Next Week's Session

19th January 2014

"So", I asked.

"So what?", he replied. I was quite surprised that he spoke finally.

"Well I am paid by the hour, and for the last three sessions all you have done is stare at the paper weight on my table. You can benefit if you talk. There must be something troubling you for sure."

"What makes you think I am troubled?".

He had a strange confidence in his voice. He seemed in control. He seemed almost impervious, showed no signs of any interest and clearly did not want to talk. He had been quite, in an uneasy way  for the last three sessions. Although we never had a conversation, not even a word, I always ended up having a severe headache after he left. His presence was not easy to handle somehow.

"Well your school teachers tell me you are unusually quite in the classrooms. But your grades are all excellent. Do you like school?"

"There isn't much to like there. Its all elementary", He replied blankly. He seemed responsive today. Two sentences in a minute from him I was told is quite an achievement.

"So you are one of the smarter kinds then eh? Acing all your exams effortlessly"

He smiled, not an amused smile but one where it makes you feel you have just made a fool out of yourselves.

"No I am one of my kind", he replied.

"So you think you are special? That's exciting. So what makes you think you are one of the kind"

"I just know it. Your benighted state is my testimony.", He shot back. I thought may be I could tell him one of my own childhood stories.

"Well you know when I was seven, my father used to tell me that it is never a good...."

"Nobody gives a fuck what your father said to you. Nobody. Not even your mom when she ran away from him when you were just three years old. And frankly you just say it because some rotten psychology book tells you to relate your childhood with mine."

"What? No. Where the hell did you learn all this from?"

"Just be happy that I am not mad today. I could just hit you with this paper weight till your brain splashes out of that skull of yours and then I could just stick my fingers into it and feel its texture. It is an amazing feeling you know."

"So.. you have done it before? What does it all mean?"

"How else do you think I was inducted into the foster care? All that nagging and whining. I just couldn't stand her anymore. One day on the way back from school, I took a boulder and split her head open."

"So you are telling me you killed your mom two years back?"

He went silent. His eyes shining almost captivating. His forehead sweating. He was a scary thing to look at now. He definitely blamed himself for his mother's death from the accident we all know of. He has cooked up this unusual story, may be to satisfy himself. But such hatred for his own mother, it was hard to imagine. He didn't speak anything that day. I hoped next week's session might go better.

26 January 2014

"So", I asked.

"So what?", he replied. I was quite surprised that he spoke finally.

"Well I am paid by the hour, and for the last four sessions all you have done is stare at the paper weight on my table. You can benefit if you talk. There must be something troubling you for sure."

He bent over and reached for the paper weight. The next I know.......................

Those Colors !

"Ma.... I drew I drew", he ran to his mother chanting loudly.

He was five years of age. Art and painting were never his cup of tea. He hated it. He could not draw circles, at least they never looked like one. Drawing was the last thing he would ever do to pass time but today it was different. He liked hitting streets and wandering on roads but since it was a scorching summer afternoon that was ruled out. He had not made new friends to whom he could go, so he stayed home and drew.

His mom stared at the picture he had drawn. It was typical primary school material. Sharp angular lines made the mountains. A small ellipse in between which could be assumed to be the sun. Many big trees with large irregular leaves. A standard house with a door and two small windows. A few birds scattered and uniformly distributed.

It was an okay effort. The sun was colored bright yellow. Leaves were large and looked fine but something was wrong. She looked back at his smiling face in disbelief. She grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. She showed him the large banyan tree near by. She asked many times if he could find a basic difference. The difference was obvious, far too obvious to remain unnoticed. But he smiled and said I see it the way I have drawn it. She saw the picture back. The trees were different, there was a striking contrast. She could not understand what was the matter. All leaves were painted brown and the tree trunk was painted green.

So that was how I discovered nineteen years back that I was a colorblind. I never felt bad being one in-fact I liked it. Its kind of cool you know.

"You got to be kidding me right.....Ohk tell me what color is that car over there and that house and this shirt." These are the typical responses I get when I happen to disclose my so called disability to anyone. Most people do not understand what color blindness is all about. And so I write this post which probably might help you all understand what exactly is colorblindness.

To put into perspective, how would you feel if someone told you that there are sounds that natural human ear cannot listen to and probably cannot differentiate between.Its something similar. Colorblinds cant differentiate between few colors. Now this does not bother us for sure. We just cant imagine the existence of those colors just the way you don't care about those ultrasound frequencies. Actually when I think about it now, its one less thing to worry about while choosing your shirts and stuff.

Some Science Stuff  (Skip if uninterested)

So basically your eye has a screen (Retina) where the eye lens creates images of what you are looking at. Now to read these images, there are cone cells and rod cells. The Rod cells tell the brain about the intensity of the image (For science enthusiasts the number of photons coming in) and the Cone cells tell the brain about the color of the image (Again for science lovers the wavelength of the photons coming in).

Now let's talk about these cone cells more. There are three basic types Red, Green and Blue. As you guessed it you are a colorblind if one of these is not doing their job properly.

