I miss a target and think i didnt work hard enough
I achieve a target and think maybe it wasn't high enough
Self- satisfaction is so difficilt to come by.

If a classic is "a book that never finishes saying what it has to say", the book on compliers by Aho, Ullman and Sethi is definitely a classic.

Or maybe, i have the memory of a goldfish :((

Sometimes i wonder .....
how it would be
to be at the receiving end of me.

Haven't written anything in ages, but a recent traumatic experience has shaken me enough to take up the pen again. I had to to the bank. Yes, that's it. That's the traumatic experience. And no, the source of the trauma was not the fact that my account had dried up like the wells of my home state do in summer. Any visit to any bank for any reason puts me in a state of extreme nervous tension- comparable to what i feel when I'm appearing for an interview or an oral. I behave like a moron once I'm in one of those places. And invariably get shouted at. The shouting acts as fodder for my next visit's tension. This particular visit was made with the intention of getting a demand draft

I enter the Bank, and it is filled with busy people. In a bank, busy is synonymous with rude. Avoiding them, i look around for a friendly face. The only not-so-busy person i spot is a rifle carrying guard. Summoning all my courage, i go and ask him where should i go if i want to get a demand draft. In a kinder voice than i'd expected, he guides me to the counter and also tells me to ask how much commission i'd have to pay for the draft. A shouting later, i have the form and commission amount. I fill up as much of the form i can understand (yes, it is in english) and am back to the counter man. I dont know where in the form to put the commission amount. Before i can open my mouth to ask him, he grabs the form from my hand. One look at it, and he shouts - "Madam, u've not written anything here, not even the amount". And i manage to splutter - "I wanted to ask what to write". He looks at me as though i'm speaking in some African language. "What to write? What to write ?" - he's stuck that that sentence, not wanting to believe that someone can ask that. I clarify - "Yes, where to put the commission amount". And while he's barking an answer at me, another bark joins in. Several barks later, I'm the proud owner of two forms - one for the draft and the other for the commission. After going through both the forms, i go back to the counter man to submit the forms, but by now, there a line of people waiting to get shouted at. I'm almost at the head of the queue when i realize that nowhere have i mentioned the name of the person to whom the draft is to be made. Sprint out of the queue before the counter man can bark again. After a lot of deep and profound thinking, i realize that probably the Payee column should be the place to put that name. I scratch out Vinaya from there, and put the right name. I'm back at the end of the line, but the rifle man, who'd seen me sprint tells me to go directly to the head of the line. Blessing him, and asking Him to join me in this noble cause, I'm back to the counter man. This time surprisingly, he has nothing to bark about. He writes something on both the forms and hands them over to me. Feeling like i have the key to a priceless treasure in my hand, i look around for the rifle man to ask for directions. By this time, he's convinced that i am an African aadivasi on her maiden visit to the civilized world. He points me to where the cashier and the teller sit and says, go give the forms to him. I promptly head for the cahier's counter. A finger tells me I'm at the wrong place. I submit the forms and the amount at the teller's counter and that guy tells me - collect the draft from there after 10 minutes, pointing vaguely in the direction where all the employs of the bank except him are sitting. To terrified to ask where exactly there is, i nod and come out. 10 minutes later (which i spend trying to get my heart to go slow), I'm back to the rifle man. He tells me "you-see that-RED-shirted-man-there, go-ask-him -if your-draft-has-arrived", pronouncing each word very slowly, not sure whether the African aadivasi even understands the language he's speaking. Gratefully nodding my head, i go and ask the red man. He says he hasn't got the draft yet. I sit down to an infinite wait. Some time later, that man says, "Go collect it form that man there', telling me even how to get there. Grateful, i walk up to that man. He looks up and says "Yes mam, how can i help you? ". Not expecting such courtesy, i manage to splutter - "Draft". He says, "Oh yes. Please sign here". I obey. I'm sure any self respecting handwriting analyst would place the age of the hand that made that sign at not less than 75. Collecting that damned draft, i walk out of the dreaded place. Coming out, i look around to see if i can see the rifle man to thank him, but i see him busy helping a fellow tribesman. Shooting him a grateful look, i get out of the place with something looking suspiciously similar to a cheque. Only, instead of my name it contains the Bank's name below the dotted line. And they say, what's in a name !!!

