The Witness

It would be almost two days now that I’m home alone, and tell you what, the foody issues do crop up. Though my culinary skills are not bad, but still, when the solution is just perfectly round chapattis (round enough to keep me trying for ages), I prefer not to be the solver of the problem. And so, there’s this old fellow who runs a shack nearby, along with his son. And things are fine enough for me and my requirement (you’d not go to a rave restaurant for a handful of chapattis! Would you?) to bank on him for a day or two; quality-wise too.

Today, as expected, I went up to him, only to be a ‘witness’ to an incident: As requested, the good old man started shaping out slim circles out of the dough. I stood, waiting outside- totally wrapped up, hands in pockets, but still struggling for some warmth from the cooking stove close to me; the unforgiving wintery wind only made the wait longer. My minimal meal still being prepared, and up came his son-newlywed and the latest entrant into the cusp of manhood. I had always been circumspect about this guy; he seemed somewhat different. And then I came to know about the mental instability, he had since childhood. I guess that’s the reason why I’d always noticed him….why he’d always been so shy….why he’d always seemed so simple….why he’d always looked so real. Anyway, some good-for-nothing fellows walked over to him, and just to idle away the endless free moments they had, started their sarcastically irritating conversation, no doubt, featuring him. I could see that helpless one turn down his head (in front of those cacophonic cowards), and mouth out the misery and soreness he was feeling, in the form of voiceless whispers and exuding expressions. Before I could think of a thing, his father, leaving the stove flaming furiously, roared out like a lion and shooed those pathetic dogs away. I couldn’t help it, but just watched!

Soon after, my wait was over- I took the fresh hot package, paid for the stuff, and started walking back, still revisiting what I had just witnessed (and why did I just ‘witness’ it?). I had just seen the purest alliance in the world; the strongest bond that ever existed; the one between a father and his son, or, between a parent and his child. No matter where you go, who you meet, whatever mistake you commit, your parents would always be there to cushion you, when you fall back, and in case, they are not, they’re making you learn the hard way. Really, at times, the worth of a movie is actually realized, and the lesson it tends to give, more sincerely taken, when you’re a witness to it, and not a character. 

The Coward One

Not a lion's roar, not an eagle's eye           

Feet on ground, never did he fly

Sinew-shroud, sun-dried

Soul in skeleton, not a tower-high

Mortal, mushy, newly naive

He felt, he pained, he could cry

Neither a Noah, never a Christ

He was just another guy.

Alone was he, in an alien land

Tricksters talked, pomp and grand

So scared; mum he would stand

Hypocrites howled, forked and fanged

Fakes flared, burning his hand.

Eyed him the evil, hungry and glad

And there he lay, lone and bland

Petrified by the phony,

Had died the poor lad.

 

I now wonder what he did

Or what he did not

That got him killed.

Those showy strands

He could never put on

Those cheesy chairs

He could never fit in

Those malicious melodies

He could never dance on

Those baleful breaths

He could never take in.

Just that, every bit

His lips synched his heart.

Spoke straight

Be it dumb or smart.

Could identify

An art or a shard 

Thought little

And he would laugh.

Only if he knew a knack

He would be on top of stack

Only if he had a mask

Would have served the task

Alas! He never could find one

And so, never did a man moan

The fate that betide the coward one.

I've grown up....

Remember Junior Moments? Well then, this post might look somewhat contradicting to it, in first flash. But it’s not, credulously, to say the least. See, it’s always rewarding to have a collage of colours surround you. A plume endowed with a symphony of shades is picturesque indeed. A rainbow is no less than bliss to gaze at. The scene gets even more soothing if we add a human life to it; if a few feelings are fused with these colours. Or the other way round; colours are combined with the feelings. The result is enchanting, either case. Following on a similar basis, I don’t think anyone would now mind me behaving childishly one moment, and grandfatherly, the other. Thus, the following few-line anecdotes present to you, that bigger-me. But before highlighting them, just to tow in some more textures, and throw in some more tinctures, I would identify two aspects that make me feel I’ve grown up: the extremely evident and the slightly subtle.

