Some err Training

How does it feel to stand in a busy subway, facing the scampering crowd, and being stared at unanimously, in as long a bracket of time as their fleeting moments of distraction can accomodate? Well, not exactly the kind of questions I think upon at leisure, but I sure found out the answer the hard way.

Why are the authorities so hell bent over us bending over backwards in an industry where our presence is as out of place as a Storm Trooper in a traditional Indian wedding, is another question altogether, when owing to our absconding interest, learning anything of consequence is a function of individuality. I am in the class that spends their time in the Industrial Training making a mental list of all the possible (or impossible) "I'd rather be".

So the first day, chronologically, the most awkward, started off with me standing like a mime, and the people passing by giving me "the looks". And this continued till they individually had not gone beyond sight. My choice of clothes did not help much either. I was the sole guy in a T shirt, to start with, amongst the blue factory shirted "gentlemen". Also the semi naked, long haired, wrapped in barbed wire guy in a foreground of "Dimmu Borgir" exacerbated their misery. (I personally like this shirt the most among all my band shirts. >.< )

After some inevitably and insanely time consuming formalities, they admitted me as a summer trainee. I was apparently in a "Winder ASSY" division. Not the perfect aperitif for curiosity. Yet the impressive line up of "Winders" in the factory did take me off guard. I was introduced to the workers at every assembly division, and was soon going through a graphic description of the type of winders in gory detail. I was trying to imagine the same book as a Frank Miller graphic novel. Not much reprieve. Not to be inacceptibly cynic, there indeed were a few, countable on fingertips, interesting aspects to it. I saw the machining of a CAM shaft, which KronoS had taken pains to explain over dinner so many times, just before we switched to Star Wars. It is a pretty neat mechanism. Also, I saw some larger than life equivalents of ineptly drawn textbook machines. Ah, protocol dictates I write down everything I see in the factory, and truth be told, I did just that. My personal observations, uncensored. Here are some of the consequential things I happened to notice, written with the appropriate expression, although am not sure whether the university will approve of these in the report.

It starts off with "Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'intrate" written over a huge rectangular block labelled "factory". (For those who haven't read Dante, and also for the majority, that means 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter'). The more factual observations follow suite right after a hangman and scribble "Die fatso die", (to document the 'fatso', who took inane sadomasochistic pleasure in being rude for no apparent reason, apart from the horrific realisation of his being mockably overweight), "Whoa! Respect! They seem to love localites", "sigh, could do with an espresso (martini?)". Then there was "The day of the Vernier". When I measured everything I could with the digital scale. For the records, the Vernier Calliper manual was 27.38 cms thick. "Lol! Rude dude is wearing a Pink shirt... FAIL!!!", "Resins, A La Carte", "Hey, Wait, I've got a new complaint..." and by then it was pretty much out of hand. This is all exclusive of the unaccounted doodles of The Grim, Batman, The Batman as Grim, blank white spots labelled Cullen pest, and some goal depraved storm troopers...

I finished the effective "training" in a weeks time. They realised I am pretty much incorrigible (I did try to give them a spoiler alert on that earlier) and any attempt to teach me uninteresting garb will be a waste of their, and what's infinitely more disturbing, my, time.So the rest of my "official" time there is spent "unofficially" practicing the Iambic Pentameter, reading all the books I wanted to, designing my tabletop contraption and pursuing my insane fanaticisms like 16X16 Knight Tours, factorising mobile numbers and throwing mental insults at the engineers who bother me, in a politeness distinctive of Klingon alone. In my defence, the regime was boring. Beyond the point of reversal. To be honest, were it slightly more interesting, I would have still been bored, but maybe willing to pretend I wasn't.

A week more. If possible, even less. Time for my 2 credits, please. And yes, I would like some fries with that.

PS: I have left out some gruesone details of the commute, boredom (wonder if that is evident), and the confinement. Will come back to those in a later post, perhaps. In the stages of development. Contemplative, for now.

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Happy birthday Kronos!

