In olden day, when kingdoms were the rule rather than exceptions, the kings and dynasties were prone to various semi-legal activities to increase/lengthen their influence over the land. One such tactic was: Marriage.
Say Shahapur and Raghavpur were neighbours in a mythical land. Raghavpur wants to increase his influence but cannot do so due to fear of Imaginarypur. King of Raghavpur realises that Imaginarypur is stronger than Raghavpur, but it is not stronger than combined strength of Raghavpur and Shahapur. Now, conviniently, Raghavpur has a son of marraigable age. He proposes to the king of Shahapur the marraige of Shahapur king's daughter and his son. King of Shahapur is not excited withthis offer, as he was expecting the Iparpur to for his daughter. But after lots of wheelings and dealings, which are of no relevance in todays world, he agrees.
Now this poor son is unaware of his scheming father and is happyly engrossed in his studies of Archery and Elephant-riding. Similarly his daughter is still playing hide-and-seek with her freinds and dreaming of a knight in shining armour to arrive from a foreign country.
Now the simple-minded mother is also in another corner of the palace scheming her little plots to get more jwellery and more silk for herself when she suddenly recieves a roll of cloth with the royal emblem. This was called mail in those good old days. This letter informs the mother of the plan of getting her son married to neighbouring princess, and is promised even more jwellery if she agrees.
Even now the prince of one kingdom and princess of other are unaware and busy in their own ways.
Then suddenly, as if divine hand hath commanded, they are invited to a big party where all the courtiers are busy merry making. They are made to sit on tall chair with even bigger partitions while both the kings lock hands as a sign of eternal friendship while drinking with the other hand. And they announce, one sentence each alternatively, of the divine match they are planning and how the great God himself came in their dreams to seed this idea.
Then it dawns on the prince and princess what they have gotten into. But they have no choice left but to sit in their chair and wonder.
This practice vanished along with the kingdoms, or so everybody thought. Until somebody analysed how some of the big organisations work.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Friday, December 04, 2009
The Ultimate Truth
Around 500 years ago the whole religious world was shaken by one man. He almost single handedly disproved the theory that earth was the center of the universe. He proved that not only earth is NOT the center of universe, it is not even the center of our world (the solar system). And the sun around which the earth revolves is one of billions and billions of such stars neither the biggest, nor the smallest, but yet another neighborhood star. This man, Copernicus, showed us that earth was a humble abode with nothing special. This made life of most religious leaders difficult as they had now to answer the question why God chose earth for creating life. They reacted by abandoning Copernicus and jailing anybody who supported this theory. While the proofs against the earth-centric theory mounted, these leaders went into denial. Finally, 500 years after the first discovery, the Pope accepted that the church was wrong. Just in time. The same church was already involved in another denial. This time involving a 150 year old theory of evolution.
Did humans (or life in general) just spring into existence? Or did somebody create them? These were the only 2 alternatives on the table when a third alternative was proposed. This time, the earth shattering theory was provided by Charles Darwin in his book 'The Origin of Species'. According to Darwin, life as we see today has evolved from very humble origins of single celled organism. Every time there is evolutionary pressure, species develop traits to counter the pressure. That explains the speed of Cheetah, the power of the lion, the echolocation of the Bats and the direction sense of migratory birds.
Also, according to this theory, humans are yet another animal in the path of evolution. As Copernicus disproved the Earth-centric theory, Charles Darwin dis-proved the Human-centric theory. This puts lots of religions into a hard place as this gives God lesser and lesser space for maneuver. As God did not create life, he is unlikely to be guiding force in our life either.
Then came along Richard Dawkins, and his The Selfish Gene.This is a relatively new theory, published in 1976, and hence not yet dissected as thoroughly as the other two theories mentioned previously. This theory is a gene centered view of evolution, a theory in which gene is both the cause and the end result of the evolution.
This theory reduced the 'Humble Human' as proposed by theory of evolution into a 'Remote Controlled Humble Human', where humans (and for that matter every other organism) is existing only to defend the genes in us.
The gene which are part of our DNA is store house of data, it governs indirectly what we are, what we do and how much we succeed. The mechanism through which gene influences the physical and mental development is state of art involving 8 levels of translations. The data is flawlessly copied from DNA into RNA, RNA is translated into proteins and proteins influence the embryonic (and latter) development.
This gene is also passed near flawlessly from parents into offsprings. I say near flawlessly because sometimes copying errors occur, and when they occur, they occur in random directions. These copying errors are then passed on to the offsprings. In most cases the copying errors make the offspring worse off than rest of 'normal' beings. These errors are quickly relegated to history. However in few cases, the offspring is better than the normal beings. And in this case the gene spreads through the society like wild fire (on evolutionary scale) and in a few generations it ends up being a trait of the organism.
