Showing posts with label delhi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label delhi. Show all posts

Monday, May 30, 2016

Raving about Mondays

I was born on a Monday. 30 years have passed, since that Monday, without ever wondering - that what was the day our calendars started on. It turns out, that 'twas a Monday, too. [January 1st 1 AD (Gregorian Calendar aka the modern calendar) - a Monday - was January 3rd 1 AD by the Julian Calendar - a Saturday starts the Julian]. Today, that I muse and resolve, is a Monday as well. Doshanbe pride!

Year Zero i.e. what preceded the first day of the first year, is a debatable subject, as both the Julian and the Gregorian Calendar, both enter 1BC when we roll back into the day before Jan 1 of 1AD. A way to consider it will be
1BC - (singularity of the divine birth) - 1AD
instead of
1BC - 0BC - 1AD
Because they incorporate a 0BC, astronomers (like Cassini) have been at odds at their chronology of events.

Funny thing: Gregorian Calendar was adopted in 1582, hence resolving the older ambiguities in a theoretical manner. The theoretical resolution resulted in 10 days being dropped - October 4, 1852 was followed by October 15, 1852.
[useful links: 0,1,2]

Sunday, May 22, 2016

Games at DFCP

Social structures in games
1 team, of 12-15 punjabis, at cricket
1 team, of 8 afghanis, at football
1 small family unit, of 3"desi"s, at cricket
1 team, of 15-20 kids of seemingly-diverse ethnicities, at cricket

a play on the leg side by the punjabis, and their ball would roll to the afghani ground. a mistimed attempt at the goal by the afghanis, and their football would roll to the punjabi ground. a bad swipe to miss the ball by the desis, and their ball would roll to the afghani ground. a square cut by the diversity kids, and their ball would roll to the punjabi or afghani ground. but those busy playing didn't quarrel.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Weltanschauung

If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulder of Giants - Isaac Newton
The audio-blogs I've been listening to, since yesterday, have built up on this same notion - using the giant past,  compiled history of culture, sciences/anthropology/sociology, to explain the present reality in consideration of a future understanding of reality. Nonplussed I did start, but little tidbits of information stuck as interesting.

One, that we have usurped from culture its share/hold in/on the society. Not that we've demolished culture, we have more of disrupted and rejuvenated it in postmodern terms.

Two, that the pace of technology has made pseudo-understandings obsolete. Scientific rigor has left us with little mumbo-jumbo to believe in, and also little time to delve in or encourage more of such. The market of several philosophies that also exist as professions has been going down.

Three, that we have made transmission of human thought unbound. We have exponentially increased our capacity to make copies of an expressed thought or theory. Things can be instantaneously shared, and made communication a sort of primitive form of telepathy. Billions of thoughts since the invention of written language that would've died with the moment now survive. A thought dying is much rarer now. This effect can counter the earlier one, and mumbo-jumbo that does exist, is more localised, but more appropriate for a population with a reduced world-view which is still possible due to human indulgences in their "self" lives.

Four, that a concept like Minority Report is immature. We can never predict behavior or draw generalities from analysis of situations. A more realistic system would be one that predicts and prevents liability deaths, as in accidents, that can be deployed city-wide. Otherwise, the things that can kill you in a bad moment, are too many to model. Trust me, I live among the most number of people in a country like India.

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Feeding the Frog and Hopping the Dog

The night extended into a morning food delivery job. I served leftover bread (roti/chapati) to the dogs under the Defcol flyover. Then my eyes fell on a park so nice, that I was pulled into its mystical complex.

To put it less cryptic words, a morning run ensued - one after a long break. I was hitting menopause, you see. Now I am purged of urges and can continue my life as a normal 30-year-old guy. NOT. [ignore this para and read on]

The run came about after a previous day of intense sleeping. Some good, came in the way of sleep, and I hope others would agree. If not self-seeking, self-preservation drive was at display, which gives me a sense of inclusion with the human species. The tiring run also gives me a sense of inclusion, in the induced senselessness.