Birthdays are an elegant unit of time, which does not involve much ambiguity. This post is just to wish KronoS a very happy birthday today.

His existence has been noted as one of consequence, ability, and talent.

I congratulate him on having completed his 19 years of life. 19 is my favorite prime number too.

* double clink *

Have a nice day bro.

And JFTR, according to our trusted source, "Uncyclopedia" :

On this day...

March 23: International Take Your Fish To Work Day 139 - Roman historian Erraticus publishes the fourth version of Life of Trajan, this one portaying Trajan as an emperor and retracting the previous version's claims that Trajan was a talking donkey. 1097 - St. Peter's Basilica was first used outside of the Vatican city during the first Crusades. 1952 - Enid Blyton publishes her most famous work, The Three Colliwogs. 1962 - Dozens of women march on Washington D.C. to politely request feminine rights. Their husbands go without supper. 1974 - The last dirty liberal is sent to serve in the Vietnam War, rendering America a perfect utopia of conservatives for nearly eighteen months. 2011 - Chuck Norris succeeds in destroying the last internet meme when he roundhouse kicks the final remaining Rick Astley music video into oblivion.

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La 'Chaim!

"To life, to life, La 'chaim"

Somehow the song from Fiddler on the Roof keeps playing in my mind in an eternal loop, whenever the order emerging out of a usually chaotic life is a happy realisation.

Its been a mathematically usual, but psychologically long year. And this entry is a vague ( Big understatemnt this, for i can hardly recall all the details, and will need a separate blog to sum up all, but as is my intention here, a harmless and light skimming over the surface is more like it) summation of the year's significant happenings, and a joyous recollection of an awesome Christmas and New year.

So as I look back, the good things to have happened to me were a greater inclination towards metaphysics, mythology, religion, literature and music. While it did stake on my indulgence in an aphorismic equivalent of killing time called "academics". The after decimal half of my grade shifted a niche left on the scale believed by many to reflect intellect. Although the widespread acceptance of an idea is not proof of its validity.

However, more on that later, maybe.

Next came my passionate indulgence in Metal, which included headbanging sessions, opening myself to all genres of Metal and letting it accept me, learning to play some Metal stuff on my new acquisition, the ESP EX-260 and Digitech RP 250. \m/

Also visited Chennai once, for food basically, and Bangalore (Yeah, i TOO hate the new name) for fun. Met my long time online friend who happens to go by the name Siddhartha Nagarajan, a.k.a Dino, and another metalhead. He was generous enough to play guide to the city and then host to a Reaper/KronoS duo with his impeccable hospitality. I recall the party involving sumptuous amounts of chicken and Aqua Vitae, for those who wanted. Ran into fellow college mates almost everywhere in the city, bought my first Metallica poster, which had the legendary Cliff Burton (RIP) in his showmanship brilliance.

Also, owing to copious amounts of peer pressure, started, wait for it, watching How I Met Your Mother. A nice series, must say.

Another significant companion I got this year was Caffeine. It helped me stay awake, initially, and now runs in a parallel stream with a more crimson comrade. (KronoS, in a sensational display of his mirth and power, broke my mug. Which, i shalt not forget in finite time... * Plotting * ). Also finished 3 semesters of engineering, which, although may sound menial, is actually a herculean task.

Christmas was LEGENDARY. Literally. All those episodes of "Million to one" on Discovery channel that used to awe me for the sheer impossibility, rather, improbability of the situation and making me feel insignificant, was reciprocated for. I came to Delhi in little/no hope of meeting my friends who lived here, and of them, the best friend of mine (Apart from KronoS, ofcourse), whom i had NOT met for 7 months, when i enquired, was found to live not only in the same area and locality, but the same lane as I did, here. Which called for an obvious, not to mention interfered with divinity, reunion. Had a nice time, nay, AWESOME time. Also, Saket citywalk holds as the biggest mall I have seen, as of now. It had virtually and literally everything inside it. It was like a parallel universe with an independant civilization and intellect. The fashion consciousness of Delhites is formidable to a more intellectually inclined individual, was one of the most important facts i noticed. I also observed subtle examples to the "Cheerleader Effect" or the "Bridesmaid Paradox".

