You were told that the train to Neverland - that land of contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness - started from Platform 9 3/4. You spent ages just looking for Platform 9 3/4. You went to that Platform 9 and the other Platform after it, the one with no number, which you figured would be Platform 10. But there was no Platform 10. At least there was no board assigning it the title 'Platform 10'. You stood around for quite a while, you walked the length and the breadth of the platform looking for some board, some paint on the wall, some graffiti, just some symbol which said that you were standing on Platform 10. You asked people around whether it was Platform 10, no one responded. They just shrugged their shoulders in a non-chalant way. Some looked at you and shuddered 'coz you had asked for the unthinkable - how can anyone in their right frame of mind be looking for Platform 10? You then asked people whether they knew where the station master sits, so that you can then enquire whether you are on Platform 10...but no one knew. Finally when you had spent hours and days looking for Platform 10, you saw a man in uniform. You assumed that should be the station master. You rushed to him to ask, Am I standing on Platform 10? He said, Use your brains fella. If the previous one is Platform 9, and the one before that is 8, then of course this is 10. That's when you realized, Of course, how foolish. All the last few days, you stood where you thought you wanted to be. But you could attain nothing, 'coz you were unsure of yourself. You went and asked all the wrong people whether what you thought was right, but of course, they refused to help. Everybody had their own problems and they could not bother less about a new fella with his own new set of questions.
You were happy that you were on Platform 10. Oh that's when you realized that the search did not end here. Where you actually wanted to be was Platform 9 3/4, and catch a train from there which took you to Neverland.
You stood from Platform 10, and gazed over to that Platform 9. From where you stood, you could clearly see a sign painted in red and blue and white which read platform 9. There was no other platform in between the two platforms, 9 and 10. Where is Platform 9 3/4, you wondered? That's when the idea struck you. Probably you can just run through the walls of Platform 9, just like Harry Potter and his friends did in J K Rowling's fantasy world. You took your luggage cart and rushed to the walls. As you were rushing to the walls, you had this entire fantasy illusion of how the walls would part and just let you in. Or maybe the walls would suddenly turn transparent and you could just walk into it. As your speed increased, you had this fabulous view of how you would get into Platform 9 3/4 successfully and how you would rave about it to all your friends and family. As your luggage cart almost touched the walls, you were shocked to see that the walls were not parting. It still seemed as solid as ever. Your cart bumped into the walls with a loud thud, your luggage fell over. People around began to laugh at you, on your seeming foolishness. You got up embarassed, shook the dust off your pants, collected your bags, arranged them again on the cart and began to walk back. You remembered in the book that Harry had to do it multiple times. You tried again. Sigh! With the same result.
As you tried again and again, and made yourself the butt of the others' jokes, you realized that this is not the same as JK Rowling's fantasy world. This was your own world and you had to make your own rules. So you jumped from that Platform 9, and walked 3/4th of the distance between Platform 9 and 10. You awaited the train. People around began shouting at you, began calling you names, began asking you to get back up on the platform. This way you would kill yourself, they were saying. Some sounded genuinely concerned. But you could not bother less, you had made up your mind. You had to catch the train from Platform 9 3/4 and this made complete sense.
You could hear the train coming. The screaming of the people around reached boombastic decibels. They were all calling for you to get out of the train's way. First the wind blew - that smoky, petrol-smelling wind that presages the arrival of the train - and then the twin lights pierced the darkness, and then there it was, gray and white, the train. As the lights neared, your eyes began to feel blinded, you clenched your eyes shut tight, for what seemed like almost a minute. The train began honking, the driver began screaming, but you still did not move. With luggage cart in tow, you stood there stoic, ready to face the consequences of your own actions. And then you could feel the thud. In what seemed like an eternity, you could feel the train snaking through your spine. The pain was too much to bear, and you opened your eyes to a new world.
As you opened your eyes, you noticed that you were no longer on the train tracks. You were within the train, and there was a pretty hostess treating you to goodies. There was lots of food. It was the land of plenty. Milk and honey was flowing freely everywhere. You asked the hostess whether this was the train to Neverland. She nodded with that smug smile of someone who knew it all, and was often faced with the same question. You ate some, drank some, slept some, seemed to enjoy the ride.