Consider a 2 set of genes, 1 of a predator, and another of its prey. Assume that under the current conditions both are capable of producing a predator which can kill the prey (sometimes) and a prey which can outrun the predator (other times). These genes are in perfect harmony and can live forever without any need of evolution. However consider the case where a predator develops a mutation which makes it faster than the rest and hence can catch more prey. This makes the predator successful and this gene spreads around. Within a few generations most of the predators can outrun the prey. However this brings evolutionary pressure on the prey whose genes may evolve into having longer legs for running faster. Since this mutant prey is more likely to outrun the evolved predator, it (and its desendents) are more likely to survive and hence soon the equilibrium is reached where both predator and prey can survive. As you can see, in this race both the predators and prey are mortal while the genes is the one which is eternal. This is a race between different genes to adapt and survive.
But in this race of gene survival, where do we come into picture? Well, here comes the truth. We are nothing but a survival machines for these genes. There are various genes who have developed different mechanisms to destroy other genes. And we are the defensive (and offensive) response. As the attacks got more and more sophisticated, the survival machines got more and more complex. First just a protective shell around the gene was enough. But then, when a gene developed a mechanism for breaking through this protective barrier, a more complex multi-cell defense must have emerged. This process continued which resulted in the complex and perfected survival machines we see around in the form of birds, animals, insects and bacterias. And the truth is that Humans are nothing more than a highly perfected survival machine. Nothing more and nothing less.
Now is there a place for a God in this explaination? Is there a place for Atma (soul)? For Re-birth? And for the end-less cycles of birth and death? You decide.
P.S: The genes which have formed humans have perfected the machine so much that the machine itself is threatening to exterminate the genes itself. Humans have become suicide bombers determined to destroy themselves along with the enemies controlling them.
Normative References:
[1] Wikipedia: For many things
[2] The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins
[3] Blind Watchmaker by Richard Dawkins
Informative Reference:
[4] The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins
Did humans (or life in general) just spring into existence? Or did somebody create them? These were the only 2 alternatives on the table when a third alternative was proposed. This time, the earth shattering theory was provided by Charles Darwin in his book 'The Origin of Species'. According to Darwin, life as we see today has evolved from very humble origins of single celled organism. Every time there is evolutionary pressure, species develop traits to counter the pressure. That explains the speed of Cheetah, the power of the lion, the echolocation of the Bats and the direction sense of migratory birds.
Also, according to this theory, humans are yet another animal in the path of evolution. As Copernicus disproved the Earth-centric theory, Charles Darwin dis-proved the Human-centric theory. This puts lots of religions into a hard place as this gives God lesser and lesser space for maneuver. As God did not create life, he is unlikely to be guiding force in our life either.
Then came along Richard Dawkins, and his The Selfish Gene.This is a relatively new theory, published in 1976, and hence not yet dissected as thoroughly as the other two theories mentioned previously. This theory is a gene centered view of evolution, a theory in which gene is both the cause and the end result of the evolution.
This theory reduced the 'Humble Human' as proposed by theory of evolution into a 'Remote Controlled Humble Human', where humans (and for that matter every other organism) is existing only to defend the genes in us.
The gene which are part of our DNA is store house of data, it governs indirectly what we are, what we do and how much we succeed. The mechanism through which gene influences the physical and mental development is state of art involving 8 levels of translations. The data is flawlessly copied from DNA into RNA, RNA is translated into proteins and proteins influence the embryonic (and latter) development.
This gene is also passed near flawlessly from parents into offsprings. I say near flawlessly because sometimes copying errors occur, and when they occur, they occur in random directions. These copying errors are then passed on to the offsprings. In most cases the copying errors make the offspring worse off than rest of 'normal' beings. These errors are quickly relegated to history. However in few cases, the offspring is better than the normal beings. And in this case the gene spreads through the society like wild fire (on evolutionary scale) and in a few generations it ends up being a trait of the organism.
Consider a 2 set of genes, 1 of a predator, and another of its prey. Assume that under the current conditions both are capable of producing a predator which can kill the prey (sometimes) and a prey which can outrun the predator (other times). These genes are in perfect harmony and can live forever without any need of evolution. However consider the case where a predator develops a mutation which makes it faster than the rest and hence can catch more prey. This makes the predator successful and this gene spreads around. Within a few generations most of the predators can outrun the prey. However this brings evolutionary pressure on the prey whose genes may evolve into having longer legs for running faster. Since this mutant prey is more likely to outrun the evolved predator, it (and its desendents) are more likely to survive and hence soon the equilibrium is reached where both predator and prey can survive. As you can see, in this race both the predators and prey are mortal while the genes is the one which is eternal. This is a race between different genes to adapt and survive.
But in this race of gene survival, where do we come into picture? Well, here comes the truth. We are nothing but a survival machines for these genes. There are various genes who have developed different mechanisms to destroy other genes. And we are the defensive (and offensive) response. As the attacks got more and more sophisticated, the survival machines got more and more complex. First just a protective shell around the gene was enough. But then, when a gene developed a mechanism for breaking through this protective barrier, a more complex multi-cell defense must have emerged. This process continued which resulted in the complex and perfected survival machines we see around in the form of birds, animals, insects and bacterias. And the truth is that Humans are nothing more than a highly perfected survival machine. Nothing more and nothing less.
