Save the laptop? Naah, save the White Tiger!


The Daily Post asked me if I remembered anything from yesterday’s writing prompt, which was focused on fire.

Remember this prompt, when your home was on fire and you got to save five items? That means you left a lot of stuff behind. What are the things you wish you could have taken, but had to leave behind?

Unfortunately, WordPress dearest, I did not have the time to write yesterday. Anyway, now that you’ve given me a second chance, I’ll tell you about it all.

What would I save first of all? There’s no thinking to it… my laptop goes first. Always.

My poor little lappy has been suffering from all sorts of attacks since a few days. I got to know that two of my USB ports weren’t working, and took them to the place where I bought my Dell laptop.

“Hello sir, I think two of my USB ports aren’t working…”

“Oh, worry not, dear customer! I know that it is just a software problem. Just pay me 350 rupees, and your laptops USB ports will be as good as new.”

“Software, you say?”

“Ah, yes. And we also check for other stuff in your system.”


“Do visit us in the evening to collect your laptop.”


That evening, they had told me that they had made everything right, and I was more than happy to hear the positive news. Now nothing could go wrong… except everything.

The moment I came home and checked, I was sure of it. I wanted to call those people right away…  and yell at them, but resisted. The ports were not working, not one of the damaged two. And they had told me everything was alright.

But there was always the third USB port for me, so I didn’t take my laptop to them again, and life went on… until one fine day, my laptop decided to show me something out of the ordinary. My lappy knows that I like seeing new stuff.

It suddenly stopped working and showed me a navy-bluish screen that had some scary looking stuff written on it. It told me that my hard disk space was full, and I had no memory space left in my lappy. And that was enough to make me fumble with all the keys to make my computer do something. But alas, it did not change its screen one bit.

And finally I came up with something. I pressed the power button like a ninja till it had no other option but to shut down. And it finally did shut down. But d’you know what happened when I restarted it?

It did not utter a single thing.

And I checked the space in the C drive, where all my programs had huddled together. And I was shocked.

It said that there was 30GB free space.

Now I was speechless. Had I been dreaming all along?

But however, everything was okay and all I had to do was to continue doing my stuff… and I didn’t bother much with it because I felt that the Bluestacks thing I had uninstalled could’ve made a bit of space in my system. But I was still suspicious… even though uninstalling the useless app (which doesn’t anyway work in my laptop for reasons that only my lappy would know) would amount for a considerable freeing of memory, it could make space for only about a few GB. It’s 30 free-memory-king GB I’m dealing with here.

But I decided to carry on nevertheless…. until I noticed that the memory space in my C drive was fast filling up. Again. And I didn’t bother to take it seriously until I got the same blue screen error the second time. And this time, after seeing 30 GB of free memory, I decided enough was enough, and took the patient to his doc.

And my lappy’s doc told me that it was all because of a virus. He told me that using a free version antivirus is not very beneficial… although I have to highly disagree on this. Avast was such a smartie! It detected and blocked many threats for me until I had used it… which had been only about a month.

As he recommended K7 antivirus for about 450 rupees and another 350 for service, and because I thought he might know his stuff, I handed him the 800 easily.

And yesterday… I noticed something interesting. Something the laptop guy couldn’t have guessed.

I realized the space in my C drive was slowly filling up… again. So… isn’t it better for you to burn, lappy dearest? I might as well get myself a new one.

My laptop wrinkles its cyber-whiskers in extreme fear.

“Burn, baby burn!” Into ashes. So that I can get rid of them in a river. (But the fact is… I wouldn’t be able to do this for real. I’m way too deep in love with it to do this to it)

But oh look! The house’s burning down! Let’s get some stuff out,eh?

I’d better get a few nice stuff from my closet… or maybe not, because I can’t think of anything “nice” existing in there. Anyway, I’m out, mum’s out, dad’s out. What else do I need?

White Tiger

Maybe my little pet white tiger Kipper… poor thing, how could I have forgotten about him? He was my best friend in my childhood days… er.. still is! Who wouldn’t want to save their sweet little white tiger from the fire?

