The Irony of Existance

Learning from Mistakes

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 13:03:00 +0000

It is an innate human tendency to make mistakes. In fact mistakes are such an integral part of life itself that every species on the planet makes them. Cows, buffaloes, or even monkeys, they all make their own share of mistakes. In the wild, mistakes are usually fatal. Take for example a deer that makes a wrong turn during a chase and gets eaten by a lion. I don't know how many of you watch the "Animal Planet" channel, but I never fail to see that deer keep making the same mistake over and over again, and alway ends up taking that wrong turn. If they didn't, lions wouldn't have much to eat, would they. The fantastic part about being human is that we're smart enough that we can learn from our mistakes. This ability is essential because we don't want to do the same thing over and over again and end up like the deer.
So keen are we in order not to commit the same mistakes again, that we humans came up with a subject called History. We fill Pages and Pages with the tales of human failure and misery. Thousands of scholars pore over these tales to answer that fundamental question: what went wrong? Millions of students like us are made to read the interpretation of these scholars to learn “how not to go wrong”. History is nothing but a list of human mistakes, and we are taught about it in order to learn from them. Yet time and time again we continue to repeat those very same mistakes.
Some say that you can only learn from mistakes if you commit them. However, not only can we learn from our own mistakes, we can learn from other's mistakes as well. Learning how not to commit mistakes is essential for human survival. Whether it's a child learning about why he shouldn't break the television because he'll get grounded or a person learning why he should not to jump in front of a running train, when he sees some person on television being run over by a train, they are both are learning from mistakes. Somewhere "inside" we're affected by this, and it clicks that we're not supposed to be doing this. It becomes essential to learn from our mistakes because our entire "life experience" is nothing but the knowledge gained from the mistakes we make and the mistakes we see other people making.
But this raises an important question: If learning from mistakes is so essential, why do some people not learn from their mistakes? Why do they commit them again and again? An answer could probably be found in a popular saying. The saying goes, "Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it". But before you condemn these people who do not learn from mistakes as being simply bad students of history, you must consider that the statement has more abstract implications. It means that the people who commit the same mistakes over and over again do not remember when they had made the same mistake in the past, or whether they had made such a mistake at all. This could be attributed to many causes for example, poor memory, when the person simply just doesn't remember his mistake, or ignorance, when the person refuses to acknowledge that he's made a mistake or can ever make a mistake, or even callousness, when the person doesn't care he's made a mistake. These are the people who are dangerous and if placed in a position of power can cause harm to not only themselves but to thousands of others. Take Hitler for example. His mistake of creating a dictatorship in Germany led to an entire World War.
Not remembering the past, and forgetting the mistakes we have made have dire consequences. It is thus essential that we learn from our mistakes. It is essential that we remember the mistakes we have made and the lessons we've learned from them. It is essential that we be observant enough to learn from the mistakes of others, so that we do not have to learn "the hard way". This is necessary to our survival on earth or even in society. This is the responsibility of every “good” person and would make society a better place in which to live.

Alternate Lives

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 18:47:00 +0000

"All the worlds a stage and all the men and women are only players", a line made so hackneyed by the parochial aspirations of lesser writers piggybacking on the shoulders of giants, that it fails to bring the same fluttering of emotions as it once did when it was first uttered. A line denegrated into the chasms of cliche-hood by overuse. But the extent to which the statement holds true in today's world is shocking, especially in the life of a teenager.
To his parents he's the epitome of goodness, the sole light of the household. To his friends he is the average joe, great for a good time, but not that fun. But once hes online he becomes this completely different person. Whether on Facebook, Orkut, or on Myspace, the true colours of this teenager come into light, either his true self or his effort in engineering his online social image to suit what he wishes he was. Online is where you can become whatever you dream of, and social networking websites have made this possible. With his 100+ friends he shows himself to the world as gregarious, with his witty status messages he tries to project an image of smartness, with his pictures, showing him standing before some mountain or sky-diving off a cliff, he is desperate to showcase himself as "having a life".
It is quite strange that a public medium such as the internet has become a place to shed all inhibitions, a circumstance previously associated with only inebriation. People share information about their habits, their activities, their relationships, which if their parents were to find out about, it would definitely land them in the dog house. The only thing protecting such information being a flimsy password and the same phenomenon that prevents nuclear war from happening, Mutually assured Destruction, or put simply, "You tell on me, I'll tell on you".
But why are people taking refuge in such an inscrutable medium, pouring out their deepest desires which will be stored half way around the world protected by some unknown privacy agreements, which no-one even bothers reading before signing up? Because its "hep" and because all your friends are doing it. People will shy from doing internet shopping but they will readily share information on Orkut. Such a communal trust has evolved in the internet. With Indian parents repressing their youths, they seek recourse of the internet where they can vent their frustrations with all his friends simultaneously, instead of one by one through the telephone. It enables frustrated Indian youths to expand their horizons by not only hitting on Indian females online but also enabling them to hit on people half way around the world, or perhaps in the common introductory parlance, "do frandship with them". Social networking is a fantastic medium because it gives you instant gratification, with your friends immediately commenting on your status messages and "microblogs".
But what happens when suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, youre parents join up and request to add you as a friend?