Of the memorable things I saw were DAVE MUSTAINE's and TOM ARAYA's signed guitars at the Delhi Hard Rock Cafe. (How i escaped embarassment there is another story i would love to narrate in dramatic exaggeration). Also saw Jaysurya at a few arms distance in the DLF Promenade Reebok showroom.

The rest of the days were spent painting T shirts, and going about the city ( On my friend's bike, in the mindnumbing cold) with it having nothing to offer, apart from some fast food. Seriously, the places here are not worth killing time "hanging out" in.

New year, as fate would have it, was again pretty good. Was at a friend's place, for the night, partying.

Well, it was not as ceremonial as this sounds, with just 3 people to it, but wasn't as solemn as the number suggests, either. The twins were a good host, and new year began with roasted chicken and iced espresso. * the complete contents of the mixture have been witheld for sake of modesty *

What followed was definitely something the cards did not predict. The train back to college was crowded, and excruciatingly so, and not to mention, boring. Had the best time reading Lost Symbol, and documenting the * to be searched * stuff from it. Was made to play dumb charades, a game i do not dislike, but can never bring myself to play voluntarily. The company involved some completely random collection of guys and girls from an artistic assortment of colleges in chennai and other places. The session "was" fun, i admit. But what followed was not what my idealization of spending the night is. Was made to listen to an obstreperous list of clubs and hookah joints in Chennai and an illuminating account of club life. To make my condition even more amicable, i was made to listen to, well, club music. "House" and stuff i had mainatained a holy abstainance from. I ended up grieving my temporary host by admitting my hobbies to include Science and Literature. Which turns out is no common taste for spending time doing. And soon, i was back to college, with its architecture looming over my head in an immodest complacency.

The new semester begins.

Scores to settle.

Critics to be answered in action, after long inaction.

New leaves to be turned over.

Happy new year.

La'chaim!

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The Caffeine Hypothesis

Self note : Coffee prepared in a ceramic "coffee mug" tastes, not to mentions smells, a million times (eschewing exaggeration) better than one made in a "thermally insulating metallic mug". On a scale of 10, with one being an imbecile impossibility and 10 being metaphysical certitude, I personally rate this hypothesis a 9.5, keeping the maximum in a fit of hope and optimism (maybe cynism too), for an incident which far exceeds this one. Not that I think it will, but the prospect of it happening is a thought of stupendous merriment.

Caffeine and Metal, is a juvenile juxtaposition. Or so I allude, after having witnessed it first hand, and second mug. And my allusion is set apart from illusion by the very fact grounded on the terra firma of my love for coffee, which bestows me with the ability to criticise. You cannot criticise what you don't know the bright side of. Then it is just an ad hominem dissection. This nested theory has just 2 exceptions. War, and Chetan Bhagat.

Re entering the first hypothesis, this is the deal. I scythe (I don't use whips, noob) up a mug of coffee in the hostel room, with the precise balance of ingredients and lo, what I have is but a similar tasting brew as compared to what, say Lord KronoS made the other day (Other day is a metaphor for an hour ago). The metallic interference inducing an olfactory aberration (kepping in mind that smell is the major component of taste) is a reality December layed naked in front of me. It DID appear to be funny how no matter what I try, the overall response of my taste buds to any composition of coffee was more or less the same. But the same mixture, at a macroscopic level ofcourse, at home tastes better, and the only difference is that the mug used is a printed sunsign series of Ceramic coffee mugs, and not the allegedly thermally insulating (and now olfactorially isolating) mug with the innards as metallic as its effect is disheartening. Some galactic interference the Bell labs should try to explain, I'd say. I know not if it has any more physiological implications, apart from the psychological deprivation. And I hope not, either. The hints of rust at the bottom of the mug was never quite delightful everytime it disappeared under the deceitful boiling water, and now as I come to think of it, like a summer tempest the horror grips me. Heat accelerates chemical reactions. Water and metal haven't, by history's word, and scientific reassurance, been neutral allies, rather conflicting rivals. And all those coffee sessions, and the finished jars on the shelf, the session markers on the door, the hang, lead me to this day, when I decide the future of the godforsaken mug vermin.