Now is there a place for a God in this explaination? Is there a place for Atma (soul)? For Re-birth? And for the end-less cycles of birth and death? You decide.
P.S: The genes which have formed humans have perfected the machine so much that the machine itself is threatening to exterminate the genes itself. Humans have become suicide bombers determined to destroy themselves along with the enemies controlling them.
Normative References:
[1] Wikipedia: For many things
[2] The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins
[3] Blind Watchmaker by Richard Dawkins
Informative Reference:
[4] The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Senseless Urgency and Urge for Sensationalism
If you trust what almost every new parent say, every child is atleast a genius if not a prodigy. Every random motion of the child is taken as being unique, and every utterance is considered to be a word of wisdom. Every attempt made by the kid to imitate the elders is considered as a sign of a unmatched intelligence which warrants being described to every ear within reach. And with the spread of communication technology, the number of ears within reach is exploding.
The senseless urgency for the child to grow up faster, learn faster than average takes its own toll. And with every generation the adulation of the 'faster' kids keeps growing. According to the anecdotes heard, it was just 2 geenerations ago that parents did not care where the kids are and what they are doing at school. It was important for the kid to go to school and the parent's role ended there. But then slowly the performance in school started getting counted. I thought the phenomenon had reached a pinnacle when I heard a parent of a 5 year old bragging about the 'performance' of her kid in school. But I was proven wrong. Now not only the 5 year olds are expected to perform in academics, but also in sports and chess and dance shows and art.
It is natural for the parents and the society to give importance for performance, but how much importance is appropriate? A child (almost everybody nowadays) grows up having either a superirority complex and complacency by the time he has reached 15, or more likely having no selfworth regarding any of his/her talents. The ego is worth only as much as marks recieved.
It does not take much time for the senseless urgency to convert into urge for sensationalism. After all, not every act in life can be evaluated as marks or rank in exam. Whenever something cannot be evaluated objectively, the only other alternative available is to measure recieved appreciation. And in a society which values marks over knowledge, quantity over quality, it is a simple matter of sensationalising the performance to recieve greater attention and relatively more appreciation.
A simple act of taking a vacation becomes an affair where more photos are uploaded (preferably realtime) than words exchanged. An act of buying a phone used for making calls becomes a mini computer plus a camera and a music system and a gaming device which can be used to 'hang-out' with online friends rather than spending the same time in solitude. The world should know what you are doing at every moment and your every moment revolves around doing what world expects.
Long gone are the days when people used to work for own satisfaction, enjoy for own satisfaction and sleep for own satisfaction. Its the age of sensationalism and of urgency.
The senseless urgency for the child to grow up faster, learn faster than average takes its own toll. And with every generation the adulation of the 'faster' kids keeps growing. According to the anecdotes heard, it was just 2 geenerations ago that parents did not care where the kids are and what they are doing at school. It was important for the kid to go to school and the parent's role ended there. But then slowly the performance in school started getting counted. I thought the phenomenon had reached a pinnacle when I heard a parent of a 5 year old bragging about the 'performance' of her kid in school. But I was proven wrong. Now not only the 5 year olds are expected to perform in academics, but also in sports and chess and dance shows and art.
It is natural for the parents and the society to give importance for performance, but how much importance is appropriate? A child (almost everybody nowadays) grows up having either a superirority complex and complacency by the time he has reached 15, or more likely having no selfworth regarding any of his/her talents. The ego is worth only as much as marks recieved.
It does not take much time for the senseless urgency to convert into urge for sensationalism. After all, not every act in life can be evaluated as marks or rank in exam. Whenever something cannot be evaluated objectively, the only other alternative available is to measure recieved appreciation. And in a society which values marks over knowledge, quantity over quality, it is a simple matter of sensationalising the performance to recieve greater attention and relatively more appreciation.
A simple act of taking a vacation becomes an affair where more photos are uploaded (preferably realtime) than words exchanged. An act of buying a phone used for making calls becomes a mini computer plus a camera and a music system and a gaming device which can be used to 'hang-out' with online friends rather than spending the same time in solitude. The world should know what you are doing at every moment and your every moment revolves around doing what world expects.
Long gone are the days when people used to work for own satisfaction, enjoy for own satisfaction and sleep for own satisfaction. Its the age of sensationalism and of urgency.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Race against Time
I set my alarm for early morning 6 AM, as usual. And I slept. I was still sleeping when suddenly i felt the lights dim all around me and a shadow lurking behind the curtains. It crept up slowly near my bed. A Satan it was, full with a set of horns on its head and a wicked smile. The Satan extended its hand. I wanted to wake up desperately, but Satan must have put a spell on me. I struggled. The Satan was almost near me. I shouted at him, but I think Satan's either dont have ears or dont care about living things. It picked up my Alarm clock and set it at 8:30. Having done this it disappeared with another wicked smile. I cursed loudly, and that must have woken me (real me) up. I was sitting on my bed, sweating profusely, and looking at my clock which was still showing 5 minutes to 6. I thanked god for not having sent Satan down. On second thought, I thanked the satan for coming into my dreams. Now I have 5 more minutes. All the emphasis on 5.
