Showing posts with label sunday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sunday. Show all posts

Monday, February 06, 2017

Field Recording Itch

Of late, I've directed thoughts often towards birds. That continuity led to today's thoughts - much exclusively towards assembling a field recording kit, so that the birdsongs aren't a mere fleeting memory. And yet again, I have concluded that choosing a reliable/stable/effective kit is a bit complicated. Earlier, I have browsed over hours, to come to similar conclusions.
Each time I get a bit wiser, but many questions still remain open-ended - Do I go for a shotgun or a parabolic mic? Would DIY-ism get me better field recordings? Is a separate recorder necessary? Is a deadcat must? Where in Delhi do audiophiles go (having been to Daryaganj, I've been disappointed)? Where can the field recordists/soundscapers be found in my part of the world? Would starting with soundscapes (hence a XY setup) be better as it is the ulterior intent?

Another annoying part is seeing the immediately-available-in-vicinity prices being much higher than what the same things sell for on Amazon (US). To be limited to a few options, which are priced so as to leave no scope to experimentation, is conflicting. What is the beef the audio manufacturers have with our government, to deserve such jacked up prices? This takes me back to last decade when anything electronic would blindly be a much better deal if a friend/relative was returning from the US or Emirates.

As of the moment of logging this, some bird's very unique calls intrude the airspace. Only if I'd have something to hook into it... gah!

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.

Sunday, April 03, 2016

Lines to wish a good start to days this summer

The river glideth in a secret tongue
And doth flow deep the summer long. 
The slow day's celebration spins
Its line about all scenes, and man
Reflects the length of time 

We keep meandering along sensing each flavor - each secret - that the tongue ever tasted.
So far it seems to be going good, in that I have been gliding all this day.

Need a new Gilgit guy

Fata Morgana, this Sunday, illusory and novel issues abound. As random as anybody could imagine.
And currently on a nervy note. I have been blessed to get a jerk of a flatmate who has eschwed the issue at hand - of his excess consumption of power in the summer months, which will have me either displace myself or pay for my pride which being broke doesn't help. How smart people get in their living, and shun anything else but that - the smarts. I have now tuned into music for immediate relief, and this. He has made me lose respect for the region where he claims to be, and I need somebody else to gladly endorse and brag about.

Here's a me for a few next few moments - ascertaining various damages, running a few conversations, the satisfaction of harm, the human tendency/art of circumnavigation, the need for informally-signed room-mate agreements, Dante Alighieri, and the outdoors. I think the last thought is what broke me out of the regressive and extensive perspectival trails that the recent chaos created.
A landslide, so mortal I feel, so unsettled. Need to disconnect myself, as the song says.

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.

Monday, February 08, 2016

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.

Sunday, November 01, 2015

Ootheca and the Ancient Astronauts

This morning, I came across a curious object in the forest. It was a green-colored spongy ball the size of the palm of my hand. It was about as heavy as a paper rolled into a ball of the same size. There was some detritus - a leaf, a coupla pine nettles - lodged in this object that was closed from everywhere. Gentle wind blew this morning, and I deduced this had been carried to its present spot by that same wind through the night. Realizing that anything so fragile lying so bare on the forest floor (which was most likely an accidental occurence) will not last for long in the daylight hours, I carried the ball home.

My impulse, that this was an Ootheca - the cocoon sac that the Praying Mantis weaves and lays egg in, kinda like an incubation chamber - turned to be correct. The Mantids - the females, in this case - are industrious, artful spinners that build this colossal structure overnight from their spit. Meticulously, the female mantid would spit some, then lay an eggs, and wrap them neatly in more spit, to total about 100-200 eggs, that results in a ball the size of the mantid herself (comparing it to humans, it is akin to being in labor, building a house, then giving birth, all by oneself; but the distinctions make this a lesser worthwhile comparison).
Striking gold Ootheca felt special, since I have the Mantoidae in my mindae of late. My obsessiveness has resulted in a few GBs of nothing but extreme closeups of them in their nature, just lounging.

The Ootheca is a brilliant labyrinthine structure. The mantids indeed work very hard on something that offers an evolutionary closure. It is a very resilient structure, that can withstand winds and cold for months. The Mantids generally take 2-3 months for incubation. For something of that small a size, that is a long while. The while gets even longer, when temperature and moisture conditions are not appropriate. For this reason, predicting a mantid hatching is difficult, unless done in a controlled manner. This fact is put in intelligent use among insect/mantis breeder communities, who collect and keep the Ootheca in cold storage, and produce suitable conditions in a controlled environment to initiate the hatching. Yes, it will survive the period of unfavorable conditions, almost like plant seeds. It is a structure that seems to offer insights into how we can populate other worlds with the species of our own that can be frozen (in development), transported, and later made to "hatch".