The extremely evident

• Beginning with most easily noticeable; the age old albums---memories-gilded and reminisces-bound--- depicting a little-me---taking my first step, holding mom’s hand; peddling my tricycle with dad following me closely; fighting with the elder brother for the last piece of his birthday cake; performing at our school’s annual day (if, by any chance, standing in the last row on stage, dressed similar to the two rows in front of you, in terms of clothes and expressions, is called a performance), accepting a Secret Seven volume from the principal for standing second in the class--- are nothing but a biological as well as chronological proof that I’ve grown up.
• When I’m not able to fit in my older jeans, it’s a clear indication that I’ve grown up……or maybe that I’ve put on a few kilos. Obviously, I like the former excuse.
• I now have a separate room of my own…..stay up late in the night; not afraid of the dark solitude anymore (well almost)…..I’ve grown up.
• Two years back, I was issued a voter’s card, thereby, officially and legally giving me a ticket to embark upon the journey to adulthood.

The slightly subtle:

• No more half-ticket travels now; a full ticket is what I have to pay for, each of these days….Okay, maybe I’m expecting a bit too much here.
• After the completion of my first year at college, I, in fact, we all, had to submit their anti-ragging affidavits, so as to make the way secure for the new admissions. This event reminded me of my growing age.
• Juniors at college and some strangers outside---the punctual postman and the speedy courier, awaiting my signatures; the untimely salesperson trying to sell off his wares---call me ‘sir’. This certainly gives me a senior-feeling.
• And when there’s a partition at our cultural and tech fests, separating the boys from the girls, the ‘I’ve grown up’ reason surely helps to pacify a kind-of-non-conservative-me.
• When dad’s not home, I’ve to drop mom at workplace. She sits behind me, and the moment she places her hands on my shoulders, I feel good.....and grown up.
• Not all are positives though. At times, a lot of fuss is created when mom asks me to go to a Ladies Sangeet with her. I really get angry at this idea, just because, “Mom, for God’s sake, I’m a man!”
• “Are the sleeves folded up?” “Are the jeans torn at the knees?” “Are they blue?” “Is my cologne virile enough?” “Is my new haircut hip?” “Am I listening to the latest rock band?” “Am I ready for college?” Yeah, I’ve grown up. 
• At the end of the day, when nothing but only music could soothe my frayed nerves, an unintentional intrusion by dad in my room makes me say out, irritatingly, “At least knock the door, papa. I’ve grown up now!”
• After this, there are some non-family signs of the same. Like my every-year- growing disinterest in burning crackers at Diwali, owing to the ever increasing pollution; giving lift to an old pedestrian, or helping him cross the road. 
• At lot many instances, I find myself to be a part of a group of youngsters whose discussions are not just confined to cricket, but span the Copenhagen Summit, Ayodhya verdict, the Wikileaks and lots more. I guess, not a child’s play. And definitely not a ‘time-pass.’
• Just by chance (or while un-cluttering the mess in my room), when I come across a junior-grade scrap book of mine, bearing some early scribblings, I realize the difference between my past and present writings. This difference brings a smile to my lips.   
• Further, my being frequently frisked while I enter a mall, cinema or a sensitive religious place, while a 5-year-old standing next to me goes in, untouched, makes me think(yes think!) that I’ve grown up.
• Lastly, a friend sitting next to me, puffing out smoky circles, notices me getting uncomfortable, only to ask, “Hey, don’t you smoke?”An amazingly blank look on my face makes my soul say out loud, “Oh dear, I’ve grown up!”

The Simpler, the Sweeter

It’s just that moment when bells start ringing in the minds of Indian engineering students. Not of Christmas, I tell you. Begin the dying months of their bachelor’s pre-final year; bells-in a swerve in their style, and preparations for the Common Admission Test rigorously pile; just to, as they say, ‘bell the CAT’; so they finally land in one or the other of the top B-schools in India. It’s a common practice here, or maybe, just a hype; an ego, an obligation, or simply a trend, which makes one follow the other, blindfolded. Since, why on earth would anyone, exactly, waste four precious years of his life, acquiring and polishing his technical skills, if he ultimately plans to merge into the management stream? Seems seriously insane! Anyway, I’m not here to guide you through your careers, neither do I have any sort of plans to interfere. I guess we all are ripe enough to be right.