I had a deadline to meet at 8:30. It was a daily deadline, or rather it should be dead-or-alive-line. It gives me shivers to think of what happens to people who miss the deadline. Some of them are never seen again.
I was brushing my teeth and at the same time trying to heat water for my tea, when the bell rang. It was the neighbour kid Elmo, 6 years old and almost a Calvin of Calvin-and-hobbes fame. He had made up a habit to visit me early in the morning. He says that by watching my 'get-ready-in-time' show first thing in the morning, makes his school bearable. He says that he has changed his mind. Unlike other kids, he never wants to grow up. His schecule is tight enough. He cant stand any more deadlines.
Now, that I had an audience, I had an expectation to live upto. Remeber that when I opened the door, I was still brushing my teeth and tea was on stove. Then I remembered that I had not swicthed on Water Geyser for heating. As I was reaching out for a swicth the power went out. It must be the regular load-shedding which I dint know about. A snort of suppressed laughter gave me the feed back that my curse had been heard by the audience and was well-appreciated. So, Cold Water Bath it is.
Now, having made peace with the situation, I took a cup of tea and wanted to relish its feeling, when the milk man came to deliver the milk. It was his pay day today and he wanted to get some advance for the next month too. I told him that he had already taken advance in the previous month. He seems to have known about the deadline and he kept requesting in slow monotonous drool. I lost my patience and gave him 2 months of advance. The way he greeted Elmo confirmed my suspicion both about Milkman having the crucial deadline information as well as the the source of it.
Now, this transaction with the milk man had eaten into much more than the tea-time and I had to leave the cup full of now-cold tea into the sink and run for my cold water bath. Water was freezing and each mug full of cold water on my body was accompanies by a groan (from me) and a clap from outside the door from the audience (or rather hear-ience right now).
Locking the door, looking at the pleased Elmo walking towards his home, I sat on my bike. Praying to god that the bike was in good mood today and starts in the first kick. It was a good day for the bike and within no time I was zooming on the pot-holed roads. More than once I managed to get on the foot path to avoid a slow moving truck or a auto. I felt like I was on cloud nine, when I found the railway gate barring my way. I panicked looking at my watch, and instead of waiting for the train I took off from below the railway gates. Thats when my saner mind realized the train was rushing towards me. There was a lots of gasps and sparks of brake while I was standing on the railway tracks stupefied. The driver managed to stop the train, came down shaking his hand and was about to blast me when he saw my ID card. A smile came on his face, and told me that he had a nephew in the same company and was aware of the early-morning plight. With a Fatherly tap on my shoulders, he helped me accross the other gate. As I was starting my bike again, I heard him say something about my coworkers plight and some of the other drivers nodded in empathy.
Having managed to defy death once, I was on cloud ten. I felt has if Yama-raja himself was riding on as a pillion on my bike and clearing the traffic. I entered the campus where there was an atmosphere of finish line of Marathon World Championship. There were people with flags of various divisions in ATD. I caught the glimse of couple of bookies and people placing bets. There were horns and drums and lot of cheering and booing. The big clock in front of the office was showing 2 minutes to deadline. I braked behind a parked car, and in one swoop locked the bike and pulled down the stand. I was running towards the swipe gates when I realised that I had blocked the way for the man in the car who wanted to take it away. I signalled him to wait for few seconds.
I ran towards the swipe gate, when couple of security guards brought me water bottle and lime to replinish my lost salts. I drank a bit and put rest of teh water over my head to cool it. I was very near the swipe gate and I swiped it, with 30 seconds to spare.
Suddenly there was a lot of firecrackers and even more people coming to congratulate me. A broad smile on my face told the world how glad I was. First a drop of water fell on my face, from my hair I guess. But then there came a bottle full of it.
I opened my eyes. I was still on my bed and my wife with a water bottle in hand, was telling me something about getting late again for office.
I had a deadline to meet at 8:30. It was a daily deadline, or rather it should be dead-or-alive-line. It gives me shivers to think of what happens to people who miss the deadline. Some of them are never seen again.
I was brushing my teeth and at the same time trying to heat water for my tea, when the bell rang. It was the neighbour kid Elmo, 6 years old and almost a Calvin of Calvin-and-hobbes fame. He had made up a habit to visit me early in the morning. He says that by watching my 'get-ready-in-time' show first thing in the morning, makes his school bearable. He says that he has changed his mind. Unlike other kids, he never wants to grow up. His schecule is tight enough. He cant stand any more deadlines.
Now, that I had an audience, I had an expectation to live upto. Remeber that when I opened the door, I was still brushing my teeth and tea was on stove. Then I remembered that I had not swicthed on Water Geyser for heating. As I was reaching out for a swicth the power went out. It must be the regular load-shedding which I dint know about. A snort of suppressed laughter gave me the feed back that my curse had been heard by the audience and was well-appreciated. So, Cold Water Bath it is.
