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

Junior Moments

Every second, a minute treads on….every step, a mile bygone…. Another pile of work on my desk….another mime of murk on my face…. Oh the days of childish grace.

The credit of the lines above goes actually to those numerous people I met, including friends and foes, knowns and unknowns, whose continuous longings for their childhood days made me rhyme their feelings (somewhat). Every odd minute or so, I would hear or could make out at least one yearn, begging to live those ROTFL- moments again. And then, when an antique collector used to upload a group photograph of high school graduation on some lame social networking site, Jesus, a destructive flood of feelings and emotions was what would occur soon after. To worsen the things, would accompany a downpour of ‘miss those dayz bro’, ‘the best dayzz of ma lyf’ and ‘those were da dayzzz’, which would make me wonder what could next be. Loads of crying smileys?  But do smileys really cry? Anyway, I leave the multifarious human expressions untouched here.

These events sometimes give me a cold feeling. They make me feel inhuman of some sorts. The reason being, I fail to experience the same eruption of emotions in me as by others, when it comes to such occasions. But the knowledge I’ve gained so far, rejects any possibility of me being sculptured out of stone. Neither do I have mastered the kaizen, which would have finally made me control my breath and thoughts, just at a thought. So, what could the reason be? It’s simple enough. I don’t miss those days, just because I live them whenever I feel I’m missing them! 

This may seem a bit immature, but wasn’t this what we were looking for? I bet. This is what I call a ‘junior moment’, which can be a momentary lapse into immaturity caused by youth or inexperience. Many a times, I suffer from such moments. When my imagination runs wild, I tend to mix various worlds, unaware of the realism, in which they lie so far apart from each other that it would require only a child’s brain to put them together. Another such activity practised when I’m in the junior-trance is the reconstruction of a given situation with lots of ifs and buts and suppositions, thereby driving me to think of weird possible solutions and arrive at weirder conclusions. Sounds kiddish? Perfect. Further, cracking a really-really poor joke and looking at the bewildered and at times, angry face of the listener is indeed an LOL-moment for me; can’t guarantee if the listener also feels the same. But I end up happy and that’s what really matters. Mind you, I’m here, in no form being selfish. I’m just being childish. :p

“What’s for dinner? Broccoli? No way, mom! I’m never gonna eat that thing. In fact, I’m not having dinner tonight!”  Oh, my arrogance, and that too at a time when I really can’t afford, is a perfect ‘little-example’. I’m not sure if I really enjoy this particular moment since my empty stomach makes me think of nothing but food. But, like a kid, I’m writing in everything I know, anyway. Arguing on practically nothing with a friend and thereafter not speaking to him for a few hours or days, even though I want to, reflects the somewhat-non-adorable boy in me and the fact that I’ve mentioned this negative fact here, presents to you the unbiased behaviour of a child.

The examples are countless and just a little amount of thinking makes me identify them. I’m amused when I do notice them and the feeling is no less than great when I relive them. Finally, when I return to the real world, I feel relaxed and refreshed and ready to go with an increased energy. So the idea is clear. The people, who you deal with now, may not be the ones, you worked with before. Still you can be happy if you just follow an amateur advice:

Let the minutes go, let the miles flow, never bother….Things around you may change, but the child in you won’t….So let’s laugh some more….Let’s be a kid again. 

Fusion versus Confusion

I wish,‘birds of a feather flock together’,actually meant what it seems to. But just because the twenty six alphabets of a language known for its simultaneous subtlety and straightness, can be scrabbled to form such annoying antonyms, severe synonyms, lengthy lexicons, vicious vocabularies, and above all, myriad meanings, that could leave one cribbing and bitching and lurking in the dark for long, surprises are surprises no more. A similar phenomenon occurred when the birds were flocked, wolves were packed and straws were stacked. Or maybe, I interpreted it wrong once again. Anyway, the expected unexpectedness is here to stay.

Coffees of similar strengths, workouts of equal lengths, raps with same rhythms and perceptions with equivalent visions- Oh dear, we have a perfect pair, and then slowly, the pair turns into three, increasing thereafter, until saturation is achieved. Naively, it might look like me preparing a catchphrase for a ‘family planner’s guide to success’, but since I’m not, this makes it just another rightful entry in my list of common confusables. Never mind though. The stats are updated every time I pick up a pen and a paper, or to be more truthful, a keypad and a Kindle. (‘Keypad and Kindle’ actually refers here to the tech forms of writing these days. Blogs are one of them. It’s natural to be confused by this phrase. Hail the multitude of the language).Moving on, these people, whose encounter, according to them was tested, okayed and approved in the heavens way before they were born, derive a pleasure when they eat the expected, drink the defined, laugh alike and adorn the same stripe. Wow. We finally stand united! As a bonus, we sit united too! At last, we are where we wanted to be.

