Tuesday, November 29, 2016

A Worrisome Morn

This organism was awake much before dawn. It was chilly when that happened, which pushed him back into sleep, which ended after a lengthy battle with the morning alarm. It was still chilly when the reawakening happened. Since there was no time to be wasted, the organism "rose" to the challenge to find some time to waste. Then when the wasted time had been impressively wasted, some agency dragged the organism out, with the daybreak about to commence.

The initial understanding was to do a graveyard run. My organism was directed there upon stepping out, making it all the way to join the roadhead. However, seeing that it was already past 6, a return no sooner than 8 was forecasted, and thus the idea was switched for a shorter one - the JMB loop, which forecasted an earlier return. Why the return time was important was, because baby bro needed assist during his exit to office, and that exit also meant somebody had to be around, with me being the only other occupant of the house presently - hope it's understandable.

In a coupla minutes, I was at the Parao. Then came the odd news through HD (who mans a teashop in the early hours of the day ), that Lalu Prasad was missing. LP, in this context, is my favorite village mutt, who I tend to write about and interact with - maximally, of all canines - in the days out here. As per HD, he hadn't shown up since the day before. "Lagta hai bagh le gaya usko," ("seems that he's fallen prey to a leopard") HD had figured. It induced serious guilt, as t'was with me that he had hiked up through the forests the day before, an equation between man and canine that was cut short halfway when a pack of dogs came in from the other side, to scare the mutt away (as noted here ). Couldn't believe that he hadn't returned since. Wishing HD a nice day, I proceeded onwards with a perturbed mind.

Then the run happened - things that feel horrible when at it, but amazing afterwards. I still clock ~15 minutes for the ~3km stretch from Parao to JMB. As noted a minute into the run, it took me another 14mins to get there, which included a coupla breaks for photos and connecting my earphones. That I'd made it to the summit before the sun could show up was credible enough for my day, which had started in a lackluster manner. The mountain edges were layered with distinct colors of the spectrum. Then came out the sun, a small orange-pink blob for a brief moment feigning the appearance of the upper lip, which had me wishing I had a coupla lips to bite at that moment which felt so grand and romantic.

Then the walk back - with a rock in hands, to work out some upper. These coupla times that I've tried it, I have felt stupid for not doing it earlier. Any natural weight is a versatile thing. There are many motions and lifts to be done, and several muscle sets (esp smaller muscles) to be worked in isolation. As a wannabe-climber, I was impressed by how a lump of nothing gave so many holds to practice by the way of arrangement of fingers around it, making it worth something. It was planned to carry the rock all the way home, and paint a smiley face on it, and keep it forever, but alas, a fall on the floor, and it came apart in wafers (typical of the lithos this side).

Through the run, I had a new song on repeat - Miike Snow's "Genghis Khan", which talks of a strange (noncommitted?) equation between two people, still possessive of each other after they chose to keep distances.
I get a little bit Genghis Khan
I don't want you to get it on
With nobody else but me
These lines make for a catchy chorus.
And this video tops it too..

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Summing Up Today

Today was an inverted one.. lived by the morning, and death practise (ie sleep) much through the day. First ensued an insomniac's night, swinging in and out of scattered thoughts; then a hasty 30km drive to fetch bro in the pre-dawn hours; then nearly 3-hours in the outdoors for a workout, priming my organism to privations of the future; then watering the lawn, fourth day of trying to figure out how to grow a nice one; then a breakfast; and since then.. restlessness which gave way to sleepiness which turned to sleep which recently concluded. As the organism stirred into agency, Bro called with something stupendous to tell - that he had just sighted a leopard on his way back from the office. Thoughts then meandered into the wild (indoors cannot take the outdoors out of context). Now they get a break, to focus inwards, and be upto this.

Most to detail on is the morning workout - the route ended being longer than I'd conceived while leaving out, and so the experiences numbered more, as did the thoughts that came while experiencing (also dissociating). I'd walked out for just a hike up to AluK, as it was already past 7AM (the time by which I should be on the way back, since the sun is no fun so long after a sunrise).

It was probably the village mutts that joined me up that induced the feeling to go further - it felt like taking kids out, showing them around, pointing out alarm, the synchronised cycle of going ahead and falling back which kept them vacillating between the feeling of cautious discovery and comfortable self-absorption. They were considerate enough to reciprocate, coming along without questioning - only when a pack of noisy dogs came running their way shortly before the 'Toota Pahar' shortly before Nainital, did they beat a retreat. My fave mutt, B, is such a curious soul, that having him walking ahead is always exciting, his body language - alarmed and anticipative - hinting to have sensed an interloper ahead that is still not seen by a regular human being.

Friday, November 25, 2016

Persistent British Animator Dude

Started this morning catching up with the animation scene - a wide overlook mainly to tell what next to watch. In the drift, I found an old note, bearing a film title "Prologue". On my (most recent) birthday, I had watched the 2015 Oscar-nominated animation shorts, and the intriguing ones were noted for recollection. Though I didn't remember a specific short by name, it remained stuck in the head because of its brilliant animation style, the visuals being a treat + inspiration juice (having chosen nature drawing as a subject of pursuit only a coupla weeks back).  With great hope, I keyed in the name, and bull's eye! - found that short.