It might sadden you to know this, but Kipper is actually a stuffed toy. I didn’t want to erase the great picture off your mind, but I’m not Miss Brave anyway.

So Kipper, here I come!


A five-century-old love story

Strangely, the name ‘Botticelli’ had been echoing in my mind relentlessly since a few weeks. There were other painters like him, too who lived in the exact age as he did like Michelangelo and Leonardo Da Vinci. Yet, I keep thinking of this guy, just because I found his love-story unique. There are many theories about the identity of the beautiful lady in all of his paintings… and the most legit-seeming and romantic answer seems to be… Simonetta Vespucci, ‘The Beauty Queen’ of her age in Florence. She is rumoured to be unrivalled in terms of beauty, but the poor woman died at an early age – at about 22 years old. Sad, isn’t it?

The Birth of Venus – Sandro Botticelli: Wikimedia Commons

Unearthing a five-century-old love story seems exciting enough, and so I see that people want to believe that it’s Simonetta who was in his paintings. Botticelli had also willed himself to be buried along with her upon death – which is evidence enough for many historians that he was in love. This passionate story is something that I could not find in Leonardo’s and Michelangelo’s lives – they’re rumoured to be homosexuals, which is even proved in the case of the latter from his own poems – but the duo were better researchers and liked to exhume corpses and stuff to study the human anatomy in detail.

Portrait of Simonetta Vespucci – painted by Botticelli
-Taken from the Wikimedia Commons-

But Botticelli? He looks more like a man of love, to me… he looks like he lived for Simonetta, for, he had never painted any other woman after he had laid his eyes on her. Even after her death, she is seen in numerous paintings of his. She died in 1476, and yet, Botticelli’s works that came much, much later contained her portraits only, when it came to painting a woman. Many historians call it the face of a nymph which Botticelli might have used, but there’s no proof for anything, is there? Sure, Michelangelo seemed to have some woman as his ‘friend’ later in his life who meant a great deal to him, but it didn’t look like they really had an affair or something, though Michelangelo is said to have regretted not kissing her on her face. And Leonardo… man, I wish I could just listen to his brilliant theories and lectures – research was his only wife, and that is pretty much obvious to all of us.

Now, one thing that keeps me confused is the question ‘how did all the men of Florence try to get to her when Simonetta was married?’ ‘Was Marco, her rightful husband, really weak?’ And there seems to be no good answers for questions like these… and is left to speculation by the addled minds of the masses. If Marco was really a dedicated husband, he would have never allowed the ‘great fighting tournament whose winner would get Simonetta’ from happening. After all, she was his wife, was she not?

Yet, the ruling Medici brothers seemed to approach her…

Yet, the youngest Medici won her by winning the jousting tournament…

No one knows what happened after that. This is when Botticelli comes to my mind. He is never mentioned at all at this point, because, let’s face it: a painter, however romantic he wanted to be, could not afford to fight powerful men. He could only paint a portrait of her and stand undetected in a corner of the crowd.

I wonder what he would have felt when the lady of his dreams was ‘won’ by someone else… by someone he knew and respected. Would he have not shown any feelings at all? Alas, news of Botticelli’s every reaction cannot survive the ages, and here I am, thinking of what poor Botticelli would have done that very day.

 This site discusses about Botticelli’s legendary love story, which could be true, and which was an inspiration or this blog post. Of course, men all over Florence would have given a similar reaction, and I’m probably being apathetic towards them right now, but I don’t know them well enough to think from their perspective. I can only empathize with Botticelli, because, let’s face it: he’s famous, and I can know only about him. Yet… the fact that he declared to be buried along with her seems to be telling something about his unending love even decades after the Beauty Queen of Florence passed away…

Alessandro Filipepi. Sandro Botticelli. A name so fine. A name of love. A name that bore the title ‘very fine painter of the Italian Renaissance era’ along with two of his peers, Michelangelo and Leonardo.

Yet… he’s different.

 And love made all the difference.

On the go…


Right now, I’m travelling… on a bus… homeward bound… from college.