So there are 3 broad categories -
Monochromacy - You got just a single type of cone. Basically everything is black and white to you.
Dichromacy - Two types of cone cells exits and hence you cannot identify one of the three spectrum
Anamolous Trichromacy - All three types exist but one of the cones isn't working properly.

Some perspective on how we see the world

PS: Apologies for the slightly longish post on a topic which is pretty obscure.

Random Access–Version 1.0

The title will not seem a-tad-bit intriguing to anyone human who has been through the new SRK movie experience which at best can be described as an insane torture. RA-ONE has proven to be nothing more than a disastrous overambitious SRK Action Hero project.

The story, it seems is written by a 10 year old retard and the director Anubhav Sinha, deserves a spot in shoot at sight police list. The movie starts off with a poorly depicted action game sequence where Sanjay Dutt and Priyanka Chopra pull off very mediocre cameos. A small comic respite - iski lee, uski lee and sabki lee.

The movie continues to disappoint further as SRK tries to unconvincingly play a south Indian Geek and later a Super Hero Robot. Karina manages to look fabulous throughout the movie but thanks to poor direction and story line, there was nothing she could do to help the cause. The plot uses the banal out-of-control-Artificial-Intelligence to transfer RA-ONE & G-ONE to reality which is pretty substandard given the amount of money this movie has costed for special effects.

Once our Hardy boys are out in real, there is nothing unexpected you can think off. Scenes are over-stretched and the special effects are very ordinary. Fight sequences can keep you engaged but there was nothing outstanding that can be highlighted.

Second half features to be slightly better than the first one. Few PJs scattered across do bring out a smile and make the movie a tad bit bearable. Not to mention the Karwa Chauth, which is now almost a ritual in any SRK movie.

Although Vishal-Shekhar combo is generally good, but neither the Standy-by-me remix nor chammak challo can be classified as above average. Background track and music effects are not apropos and do not bring the feel of grandiose that an action packed-super-hero movie must bring.

The jokes are crude and tawdry, especially the "condom-condom" and "you-must-not-touch-my-breast" are not exactly the ones I was expecting in a children-family targeted movie. Satish Shah does a decent job in the small footage that he has been given but his role is pretty much forgettable.The movie does have its own set of high points. Rajnikant's cameo at bombay airport fight is very nicely pictured and so is the scene where RA-ONE chases Soniya and Prateek.

Overall one of the worst movies SRK has acted/produced (yeah !! even if you compare it to Madhuri-SRK 1997 movie "Koyla"). Do remember to book your cabs in advance if you are watching the late night show at Belandur Bangalore Central, you just might need to walk back home. Autorickshaws that are either almost never present or too difficult to bargain with are surely not going to help you cheer up after RA-ONE

PS: Neeraj you goddaam bastard, I will make you watch the 2002 epic Jaani Dushman, next time you take us to an SRK movie. Sikka will agree here I guess.

the Parameter & Recursion

Some brilliant mathematician once tried breaking down problems, problems into simpler fragments. Fragments that closely resembled the original problem yet were different. They were intutively easier and smaller yet pragmatically it didnt solve the purpose unless this was repeated till eternity. In the process a concept more popularly called as "recursion" evolved.

Contemporary to this mathematician was a philosopher, famous for his views on success and happiness. He tried putting his own problem into variables and equations. As it is said that an analytical mind eventually turns philosophical and vice-versa. So it was here that we saw two mighty schools of unrelated thoughts merging. An "Attempt" to view this problem analytically. An "attempt" to model this happiness-success cumbursome equation with sets of variables and algorithm.

Logically the first question one might ask is the validity of defining emotions by variables. Quantifying the unquantifyable. Let's assume this as an axiom for now.

The model seems apprently trivial and absolutely error free when philosophy uses mathamatics. It is yet another recursive function with yet another regular variable called desire and confidence. Just as a recursive function needs a special condition to get out of the "Loop" so does a human to get out of the vicious loop of distress and failure or never ending pursuit of happiness.

To put it more objectively, a failure causes distress which depending upon parameter (confidence and desire) leads to another failure. Failure causes the parameters to change, generally it devastates the confidence and desire. on the other hand, a success causes happiness which comes back to it recursively developing the parameter causing yet another variable to proliferate called arrogance.

As it would be evident to any logical entity this model is explosive and unstable to the core. The only way to keep it stable is to abate the desire and confidence on a succes and boost the same on a failure (a fact generally unheard).

Where does this lead us to ? Confusion.

Perhaps not!

Probably we just solved the equation. We just proved that succes must accompany modesty and failure with an ardous zeal to strike back. This probably is the only way to keep the system stable and kicking !!

An idea worth giving a thought at least!!

She held the paper in her hand and read it out loud to the whole class. She finished with a click and kicked her heals. She was expecting some remarks some solid ones. She knew she had done a great job.



He was the new teacher of the subject called logic and reason. He gave away the first assignment. It was strange. It was an essay to be written on any topic. A black eyed girl sat on the first bench. She was far too intrigued by his way of teaching and could not get the need of the assignment. She some how felt the course wasn't getting its perfect treatment and the professor was making it all haywire. She went down to him and complained about how she felt about it. She openly made it known to him how she thought it was all a waste. How he was wasting the class hours and how it all just didn't fit in the institution.

