Yet another New Year Eve post!

This year was full of questions. Half of those were at me. The rest were for me to figure out.
Most of them went unanswered, since I started hating people when they kept asking me things for which I had no answers. Answers to those questions that were answered, popped out of nowhere. They  led to more questions. All of them just hang around there frozen in the December cold waiting for destiny to swoop in and clear them up. Oh, it is not as sucky as it sounds to be! :) What is life without a quest. Mine will be for answers.

I don't even remember last new year. It is all foggy. This year seems like time travel. It rushed past so fast, that I had to run along without taking a breath. All I remember the early 2009 is May, when I stayed at IIT. Those solitary walks from GC to Velachery, iced tea at Gurunath, Mango Juices, wonderful Mudita - all of them stay pretty vividly. I discovered a mail I wrote to a friend when I was at IIT that I had forgotten to post. I read it after some five months, and it was so nice :)

Brahma came in and I remember coming to my room every night at 8.55, having left at 8 am and crashing down. I remember the day sitting in Chandru's house taking questions all night watching the rest of the gang dropping off one by one. All those days we put on our best smiles haggling for thousands with one 'Regional Manager' or another. We were swearing so fluently that the effect took quite sometime to wear off! This will perhaps be the busiest year I had at college, for I was in the thick of all that happened.

Post- Brahma, so many beautiful things happened. I walked around in air , smiling and taking time to smell roses. Questions were just beginning to spring . They caught me full on by the end of the year. Strangling me, frightening me. They became haunted my nightmares, made me weep.But things always felt much better and brighter after a good nap. Things cleared up a bit towards the end, bringing in hope for more of questions to get cleared.

I don't have any nostalgia. All I want to be nostalgic about, will stick around with me for quite sometime. I still have three months to take snapshots and store them up.Every year's end brings back the memories of un-kept resolutions. This year I have none, for my mind is so crammed up with events and details :)

I hate these impersonal forwarded Happy New year messages. The people are so lazy to even type one on their own and they randomly forward it to everyone. My very nice and sincere Dad, who is technologically pretty impaired makes it a point to religiously type out a 'happy new year' message and send it to everyone in his mobile phone. He is the only one in my small family to take celebrations seriously. I am very sure, he would wake up at 5.00 am tomorrow morning, like he always does, waking me up with a 'Happy New Year,  sandhoshama iruppa'. He would push the phone to my very reluctant mom .We would gruffly acknowledge each other and would go back to sleep. :)

The best thing that happened in the year, is that they finally changed RF systems design after a mass representation. It came as a great news while we were in lab doing an image processing experiment. Yay!

Years are just bookmarks. All I believe in are chapters. Am towards the end of the old one. My new one has not begun yet.

To finish off, those haunting lines of Poonkuzhazhi

அலை கடலும் ஒய்ந்திருக்க

   அகக்கடல் தான் பொங்குவதேன் ?

நிலமகளும் துயுலுகையில்

 நெஞ்சந்தான் பதைப்பதுமேன்?

வானகமும் நானிலமும்

மோனமதில் ஆழ்ந்திருக்க

மான்விழியாழ் பெண்ணொருத்தி

மனதில் புயலடிப்பதுமேன் ?

வாரிதியும் அடங்கி நிற்கும்

மாருதமும் தவழ்ந்து வரும்

காரிகையாழ் உளந்தனிலே

காற்று சுழன்றடிப்பதுமேன்?

How dark! How haunting and enigmatic.. Kalki is wonderful!

Second post of the day

Ah, what the heck, I know am getting addicted.

What made my day.. Ta da.

Cappachino
French fries
Jeremy Wolfe
G-mail Tamizh
Arulmozhi Varman
Vallavaraiyan Vandhiyathevan
Canteen Mirinda
Thenga thovayal

A friend said "pat,pat" over g-talk. That felt so nice :D, like getting gold star in kindergarten!

Am so pricelessly jobless, except for reading Ponniyin Selvan of course, and hence this sudden blogging influx. Fear not, from the new year day, I will be so bashed by Tennis that won't write so randomly..
Anyway folks, pip pip!

P.S: Not able to resist this... ஐ யாம் க்ரின்னிங் லைக் எ செஷயேர் கேட். :P 

Taamil post :D

Okay, here goes. After discovering how to type tamil in gmail compose, have attempted writing in tamil. It has been quite sometime I wrote in Tamil. Last time was writing a shopping list for my mother. The last serious one was a story writing contest in 8th std. It has been almost 8 years. So please pardon my awful spelling mistakes if any!