Mom will be anticipating me to reach correctly for dinner, and I’m going to be on time for dinner, as always. And right now, getting an ideal chatting partner would be lovely, though I have already got a very nice person beside me to chat. In fact, even now, she’s chatting  with me.

And now, since I have a little charge in my laptop, and since there was nothing better to do, I thought I’d open my laptop and login to my blog. And what do we have here? The Daily Post asks me: What person whom you don’t know very well in real life — it could be a blogger whose writing you enjoy, a friend you just recently made, etc. — would you like to have over for a long chat in which they tell you their life story?

And now, this woman’s stop is going to come, and she’s going to get down. And I will be all alone… or maybe not, because there’s another woman beside her, who also talked to me, and might consider chatting more. You see, it takes almost two freaking hours to reach home from college, and most of the time, I’m all alone. Most of the time, I do not get chatter-women as my seat-mates and most of the time, there’s no charge left in my laptop. But yesterday and today were certainly not ‘most of the time’; I was lucky enough to get lovely chatting women as my seat-mates.

But who would I call my ‘ideal’ seat-mate, you ask, do you not, Daily Post dearest?

That person is non-existent. Let’s call him/her X. Let’s make it ‘him’, because I find guys fascinating. Let’s call him ‘X’.

X likes to wander wherever his legs take him, Now and again, he goes trekking on the mount Dottabetta, and he’s once visited the Himalayas, too! And he has a warm smile that’s inviting just like the woman beside me(because I need at least that much to approach a person for a chat), and he thinks he has room for one more to accompany him in his adventures.bus-157723_640

He wanders off into the forests every now and then. He knows Italian. He makes cool electronic stuff with a few transistors and things. He’s a computer geek and knows Javascript and PHP — which I do not know. He has programmed a desktop software and a web app once. And he shoots like a professional killer. X knows swimming, to rollerskate, to do all things of the crazy sort.

And the most important thing: he likes to teach all these to someone.

“And that’s enough, Mr. X. Please do sit beside me and teach me all the stuff that I can learn from you. And I’d be very, very interested to join you in your adventures, now that I know that there’s room for one more.”

And to this question, my ideal chatter seat-mate would say ‘yes!’ And that is all I need!

Alright! I’m almost home. I need to get off the bus in a few minutes, and it’s 8 pm already. I’d better stop thinking of non-existent thrilling stuff and get back to the reality that awaits.

Our final year project

DSCH software window.

The Daily Post had been asking us: Do you have a good friend or close relative with whom you disagree on a major issue (political, personal, cultural)? What’s the issue, and how do you make the relationship work?

Three students can do a project together.

We got that as a notice, and it was final. We were hoping that five of us could do a project together, because the last time we all gave a seminar together, it turned out very good except for the part where I messed things up and we thought we’d all be in this together again, but no. They had said that only a maximum of three students could do a project together.

We never thought about one or two of us doing it alone… if three’s the maximum limit, then three members we will be. And so, we began hunting for one more member so we could split ourselves into three (although my friends told me strictly not to be very kind and invite the girl beside me over, because she doesn’t work at all… I’d taken a seminar with her before and I knew it, so I agreed, even if it was rather reluctantly). We were last benchers — something I’m proud of, even now. Three of us from the last bench (Me, D and G) and two from the second-last(B and N). And we knew that the four girls of the third bench who always stuck together had to sacrifice one anyway to some team, so we asked them, and M from the third-from-the-last bench said she’d join us.

And we were all set — six girls, ready to split in two teams.

You see, the adage ‘birds of a feather flock together’ had been so right. I never knew myself, D and G fit in so well until later… B and N were really good friends (more like the studying sort, completely different from us back-benchers) yet we were sure that everything will be okay.

Myself, D and G had thought of forming a group. After all, we were of the same bench! But the intelligent D, thinking that we won’t be able to concentrate on our project if we work with our close friends, decided that she will not work with G. (Although myself and D were not a safe combination as well)… and it so happened that after a week or two… everything was decided. Myself, D and B, who resides in front of my house, were a team. D reasoned that it would be perfect for me to work with B because our houses were just a few feet away from each other, and only one person had to actually travel.

