The Pendulum

Tick, tock, tick, tock, it keeps going.

The thing about a pendulum is that it always starts off at the golden centre. That is the mid-point of its path and the equilibrium of its existence.

Then some external force comes along and displaces the happy state of affairs. It moves thanks to this external force in one direction, slowly gaining an angle and reciprocatingly losing speed. As it arrives towards its extremity, there is an opposite force that starts working on it which prevents it from keeping on going in the same direction. Soon, kinetic energy converts into potential energy and it comes to a stand still for a microsecond.

The pent up potential energy it has is too much for it too sustain itself at one end of its trajectory. It slowly starts heading back towards its mid-point, its equilibrium. As the mid-point approaches, it rushes faster and faster towards it. But by the time it reaches the equilibrium, it has converted all the potential energy back into kinetic energy and it can't suddenly stop. In fact, the pendulum is at its fastest at its mid-point. Almost as if it wants to stay at the equilibrium for the least possible time.

The momentum doesn't let up and it keeps going. Only this time in the opposite direction, towards the other extreme. Before it is time to turn back and head back to the first extreme. And the same story repeats over and over. But not forever.

The laws of physics do not allow perpetual motion. Tiny frictions during the swing contribute to its gradual slowing. The friction could be in the pivot mechanism or between the bob and the air rushing past it. What's more there is also the force of gravity which constantly acts as a check on every swing of the pendulum, gradually slowing it down to a standstill.

The longer the rod, the heavier the bob, the smoother the pivot, the lesser the air and the lighter the gravity; the longer it will take for the pendulum to stop.

But sooner or later, it has to.

The auto-correct option

My iPhone has an auto-correct option.

It is intelligent. It can guess what I want to say even if it comes out wrong. Wish people had an auto-correct option. That way one can keep talking and the message going through to that person is always the right one. In fact the person, like my iPhone would always guess what I want to say and only hear that. Sounds perfect, doesn't it?

But what happens when I'm typing something which the iPhone doesn't recognise? There are two possibilities. It puts in a word that is closest to the one it doesn't recognise and completely garble the message in the process. Or else, it just lets it be thinking I must be knowing what I'm typing. So either the fault lies with the phone or with me, but the wrong things go through.

Sometimes I feel, people do have an auto-correct option. Most times, they filter through the incoming message to suit what they understand or feel good to hear. Or they just take me on face value thinking what I'm saying is what I'm meaning.

The only difference is that I can switch off the auto-correct option on my iPhone.

?

Why am I faced with a blank screen?
Why am I still awake though I am tired and miles away from home?
Why do I want to write something even though I have nothing to say?
Why must everything always make sense?
Why do I have this inane need to rationalise everything?
Why do I have to have everything straightened out even if it is just a picture on the wall?
Why do I abhor typos?
Is it an OCD?
So what if it is?
Why can't I let things be?
Am I afraid to let them?
What is the worst that could happen?
Will I be able to live it down if it would?
Will Calvin ever grow up?
Should he?
Will Mark ever make a mediocre song?
Why can't the iPhone have a better battery life?
Why can't I have a better battery life?
Can we truly feel alive without a struggle?
When will the work pressure ease up?
When will I retire?
When will I die?
Who will cry when that happens?
Am I happy with myself?
Can I truly love?
Why am I so loved?
Is it for my intelligence, charm, sardonic wit or is it just karmic?
Do I really want to know the answer?
Will I be happy if I get an honest one?
Who am I fooling?
Am I fooling myself above all?

Does every question have to be answered?

Any colour you like

People are like colours. Some are black - dark and depressing. Some are white - Innocent. Children are Yellow - optimisitic and cheerful. Youth is Orange - like yellow but more passionate. Red - fully physical and passionately lustful. Some are green people. They live for others. And there are the purple ones - the ones who expect others to serve them. Browns are practical. Blues are escapists.