But on giving this thought another spin in my mind, I end up whacked by the witty words once again. How could they get an upper hand this time around, when I was so very sure? Boy, I being no more than an ordinary being can’t take a thrashing every now and then, especially in a game I consider myself to be somewhat good at, if not the least. But to cover up anyway, a reason always exists, and if it does not, it is made to exist willy-nilly. Well this time, I blame it on my excitement in seeking a successful society as soon as possible, which in turn, navigated me in the direction of misjudgment. What initially seemed to be a unity, had ultimately divided the society into numerous patches of all but similar colours, imparting to the world, all of its hues (and cries). These patches never seemed to morph into even a meager mélange, but the brightness of each alone went berserk, as if to fade away the others with an inundating intensity.

Nevertheless, excuses, what I believe, are certain occurrences which would die out only with the sun and wind. Similarly, these ‘divides’ are very cleverly veiled by cloaks of similar interests, similar pastimes, similar passions and similar fashions. Oh, even my words have started sounding similar now! But a jerk would never care, until and unless he bothers a bit to expand his thoughts beyond the boundaries of his annoying orthodoxy. Alas! He never would; he would never be a real jerk, wasting his time in an unwanted interaction, which he very smartly tags as an unscrupulous intrusion. The arguments sound diplomatic indeed.

There seems to be only a single breath that could be squeezed out of this otherwise dead rubber, and that too in the form of a hope; a hope that these grain boundaries would dissolve one day, thereby leading to an amazing assortment. This, in fact would be the best thing to have around. The canvas would be painted evenly; shades would modify; older ones would be bettered and newer ones created; tinctures would blend, presenting to the human eyes, their most soothing sight ever. This fusion would release in the air, positive vibes possessing an energy which would be comparable with that released by its nuclear counterpart. Linguistically, we would finally have a phrase which would actually signify fusion instead of confusion.

Night of the Champions

At that particular hour, when He woke up in sweat, suffocated and severely satisfied that He had had enough of hallucinating hearings from His sons-prayers, plying for perfection; deliriums, demanding a direction; expectations, enclosing excellence; sighs, surrounding super success and bribes, baying for better butter and breads- the Almighty underwent a change; edited the gazillion-year-old, treacherous tome of Human Management; wringing out a few new rules from the holy quill, strangling to death, the cursed and the booed ones and holding back with Him, His favorite ones. An attitude adjustment of this might was accompanied by a shake of the earth and a tremble of the moon; the unlucky sons still engaged enormously in their chores, deaf-eared to the sonic boom.

Despite such a shift, the sun shone, somewhat timidly though; and the winds continued to blow, not happily so. The birds bore a baleful look, the rivers rued and the skies swooned. But synthetically, the things seemed bright and big. Not a hint of inexperience could be sensed out of the thin air. The situation was just so perfect, materially. Everyone was dressed to the nines, looking dapper and smarter. The overall efficiency of the world had increased by leaps and bounds, thanks to the changes in the law book, which apparently seemed to be working out for the humans. Sciences advanced, inventions rained, industries flourished and more mouths were fed. These ‘developments’ took place at a rate, numerous times greater than the previous ones in the history ever; the sole reason being the ‘All, Bonds at work’ this time. A superior site was in sight. The records fell like apples on a windy day. Guess who’d have been the happiest person? Newton! But we already had, at present, some perfectionists lurking around, in fact, many of them, far better than a Newton, an Einstein or a Maxwell. And none of them bothered to stick a neck out, only to take a look, since the gargantuan improvisation in their performing capabilities and in turn, the unending expectations of each and every kind from them had left with them, only miniscule moments of respite, and those too were booked in advance by their breaths. No regrets though. The burden of success was not despised to any depth by these great minds. They seemed to be enjoying it, on the contrary. All of a sudden, the world’s vocabulary started dealing in the superlatives: fastest, greatest, richest and the best; the next form being, ‘better than the best.’ There seemed to be not even a single room for error. From the cradle to the gate, and from the origin to the end; every execution was precise and pure and perfect. Maybe the sons got finally, what they had wanted. Or not?

Actually, this meticulousness came at the cost of the lesser mortals. The lower levels of the hierarchy had to serve as stepping stones to make their successful counterparts, more successful; sorry, the most successful. And what was next? No doubt, the commons, needed no more here, were banished from this faultless world. And whosever left, lay in a squalid and redundant state in the filthiest corner of the poorest street; their value not more than a penny, or not even that. The urban lights never cared to lighten the lives of these excess and dying men, leaving them to be engulfed, one day, in the stark darkness of ignorance and exile. Their ruthful cries could never reach those aristocrat-ears, deafeningly blocked by the foulness of fantasies and fanfares. But there was still some more, waiting in the stock, to be unleashed.  