D is known for her intelligence, and after she gave such a solid reason, all of us felt it was a wonderful plan. And so, G joined with N and M. And we were all set. Both our teams had gone early before the other teams and had chosen the same professor to guide us. And both teams had chosen VLSI as our domain, and our professor even began talking to us about the topics that he could assist us with, about whatever topic we had to select in VLSI.

We had decided to choose the topic later, as we had been studying VLSI only then, and knew nothing about the subject. We had formed teams so early because of the pressure from our HOD. But after this semester, we all came back to our professor and pondered over the topics yet again… and our team chose to so something with ‘LDPC codes’, while the other team was undecided. After the semester holidays, our team had arrived at a solid decision: ‘to construct an adder circuit using LDPC codes’, while the other team was contemplating if they’ll also take LDPC codes as their topic. We were really all set this time. Both our teams got ourselves pdfs related to the basics of ‘LDPC codes’ and began studying, because our professor had said that we had to study a lot about these codes, ’cause we didn’t know anything about these yet.

And D and G(from the other team) and myself promised him we’d work hard. Everything was finally set for us…. or so we’d thought.

While we were in the midst of this, B, our team-mate(the girl next door) abruptly said that we had to actually leave everything to a project center and take it easy. Now D and myself were people who didn’t spend money just like that (and mind you, a project in a project center costs approximately 15,000 rupees, meaning I had to give 5,000 rupees away to some group of people because I just didn’t feel like doing my project)… they’d do everything for you… from preparing PPTs to teaching you how to answer the questions you’re asked in your project reviews, they do it all. You don’t even need to know what you’re doing… just mug up what they ask you to, and spit it out in the reviews, and you’ll be all good.

Apparently, D, G and myself did not like this idea. N didn’t like it too, because she’s kind of frugal.

And with only B in our team rooting adamantly for taking our project to the project center, we began making frequent calls to each other and quarrelling in the phone. B was very, very firm that she would NOT give up. But after she knew that she really couldn’t do anything, because she was practically asking the majority of the team to adjust with her, and on top of that, asking us to pay ridiculous amounts for what could be done for free… and going against our wishes. There really wasn’t any other option for her but to shut herself up and co-operate with us, really. Then, she thought of doing the project alone, in some software company (not because of us, mind you… external projects are highly valued, and she thought of trying her luck, but alas..)… but it seemed that it wasn’t really possible, and she came back to us.

And so, we began working on LDPC codes, and we thought we were finally stable now, and everything was really, really set! We were about to do our project!

That was when B came up with something other than a project center… she told us that she’d heard that one of our classmates did a project based on an IEEE paper and finished it within a week! My jaw hung at that. Back then, I didn’t know there was this method in which students simply picked up a base paper and just placed a few extra transistors over it and told the world that they had modified it and bam, the project would be over. I and D despised the idea… we were girls who believed we need to put a little bit of effort in what we did. Though I’m lazy in many ways, I wanted to actually know what I was doing.

But B thought otherwise.

And so, the dispute started… about which project we were going to take up. D and myself were firm since day 1 about the project, but B kept oscillating… and we didn’t quite like it. In fact, it was much more than ‘not liking’… we were… we were… furious…

Let’s just say that we didn’t have many a pleasant conversation after that.

B in our team and N in theirs, both were fixed on IEEE based projects now. Both were a good pair back in the second-last bench, and we three last benchers felt it was a mistake trying to split ourselves. After all, we three had craved to continue LDPC, but it wasn’t even possible to change teams right now. It was too late.

I thought we would never end up doing what B says, because, she was just the minority. In their group though, G was the only one who was like us, so theirs didn’t have a chance, but we still had. We both (the majority) wanted to continue what we had just started. I knew that poor B had to give up.

Many lovely conversations, and a few days later…

We had come down to B’s plan. She was so firm that she said “I will come only if you people do that one.” And we two didn’t have an answer for that. Sure, we both were tougher girls, and we could definitely fight better, but we thought that instead of spending months together quarrelling with each other, it was best to finish it soon. We were not keen on spending a lot of time with her.