Back home, when my guess was unconfirmed, I put my curiosity to the first person around, a village boy about 16 years old, Amit. He had seen it before. "It comes from the meteors at night," he said. It was surprising, since, firstly, there was an existing cultural explanation of an Ootheca, and secondly, because it connected to the outer space. I asked a senior villager, 75-year old DK, and his reply resonated with Amit's, "It is a fragment broken from the stars".
Then I hastened to ask a third village person around - a resident of another Himalayan region called Garhwal (aka Garhwal-is, as against the first two who were Kumaon-is), Vir. "It is the dropping of creatures living in distant stars," Vir said with confidence. It was happening to discover a cultural commonality, that had a connection to the outer space, and maybe even a keen insight into how life came to be on this planet.
That there is an understanding of space beyond Heaven and Hell, a un-earth-centric theory that talks of cosmic plularity, and that it exists as an understanding among the commoners, is thought fodder for me. The Ancient Astronaut theory also came to my mind, and this could offer some insight into how/why life started / was started.


I, for one, will welcome our new Mantid overlords.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

uprooted and sorted

No drumrolls, but this week has been more sorted. Too bad it ended up sorting me.

Sortedness
========

Studies: I got my nose back into the books. For my 'crowd' its hard to start, so the messy, wet, sloppy experience of (yet another) start will soon be cruise sailing.

Orderliness: for all the data that I now own, it was begging for consolidation. I have found meself wasting so much time over 'that photo' that I sat and made a lotta buckets through the day. Sadly, it is kinda addicting to do that with one's own pics, and I might lapse into this addictive habit regularly until all that content is available for immediate consumption.
Physically running through folders is still quicker than on any software I've used. Tagging is amazing, but the first cleavage should be a file-to-copy-file effort. Now lemme look for that copy of Windows Commander. (Update: it is now called Total Commander, and still available for upto Win 7!)

Externality: Over the week, two tiny lives have given me the only reasons to step out. I've fed them on three consecutive days, including today. The local nexus of the cobbler, the tobacconist, the chaiwallah, and the cassette wallah, look over them with great care, and even in the middle of a bustling market with a lotta traffic most of the day, the pups are healthy, happy and feel secure. They are very playful, more so after a hearty lunch like today's.
I had to drag them out from under the parked cars by their tail, those sleepy heads. They were lazy to boot, but once they came out of their dream and realized they were in another one with a lotta food and a human, they were in high energies and played for a long while (or maybe the rice helped increase their sugar levels, which is what promoted activity).

Sub-new: Blackrat's new OnePlus 2, on which we had a sub-sub-new: 4k video shooting.
Our memories now exist in 4k. To consider how far we've come in a mere 15 years, in terms of resolution, from 172x something, which is approx 0.1k, to 4k; and our minute-long videos that barely exceeded 40MB on older digicams (cameras dedicated to recording stuff), to this 4k res on a phone, which generates a ~400MB file for the same.

Work: in doing new stuff, the old stuff didn't find time. Makes for too many post-its on my walls.

Unsortedness
==========
Work: Got fired, now feeling fried. Luck strikes early, or finally ends.
New lows for somebody who didn't imagine all such this strife.

Advice for losers
Another low?
Whattey blow!
Break the flow,
Take it slow.

Monday, August 31, 2015

Ride to R, Passive Politeness

Sunday was a timeless one. I could've been 22, 25, or in the present, living out the same Sunday. It started on the bike, and peaked between the fifth and eighth hour of the day. It was a long break since the last I'd been out on a bike.  Delhi, however, easily grows back on me, now that I have indexed it well, and it takes only a while out there, to get back into enjoying the city.

It was a small loop, to Rajpath and back. The sea of humanity along Rajpath / India Gate was touching. Some activity groups noticed: Cyclists, Runners, Skaters, Motorbikers. It was surprising to not see any Yoga groups, now that Yoga has been endorsed to epic levels. A Sunday feature are Segways, offloaded from minivans, for the tourist or for a demo to prospective clients - this being the only place I've seen them in action. I can think of our bird sanctuaries doing with a few Segways. The lawns either side of Rajpath were still lined with pockets of floral blooms - yellow, white, magenta like an artist's dab of the brush.

I wiled some time at the lawns before heading back. There was a injured pigeon spotted earlier, which was unfortunately missing on the way back (or fortunately?). Rajpath sees injured birds often ending up there, maybe the open lawns giving them visibility (as against cover of the urban canopy). I could imagine riding out with bag with a bird compartment, which could come handy for such situations, alongwith a short detour to the Jain Bird Hospital at Lal Qila (in Old Delhi). Felt like asking the kids out for a game of Football, but didn't and instead kept it for later. Also, first time I went up a tree upside down.