பொன்னியின் செல்வனை போல் ஓர் புத்தகத்தை தமிழில் நான் படித்தது இல்லை. வகுப்பு அறையில் இந்த புத்தகத்தை  நான் மிகவும் ரசித்து படித்து கொண்டிருக்கிறேன். இன்னும் சிறிது நாளில் நான் கல்கியின் அணைத்து பதிப்புக்களையும் படித்து விட போகிறேன் . தமிழில் புத்தகம் படிப்பது மிகவும் அரிதாகி வருகிறது.

 நேற்று நான் காண்டீனில் மதிய உணவு சாப்பிட்டு கொண்டிருந்த பொழுது ஒரு பெண், டென் போயன்ட்டர், மிகவும் மிடுக்காக வந்து "ஓ  டூ யு ரீட் டாமில்?" என்று கேட்டாள். வந்த எரிச்சலை அடக்கி கொண்டு , "ஓ எஸ், இட் இஸ் எ பிடி தட் பீபில் டோன்ட்" என்று சொன்னேன். நம்ம நாட்டில் மட்டும் தான் தமிழ் தெரிவது அன் பாஷிநாபெல் ஆகி விட்டது. இதில் ஆச்சர்யம் என்னவென்றால் இந்த மக்களுக்கு ஆங்கிலமும் உருப்படியாக தெரியாது, ஹிந்தியும் தெரியாது. மொத்தத்தில் மொழிகளின் அழகை பார்க்காமலேயே கடைசி வரை காலம் தள்ளுகின்றனர். இதில் பெற்றோர்களின் பங்கு மிகவும் அதிகம். தங்கள் பிள்ளைகள்  தமிழ் தெரியாமல், எழுத்துக்கூட்டி படிப்பதை  மிகவும் பெருமையாக சொல்கின்றனர்.


ஒரு முறை டிவி-யில் வந்த  வினாடி வினா  போட்டியில்  ஒரு ஒன்பதாம் வகுப்பு படிக்கும் சிறுமி திருக்குறளை முடிக்க முடியாமல் ஒரு கம்ப்யூட்டர் பரிசை தட்ட விட்டார். அந்த பெண்ணின் தாயாரை விட என் அம்மா மிகவும் வருத்தப்பட்டார். என்னிடம் அந்த திருக்குறளை முடிக்கும் படி வினாவிய பொது தட்டு தடுமாறி "தொட்டனைதூரும்  தூறும் மணற்கேணி மாந்தர்க்கு கற்றனை தூறும் அறிவு" என்று சொன்னேன். மெதுவாக சொன்னதற்காக எனக்கு திட்டு விழுந்தது.  என் அம்மாவிடம்," அது எல்லாம்  இப்பொழுது யாருக்கும் தெரியாது" என்று சொன்னேன். அவள் அதை நம்பவே இல்லை. இரண்டு பெரும் ஜி-சாட்டில் வந்த மக்களிடம் இந்த குரலின்  ஆரம்பத்தை கொடுத்து முடிக்கச்சொன்னோம். அதில் இருபத்தி ஓரு பேரில் இரண்டு பேர்கள் மட்டும் முடித்தனர். என் அம்மாவிற்கு இது மிகவும் வியப்பாக இருந்தது. தற்பொழுது உள்ள முட்டாள்தனமான   போக்கை நினைத்து மிகவும் புலம்பினாள். ஏதோ அன்றைக்கு என் தலை தப்பித்து.

நேற்றைக்கு கூட, பொன்னியின் செல்வன் படித்து என் சகாக்களிடம் " "இளங்கோ" என்றல் லிட்ரலாக என்ன என்று தெரியுமா" என்று கேட்டேன். முழித்தார்கள் :) ! "கோ என்றால் கிங்..இளங்கோ இஸ் "எங் கிங்" "  என்று சொன்னவுடன் அவர்கள் யாரும் நம்பவில்லை. நல்ல தமிழ் பெயரை கேட்டால் மிகவும் சந்தோஷமாக இருக்கும். என்னுடைய ஓரு நண்பனின் பெயர் "இளமாறன்". நான் "ஓ, எவ்வளவு நல்ல பெயர்" என்று சொன்ன பொது, அவன் எனக்கு எதன் அர்த்தம் தெரியாது என்று சொன்னான். " இள-எங்  மாறன்-சன் " என்று சொன்னவுடன் , "யா ரைட், ஜஸ்ட் எ பில்லியன் இயர்ஸ் எங்" என்று பக்கத்தில் இருந்த இன்னுருவன் சொன்னான்  :-)
  