But as you rode more and more in the train, you began to feel lonely. You wanted to make some friends. You had left your family and friends in the land of that Platform 9, 10 and 9 3/4. You took up the friendship of the first guy who came and introduced himself to you. He promised you wealth, goodness, friendship, loyalty and in short, the works, for ages to come. You were new in the train, you knew nobody. You took up his offer of friendship. Those were some happy days. You ate together, drank together, went to all fun places in the train together, flirted with the hostesses together. You thought that this was to last for all times. But then sadly his destination was not Neverland, and he got down before the destination.
You were heartbroken, you cried for days with no end. You took up on chocolate and booze. Sadly those two never satisfied your loneliness pangs. There were still some more acquaintances who offered you their friendship, but this time you made it sure to ask them their destination before they started on the journey with you. You noticed that most of them were getting down before Neverland and hence you chose not to get too close with them.
Along the journey you met some people who were planning to get down at Neverland as well. They were also looking for contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness. Neverland was that promised land. You struck a bond with these guys. You became friends. You did all fun things together. Other people in the train were getting jealous of your friendship. It was excellent company throughout the journey towards Neverland. All that you could wait for, was Neverland now.
But Neverland never came. You had been on the train for months together now, but there was no trace of Neverland. Your friends began getting dissatisfied. Some of them began bonding with other people on the train who were getting off at stops that were approaching in the next few days. They found that their promised land of contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness was with this new companion of theirs. They got down with their new found accomplices at stops before Neverland. And really it was not their fault. Neverland was not be seen at all. And whenever you asked the hostesses where Neverland was, they had no answer. You had the patience to wait until Neverland approached. Not everyone else had the same level of Patience.
That was when you realized that your land of contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness was probably where you caught the train from.
You were distressed when that realization struck you. You had made months of journey on this train now. And it would take you as much time to get back. You began to panic as this realization struck you. And as you were already panicking through this one thought, another thought struck you. You had not seen a train going back in the reverse direction in all your months of journey towards Neverland. So how do you get back from Neverland? Do you stay put in the train until Neverland comes, no matter how long it takes? Or do you get down and begin looking for alternate approaches to get back to where you think Neverland actually is?
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
India to get younger politicians
I stumbled on this great news today. Apparently Basu and Surjeet have expressed their desires to be relieved. I am sure the nation breathes a sigh of collective relief as well. It's high time that the Communist party gets infused with some fresh thoughts and fresh blood. The age old moralistic, retrograde Communist thoughts will not work for a brand new India.
Maybe, it's just hoping for too much to expect fresh blood to stream into the Indian political arena.
'Coz the youth wing of the party is still led by the relatively younger 70+ year old Bardhan. And it is the 75+ year old Somnath Chatterjee who will take over the mantle from Basu and Surjeet. It's time for maybe another 20-30 year old reign by Chatterjee over the party. Sigh!
I had heard this somewhere once:
Secret of a long life: Become a politician.
Secret of a longer life: Become a politician with the Communist Party.
So true!
Maybe, it's just hoping for too much to expect fresh blood to stream into the Indian political arena.
'Coz the youth wing of the party is still led by the relatively younger 70+ year old Bardhan. And it is the 75+ year old Somnath Chatterjee who will take over the mantle from Basu and Surjeet. It's time for maybe another 20-30 year old reign by Chatterjee over the party. Sigh!
I had heard this somewhere once:
Secret of a long life: Become a politician.
Secret of a longer life: Become a politician with the Communist Party.
So true!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
What's my word?
An excerpt from Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat, Pray, Love":
If you could read people's thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you would discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be - that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city, then you don't really belong there.
"What's Rome's word?" I asked.
"SEX", he announced.
"But isn't that a stereotype about Rome?"
"No."
"But surely there are some people in Rome thinking about other things than sex?"
Giulio insisted: "No. All of them, all day, all they are thinking about is SEX."
"Even over at the Vatican?"
"That's different. The Vatican isn't part of Rome. They have a different word over there. Their word is POWER."