Anime Bashing

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Tue, 19 May 2009 14:18:00 +0000

Anime has to be one of the oddest forms of entertainment i've encountered, save, some Hindi soap operas of course. I had watched a few episodes of it, but I didn't really "get it", what is anime, why are so many people crazy about it? So I talked to a few people trying to resolve my conundrum. They told me that they're cartoons with great stories, stories of love and hate, and samurais, and Mobile suit Gundams (Whatever that is. Some kind of sushi perhaps?).
The last time I checked, cartoons were meant to make people laugh, not tell stories of vengeance and strife. We have enough soap operas that are doing that job. The idea of anime humor is limited to the characters suddenly making weird faces, or talking in strange accents with lag in their lip sync (Speed Racer anyone?), an act more grotesque rather than actually funny.
When I hear the word cartoon, I think Tom and Jerry, and Top Cat, and classics such as the Flintstones, and Snagglepuss. Not only do they still succeed in amusing me, it fills me with a sense of nostalgia, and childish glee. Am I to suppose that kids these days will grow up feeling the same thing about that samuraiX and of naruto.
As for the stories, there are television programmes where real actors fight imaginary battles against the forces of evil, or try to get off imaginary islands that travel through time (Lost anyone? There are some real programmes I "don't get" too), and which have ludicrously complicated plots. Then why then, when there are such avenues for amusement with real characters, are people drawn to anime. Maybe its the horribly sub-standard 2d animation, or their horrendous choice of theme songs, it will forever remain a mystery.
Then there's the spinoff of anime, hentai (if you don't know what it is already, I'd suggest you google it). Thats a subject I really would'nt want to get into here. When there are programmes with real characters(doing pretty perverse stuff), why would one want for such kind of higher level of perversion with animation.
In spite of all my efforts, I still don't "get it".

Baby Mortality

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Fri, 08 May 2009 13:33:00 +0000

They are the scourge of the human race, the result of a innate foolish desire to create "family", or simply the result of an "accident" that the female is reluctant to rectify. Those cute little faces hide the face of true evil that is in man. That Thing; it would grow up to be Mussolini, or Hitler, or possibly worse, a Hitler who is politically correct this time around. That thing will grow up to be a teenage monster, a rebel, it will realize our worst fear, it will become exactly like us.
No wonder Polar bears eat their young, and for good reason. They're cute when they're small, but when that cuteness wears off with age is when it gets exasperating. Cuteness is a natural defence mechanism for babies from adults who should normally want to kill them. Think about it, they cry, they poop, they don't lift a finger to help out around the house, a condition that prevails even through teenage years, they wake you up in the middle of the night to gratify their need for attention, any rational human being would strive to silence the source of irritation for good. If only it was socially acceptable. Would it have been socially unacceptable if they weren't so cute? If they weren't cute there'd be a whole lot more infant mortality out there. In the "Omen", sure Damien was cute, but after all, he was the son of the devil on a damned quest to claim the human realm for his father, Satan. Doesn't seem so cute after all those murders, does he? Emotional torture is a fate worse than death.
There's an entire industry just selling products to placate these babies, psyhcologists who study the behaviour of babies, psychotherapists who try to counsel people with problems with their babies, authors who think babies actually say things with their burps and farts. If babies could actually say something, I think they'd flip their parents off, they're way too cute to scold anyway.
God is not without a sense of irony. He's made it so painful to propagate the genetic pool and way too pleasurable to resist doing so. That is why man invented 'rubbers'.

Faith and Science

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 16:47:00 +0000

Why do people put their trust in science? Why is their faith in the mathematical proof irrevocable? Why is it that it is held up to a higher standard than religion.
The discussion seems absurd, however what people don't undestand is that Science itself is a faith and Math, the mother of all sciences, more so.
The faith of Religion is based on certain axioms, that god exists and he has certain rules that we must follow. However, there are so many versions of these axioms, manifesting itself in Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, that they cannot be trusted to be right anymore, rather, people fight over whose axioms of Religion are correct, while aethists have faith their their axioms of anti-Religionsim are true. God help them if they're wrong.
Mathematics is fundamentally different. We believe that 1+1=2, and this will not change. This is what seperates the faith of Mathematics from religion. Mathematics is based on fundamental axioms and people are guaranteed these axioms will never change. This guarantee is enforced by the mathematical community. If a new proof or theory is proposed, it needs to be proved to be correct by showing it adheres to the existing axioms of Mathematics, if it does not it is rejected as false. What gives mathematics its power is this universal acceptance of its axioms and their enforcement. If I come up with a mathematical proof tommorow that God does not exist, all the religions would cease to exist.
Faith is everyone's way of searching for a universal truth. Mathematicians try to search for universal truth through mathematical concepts like String theory and the like. Religious people look for universal truth through spiritual enlightenment by following the rules of God. But the truth is that we don't need a universal truth. Our quest for the truth is simply symptomatic of human aversion to getting lied to. People feel that if they dont know the truth, all other faiths are lying to them, and conflict and wars result from human desire to crush the entity which lied to them. The measure of the truth is not in absolute, it is in to what measure the product of truth is beneficial to man. Mathematics ushered in an age of invention and a understanding of the response of nature to our actions in terms of mathematical concepts like distance and speed. That is why people trust in mathematics and science more than in religion. If tommorow, religion is able to produce a product, for example show everyone that God exists by bringing him down from heaven, then Mathematics will suddenly take a back seat to spiritual enlightenment.
Man only holds value in the product that is produced by his faith. Quantifications of product are all faiths, for quantificantion has no use unless used somewhere. If I say that 1 is 2, and if it is accepted by everyone in the world, then that becomes the new truth, the textbooks of the world are rewritten and life goes on. If half the world disagrees, this creates two sides. One of two things can happen, either side remains secular, and there's a real confusion in communication between them, or war breaks out where one side fights to make 1=1 and the other side to make 1=2. Man's avarice makes war inevitable, and this is what is happening with religion today. The only truth in the world is logic, and even that, to me, is a little absurd.