Now, having made peace with the situation, I took a cup of tea and wanted to relish its feeling, when the milk man came to deliver the milk. It was his pay day today and he wanted to get some advance for the next month too. I told him that he had already taken advance in the previous month. He seems to have known about the deadline and he kept requesting in slow monotonous drool. I lost my patience and gave him 2 months of advance. The way he greeted Elmo confirmed my suspicion both about Milkman having the crucial deadline information as well as the the source of it.
Now, this transaction with the milk man had eaten into much more than the tea-time and I had to leave the cup full of now-cold tea into the sink and run for my cold water bath. Water was freezing and each mug full of cold water on my body was accompanies by a groan (from me) and a clap from outside the door from the audience (or rather hear-ience right now).
Locking the door, looking at the pleased Elmo walking towards his home, I sat on my bike. Praying to god that the bike was in good mood today and starts in the first kick. It was a good day for the bike and within no time I was zooming on the pot-holed roads. More than once I managed to get on the foot path to avoid a slow moving truck or a auto. I felt like I was on cloud nine, when I found the railway gate barring my way. I panicked looking at my watch, and instead of waiting for the train I took off from below the railway gates. Thats when my saner mind realized the train was rushing towards me. There was a lots of gasps and sparks of brake while I was standing on the railway tracks stupefied. The driver managed to stop the train, came down shaking his hand and was about to blast me when he saw my ID card. A smile came on his face, and told me that he had a nephew in the same company and was aware of the early-morning plight. With a Fatherly tap on my shoulders, he helped me accross the other gate. As I was starting my bike again, I heard him say something about my coworkers plight and some of the other drivers nodded in empathy.
Having managed to defy death once, I was on cloud ten. I felt has if Yama-raja himself was riding on as a pillion on my bike and clearing the traffic. I entered the campus where there was an atmosphere of finish line of Marathon World Championship. There were people with flags of various divisions in ATD. I caught the glimse of couple of bookies and people placing bets. There were horns and drums and lot of cheering and booing. The big clock in front of the office was showing 2 minutes to deadline. I braked behind a parked car, and in one swoop locked the bike and pulled down the stand. I was running towards the swipe gates when I realised that I had blocked the way for the man in the car who wanted to take it away. I signalled him to wait for few seconds.
I ran towards the swipe gate, when couple of security guards brought me water bottle and lime to replinish my lost salts. I drank a bit and put rest of teh water over my head to cool it. I was very near the swipe gate and I swiped it, with 30 seconds to spare.
Suddenly there was a lot of firecrackers and even more people coming to congratulate me. A broad smile on my face told the world how glad I was. First a drop of water fell on my face, from my hair I guess. But then there came a bottle full of it.
I opened my eyes. I was still on my bed and my wife with a water bottle in hand, was telling me something about getting late again for office.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
[Book Review] To Sir, With Love
One sinister backdrop: Prejudice.
One slum-ish neighbourhood.
One dark skinned teacher in a troubled school.
And one hope: the young minds.
How does one feel when a person who is qualified, trained and intelligent as an engineer (in a society where there was lot of demand for such qualifications), one does not get a job due to the color of his skin? How does one feel when you feel the hatred in a restaurant, in the bus, in a Taxi cab and on the road? How does one feel when infact this hatred is supposed to NOT EXIST as the british society is supposedly liberal?
This book is based on experiences of the author E. R. Braithwaite, a person of African origin in post-war London. He is well-educated and hopeful of getting a good job after being de-mobilised from RAF after WW-2. Instead he has to take up a teaching job in one of the poorer schools of the city. This school is for those children who have had a discipline problems in earlier schools. The children are as prejudiced as the their parents who live near-by.
The children are determined to mis-behave. It does not matter to them whether the teacher is a white or a black. But in case of the author, coming from the mindset of being treated badly, the indiscipline is even more difficult to handle. As the story progresses, the author not only manages to 'cure' the indiscipline, but also make the children a better human being. The children show an unexpected attitude towards unshackling the bonds of narrow thinking and also try to teach their parents a lesson or two.
There are also a couple of side-stories: Tension and dramatic politics between various teachers, romance between the author and one of the fellow teacher. But the author does not allow these side stories to derail the flow of the main theme.
Why is this story relevant to us? Today in india we face a similar situation. Officially and legally we dont have any caste-system in our society. But reservations for one and upper-caste egotism for another have been causes of strong under-current within the society. There are regular allegation of one party being victimised by the other which is the cause of social tension. The situation is not very much different than what is faced by the author, although in India all parties feel victimized.
This book gives hope to those in India who think that things will change with coming to next generations if enough is done. It is possible to wipe out the prejudices entrenched in the society if the children are given correct guidance.
I hope we have more and more teachers who think along the lines of the author. Amen.
One slum-ish neighbourhood.
One dark skinned teacher in a troubled school.
And one hope: the young minds.
How does one feel when a person who is qualified, trained and intelligent as an engineer (in a society where there was lot of demand for such qualifications), one does not get a job due to the color of his skin? How does one feel when you feel the hatred in a restaurant, in the bus, in a Taxi cab and on the road? How does one feel when infact this hatred is supposed to NOT EXIST as the british society is supposedly liberal?