Though B had a valid reason of suggesting all that (that we have to get out of town and back everyday this semester for classes, and we wouldn’t find enough time to do this), I still didn’t like the way she thought everything should be done the way she says. I’m a very adjusting person, and if she probably requested me, I would’ve been with her in this.

But what’s done is done, and we are back to being friends, ’cause I cannot be that way with anyone for long. But D hates her now, for all B’s done to achieve this. And even when I talk to D about B, her despise is so contagious that I speak a few words behind B’s back, like how adamant she is. I feel it’s wrong, because I had thought that I, of all people, do not talk behind people’s backs, but this time, maybe I am proving that I’m also human, after all.

But anyway, I put on a smile and talk to her without any hate whenever I’m with her… and she smiles at me too, and things are almost normal… from the surface.

And things will always be so.

And we will finish our project soon.

Banned from DreamWorld!


The Daily Post used to give us daily prompts promptly at 6 or 7 o’ clock in the evening. Now, it’s eleven, and the prompt has arrived… rather not-so-promptly.

Today, we bloggers were asked: Let’s assume we do, in fact, use only 10% of our brain. If you could unlock the remaining 90%, what would you do with it?

Well… normally, all others use 10% of their brain, but I’m afraid I use only 3% of what the others use. Three percent of ten percent… that is, 0.3%. If a person who on average uses 0.3% of her brain is able to use 90% of her brain (I hope it does exist somewhere in the upper storey), then she would definitely try to overtake Bill Gates, will she not?

“Five… four… three… two… one… preparing to land…”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Welcome to your destination… DreamWorld.”

I’d have been owning some company called ‘Nanosoft Corporation,’ and Bill Gates would have been casting his envious eyes upon my wonderful, gargantuan building that would pay twice the amount Microsoft employees are paid. Wherever you walk into my Nanosoft Corporation building, you’ll find fully solved Rubik’s cubes lying around in every corner. And you might find a few Calculus sheets lying here and there, too. I tend to be messy and lazy most of the time at times.

My to-be dream corporation -- Nanosoft group of companies.

My to-be dream corporation — Nanosoft group of companies.

And if you visit my house, you might find paintings similar to that of Leonardo Da Vinci… okay, perhaps with not exactly the same brilliancy as his paintings have, but something similar… After all, that genius is said to have applied science to his paintings to make them look mesmerizing. The portrait of Mona Lisa is a very good example… her smile looks mysterious because he is said to have applied an illusion method in his painting to make the portrait look as if she’s smiling whenever the viewer is not directly looking at the celebrated figure. If I could apply much more than Leonardo himself, then perhaps my paintings would be tenfold better?

My version of the Mona Lisa painting would be exactly like this one.

My version of the Mona Lisa painting would be exactly like this one.

Knock, knock!

This is when Reality knocks at my door. I crouch beside my door, away from the probing eyes of the devil and press myself tight to the door. I don’t want to face him right now. Not right away.

Knock, knock, knock!

“Who’s there?”

“Open up!”

“Is it Reality?”


“Then who?”


Wow. It was not Reality, after all. I jump up and down like a spring in a wrecked sofa, and finally get up.I slowly open my door out of curiosity. If it had not been Reality, then who was it? The new person from overseas, Miss Carefree Reverie, perhaps?

I get instantly greeted a cold bucket of water on my face.

“Whoa! What was that for, Mr. Rudeboy?!”

“I am anti-desire, and have come to wake you up from your dream. Though Reality has gone for a vacation to Antarctica, I often tap on silly brains of the lazy fellows and give them dosage that reminds them of their true self and to stop them from being an internet junkie.”

I shiver with the cold water seeping through my skin. I knew that the ‘internet junkie’ thing was aimed at me, but decide not to quarrel with him on that.“Why are you doing this to me, Mr. Rudeboy?”

He shrugs. “I’m just doing my job.”


“Just like WordPress has an anti-spamming facility, DreamWorld has an anti-desire-ing facility to make people realise they have better things to do in life than submerge themselves in greed.”

Oh right. “I’m glad they do. But what better things?”