Irony of conformity

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 13:28:00 +0000

We expect everyone to talk in a certain way, and when that person does not adhere to the stereotype, we look at him with animadversions, with malice if he's somehow speaks with a foreign accent, or with ridicule when his accent carries traces of some regional dialect. It works both ways, but manifests itself more so in the former. The absolute questions that come to one's mind, 'Why is he speaking like that?', 'Does he think he's better than me?' and in more extreme cases, he is condemned before even getting to know him. The air is rife with accusations, 'You're putting on an act', 'Act Indian, Angrezi Babu'.
What's strange is that those who speak of individuality, that look to be different themselves from the mass, by wearing 'hep' clothes and buying the latest in American brands, thrust such conformity upon that poor soul trying to adjust.
The fact of the matter is that we're torn in a battle of differentiating ourselves and conforming to societal norms, the boundaries of which vary from place to place. The westernization of certain parts have brought about change in urban India, but have touched rural India in certain aspects only. They wear western jeans, listen to western music, smoke western cigarettes, but are not prepared to accept that someone can speak like one. That is how it has become. Society in one part of the country forced him to conform to one standard, a change which is looked upon in hatred by other parts. He's not putting on an act, he's become the act, it is a part of him now. He is that person. So what does it matter how a person speaks, what happened to the ideals of words are the window to the soul. Who can deny having talked to an "Angrezi", and not have changed their manner of speaking. The irony of conformity.

Republic Day

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 14:58:00 +0000

The Republic Day weekend, one which almost everyone looks forward to for a three day respite from the drudgery of life. But this republic day is different, on I will try to open your eyes and make you see the truth behind government, why we really need it.
Rules dominate our lives, we consult rules even before taking a step to cross the road, and when the traffic light signals us go ahead, we oblige its order. Rules tell me not to watch certain television programs, since they are considered inappropriate, and rules tell me I cannot walk naked in the streets, since it will make other people uncomfortable. One begins to think, what man would choose to frame such arcane rules, and to have such arcane rules imposed upon himself. Why would he subject himself to the torture of imposition of such ludicrous procedure, when he already has his parents for that purpose, and that too from a government that he knows to be corrupt and inefficient.
That basic flaw of humans, that one emotion which dominates all other emotions that drives us to do what we do - fear- is responsible. We impose rules upon oneself in fear that others may do us wrong. We fear change, we fear betrayal, we fear poverty, we fear death, the root causes of all the laws in the world. We've seen different types of governments through the ages, autocracies, in which subjects feared their rulers, so they did not revolt, and rulers feared subjects and thus made them live in abject poverty so that they could not revolt, dictatorships, in which rulers imposed a fear of the opposition countries into the subjects, and the subjects fearing the opposition, and of course the dictator, towed the line, communism, where the people feared the gap between rich and poor would be detrimental to progress, and so they sucked money from rich and the entire country became poor, and now democracy; fear of all other types of governments drives us to this proposed, government for the people, by the people ideal, in which a group of elected people would decide what other people were allowed to do. Of course you could sugar coat democracy to make it sound like chocolate cake, Ill bet the Chinese still do that for communism, but in its raw essence, it is that you don't trust other people to make rational decisions so you elect people who seem rational to have your decisions made for you. Man is not truly a social animal, it's fear of no order that has driven him to develop society, in which uncivilized behaviour is frowned upon, and people are conditioned to conform to society from birth, to be civilized or be frowned upon.
Im not saying down with democracy, hey Im just as afraid of my crazy axe weilding neighbour slicing me up just because I walked too close to his door, as opposed to the usual head nod we share each day, laws introduce consequence, and consequnce protects me, unless he really was crazy, we should just realize that this government, that is toted to be the ideal, is nothing but the better of all evils.
Long live democracy.

The Gateway March

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 19:45:00 +0000

I attended the march at the Gateway of India today, and it was amazing. The number of people that turned out was overwhelming. The lines we huge and people were angry.

As I stood in line inching forward eagerly towards the taj, people shouted slogans like "Bharat maata ki jai" and "Pakistan ki maa ka ***". While some contreversial banners urging india to attack pakistan we unfurled, some banners showed messages of peace and solidarity. Differing opinions of people did culminate into one central idea though, we love mumbai, we love India, and we have had enough.

As I reached the Taj, which stood as majestic as it did the last time I saw it (clearly they had cleaned up) I felt a sense of pride, of belonging, and a little uncomfortable from being shoved by the crowds. "Jaana Gana mana" was in the air and I stood in attention, while looking, just speechless at the beauty of Taj at night.

Its fantastic to see how the will of the people triumphs, that democracy actually fulfills its objective. Remarkably, young India showed its face as a disillusioned group that is in the know, and knows what it wants from government. It turned a lot of heads. News media from around the world covered the story, as a strong political message. Congress calls for Vilasrao deshmukh to resign. The wheels are turning, hopefully we have a leadership now that protects us against these terrorists. Maybe an approach like the USA might not be appropriate in combating terror, but some approach is needed. We cant approach each situation in a "lets touch the fire and learn from getting burnt" way. We need to have a comprehensive internal security policy, a sound financial policy and never forget that soverignity is paramount , we can never lose that.

All hail democracy. Its the lesser of all evils.

Ad mad

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 15:17:00 +0000

I recently came into the possession of a folder , full of ads of ye' old days, cadbury, bajaj, and the like. I remember seeing them while growing up, in the middle of my favourite programme, at that time a minor annoyance, but today it struck a completely different chord.