Back home, the day was about evading boss and alleviating other similar afflictions. Studied a bit. Slept a good while. Each of the days are colorful ways of plays of reality (even in the imagination) but the progress of time keeps me jittery.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

rains

i love the rains. of course, i love the sun as much, and the interplay of sun and rain even more. call it the novelty of change, or whatever, i like it. the blue skies turning dark and vice versa are the dual moments of climax during a spell of rain - they don't make movies to excite that way. no wonder why perverts fuck in the cinma theaters while saner folks prefer the embrace of nature.

as for my story with today's clouds, they don't seem to like me so much, because they went away too soon. i could see their grey pregnant bellies as they drifted out, that which was suspended like an endless blanket - the texture of fur and velvet - above only a few minutes back. permeancies are deceptive. i bet the met could have prevented this thought, had i read about the 'expectancy of a short rainy spell' earlier. well, wiser and wordcount-richer, nonetheless.

now that they are gone, let me talk about my special relationship with sunshine. "hellow sunshine" burbles in the head as winds do their thing and sweep the clouds away. my precious now turns into sunshine. our relationship has been very long, of about 30 years, full of adventure and vitamin d. vitamin d is essential so many lively moments we have. sometimes we sit and talk about death too, the other d. vitamin d is also what's wrong with me. it is an anti depressant, hence uplifts one in a positive way, to a positive state. positive people rarely show flight response. i'm stupid enough to be swayed by my own hormones. epic fail.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Nature consciousness - no rape

People talk and act like idiots when it comes to interacting with their own environment. They try to give it their own value system. We are both a selfish and a dominating society, that does not like to be sensitive about other species that cohabit with us. Take our animals, for instance. We anthropomorphize them, often to our advantage. We use their behavior to give rationale to our acts, and we use our behavior to give a human facet to their acts. It is a violence in a sense. Time and again, we prove nothing, but how we have chosen to live in a suspension of reality or in abundance of superstition or in aloofness to everything that's not about our survival and displaying an insensitivity when it is about our survival.

Take an example of fables of animals raping humans. Bears are especially infamous. Hill folk tales abound with a bear having taken a damsel away to his cave and shown care and love, and ultimately sexual advances. Poor bears; they never raped anybody even in their own species, and they get the label of a libidinous abductor.

Or how the behavior of a particular gorilla in Australian zoo was equated to rape, and shown as an insight into our primitive instincts. In science world, such things rarely contribute to a body of knowledge that helps us in understanding our nature, but in the popular world any semblance is received with an enthusiasm that nothing but domain illeteracy can explain.

Dolphins, recently, have been found to 'rape' their handlers. Well, that rape is something more akin to frottage. Dogs do it, to children, beds, balls, poles, your legs, anything. Since dolphin's moments of spiked libido happen in water, obviously the struggle to get away will be harder (and funnier), and it'll make news.

When a dog urinates on a fire hydrant, that is neither an obscene gesture nor an act of vandalism. It is just a dog being a dog. The moment, even the instant, you try to attribute societal motives to the actions of an entirely different species, no matter how close the evolutionary relationship to your own, you have just stepped into extremely murky waters. If the societal motive you choose to attribute to such a species just happens to be human-oriented, you have stepped back out of murky water and squarely landed on a island made of faulty assumptions - in short you are now anthropomorphizing your subject.

"Rape" and "sexism" carry moral judgments. "Grief" does not. Moral judgments should be reserved for people, in my humble judgment. I think it's problematic to impute internal attributes such as will and consent and right and wrong to other animals. It's more straightforward to describe the orangutan behavior just like Barbara did, i.e. "unlike gorillas, they sometimes physically restrain a female and mate with her even as she cries out and struggles."

What I'm about though is saying that these behaviors are not natural in the sense of inevitable either in our closest cousins the apes, or as evolutionary roots of behavior for us. I don't think, to go a bit further, that we have "a human nature," for example: we evolved to be flexible according to our circumstances. We have laid a violent foundation to our interaction with our environment, which falters in the very understanding of it.

Sunday, July 12, 2015

sunday morning ride

I am supposed to start as a professional, on the last day of this weekend, for a change, and I'll do that soon.

Rode out early today. The phrase 'riding out early' (and its derivates) has seen rare use through two years. There hasn't been a single 'trip' to count for, since the pedal through Konkan coastline back in 2013. Since then I have been relegated to love, and my bike has been relegated to a curio piece in the anteroom of homes that we have switched over the years. How guilty I feel about Godiva being raised a city girl (or rather, enduring the city); she is made for a mountains, being an MTB. In some ways today was a commitment to make amends. Sadly my organism experiences new endings and beginnings every week, and claims to be very messed up in times and schedule, which when sorted, would also allow me to get her to taste some Himalayan tarmac. Oh, and fix her first - just a body part replacement and modest servicing needed.

