Ubuntu 10.10 Filesystem access through windows 7

For a long time I was waiting for a good app to access my linux FS without booting into it.
Lo and behold, here it is

http://sourceforge.net/projects/ext2read/files/Ext2read%20Version%202.2%20(Latest)/ext2explore-2.2.71.zip/download

It works nicely for my windows. I havent tried writing to linux, but read works like a charm.

Discovering order in chaos and learning to control it

A course I have taken this semester has lent my imagination a new kick-start. When you learn about Karl Sims' creatures, Hod Lipson's data extraction, Turing's reaction diffusion models and Neumann's self replicator, you are dumb founded, inspired, amazed.

To this day I believe in my skills as an observer and experimenter, but when I read about Neumann and his penchant to visualize processes, trace phenomena correctly without any knowledge I am left speechless. Turing's quirkiness was particularly well known, but his thought about finding patterns through morphogenesis and obviously the Turing machine. The present day researchers are not too far behind, Lipson's work seems interesting and very promising.

Now that I have all that out of my system, let me talk about these few guys from the max planck institute who have aroused my curiosity and beckoned my imagination to sit and ponder of the what-ifs and could-bes. This  bunch of people who have been featured in nature - http://www.nature.com/nphys/journal/v6/n3/full/nphys1508.html have observed unique neural behaviour in insects and captured it in a simple neuron model whose ground state is chaotic but is controlled by sensory inputs  to generate behaviours. These discoveries in the neural behaviour and contruction could shed light on the actual neural processes in humans leading to potentially simple and effective models of behaviour. In combination with techniques like subsumption architectures(doomed as a failure or atleast not so successful), we could look at simple and evolvable solutions to various problems in locomotion and path planning.

Going further,  if we could apply a chaotic organization mechanism to the reasoning process in AI, we would have made great advances. The reasoning scheme in AI has huge problems with representation and these problems will continue to haunt us, but some progress towards such self organizing behavior would definitely go a long way.

Player - stage Installation

Installing the player/stage I ran into a few problems and did not find good solutions, I am posting what worked for me-


1. Download the player project
2. Extract the player folder
3. sudo apt-get install python-gdal netcdfg-dev libpq-dev libhdf4g-dev libgeos-dev libatk1.0-0 lib3ds-dev freeglut3-dev
4. Run cmake (if you want create a directory for build like the install guide specfies)
5. Run make
6. Run sudo make install
7. add the following to your .bashrc file 

export PATH=$PATH:"/usr/local/lib64"
export PLAYERPATH="/usr/local/lib":"/usr/local/lib64"
export LD_LIBRARY_PATH=$LD_LIBRARY_PATH:"/usr/local/lib":"/usr/local/lib64"


This should get you to set up.

This link http://www.control.aau.dk/~tb/wiki/index.php/Installing_Player_and_Stage_in_Ubuntu has a lot of information for installing and configuring your player information

The vienna philharmonic star wars

Any like minded geek would have heard of star wars, seen it, worshipped yoda and lucas. The movie acts at different levels, playing out human relationships and the ever prevalent fight between good and evil. There would definitely have been times when people have referenced the death star,  the "may the force be with you" in situations totally unrelated to the empire or the jedi knight.

I have really enjoyed the star wars music, humming "da dada da daaa, pom papapum".  This music evokes emotions in humans which can range from "oh no not that song" to "wow" to "what the hell is that?". Surmising these emotions in a word can never be done, so I shall let you see the magic that this music can create.

Recraeted by the vienna philharmonic - the star wars theme in all its glory.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9xrmThlsOA

(p.s.:  look at the number of people sitting to watch and listen to this, cross cultural, cross planetary, and simply superb)

The amazing fractals

Fractals are a intricate design pattern generally self repetitive and aesthetically pleasing. They are things you see in everyday life, snowflakes, coast lines, fruits. Nature likes to deal with fractals and why not considering there is such symmetry.