The crack that propagated on its surface in unintended ubiquity will find a deeper root. I plan to hurl it across the balcony. And there is no looking back. I already got a De Motivate series mug by Archies which says about Winning, "If you don't succeed in the first time, its probably because you are a loser". I suggest Lord KronoS to procure a ceramic mug for future caffeine indulgances, for his own benefit, and tasteful bliss. For there are hardly any problems, a cup of strong coffee cannot solve...

S.I.P

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Frankly speaking

Anything. That's what an astute KronoS tells me, blogging is about. Just about anything, no matter how mundane it be, the realms of a blog do not elude the ones who seek it. All and a blog is ONLY as incarcerated by guidelines, as your mind allows it to be. All you have to do is, be true to your motive, and in hierarchy to that, should posses wit as sharp as nascent shrapnel from shattering glassware. And that in itself is an apt summation of an otherwise astronomical list of guidelines for writing.

But its been a while since I've played dead to taking an initiative to write here, so here I am, against all odds, and most distractions, writing in jolly

abandon. * Cringes at the half wit dialogues (from cavern mates' laptop playing dubmass movie) he can't block out because they are too half wit and equally loud *

Its been millenia since lol, lmao and its metaphorical kinsmen called smileys have been lined up as medieval artefacts in a virtual anitiquity outlet. And as oft as my chat partner spelled lol, i grimaced for the action has been far from executed, 2 out of 3 times, and has been sent in a flurry of routine keystrokes, and catalogue of "protocol dictates replies ". The problem I perceive lies in the very foundation of communication online, mundanity. Half the replies, or reply seeking statements come from a well defined list of phrases, which circulate in a redundance glaring out at one who cares to think before typing. And at this rate, half * fears inevitable undercount * the people we chat with can be replaced by a 64 bit program that would randomly generate a reply, from a list of tops 10 options, and will accurately simulate a real person chatting. * Looks furtively for people peeking over shoulder * (Just the scythe sticking out, my bad)

So what I suggest, with all due humility * eyes shining with wisdom *, is to embrace a novel paradigm to converse online, where expressions can acually be conveyed, uninhibited by the jargonic confines of dim witted replies and unjustified lolling to seemingly anti-hillarious * this should be a real word!!! * comments and * rolls eyes * grammatically disemboweled sentences. (Grammar, shalt preach on that later) What one needs to do, is not go looking for "Witticism for

Dummies" or signing up for "SAFL" (Sarcasm as a Foreign Language). All they need is a hypothetical rap, crank, slam or kamikaze crash to their vestigial cognitive faculties. There is NO expression beyond the realm of words. So the next time your friend narrates a story he (yeah alright, feminists, SLASH SHE * no pun intended * ) thinks is funny but it makes you puke your gourmet dinner on your beloved keyboard, rather than lying of a much expected rotflmao, go for a * hits self with mouse on head... twice *. Benefites served : The expression is conveyed as it deseves to be, and you'r still the funny guy.

And no, please do not read this article as a confined " to do " list, diversify. Its not about seemingly funny phrases enclosed in a pair of innocent asterisks, who in all their typographic existence, will not know what they held therein. Its about not limiting the ability to express, just because the crowd, which is usually an assortment of dumb people, do it otherwise. Moreover, there are limited avenues for one to flex their aphorismic abilities. So why not make them, and bring them to our benefit? On a final note, for the time being, realise that your intellect is confined ONLY by your perception of it. Everything else, awaits an explorer, with crystal eyeglass, fluttering cape and a conscience dripping determination. And as I believe, "A word can paint a thousand pictures..."

R.I.P

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