San(')s Sanity

Chennai was blessed with copious rainfall for the last 2 days thanks to a cyclonic depression, which by the way according to the remarkable meteorologists here, was supposed to cross the coast today. Needless to say, the sun has seen shining as bright as , umm, a sun on a summer day. But the intoxicating rain coupled with the rather inane curfew on the institute LAN between 1 and 4 am has made us part of society's new avant-garde intelligentsia. Umm, yeah. Atleast out of me... I am often asked as to why I don't wish to carry on with further studies abroad. Why don't I aspire to land up in some prestigious University like a MIT or a Stan to do a Masters or a PhD. Why is it I would rather stay back in India and do a MBA or take up a job. But I am confused. For to me, the question is but the opposite. The intricacies in the size of the address lines of a D-RAM memory unit of the 1 GB Main Memory or the supposed joy of discovering obscure fathomless results in the Approximate C

After a rather tiring, uninsipring and uninformative, so basically useless, trip to Loyola to attend a seminar after the mock CAT, I first had to put up with a imbecilic call taxi driver who was probably driving for the very first time in Chennai . Nearly a hour after we started, I reached the hostel, all worn out and frutrated (both from the original mock CAT and the somnolent lecture). Straight for the mess for lunch. I left the question paper and the answer key outside the mess, having not evaluated my performance as yet. When I returned, they were gone!!! Who the fuck will want to steal a question paper? Which idiot would do it rather than just asking someone who wrote the paper? Lunacy... But then I decided to calm myself. And analyse the situation. Find the culprit. Whodunnit? My crazy imagination, some added creativity, no commonsense and the kitchen sink later, these were the cases I came up with. Somehow I don't think any of them fit the bill... The action movie scenario:

Thats just a random quote by Homer Simpson. Nothing great but the fact is its random. There is a rather obscure movie called Pi. The theme of the movie goes something like the world is made up of patterns. Patterns in everything. And the protogonist goes on to undercover a supposed pattern in the number pi and hence cracks some universal code which allows him to predict the future. Well, the movie sucked. Atleast between the parts I crashed what I saw was neither interesting nor thought-provoking. However, its the theme that made me think. Basically what it meant was that everything is predetermined and happens deterministically. That is to say, no randomness. Think about a world with no randomness. That is, the supposed world according to the astrologers and fortune-tellers. Everything is already decided. Its just waiting for time to catch up to happen. Which is soo wierd. This means we have Absolutely no control over what is going to happen. No control over when you're going to w

I never thought I would say this but it has indeed happened. I, who have shunned Shaastra and everything associated with the supposed grand techfest, am coming to miss this blessed event for as of today I shall never get to savour another Shaastra as a IITian student. ( *Fingers crossed * :P) In my mind, Shaastra was always associated with some things. The first thing that I think about when someone says Shaastra is a group of 20 year olds wearing old dirty tshirts and even dirtier jeans having a heated discussion about the use of transisters and op-amps while constructing a robot which can self-manouerve itself through some obstacle course. And since we're dealing with IITians maybe even a humanoid robot capable of ummm...things. I'm not refuting the validity of the statement as of yet, but initially that was all I could think of. Another thing I correlate with Shaastra is RKK. Don't ask, won't tell. (Don't know!?!) Slowly as the years progressed, (umm there were b

One of the earliest definitions I remember of love was " It is something with two vowels, two consonants and two fools". I know of one. Me. Lately I have been thinking of her a lot. Her face, her eyes, her cute smile. The way her hair felt. Her voice. The way she pronounced my name. The way she had to be the person to say the last word. The way she sometimes wrote such predicatable responses to your sms which strangely warmed your heart. Her enviable knowledge of the Zodiac signs. Her ability to remember everyone's birthdays. The way she loved animals but at the same time was afraid of cats and dogs. Her love of Priety Zinta and dislike of Salman Khan. The way she said she absolutely loved every present I ever gave her. The way sometimes she lied so that I felt happy. The way she said Hello. The way she said Good Bye. Her. She. I just lay on my bed thinking. Wishing and hoping that what was could be what is. Hours together with no care for time. I just lay on my bed, th