I found myself becoming overwhelmed with emotions of pride, nostalgia and a strange sense of pathos at lines like 'Hamara Bajaj' or the almost forgotten 'Kya Swaad Hain Zindagi ka', when the cricketer hits a six, and the female rushes on to the pitch to perform some wierd eplieptic dancing steps, that you cant help but find charming.

But is it really the ads, or does the pathos mask my regrets from my childhood days. The great ads are the ones that people use as checkpoints of their lives. A lot of other things are also used as checkpoints, the cricket match in which India lost and Kambli cried, and India shared his tears. But ads form a most strange way of changing our perspective of the world. After all, they are meant to change our perspective of the product that they mean to sell, but there is always fallout. Ads percolate into movies, movies into real life, real life into ads, with a little touch up (a carton of make-up or so).

Virals are the phenomenon these days, since by definition, they are so addictive, one has to pass it on to another.

Next time you see that ad which makes you laugh or makes you feel proud, be sure that some day in the future you'll be using that ad as a checkpoint for your life, and somehow, it has changed you.

Man with baby

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 04:36:00 +0000

A woman walks onto the bus, she looks around, the bus is full, in fact more than full, it's overflowing. Its one of those rare days when the bus looks like a train going to pakistan. There's no place to sit, let alone stand. She has a baby on her shoulder, cute as a button, looking around confused at what all the fuss is about. And then out of the blue, an angel to the rescue, a kind soul offers her a seat and takes his place, to be crushed by the seemingly thousand people standing in the bus at that moment. The woman acknowledges his sacrifice with a nod of her head. This is the stereotype which we have often encountered, perhaps even been the good samaritan in.

What if we place a man in this situation. The man boards the bus and has a child on his shoulder. He has a responsibility as a father and the poor misguided soul believes that he will be extended the same courtesy as the female. Some stare at him confused, the kind soul yields to thoughts of indecision, should he or should he not give up his seat, his expensive piece of estate in this impossibly crowded bus. Some look away as if they've not noticed him at all, but their expression tells a different story, it's just someone else's problem. Some comfort themselves with the thought that he's taking advantage of the kid in order to get a seat in the bus. Group thinking is a fantastic phenomenon, brings out the best and the worst in people. He stands waiting for a seat while people give him guilty looks and comfort themselves with their personal reasons for not getting up.

So what has changed? Why does it seem as if the introduction of a man that the entire good samaritan equation has been turned on its head?

But what if the man were more attractive, or what if the baby were more cute, would a woman be ready to sacrifice her seat for a man. I've never seen it occur in a bus. Have the women subconsciously considered it the male "prerogative" to be chivalrous and throw themselves in the line of fire.

Why is it that a woman wont give up a seat for a man with a baby?

Order, the Universe and Everything

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Fri, 28 Dec 2007 11:57:00 +0000

Confucius say- "In disorder alone lies the key to order and to inner peace".
Ok, maybe Confucius didn’t exactly say that, and maybe inner peace was bit of a stretch, but the, evidently unevident, moronic, or rather, oxymoronic, making people perform inappropriate hand gestures, so self-deprecating that it threatens to blow up the universe, argument, cleverly masks a truth that could change our lives, or at least give us something to ponder over the pot, which is, where one might notice, a different kind of disorder terminates, well, at least for those who had that extra burrito for lunch, Hola!

"Clean your room or you’re grounded", sound familiar?
Wouldn’t it just be more peaceful if we were just let be. What the point of cleaning up was, I never did understand, and then they lectured me on something they called hygiene.
Somehow, I always managed to find that missing game Cd for the XBOX or that last piece of yesterdays pizza in that rubble that is my room, although I might lose the occasional assignment, which is always attributed to the dog, of course. Then when our things are left "lying about", it's considered to be "in the wrong place". Apparently there’s this invisible table with things and the places they are supposed to be in, which we are not privy to, and only on our ascension to parenthood is it passed to us in inexplicable ways.
Why is it that they feel an inexorable urge to pick said items up and put it into this "safe place", so safe in fact, that even they forget about its location, when just an hour later you ask them where it is. And they get pissed at us for asking them where our stuff is after they’ve disposed of it.
The problem is not of the parents asking us to clean our rooms but of society as a whole trying to squash order into our naturally disorderly lives.
We make lists, appointments, wage wars to have order even thought it seems utterly ridiculous, ridiculously pointless, and pointlessly depressing. Yet we do.
We have to follow a plan of action, even though jumping in head-first would be more fun, we have to be analytic even when our analysis is an impediment, we have been conditioned to do so.

Wasn’t the whole point of creating order to make our lives easier? Wrong.
It was to shield us from change, the thing that all species are most averse to. Somehow they thought that having order (regularity) would give them a stable and a more happy life.
They said that making a schedule would make my life easier, it didn’t. It just made me aware of the number of things I had left to do, and that I’ve not done anything. I almost had a heart attack. It made their lives easier knowing that they had given me some advice which they thought was sound, since they actually assumed that I worked regularly.