I am going to name my child Union Bank so that he/she never has to suffer the trauma i've had to.

Though I'm not the praying kinds myself, when people tell me "Pray for me" or "keep me in your prayers", I take it seriously. Plan out a special session with Him to tell Him to keep them in His "TBD" list. Generally, there is something specific I am supposed to ask, like please let xyz get through the interview. But when I actually get down to asking, I keep thinking "Am I right in asking Him to do this? Does xyz really deserve this? Would it not be unfair to others ? ...." As if He is waiting there to do just what I ask. Finally, I end up saying something like "God, please give xyz what he deserves", sounding more like I'm cursing than praying !!!

God, or lets say the creator of this world, in his infinite wisdom, decided to create as many classes of people as there are objects. In non cs language, that means he decided to make each person unique. So that life becomes interesting, challenging, colourful. And while I don't doubt his infinite wisdom (God forbid !!!), I see one not so desirable consequence of this scheme of things. All around, people who are not at all compatible, are forced to live together. While there is nothing "bad" about them individually, some kinds just cant get along with other kinds. Like, though there is nothing inherently wrong with either a square peg or a round hole, it makes no sense trying to force one into another.

A big fish came and ate up all the small fish. And so, i didn't have small things to put up on my blog for sooo long.

I'm back !!!
Had a great time at home. Diwali was the usual "bored-of-crackers-but-never-of-sweets" stuff.
Watched Hungama like a tele-serial, in 15 to 20 minute episodes, complete with commercial breaks.

Learnt that if hopes are dupes, fears will be liars.

Missed my office diwali gift :(( Will get it on the first of Nov now. Hope i am disciplined enough till then to fit into it. Have been a bit optimistic and ordered Medium size.

Watched Office Space, a really cool movie about ..... guess .... frustrated software professionals :))

Back to routine, but not particularly sad about it.

Blogging from home for the first time. Not a bad day overall. Managed to put in a decent amout of studies without getting that i-dont-want-to-ever-look-at-a-book-again feeling. This was adied by a short visit to the office, just cant stay off that place.
For the first time in sooo many years of my life, i was home in the pre-diwali period.This is mainly because i went to a school which on a generous year, gave 3 days off for diwali and the tamil deepawali invaliably ended before those 3 days.Since Mummy too went to the same school(as a teacher obviously), she had to take leave to make sweets.Everyday, bhai and i would rush home to find out what sweet she'd made that day. And some day, she'd say, Today I cleaned the kitchen. And we'd think, what a waste!! No matter how clean the kitchen looked, it couldn't justify all that precioius time which could have been spent making sweets, sweets and more sweets. Today, for the first time,I saw all that went to the cleaning. Whew!! Just seeing was overwhelming !!



I hope there someone in this big wide world has carried out a study that concludes that studying increases the appetite. I really don’t see any other way to explain the indecent quantity of food that has been vanishing down my food pipe lately. People who have seen me eat may not be really surprised, but believe me, i've surprised myself !!! If this continues, it will not be long before i'm well on my way to becoming the female incarnation of Dudley Dursley :((



Tell-tale signs that i've been studying:
A set of books in every room of the house (including the kitchen at times)
Pages of doubts that i have a record of never having asked anyone (doesn't mean i find answers to them, i just dont ask)
Manifold increase in the amount of talking done with Bhai, with the central topic of discussion being how we will avenge all this studying once exams get over.
Old issues of Reader's Digest and Archies end their hibernation



Needed: Another study that concludes that study of compliers and Operating Systems induces severe ache in the lower back and what i think is called the ball-and-socket-joint.

On leave for a week. The first time in one year and a few months that I am taking leave. People keep telling me i should be given an award.
Though i keep cribbing about work, I'm not really looking forward to my leave. At least, work keeps you occupied. You have the morning tea break, the lunch break, walk, "sitting-on-the-sofa" break, coffee time, snacks, baddie, blogs ... (of course, i work !!)

I'm going to miss it all :((

To make my ride from home to office more interesting and challenging (you can imagine how interesting my life must be), i decided not to use the brakes of my 2 wheeler. Not "not at all", but not "until it is a question of someone's life and death". It turned out to be easier than i thought. Except for signals, and the final turn to my place (the width of the 'road' there must be almost 2 meters) i'm able to get to office in one piece everyday. You really can control the vehicle using the accelerator only, and i'm secretly hoping this would increase the mileage.