Being introduced to fractals in my course and learning about the pioneering fractals has been pleasurable. Learning that Turing was really interested in reaction diffusions for morphogenesis and made some pioneering contributions has only increased my admiration of the queer genius.

Some of the images do look like the Rorschach test replications, they seem nice, generally colourful in a hue of blue, yellow or red. Turing was trying to set up a mathematical or state model explanation for the generation of patterns in nature. How does a cheetah get its dots, how does a zebra get its stripes and the general things common people never ponder over.

It is amazing how a small set of rules and parameters generate the most intricate patterns. You can have a look at them here : http://cgjennings.ca/toybox/turingmorph/. There is a nice applet which animates the whole process.

Back to the roots

Its been a long hiatus from writing, and writing again feels great. The last few months have been really a foot on the pedal with no brakes for me. I have ventured upon life in a graduate school, which is not the easiest because you have to be on the edge, multitasking, working hard and mostly keeping sane.

The last month has been a real adventure of sorts, getting to meet a lot of people, some with matching wavelengths and some from a different planet. Running around pillar to post getting myself organized, running up my google calendar to maximize my free time. Sometimes it turns out technology actually slows you down, but that a entire debate for another day. I have been a little lucky, coming in tired and landing without any jetlag. A week at my uncles place grounded in Indian tradition. A good friend who took out an unseen person to dinner.The really small things that helped me in a new environment.

Now that I am almost settled in and opened my cobwebbed blogger account, I realized its been more than 2 months since I had posted anything. So I decided to update my activities and start posting more about my studies here, general interests, debates and other myriad stuff which are generally of no interest to me. (pun intended). No goals set on the blogger time limit in my calendar for sure.

The new canon SD 780 IS - my second love

Its black, hardly bigger than a credit card and takes great photos. This is the new canon sd 780 IS. A wonderfully good camera, which trespasses the bounds on size and compactness. I would have wanted a few more features and a better ISO rendering, but with what I paid for it, this seems very good.

The portability is so good, it will fit into the back of any jeans or slide into any pouch. I would not say best picture quality I have seen, but it does have a nice macro. Shooting in auto in low light conditions is a definite no-no, the flash turns on and ruins the effects on any background. The High ISO ranges need a tripod and some real skill to get decent images.The zoom does not range long, and the digital zoom for once is not half bad, though I would never resort to it personally.

This would detract most of the users from this camera, but for a on the go snap shooter this is better than anything in the market.

Looking forward to unleash the amateur photographer in me.

Looking past differences

Generation gap, cultural divide, intellectual gap and  religious divide. As I list out these very common catch phrases I can only see  the one clear fact in front of me; the petty differences that divide and segregate us humans.

The juvenile behaviour you sometimes see from the best of adults (an uncommon phrase used to describe the  exhaustively composed individuals) surprises you to the point of awe and gape. Silly people fighting with auto drivers, scolding people on the road, making profane gestures and signs. I would say even the best of us are caught unawares. These are the common paradigms we come across in our daily lives. We start to shout and honk at people who are driving slowly on the road. We look at a temple and immediately bow down to the lord, sometimes even remove our slippers or shoes before doing that, and if we are driving slow our cars down .to see the lord. This is acceptable and the norm, but if someone slows down to find parking or drop off someone we are irate and annoyed. I have seen many a times people pass comments on the auto drivers as being illiterate brutes, a substantial generalization and demeaning attitude in my point of view. As educated and cultured folks we should be understanding of others and accepting of weaknesses and strengths.

Stemming from the streets of bangalore; one frustrated commuter to another, next time, "think before you honk". Not all auto drivers are brutes or cunning foxes who use some magical mind control techniques to veer into your path. A little patience and a great deal of calm will go a long way.

Nervous first steps

Its official now, I will be leaving for my further studies to the americas. I am hoping for a great learning experience and putting some thought into understanding the cultures and diversities. As I prepare for this arduous journey of my life, I am nervous as any other person. This is quite expected and understandable according to the many people I have talked to(wry smile).