The Prologue (2015) - a "brutal battle between Spartan and Athenian warriors" - is a one-man-project, that man being Richard Williams. The short is actually a sequence from an unfinished longer project (adaptation of the play Lysistrata by Aristophanes). The animator Richard Williams is a veteran in the industry, and also one in unfinished projects - his most endearing project has been an adaptation of Mulla Nasreddin's folk fables, originally titled Nasrudin, which was then shelved and re-titled "The Thief and the Cobbler", which has seen the hands (and voice-overs) of many other industry veterans, which was eventually seized from Mr. Williams and forcefully released by the production house... the duration of this interesting project spans 31 years, and also has a coupla documentaries done on it.

His wiki page shows few other unfinished shorts, 8 or 9 among 17. With half things being scrapped, he mustn't have been treated well by his production house(s). But whatever he did put out, has been very creative and even path-breaking at times.

Here's somebody with their 2¢ on the animator
Richard Williams (the director/solo animator) is one of the greatest animators of this or any time, and he's a very astute observer of human motion. I've seen a fair amount of his animation, including other shorts done in this style, and while he's sometimes looked at live models for inspiration (not to my knowledge for this short, but for another he did for dancers), he's never done rotoscoping. A few years ago, at an Oscar event I attended, he showed a tiny clip of Prologue when it was still a work-in-progress, and he described that he was doing the animation based on his personal style and very meticulously over the span of several years. That kind of animation is possible for a great animator who is willing to take the amount of time Richard Williams takes, but because there are very few people at his skill level, and even fewer able to work on his timeframe, you very rarely see anything on this level. 
Persistence of Vision is a documentary on the unfinished Thief project.
The director Kevin Schreck has uploaded several related clips on his YT Channel.
There's also the Thief Archive, a related YT channel, promising hours of interesting consumption.

The Little Island - a gem of a find

Love Me Love Me Love Me - another beaut

Friday, November 11, 2016

Looking Back to a day

Armchair into PoK

Been armchair-traveling into the India that once was, now occupied by the new mulq of Pakistan. Read an article on the revival of the Wakhi music tradition in Gojal/Deosai, which revived the interest of mine in visiting it and spending time with its people someday. There is so much to do - geological features alone will induce a hard-on, and coming across good-natured feisty folks is a bonus.

About two-thirds of the song's lyrics and their own accent were decipherable.

The song turned out to be a recent one, by a young indie Chitral-based artist, Irfan Ali Taj. Here's that

Continuing on that trail, I reached to as far as Chitral, where curiosity is now hooked on the Kalash People - speaking the same tongue of native land (a mix of punjabi urdu and hindi) that (again, striking to me) is immediately comprehensible (no subtitles or translators that induce xenophobia). Theirs is a beautiful agnostic community (which doesn't endorse the major religions despite being coerced to convert for centuries), which is thinning if not preserved, and which also doesn't look for over-endorsement. I'd surely over-endorse them for their colorful culture and art that needs wider appreciation. The 'khawateen' have excelled in sustaining their culture by taking supremely creative roles, as is evident in their clothing, and their striving to live in good standards.

The belt of language that ties this region is too visible for me to speak of partisan politics based upon recently-created-shuffled nationalities.

Wednesday, November 09, 2016

Making a mark in the sky

So this happened last year - a solar-powered dirigible was tediously done by a bunch of dozen folks. I came through a trail of reading on solar energy, that started with a presentation by Elon Musk introducing the Tesla Solar, which seems a half-baked plan in its early days (more technology into a rather simple existing solution means more points of failure, and hence more frustration with things over longer period of time, plus the need for greater expertise if something goes wrong).

It now itches to build a small floating solar-powered dirigible of my own. Frustrating, because what is sold as "kids' toys" is still exciting new discovery about the world in my interactive-reactive head. It will lead to failures in other points of my existence chain, which might be perceived as more serious, or be seen as foretelling of a career cascade (if that's not what mine already qualifies for) and hence another thing to cope with.

But that thought aside, plans are already underway to visit the supermarket to get a new stash of bin bags. It will take taping together half a dozen of those, by my intuitive calculation (to be confirmed on paper later). Ideal would be to try replicate a "Pif", a french solar (or rather, hot-air-powered) dirigible akin to a kite maneuvered with both ends tied and connecting to a string connected to a spool that a lucky kid from a village will get to hold (of course, i do the maneuvering).

This would work best in the hills, which is coincidentally where I am. Imagine meself on a lovely morning atop a local summit doing this.

Wednesday, November 02, 2016

You crave for misery, but sometimes it is hard to find. The mornings start right, but the day veers away from your favorite crave-orite theme; and on the evenings all you get to do is try to keep the fragments which were right, to stitch a thread or a garland of that which poured down in the morning and was none but a thin shower through the day. Then, with the onset of dark, you wrap yourself in the garland of your making, and order a cup of ginger tea, and sit down next to the speakers listening to an old bunch pushing you into a new dimension transcending time and space - where all your past loves whizz by, and a sight or a smell or a sensation of an experience catches your attention to consume you fully, blurring the transition from the waking self to sleep.