This book is based on experiences of the author E. R. Braithwaite, a person of African origin in post-war London. He is well-educated and hopeful of getting a good job after being de-mobilised from RAF after WW-2. Instead he has to take up a teaching job in one of the poorer schools of the city. This school is for those children who have had a discipline problems in earlier schools. The children are as prejudiced as the their parents who live near-by.
The children are determined to mis-behave. It does not matter to them whether the teacher is a white or a black. But in case of the author, coming from the mindset of being treated badly, the indiscipline is even more difficult to handle. As the story progresses, the author not only manages to 'cure' the indiscipline, but also make the children a better human being. The children show an unexpected attitude towards unshackling the bonds of narrow thinking and also try to teach their parents a lesson or two.
There are also a couple of side-stories: Tension and dramatic politics between various teachers, romance between the author and one of the fellow teacher. But the author does not allow these side stories to derail the flow of the main theme.
Why is this story relevant to us? Today in india we face a similar situation. Officially and legally we dont have any caste-system in our society. But reservations for one and upper-caste egotism for another have been causes of strong under-current within the society. There are regular allegation of one party being victimised by the other which is the cause of social tension. The situation is not very much different than what is faced by the author, although in India all parties feel victimized.
This book gives hope to those in India who think that things will change with coming to next generations if enough is done. It is possible to wipe out the prejudices entrenched in the society if the children are given correct guidance.
I hope we have more and more teachers who think along the lines of the author. Amen.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Urbanization: First for solving it
Here is a sample of 3 cities in Maharashtra, India and state of infrastructure.
Counter Intuitive? May be. But true.
| City | Population | Water | Load Shedding |
| Sangli | 800 thousand | Once a day, enough | 2 hours per day, scheduled |
| Malkapur | 200 thousand | Once in 6 days, not enough | 2 hours per day, scheduled and sometimes unscheduled |
| Pune | 5 million | Twice a day, more than enough including wastage | Never |
Counter Intuitive? May be. But true.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
I wish it was a dream
Strong wind blows across my face. Wind that was threatening to make me fly. Not that I bothered. I was sitting on the rock, shoes on my side looking down into the cliff. It was a tough climb, 2 days long. 2 days in bright sun yet lots of solitude. The daily routine was behind me. At last I knew where I was going. I knew my destination. It was such a relief to forget everything and push for that one goal.
What was it that I saw in the abyss? Not surely my achievements. Not even my money I made. Nor was it people I had helped. All I saw the futility of life. A wasted life. And what made it worse was that even now I could not see what else I could have done. Everything and everybody being a wasted thing. Things like a yo-yo.. turning round and round, neither achieving anything nor breaking down.
What was it which was worse. Seeing through things that money and achievement did not matter in the end? Or was it not having found anything else to replace the worldly things?
Or was it going through the highs feeling guilty of not having done something better? Or was it going troughs feeling guilty of not overcome the grief?
Was it being conscious enough of seeing through the futility of things and not being conscious enough of noticing the higher goal?
Yet the feeling of the wind on the face is beautiful. The dark clouds above shade the fiery sun. And I am away from grind. I have reached my goal. Its ecstatic.
Yet, I wish its a dream. I wish it was a dream.
What was it that I saw in the abyss? Not surely my achievements. Not even my money I made. Nor was it people I had helped. All I saw the futility of life. A wasted life. And what made it worse was that even now I could not see what else I could have done. Everything and everybody being a wasted thing. Things like a yo-yo.. turning round and round, neither achieving anything nor breaking down.
What was it which was worse. Seeing through things that money and achievement did not matter in the end? Or was it not having found anything else to replace the worldly things?
Or was it going through the highs feeling guilty of not having done something better? Or was it going troughs feeling guilty of not overcome the grief?
Was it being conscious enough of seeing through the futility of things and not being conscious enough of noticing the higher goal?
Yet the feeling of the wind on the face is beautiful. The dark clouds above shade the fiery sun. And I am away from grind. I have reached my goal. Its ecstatic.
Yet, I wish its a dream. I wish it was a dream.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Quest for Perfection
A dark room. Visible in the flames of the gas stove is a pressure cooker, which is obviously kept there for cooking, and a slightly stocky figure sitting on the sofa (slouching would have been more accurate). It was late in the evening, and Santosh was cooking his dinner at his home. Today he wanted to be in the dark. Darkness helps to ignore the immediate surroundings along with the emotions attached to it. Darkness means pensive brooding.
Brooding about, where he was and what had become of him. Known as "Sant" during his graduation days mainly as a shortened version of his name, it was not very indicative of his nature. He was known as an intellectual but without a philosophical bent to his mind. His philosophy began and ended with how money can solve all the problems of the world. Knowledge was important to him, but only as long at it provided good remuneration. He was intelligent and had made into a good job profile even before graduation. He waited for the first salary; waited eagerly for the drought to end, drought of money.