Order, they say, is brought by countries, by religions. Order is brought by wars that were waged on these ideals. Millions of lives lost for the sake of order, devastating change brought about by the fear of change itself, of each individual trying to spread order which to another individual was disorderly(did anyone say terrorist?) and had to be squashed, a society held on the framework of mere niceties which on yielding would lead to total and utter annihilation.
In such a situation only the quest for disorder can save us in our personal, political, and religious or anti-religious lives.
A sense of recognition that everyone is different, and that this isn’t just a politically correct something to say. Some may say that the statement implies that religion is useless, country is useless, and that I am an utter nut. Some may say that all efforts to unite us to protect ourselves, by being a part of one religion, one country, one community, or even a relationship has led to our division, which has in turn led to further division and destruction, in a kind of a chain reaction.
This leads us to the "Man is a social animal" argument, a very popular debate topic for debate clubs all over the world since the debate was ever invented. Some would say that, by inference, man is thus a loner, and thus all emotions, love, hate, dissatisfaction, angst are farce.
If man cannot feel any emotion in reality, some might say inner peace cannot be achieved, he wouldn’t have any necessity for it, and hence this entire argument has been a futile circular contradiction that cannot disprove or prove my initial argument.
Yikes! I know.
Now here comes the twist,
If god can be proved to exist, (atheists look away) on the basis of mere faith (you can look again atheists) or the fact that he just simply cannot de disproved to exist, why should my argument be any different?
I could’ve brought up the 3rd law of thermodynamics, and with a ridiculous play on words here and there, voila.
The argument is supported by both physics and by faith, which is more than I can say for the concept of God (which is advocated by religion, which is again an institution to impose order us, but let’s not get into that here).
Such a truth, if not be the ultimate truth, then what is?

In yo face "42"- for all you Hitchhikers out there?

eXams eve

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 18:14:00 +0000

I tried so hard to comprehend the words written in those pages. But all I could make out was some indecipherable text probably written in some alien script, designed especially to confound all but the geniuses of our dear earth, problems to confuse even the rocket scientists of our world. Or Perhaps Im exaggerating a little.
I know my exam is tommorow, and that I am going to be completely screwed unless I get at least some of my studies done, but then, it was hard enough working up the courage to open that mountain of a book, with only the aim of examining its contents, let alone actually understanding something within it, which would be a very welcome side benefit, not to mention a gargantuan task. Perhaps some GMAT can help you out with your doubts. But theyre too busy revising for the umpteenth time. People all around you, completely immersed in their books, and youre left reminiscing about the salad days, the days when the counter-strike servers used to be packed to capacity, and which are empty now. If only you could find someone, someone as clueless as you are right now, perhaps you can take solace in the fact that you are not the only 'dud' in the campus. Either youre too lazy to go out in search for him, or youve got bitten by the GMAT bug yourself, and are suddenly stuck to your books like glue.
Perhaps I shouldnt have left this for the last day, perhaps I should have paid attention in class, instead of dozing off, or Orkutting on my mobile phone.
So I make myself this promise, more like a resolution, In the next semseter I will definitely study regularly so that I wont be in this same situation again. Never again will I procrasinate my studies. Who knows, if I have time, maybe ill come up with a timetable or something.
But wait just one second, that reminds me, didnt I make the same promise last semseter?

Rise and Shine

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 18:10:00 +0000

Its funny really the different ways people respond to a cock-a-doodle doo in the morning.
Waking up, the most dreaded part of the entire day. Whether your sleep is interrupted by either that clanging alarm clock sitting on your table or that idiot playing Death Metal next door, you feel like getting up and hitting the source of irritation with a ten ton brick, and then going back to sleep.
Staying in a hostel you often get entrusted with the inane task of waking the neighbours, to get to a class which they never wanted to attend in the first place. So you can understand their reluctance to awake from sweet slumber.
Every night, you get the same story, "Wake me up no matter what it takes.", and who can forget that false reassurance, "I promise, I will definitely get up this time". Finally, youre left standing outside their door, at 6:00 in the morning, in nothing but your towel, banging on it, a noise which could surely wake up satan himself, but somehow failed to wake your principal. And then he finally graces you with his opening of the door, and thanks you for waking him up, but it seems his highness has changed his mind and he's going back to sleep, so im supposed to wake him up in another half hour. And youre left staring at the door in disbelief as he shuts at your face.
There are another class of people to whom I refer to as 'the angry loafers', people who get incredibly violent when you wake them, inappropriately. Ever sprinkle water on an angry loafer's face to wake him? Never try this at home, it isnt fun. Its like you opened the gates of ruddy hell. They are known to pick up anything within their reach and hurl it at you. When a pillow is coming at you at 40kmph, it doesnt seem too fluffy anymore. Ouch.
Of course there are those who are loopy and suggestive when they wake up. Theyre almost virtually drunk when they awake, and respond with babbling rather than in proper sentences. You can tell them anything and they will believe it, until of course, they get their morning cuppa coffee. They have to get up but want to be told to go back to sleep, which they will on even a slight suggestion.
There are those 'feather sleepers', who wake up with even the slightest sound, or the slightest change in the temperature of the room. They should really think of using them in security systems or something. They could do with a couple of feather-heads to beef up security at Knox.
In contrast there are the people who can sleep through earthquakes. Shout "Oh my god, wake up theres a Tsunami coming", and theyll say "Ya, whatever". I guess the bulk of the natural disaster casualties would have been people who just couldnt wake up, when they heard that fist scream.
They call it a bad habit. They say that sleeping like a log is a deridable quality.
They just dont get it. Sleep is our only recourse from the rigours of conscious existence. Its the only thing that can prepare you to face yet another crappy day. If you dont consider sleep to be somewhat of a religious experience then at least consider that it keeps you from feeling hungry for about 7 hours in a day.