"What's the topic you have chosen ?", he asked. The afternoon sun lit his face brightly.

"I do not know", she hissed.

"You need some help with that ?", he asked again casually smiling.

"Hell no!!"

She looked confused and went away only to call him back some time in the night all in tears.

"I couldn't think of any thing to write. I just couldn't. I am the best student in the class and have always been the first to complete the assignment. Somehow its all confusing. All this doesn't make any sense. What kind of assignment is it any way"

"Well I m surprised you say that"

"I couldn't think of any thing to write. I need a topic desperately."

"You need some help with that ?"

"Hell YES! What else would I call for............ "

"Tell me something what is the last thought you had in your mind which you think is significant?"

"Well it was about your stupid lecture and how it was all a waste and it just didn't fit the institution called college"

"So why not"

"Because it isn't like the ones we have had all these years."

"So ?"

"Well it doesn't work that way. Let me tell you...."

"Why don't you tell it to the whole class as your essay on Monday. I think you have stopped crying."

Click .... beep beep beep




"Roll number fifty four get ready to read you essay." Secretly he had been waiting to hear to what she has to say for the whole weekend. Somehow he had a feeling he knew what she would write. Things were reciprocating.

She looked at him with deep respect and pulled out a paper from her Grey top.

The topic of her essay was "Abolition of Institution"

When she was done she thought she had enlightened the whole class. She argued that imitation was the real evil and ensured that the real teaching could never begin at institutions. It felt like an external compulsion. Little children didn't have it. It came later on possibly "the school" was the cause.
Yes they were the reason. They taught you to imitate. If you didn't you got a bad grade. In college it was sophisticated imitation. You were supposed to imitate in such a way so as to convince the teacher that you haven't imitated. That way you scored your A. Originality might give you anything from A to F.

The class remained silent. They didn't have that edge of three day long thought process over the issue and hence were in the same initial state that she was in. No one liked what she said. Perhaps no one understood what she said and you never like things you don't understand its perfectly natural. No one seemed to be interested and it all hurt her. Somehow again she was lost. How could they not see what was so obvious.

But this didn't slow her down. Her voice caught an odd old-time religious flavor. A pleading tone. She begged others to listen, to understand this was really right.

"I am not saying this for him", she glanced at him and then looked back at the class.

"Its for YOU."







-------------------------------------------------------------------------
With apologies to Robert M Pirsig

"Is that the door bell ringing", she questions.

Yes surprise!! its him. Its seems like years since they have had a glance at each other.

He comes up with that perfect excuse and she is graceful as always. He would take her on a drive as they always did. No one spoke there was no need.

He parked in the backyard of her house this time somehow walking through that front door was a sin. A sin that would turn the two of them into stone statues. He kicks off his velvet neck tie which is caught by the arms of that old skeleton tree. She removes her uptight sandles.

And they danced in the moonlight. Barefooted they danced to the music of silence, the grass caressing their toes and still not a word. Finally they fall down laughing and crying the same time. Still no words and now the only sound is the crickets chirping. They both knew what the silence meant. She smiled and he turned away.

Far away in the distance stars wobbled and wept with that strange and unaccustomed joy.

"How was the tea?", she asks.

"Fine as always", he shoots back.

There was no tea. The moon hid behind his blanket of clouds. Rain begins to pour softly and steadily. No one notices. His best tie will surely be ruined. Her sandles they are already lost.

That night, of course, there was an earthquake, not of the kind the Richter scale could measure not of the kind anyone but the stars could see.

The Screw that was stuck

apologies to Henry James

Part 1

Life had been pretty prototype for last few months and it seemed nothing was more than ordinary. The screw was stuck. You eventually realize its the twist that is important & no damm amount of push or a pull can turn the course.

Its gonna be Saturday in few moments and it all began last Saturday.

Saturday:
The show day. Everything was fine

Saturday Night:
The night I had been looking forward to got so screwed ..... well that now seems like a million years ago but yeah sad night .....

Sunday/Monday
A phone call and everything goes upside down. Fear ... and that's all i remember
You suddenly feel utterly helpless and you hate it when you have got nothing to do about it.
The sudden urge to just get to that place.... even if it was a thousand kilometers away.... just to steal one glance...... You realize it wont be sane to go all alone you pack your bags and get ready

Someone tells you.... you gotta wait.... wait for a day that's all.... you listen and sustain the turnmoil

Open house and bla bla bla its like who cares ......
loud cries all around and its almost a cry from your mouth as well....

You have a rough day ahead ......
campus on rocks thats all i remember

Sunday night:
You chill out.... The screws keep working and they screw up big time this time

Monday:
no classes you just run around the whole day
Nukad attempt bla bla and fast forward

Tuesday morning 5 AM:
Ideological clashes
and yeah rough ones
yeah but when its friendship for so long it really isnt important

Totally SCREWED!!

And then began "The Journey" a journey that turned the screw.....