's just typing.

Osama Bin Laden and the pressure cooker

Yes, that's the title of the story inspired by my dream. It's alright, you can laugh. Part one of the story goes like this ....

'It's so unusually cold', I said to myself as I tossed and turned in my bed at my home in the tropics, unable to sleep and disgruntled, complaining to myself.

'Ding dong', there rings the door bell. 'Oh well, that gives me a reason to get up, this early', I said to myself staring at the wall clock. The clock hands showed the time to be precisely 6:15 . 'Whoever is at the front door, has great timing', I went on rambling to myself as I dressed. And being my usual self, I dashed down the stairs to get to the door.

That's the way I normally get to 'the door' from my upstairs room, back at home. O, I miss this!

Without doing any harm to myself I stood at the landing of the stairs, staring at the ornate doors still pondering, 'Who could be the bugger on the other side of the door?' I moved to the door, unbolted and unlocked it, opening the heavy door slowly to the visitor. Wolla, there stood my younger cousin who had just finished high-school that spring, and his band of brothers.

Even with my natural quality of precarious lacking in observational skills, I still managed to see their disarray of clothes. 'Well. come on in', even as I said it my cousin Tom looked a tad embarrassed and I continued in my most amicable tone(mimicking after my father), 'What are you waiting for, another grant invitation?'

The three teenagers filed in through the front door with my cousin trying to give a logical explanation to their ramshackled appearance after a night out. 'We missed the last bus home, after the cinemas yesterday night. But then as we wondered what we'll do, we saw the bus here and boarded it', said Tom.

'And you boys spent the night in the bus?', I replied, rolling my eyes.

'No', he lied through his teeth. From the expression on their faces, it was evident that those gangly boys had done something close to that. 'We slept on the porch', he said nervously eying outside.

'Oh, then you must have seen my ma and pa, leaving early', I said still observing the nervous train wrecks before me, 'Why didn't they let you inside?'

'Hmm, well, we went to grab a cup of tea from the store. So we missed them', Ayaz helped on his faithful friend.

'There is no point in getting them to contradict themselves this early during the day. I can catch them at it later. Besides they look exhausted', so thinking I inquired, 'Why don't you be seated? I'll get you some breakfast.'

As I was about to steer myself to the kitchen, George asked, 'Can I have some milk, please? If possible warm?'

I gave an apologetic look at the boys who were huddled on the sofa, rubbing their hands together, 'You must be cold. Let me get you some blankets.' After bundling the boys in light blankets I inquired, 'Would you boys like to have cocoa in your milk?' With their mute nodes, I left for the kitchen to make some breakfast of pancakes and toast and tea and hot cocoa.
This is a most unlikely thing to happen when I were at home.

While serving the breakfast I gently prodded them with light questions as to why they were really at my home. I glued together, the few bits of clues that they accidentally dropped through their answers and found that my prodigious brother is going to give my family a surprise visit that day. Still with what little the teens said, there wasn't a definite answer to where they spent the night. And Tom did not trust me with secrets as much as he trusted my brother, for I was plain outrageous to him, simply because I shared the necessary facts with the older generation. For this reason alone, the boys in the family like to keep their sisters in the dark.

Well, there is some truth in this part.

To be continued ...

Mysteries of cathood

The feline creatures, that walks the earth, what mysteries do they have to reveal? The scientists over years have observed and recorded the behavior of these creatures in their natural habitat. From big cats that walk the jungles of Africa and Asia to bobcats and lynx that prowl the Midwest to the mischievous feline pets that adorns our homes, what do they have in common beside being in the same family and have similar survival extincts?

These days I am learning much from the resident feline of Stroade residence, the cat who talks back. The cat named meow-meow was so called because whenever she hears a human saying meow, she meows back. A very social animal that seeks attention and company, can often be annoying when she jumps over or onto someone when he/she is amidst a nap. Meow-meow and me are no exceptions to this phenomenon. She comes and curls up next to me late in the night, while I am sleeping, at times preventing me from turning around in sleep.

Pesky, purring cat!
She beats with her tail,
And how fair is that?

And that is, what happens during the day between the cat and me. To avoid this pesky situation, I made up my mind to play with Toby, Jeri's resident dog. The first day was a success. The cat didn't approach me. Second day, she seemed to keep her distance a bit, but within half an hour she changed her mind. As usual, she was curling up next to me, while I am working. Later I decided on a different strategy, to let her sniff on my hands after I petted Toby. She seemed to be not so keen, to come and crawl on me, but rather contented to be sleeping on the couch next to me.