Passing callousness

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 17:53:00 +0000

Yes, I have talked about the inevitable 'situation malheureuse'. Guilty as charged, I just wanted a fancy french way of saying an 'unfortunate situation'.
Well thats the thing see. While there is this extreme of people actually coming up to you and harrasing you by asking you to tax youre brain into remembering lost memories, which was until now, preoccupied by thoughts of which programme is on the tele, or what your mum is making for lunch at home, there exists the other exteme, people ignoring you altogether.
We walk past millions of people each day, preoccupied by our own preconcieved notions and our problems. Our entire lives which can be encapsulated within a story, a story of hatred, jealousy, joy, depression, or of hope. Those fairy tales that were recited to us as children, are subsets of our own lives, fantastic representations of what we wanted our life stories to be like when we became adults.
The person who just bumped into you would have his own story to tell. One of the millions of stories, of all those people walking along that same steet as you are, somehow intertwined with each other. Millions of people so dependent upon each other, yet oblivious of that fact.
People put out outward appearances, pretences, sapping them of any empathy. The poor boy who walks on one foot and begs for a living, is nothing more than white noise.
Its not remarkable that we were unscathed by the bombay train blasts or any other terrorist attacks, its just that were callous.
Anything that does not affect us directly is of no consequence. The minutes of silence are all a part of that clever outward show of social gratuity. What has society given us in the first place that we need to be so gratutitous.
Do we need to be thankful for the corruption, the omnipresent poverty, the ubiquitious apathy towards the plight of the fellow human being.
Even friendship is taken so lightly so as to call every accquaintence a friend.
The passing callousness, the rude glances when you dont fit into the norms as prescribed by society, the growing formality in friendship. The signs of a society in degradation.
The signs that we need to change. The signs that niceties need to be replaced by genuine good will. The signs that if we dont, we will end up as hollow shells devoid of emotion, and hope.

Passing courtesies

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 16:20:00 +0000

How many times has it happened that youre casually walking along the road and see someone that you absolutely dont remember, and yet somehow, youre supposed to know, since they know you. Not a single recollection of the face or the name, someone so insignificant that you might have talked to them just once, but never bothered to record their identity, but simply dismissed them as a ghost, a remnant of your past. Well its time that ghost came back to haunt you.
And then comes the dreaded question, that you wished hed never ask, you had actually hoped hed ignore you altogether, hoped that he would have been struck by the same oblivion that had infected you. Fat chance.
"Hey, remember me", he says. And with those three words youre paralysed with fear, bound by the compulsion of social gratuity. Those three words send you into a frantic chase through youre memories, searching for even the minutest refrence of this smiling individual, standing before you, thinking hes just discovered an old friend. Little does he know about the truth. Youre left with nothing but a vague recollection and a fuzzy picture as you try to squirm out of the situation with no avail.
How much do you want to say "No" and walk right out of that akward circumstance, but you couldnt, you just didnt have the balls to do so, and you responded in the affirmative.
And as he starts talking about old memories, you have nothing more to say than "Man those were the good old days", and all the time youre thinking, what did i do to deserve this?
Social niceties, theyre supposed to tie us with niceness. But they feel more like a noose, tightening with every passing moment. Whether its your neighbour, whose guts you hate so much you could punch a hole in it, but every day you grant him that cup of sugar he asks for with an outward smile, while inside youre exploding with rage, or its the government official who youd like to see fry in oil in the fiery depths of hell, but you have to be nice to in order to get your work done.
Were a victim of our own creation.
And then we complain when people are actually rude.

The Dentist Chair

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 07:00:00 +0000

I was at the dentist's office yesterday. The horror.
Just a regular check up, I hoped. Man, its when they take out the heavy artillery and shove it down your mouth does a regular checkup turn into a stroll thorugh hell. And then you wonder which malicious spirit possesed you when you decided to make the trip to his office. Hoping that was not my situation, I sat there in not so eager anticipation of the dentist finishing off with his current patient.
So Im sitting outside the office, in the waiting area, a half an hour wait for a two minute checkup, how typical, I wasnt complaining though, and the dentist was finally done with his patient. This guy had more instruments shoved in his mouth than the ruddy space shuttle. And then the instruments were replaced with the cotton stuffed in his mouth.
This guy was old, really old. I doubt Id have understood what he said even if he did not have all that cotton stuffed in his mouth.
However, the doc, I guess in a really optimistic mood, he asked him, "Any questions?". How ridiculous could someone be to ask such a question, especially in that man's condition. And this person, replied with something that sound to me like nothing more than a mumble, albeit, a long drawn out one. Curiously, the dentist responded with something that the man considered a satisfactory answer to his mumbling.
Needless to say, I sat there bewildered at what the hell was going on. Was I hallucinating with all the boredom, or had aliens invaded the earth while I was asleep and changed the language of the world to something I simply could not comprehend.
After so many years on the job, the doc had finally deciphered the mumble tounge which had eluded us for generations.
Next time youre in that dentists chair, wondering about why youre paying the sadistic ass ripping apart your gums a butt load of money, instead of kicking him in the nuts, remember, when hes done with you, hell be the only one who can understand what youre saying.

Oh and for all of you wondering how my visit turned out, my teeth were fine, and I ran out of there before he could change his mind.