I am keeping myself busy taking driving lessons and visiting my relatives and friends. There are many emotions that pass through as you meet a few people, you are overwhelmed, distraught, happy. Sometimes you also feel like you are not missing people, they are going to stay forever. What with the internet and all, it seems like you are in the same room. All hail skype and google.

There is still a lot of shopping and small things I have to finish. A few small trips, a few friends to meet, a few goodbyes to say. All in all, I am hoping the next few days will be exciting with the shade of nostalgia and gripe laughter. Fingers Crossed :) .

The era of fountain pens and leather bound books

My gift for my 12th birthday was a leather bound diary which started my love for writing. I have lost that diary in the numerous times I have shifted my house, but the memories of writing in that book still lingers on. A leather bound diary is very exotic and harps on the old world, giving you the unique distinction of either being a romantic or an old foolish git. I still maintain a couple of hardbound dairies now to pen down my random thoughts and musings and it still feels exotic today.

Among my recent acquisitions are a couple of exquisite fountain pens. One of them is from a chinese company, which I must admit is very good in spite of the skepticism about their build quality. The other is a waterman, my truly prized possession in the recent century. The waterman I own comes with a black body and a chrome cap, writes a medium and is supposedly made in Paris. The reactions I have received to this ownership has itself been amusing, with some thinking it to be lower than a hero, and some throwing the "awwww...." in my face. I positively beam when people come to recognize my possession, and generally start dawdling about how people today no longer use the fountain pens. (yeah, I know I'm a materialistic freak....and the yada yada that goes with it!!!, but come on if I owned the monalisa wouldn't I beam about it??)

This is the age of I pads and net-books, writing being only an obligatory indulgence to the tech-savvy who would care to maintain a fountain pen. The banias and vegetable vendors are more than happy with the ball-points and would only care less to go searching for ink. The era of fountain pens as I see it is completely dwindling.

Age of Criticism

I was talking to one of my friends the other day and came upon a rather unique critique. This in many parts was a  discussion on the critique itself. The argument stressed on the point of expert critiques of the day and age. The first point of consideration was how good Rajeev Masand and Karan Thapar are, presenting an objective view to any argument.

Digressing a little from the topic we went on to talk about the opinionated world we live, everyone I know has a opinion on everything be it sports, entertainment, politics or scandals. No one even flinches once but is ready to give an opinion and debate on a unknown topic, and before there is a barrage of criticism against this let me clarify, I am also among the people who criticize and debate on varied topics.

The point I am trying to make here is this, we all criticize the government, the bad roads, the traffic jams, bad movies, bad songs, Himesh Reshamiya, Emraan Hashmi and of course Shashi Tharoor. We are ready to make a rap sheet and list the qualities in dry sarcasm or witless humor, sounding condescending or downright irate. The bloggers are especially the most unforgiving ones, one small scandal or wrong step and there are a flurry of posts presenting their varied opinions. A few tactful people pull off am amazing round up of the events but the rest are just left staring at their opinion drowning in the ocean of mindless drub.

The opinionated are more concerned about voicing their opinion however callow they might be. Its no longer about putting a valid argument but just putting an argument. You can say "the bird is flying" or "the cat is singing" in response to Tharoor's dismissal from cabinet and viola you are an epitome to Thapar's legacy of journalism and Kushwant Singh's humour.

All I am saying is its sometimes best to just shut your mouth and swallow your pride.

Darwin, survival and all that talk

Darwin, the father of evolution proposed the single greatest phenomenon in nature. He observed "survival of the fittest", a grand plan in the scheme of nature, a descriptive force only bettered by the might of creation. The laurels to the observation can go on.

This phenomenon has single-handedly defined our generation. In many ways we are stuck in a rat race which we are involuntarily a part of. We tend to have the survival skills at our sharpest as resources are dwindling and ability to achieve depends on the ability we have.  This generation probably has a hunger that can never be satiated by  nature. 