நான் இரண்டாம் மொழி ஹிந்தியும் , எட்டு ஆண்டுகள் சம்ஸ்க்ருதமும்  படித்தாலும் ,பாரதியார் கவிதை, வயிரமுதுவின் பாடல் வரிகள், ஆண்டாள் பாசுரம், சுஜாதா நாவல்கள், ஆனந்த விகடன், கோகுலம், மதனின் ஏன் எதற்கு எப்படி, சுஜாதாவின் ஸ்ரீரங்கத்து தேவதைகள், கற்றதும் பெற்றதும், துப்பறியும் சாம்பு , அமெரிக்காவில் கல்யாணம், கல்கி ... இவை அனைத்தும் என் வாழ்கையின் மிக முக்கியமான அங்கங்களாக இருந்தன. இவை யாதையும் காணமல் சேடன் பகத் படிப்பதால் மட்டுமே தான் பெரிய ஆங்கில வல்லுநர் என்று சொல்லிகொள்ளும் கும்பலை நினைத்தால் சிரிப்புத்தான் வருகிறது. இன்னும் சில வருடம் கழித்து குழந்தைகள் அனைவரும் பஸ் போர்டை படிப்பதற்காக மட்டும் தெரிந்து கொள்வார்கள். இவர் அனைவரும் பின்னால் பொறியியல் கல்லூரி வந்து கோனார் தமிழுரை போல் இருக்கும் புத்தகங்கள் மட்டுமே படித்து கடைசி வரையில் தமிழ் தெரியாததை பெருமையாக சொல்லிக்கொள்வார்கள். அடுத்த முறை அந்த பெண்ணை பார்க்கும் பொழுது மறக்காமல் "Complete: தொட்டனைதூரும் மணற்கேணி.. " என்று கேற்க போகிறேன் . என் அம்மாவிடம் சொல்வதற்கு நல்ல கதையாவுது  கிடைக்கும் . Sheesh!

The Agenda

 Disclaimer: Very big post..

I guess the ranting should be stopped and things really need to be done.

 There are around 18 clubs in CIT. I must say that about 10 are pretty active, each having its own fan following and culture. Literary, Space and Quiz are very active. So it is a common sight to see almost all the members of these three clubs come to the other two clubs as well. These clubs are great ways to pass good things on. They are fairly clean without any politics. The only person in these three club who might bite others heads off would be me, but I tend to be pretty harmless most of the times. Other fellows are very very decent, extremely talented and motivated. It is an interesting fact that most of us opted to sit out of zeroth day placements.

In the course of our numerous Bonda stall and over the canteen table discussions, we have analyzed and re-analyzed what is wrong with our college. This seems to be the only thing we whine about. As each of the brilliant ones come from one psyched out departments, it generally very soothing to listen to their problems, swathed in, what would sound as the luxury of ECE. We have talked about it so much that it was so difficult to contain the whole lot of us in the students union meeting :-). We were shushed only by the Bondas that were offered at the end of a pretty frenzied session. Tangents apart, we kind of have narrowed the major problems from the students’ side to be

 1) Lack of exposure

2) Hence, lack of appreciating good things

3) Nil reading

4) Hence, very poor writing skills

5) All this compounding to not reading good engineering texts and hence not being to appreciate good profs

6) Studying just for a job and hence studying only for marks which isn't much of a study

7) De-motivation by bad-bad profs.

8) Occasional Spurts of motivation down the drain as well by the general hostel syndrome

9) Hopelessly averted to certain subjects like yours truly

From the management side

Okay, let us assume that doing something about this aspect is beyond our control and hence I cease to waste time typing

 I think certain things can be done by the clubs on their own instead of sitting around and mopping about the sad state of affairs.