Cartoon memories

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Mon, 16 Jul 2007 11:31:00 +0000

Man I loved life as a kid. You could take a bite out of that irritating uncle who always wanted to pinch your cheeks and it was considered cute, do that now and you suddenly have a lawsuit on your hands. Woah.
I remember breaking extremely expensive crystal swans in another person's house and yet it was dismissed as childish enthusiasm, with a frown, of course.
I remember the back of the bus, the hangout of the big boys, where no small boy or girl dared to venture. And I remember sitting there everyday, to listen to their entertaining stories and their foul, yet amusing tales. Call it Bad Word 101. And then when the bus went empty, I remember playing cricket using only a paper ball and a plank. I also remember harassing any of the girls unfortunate enough to be left in the bus.
I remember the countless boring hours spent inside the classroom, wishing you were outside.
I remember the countless hours spent outside the house, punished for breaking curfew, waiting to get in.
I remember making fun of our teachers, behind their backs of course. And I remember being punished by them for not keeping my mouth shut.
I remember ogling at the girls, inside and outside the classroom.
I remember bowling with friends and my name being misspelt on the scoreboard, causing countless hours of ridiculous teasing.
I remember waiting for cartoon network to begin after that stupid TNT channel.
I remember the time Star Plus actually was an english channel. Man am I old, or what?
I remember the first time I had the sweet sweet taste of pizza, been hooked on it ever since.
I remember the good times, I remember the bad times. Everyone has the cartoon memories of their Salad days.
Its remarkable how I can remember so much and not remember to brush my teeth in the morning.

Words that make you laugh, that make you cry...

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 18:29:00 +0000

Theyre the words that make the most macho, hair on their chest, scar on their face, peg leg,rum brandishing men, giggle like schoolgirls. Allusions to something that are considered taboo for discussion, deadly puns of the anatomic kind. Double Entredres designed to make you rotfl, which I couldnt make heads or tails of until someone told me that meant 'roll on the floor laughing'. How was I supposed to know that? And them im called uncool for not keeping up with this ridiculous lingo.
They come up in the most akward situations. Theyre so subtle that you might actually use them unknowingly. The best is when the teacher utters such a word and the entire back row erupts into peals of laughter. Ya, those are the moments you recollect, when youre having a reunion, and yet they still manage to make you laugh.
An entire conversation can be carried using those deadly puns, trust me, ive had fair share of them. Considered perhaps inappropriate for social affairs, but whats a dirty joke between friends eh? Hysterical laughter fills the room and then you feel all good inside cause you just told a successful joke, albeit a dirty one.
I donno what wrong with these kids.
Man, I remember as a kid i used to refer to these as corrupt jokes. Cover my ears, as the big boys played their oh so tiring game of insult antakshari, which I later found out was quite fun actually.

Then there are the words that make you cry. Those painful words causing angst and regret. Those words driven by hate and malice. Those words laden with the truth we refuse to accept. Hurtful or decieving, devastating or gruesome, they are designed to inflict pain on the reciever.
The question I ask is that, why were they included in the dictionary? Is it human nature to want to inflict pain on the other? Why couldnt we manage conversation without having such insulting words? Why do we resort to blaming others rather than to encourage others to do better the next time.
The fault is in our choice of words. Next time choose carefully.

Too many problems..

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Sat, 07 Jul 2007 20:29:00 +0000

Theyre telling us the worlds problems are because of poverty, disparity between the rich and poor causing malcontent with the growing economic rift.
But if money cant buy happiness, why do we bother.
So they say, the worlds problems are because of ignorance of the goverment towards the plight of the poor.
But whatever the government does is supposed to be for the good of the country as a whole right? If I remember my 'by the people for the people' correctly. Hey, it does not work to serve the interests of any a single class, be it the poor.
So they say the problem is corruption. Corruption, that keeps the poor hungry, and the coffers of the rich overflowing.
They say a lot of things. They hold big concerts thinking the worlds problems can be solved by a little song and dance - Im watching Live earth right now.
Theyre trying to convince you that by doing youre part you can actually make a difference.
If you ask me, the problem of the world is quite simple, the laziness of man.
When you wont get up your fat bum to change the television channel when the remote is broke, they expect you to recycle.
When you wont give a few coins to the beggar on the street they expect you to donate to eradicate world hunger.
While you sit in your 24hr air-conditioned office on that plush leather chair, they want you to conserve.
Man, arent they asking a lot from a bunch of callous, indolent idle ingrates.

Lost in Translation

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 11:03:00 +0000

Ok, I was watching a Taiwanese movie yesterday. Dont ask why. I was bored.
So im reading the subtitiles and then I get a call. And I turn down the volume. It shouldnt make any difference right, since I was understanding the movie through subtitles anyway. The magic of foriegn film, I thought.
But then I discovered something strange, even though I was reading the words and watching the picture, I never really undertood what was going on when the volume was muted. It was a surprising discovery.
Only then did I realize, a movie is not about just the words or the expressions. I guess the music and sound also plays a huge part.
You cant really understand the raw emotion and the passion that the actors put into their roles if you arent listening to them.
I guess that applies in life too. I dont think were listening enough. We too busy engrossed in our own rut, we fail to notice the birds and the bees.
When was the last time you noticed the bird on that tree and not because it just peed on you? When was the last time you sat down to listen, and didnt hear the traffic hum, or the television blare, or some bully hurling obscenities at his victim. When was the last time you enjoyed what you heard?
I dont think we listen because we feel its not that important. Even our education system focusses on the words rather than the passion behind them.
Were all trying to say something that the world just doesnt understand or is willing to accept. Were all speaking the same language yet stikingly different dialects.
Were all lost in translation.

Shameless self advertising

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 05:48:00 +0000

Ok, so some guy leaves a comment in portugese on your blog which you do not understand. Wierd, but its cool, more ppl are reading my blog right. Then you get curious and run his comment through the altavista translator.
Brilliant, hes advertising his own blog and something which appears to be free T-shirts or something. Do I have to put in a set of ground rules now ppl? Please dont make me set restrictions on comments to restrict free speech by besmearching the blog with such shameless self-advertising. Life is unfair in itself without more people trying to make it a hell for others.
You like, comment on it.
You hate, comment on it.