Everything has grown in our times and gone global, if we look at just one generation before, they wanted to settle for plushy jobs working 9 to 6, have a family and try to move less frequently; today we look for the proverbial "greener pastures" in moving to other countries and taking up better jobs.Change was a dreaded word and no one ever looked forward to it. There was a lot of red tape and underhanded office politics but it was mostly manageable. In todays corporate environment there is no red tape, partly because it promotes quick decisions and brings about progress and partly because the environment is very unstable. The office politics stoops to new lows and sometimes borders on "how much kiss-ass can you give me?". 

The market today changes rapidly, the next big thing integrates more actions into one and alienates people for the most crucial part. There was a day when you were charged extra money to use the ATM and internet banking facilities were never heard of, today banks charge money if you actually step into a physical facility. Its not just the banks here, my cellphone service provider Vodafone used to provide toll free customer service, now I am greeted by a message from some machine saying, " Our IVR menu options have been enhanced to serve you better", and doles out some gibberish that I have to carefully listen. Of course not all things are bad, the exposure to events across the globe, voicing out our opinion for a just cause and easy filing  of taxes are all great. When you ponder over the need for such things its mainly because we don't have time anymore, for a quick chat with our neighbor, or standing in a queue to pay a bill. We complain about travelling  an hour or more in a comfortable bus with push back seats. Our best friends are the people we say "hi" to over a  telephone line. We mostly wait for the weekend to drown ourselves in some mindless entertainment or a pint of beer. We want to fight for causes and make a difference in other people's lives, with no consideration of our own. 

Its all down to a numbers game in the end, how many times have you gone abroad, how many  employees do you have, how much revenue was generated, how much was the profit, how much money did you make, how many people did you help, how many friends do you have on facebook and the list is endless. The rat race is on in every sphere of our lives today, from the corporate world to personal life and in the great words of Darwin "survival of the fittest".  

Writing

The joys of writing are innumerable. As I sit and ponder over the many questions that arise in my daily life and surroundings, I like to write. Its not for the purposes of mere documentation, or recollection at a later point in time. Most of the entries in my dairies have never been read by me. There is a sense of calm and peace I derive from my writing. The visualization of the events and penning them down with the exact phrases to describe my feelings at that moment, gives me an immense euphoric pleasure.

Writing for me is more about my emotions than about writing itself. As I reflect on the one thought that overcame my senses, the one event flashing before my eyes or the one word I held onto dearly, I am reassured.

Most of my writing has been very private, to the point that no one has seen it. The transition I am trying to make to more public writing is difficult, I am not sure I am able to comprehend perception. I like to write my dairies and enjoy them very much, but writing for an audience, trying to convey an idea or an message is much more difficult. The skepticism of acceptance and the baseless ridicule makes me only wish I could elucidate better.

The thinking that goes into my writing is what makes me unique, or so I like to believe. The sense of putting my words in ways that can affect another man's thinking, opening the boundaries and crossing the borders is what makes me write this blog. As I gain more experience and cultivate the skills to write fashionably, I only hope to derive the same pleasure I am doing now.

As I wind up there is a very famous quote that stays with me "cogito ergo sum", "I think, therefore I am".

Ranganathan street - the whys and agony

The Ranganathan street is a famous place for shopping in chennai, it is like the mini chickpet or avenue road of bangalore. The analogy I draw here only establishes the feel for the place nowhere near close to describing its appearance. 

I was warned beforehand about this place, but my curiosity got me for the better. The day I was on this street was right after Pongal, one of the biggest festivals in southern India, celebrated with great ardor and pompous show. The drive to Ranganathan street was very pleasant, going from sterling road nungambakkam through to usman road. 

The sight that awaits you at the end of this journey is nothing short of breathtaking, suffocating and overwhelming all at the same time. Alighting my the auto right at the end of the flyover, I was greeted to a show of lights, a dazzling display of greens, yellows and oranges. The streets on Usman road were clogged to a small extent, I was beguiled at the appearance. As I walked led by my aunt, I bumped into a few people, lost my aunts hand for a second but quickly regained it. There were numerous street peddlers selling fancy trinkets, nothing the sort i had not seen in Bangalore. 