Then there are the grey. Generally unnoticeable. Having no particular characteristic that stands apart. Boring? Yes. Stoic? Maybe. Their virtue? Predictability. Grey is defined as a neutral achromatic colour somewhere between black and white. I guess that's how the world looks at people who are grey. Colourless and forgettable.

I'm a grey. I like to think of myself as one of those. Why? Because I love grey. And I have my reasons.

Grey doesn't stand out. It's the colour of backdrops. It's the colour of mounts on which the layout has to be seen at its best. The colour of professionals. The colour of knowledge, technology, logic, balance and reason.

They say when you mix all the pigment colours you get black. And when you mix all light colours you get white. Both of these are absolutes. When you mix these two absolutes, you get grey. This makes grey the most inclusive colour in the universe. Multidimensional and deep. That's what grey is.

You can have any colour you like. I love grey. It has all the colours in it anyway.

-- Post From My iPhone

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

These are supposedly the unalienable rights of human beings, as stated in the United States Declaration of Independence.

Life. In simple terms, existence. Living. Not being dead yet. Breathing in and out. Going from one day to another. Meeting people. Parting with them. Touching each other in every way possible. Thinking. Feeling. Expecting. Rejecting.

Ultimately the life of every human being is nothing but the sum total of all the connections that they make while they are still a mass of carbon compounds and complex chemical reactions. Even a vegetable on life support in an ICU is connected. Maybe just to the extent where his relatives are wondering about whether or when to pull the plug. Once the plug is pulled, the connection is severed and life is gone.

Liberty. Freedom. No encumbrances. Choice. Will. The ability and the willingness to choose a course of action that one wants.

Life is useless without Liberty. At the same time, if Life is nothing but the sum total of connections, is there ever real Liberty? True Liberty would mean living life on terms of nobody else’s but one’s own. That implies having absolutely no connections with anyone at all. Which in turn means being dead.

So ultimately, it seems like Life and Liberty are forces that pull in opposite directions. Strangely one cannot exist without the other – the dead cannot exert any free will, can they? So all of us exist from one day to another, convincing ourselves that in a small way we are alive and pretend to be rational animals always taking the best choices available for us. The greatest irony of all is the Statue of Liberty. An 111 feet tall lady pretending to be the symbol of liberty for all the world, permanently frozen in time. Without even the choice of lowering her aching hand for a second.

Pursuit of Happiness. Note the use of the word ‘pursuit’. Keep chasing. More than the happiness, it is the pursuit that is the unalienable right of all human beings. It is implied in the phrase itself, that happiness can never be attained. Is it any wonder at all, given that Life and Liberty are constantly at loggerheads?

I normally like to end my posts with a well thought out conclusion. Right now I’m not in the mood. In fact, this whole business of Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness itself is a load of depressing bullshit.

True friendship

Calvin is a young kid. But he has had a tough life so far. Plagued with issues ever since he came of age, his only release is his hyperactive imagination. Most times cynical, some times sad, he goes through life battling all the evils that prevent him from living life on his own terms. He has seen a lot in life and feels jaded sometime. Most times he appears to be just another cute naughty kid. But there are a lot of hidden depths that he has. All said and done, you can't help love Calvin for what he is and what he is likely to grow up to.

Hobbes is a stuffed tiger. To everyone he's an inanimate object. For Calvin though, he's the most alive being in the world. One can say that Hobbes is a part of Calvin's hyperactive imagination. But I like to believe that Hobbes chooses to come alive to help his best buddy go through life happily and have fun.

Calvin brings Hobbes to life. Hobbes adds meaning to Calvin's life. Calvin and Hobbes are constant companions. They are friends forever. Hobbes is the prime voice of reason for Calvin. He is also his partner in crime. His best friend. It's too much to say that Calvin needs a philosopher and guide as he himself is too clever (sometimes by half). But Hobbes is always there to make sure that Calvin doesn't self destruct in one of his flights of fancy.