Life is like a box of chocolates

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Mon, 02 Jul 2007 12:16:00 +0000

Bullshit.
I guess it was always the case that real life was the subject of movies. The cinemas were based on our trials and tribulations, our problems, our hilarious moments, designed to make us introspect or even forget about them altogether.
What I do question is when did movie life start seeping into the real world? When did we start becoming so influenced by the movies that we abandoned out our life path for a path advocated by the movies.
Take for example the extremely skewed perspective the movies offer on college life. First of all, those actors look old enough to be our aunts and uncles, and secondly, we do not suddenly break out into song, with a hundred people performing carefully synchronized dance sequences. Whats that all bout? Well i guess that is the case with most bollywood movies anyway.
Then there are those movies which depict life as a dream for their protagonists , and in contrast, those which depict them to be an absolute hell. In my opinion, the latter would be a more accurate description of life.
And then there are the people who actually pay good money to go watch those movies. They who fawn over them, their actors, elevate them to a pseudo-godlike status, vote for them, or rather, for their on-screen characters, during elections.
Ok, so we finally know the reason for this melange, people are stupid. In the words of 'Tommy Lee Jones' from 'Men in Black', "A person is smart, people are stupid". Kind of an appropriate quote for the article if you do consider it.
Stupidity is a deadly virus. Try not to catch it. Keep with your won opinions and ideas, and remember movies are movies and real life is boring, confusing, and a pain in the bum. So enjoy real life.
For those of you still saying "Huh?", the title is a quote from Forrest Gump.

Music that kills

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Sat, 30 Jun 2007 12:37:00 +0000

Man I hate that song. My skin crawls, my blood boils whenever I hear it, yet it seems to be stuck in my head. The worst part is that its your roomate loves that song and he is hell-bent on playing it every waking hour of every single day.
And then you hear others talking about that song, how 'awesome' it is, and all you can think of is holding yourself back and not punching them in the face. And theres the song again, jingling away in your brain.
What do you do? What can you do? When your mind is under such an insurrection. Its culpable terrorism, I say. The song, slowing eating away at your brain cells, like a virus. I can almost feel my IQ dropping by the minute. There should be laws against producing such horrible music. "You have doth besmearched the holiness of music, and thou shalt be hanged". Ya at these moments you feel like hiring some assasin to go out and kill all the Paris Hiltons and the Britney Spears of the world, and pay him a little extra to take out some of their crazed fans as well- refer to the fist paragraph to identify my first victim.
Its a conspiracy by the book publishers. Flood the world with crappy music, so that everyone stops listening to music, and have to start reading books for entertainment. Ai caramba.

Pointless

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 17:05:00 +0000

Have you ever seen something so utterly useless, something so completely pointless, you almost feel angry at its existance, frustrated by its very sight. And then you realize that this object of insanity could only have been created by either a human being extremely well endowed with stupidity or by the government. If anyone knows how to squander others' money its them, right?
I felt exactly the same way a few days ago.
So Im walking on the road, heading towards the bus stop. Yet another day in my life. And then suddenly out of nowhere my bus approaches, so I run, and of course, story of my life, dont make it in time to the bus-stop. I couldave sworn there was a sadistic smile on the conductors face when he pulled the chain signalling the driver to leave me behind.
And then I saw it. The object of hate. It made my skin crawl with disgust, my heart palpitate with rage.
It seems they put a plaque at the back of the bus, advertising the bus number, as well. Wow.. thats convinient, or is it?
What message is that supposed to send?
Hey man, congratulations, you just missed bus number xxxx, in your face loser?
Which 'genius' at the bus authority thought it would be a good idea to put a plaque at the back of the freaking bus?
Maybe there was a big meeting, in a room full of the directors and the big hotshots of the bus people who took this decision and then they called a press conference announcing that they would be putting up a plaque at the back of the bus, to make our lives easier. Ya, who cares about world hunger when you can now see the bus number from the back of the bus as well.
What pisses me off the most is that these people will be ready to perform the most insignificant task to cast the illusion that progress has occured during their time in power, but will do nothing to repair the rain-weathered roads, unclog the drains, or rehabilitate the slums.
But, in the end, who cares about those things anyway.
We finally have a plaque at the back of the bus.

Nothing at all...

noreply@blogger.com (Subodh Iyengar) — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 17:29:00 +0000

I think weve all had one of those days when nothing happened, nothing of any seeming consequence whatsover, other than you sleeping, eating, and visting the john. Was the highlight of your day the Heroes season finale? Wow, youve got some real problems.
And then youre reading my blog. Youre problems just got bigger.
I usually write about the wierd stuff that I see going on around me and the irony that shrouds all our lives, the same irony, which we choose to ignore, in order to make our lives more bearable. Because, if we did accept this irony, we'd be laughing our buts off all day, at our helplessness,our lack of control over our situation, yet our compalaceny towards it. Of course that recourse is only for the people who really appreciate irony, since the irony of the world can be pretty nasty, and only by laughing at ourselves can we deal with those issues which we would normally brush off as too depressing to discuss.
Life plays a game with us.
Im warning you, Im going into spiritual mode now.
Perhaps life is a like a long drawn out examination that every being has to face. Pass, and you get a ticket to heaven or eternal bliss or whatever you may call it, however, fail, and you are doomed to repeat it, in an endless cycle.
Pehaps the hell that they speak of is none other our pathetic existance on earth. And perhaps heaven and hell are just visualizations for our state of mind. Perhaps they are expressions for our worst fears and our greatest hopes.
So your day has been uneventful, your life is boring. Big deal. Stop moping about, wallowing in your self pity.
Switch off your computer. Get out and do something.