In a few moments of pondering and maneuvering I reached ranganathan street, the street was clogged with people. The only comparison I could draw was commercial street and that does not even cut the mark, there were no chances of vehicular movement on the street, the people were choker blocked. Tall building flanked me on both sides, saravana stores, jeyachandran textiles, the flashing lights, small ice cream stalls, Gobi Manchurian vendors, this one street could cut the records.

I was accompanying my mother and aunts on a shopping spree. I have heard you should never go shopping with women, the corollary to that never go shopping with 3 women. I was stuck at hours end while shopping for sarees, gold and various other trinkets. The one odd thing was that there were no chairs at any of the shops, absolutely none, except for the gold shop. This meant I was either standing clueless or wandering aimless in the aisles, sometimes caring to venture out to the streets for a breath of fresh air.

I was always under the impression my family had a fetish for gold, fool me not, but the amount of gold I saw people buy in the close to half hour in the gold shop, made me understand gold rush. I would never say gold was a precious metal at the speed which it was sold.

Tired and famished I finally retreated a quick getaway to another smaller shop right at the very mention. The last shop we visited was on the usman road and a relatively quiet one, after this it was a happy ride back home to dinner. A truly awe inspiring experience, huge buildings to cater to people's shopping sprees. The women in Bangalore have no clue what they are missing out on!!

The grim reaper calling

I have witnessed the work of the grim reaper thrice in the last year. Death is a state of mind more than the state of body. The mental anguish that one goes through on losing someone near and dear is only comprehensible on a deeper level. It batters you down and puts you in a state of shock and denial. It takes a small chronicling to justify your fears and emotions. The way we handle the reapers handiwork is entirely individualistic

Everyone suffers and mourns the loss of a good soul to the reaper but as we mourn this loss, singing praises on the good soul that was taken away, there is a definite sympathy that goes out to the family's loss. The assurances come from family we hardly know, from friends we have hardly met. The words should be comforting, although they are mostly not and some people even have the expectations to make you feel ecstatic. There are people who walk up to you and tell you "to take some courage". I had one ringing thought, "is it selling in the market, how much does it go for nowadays?" 

The gruesome experience of the hospitals as we wait only for the inevitable is probably the most traumatic experience. There is a long wait in the lobbies and sleeping wards. The air is so gloomy and thick all mirth disappears instantly. The plain walls and the clean sheets makes you think, the deeper thoughts only dwelling on the inevitable pain and suffering. As there are other people who make it out of a hospital alive, it gives us a little hope. We find friends in the hospitals, sometimes in the lobbies and sometimes in the sleeping wards, people who are going through the same trauma as we are. There is a definite exchange of diseases and  doctors treatments, then comes the banter on some radical new therapy you read on the internet. It just goes to say further, the reapers handiwork is something no one wishes to discuss. The optimistic views are our solace. The dreaded words of the doctor, "please say your last goodbyes" or "I think its time you informed others in the family". The phrases so clichéd and a doctors best defence against his emotions are a nightmare for the people who hear it.

Death gives me an understanding of life and the realization of the triviality of it;. the inevitable end to every life and the passage thereon. Accepting death as a final guest of life is hard, the emotions swell up and you are never ready for the losses. We will miss them and their company, perhaps the only solace we can take is that they are in a better place and their soul rests in peace.

Real Progress

There is a fractal calculation for satisfaction and progress. In the geometric terms satisfaction would be sustained within the fractals and bound by a desire of fulfillment, progress would be beyond the fractals in a grey area of dissatisfaction and a move towards remediating it.