Monday, October 31, 2016

Bhojpuri Nirguni Eargasm

Of my favorite (and among the few) imports from Bihar, is this songtrack. It was serendipitous to be traveling with a local taxi guy with a penchant for "Nirguni" tracks, compiled on a pen drive, the first of those being this one. As we rolled out of some city in Bihar each morning, amidst a panic set in because of the uncertainties and delays, this track would accompany the exit, and try to nudge in a calm.

It grew on me quickly. Being uneducated in Bhojpuri, I got the song in tiny bits. Or, rather, tiny "hits". First to hit me was the powerful vocals - distinct, melodic, almost unreal. Next to hit was the references to a "Baheliya" (bird trappers) and a "Maina" (the Indian Mynah, starling bird) - a theme that alluded to good songwriting. Slowly, more lines of the song unraveled in understanding, and by the end of the week-long visit through Bihar, I was sold on the song, frantically looking to copy the track. On being told that it belonged to a particular genre of music known as "Nirguni" I knew the song would reveal more, and it did!

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Shrushti Rahasyam

Just few minutes back I finished watching a movie, one after a long while. Shrushti Rahasyam, a Tamil movie with an outlandish creation theory concept. The movie is as entertaining as any Bollywood flicks, despite doing away with much dialog. There are so obvious themes that one can sit without thinking caps on.

The story has two central characters - Adam and Eve. There's also Judith, the forgotten part of the mythology, who was the first consort with Adam, and who later left Adam because she wanted to remain independent - which is when God (shown as a weirdly-attired coterie) created Eve, made from Adam's rib, who Adam could literally feel like owning, and did.

The movie has Adam and Eve walking around enjoying the strange and odd world in their primitive ways of interaction. Their language is just sounds. Their clothes are minimal. The snake makes them commit sin, and they are issued clothing since they have also been injected with shame and guilt over their bodies. They also unknowingly make a baby.

The movie has a Baraka-esque sequence to end with, showing how world is crowded with humans who are hoarding and consuming its resources.

Monday, October 17, 2016

Assorting outdoor stuff

58 hours later - I am back in the man cave, in home #2. AutoSanta has brought me loads of things - notably, gizmos - to indulge in, which I immediately start with after a brush and a meal. My life will be surrendered to gizmos over the coming week. That, and tapes, for now I have a sick tape collection, accumulated over September month - two kinds of duct tape, cloth tape, rubber tape, kinesio tape, electrical tape, and thin-foil tape - a month-long overzealous pursuit of tapes comes to an end, hurrah!

Christen this spirit Gizmo Baba and let him wander trying out the gizmos. The tape streak could be considered a subset of a survivalist streak, that has led to find and procuring myriad items. Latest to be tried out were a coupla headlamps - a BD and a V. Shortly before, a coupla multitools, both very zeitgeisty - the GD and the LM. And before those, the porta-speakers. Then the last week a coupla survival whistles, a space blanket, flourescent paracord, a chainsaw, dry bags, and a coupla buffs. Assortement is the name of the game, or so it seems.

Soon I shall burden myself with reviewing things formally. Distractions overboard!

Saturday, October 15, 2016

polygamy me not

More Americans approve of suicide than polygamy. That is a curious fact, curious for the high support for polygamy, that is. Who would think on these lines to the point of agreeing? I dunno, maybe people who realize it isn't what they will ever do, but surely see others doing/acting upon - like a silly sexual fantasy.

For one, there are too many people involved. Even a mutuality - ie two people legally joined (state which is called being married) - is hectic. To add more will distort / average down the nature of any internal relationship. Does one enter polygamy through monogamy, or is there an option to straightaway get into a polygamous arrangement?

Second, that polygamy will hole its participants. They will have a polygamous family to take care of, and all their resources will be focused towards it. How is everybody to contribute equally in such an arrangement? Do marital unions eventually evolve into packs, that think and act much for their behalf?

Another one, that what kind of polygamy should be in permissible? - men and many women, or woman and many men, or a mix men and women? Can one enter a men-only (or woman-only) polygamy? Is bisexuality recognized as such in a polygamy? How will parentage be determined, in the case multiple men are part?

A marriage of two sometimes ends up in a mess. A marriage of many will end up more so. The laws of separation will need an elaborate discussion. If one separates do all separate? Can a person stay legally joined with half but divorced from the other half of her polygamous group? What about alimony? What about custodianship of children?

And if it does come about, what will happen to the low-status wo/men who already have a hard time finding a partner? The best hoard partners while the lesser enter dejection and resort to destructive nihilistic negating acts?

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Slow surge of conscious

to lie
to hide
to deny
to show kinship with the inanimate.

to leap
to shout
to shake
to show what you take to break.

to like what you get
to love what you find
to sink in the quicksand of time
to crawl out a creature benign
to hold a goblet of fine wine
to put it against the lips and feel divine
to recall the days when thee were thine.

O' H

We could only meet shortly, but I hope the roads will take me back to you again. The little I came to know about you made me want to know you more. Your multi-dimensionality will be my itch for a while - the images of natural world that abounds in you, as well as that of soldiers walking with mine detectors, both facets will stick fast.