On the stove, the pressure cooker was still cool but soon it will be hotter.
He arrived in Mumbai, the financial capital of India, with a job in hand and dream in his eyes. This was his first job and his expectations were high. The job met his expectations, but his meager salary did not. The same salary which felt like a lot before was not enough for even meeting his bare necessities. He had already seeped in the spirit of Mumbai. This was the city which never slept, cared for money, worshiped money. Nothing else mattered to these citizens of the great city. He knew he deserved better than living in non-AC hotels, traveling in the smelly public transport. And he knew that a degree from a good B-school was the solution to all his problems, the only avenue to achieve a decent-standard living. A car, a house in a good locality and enough money to spare for little pleasures was all he wanted. He didn't know it then, but he had slowly but surely started the descent into an abyss, at the bottom of which lay a quicksand, sucking in more than life of a person.
The pressure cooker was hot now. Inside, the steam was getting generated, creating pressure, crushing anything which it could engulf.
Fast forward 2 years. Admit from the top B-School had made him an overnight hero among his friends and relatives. He never lost his cool in all the excitement and he never lost sight of his aim. Once out with a diploma from the B-School he would have enough money to satisfy all his needs. Heaven was just a step away. He could feel the tension build within him. He could feel disconnection from people around him, those who were congratulating him. Obviously this was the 'high' of success. Soon the world would be his and he would have all he had wanted for so long.
The pressure cooker indicated the first warning by letting out a little steam out of the valve. Now the pressure was reaching the maximum and rice had started cooking. However, Santosh was too busy thinking.
Forward 2 more years in B-School. Shanty, as he was now known, was one of the top students there. He had chosen to major in Finance, obviously because that was what paid the most. Every pat on the back, every competition won was making him happier, taking him closer to his goal. He could still remember his first blazer and the first major presentation. He had won the accolades of the judges, an offer in one of the big investment banks and a six figure salary to go with it. Now he would live in luxury, travel would mean star-hotel-hopping and he could afford to drive his own car. The world could not get better, he had thought. He knew now what a delusion it was, but the realization had come a few years too late.
A full whistle, the way of pressure cooker telling you that the food is cooked and the flame should be reduced sooner or later. If you want a perfectly cooked food, that is. However Santosh was in no mood to heed to these indications.
"Mumbai is the right candidate to be called 'the city of joy'" thought Shanty, entering into the office. He had arrived in a posh car although not the best in town and neither chauffeur driven. But that is just a matter of time, he thought. He awaited eagerly for his first assignment to show-off in the office and for the first pay check to show off to the city of Mumbai. He had plans to celebrate the first pay with style. But then came the first disappointment in ages. He realized that he was not the best among the lot, it was tough work to impress his bosses and that his pay did not go too far for his style and neither did his current salary give him the luxury of owning a house, in a so called 'decent' locality, that is. Now started the grueling phase of life. Long hours in office was a necessity. Weekends at office were expected. And though Shanty was enjoying his work, he started missing his home. It had been many months since he could visit his parents. But then came the promotion which came along with a good hike in salary. His long hours at office were gratified. Now he was on the fast elevator. Finally he could afford a house and also marriage, perhaps. Life is perfect, he had thought.
A second full whistle. This is when the rice is completely cooked and it is time to take the cooker off the flames. But this is only if somebody is listening and understands the signal. Santosh understood the signal, but was not listening. He was too busy and buried in his thoughts.
A new house in a middle class suburb, a new car and a new wife. Life was idyllic for 2-3 months after marriage. Working 'normal' hours in office was so relaxing. So is spending romantic time in the evening. Surely, people used to comment on how marriage had changed Shanty, but he never took them seriously. And one fine evening, his boss came into the cubicle and requested some report to be submitted early morning next day. That day was the first late-night since marriage and it felt awful. He vowed not to let it happen again. But this was start of eventual descent into chaos. Initially he stayed late nights only when there were urgent requests from his boss. Then, as he received a hint from a senior that his pay hike and promotion may be affected due to 'regular' hours, he started staying late nights a few times a week. His wife showed her displeasure but was satisfied when he had assured her that it was only a temporary solution till he got a promotion.
The rice was over boiled now and the pressure cooker was silent, having been exhausted much of its water.
Another promotion with a fat bonus this time. The late nights had paid off. It was party time. No more over-working, thought Santosh. He will get a big hike along with guaranteed career at this level. However world is crazy. His bonus was spent within one month for the down payment for the new bigger car. He had never felt the need for the bigger car, but soon a well wisher commented, "Come-on, now you are a manager, you should not come in that filthy small car. You should go for one of those big German cars." Santosh knew that status was very important in his business. The more success is seen by others, more the people respect you. And more the people respect you, the better it is for your career. Now, the hike was being poured into the car EMI and some more in the petrol. And he had to take more loan for renovating the home. The irony of the promotion was that Santosh was now more precariously placed than before the promotion. Life should have been perfect then, but...
The pressure cooker had even stopped seething. It was as if it had lost all hopes of being rescued from the heat.