My experiments are still evolving. Still I wonder whatever made Robert Heinlein say, 'Women and cats do as they please; and men and dogs should relax and get used to this idea.'

birthdays or begetting days?

I do not know, which one to celebrate. Honestly the thought of celebrating makes me homesick! Besides there is that feeling of loss of childhood, and emotions run high.

I was one of those kids who remained shut in a room on their birthday, lamenting the loss of another year of life, and the approach of adulthood. Now I realize why I did so. There is a tendency in us to prevail in the present and resist changes. The degree of it varies from the conservatism to fundamentalism. The forms of conservatism vary from that old lady who tries to appear young, to the person who practices and preaches radical religious ideas. This tendency to resist change are seen at places where it is required to revert to old agrarian way and at places where the change influxed by western ideas in the oriental societies are met with resistance. Have anyone wondered the reasons for that? Although I mention only two ends of a spectrum, the human tendency to resist change is universal. The reasons need to be investigated further.

Now coming back to the point, I have got rid of the habit of moping by myself. And I am debating on whether I should or shouldn't celebrate my begetting day next year. That is my not so formulated plan for some embarrassing conversations with my parents ;)

Pieces of moon

It was 2 in the morning, yet she was not able to sleep. She tossed and turned, as she tugged her sheets. When she realized there was no point in remaining on the bed, she got up and walked to the table where she had started to work on another jigsaw puzzle, a picture of a moonlit night. She looked at the printed image on the box, and decided she wanted to put together the pieces of moon. She kept on searching among more than 900 pieces, where most of them were itty bitty pieces of clouds and moonlit surfs. As she kept on meticulously searching for those pieces, she wondered, "How ridiculous! Why am I trying to find pieces of moon among the clouds?"

The Carver by The Lake

It was not beginning, yet it was time, the time for the beginning of His children. And He was by the Lake none beside Him except His most precious thought, His Wisdom. She alone watched Him as He carved and none besides her saw Him as He labored. While He carved, she brought Him more clay. [1]

“When they awake, they will be awestruck at the sight of stars.”
“Indeed.”
“Varda has done her task well. But will You not reveal Your Grace to them?”
“All in time. They have a journey to make.”
“You will let them stumble, won't you?”
“They have a choice to make. That is why I kindled them.”[2]

She sighed and went on to weave about Eruhíni a shelter from the extremities of Arda. [3]

Knowing His thought, He said, “You remember Melkor's hunt for you, don't you?”
She once again sighed, “How can I forget! When he should have looked within himself, he searched in the void.”
“You know, he will search for Your children to quench their Flames.”
“Indeed.”
“Will you not guide them, when they seek it?”
“You are there.”
“I can not help them once they are corrupted, unless they turn to You.”
“I know.” [4]

Once again, He resumed His work. As He looked at the sleeping forms of His children, He smiled and the Love that shone in His eyes surprised her.

“You know well that You never cease to amaze me.”
“I like surprises, and I never cease to surprise.”

Wisdom laughed gaily at Her Sire's remark, and her laughter echoed throughout Eä; and the children smiled even while they were sleeping. She caressed their dark and fair heads as she moved about them.[5]

She once again looked at Her Sire.
“You have more thoughts?”
“You do favor some of them above others, don't You?”
“I do and do not favor one above the other.”
“Then why do I get this feeling that You like Your second born better?”
“They will have to toil harder against the one on whom I bestowed more favor than others.”
“You know he was the first to decline me. I will not be surprised if more of Your children follow.”
“You still love them, even if you call them fools.”
“What a paradox! You kindle them with me, but still make them reject me with that same flame.”
“I do not make them, but it is their choice.” [6]

She once again resumed her silence as she continued her work. While He gave the last touches to His work, He sighed. “They will all come to me. All in Time.” Once again He turned His thoughts to His Wisdom. “You will guide them.”
“As My Sire asks whatever of me, I shall do. You know well, I can not aid those without a pure heart. It has already been an agony to see Your children suffer in their own folly. Time and time again it will come, when they forget me. Still I shall keep my ever vigilance for those who seek me.”[7]

---

Interpretation

He and His thought Wisdom are one and the same, the one and only Eru. This is not a schizophrenic depiction of Eru's mind, but rather one of my ways of telling His thoughts in a poem/story/essay. His Wisdom is depicted as a she, just to show that Eru being the supreme, is complete.