Continuing, if Electronics and Communication is what you are pursuing, oh boy, you’re in for something bigger. Coinciding with this CATastrophe, there exists, a confusion regarding the six-month-internship. You generally are caught in conflicting thoughts-whether to go for the kill; assassinate your internship with complete devotion and desire, or to settle things out; punch a few warm-up-blows at internship and keep the real strength reserved to pounce back upon the CAT. And some Bonds tend to have the best of both worlds! (Better not to mention such people here, for the words might turn highly harsh and offensive.)

Time and again, I keep confronting people, who already have in their brains, a blueprint of what they are going to do in the coming 10-12 years of their lives; education, job, career, marriage. Oh Jesus, turmoil! Bless these young little visionaries! ‘Just listening’ is what I could bring out the best at such times.

My idea behind this reference is certainly not in favour of making a life waver aimlessly like a ship set sail in a storm. The idea is to reduce the complexity involved, nothing else. Success is sweet, no doubt. But it’d have been sweeter if were attained simply; no nerves, no midways, and of course, no dark circles. Let me quote an instance here, which I think befits this idea:

The selections for the interns started with Goldman Sachs arriving at our university. Oh dear, what a scene it was! There were speculations about the procedure of recruitment, about the genre of the qualifying test, about the level(s) of interview, about the stipend the chosen ones would be getting, and finally, who those chosen ones would be! I too was swept away by this tide of hullabaloo and hysteria, for my name, though somewhere in the end, was in the list of those probables. And then, after asking every other on the list about what to prepare, I found myself in an interesting situation: I had to revise almost all I had studied in the past two years……and just had a night at my disposal. Getting aware of this fact, I could manage out only a grim smile. The task was practically undoable, and as expected, I left it to God’s will. But a stress always remained there in my mind….an anxiety always annihilated me….an envy always made me wonder what others would be up to, at this hour. And then a friend, who had not applied, called me up to ask if we’d be having classes the next day, since the selection was to start in the morning itself, and a large number of people were opting for it. Shocked, I asked her the reason for the same, to which she replied that if there wasn’t any class the following day, she could just well go back home early that weekend. That was the limit! Soon, I spotted the difference between the mindsets of both of us. How simple and easy the things were for my friend at that moment! She was totally calm and composed, which in turn, led her towards hope and happiness. My being almost the opposite of her at that moment- frustrated with fuss, tied with trouble and drenched with dilemma- made me itchy and stressed-out. And if you think that I at least tried to succeed despite such pains, then you might be wrong, for I never came anywhere near to clearing the test. Coming back to the phone call; a real smile finally returned to my lips. “No, there won’t be any class tomorrow. Off you go, little fellow,” I said to her.

There were a few other incidents earlier when I had felt somewhat similar, but had discarded them as meaningless. But as for now, I hope you and me, both got the ‘idea’ I was talking of some moments ago. Things continue to become complex as long as we let them be so. Lesser are the choices, more are the chances that we take the right decision. And more is the probability of us being successful. And guess what, success achieved this way is simpler. It is better. And it is sweeter.

Tonight was his.....:)

Sometimes it so happens that you just can't deny a person (intentionally or unintentionally), a thing, he really deserves. It seems as if he's been doomed to be the owner of that prized possession, one way or the other.This precious thing could be as trivial as the last piece of his favourite tee-shirt at a store or as important as the job, he had been dreaming of since childhood. Or just leave all of these! I introduce you to a far more simple example:

Not as always though, but I was really tired today and so went off to take a nap. The nap soon turned into a gratifying slumber within no time. But I had forgotten about something really important, of which I was not aware at all. Ugh, my sleep was disturbed by an untimely phone call soon after.(Actually it had to be). After repeated but unsuccessful attempts of returning to my dreams, I finally turned to the internet, just to get myself notified about the birthday of one of my closest friends, which was just in an hour or so! Oh dear, how could I forget that? Now you might feel like laughing at this. But guys,such things do matter in friendship; just to show that you care, and in turn, you too derive pleasure from them. And more importantly, you keep those bonds going, strong and young and blonde by following such occasional customs. Thank god, I didn't miss out on one. (And the next one who I'd like to thank is the person who called me at such an ungodly hour).