The little Mr. Rudeboy gives me a disgusted look, and then gestures me to wait; oh good, he’d better show me what those “better things to do” were, because I already have a feeling I’m doing no”thing” with my life. Mr. Rudeboy’s fingers inch towards the shiny silver button on the side of my head.

Oh no!

Within a flash, Rudeboy moves forward and presses it, even before I could react and push him away from me. He had been the anonymous Mr. Dangerboy all the time, and I had just mistaken him for Mr. Rudeboy. My words wouldn’t come out of my larynx after I realized my end in this world was near. Deep cries erupt from the base of my throat, but die away before they reach my mouth.

Two milliseconds later…

I had been pulled out of DreamWorld and Rudeboy had me banned eternally from entering the fabulous world of dreamy WordPress daily prompts and fun bloggers. I was slowly falling, falling… into a fathomless hole… deep into something that could very well be a new universe

And I landed. And when I looked up and pivoted my neck, looking around, getting accustomed to the strange place where numerous paintings had been placed, a wave of recognition swept over me.

I was in the Louvre Museum.

I looked straight ahead and saw Mona Lisa smiling directly at me, although it seemed she wasn’t exactly smiling. Actually, she seemed to be mocking me. And for a split second, I felt as if her picture came alive and talked out loud: “Leonardo would have laughed at you, had he been alive.”

And I knew it. He would really have.

Whose poetry alone survived…


Yesterday, in Maria’s blog, I read a post in which she had written about John Keats. Intrigued, I googled a bit about his life and came back to write a post on him myself. I was inspired to write about him because life had nothing but hurdles to offer him, yet, he had accomplished a lot within the short span of his stay on earth, unlike many of us.

John Keats was born in the eighteenth century, and was the eldest of the four children his parents birthed. His father died when Keats was very young, leaving the family devastated. His mother, however, doesn’t seem like a woman who stuck to the moral etiquette, and didn’t stay around her children for long, either. She ran away from her family, leaving her children to be tended by her mother.

But when she later came back, she couldn’t stay with her children for long, because The Mass Killer of the olden times, tuberculosis, had got to her. This might have come to Keats as a heavy blow, but he continued studying. It must have been very hard for him, dealing with an unforgiving life… his parents dead, his siblings in need of care, himself all alone… but still, he wrote poems! He had a deep interest in the arts and architecture, and even after he left school to study surgery, his mind always kept coming back to poetry.

And he did write many poems.

He even managed to fall in love with a woman – Isbella Jones – and began writing sensual poems thinking of her, young as he was. And later, he fell in love with another woman – Frances Brawne – who would’ve become his wife, had he not died. When John and Frances were getting intimate, and were slowly but surely falling in love, life decided that John had lived long enough without any mishaps and there had to be something to interrupt his smooth going. And so, his brother, Tom Keats, fell sick… and life had succeeded in preventing Keats from enjoying life further, preventing him from being carefree.

Yet, his love towards Brawne had never once changed. He wrote her letters telling her how much she meant to him, but Tom Keats’ death had brought even more gloom into his life. Imagine having nursed a tuberculosis patient in vain. But she continued to be his distant dream, and he hers. As his health went down, Keats was advised by his doctor to go south and live in better climatic conditions, and so he went, leaving poor Brawne alone, but Rome did nothing to prevent his downfall. He lay in bed for many months, sick.

This site says: Keats’ agony was so severe that at one point he pressed his doctor and asked him, “How long is this posthumous existence of mine to go on?”

One fine day, he finally extricated himself from the mortal flesh that bound his poetic soul and floated towards the gates of heaven. And that marks the end of the 25-year old poetic celebrity. He had written about three volumes of text before he died. Could I be able to do that? Doubtful. But none of his work was popular back then. His books had starting being published only four years before his death… and he had sold only 200 books until he died. But a few decades later, people dug out his work and began appreciating them. Thus, his works were able to survive, though he was not.