The haunting part turned out to be the rate of this mass destruction, which seemed to be getting way faster with each new discovery made by our Dexters. The bar separating the high and the low, the savvy and the sod was rising; taking in everyone, belonging to those levels which were considered better, a few days ago and the best, a few weeks ago. Holy Grail! The end was nearing, and nearing fast. The situation was grim. A scintillating gloom had arrived. A night had descended. And this night seemed to last so long, till her creators did not surrender to her, completely; till she didn’t win over them, single handedly; and till she didn’t make them experience a kink of their lifetimes, cruelly. She was hungry for ingenious blood. And, no doubt, the present scenario was providing superbly to her needs, making her more intense and inveterate. Utter horror prevailed around. She sounded like and literally was, the Night of the Champions.

                                 

You just got it wrong....

Things could have been entirely different if I did not do what I did but did exactly what I was expected to do. How? Let’s take a look:

• Two years back, if only I had overcome the urge of my fiddling fingers to darken those bubbles of the JEE OMR sheet which I shouldn’t have even thought of considering unless I were at least 80% sure, I could have been savoring the weary work load and filthy food, the IITs are generally so famous for. Or what could have been even better, I could have achieved a day’s fame in the newspapers soon after I had joined the hall of shame of those students who finally give up to these draining and strenuous tasks, leaving behind haunting memories for their room-mates and some really lamenting ones for their inconsolable parents.
• I could have avoided getting a ticket from the cop if only I had dismissed the idea of feeling the gentle touch of the rejuvenating breeze on my face and caged my head in a helmet instead.
• I could have been ‘committed’ to some insane and moronic airs of that cute girl if I had carried on the silly conversation she had begun, in turn, leading me far away from my cronies and making me iterate nothing but some false and fed-up praises of her looks and locks all day long.
• I could have continued my streak of being healthy and non-sick for some more seasons only if I had locked myself up in my room in place of going out and playing in the rain.
• I could have bagged the scholarship if had scored a handful more marks in the board examinations, which as a bonus, could have awarded me the anxiety of getting a C.G.P.A greater than 8.0 every semester and a fear of not getting the same.
• Further, I could have been a known face in the university if I had kowtowed to the ridiculous and dreadful demands of the so called seniors and served instantly at their beck and call.
• I could have been the owner of a Greek-God-like physique if only I had enjoyed the chaffy and fibrous diet for just a few more years, in spite of my frequent visits to some really royal restaurants and junk joints.

Hey presto! The scenario seems far better this way. So what if I achieved it by neglecting the whimpers of my wailing heart, bellows of my bare soul and puffs of my panting body? So what if I limited my thinking, clichéd my actions and frisked away the humorous intentions in this fray? At least, I proved myself to be right, socially and morally. At most, I generously donated a few years of my life to gloom and pity. But this doesn’t really matter. Does it?

Just give it a single thought, if only we were destined to follow the rules and regulations in a copy-book style, I guess the human brain would have been the least used part of the body and the human heart would have just pumped blood. We would have begun ‘born’ but ended up ‘manufactured’ one day, with the same old programs ‘burned’ in our brains to perform the desired activities in the desired sense. Creativity, innovation and novelty would soon have become a thing of the past, monotony and stereotypy soon replacing them thereby.  

I feel relieved and ‘human’ when I recall the above mentioned instances. It’s heartening to know that the situation is still not that bad. Human tendencies to go against the law have still not died down. The naughty flame is still alive. We generally are lured into doing those tasks which we have been asked not to do otherwise. That’s what keeps the courts buzzing and the authorities busy for most of the times. I would always fidget with the electric circuit boards at home, inserting and testing things of different materials and then turning the switch on to make sure that I guessed the conducting behavior of that species right and also to have an electrifying experience at times. I would find it just the right time to check my speeding skills when a cop spots me helmet-less.

Yes, it’s true that I don’t always end up on the winner’s side but I do have a satisfaction that I’ve at least converted my tendencies into actions and no one else except me is responsible for the results whatsoever.

Also, such ‘wrong activities’ provide an experience of which you can boast later on, thus proving your mettle. But more importantly, they give you an insight into the real life and prepare you for the battle ahead by making you stronger, not with success but with failures. A worldwide belief that wrong means lead to wrong ends is at many times wrong. Obviously I’m keeping myself confined to trivial wrongs, since I’m mature enough to differentiate between seemingly wrongs and real wrongs. Anyway, if  a kid were asked to write an article on “Failures are the real teachers”, then he could have easily grabbed 5 out of 10, if he had included some of the points mentioned in this ordinary piece, provided he had written in a beautiful hand, of course :p

Hence winding up, the next time things don’t work out the right way, give the wrong means a try, not always though. Wrong can be called a slightly distorted form of the right. It’s twisted. It’s inverted. And it’s convoluted. As a perk, it comes with an extra thrill, frisson and fright which are missing in an otherwise traditional way of achieving a particular goal. And not forgetting what a ‘hurt’ Johnny Cash once said,” I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel.”

So, try believing in wrong. Cash it. Spend it. Enjoy it. You’ll fall. Get up. Move on. Just remember that wrong ain’t always wrong. Unfold it to discover the right hidden inside. Doing right things the wrong way can hardly be a crime; but please don’t take me wrong: p