[1] The reference to clay indicates hroa of children are made from materials of Eä. This is a mythological world and here there is no scope for evolution. :D

[2] When elves awoke by the Lake, they were mesmerized by Varda's stars. Glory of Varda's handiwork or all of the Eä together is nothing compared to Eru Himself. And Eru has a desire to reveal His Glory and shower His Grace to His children whom he kindled with flame imperishable. (I also interpret flame imperishable as the aspect of Eru which gives free will and life to the beings He created.) His Children did stumble in their voyage, both elder and younger ones. Eru chose not to intervene in Eä, so as to have His children exercise their free will.

[3] I do not think Eru clothed the children while they slept. When they awoke they were like new born, but he had to protect them from the extremities of the world while they slept.

[4] Melkor's hunt refers to his vain search for Flame imperishable which was set at the heart of the world. What is at the heart of the world? What is the hardest thing to understand? I think, it is one's own being and the supreme being. The heart of Tolkien's mythology is Eru creating His children, both First born and Second born. It is from there on, that his saga truly begins. So in a way one can think of life as heart of the world. In order to understand flame imperishable one has to truly understand oneself, and then only one can truly understand the supreme being. But in this effort, there is always that inner voice who offers the guidance.

[5] The selfless love of a Father to His children is indescribable. His joy in seeing his children sleep echoes throughout all Eä.

[6] Eru does not favor one above the other, but still it looks like He favors some. This is a paradox, just like the paradox that He gives life to His children, but let them give the choice to reject or accept Him. Melkor was given the most number of gifts when compared to other Valar, but he was also the first to deny His wisdom and fall into folly of pride and arrogance. When Melkor looked upon Eruhíni, he was clouded with jealousy. He saw them as his enemies and sought their annihilation, when he should have seen them as younger siblings and loved them. Both elves and men had to fight against Melkor for their survival. But it is the second born who has to live in Morgoth's ring till the end of time. In a way, for their suffering Eru seemed to have favored second born as they were given the gift of death to leave the circles of Eä to return to Him.

[7] The last act of giving the commission to guide His children is to be looked as a promise to His children that He makes. And in time or rather say at ending of time, all His children will be singing to Him again. Though fate of the elves are unknown, I do not think they will be left out from His Grace.

---

Guess what?

I am too lazy to write my own story, after building a world of its own. So what, I am making an effort to express. This is the latest thing I wrote other than corrections to my thesis:) It is set in Tolkien's mythological world, and is about the progression of life. This is just the beginning of a poem and the title is The Carver by the Lake. The lines, which you might think are in a strange language are simply the translation in Sindarin, an imaginary language by Tolkien. :D
So whatever you think, feel free to comment.

The Carver by the Lake

Epë i Nothril istas,
(Even) before the Weaver(Vairë) knew,

Io ennas, i Daerceredir nef i ael !
There once was, The
Carver by the Lake!

Sui Mudas, ara forvo În
As He carved,
by His side was

Angol În, cened sai pain!
His Wisdom,
witnessing it all!!



“Dîno a lasto!
Be Still and
Hark!

Sui iChwest thuia thar lhorn!
As The gentle wind
breathes over still waters!

Tira i vîw rhinc, a rincir!..”
See the little ripples, and they stir!..

Rest of the poem will be posted once I finish it. Hmm, when will that be?

Creative writing

I am not particularly enthusiastic about sharing this piece. I think I had always wanted to be a writer since my earliest days, I suppose. I had been living in oblivion of this secret goal of mine for so long. I remembered of this interest, while listening to a particular talk at Perspectives I think, when Mr McCarthy was casually talking about "talents". I am now wondering how did I forget about myself. Ever since my junior year in high school, I have sincerely pursued my interest in maths and science and totally ignored the artistic side of me. May be that's the way I continued all through out my days in engineering school. Well that makes me think, 'O, I did have amnesia.'
This is an excellent example in which one can illustrate how our outward goals subdues our inner person. I think quality writing where we purge our souls innermost thoughts is a really daunting task. Once you write, it not only aids in identifying your thoughts with clarity, but also in embracing your values without hesitation. Just like speech, written word is powerful enough to move nations and people group. (O, I am just repeating what several people have said before. May be an adage like 'Pen is mightier than sword.')
So coming to the point, what made me write this far. I am an aspiring writer. Alright, there I said/typed it. (Ai! This is like a 'coming out'.)

Down the memory lane

I am trying to recollect some of my earliest memories, to be exact I want to know how much I can remember of my escapades when I was less than 5. I assume that the events I can recollect are most likely to be remembered by my parents better. I remember that I used to play with my brother, making up tales of a character named appachi-kuchi. Although I don't remember it's role that well, the character was from a far far away place, and most likely it had received all our abuses, since it was played by a dumb doll and our(my brother and I) own differences how the tale should proceed were not easily resolved. As I am writing this I did an isearch to find out that Kuchi is actually a pashtun tribe in Afghanistan. I still can't figure out how we came with that name? May be my brother and I should have been so creative or we already had some Afghan influence.