The rainy morning was a great bonus. 'Rainy morning' sees rare use too, in terms of direct experiene. I had 'Delhi' all over me at the end of the ride. Delhi that came from left right, down, and top, in the way of water and grime. That Delhi was washed away in Liril and Fructus.  The roads that get waterlogged invite dodging hence increasing the chances of danger. Thinking of that, I took a circuitous-but-good route (good tarmac that I could recall) that took me next to a large stadia and other large structures - like the Supreme Court, India Gate, etc - that constitute Lutyen's Delhi, followed with impromptu plans of a detour to the river Yamuna via Akshardham flyover, and ended with a topping on the cake called Barapullah.

Riding out in the chaos of rains was fun. Such days make even healthy organisms feel sick. My sickness was in the form of nostalgia. In the days of the early wars, when recording illnesses, causative agents behind diseases (like Meningitis) were rather inaccurately identified, a lot of sicknesses  - and in some cases deaths - would be attributed to 'nostalgia' or 'melancholia'. Memories spilled out instead of sweat and coagulated instead of blood. The human humdrum, the rain, and the ride make for such moments.

A large cluster of kites (cheelein) occupied the skies of Nizamuddin. Slaughterhouses (cut) open early, y'know. Predators on wings encircling the city, watching with telescopic gaze to take a grab at the first piece of meat their eyes meet. Stripping out anthropomorphical/metaphoric context, the sight of these birds in the city is beautiful and welcome, but not the fact that abattoirs sustain them today. Also, a pity to see no vultures formed that large group.

Sunday, May 24, 2015

sunday blues

Stupid things men do
Well, I did it too


Feel like getting stoned (stoning in the 'courtyard stoning' sense) because of that one slip. Damn me for tripping out on game theory, porn ideas, pulp fiction (plus a sprinkle of human falling) to bring it there. Weirdly i had gone through it before it played in real, and saw a safe stop point.
That might sound very ugly in a libidinous sense, but, safe distances I know better off, since sex hasn't been the consequence of 7 of the 12 bare days Tammy and I have spent in each other's company.

Yes, 12 times that I distinctly remember physically seeing her, 4 of them being through-nighters where on two nothing happened. This was the phase of our "relationship" days - 12 days of facetime, totalling about 6+5+1+12+2+2+6+12+12 = 58 hrs or barely 3 days. Clocked 58 hours with K, I believe in the first week since I told her I had a crazy fondness about her, and amidst as much natural beauty about us as that craziness - Gulmarg, Srinagar, Delhi. Well, we did our 58 hours together in Gulmarg itself if you consider that post-admission there were still 4 days still followed in Gulmarg where we picked up Skiing together, 4 days stealing glances there in the snows, creatively conversating through eyes and smiles, and topping it off with a celebratory night in a cottage. Very infantile, but totally deserving.
After such calculation I wonder what insecurities are on a comparable level here.

Well, we're in the mood for love, finally. Me and my blog.

morning duties

Oddly sane morning. Broke out of the spell of work and code. Went out for a ride, it was a fast one, where I averaged over 26, and surely hit 30 many in those cadence-peak moments. It is hard to do so with a bike with slipping gear-shifts (thanks to a worn out rear cassette that has been calling for replacement since the last year), and a phone the dimensions of a brick in your backpocket that felt gone on any bumps (and Delhi roads have many). Here's to a bit more tuning to the days. I've been on tuning for the past month, but in the past week the force seems strong.

Well, I keep breaking my routines, and then having these resurgent phases where the first few outings induce striking reflections, a commoner's beginnings - idealistic, sometimes-lofty, over-indulgent, over-promising. I guess that doesn't just apply to cycling. Indulgence should keep to action, only then will it be tolerated. Indulgent traits in me continue well into home, like right now. I might not be projecting lofty futures, but surely appealing for some.

So what do I do on a morning where things have started with a fix to a nagging code issue and a full hour of cycling? Sleep.

Monday, November 03, 2014

Sunday readings

It takes 500 steps, on average, walking between the two BIG gates.
It takes 460 strides, on average, running between the two BIG gates.
The two big gates are about 840m apart.
Beyond the gates, another 1666m and 3111 steps, takes you to a land of lights.
It takes 2500 steps on the way back from the shorter lonely route.
It is 328 steps to the 18th. For fools, its 555 steps.
The 13th floor is spooky, for it is the only one with an empty cement cave where an apartment should be.
Daffodil and Daisy are linked by this "cave" on the 13th.