For one, the art of appreciation needs to be drastically improved. One of my friends pointed out to me sometime ago that it is hopeless to make people see beautiful things as beautiful. I think that is not so true. If one ends up talking so much about something, people might actually get interested to try out the experience at least once. If the beautiful thing is so beautiful, it will naturally be accepted. There has to be a person or a medium in which people should be exposed to good things. Accepted or not, is a different question. This experience will linger in one corner of their brain. Someday in their life, they might actually appreciate it. I take it from my own experience of having been dragged to music classes for around 10 years in my life. I hated every second of it, but now I am able to appreciate, to a certain extent classical music.

We once had a P.G.Wodehouse appreciation session in the Lit Club. This was after we realized that the lineage of Wodehouse readers ended with our batch and hence we wanted to do show people what to look for in a Wodehouse book. Not that we succeeded greatly, but people did give it a try before giving up after a few days.

Take the robotics session, or the 'contraptions' session that were on, in the space club. The joy of making the robot is definitely not the robot itself. It is the incredible experience of sitting around an unfolded news paper with a great deal of nuts, bolts, resisters, multimeter et al and soldering it. Even if one person in the group ends up doing the donkey work, the other people sit and talk of all the mundane engineering things. And when the guy who is working throws up his hand in despair, we would all get back on to the robot and try working the problem out. This is something like switching controls. One gives up, the other says "What is the big deal, let me give it a try now" . The other would gladly hand this chap the soldering iron and take the guy's place in the conversation of 'All things Engineering'.

So, by the time the robot gets done, people will have the reluctance to let go of the experience and crave for more challenging ones. This team work is a great motivation (which also explains why solo robotic teams generally never exist). After the robotic workshop was over, people from all the branches, competed left and right in robotic competitions around the city. So this is not just a good deed for the month. The club effectively made people like engineering, a task that was not done by the teachers.

What I propose to do with the first years and the second is to set up an intensive writing workshop. This doesn’t mean cornering them near the central staircase and dragging them in to the sessions. A better way would be to go to classes and scare them in to believing that they won’t get placed in MNC’s if they can’t ‘communicate’ well. This also goes by telling them how valuable writing would look on their resume. This year’s bunch is pretty enthusiastic and hence I believe only a wee bit of nudging is needed. So the creative writing workshop spans over four weeks, where we plan a day every week. We rope in the junta, give them proper id card or validation to give an authentic feel and expose them to good writing. We pick up hilarious blog posts, have animated reading sessions (Boy, all this generally happens in pre-school, but trust me it works in college as well). So initial sessions will focus on how great, writing and reading can take a person. We tell those stories of our glorious seniors: IIM success stories, MNCs, Amrika and all that goodness. We make them write, give them gold stars, winning points and all that back to school, feel good methods. Then we put them on to a bit of reporting, class incidents and things. We show them serious writing and the rest of the genre. In the process, I plan to buy Enid Blytons , Indian authors and circulate them.Blyton first, Wodehouse next. One step at a time you see. We are dealing with kids who come from remote places. We can't force them to understand the subtle British peerage jokes or even butlers just like that!

The rest of the two months would go in to taking the Junta for the culturals all around. Sarang for a starter is a great way to scare people off to do something about themselves. Am going to screen great TED talks with subtitles as much as I can. This is in my hypothesis that people generally like watching screened shows, rather than actively participate in a debate or a JAM. It will be really really great if these kids start building their own opinions, which is what that matters in the long run of things. They really need to get away from the stupid books and look at things that don’t carry marks.

As far the other clubs, I heard people are planning to distribute as much of the MIT-Open courseware video lectures, NPTEL video lectures from IISc and IITs and Stanford Engineering everywhere program. We have a huge collection of almost all the subjects after days of maniacal downloading in the systems labs. I for instance, have complete Stanford’s Fourier Transforms and applications (With solved assignments, term papers), MIT’s electronics and circuits, NPTEL DSP, MIT- algorithm development, MIT- Introduction to psychology. I will be done with the whole of brain and cognitive sciences in a while. So we are planning to put them all in DVD’s or hard drives and spread the joy of good teaching! In this process we hope folks discover the beauty of sarcasm and witty lectures way before we did.

 We are also plan to slander Bakshi, Salivahanan and co in the meets as much as possible.Even Bakshi seems to be pardonable, but I wonder how people read Salivahanan, a tasteless soporofic "Konar Tamilurai". Again, getting the message across would be to tell them that they wont get a super-10 lakhs p.a job if they learn crappy books. Knowing them, this should work. Money, is a big motivation.