I must confess at this point that Kabuliwalah(Fruit seller from Kabul) by Tagore is one of my favorite short stories of all times. That reminds me another of my memories, when I used to make my mom mildly to wildly enraged. There used to be this old fellow, a total drunkard who used to clean municipal canals( rather say drainage), and disowned by his family. He used to visit my family occasionally, normally at the end of day, I don't exactly remember the frequency though, but it adds to my oddity that he was one of my favorite visitors other than, may be my grandfather and my cousins. May be it's because this fellow Krishan used to tell me stories. I can't think of any other reason, he totally stank of dirt. At the end of day when he come to our home, I will run to him most likely in my clean clothes just after the shower to the utter disgust of my mother. (Poor her, she must have had a hard time to keep me in clean clothes :)) That's not all, just like Kabuliwalah, Krishnan used to bring me snacks. I think it is a part of our culture for older people to bring their favorite kids some sweets when they visit them ;), although I can't think of a time when pazham pori was my favorite. Still I used to eat them, after having it from his dirty hands. I must add this too, my mom was a bit afraid of Krishnan, thinking that he might kidnap me(shouldn't all moms be like that?). I think I liked that idea, not the part of being kidnapped but mom being scared. In those days, when I get pretty good scoldings from my mom, I would wail out loudly saying that I will report her to Gurkha(whatever gave me that strange idea?). Gurkhas used to be the local watch, kind of like the friendly campus police. There used to be some Gurkha around my neighborhood in those days. I don't remember me wailing that frequently though, may be once.

Now you must be wondering, I must have been a very naughty child. I must say I was a very descent kid, not doing anything that leads to trouble, most of the time. Still what do my parents retell, my little mischievous acts, but only when asked specifically about that phase of life, so that I can remember myself as a very naughty kid. I don't know why is it a part of human nature to recollect all the negatives before positives about fellow human beings. May be if said all nice things about everyone around us, life won't be very interesting.

To conclude this note and to remove confusions, whether Gurkahs are still around guarding Indian neighborhoods, I have no idea, as there are no statistics available at this present time. About Krishnan, he died on some roadside pavement, forlorn :( a few years ago. The rumor was that he was high on alcohol and drugs. There are a lot of such social outcast living among us. hmmm..

An inconvenient truth

I ordered the documentary video An inconvenient truth over netflix. It was an interesting watch. The only problem with Al Gore speaking about global warming is that it sort of brings in the question whether he is presenting the facts accurately. I am so skeptical about politicians. One statement he makes about ozone hole over Antarctica is such a thing. Ozone hole is still big, and this year's observation is one of the record highs. May be he meant only the politics that made US govt sign Montreal protocol. But has it succeeded in bringing down the levels of Chloro Fluoro Carbons? CFC has to eventually clear out of the ecosystem after years, but is the level of decrease in CFC reflecting the ozone hole size? Or has the level of CFC emission actually decreased? In other words is every nation true to Montreal protocol?
There is no denying of global warming. Everyone is experiencing it. Colder winters and hotter summers, droughts and floods, hurricanes and tornadoes, the nature unleashed. Since many tiny drops maketh the ocean, may be its time for each of us to make an effort to reduce green house gas emissions. Though I don't know how much it can change anything, but it is a part of living responsibly.

Cooking crisp apple

I am waiting for the crisp apple pudding to be baked. And guess what, I forgot to add. There is no butter in my crisp apple. I wonder how different this one is going to be from what Marsha makes. Either I will eventually be labeled a total looser in cooking, which I am even now. Or I will become an expert in low fat recipes.

Dr Cerf

Today I was listening to Vinton Cerf's near monologue for nearly an hour, although it was supposed to be a question and answer session. No wonder why he is the chief internet evangelist for Google, obviously in addition to being one of the 'father's of the internet', he is a persuasive speaker. Good things to know about him is that he is a supporter of strong encryption systems and he is against extension of CALEA to VoIP(whose implication means anything over the internet will be eavesdropped). His reasoning is simple and valid. One of the interesting projects that he really wants to do is a comic book on educating legislators on security issues. A comic strip model stripped away from all details so that people in the old school can understand issues that need to be addressed, but not so abstract that problem is no longer there.
I wonder what sort of comic model should be used to educate politicians in India about these issues when they tax ISPs because they sell light energy?