Monday, October 10, 2016


The way she moves, makes my body quiver with delight and frenzy. The muse, the lover, the artist, the mother. The strands of her hair glisten in the wind, and dance aflutter, pulling me deeper into herself. The sun kisses her cheeks and imparts them a golden tinge, and the rays bounce over her skin to deflect some radiance on me, the cursed one, also ironically the lucky one. Her thoughts I can read, the goosebumps on her skin I can feel; they are a bigger intoxication than anything that will come to follow in the day.
Her visage I can trace in fine detail on this morning. Her essence I try to understand better. Her calm and her rage, both can be felt in palpable terms now that I am closer to her than ever before.

She sways to the breeze from the east,
she talks to the clouds crowding in the sky awestruck,
she teases each tree around,
she glances over me briefly
and I live the delusion that everything is found.

Saturday, October 01, 2016

Her Alchemy

The way she lies,
the way she denies,
its celestially perfect -
like made with the suns.

Her breath that snakes
over my skin,
and settles like a snowflake,
cold and melting -
like a May at Rohtang.

A feeling that hits once
and lingers forever.
A glimmer that shines once
and erases never.
A consecration to the mortals,
a curse to the divine -
once you leave empty
only then you find.

Friday, September 30, 2016

A sweet run-hike

I got out so early that not even the daylight had scattered well. Usually it's not so - I wait for a brighter morning, and when the bright is just right, I set out.

Today was done by a run. The run was done in a hangover after being pushed away by a (now-)former love. Least said, the run overpowered everything else. It was the longest I have done around these hills. All the way the hamlet of Birbhatti, which lies below the town of Nainital (on the same hill). The surroundings filled with sun while I got tired. A beautiful black-tailed puss welcomed me at the terminal point of my run. Thereafter, I climbed up, on the tiny village often eyed while navigating on Maps.

The climb, or the hike, was a stimulating experience. Making my debut on this stretch of road, I made my way up in observation. Hiking up, the valley prospered with village homes and school compounds to the left, while to the right it dropped into the gorge made by the stream originating from Naini lake. This piece of hill which I was on is generally seen by one on the hike from Gethia to Nainital, after cresting at Alukhet - a "there is now here" moment. The Alukhet hill forms a barrier of sorts, closing this valley from the very early morning sun; the sun needs to travel farther up (or look over another hill) before it starts direct-lighting these establishments.

This part of the Nainital hill has enjoyed some open patches of land, maybe due to geography or as a result of being a part of the original approach to the town of Nainital (there were days when the Ekka, or horse-driven carriages used to climb up the last stretch from Jeolikote to Nainital via here) which has been a summer escape for the British since 1850s. Now those large patches function as stadia or grounds for Saraswati Vihar and Govt. Intermediate College (hat tip to Wikimapia).

The climb up got a bit excrutiating at places. I was trying to leave my state of mind, and climb harder all the time. Sometimes I faltered and transitioned into inner monologues; like the time when Radiohead's Daydreaming started playing. The rising sun mixed with the clouds sometimes got me emotive, too, taking over the  vocals from whatever was playing. I was playing the game of "life conjectures" for the way up - left me distressed. Occasionally I ran into interesting things or facts, which brought my inwards gaze out again - like the geospatial confirmation of my location; a shaggy black Bhotia dog that surprised me and to which I foolishly went close to say "hello nice doggy"; a dog with a black forehead mark shortly before reaching the terminus of the village road, and the strange character of the village road populated thinly by boys on motorbikes and old regulars.

My exit was next to the Inter College gates. The hike path flares into tiny lanes all of which generally seemed to bring one out onto the main road. Tiredness (of and from exploration) had established a new benchmark of sorts. The climb was over. Another 45 minutes of hike down to my home base of G followed. It made for around 12 kms to start the day.

what will this do

A day at maladaptive daydreaming comes to a break. Lunch is served, and this organism will be back into itself in a short while, powered by more things from this earth.

Thursday, September 01, 2016

Gender Roles across Evolution

As animals, we share the codified sexual dimorphism, which evolved for reproductive advantage. Consequently, our males are bigger than our females. What this helps in, is sexual coercion - males display harassment, intimidation, grasping, and even infanticide - to get the desired females. Males attempt to maximize their offspring; females try to minimize the same (as they invest heavily in childbearing).
A possible explanation for aggressive behaviors in primates is that it is a way for males to train females to be afraid of them and be more likely to surrender to future sexual advances.
Species where the males tend to be larger than females, exhibit promiscuity. Ones where the females tend to be larger, exhibit monogamy.

As humans, we have differentiated from other species, by a rather unique adaptation - of letting go of all adaptations. Our bodies are colorless, featureless, defenceless. Other species invest a lot in their features, but not us.