"You'd think it would be FAITH."
"It's POWER," he repeated. "Trust me. But the word in ROME - it's SEX."
Now if you are to believe Giulio, that little word - SEX - cobbles the streets beneath your feet in Rome, runs through the fountains here, fills the air like traffic noise. Thinking about it, dressing for it, seeking it, considering it, refusing it, making a sport and game out of it - that's all anybody is doing. Which would make a bit of sense as to why, for all its gorgeousness, Rome doesn't quite feel like my hometown. Not at this moment in my life. Because SEX isn't my word right now. It has been at other times of my life, but it isn't right now. Therefore, Rome's word, as it spins through the streets, just bumps against me and tumbles off, leaving no impact. I'm not participating in the word, so I'm not fully living here. It's a kooky theory, impossible to prove, but I sort of like it.
Giulio asked, "What's the word in New York City?"
I thought about this for a moment, then decided. "It's a verb, of course, I think it's ACHIEVE."
(Which is subtly but significantly different from the word in Los Angeles, I believe, which is also a verb: SUCCEED. Later, I will share this theory with my Swedish friend Sofie, and she will offer her opinion that the word on the streets of Stockholm is CONFORM, which depresses both of us.)"
___________________________________________________________
So what's my word?
Now that, I definitely cannot answer.
It's not SEX for sure. I can't even seem to remember the last time. SEX must have been my word some years back. It's not MARRIAGE, that's evident too. FAMILY? Nah. I am staying alone in NYC and happy about it. Am I entirely inhabiting New York City's word - ACHIEVE? I guess to some extent..maybe, I am not sure. Is my word PATIENCE? I am patiently awaiting the next few months, for decisions to be made, for new commitments to be made, for things to change, for new things to happen, for old bad occurences to pass. Yes, PATIENCE, maybe that's my word. It does not overall fit into NYC's word, and maybe that's why I am not that happy here. But yes, PATIENCE, it is....
If you could read people's thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you would discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be - that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city, then you don't really belong there.
"What's Rome's word?" I asked.
"SEX", he announced.
"But isn't that a stereotype about Rome?"
"No."
"But surely there are some people in Rome thinking about other things than sex?"
Giulio insisted: "No. All of them, all day, all they are thinking about is SEX."
"Even over at the Vatican?"
"That's different. The Vatican isn't part of Rome. They have a different word over there. Their word is POWER."
"You'd think it would be FAITH."
"It's POWER," he repeated. "Trust me. But the word in ROME - it's SEX."
Now if you are to believe Giulio, that little word - SEX - cobbles the streets beneath your feet in Rome, runs through the fountains here, fills the air like traffic noise. Thinking about it, dressing for it, seeking it, considering it, refusing it, making a sport and game out of it - that's all anybody is doing. Which would make a bit of sense as to why, for all its gorgeousness, Rome doesn't quite feel like my hometown. Not at this moment in my life. Because SEX isn't my word right now. It has been at other times of my life, but it isn't right now. Therefore, Rome's word, as it spins through the streets, just bumps against me and tumbles off, leaving no impact. I'm not participating in the word, so I'm not fully living here. It's a kooky theory, impossible to prove, but I sort of like it.
Giulio asked, "What's the word in New York City?"
I thought about this for a moment, then decided. "It's a verb, of course, I think it's ACHIEVE."
(Which is subtly but significantly different from the word in Los Angeles, I believe, which is also a verb: SUCCEED. Later, I will share this theory with my Swedish friend Sofie, and she will offer her opinion that the word on the streets of Stockholm is CONFORM, which depresses both of us.)"
___________________________________________________________
So what's my word?
Now that, I definitely cannot answer.
It's not SEX for sure. I can't even seem to remember the last time. SEX must have been my word some years back. It's not MARRIAGE, that's evident too. FAMILY? Nah. I am staying alone in NYC and happy about it. Am I entirely inhabiting New York City's word - ACHIEVE? I guess to some extent..maybe, I am not sure. Is my word PATIENCE? I am patiently awaiting the next few months, for decisions to be made, for new commitments to be made, for things to change, for new things to happen, for old bad occurences to pass. Yes, PATIENCE, maybe that's my word. It does not overall fit into NYC's word, and maybe that's why I am not that happy here. But yes, PATIENCE, it is....