Real progress only stems from the trade between a desire to achieve and a desire for happiness. The phenomenon is quite a surprise, as we tend to achieve more we are seeking to further our achievements. The satisfaction we derive is only by furthering our achievements. Our goals tend to be never ending and our drive for satisfying this urge takes us beyond capacities we never imagined. If we were only to be satisfied with one goal and stopped after achieving it, the world might be a happier place but would definitely be the duller for it.

From the times of Da Vinci and Franklin to Einstein and Bardeen. These were individuals who were not satisfied with their surroundings and wanted to change them. They were not happy at the way things worked and sought to improve on them. These individuals had knowledge which they gained from various sources and used them to garner real progress for the human kind. They were people who transgressed science, art and philosophy to achieve things which most of the people during their only laughed at.

In the name of real progress we see a lot of inadvertent skulduggery. The many shenanigans people try to pull off and the way people tout to mark progress makes me vile and sometimes take a hit where it hurts the most. As I advent on my journey of discoveries and propositions I only hope to have the broad view and the great skills of observation and analysis these giants in history possessed.

Friendships

Among the friends we choose we always make a distinction to find the ones with similar interests. We have a strong tendency to bond to other individuals. Why do we do this, and how do we pick out the best of our friends? Is there some magic formula, a common thread that binds us? Are all our friends genetically linked. Is there a science to making friends?

Well of course I am in no position to answer that, but I do observe a very strong pattern and can classify them into two broad categories support and occupational. There are a few of our friends who support us, who are the source of our strength, whom we confide our darkest secrets and desires to. There are the "other guys", the occupational friends, whom we have a working relationship with. As time has passed by and as many things have transgressed over the years the apparent fact is that the importance we give to each of these types of friends differs. I have seen among my own group of friends when sometimes they make out time to come and chat with the "gang" and at other times just plain ignore the invites and search for greener pastures.

My choice among friends has not been based on availability or support, a strong sense of community or fraternity. I am confounded at my own choices in friends. The various strong willed creatures who make up my social circle and entertain me at times and annoy at some others are my prized acquaintances. Some I have met over tea or lunch, others in college, others at social gatherings.This unique set and subset of my social endeavors are incomprehensible as a selection to me. 

As I share a deep bond with my friends and form a kinship with them I see my own new community and family emerge. The source of my strengths and probably my greatest weaknesses. I do not share any genes with  these strangers, yet some are my brothers and sisters, my aunts and uncles. This tendency perplexes my curiosity and only fascinates me further to delve and understand the thinking behind such behavior.

The alter ego

As I write this blog I clearly see my alter ego come alive. The murkiness and gloom that surrounds me seems to wither away as words take shape. The happiness and mirth are a little less joyous and have an undertone of sarcasm. As I write I see myself as another person, a person telling a tale. As I write, I read, in the eye of an espoused reader.

The magical fascination of the alter ego crosses the divine path of the sub-conscious to gather strength in the reality of an unreal world. As I describe,  my alter ego invites a fascination to the many subtleties that  make up the imaginary. As I read my posts I see the writer emerge to discuss philosophies and the train of thought. There are corrections made and small pauses as I think to write. The train of thought deviates only to emerge again stronger than ever.

As we all struggle to make decisions in life so does my writing, it takes many forms. The simple to the subtle, the sarcastic to humorous, many a times merging the many tastes. My alter ego evolves to find its footing and explore the exquisite beauty of writing in a known language. There are simplistic and straight-forward expressions with no hinted metaphors or sarcasm, and there are times I am talking in a cryptic language feigning an appearance I don't wish to reveal to the untrained eye.

There is a certain pleasure I derive from writing, a warm feeling if you wish. The travails of my life and thought may not be interesting or even worth chronicling to any other person. The alter ego emerges only to deviate myself from this train of thought and give way to the whimsical and contemplative writer in me.      

The alter ego is taking shape.

Food over Theater

This post is from an email I received from Ram, all credit goes to the original writer.