Being the intelligent species, we endorsed minimalism. If there were a God person in existence, then an imagined conversation would be such
"Do you need horns?"
"How about some crazy colors?"
"Hey try this new glandular excretion to ward predators"
"How about a tail?"
"What is wrong with you?!"
"I can't invest so much energy on individual features. I got brains, I'll figure out ways to stay minimal, or at least externalize the features."
"Huh, I wonder how far you'll go"

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Stoa Naini

I ran into a fellow stoic today, after the actual (literal) run got over. It was around noon (shortly past). Both of us got talking, lingering around the official pavilion looking for our collectibles.
That I call myself a stoic is a new fact from a new discovery, the subject of stoicism - an interest in Chryssipus being the seed into a weekend's segue into some finer elements of existence. What is "existence"? I can't exactly tell, but it could be themed on what a particular breed of people, labeled the "stoics" have conjectured/argued for the past coupla millenia. That I agree to those arguments and subsequent conditioning of the psyche arising thereforth, makes me believe I could be inducted as one. And to give a fresh example, was of the one met earlier today. We got to speak little, but I believe from - my honed powers of introjection - he was a good example. Hope I'm not seeing everyone in the same image as myself.

As a stoic, information dispersal should be more liberal. Initiation ritual complete.
Here is one: one of my passwords is OguiseppeY1

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Report: A Debut Outing with Godiva

Some things happening after a long, long while
- burning a day's worth of calories
- hearing the line "we should take a break"
The latter left me with little tangible thought. The former, however, has plenty of forthright data to put out.

The abovementioned calorie-crunching event happened on a morning. I was up early, ready sans the usual drag-down that happens in the early minutes of waking, had the bike prepped for a ride (air: check, tools: check, rear and front lights: check), and beat the other anxieties of life (the rest of life is an anxiety in its entirety, tho). 'Twas the debut ride for me and Godiva since having moved up here - though she has been here earlier, in the spring of 2012, but that was a long time back.

The sun had not yet started to peek through the mountains when I set out. But the village tea shop was up and running, which reminded that I could've been out 15 minutes earlier. Regardless, pedals got into motion. I was soon too lost in the experience, to feel concerned about those 15 lost minutes. The direction taken was North, one towards Bhowali. A coupla km before Bhowali comes a fork that climbs to Nainital. My plan was to hit Nainital via this route, then come down a new shortcut. It would've totaled to around 25km, which is reasonable to start with.

The rush of being on my favorite mode of displacement in my favorite part of the world was overwhelming. A glee made its way through my heart and to my face in the first coupla km, which is a satisfying downhill from Gethia to Khupi to Murdaghat, where onwards it climbs and climbs, to Bhumiyadhar to the fork to Nainital. It felt a bit irresponsible, but the first few minutes were speed unleashed, like a madman breaking free - the wind spoke hypnotic things in my ears and I wanted to hear more. To complement the wind, was the scenery, and to add to it was the detail I could pick which was thanks to being on a bike. On no other mode of motion can one pick up as much - to see the rising sun, to study the detail in the skies, to sample either side of the road, and to sample the relief of the road itself.

The uphill started, and in a while I was rediscovering the definition of perseverance. So long had it lain dormant in the hearth of my organism that I had forgot about it altogether. But here, it was a demand, to meet the challenge of the uphill. And so it happened, that I started persevering in a tangible way - one rev after the other. Funny, that outdoors is the only place where I assent to persevering; in the regular churn of the world I fail miserably/refuse to show any such qualities that contribute professionally or academically. Bhumiyadhar came. Then came the fork. Then came Nainital. I had made it there by 0640, about an hour's time, which is okay for a debut effort of ~15kmph. I could've been cycling for hours, or so it felt.

Having clocked a decent average to reach Nainital, I felt confident to take up the challenge of the new shortcut. However, consulting an elderly and a coupla boys hanging about, I learnt that the shortcut was a foot trail, that was too steep for a bicycle. The boys suggested I take the proper road down to Jeolikote, and climb back home from there. "That'd be too much," I expressed my hesitation, being tired. "Extend your adventure today," was their reply, egging me on. Since the road to J was all downhill, and it would translate to a mere 2-3km extra uphill cycling to reach back home, I coerced.

The adventure was extended, and I was found zipping down the beautiful Naini - Jeoli road, which was once considered the best-aligned hill road. The mountain scenes of this side are much new to me, and both me and Godiva enjoyed it together. It was still early, so traffic was negligible, which translated to a fantastic experience, and some amused Langurs by the roadside.

Tragedy struck shortly ahead of Patwadangar. Something in the bike didn't feel right. And on a lonely stretch, a lound noise and hiss came from the rear end of the bike. I looked down and found the tube had unraveled. In panic I braked and came to a stop. "I'm fucked for the morning," I said to myself. This was the farthest I could be from my home. And the auto-bragging about not having carried any money seemed the most foolish decision in retrospect. "How will I do 15+km carrying her," I thought. Depression started to take over.

Luckily, the tube wasn't bust. It hadn't unraveled at all. The bike was intact.
It was the spare tube that had come out from the saddle bag, slowly over the bumpy sections of the past few kms. Popping out, it had got stuck in the chain, that had me fearing the worst (unimaginably so). Picking up the tube, I could see that the bike was in fine shape. Whew! Then, I realized that the saddle bag was missing the toolkit. Depression was back, "Allo! Ya missed me, did ya?!"

The depression didn't seem easy to get over. Debut rides shouldn't end with losses of such nature. A multi-tool, though rather inexpensive equipment (compared to other cycling hardware), is important for the cyclist; and sourcing a new one would mean a wait.
I could probably backtrack my way, UPHILL, but with little hope of finding a small piece of equipment that could've so easily skid to the rain gutter at sides (since it would have momentum when it fell), or have been picked up by a curious eye if still in the middle of the road. Regardless, I started going back, uphill, eyes searching. The Langur troupe was sure amused seeing me again. As for humans, there still weren't many out yet.