We have come up with the idea of uncensored online newsletter and the censored paper ones. Though it is extra work for us, should be enormous fun  :-P . The deadline for the newsletter is blaring as well as the work on the magazine, which we have not started. Ah, well, I will run around all semester doing things. The niceness of the tasks and the satisfaction of finally getting the A.O to sign something compensates for all the unpleasantness around, I should say!

(Too long to edit and nitpick for typos and grammatical errors. Consider this one more of those impulsive posts )

An 'Engineered' wrath

Three and a half years of attending classes in this college and pushing myself day after day for that sacred 75% attendance has been one heck of a character building exercise. All the pointless communication I managed to mug to pass the exams lingers like this wisp of Agarbatti in a hidden corner of my brain. After 7 semesters I can now strike out, with enormous confidence the 'Communication' part in the title of my Bachelors.

What strikes me so awfully is that this place has not only de-engineered me so much, but has managed to permanently put out this occasional high I used to get out of making my codes work. Teachers after teachers whom I respected and loved, retired faster than I passed through semesters. Gone were the days of brilliant classes where the professors were good enough with their stuff to afford being witty in class.

All this comes up with tremendous sadness after watching this video lecture on Fourier Transforms and applications. As the Standford prof rolls out more and more brilliant things, all I can think of is the sickeningly green coloured Ramesh Babu book, where Fourier Transform was for people who were good with integration . I am just awestruck with how much we are being denied in engineering by this stupid educational system which has turned a job at a software company the sole aim of learning.

We drag ourselves to finish the lecture somehow, pass the semester somehow, finish the labs somehow- all the 'somehows' growing exponentially by the day, letting the system and letting ourselves to rush through the giant farce called engineering. Why is that we churn out so much of mediocrity and worse, hire it back in colleges to destroy hundreds of other engineers.

Every parent wants his/her children to go to the famed American land with roads paved in gold. Thanks to software,a majority of upper middle class in South India, and almost all of the Tam Brahms have lived in Amrika at some point in their life. Is this not enough to make our parents freak out? All that tons Hershey chocolates and the Dove soaps hoarded back, comes with the story of how great my son/daughter is, because he earns in dollars. and fear not, you kid can be too, if you push him a wee bit more.

We all have been through that terrible-terrible ordeal of getting in to a 'premier institute in South India', like our SoPs scream after three and a half years. We have been rubbished, tormented and in a lot of cases brainwashed enough not to appreciate good stuff anymore.It was in one of those, how fucked-up-we- are- all- by- the- system conversations, a friend of mine brought upon the fact that how many Indians shine in this subject called computer architecture in the US universities. He then made a quick calculation and found that his screwed up computer arch prof had actually made 3000 odd people loathe the subject in his career because of him being an absolute moron. Even if there had been some 50 people who had really liked the subject, despite the prof, he made them give up on it by resorting to the age old, if you- dont- kiss- my- ass, thou shalt- get- a -D grade technique.

It has become so easy to become an engineer. B.E is so cliched that a commerce student or a literature student would warrant a 'wow' from me for having the guts to stand up against his/her parent who would have willingly spent lakhs to put him in to an engineering college. It is a vicious circle, isn't it? You somehow have to go to the US or crack CAT or at least do a PhD for they have invested so much on you.We are not the ones who have 'peer pressure' concept to get insane. Oh yes, there is a lot of scope to 'research' in these colleges where out parents put us to fulfill their duty.Does it matter to them that people here shamelessly bribe each other for a pathetic doctorate. 

Let us face it, bad teachers are too big a memory to move on and develop a love for the subject. They stand over you, haunt you with their monotony, sadism and worse, their fucked up 'notes' and 'teaching'.They may tut-tut with you and sympathise with you for not getting a job in a software company.They were trained for software themselves and that is what they couldn't get even when the company had recruited by lakhs.They simply don't know or want to know that there is a better book called Resnick and Halliday to learn physics from. They can't acknowledge that by knowing physics, even people like them would have become good engineers.

My parents always tell me 'It is your decision' but it  wouldn't stop them from secretly fantasising about an onsite project I would end up on, or the day I would give my GRE. It would be their turn then to distribute the chocolates, shampoos and deodorants like the rest of the clan. No one really cares about learning anymore, do they?