But now, i've observer a strange behaviour. I sort of remember reading something in Bio about some organs that stop doing what they are supposed to do if not used for generations. Think they have a name, also think it starts with v. Well, dunno if my two wheeler has become a follower of Darwin's theories, but thats sort of what's happened to my breaks. They've evolved into v-organs. They don't work anymore.

I am now forced to do what i voluntarily set out to do. Compulsory things are not fun.

Two conclusions about life that i reached over the weekend:

1. Just when you are thinking that things can't possible get worse in a certain department, life has it's ways of telling you "Think again !"

2. Nothing lasts forever. Your likes, dislikes, desires, goals ...
This is really scary. Imagine that you say to yourself, this is where i want to be 10 years from now. And you work really really hard to get there. Say 5 years down the line, or worse 9 and a half years down the line, you realize you don't want to be there after all. It is some consolation if the journey was worth it, but if not, the whole thing is an utter waste.

Just stating the conclusions here, and not the observations that lead to them. I have concluded that conclusions are more glamorous than the observations that lead to them.

I think i have become one of the most infrequent visitors of my own blog :( Such a looong time since I've written anything. And no particular reason. Life's just been as always. Boring in patches and interesting in other patches.
My current work is so interesting and challenging, that if i don't supplement it with songs, i can sit at home (eating and sleeping being much easier at home :)). Pooja pointed me out to a great collection of Tamil songs. Been listening to them ever since. And each day, some song catches my attention. No, not catches, grabs, usurps, completely takes control. I keep humming it all day long. I listen to it many "one last time"s before going home. It is a funny sight - me with headphones on, staring at my wallpaper, shaking what little of my body i can within the confines of my chair, tapping my foot on the CPU and smiling away. It's a great feeling - keep wishing i can carry the song with me.
I do manage to carry some part of it. Not being very conversant with tamil, i don't catch half the lyrics. And not being very conversant with singing, i cant reproduce half the tunes. And so, i am la-la-laaing most of the time. No one at home can make out what i am singing (?!). "If you are going
to be like this all night, u'd better sleep in the hall" - encouraging words by bhai, who else ? I naturally respond by becoming even more loud.

Just imagine doing something that brings so much joy to the world. Wish i were doing something like that. I'd give anything to be able to just play the songs.

there was a little girl
who had a written curl
right in the midddle of her forhead

when she was good
she was very very good
when she was bad
she was hooooooooooorid

Me.
And my baddie playing.

Today was one of the horrid days :(

Of men and motorbikes

What is it with come men and motorbikes? Why do they think that bikes are strictly part of the male domain? I was talking to some friends and saying how i've always wanted to ride a bike, when one of them asks me "Why"? And there is so much of pain in his eyes. As if I am spoiling something beautiful just for the fun of it. Like if a girl rides a bike, it will no longer be manly to do so. Why does it have to be manly? It is just a mode of transport, for God's sake.
Another objection is, it is not feminine to ride a bike. Girls should stick to "Activa", one of them says. That's what suits them.

Anyway, in a few years time, i think they'll all get used to it. I mean, i don't think there is anyone who thinks jeans have become less manly because girls wear them.

Had my appraisal a few days ago, and my blog was actually mentioned in it !!!! My team lead said that he'd read my blogs and that there is a certain flow in my writing. And that i should try and do that in the mails i write to the client.
He right. The mails i used to write just a few months ago - GOD !! Each of them had to be reviewed by him. Wish i had saved both copies of the mails - pre-review and post-review. It would form classic teaching material. My written communication has improved more from his reviews than from classes specially conducted for this purpose.

Of course, i'm not blaming the classes - i know how seriously i attended them ;-)

Ahhhhh ....

Saw Rules yesterday, and MIlind Soman looks unbelievable in it. There is one question that always comes to my mind when i see really beautiful people (so far, only two people fall into this category - Milind Soman and Julia Roberts) - How do they live with themselves ? How do they handle all that beauty ?
People who almost made it to this category - Aishwarya Rai and Brad Pitt.