Our chief entertainment correspondent just sent me a message saying 3 idiots has grossed Rs.175 crores ! A movie with an investment of Rs 50 crores makes this amount in just two weeks? Fantastic, I am very happy for Amir, Rajkumar Hirani and Vidhu Vinod Chopra, who I think have worked very hard over several years and continue to take their work very seriously. Now the new controversy generated by Chetan Bhagat will help them to even further attract audience attention to their latest 'product'. But suddenly one question ( which a lot of people may find totally unrelated but I still want to raise it) that hits me is, why does urban India that spends Rs 175 crores on one film in two weeks at an average of Rs 300 per ticket, complaining so much about inflation and specially high prices of food grains? If we are so happy paying Rs 300 for a single movie-ticket, why complain so much about paying Rs 40 for a kilo of sugar?

I must make it clear that I am a firm believer in free market and open economy and I don't want to blame the entertainment industry for some of the questions that I am going to raise or the sad situation that I am going to portray in this piece. Yet I just hope to point out to the readers some of the idiosyncrasies of today's consumer-centric and market-driven economy in urban India that nobody seems to be talking about.

Fifteen years ago when I used to ride a motorbike and watch over ten movies a month, a litre of petrol for my bike used to cost Rs 17 and the movie ticket was Rs 20. Today I drive a car and watch maybe two movies a  month in multiplexes: the fuel cost has gone up about three times to about Rs 50 a litre and the movie ticket is Rs 250-Rs 300, that's over twelve times! And nobody seems to be complaining!

The middle and higher middle class of India which is now over Rs 25 crore seems to be spending on entertainment like never before which is great, I have no problem, my only issue is the same middle class wants to put pressure on the government thru media and opposition political parties to control the prices of food products, why? Do we have our priorities right? A friend of mine who works in rural areas on farmers issues asks "why do Mumbai consumers complain so much when the price of milk goes up from Rs26 to Rs28 rupees a liter, if they don't mind paying Rs 12 for a bottle of water", I have no answer. If packaged water gets sold in Mumbai for Rs 12, shouldn't milk be at least three times that price?

Another friend of mine told me an interesting story. A corporate czar based in Mumbai a couple of years ago it seems gave a presentation to his 'senior management team' about future investments. He kept showing a 'priority chart' on his presentation screen, where various sectors were shown from top priority to bottom priority. At the top of the chart was entertainment and media (not real estate!) and at the bottom was agriculture! If that was (and maybe still is) the corporate mindset in urban India, one can imagine what the future of food production will be. Are we going to replace food with movies in the future?

Today agriculture continues to be the most ignored and underestimated sector in this country. We seem to be taking food security for granted.But that may change very fast. We may see a lot of more farmers quitting farming and moving to jobs in cities.We may see a lot of agricultural land being converted to SEZs or industrial / residential land and that will lead to a major drop in food production. The government at central level has now started reacting to this trend and doing a few things to ensure that the farmer gets a better price and agriculture can become a sustainable profession but that may be too little coming too late. The science of agro-economy in India is too complex and I am neither an expert nor do I have the space and time to right now to go into all the analysis and answers to many problems the agro sector faces but one of the big problems experts tell me is the reluctance of the consumers to accept and pay a realistic price for agro produce.

Whenever there is price rise, it becomes a political issue and government steps in to ensure prices don't go up beyond a point (and the farmer remains poor). Obviously the solutions are not easy and the chain of traders and middlemen make things even more complicated. But some mindset change is surely needed to ensure we either set our priorities right to solve the problem to atleast some extent or pay a heavy price in the future. The last thing we want to see is farmers quitting agriculture to become junior artistes in Bollywood!

The Beach

There is a quite turpitude as I move my foot towards the beach. It is not because I am harping on some mischief or some other vague notion of self-indulgence. The waves touch my feet and run back leaving wet sand piled up in the webbings. A surreal feeling, and enhanced sense of pleasure is only bettered by the rushing sound of the sea. I would give away many moments to relive one of these.