The run was long er than usual - 5 laps. Still a short distance, but less shorter, nonetheless, which is a minor upping over the olden days. Vanity to vanquish the valiant. The post-run interval comprised of a failure to find mulberry trees in the park complex, and a failure to pull to terminate the avian display this guy had put up. Final act of exist comprised of the lizard and the frog. What starts with the dog ends with the frog.

Sunday, April 03, 2016

re-entry


Complain and arraign me; I got nothing to escape the guilt of inactivity on this platform. I thought that what the world wished someone would tell them has now been said - but, apparently, NOT. I will try to say more, rather absurdly, reflecting and opinionating on things from a personal (sometimes, skewed) perspective, and put it all out there again. The ghost that walks/treks is again at prowl.
If you are reading this, you are probably way off your life goals.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

WYSIWIWA argument

What our present government is doing is an argument I'm not getting into. It wastes a lot of time. Just to step out and see, it is a lot easier to explain yourself, and indeed win the argument. This organism stays indoors most of the time these days, but a single visit to the unfolding "vision" of India, that exists and (tries to) function outside is enough to have me push my thoughts out with certitude.

WYSIWIWS - What You See Is What I Wanted To Argue

The night before, almost a coupla hours were spent with O, holding strongly opposing viewpoint of what my favorite state-controlled industry, the Indian Railways, is doing. I want those back. If I had a quality called "vehemency" (strongly protesting wrong perceptions and beliefs), and were less lazy, then those coupla hours could've been better argued with a visit to the Old Delhi Railway Station, where I happened to be last night.

Anything I write about it here would be an understatement. The experience was a crass one. Soon as I stepped out from the Metro Station (that directly connects), there was a large waterbody to skirt around - more like a body of piss than a body of water, in reality. It looked like they still can't get the damn public urinals functioning - earlier people were urinating on the walls and the stench was the first thing to hit one on the way out of the Metro Station, followed by trails of urine to hop over. Now, there is a public urinal in place, whose mismanagement has consolidated all the human excreta and put it for an even more real experience with bad hygiene. Who knew so many diseases were for the taking, besides the promised travel, by our Railways. Travelers converged into a single-person channel that skirted around the water body. Ones in rush, and the valiant ones, splash through the pool, affecting even ones who thought they stayed outta it.

Then, the long queues. Despite anticipating large traveler traffic, - which is to increase in numbers, as the festival of Holi comes close (it falls on 24th of March) - there is no preparation to handle the menace. It already felt a menace. Mismanaged queues, barring the throughfare on one side, and the water body on the other. It adds greatly to the traveler discomfort, and yet authorities turn a blind eye to it.

If you wonder what "Vision" this conveys, and what all has been done in budget spending in the last coupla years, then there is one clear answer to all your questions - the ATMs (automated ticketing machines) that have been setup around the complex. Who doesn't like the BSOD errors on display terminals! Two were seen working. There were a three that said they didn't work - a simple BSOD message. There were five or six more (in the far background), that were just dead, no display, and assured us that they won't ever work. And to fire our imagination about setting up infrastructure for Magleav trains... either shows how lying is at work, or how our existing infrastructre (that I'm sure won't be taken out of service anytime soon) will suffer stagnation and people will come to eschew train travel.

Tuesday, March 08, 2016

Unoriginality is annoying

A coupla days back, it was a pleasant surprise to read about an innovative undertaking by the environmental science students at Delhi University - to monitor bird sounds and find out whether the birdsong has changed due to rising pollution in the city. Conjecture is that due to the damping effect of pollution, the birdsong cannot travel far, hence the birds now sing at a higher frequency than usual.
DU to study how pollution affects birds’ sound

Today, to some shock, it turns out to be an existing idea. The original research is covered well in an article here - too well covered, I guess.
Present annoyance comes from the death of the excitement caused by considering it an original idea. I dunno what scholars have, if not for things they would like to conceptualize and do.

Wednesday, March 02, 2016

war and lust


Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury expounds the following
The condition of man... is a condition of war of everyone against everyone.
Curiosity is the lust of the mind.
Just google "hobbes quotes" and more of his viewpoints put in sensational words come up.