Science and Art

IMO, there are two classes of 'computer people'. One class which considers computers a science,a and one class which considers it an art. People who consider it an art, see something beyond facts and reasoning. They see something beautiful in the way things work. They are really passionate about things, be it a certain method, a certain language, a certain paradigm ... And they have very little patience with the other class of people, whom they consider, well, to put it politely, fools. These 'fools' are not really fools, but people who lack their knowledge and passion and vision. ( i may be a little biased here, because i am one of those 'fools')

I have had the opportunity to attend a few lectures by the 'arty' types, and each of them have been memorable. Though i don't remember the content (thus proving that i am one of those 'fools'), i remember the feeling well. There is the happiness of having seen something beautiful, mingled with the sadness that i have to be shown that beauty in order to be able to see it.

Argggggh

Variety, they say, is the spice of life. Ever heard of a stomach upset because of too much of spice? Or rather, too much of a particular spice.
There are a variety of people in this world. And there are a variety of music bands to cater to their tastes. And certain variety of people like certain variety of bands. And certain variety of people
can't stand certain variety of bands. And if these two variety of people happen to live in the same house, argggggh

Bhai had built up quite a collection of songs on our new PC. There really was variety. Unfortunately, the hard disk developed bad sectors, and he could save only a few 'precious' songs. The whole weekend, he kept playing them again and again and again. And not one of them of the variety i can stand. Argggggh

My weekend was filled with people screaming
"This is the 21st century"
"It doesn't even matter"
"Somewhere i belong"
"Bhai pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee"

One fine day

You are trying to learn something new, and you keep trying and trying and trying, with no result at all. You don't know if you are capable of doing it. You don't even know if you are headed in the right direction. And then, one fine day, things suddenly click. For no special reason, you start doing things well. The ugly duckling suddenly becomes a swan.

This happened so many times with me. Happened when i was learning TT, when i was learning to ride the scooter, when i was trying to lose weight, and now, when i am trying to play baddie.

You might say its okay, because in the end it doesn't matter. But, i find it scary for two reasons.One is, that there is no motivation to keep trying. How do you know that you are not just an ugly duckling?
Another reason is, what guarantee that the way you got it all one fine day, you wont lose it all?

Logic-less things are really scary.

Never ever sit on the back seat of a 350 cc bike unless you are ready to cling to the driver like your life depends on it. And believe me, your life does depend on it.

Finally !!! Got a baddie racquet yesterday. A big thanks to all those people whose racquets contributed to my progress (?!)

Games....Baaah

As if it was not enough that I was bad at two games, I was recently inspired to try my hand at a third. The main source of inspiration was the prescence of a carrom board, and the fact that there were about 10 people waiting to play baddie and 10 more for TT. My friend and I, ever ready for (mis)adventures of this sort, decided to give carrom a shot. I reasoned that since you do not need strength to play carrom, and that was the 'sole' reason why i was pathetic at baddie, carrom could not be so bad. I was not bad, after all. I was pathetic, miserable, hopeless. My hands were actually shaking when i tried hitting the striker. Put in not even 4 coins in 4 games. And, that too, two of them of the opposite teams :( There was even this coin that was designated my "favourie one", since i had spent one whole game trying to put that in.

Why ????

Why do boys have to be good at all games by default? And why does it take girls eternity to learn? I apologize to those miniscule percentage of girls who are naturally good. But on the whole, i havn't come across many girls of that kind. Even if they do exist, i am sure it is to prove the exception to the rule.

Rode the bike !!!! Not as bad as i thought i would be. Once even managed to kick start the bike while sitting on it. But as of now, the fact that i can ride a bike gives me more pleasure than riding the bike itself.

The road that we took has a paraplegic home on one side. (Dictionary.com says paraplegia means "Complete paralysis of the lower half of the body including both legs, usually caused by damage to the spinal cord"). This one is for the army people. Any time you pass from the road, you can see a few of them hanging around on their wheel chairs. Middle aged men most of them, and quite fit otherwise. When i was in college, my bus used to go by that route. And, notwithstanding the fact that it was 7 in the morning, a group of them would be sitting near the gate, waiting to wave out to us. And, the people in the bus would wave back. A small, few seconds routine, but it touched the lives of all involved. One guy in particular, always caught my attention. An oldish sort of fellow, his face was so full of life and happiness, one could not believe he has nothing much to look forward to in life. It was the simple joy of being alive.