The beaches across India are treasured, a place of divine natural beauty and the calm sea. The sand is soft and very fine with a quality comparable to a 1957 chateau. The remarkable serenity in the beach puts my mind at ease and gives me a definite answer. The waves are crashing on the shore day on day, throughout the year, incessantly. The sea tells me come back again and I shall still be here hitting the shore gently and pulling away.

The beauty of floating in the beach submerged in water letting the waves carry you, not bothering to do anything but read and eat. I take some time out to play for a while and get back to the sea. As the sea envelops me I am myself again. The searing sun does not hurt me anymore, the salt and sand make for a heady mix.

A blissful lunch and I spread myself under the shade of a coconut tree listening to nothing but the wind. A few hours go by and I am still under the coconut tree, the azure sky taunting me, I close my eyes again. As the evening comes a small campfire and a violin makes the cold wind warm and romantic. The serenading songs are enough to tickle my wanderlust, out with the torches in hopes of catching the nightfall in the rocks above. In a few moments darkness envelops the sea and turns her hostile. The lighthouse far out throws a beam for the boats and ships. I move in for a game of carrom and some scrumptious dinner. The reggae music in the background can only life the spirits and transcend heaven and earth.

This account of "paradise" only brings back memories and nostalgia.

Growing Up

On growing up, in many ways we only grow old and never grow up. There are times of clarity and transcending thoughts which makes me realize the time I have spent. The magical moments are lost on the mirth and generally remind me of the good times. My first fight, the first time I rode my bicycle, my first crush. Among the things I cherish are these memories, they come back to haunt you and tell you of the days you have left behind. The people you have left behind in this arduous journey of life.

As I have grown up I have become more independent, more responsible and more mature. at least the convention warrants it. The joys of my childhood are not lost on me and many of my friends can vouch for this. Growing up for me has meant being more like a kid, I am more possessive, I hate losing more than ever, I crib and play pranks and still enjoy the general innocence people bring with them. In essence I am more a kid now than I was when I was a kid.

The iota of independence and freedom growing up brings is the a breeze of fresh air, and I am using the term breeze because it lasts only so long. The sense of pseudo independence fast withers away to bring the gloom of financial planning and careful career considerations. A multitude of things to deal with, a first taste of office politics, tax that bites your wallets and almost certainly an annoying boss. These are some of the many firsts I would rather not have experienced. At least not till I had grey hair or no hair and traveled the world extensively.

Among all the agony and pain growing up brings I can only remember this famous quote " growing old is inevitable but growing up is optional". Hear Hear

Organized clutter

The moment you step into my room you will see a lot of things strewn across. The main ingredients are unwashed laundry and parchments of lesser significance. A few books I am currently coursing through, a bunch of CDs and storage devices. As the new year marched in I thought of cleaning it up and getting organized, lest  the potential visitors be put to shame over the shabby living conditions of a well to do software engineer.

As I rummaged through my CDs to put together I happened to chance on a collection og Dylan songs. The urge to listen to some Dylan was of course irresistible and I decided to put off my spring cleaning for a while. A few minutes later I picked up my first Freud lying perilously on the edge ready to tumble down at the slightest touch.

The magic of procrastination got the better of me and I totally forgot about cleaning up my desk. The laundry had been thankfully picked by mum for washing. My maid even makes a point of not touching anything in room when she comes into clean. After a while mum picked up most of the stuff on my desk and put them away in drawers. I am guessing she was fed up of the eyesore my room had grown into, she generally dislikes my maintenance and upkeep policies.

Well I had stepped out for a while to cater to my wandering mind and the long holidays. After coming back from a stroll looking at my room I figured out I had a lesson in cleanliness coming my way. Well there was only one problem now, I didn't know where everything was put away. It might have been a good fifteen minutes before I found my Ipod stacked away in my drawer. The book I was currently reading was at the bottom of the pile and I still haven't found the Floyd disc. The lesson in all this, clean your room before you mum does, it takes 15 minutes anyways. I figure it is much better than losing things among the organized clutter.