I am two of his state of minds. For every line penned, he would be in a unique state altogether. Calling to wage wars in the middle of the lustful pursuits of the mental and jobless realm. My flatmate doesn't help it either - his arrival set an avalanche that buried my day's thoughts under rubble. That rubble I pick and throw here on the blog. Survival skills coming to the test, which is fine with me.

Knolling has occupied much of the day. The things on the bed, the ones strewn on my laptop and pen drives, the ones on the table, the ones in my head, the path of gainfully employed existence - and in that same order of success (or completion).

Also, a conversation set off an avalanche shortly before flatmate showed up, but it was akin to a gold vein shooting up and burying what would be just stones, or flat formless thoughts from the day, to leave me with a lot of nuggets to pick up from around. I have been seeking a career as a gold prospector, so the imagery might be an inspired one, but the result of that conversation was positive and took me on a different chain of thought altogether.

Hanging midway into the week


We are into Wednesday. This organism is still stuck on his Monday plans. What a better way than announce a call to action, for the week to start. What a better way to resign to the futility of toughts.

The first thing I'd imagined about this week the last week was returning to Delhi. That was done! Rest of the imaginations didn't turn into factual realities.

Recollecting yesterday, sleep comes to mind. Recollecting the day before, sleeplessness comes to mind. The purpose for the starting days of the week were swapped, in terms of sleep, and consequentially negated, in terms of purpose.

Recollections run old, and the old days also seem resurgent, but not in terms of any purpose. The prospects of a purpose (and gold) prosper, in the meantime. Still hanging there.

Gold-digger


Just a coupla days back, Vedanta won India's first gold mine auction - that of the Baghmara mine in Chattisgarh. It is estimated to give a total yield of 2700kg. Presently, India consumes about 900-1000 tonnes of gold per annum. It produces 15 tonnes of those, and procures the remaining 885-985 tonnes. Being a gold-crazy nation, and yet locally mining for 1.5% of its total needs, our priorities seem haywire. The infamous bureaucratic red tape has also shown its magic here, by delay of licenses; and corruption also reared its head here, in the way of the recent mining scams coming to light.

Coincidentally, today, I started into looking into a career as a gold prospector. Finding gold in the wild was and is still an adventure. The cool thing is that gold is a siderophile (ie tends to bond with metallic iron) and a chalcogen (occuring in an ore like copper), so it is found commonly, albeit in trace amounts. The funny thing is, that it takes little to bootstrap oneself into finding gold. Knowledge, skill, technology, time, these four ingredients are what make it work. Even with technology missing, and time short, the former two ingredients can go a long way.

PS: Gold has the chemical symbol Au, which is Latin for Aurum, which refers to the yellow of the dawn

Monday, February 08, 2016


dear doshanbe.. what curse are you closely obeying? why does all breakfast turn charred? why does the inanimate still get to win? and, what's next?




Feverish over Ev history

Sunday spent feverish about people well dead and buried by now. The 1922 British team to attempt the Everest was an A-team of all sorts. It was only a year back, in the 1921 reconaissance mission, that a possible route to the Everest - through Tibet - was identified. These two expeditions - of 1921 and 1922 - count among the best, hardest, and bravest of mountaineering expeditions on this subcontinent. The enthusiasm with which every member of the team took it up, despite the inconveniences, brings to mind that agency that i have been trying to find and lift myself through in this year.

Also managed to confirm some finer details of JBL Noel's 1913 expedition, AM Kellas' covert documentation of 1920s, and the 1921 expedition, all of which led to the 1922 expedition.
The Arun River, which originates from Shishapangma (the shortest of eight thousanders), also has a fascinating course, that ultimately feeds the Saptkoshi system, that was new knowledge for me. Oh, and Tashikak != Tashigaon, that which fired all my curiosities to begin with, was resolved.

And I guess every time somebody takes a damn lotta interest in this, at the end of the day sits Wade Davis, with his book "Into the Silence" chronicling those events. Though a 2011 book, it is available at very few vendors - at 672 pages it sits beyond the boundaries as a primer or as a lighthearted reading, and I guess that is why it hasn't received a wider audience.
Lucky to have stumbled onto the last remaining copy on Amazon India, a surprisingly cheap paperback edition available that was immediately summoned to my home.