Time
So Google came up with a new feature today, that allows you to go back in time. http://mail.google.com/mail/help/customtime/index.html
By the way, I am yet to believe this. I think this is an April Fool’s day hoax. But it just gives rise to a larger discussion about the sacredness of that one human invention that cannot go wrong – Time.
This is as close to a time-machine that you will ever get, a mass produced time-machine. You can send emails today to somebody wishing them for their birthday last month, and when the dear one accuses you of forgetting to wish them on their birthday, you can always claim innocent. In fact you can use the feature to blame the accuser of neglecting your emails and get a higher hand in the argument.
Already we have the facility of sending emails in the future. We can save an email in the drafts folder, and program to send it sometime in the later future.
With both these capabilities in place, today we can successfully claim to having achieved at least a semblance of Time Travel – the ability to travel back and forth in time similar to travelling back and forth between different points in space.
Here is more information on Time Travel: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_travel
This is definitely an interesting feature as an experiment. But I do not support having this feature out in the public for everyone to misuse. In today’s virtual world, emails are considered sacred. It’s almost equivalent to written and signed off documents. Once you hit the send button, you are bound by your written word. Imagine a scenario like this: You are awaiting a response to an important query from one of the sponsors or vendors or the millions of other teams that you have to interface with in today’s collaborative world. The person who has to respond back is out playing golf or surfing or watching a movie or just in general being irresponsible. You reach a bottleneck and cannot proceed without the other team member’s input. Lots of money, time, energy and peace of mind is wasted in the meantime. Finally the person responds, but backdates his email response, so that it seems that he responded back in time. Now the gun is on your forehead, for having neglected the response.
This looks like one of those many features, which has an ample scope to be misused.
Even Gmail is limiting this feature to only 10 emails/year to any user. Their findings:
[(N x P) - /φ]/L = 10
N = Total emails sent
P = Probability that user believes the time stamp
φ = The Golden Ratio
L = Average life expectancy
I don’t know how the Gmail researchers came up with this formula, but my head tells me not at all. Not 10, not 1, not any. It’s a feature, which, if it falls into the wrong hands, can cause mass havoc. I like the comment left my one Mr. Michael L. on Gmail’s site: "This feature allows people to manipulate and mislead people with falsified time data. Time is a sacred truth that should never be tampered with."
On a more philosophical note, we are all aware of the direct, straightforward concept: time is motion. Time has a direction, and it is in that direction that it moves. This means that we live life according to a passing present moment. I am sure, ancient scholars, came up with the concept of time, and hours and days and months and years for some purpose. And by providing this feature of moving back and forth in time according to one’s free will, we are questioning the age old truth of the uniformity of time. That, there are 24 hours to each and every human being, regardless of your age, sex, nationality, race, educational background, etc. With this feature though, gmail users will have the additional facility of going back in time upto April 2004, at least 10 times a year. This means that gmail users have just added another (4*10) 40 years to their lives. So now think about this – Does time remain a uniform entity any more?
We need time. We need time to work, to eat, to sleep, and to accomplish all the daily chores of living. We also need time to know and understand our mates, our children, and our friends. Most of our relationships, daily tasks and other commitments, in fact, require more time than we have, and it is difficult to avoid the feeling that we could never have enough. Nor is our list of demands on our time complete. We have ignored the time we need to be alone, a necessary but invariably short- changed period.
With the increasing demand for more time, and the reducing supply of it, can the non-uniformity of time be counted as ethical anymore? Time was the last unfailing bastion of uniformity. Already monetary and physical sources of energy are no longer uniform. With time too falling prey to this, the future looks too bleak, from where we are standing today and looking at the past.
By the way, I am yet to believe this. I think this is an April Fool’s day hoax. But it just gives rise to a larger discussion about the sacredness of that one human invention that cannot go wrong – Time.