Calvin is bound to grow up sooner or later. Sooner or later he won't be needing Hobbes anymore. He will go off to college and then pursue an amazing career in some field which does justice to his creativity. He will surely not be in a profession like his father. Maybe he will write a book someday. Maybe become a fabulous director like Tarantino. Or a hugely syndicated cartoonist like Scott Adams. Or even become like Steve Jobs, a cynical, mad, creative genius. Whatever he chooses, I'm sure that Calvin has an amazing life ahead.

Hobbes will probably stay where he is. His stuffing will soon come out. Probably start losing his eyesight when the buttons pop out. I can picture him lying on a corner of Calvin's bed when he's gone off to college. Trying to remember the amazing tuna sandwiches and the adventures with his best friend.

But one thing is for sure. If ever Calvin would need a best friend again in life, Hobbes will come alive again. And they can then resume all their adventures and complete each other yet again.

But that's in the future. Today Calvin is still six and Hobbes is still needed. And as long as that stays, the adventures of Calvin and Hobbes still continue.








-- Post From My iPhone

Manhattan

Oh Manhattan!

The best place to be in the world. I have been there only thrice in my life but the memories of it will never go away. People generally fantasize about a green, verdant getaway away from the so-called hustle-bustle of the city. I on the other hand, dream of getting away to the most vibrant city in the world - the big apple.

My fascination for the place was probably founded in my reading of Ayn Rand in those impressionable years. She eulogizes Manhattan as the amazing landmark of man's ingenuity. Everything from the skyscrapers to the subway network going down five levels under the ground in some places, has been made by man. How else can a tiny island become the commercial capital of the entire world?

I love the sights of Manhattan. The yellow cabs. The cops directing traffic. Hundreds of people crossing the road when the signal turns to 'walk'. Rows upon rows of shop windows. Scaffoldings on building fronts. Bums on the sidewalks. Lights at Times Square. You just have to look up and you can see the amazing shapes that the sky takes in the middle of the skyscrapers. Ayn Rand would have surely approved how man's intellect has made a work of art out of the boundless sky by giving it boundaries.



















I love the sounds of Manhattan. The constant siren wails. The rushing of the subway train under the sidewalk. The noise of the incessant traffic. A trumpet player in the subway station. In the midst of all that cacophony, if you listen carefully, you can actually hear the music of Manhattan. The sounds somehow reflect the complete harmony of the millions of humans and machines coexisting in a tightly cramped space.

I even love the smells of Manhattan. The petrol fumes. The pizza flavours wafting out of the pizzerias. The tantalizing coffee smells from the hundreds of Starbucks scattered all over the island. At the southern tip, you can even get the smell of the sea if the wind is right. They say the sense of smell provides the maximum nostalgia. And Manhattan in all its smells makes an indelible impression on the visitor.

But above all, I love Manhattan for the way it can be represented as a person.

It is systematic and orderly. There are parallel, criss-crossing streets and avenues which makes it absolutely impossible to get lost in there.

It is obviously wealthy. But quite understated. The Waldorf barely has a porch that opens out to a sidewalk! A millionaire walks to work with a coffee and a bagel because she can't find parking space. I love that about Manhattan.

It keeps its distance from people. It does not get in your face. Nobody is too interested in their neighbours' lives. It can be cold and distant but it cares.

It is balanced. It has a huge, natural ecosystem in the middle of a concrete jungle.

It is tasteful. One of the world's fashion capitals and some of the best museums in the world. At the same time extremely grounded in practical reality.

So there you have it. Manhattan anthropomorphised. Systematic, orderly, wealthy, down to earth, understated, distanced, caring, balanced, tasteful and realistic.

No wonder I will probably be most at home there.


-- Post From My iPhone

Back again

October was bad. All personal targets weren't met. Gym ground to a complete halt. Diet went out of control. Generally down with fatigue and boredom.

November will be better. Today's just the second day and I've already done everything I had to for the day and it's not even 10 am. Including reviving the blog.

Looking forward to the next two months. Want to work hard and also catch up on a lot of personal time.


-- Post From My iPhone