This uphill seemed doubly difficult - first, I had committed in imagination to not be doing it, already feeling tired; second, it was a persistent and steep uphill, a "real" one. The conditions reminded of an earlier bike trip in trans-himalayan region. The milestones came slowly. Patwadangar, that I just flew through on the downhill, now came after considerable toil (and time) on the uphill. One gets to evaluate a stretch of road in detail on the uphills; consequentially the (mentally held) gradient map had addition in data.

What seemed the near-impossible and near-implausible, happened, shortly before the Nainital 7km milestone. Slightly off-center on the road, was some black junk, which turned to be the multi-tool. It lay in chaos, but still in a single piece. Elation followed. Perseverance worked, and it brought a WIN moment.

Having backtracked so far, it seemed foolish to go back down to J, then take to the road up (to G). 'Twas decided to continue up, hit Nainital again, and make down via the KylaK trail. Those 7km were challenge that squeezed out the last of stamina from my organism. 5k milestone onwards, I had found a distraction from the pain, and the will to give up, in counting the revs/strokes. It takes an average of 250-300 (full) revs to cover a km when uphill (in the lowest gear like 1.1-1.3). 5k reduced to 3k, and 3k to 2k to 1k to finally reaching Tallital. The remaining ride down to G was noteworthy for its challenging downhill which made me fear for the brakes - I trust my legs to get me up more than the breaks to get me down. But, a complete return was soon achieved.
Nothing broke, nothing lost.

The fatigue of the abovementioned morning was immense. To add to it, were the rashes of all shapes and sizes nature bestowed upon me - 30 that I could find visibly, and a few more in unreachable places - which is the result of the past coupla weeks of freewheeling time in the outdoors (and its undergrowth).

Thursday, August 25, 2016

complex matings 101

Bursa Copula - nice name for an online avatar. What does it mean? "sperm digestion organ"
Reading into snail reproduction (pulmonates) and its mating strategy, has been the bizzare experience of the day. At some point in the past, I had decided to make a tee explaining their lovemaking (in Limax) , but never came around to it; and since, the information has been much forgotten, reduced to its essentials of - "snails mate funny", and "everted penis must be difficult".
It becomes difficult to converse with parents when one's head is trying to grasp the mating of gastropods.

The terrestrial gastropods are mostly simultaneous hermaphrodites (monoecious i.e. containing both reproductive parts on the same organism). Their entire reproductive system is a consuming read.
A coupla interesting features, that I got to learn about:

1. bursa copulatrix

aka the common oviduct
a depression around the genital aperture of insects which receives the male organ during copulation.
a thin fan or bell-shaped expansion of the cuticle of the tail of many male nematode worms that functions as a copulatory structure

2. The Love Dart
aka the Gypsobelum
This is a chitinous (sometimes calcerous or cartiliginous) harpoon-like structure that is formed inside the reproductive tract of gastropods. It resides in the stylophore, or the dart sac. During mating, at the epic moment when the two genital openings come into contact, the dart is fired into the other. Funny, that virgin snails will never have this structure, but it grows after the first mating - that, I think, is the most obvious sign of a nonvirgin, which sadly is a feature not present in humans.

It has a very complicated function that has mystified researchers - until now, that is. Newer research has given us an understanding that the mucus of the dart contains an allohormone (a hormone-like substance) that suppress (or mitigates) the digestive function of the Bursa Copula, and hence allows a greater amount of sperm to make its way through the tract. Why do they need more sperm they can handle at a time, because this sperm can be stored for a long time (in the spermathecae), and used for fertilization later on.
If a snail can fire this successfully, the reproductive outcome is highly favored. If not, the other party has the risk of internal damage, even leading to death!

The mating dance is also an interesting read.

The genital pore (from which comes out the entire reproductive paraphernalia during reproduction) of snails is positioned on the right side of the body, very close to the head. A mating ritual has the snails stimulating regions close to each other's heads, to draw out the genital apparatus (which is a white globby mass).

Most species have a single dart, while some of the Urocyclidae family have upto 70!

In a nutshell

Yawn Yawp

Just earlier today, the topic of "yawning" came up, fawning over a friend's newborn. I had assumed that we yawn when our body needs more oxygen, for all the process running. She had agreed.

However, by the end of the day, I stumbled into a short BBC story ("Horses yawn a lot, and probably not because they are tired"), on why horses yawned so often. I didn't know that horses were proliferous yawners. It was observed that among horses, the adult males yawned more often than females or juveniles. They (researchers) concluded the following:
A horse's yawn could be triggered by testosterone, excitement, and on occasion social stress.
I associate meself with those situations. I feel like a horse now.
Stallion, indeed! 