While i was struggling with the bike, cursing everything from my short legs to the bike manufacturers, these men were quietly watching me and smiling. What they would not have given to be in my position - a whole life ahead of me, and everything i need to live it to the fullest. We owe it to them to do something worthwhile. (Unfortunately, all these are just momentary inspirations :( )

And, to what end did they make such a sacrifice? Who has the right to ask it of them? And whose duty is it to see that the rest of their life is not a waste?

Again, i come back to the system.

I now know why a release is called a release.

Va Va Vroommmm
Bhai is finally getting his bike. And, my long cherished dream of riding one will be fulfilled.
I'm going to ride it all over the place. Ride him. Definitely male.

I'll be watching you

I have this allergy to certain food stuffs, and when i eat something that doesn't suit me, it results in a terrible cold. After years of treatment, my resistance has considerably gone up.
Just the day before yesterday, i was marveling at how i hadn't fallen sick in a loooooong time. And, the very next day, i was down with a bona-fide attack. The runny nose, the sore throat, the head ache, the body ache, the sleepless nights . . . the works.
It was almost like He was up there singing

Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I'll be watching you

Spooky.

Or maybe, i'm looking for meaning where there is none.

Sometimes, i feel God is just another name for coincidence.

It's a dog's world

I have a friend who is mortally scared of dogs. She is convinced that every dog that ever there was, was born with one aim in, life - to bite her. And she has lots of proof to prove this. So naturally, when she and i go for a walk, I am the hero. I walk on the doggie side, i even shoo away the beast, if need be.
Now, my friend has gone to Bangalore. And how i miss her. Walking and talking with her, I discovered many things about myself, but NOT walking with with her has also taught me something. That I am no hero :(. I am probably not as afraid of dogs as she is, but I'm not much better.
My morning walk path is "infested" with dogs. All the stray dogs for miles around come out to wish each other good morning. Out of good manners, a few greetings are thrown my way too. And this almost makes me wish i had no legs, cause then i would not have to walk. There is one dog in particular, who simply loves to bark and growl. He (or she) will stand at the same point everyday, and start his barking-growling sequence the moment he spies anything remotely human. This used to send shivers all the way to the bottom of my spine every time i passed that point. But now, i have sort of got used to him. I can see that he comes in peace. This is not to say that i don't get shivers down my spine, but they don't go all the way down.
Who knows, some day, I might be even be singing "Me and you and a dog named Boo".

An anology

From the computer world (how else do I establish that i am a computer engineer). God was the developer of the system.
After he 'completed' development, he outsourced maintenance to us humans. (even God doesn't like maintenance !!!)

On the other hand, maintenance guys, take heart. This is the purpose of our lives. This is what God put us on earth for.

The solution ... ? (See "The problem" below)

It looks like the cause of the problem is that we humans do not follow one of the basic laws of
nature - "survival of the fittest". Because we have emotions, a 'heart', we have changed the law to -
"survival of every human being born". And because we are intelligent, we are able to find the ways
and means to ensure this. But nature was not designed for this kind of load. With fixed resources,
when quantity increases, quality is bound to go down.

The solution then, is to produce only that many human beings as can be sustained by nature. And
because, we have emotions, a 'heart' and because we are intelligent, we should be able to do this.

The problem

Reached at 7.35 for a farewell party that was to start at 7.30, and not surprisingly, was the first one. While I was waiting for the others to turn up, and promising myself an ice cream for every 5 minutes of delay, I saw some street children. There were three of them, around 6-7 years old, one brother - sister pair and a girl. They were fighting, and the girl was threatening to hit the sister. The brother was valiantly trying to protect his sis. All this was happening pretty close to where I was standing, and I stared at the three, in the hope that they would take their fight someplace else. The girl took this to be a sign of interest, and started justifying herself "I went to ask those didi's there and she came and swore at me" - she said, pointing to the lil sis. The sis, looking totally guilty, was hiding behind the brother. The brother, I just noticed, had some problem in one eye. The girl was bigger and healthier than both, and was succeeding in hitting them. I told them - "This is a big place, there is space for everyone. You two go this side and you go that side". With a parting shot at the brother, the girl disappeared.
Some time later, actually, a lot of time later, when we were leaving for the restaurant, I saw the girl again. She was begging from some new group of people and fighting with some new guy. All this seemed like a game to her. Something that children do all day. The ignominy, the hopelessness of her situation had not yet sunk in. To her, this was life, and it was not bad. Wish she never grows up .....