One fine day, Santosh friend cum colleague came up with a plan. He had seen a land for sale. It was in a decent locality and this was a golden chance to own a beautiful house. The total cost will be much less than the prices in that locality. Santosh was tempted to invest. However soon he realized that he could not afford it with its present situation. Disappointed he was. However his friend suggested a way out and Santosh readily agreed. The hike was due anytime. Santosh just had to live on tight budget till the bonus and the hike turned up. Deal was done and now Santosh was in Cloud 9. Finally, he would have a house in a good locality which can be boasted of. So what if he had to stay on tight budget for some time. His wife understood although she was strained. Things were hoped to be getting better with the hike.
There comes a stage when the pressure cooker is silent and outwardly the appearance is cool. However internally new stress is being built, environment is being heated. It is like an eye of the storm. Calm before the worst winds. Perfect landscape before the worst damage.
Time for hike came and went. Not aware of the financial turbulence which was only about to begin, Santosh got first frustrated and then depressed over his financial situation. He was neck deep in loan which seemed more like a quicksand. The more he moved, the more he seemed to be drowning. The more he worried about finances, the more his performance dropped. The more his performance dropped, the more he had to stay in office. It had now become a habit to stay late-night in office, sometimes pull all-nighters. Meanwhile the situation in the global market was becoming more and more precarious with each passing day. The strain reached its breaking point. Estrangement of an already strained relationship is easy to happen in such times. Story seemed so familiar. Some of the vices he had picked up in the journey also got exaggerated.
The day came when big things were to happen. A minor disagreement degrading into major issue big enough to consider separation resulted into his wife leaving home. Getting into office late, Santosh found the office in disarray. A sudden decision had been made by the company in a desperate move to save itself by cutting costs. With degraded performance over past few months, Santosh was first one to become redundant. It was today that everything had happened. He felt like crying. He felt the loneliness. He felt helpless. And then, suddenly there was a loud noise... and a revelation.
Red-hot cooker on the stove suddenly found safety. The safety valve burst leading to a big noise and spilling the rice on the ceiling. Although the noise was big, it saved the cooker from further damage.
Big noise does not always mean big damage.
Monday, January 19, 2009
POP3 Anonymous
This had to come. People believed for long that POP3 was forever. People believed that POP3 was an undeniable fundamental right. But they were proved wrong. We were proven wrong.
This group is formed for us, by us, to help us. It is for those who are addicted to POP3. Its to support those who are addicted to POP3. Come lets share our pain. Lets handle the WITHDRAWAL SYMPTOMS together.
It may help to know, for those who are as yet in denial, that life can go on without POP3. Remember, there was a time a few decades ago when POP3 was non-existant. Yet people went on with there lives and were successful too. The denial is mainly due to the myths which a POP3 enthusiast holds close to his/her heart. These have been proven wrong again and again by those people of the past decades including those successful people who ended up designing POP3. POP3 does not improve productivity. POP3 does not help in arranging the emails. POP3 does not force us to use the archiac ActiveX based UI of an web application. These are all myths.
What does POP3 denial means really? It means freedom. It means freedom from checking your outlook so-frequently. It means spending that boring time trying to download some document, while you would rather spend it on coding/working. It means you can do less in more time.
It means, more people are required to do same amount of job. It means employment. This is important especially in todays economic situation. May be one of your unemployed friend has a job because of POP3 denial. Its not bad, really!.
So we welcome all to this club which will help you handle the pain of the withdrawal symptom. It was harsh on those who have been using it for past few years, but we had the signs that this was coming. So, lets work together for getting over the denial syndrome and work towards alternative lifestyle without POP3. Lets make the world happier place without POP3. Welcome ALL!
This group is formed for us, by us, to help us. It is for those who are addicted to POP3. Its to support those who are addicted to POP3. Come lets share our pain. Lets handle the WITHDRAWAL SYMPTOMS together.
It may help to know, for those who are as yet in denial, that life can go on without POP3. Remember, there was a time a few decades ago when POP3 was non-existant. Yet people went on with there lives and were successful too. The denial is mainly due to the myths which a POP3 enthusiast holds close to his/her heart. These have been proven wrong again and again by those people of the past decades including those successful people who ended up designing POP3. POP3 does not improve productivity. POP3 does not help in arranging the emails. POP3 does not force us to use the archiac ActiveX based UI of an web application. These are all myths.
What does POP3 denial means really? It means freedom. It means freedom from checking your outlook so-frequently. It means spending that boring time trying to download some document, while you would rather spend it on coding/working. It means you can do less in more time.
It means, more people are required to do same amount of job. It means employment. This is important especially in todays economic situation. May be one of your unemployed friend has a job because of POP3 denial. Its not bad, really!.
So we welcome all to this club which will help you handle the pain of the withdrawal symptom. It was harsh on those who have been using it for past few years, but we had the signs that this was coming. So, lets work together for getting over the denial syndrome and work towards alternative lifestyle without POP3. Lets make the world happier place without POP3. Welcome ALL!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)