And for now? Obviously I'm waiting for the clock to strike 12 so that I'd be the first one to wish him.He deserves it...in fact, he deserves a lot more than that....and he's gonna get it, no doubt. :)

All I need...some solitude and some music :)

This particular phenomenon has become popular enough with me that it at least deserves a mention: When a hectic-odd day renders me too feeble to talk to anyone, I just rush back home and climb upstairs, consuming the last few drops of fuel left in me; into the arms of my most faithful friend….my room. J Its being upstairs separates it (to some extent) from rest of the house, and from rest of the world, thus imparting to it, an X-factor …..divine solitude. J Oh, I’m so glad to find such a solace at last. This loneliness, when coupled some alternative rock(ing) in my ears, heavenifies the things. J My frequent smiles tell the entire story. And then I close my eyes......I’m in a world, not really virtual, but definitely not real….where I see myself do what I can’t imagine myself doing consciously. But something’s still to come…..when this trance lasts for long, I’m already feeling something more divine, something more satisfying….something they call sleep. J  

A text-book review.....our EC-tyle \m/

nMOS.....pMOS....CMOS....CMp__n__ ....CM Punk....Punk....Pink...Pink Floyd....Floyd...Freud....Sigmund Freud....!!!!!

And the distortions go on till I close the book by Sung-Mo Kang and Yusuf Leblebici on CMOS Digital Integrated Circuits; the pages as unruffled as ever. Not even for a microsecond, should one think of me being dyslexic here. It’s just the aftermath of Mr. Kang’s bang on my head that leaves me staring listlessly at the enormously expanded equations and the least- enchanting expressions. But as a sincere student, I’m here to highlight the positives of such power-readings.  

The ones who believe that a great writing requires a great idea and hence, a great mind, might be in for a concept-check, since if a least-known 8-pointer with the minimum possible knowledge of…..um…..the terms ‘electronics’ and ‘communication’( or are they said together?) could reach from Fabrication to Freud via Floyd after a few hours of unconscious gaze at some pages studded heavily enough to force the likes of Salman Rushdie to put on a thinking hat, one could very well imagine what wonders a 10-pointer could have done with his exclusive know-how of the course and unending experiences of attending ethical hacking workshops, smart car competitions and rigorous and out-of-the-world/country summer trainings, if he had just taken a careless look. He, within a few weeks, would have written an international best-seller! It’d have been an innovation at its best….a tide at its crest.

But imagination is just not enough. Alongside are required the reiterations i.e. to present the same thing to the reader in seemingly different forms. I just love them and it was actually the reason behind me going for Electronic Devices and Circuits by Mr. JB Gupta, where such repetitions are so pronounced that any two pages selected at random could be cut short into two paragraphs, provided no connectors and punctuation marks are ignored. But look at the brighter side-concepts just glue to your minds after you read them again and again. Indeed an effective way to learn. Isn’t it? At times, when I had the desire to enjoy some complex reading….something which would drive my lethargic brain to toil hard and understand the subtle meanings of the English language, I trusted nothing less than the writings of Mr.Millman Halkiyas. They suited the situation just so well. At present, Simon Haykins seems to be the guy who could match the wit and cleverness of the former. In fact, some noteworthy hints of mathematics visible in his writings give him that extra edge.       

So very often, I’m taken to an entirely different world; thanks to my text books. Plus, they make me dream….after putting me to sleep, thus discarding me out of the danger of insomnia. A clear winner in this category, according to me, is none other than Mr. S.M. Sze. If yellow is your favourite colour…..really? Okay, even if it’s not and you want some hours of tight sleep, close your eyes (not literally) and pick up VLSI Technology by S.M. Sze……Ass Em Sze……Ass Eminem Sze……OMG, I’ve started dreaming again! Anyway, the ones who couldn’t find any kind of writing-inspiration from the previously mentioned texts, are surely expected to love this popular piece from the Mc Graw Hill publications.

Summarizing, if you want to write well or enhance your vocabulary, take a nap or even doze off, try out any of the above mentioned healthy techniques. Still, if you don’t have enough bucks to buy these books, search for the ‘ECE 08-12(TU)’ group on Facebook and send a request. And if accepted as a member (wow!), you could surely get a taste of such a medicine, if not the entire dose, by having an access to the powerpoint presentations posted on the wall of this group, which contain nothing but some excerpts from the same books. Not a bad deal, I think. But do remember to comment a ‘Thanks’ after you go through the same. Or, at least ‘Like’ it. :p