The bill for dinner came to 2500.

What kind of a system is this? And who is responsible? Man, or the one who created man ?

Ever felt that something nice that you happen to come across sort of becomes 'yours' ?

Like, I heard this relatively unknown song by Air supply, called "Making love out of nothing at all". It was simply beauuutiful. Told it to as many people as i could. Any anytime, any of them praise the song, or even hum it, I feel a surge of pride.

And one day, bhai was designing something on AutoCAD. And, he used some font to label the design. He was sooo mighty pleased with the font ( more mighty pleased than he was with the design itself).

Wonder why it happens. Maybe, just the joy of unearthing a thing of beauty.

Can only imagine how it must have felt to make the steam engine, or discover gravity ....

Thank you ....

I'm on top of the world
looking down on creation
and the only explanation i can find ...

is when i was coming back after my grueling (?) exercise routine at the park, a complete stranger walked up to me and said - " Nice aanh. You are getting thin. All this exercise is having effect. Don’t over do it, or you'll become thin like a stick"
Though the last sentence is an over over exaggeration besides being physically impossible, her words made my day.

Thank you, friend.

If you are not confident of laughing at other people's mistakes, you are not confident of not making them yourself.

Baddie rules

Long long ago, when i was a small child, my parents got us Badminton racquets. Really exited, bhai and i went out to play. Mummy was stading at the door, giving us instructions "Be nice to each other. Hit the shuttle in such a way that the other person can return it easily". And we followed. After all, that was the only way we could enjoy playing.

A few months later, i played with my father. He gave concession to the fact that i was a child, but could not resist hitting smashes once in a while. And, while one part of me adminred his smashes, another part used to get angry "Doesn't he want to play?"

Several years later, when i started working, i played with my colleagues. Nothing had prepared me for the way they played the game. The aim of the game was to hit the shuttle in such a way that the other person simply cannot return it. "Make him run, don't give it in his hand" they told me. And they were right. If i did make the mistake of giving the shuttle in his hand, i would be rewarded with a smash.

Now, i have learnt the rules of the game. My shots are no longer instinctive. I try to think before returning every shot. Try to place it such that the other person can't return it. And, i am rather enjoying the experience. Like one of my friends said "The feeling you get when you hit an unreturnable smash ... aaah"

Thats baddie, i guess. And thats life.

There are some days ....

1. The issue i am working on requires me to send a mail to an account accessible via Outlook. Our office has gone in for an SMTp server upgrade, and the new SMTP server decides to treat my mails as SPAM

2. Frustrated, i decide to go play some badminton. On my way to the court, i meet my TM who says "Lets have our weekly team meeting now".

3. I hurry up after a half-hearted game (thats right, i lost, thats right, i blame it on the TM) only to find that my team lead has more important things to do that attend meetings.

3. Twiddle my thumbs for almost an hour, when i get a call saying the SMTP server has kindly consented to not treat my mails as spam anymore.

4. Overjoyed(?) i immediately send a mail to myself, but get called for the meeting before i can check the results.

5. Come back from the meeting to find that though my mails are not spam anymore, his highness does not like my attachments, and has changed their names to suit his royal taste.

6. I am trying to figure out how exactly i have displeased his highness, and this displeases him even more. He is not sening anybody's mails anymore.

7. After frantic phone calls to anyone who can placate him, i decide to try my hand at another game. Since it is not a decent time for anyone to be playing, there are no decent shuttles around. Play several indecent games with several indecent shuttles (thats right we won, thats right, i blame it on my partner)

8. After an hour of indecency, i come up to find that people are still trying to get his highness to work. My misery has inspired me to start a blog. But it is not meant to be. The only thing essential to write a blog is missing. ( net connection, what else ?)

9. After watching half an episode of friends season 1, i decide to call it a day. Reach home at 11, half drenched.

Barely an hour away, tomorrow is another day ...