Friday, February 22, 2008

La Femme

The small, pretty hand with delicate fingers and manicured nails carefully painted maroon and dried carefully, rose upwards and slowly ran through the open black hair with a brownish tinge which fell till below her shoulder blades. She was doing this very often and I was trying my best to sneak glances at her with a "I don't care look" without seeming obtrusive or creepy.
We were both attending a lecture somewhere. We were both listening intently. Wearing a maroon colored kurta (very traditional yet very chic!) ending a little short of her knees, with a matching multani mitti colored loose salwar and dupatta to go with it, she carried it to Perfection. :P The word seems overused now that I have actually seen perfection.
She leans forward, straightens her dupatta and leans back again. She has ballet style maroon flat shoes which have a traditional feel. She takes out her feet from them for a minute. Ohh..dear God!! I fell in love with her feet. Very smooth, just like the rest of her skin. Pedicured feet with nails painted identical to the ones on her hands. Petite, delicate and stunning, I think I could look at them forever. Not to happen though, she puts them back in. However, my eyes keep reverting back to her feet again for a glimpse. It's so much easier to glance at her feet rather than turning towards her face all the time. Everything about her is mesmerizing and and her feet just reflect her stunning beauty.
Her beautiful hands move down towards her lap where she has a a book placed on top of a brown shoulder bag which matches completely with her attire. Even the book seems perfectly suitable to its immediate surroundings. I guess she could have done no wrong. Those eyes full of concentration listening to a lecture - eyes of a journalist analyzing everything word spoken. Those thin, perfectly formed lips which curve slightly at the ends sometimes to give the most enigmatic smile ever. I just can't have enough of her. I realize I can't just watch her go after the lecture. I have to do something. I try to keep my throat from becoming dry. Trying painfully hard to be COOL. Be composed and try and take any opportunity that presents itself. I rack my brains hard and fast to come up with a line, a saying, an opening - anything to talk to her. The bloody damned slow brain seems to be working slower than usual, in fact- not at all. It's also trying to concentrate on the lecture. Now, what the hell is that. Here I am with a surreal, exotic woman trying to come up with an intellectual remark that could spark off a meaningful conversation and all that my brain seems to be doing is listening to the lecture. The time was running out. She seemed fidgety. Packing her book in the bag, she looks ready to leave. I have to do something. This was not acceptable. Sure, you get to see plenty of stunning faces in MoodI, but she was something special. It would have been really sad to see her go without even talking to her. But my mind had refused to come with up with something. I know I am not an expert at making relationships out of thin air but I am not that bad at starting a conversation. This was pathetic. Never had I been so painfully aware of my inability to conjure up a line beginning a conversation. Every second seemed like eternity and the way she moved, seemed like she was going to out of there any moment now.
Well, it was good fortune that I was listening to the lecture because the opening was provided by the lecture. Some guy, heaven bless him, asked a question which brought out a similar reaction from us out loud. A one of exasperation!! My heart skipped a beat. There was my opening!! She said something to herself out aloud and I pitched in with some comment. We both started talking about it at the same time. I hoped she was unable to hear my heart beating, the exhilaration that was causing a celebration loud enough to drown out a World Cup goal. We seemed to making too much noise and were hushed up by the guys surrounding us. What the hell- I thought to myself. She said that let's talk later after the lecture. Yeah baby!! The 15 minutes after the lecture saw me trying to be at my intellectual best so that I don't seem like a jerk in front of her. I am proud to say that I held on quite well though most of my thoughts were directly stolen from Mr. Ramachandra Guha- I owe you one, Big guy- when he was kind enough to enlighten us on one of his book publicity tours at IIM Ahmedabad. She left as she had entered-quickly and gracefully- like an ethereal dream. I had a session with her again an hour later, a meeting to remember.
And the same night, a heartbreak that I haven't still gotten over yet.

Monday, February 18, 2008


Why do my parents accept everything about me? Why don't they scold me or slap me when I behave rudely, when I argue loudly, when I sulk and take out my irritation on them, when I trouble them about every small problem that I have even though I am old enough to argue that I should be allowed to make my own decisions regarding sex, alcohol, smoking et al?
Why do I always complain about them having too much expectations from me and burdening me with their ambitions? Why do I complain when they make certain decisions about my life that I feel I should have the right to decide?
Don't they have the right to do so? Aren't they allowed to keep even a certain amount of control or have a right on us. What do they feel when they are shouted upon by something(one) they took care of since the time it (he/she) had no friggin idea about the world it had come into?
Is it so unjustified on their part to have some expectations from us when they put in a lifetime in making us what we are today? I mean we have expectations from a program (I am a programmer :D ) after we have spent 2 hours on it with a clear objective in mind. They spend two decades of their life (more for others) and they aren't supposed to have even the slightest hope of how it turns out. They sacrifice their ambitions, dreams and desires; instead they turn us into all their aspirations but we feel extraordinarily burdened by their goals that they wish we should achieve.

I am fed like I have returned from a POW camp whenever I go home. The first missed call on my cell is of theirs when I am being bashed up by my friends on my birthday. All my calls end with " lots of love". What have I done to actually deserve this?? Am I still doing something to actually reciprocate it?
Am I grateful for what they have done for me so far? Am I ungrateful or just another person in this world? Maybe my parents are like that towards their parents. Is it a cycle of thanklessness that is continuing that more knowledgeable people term as 'nature's law' and it happens in all species (almost) of the world? I don't know and I don't care. I question my identity, my existence. The quotes "I think therefore I am" or "I am therefore I think" become meaningless. I would not have been and not been able to think. I would not have been such a mentally functioning person to feel that I have outgrown my dependence on them or think about writing this blog..

Saturday, February 16, 2008

I have no idea!!

As the title vaguely gives a hint(duh!) , I have no idea what to write or do with my blog. In-fact come to think of it, I have no clue as to why I am even attempting this in the first place. I guess it's just because of my innate and eternal desire to try out everything that is happening around me. It has been there for as long as I remember- for the times that I don't remember I think I must have noticed enough for my incessant crying and wailing( I was a pain in the ass then, even now I guess :D)
So instead of tiring and boring you (jobless people) with my attempts at being interesting, funny and suave leading to the post being rubbish and crap (if it isn't already), I will put in a very interesting piece of derivation that I found recently. It is original to say the least.


The following is an actual question given on a
University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The
answer by one student was so "profound" that the
professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet,
which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of
enjoying it as well.

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or
endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs
using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats
when it is compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is
changing in time.
So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving
into Hell and t he rate at which they are leaving. I
think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets
to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are

As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at
the different religions that exist in the world today.
Most of these religions state that if you are not a
member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since
there is more than one of these religions and since
people do not belong to more than one religion, we can
project that all souls go to Hell.

With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect
the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.
Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in
Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the
temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the
volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls
are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate
at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and
pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the
increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and
pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa
during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day
in Hell before I sleep with you, and take into account
the fact that I slept with her last night, then number
two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is
exothermic and has already frozen over.
The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has
frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any
more souls and is therefore, extinct...leaving only
Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine being
which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting
"Oh my God."


I am sure this was a fantastic read. Maybe I will write again once I think of something to write on (it's tough) or I come across a piece as interesting as this one :D