Finding Sam

Sam remarks,"Wonder if we will be ever put in songs and tales"
"What?", Frodo responds.
"Wonder if people will ever say, 'Lets hear about Frodo and the ring. Yes, its one of my favourite stories. Frodo was really courageous, wasn't he Dad?. Yes, my boy, the most famouses of hobits. Doesn't that saying a lot"
"You left one of the chief characters, Samwise the brave. I want to hear more about Sam. Frodo wouldn't have gone far without Sam"
"No, Mr.Frodo. You shouldn't be making fun. I was being serious"
"So was I",says Frodo.

Frodo is one of my most favourite characters among all the stories I know. He left his clique to go out to a world of darkness and shadow, to fight for the good. Sam, his loyal friend and servant never leaves his side other than for one occasion. In Sam one can find all the qualities of a loyal companion. One who zealously guards his companion's heart. One who exhorts against the evil. One who motivates to go further. One who never leaves his companions side.

When one decides to pick friends, in particular their best friend/soul mate, they set standards for them. One will wish he/she has to be like this, like that. One writes a specification for their best friend. But forgets what really matters is the qualities that one can find in Sam, although he is a simple gardener. One forgets that Frodo didn't choose Sam to be his companion for his adventure. It happened by chance and then by committment. One shouldn't forget in their flurry search for their best friend, that one's Sam is within oneself. If one could only listen to that inner voice of that simple guardian of heart. After all, the voyage began alone. And so it will be in the end.

Cats and dogs

Cats are pretty picky and dogs are jealous. Today I had to take Simba and Toby(dogs) to bed. They were unhappy to see Meow-meow(the spoilt cat) eat from their dish. I think Jack left the dog food on the floor. And Meow-meow was happily munching on it. So when I took the dogs to bed, I thought Simba won't give me any trouble. She went to garage and Toby ran around in the house. While I was trying to get hold of Toby, Simba changed her mind and came to the kitchen and ate all the cat food. Toby didn't care much about going to bed, after he had one of the cat food container. Once Toby was in the garage, I was wondering where is Simba. I had to wait all the time while Simba munched on. I didn't want to disturb a hungry dog.
A little while later, I took food to both dogs and cats and all four of them seemed not to be hungry at all! I am now trying to understand this behaviour. It seems to me, that even humans behave that way. Sometimes when someone else takes the position one wants, then they have an icy cold treatment towards the other person. I think as higher level animals we should show much better behaviour.

I am back

"I can't do this, Sam", says Frodo
Sam replies, "I know, its's all wrong, by rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories Mr. Frodo . Once that really mattered, full of darkness and danger they were. Sometimes you didn't want to know the end, because how can the ending be happy? How can the world go back to the way it was when so much has happened. But in the end, its only a passing thing, the shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer. Those are the stories that stay with you, that meant something, even if you are too small to understand why. But I think Mr. Frodo, I do understand . I know now , folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't . They kept going because they were all holding on to something. "
"What are we holding onto, Sam?"
"There is something good in this world and its worth fighting for."

This is one of my favorite lines from the movie adaptation of Tolkien's Lord of the rings - The two towers. Darkness has passed. I am no longer paranoid. So I update my blog again, though not that frequent.

Philology- love for words.

Being a big fan of Tolkien's writings, I always like the new words that writers coin up. Rowling's writings also happen to be in that category. The etymological study of a word upto its root words is very interesting. Knowing older languages like Sanskrit and Latin are quiet beneficial. I wish at times I were doing some research on philology rather than computer science. But any ways the opportunity to challenge the mind, thats what matters most to me.

Addicted to sudoku

I spent so much time on solving sudoku puzzles these days. Its a good exercise for brains. Even though it's stimulating, it is definitely not a good idea to keep solving puzzles one after another, ignoring other work. How does addiction works? How can one get addicted to some simple things like playing sudoku?

State of mind

What could be the possible state of mind now? I mean the state of brain with all those indoleamines and catecholamines, are they balanced? I am wondering, as it is in its balance that each person feels good. Lack of seratonin(the feel good neurotransmitter) and indoleamine causes depression. Another aspect of the brain, how the primitive limbic system takes control of us and put us in a flight or fight situation even when we are just watching a horror movie amuses me. When information reaches thalamus, which is the sorter within the brain, the information is sent to the appropriate cortex area. But when the information has emotional content, amygdala bypasses the thalamus and takes control of the flow from reticular activating system and puts the person in the very emotional state as we see them to be in. This is one of the theories that I have come across today. It is pretty interesting.

don't know why my brain starts pondering for all the possible solutions to all the possible questions that i could think of? what is the difference between thoughts and day dreams? are the utopian ideas that evolve in a day dream, to be trashed? may be it should be recorded.