For this one reason, I really admire those few of us, who had hung on, despite being terribly crushed by the system that valued CGPA's more than their problem solving skills. My rock stars, as they say in the Intel ad, are not be those who make those path breaking devices. Mine are those who survived the mediocrity and without any prejudice, love engineering for the sheer beauty of it.

I pray not to live on the day to see my lab assistant turned senior lecturer become the HOD of my department. I live in the hope of getting away with my remaining sanity intact. Glad that I at least know enough to know that there are so many fascinating things I don't know. This, I consider as my biggest achievement in my tryst with engineering. 

One cold night...

It was a really cold Coimbatore night. People were huddled in to bunches in the deserted corridors of the IT block. Some were leaning against the wall in half stupor. The girls were exchanging their interview experiences for the hundredth time. There were snatches of conversation about Avtar and how the 3-D glasses were not quite good in 'Kanagadhara'. Some laid their heads on the arm rests of the chairs outside the classrooms seeking solace in the music wafting from their mobile phones. There were worried

speculations, constant "Oh,I screwed up" whines in all the corners.

The entire lot turned very worried by 7 pm by the apparent delay of results. Their friends started popping in from the hostel to be in the thick of things.Then it started raining. One of the famous drizzles of Coimbatore, which have a tendency to kick up some nice petrichor and horribly cold winds.People started shivering and started huddling against each other in the corridors.

The corridors were dimly lit and it gave this surreal feeling of train compartments at night. The ones standing inside tut-tutted at the ones braving the cold and standing out in the open.7pm became 9 pm. The entire crowd was getting hungrier and irritable by minute. The guys had tucked out their 'interview' shirts and had untied their ties which was hanging limply from their shoulders now. All the prim, prompt smart interview look had gone. It had been replaced by the dishevelling expectation plastering their faces.Some of them cursed that the HRs might be hogging in at Jenny leaving them in the cold. 9 pm became 10.

My head was pounding mercilessly. The previous week's insomnia was striking back with retribution. Things started looking all fuzzy and I assumed that some circuit in my head was malfunctioning. It was maddening to stand pointlessly even after knowing the results.Half asleep, I drifted from one huddled group to another talking drunkenly and more incoherently than usual .

Then, the results were out. The crowd came on to the quadrangle and the HRs stood from the first floor announcing the results. There were joyous shouts as each name was announced. People erupted in to whistles and loud hoots at each name. People hugged each other in joy, beamed as they climbed the steps, briskly all their tiredness gone. Some people broke their friends' backs as they frantically tried to get away.

There was joy. It is sometimes extremely gratifying, to see people feeling so happy however cynical one may be. It felt so good to see a person, a very deserving one at that, whooping and looking upwards to heaven just for a second and scrambling on to get his letter.What sounds so ordinary to some people might bring extra-ordinary changes in others lives. It is all a matter of perception about what is really a biggie and what is not. For a lot of people in my college who come from very humble means, getting a job means making a change in their family's lifestyle.This day is what they would have constantly imagined as they trudged through Salivahanan,Bakshi and oodles and oodles of other crap.

For a lot of people it is their nightmares getting over and for the others it is hope. And in their hope, there is such infectious happiness that my cynicism dissolved. As I walked up the stairs, I shushed my throbbing head for a minute, closed my eyes and let the cold air strike me. Santa had arrived. :-)

Prediction for Sunday

I will wake up tomorrow with the following symptoms- Throbbing head ache, extreme irritability, massive mood swings and venting out spite like a Hungarian horn tail. I would snap at my friends, gut half of them and feel viciously wronged by the world. Later in the evening I would swallow my tiredness, drag myself out of bed and go to the first meal of my day. After the food goes down, I would probably be whistling cheerily and walk along the lovely Avinashi road.I would see the sun set in to a huge ball of fire from the Hopes Bridge, despite the incredible din of the traffic. (Yes, am a sucker for sunsets; the orange gets me). I would come back to hostel, cheerily, and start reading The Hindu. So this would remind me of the fact that I am broke and have no money whatsoever to buy any books online. I would saunter out only to see my fellow college mates religiously mugging for IBM campus on Monday.