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Tee for a Friend's Bachelors

imagine their pain
and mock it well

Koi Mil Gaya

कोई मिल गया
मेरा दिल गया
क्या बताऊँ यारों
मैं तो हिल गया

Lines 2, 3 had already been realized; and that's when I found him - I'd already given my heart and told (some) friends. But Lines 4, 1 happened today.. when I found out that we shared a great fact (or facticity, rather), that I had been feeling an isolation about, and only recently been in a conversation about.
Terrence Mitchell "Terry" Riley (/ˈrli/; born June 24, 1935) is an American composer and performing musician[2][3] associated with the minimalist school of Western classical music, of which he was a pioneer. His work is deeply influenced by both jazz and Indian classical music.
 So fecund, this guy's psyche perceives itself right now. T+50.

Indian Hot Shorts

only scratched the surface here.. much more indigenous perv lurks. have had a resurgent interest due to recent experiences - not as myself, but as the objectified gender. seems like we have all taboos addressed and somebody patient enough will find their kink, in the comfortable expanse of youtube.
wow, and how, to endorse the indian psyche!

कमसिन सेकेट्री और BOSS

बदचलन बेटी मजबूर बाप


सेक्सी चाची की चासनी

INDIAN सेक्सी हाउसवाइफ

रात भाभी का बिस्तर गिला हो गया

मदहोश किरायेदारनी

बीबी का नाजायज़ रिस्ता

गर्लफ्रेंड सेक्सी सबिता

16 की उम्र में जिस्म की चाहत || Bazaroo Aurat

जिस्म की भूख

Akeli Bhabhi Dewar Romance

सेक्सी मालकिन का गरम समान

नौकरानी की प्यास बुझा दी

Tailor Master Ka

 गावं वाली लड़की के साथ रोमान्स

Hot नेपाली भाभी

सेक्स के शौकीन HOT BHABHI ##Jism Ke Shikar

प्रेमी ने प्रेग्नेंट करके छोड़ दिया

फिल्म डायरेक्टर और हीरोइन के सम्बन्ध

16 साल की सेक्सी लड़की को AIDS हो गया


भाभी ने ननद को करते हुए पकड़ा

Balatkari Pandit

हट सबज़ वल क टग उठल

अनध हवस हवस क पयस लड़क

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Stumbled into some great music

Das ist meine neue idea fur eine playlist

Battiti del 12/08/2016

TERRY RILEY, Music For The Gift (feat. CHET BAKER), da "Music For The Gift"- Elision Fields EF105

TERRY RILEY, Poppy Nogood And The Phantom Band, da "A Rainbow In Curved Air" – CBS 64564

NATURAL INFORMATION SOCIETY & BITCHIN BAJAS, Anemometer, da "Automaginary" – Drag City DC626

THIRD EAR BAND, Ghetto Raga, da "Alchemy" – Harvest SHVL 756

AKTUALA, Alef's Dance, da "Aktuala" – Bla Bla BBL 11054

DON CHERRY & THE NEW ETERNAL RHYTHM ORCHESTRA, Humus – The Life Exploring Force, da "Actions" – Intuition INT 3606-2

CODONA (DON CHERRY/NANA VASCONCELOS/COLLIN WALCOTT), Travel By Night, da “Codona3” in "The Codona Trilogy" – Ecm 2033-35 176 7420

BROTHER AH, Boundless Rhythm, da "Move Over Onward" – Ikef Records Ikef 04

BROTHER AH, Celestial Strings, da "Move Over Onward" – Ikef Records Ikef 04

WILLIAM PARKER, Morning Mantra, da "Double Sunrise Over Neptune" – Aum Fidelity AUM047

WILLIAM PARKER/HAMID DRAKE, Black Cherry, da "First Communion+Piercing The Veil" – Aum Fidelity AUM039/40

HU VIBRATIONAL, Red Ochre Cowrie, da "Universal Mother" – Soul Jazz Records SJR CD 139

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Asking N he low f lue ight ee he creen s ellow

Basking in the glow of blue light, I see the screen as yellow, and wile my time away logging the dull experience. The day is coming close to a close, so the agency strikes in random directions, running against walls like a moth, to settle on something random, like this. Crowing to the demons to send another bone to fetch to lengths of feeling guilty about the distraction and serious over-indulgence that sent the previous distraction to a buried past - who remembers the past, after all. We are each moment of reaching out into the future, not the past. The past is there inside us, and acts in funny ways, while we act in the present to unearth a new future, from the ashes of the past.

The day was spent staring into a screen, the evening staring through a screen, and the night is back with staring into a screen (into text). No sharp instruments for the day, enough was done over the past coupla days, and let the cuts heal. No effects towards nature or photography either, apart from querying while online, that led to more knowledge, that today went nowhere. The day was slow and cramped, as the clouds closed the valleys and fog hugged the slopes and peered into homes, to later turn into a hour of smashing thunder accompanied with heavy showers. It was in the latter phase of the day that I got to stare through the windshield for a coupla hours, on roads and things that populate it - pedestrians, cars, buses, dogs, cattle, dirt mounds, boulders, and micro-roadkill. Things rolled on fine, and the staring through screen phase got over without any offences towards mankind.

The day staring into a screen was mainly about studies. Infinite amount of studies that await, is getting tended to. It is hard to survive on the hope of struggle, but it goes on. As to the content, t'was something divergent from present ambitions of a masters degree, but interesting shit nonetheless. The benefits of viewing the individual in terms of multiple intelligences (MI, as against IQ, which is the dominant "measure" of an individual's capabilities in much of today's world and has been so since the post-WWII era) is now more evident to me.