Tuesday, February 02, 2016

Social prow

Clothes maketh the man
Naked people have little or no influence on the society.

This adage was running in my head a coupla days back. Then yesterday, irregardless of my anti-sociality, or maybe giving up on sociality, I put on a traditional kurta. Then by the evening I had 3 friends who I haven't met in a while. It turned to be a dense nightover.
I got 2 compliments over the kurta, which is not bad (out of 3 in the best case scenario), and which fulfills the purpose the kurta was made for. This is like walking out with an umbrella in the summers to have it rain. Or is this like flesh attracting scavengers? Or a social consciousness?

What crap to start my Doshanbe with. Next frontier: eusociality.

Coldplay's shallow India of Colors and Chaos


Reminded of this passage from EM Forster's "A Passage to India" after watching Coldplay's latest MV out - Hymn for the Weekend. It is average, shallow like the rest.



This coming from people who brought out Andy Serkis and animation pioneers for their next to last video - Adventure of a Lifetime

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Watchin them birds on the street

My first falcon sighting. To chance upon a Shikra, in the middle of urban Delhi, is surprising. Thanks to the drifter day, I got to notice it, perched on the branches of the tree next to my balcony, feeding on carrion. A long observation ensued. The bird was not nervy to my presence, as I had assumed. We both checked each other out aplenty. A very curious squirrel kept pestering the bird, while it lounged on its breaks between the feeding cycles.

PS: Shikra derives from the word "shikari" or hunter, as it is trained and used in hunting by the falconers. It is comparable to a German Shepherd (of domesticated birds world), as in being a utility bird that could fetch game for other more prized birds.


It also turns out that Shikra is not a falcon, but a type of hawk (also called "little banded goshawk") - an Accipiter. It probably was a female, "her" spots match more of whatever females I could find on Google for a confirmation.

The shikra is a small raptor (26–30 cm long) and like most other Accipiter hawks, this species has short rounded wings and a narrow and somewhat long tail. Adults are whitish on the underside with fine rufous bars while the upperparts are grey. The lower belly is less barred and the thighs are whitish. Males have a red iris while the females have a less red (yellowish orange) iris and brownish upperparts apart from heavier barring on the underparts. The females are slightly larger.

Armchair ornithology FtW. This is why we need surviving canopies in our residential areas.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

In the meantime


As a consumer, here is some interesting bits about the world I've consumed in the itinerant new year holidays:


Rubrics and hubris of all sorts, sorry.


Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Monkey Business (no more)

Nov 24, 2015. ~2PM. I am stirred from my sleep by some noise in the house. 
It is a delayed reaction, and my being comes to a sufficient amount of waking and cognitive sensory processing only 5 minutes later. The noise is still there. A low moan strikes my ears, the location of whose origin seems to be right outside my bedroom door (that opens to the balcony). It sounds familiar… like rhesus monkeys. Some of ‘em are probably inside right now.

Stepping off the bed, I cautiously strain my neck to see what beastiary my dining space - where the food is, the fridge is, adjacent to which is the kitchen - now boasts. A lone russet figure sits busy on the table. I am more of a surprise to it than the other way round. It is startled, and gives me a hate look. [Threat display is a behavior every being in nature often uses to defend themselves from aggression, more like an open declaration of hostility, beyond which things will be hella different from the different situation that has already occurred].

I step away from the general access path from the dining to the balcony, via the gallery. I watch it scurry out - and reunite with a baby monkey; and hence end our trifle confrontation. 
It turned out to be a female monkey, a mother, foraging for her child. Both of them now sit huddled outside, on the balcony. I rush to close the balcony grille, and successfully manage to.

Then a gander through my dining. The place is clear - there are no other monkeys. Examination tells, there hasn’t been any destruction at the table. The fridge is open, but all its contents seem intact. The kitchen hadn’t been touched - my sleep lasted a bit short than its expectations. She was a mother that put herself at a great risk for her child, to make out with (apparently) nothing.

Then the answer - that she could find no food in the house, or nothing that qualified as “food” to her. There isn’t a single natural food in my home. An old rotten orange, that she tried to bite into, lies on the table - the lone extant fruit in our household that is used for erecting incense sticks. I feel ashamed.