This would make me madder, because of my lack of interest and at my deep concern about something called future.I would go back inside and immerse myself in to House.M.D (Brilliant Show, I tell you.) Half way through I would feel bad about chucking medicine, for I seemed to have accomplished oh-so-muc(s)h in Engineering. I would start writing by midnight, give up, save it and go back to House M.D. I would get insane by three and start writing a post like this. I can feel the irritability creeping in.

Sigh,madness. Working days are madder I tell you. I am skipping food like that is nobody's business and have been living on one meal a day. I have been up till 5 am, every day since last Sunday. And to think that I am not even in IIM to justify that! Reason tells me that I am wrecking my delicate metabolic pathways and I might end up with a dozen ailments by over-working my over heated brain.The Socratic question is which would be the first to get me. My dear old peptic ulcer? Or some kind of sleep wrecked permanent brain damage?

I need to take control. This hedonism isn't doing good.Tennis anyone?

A world without Hobbes?

We all know Calvin is God. There can't be a better work of fiction than Calvin. The beauty of this comics lie in the way it takes every tiny bit of our life and comments on it from the view of an extremely smart, wise-ass six year old. Calvin is always right, is immortal and makes people swear by him.

But, do we all like Hobbes as much as we love Calvin? We have seen Calvin pictures, Calvin quotes,Calvin is bound to appear alone in a lot of fan pictures, I don't think Hobbes does that. We simply can't think Hobbes without Calvin.I guess it is the price of being the sidekick.

Hobbes, is the alter ego; the wise one; the rational one that warns Calvin of the consequences, but never stops him from doing those things. It is not surprising that we tend to overlook the importance of Hobbes, because he is like the rest of us; he is not Calvin. But, there cannot be a person (or tiger) more special than Hobbes. He is not like the rest of us, simply because he means a world to Calvin. The best part is that Calvin often doesn't realize what Hobbes means to him, as much as we do. And then, there is Hobbes to goof up, to be the homicidal psycho jungle cat and to make up tiger verses. This gives the opportunity to Calvin to play the grown one and comment on how tigers are stupid. If it were not for Hobbes' patience to point out the obvious to Calvin, we would not have had strips like this. We would not have Calvin if there isn't a tiger to pounce on him every time he comes back from school.

Hobbes is similar to Calvin, as both of them do not know the world, and what lies ahead of them. Calvin is our restless spirit, craving for recognition, impulsively wanting attention and talking the mind out. Calvin is all our unsatisfied dreams, our pursuit of happiness. But, Hobbes, is reality. Hobbes is synthesized happiness and cosmic contentment. Among the duo, it is Hobbes who actually knows what it would take Calvin to get what he wants, and yet he wouldn't say it out to Calvin, for he knows the present is good enough for Calvin, however awfully he cribs about it.

Hobbes can comfort Calvin with just the right things to say. He is Calvin's punching bag. Calvin knows intuitively that Hobbes is the strongest of the two. But Hobbes prefers to lie low and let Calvin take up the limelight, for he seeks contentment near the fireplace. He lets Calvin to discover the joy of goofing up, which is very important, in this world full of over cautious paranoid people. He does offer to do Calvin's homework and takes his baths when Calvin whines way too much. Hobbes points the way, Calvin choses not to take it. Hobbes looks at the right path, sighs and runs behind Calvin, the opposite way.

Life cannot exist for Calvin without Hobbes. An emotionally unstable, deranged, insecure yet over confident single child always tries to hurt itself. There needs to be a Hobbes on whom Calvin can take it out, be rude at, snap and advise pretending to know it all. Else Calvin will perish; succumb to mortality and ordinariness. He would end up knowing the proper definition of the pronoun.

Had the choice been given to the duo, whether to have it Calvin and Hobbes or the other way around, Hobbes would have never wanted to flip a coin like Hannah&Barbara did. It will always be Calvin and Hobbes, because Hobbes would want to give Calvin the simple joy of taking the spotlight, for Hobbes' idea of happiness is just a field full of sunlight. We simply don't know what it takes to be the faithful accomplice!

It is not a magical world, Hobbes, ol' buddy, but let us still go exploring!

P.S: This is to a friend of mine, who pulled up a hysterically sobbing yours truly from one of the worst attacks of depression, by telling me all the things I wanted to hear and letting me to be incredibly rude in return.

P.P.S : I know the punctuation and grammar is all messed up, but it is 2.30 am and I wanted to get this out of my system.