Reading on "Intrapersonal Intelligence", the following line gave some analytical food for thought.
Injury to lower area of frontal lobes likely to produce irritability or euphoria
I deduce that I suffer from some frontal lobe injury - most likely high altitude to blame, or that head injury that happened once as a teenager in cricket days. I show both the symptoms (though not sure if that is supposed to be the case). But I wish we had an app to do that i.e. study one's brain matter. Quick-fMRI or Quick-CT or Quick-SPECT instrument builtin (or available as modular mobility picks up).

½ intelligences await. Wait for it...

Tuesday, August 09, 2016

Quill Pen mania

It was on the "table" (or tab-cosmos) since last week. Finally, I got to consume it, and thereafter digest it and expel something derived - from als (ich bist das) was ich isst - which is logged here.

Shakespeare, Newton and meself had something in common this afternoon.
I got to write (literally) much like they did in their times, a few hundred years back - the process, that is, not the content. The three of us have now experienced writing with the same instrument. For the former two, the instrument would be the default instrument of writing; for the latter, the instrument happened out of curiosity arising in an anti-zeitgeist phase of life. Though its use felt laborious, the Quill Pen is gonna linger in my project lists.

It was easier to execute than to have learnt about. The learning that happened went beyond the foundational/historical perspective, and into its design. Thereafter, a real quill pen happened, fashioned from an Eagle/Kite flight feather (one among the lot I collected through roaming Punjab). Then another one, fashioned from a porcupine quill (thanks, Hystrix Indica, for being out there in nearby forests). Then knol gain on making glue-based inks that are effective with such pens (regular pens aka fountain pens clog up with these old world inks), something that would be put into practice later. The bigger the bird, the more fancy the pen that could be fashioned. Ostriches and Peacocks quills already exist.

Here are a coupla useful blogs which will seem as tedious, but are an easy read

The above image is that of a Sea Pen, which - I Guess - got its name from the original instrument, quill pens for its obvious reason of visual similarity.
Sea Pens are diverse and delicate underwater animals, and as their name suggests, they can look like old style writing pens. They have hard, internal skeletons, and few of them can even glow in the dark, which is how some colorful Sea Pens decorate the Ocean floor (see pictures in Image Gallery).

Thursday, August 04, 2016

A collection of moments/quotes from Sans Soleil

Recently saw an indulgent movie, indulgent for the navel-gazers like me.
Sans Soleil, 1983, by Chris Marker [wiki, imdb]
[did you know there are Emus in Haldwani]

A solution to change the present, through the medium of iconography
if the images of the present don't changechange the images of the past

Expressing the falsities and inadequacies of the image
portable and compact form of an inaccessible reality

How love can't be imagined without illusions

If to love without illusions is still to love, I can say that I loved it

To dissent and to fail, is not failure
All they won in their understanding of the world could've been only won only through struggle.

How the mind can adapt (its knowledge) towards any mode of action
... they studied capitalism so thoroughly to fight itthat now they provide it with its best executives

A movement is not without personal goals
... the movement had its posturers and careerists - of matrydom
On the students who fought and massacared in the name of (their) revolution
they "trembled with indignation every time an injustice is committed in the world"
[original, by Che Guevara] "If you tremble with indignation at every injustice, then you are a comrade of mine."
Leading towards a life, vs leading a life

They are life, to be eaten on the spot, like fresh donuts.Its a very simple secret. the old try to hide it, and not all the young know it.

On a dance-cult, that does public performances as a means of cleansing or understanding
For the Takenoko, 20 is the age of retirement.They want people to look at them but don't seem to notice that they do.

Personal development through a movement or revolution, as learnt from the Guinea-Bissau coup

We'll see that beneath this ceremony of promotions,seemingly perpetuating the brotherhood of the struggle,there lay a pit of post-victory bitterness,
and that Nino's tears expressed not an ex-warrior's emotionbut the wounded pride of a heroslighted at not being raised high enough above the rest.Beneath each of these faces lies a memory,and where there was to be one collective memory,there are a thousand memories of men who parade their personal woundsin the great wound of history.


On finally understanding Mussorgsky's compositions

Its meaning has been lost, but for the first time, he glimpsed the presence of that thinghe didn't understand,which had to do with unhappiness and memory,which he must grasp at all cost,and toward which, slowly, heavily, he began to walk.

The entire text.

Visually unappealing fauna

There's a society that champions the ugly! That's right, the uglies that we don't empathize with, and won't dole out large amounts of cash towards conservation efforts for. They sit at the other end of the list of "Charismatic Animals".. and someone setup a Ugly Animal Preservation Society (official) in their concern.

Their tagline:
We can't all be Pandas
The following animals were deemed the ugliest, hence championed, all across the UK
- the Blobfish (adopted as their mascot)
- the Promachoteuthis sulcus (squid, that doesn't even have a common name - poor thing)

These are the fauna which don't fit in with our anthropo-centric / neoteny-philic view of the world, and get labeled "ugly" - in a world of skin-deep beauty. But they have some amazing structural features, and unique adaptations, and have gone longer being on this planet (hence being a more fitter of species) than us humans.