This is as close to a time-machine that you will ever get, a mass produced time-machine. You can send emails today to somebody wishing them for their birthday last month, and when the dear one accuses you of forgetting to wish them on their birthday, you can always claim innocent. In fact you can use the feature to blame the accuser of neglecting your emails and get a higher hand in the argument.
Already we have the facility of sending emails in the future. We can save an email in the drafts folder, and program to send it sometime in the later future.
With both these capabilities in place, today we can successfully claim to having achieved at least a semblance of Time Travel – the ability to travel back and forth in time similar to travelling back and forth between different points in space.
Here is more information on Time Travel: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_travel
This is definitely an interesting feature as an experiment. But I do not support having this feature out in the public for everyone to misuse. In today’s virtual world, emails are considered sacred. It’s almost equivalent to written and signed off documents. Once you hit the send button, you are bound by your written word. Imagine a scenario like this: You are awaiting a response to an important query from one of the sponsors or vendors or the millions of other teams that you have to interface with in today’s collaborative world. The person who has to respond back is out playing golf or surfing or watching a movie or just in general being irresponsible. You reach a bottleneck and cannot proceed without the other team member’s input. Lots of money, time, energy and peace of mind is wasted in the meantime. Finally the person responds, but backdates his email response, so that it seems that he responded back in time. Now the gun is on your forehead, for having neglected the response.
This looks like one of those many features, which has an ample scope to be misused.
Even Gmail is limiting this feature to only 10 emails/year to any user. Their findings:
[(N x P) - /φ]/L = 10
N = Total emails sent
P = Probability that user believes the time stamp
φ = The Golden Ratio
L = Average life expectancy
I don’t know how the Gmail researchers came up with this formula, but my head tells me not at all. Not 10, not 1, not any. It’s a feature, which, if it falls into the wrong hands, can cause mass havoc. I like the comment left my one Mr. Michael L. on Gmail’s site: "This feature allows people to manipulate and mislead people with falsified time data. Time is a sacred truth that should never be tampered with."
On a more philosophical note, we are all aware of the direct, straightforward concept: time is motion. Time has a direction, and it is in that direction that it moves. This means that we live life according to a passing present moment. I am sure, ancient scholars, came up with the concept of time, and hours and days and months and years for some purpose. And by providing this feature of moving back and forth in time according to one’s free will, we are questioning the age old truth of the uniformity of time. That, there are 24 hours to each and every human being, regardless of your age, sex, nationality, race, educational background, etc. With this feature though, gmail users will have the additional facility of going back in time upto April 2004, at least 10 times a year. This means that gmail users have just added another (4*10) 40 years to their lives. So now think about this – Does time remain a uniform entity any more?
We need time. We need time to work, to eat, to sleep, and to accomplish all the daily chores of living. We also need time to know and understand our mates, our children, and our friends. Most of our relationships, daily tasks and other commitments, in fact, require more time than we have, and it is difficult to avoid the feeling that we could never have enough. Nor is our list of demands on our time complete. We have ignored the time we need to be alone, a necessary but invariably short- changed period.
With the increasing demand for more time, and the reducing supply of it, can the non-uniformity of time be counted as ethical anymore? Time was the last unfailing bastion of uniformity. Already monetary and physical sources of energy are no longer uniform. With time too falling prey to this, the future looks too bleak, from where we are standing today and looking at the past.
It's all bull @#$!
I wake up feeling perplexed. I grab the cell phone lying by the bed and look at the time - 2.27 am. I was dreaming about....shit???!!!
I have a bucket full of shit with me. I am running around my apartment block trying to hide it from others. People are walking up and down the stairs and some are going up and down using the elevators, and here I am dodging from one corner to another carrying this bucket with me. I am hiding it from all prying eyes, who are wondering what is it that I am hiding. And on top of that everybody's wondering what the stink is!
Anyone who knows how to interpret dreams? What does this one mean?
I have a bucket full of shit with me. I am running around my apartment block trying to hide it from others. People are walking up and down the stairs and some are going up and down using the elevators, and here I am dodging from one corner to another carrying this bucket with me. I am hiding it from all prying eyes, who are wondering what is it that I am hiding. And on top of that everybody's wondering what the stink is!
Anyone who knows how to interpret dreams? What does this one mean?
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