Looking at biographies like these make me feel that I’m a freaking parasite living off my parents’ hard work, and more than that, it makes me guilty because I haven’t achieved anything yet in life. Even though Keats died at the tender age of 25, he had written so much that he could finally die in peace. His poems would one day find their way to the world packed with awed fanatics. But if I die tomorrow, I will die as a plain old ordinary South Indian who whiled off her time in the net. Not that I even have the eligibility to be compared with this genius, but I’m just trying to face the facts here.

Sources : Wikipedia and

Circuit connections?


The Daily Post had been asking the bloggers: Open your nearest book to page 82. Take the third full sentence on the page, and work it into a post somehow.

Forgive me, I linked this post to a wrong place and the ping-back thing had not appeared at all yesterday in wordpress… But now that I’ve noticed, I’ve changed the link…

The last time the Daily Post had asked me to look at a random sentence in a book, I had been lazy and took out an ebook, and wrote from that. I didn’t even have a book nearby. But today, however, I had a book at arm’s length. A very dangerous book, though — Linear Integrated Circuits, because I don’t even know what to write about it. Anyway, I hoped that I’d get some text about a transistor or something, and I’d write a little bit about it and somehow escape.

But do you know what I found on page number 82?

Circuits and equations

Page No. 82 of Linear Integrated Circuits, Second Edition, written by D. Roy Choudhry and Shail B. Jain

That’s right, I found this. I never expected something of this sort to pop up, given that I haven’t touched this book in years (then you must be asking why exactly this book was on my table? I really don’t know why I took it out… I kind of missed it a teeny weeny bit, maybe… but I never once opened it… and it lay there for weeks like that).

Now, let’s zoom in a bit before we start our story. I have a mobile that doesn’t have a camera (for now), and my mother’s phone has a basic camera, and I never once in my life enjoyed the high-definition-photography experience, so you might not be able to look at the above picture without hurting your eyes. I’ll take another picture of the thing I want you to see in the page — in a close-up view. With the same ol’ Nokia phone of my mother’s of course…

The circuit we're going to talk about.

The circuit we’re going to talk about.

So, here… I see three transistors in the circuit. Do you see them? They’re the little things that look like vessels that can hold water temporarily, to be simply put. You do see one transistor at the left, and the zig-zag line beside it, don’t you? Meet Res, the sweet li’l resistor and his step-mum. Two others are on the right side, and labelled Q2 (the lower one) and Q3 (the upper one). You might have a bit of difficulty spotting the letters in this photograph, because Nokia’s excellent in its own way, providing me security and privacy from the cyber-strangers that are my blog readers. After all, you cannot let strangers look at your photos… It’s smart, in its own way, but no one ever acknowledges it as a ‘smartphone’, my mother’s yellowy Nokia, while the other phones that disclose their master’s/mistress’ top secret photos clearly, giving no room for imagination, the poor unimaginative, traitors of the cellphone owners are often celebrated as the smart ones.

People keep on misunderstanding the non-touchscreen, less-than-2-mega-pixel-camera phones. After all, as they say, it’s not where’re you’re born. It’s about where you die, about how much you’ve accomplished on earth. And my phone is not dead yet, (third hand and working better than it’s touch-screen counterpart) and has lived on this earth for many years without diagnosis or treatment, unlike one of its young, touch-screen counterparts, which is right now in its coffin.

They say it’s of 2 MP — MP is for Mega Pressure, and is a measure of how much pressure the cellphone’s owner is likely to face. Other touch-screen devices cause much more Pressure to their masters and mistresses, for upto 8 MP, but at the end of the day, those stupid phones are the most celebrated ones. Strange are the ways of the world… Shutterstock photos don’t come with a watermark for nothing! Shutterstock knows how to protect its stuff… and so does my mother’s phone. Conceal is the new cool 😀

Anyway, I think I have lost my cute little transistor triplets while trying to defend my mother’s camera, because dear Q2 here is running towards Q1 (the one clever transistor in the left that did not disclose its name to you earlier).

“How could you do this to me, Q1? It was I who had given the brilliant idea of adopting the homeless little resistor, but how could you keep him all by yourself?”

“Do you want me to tear him down to two so that I can give you a half, now, Q2? Oh, come on! Grow up, don’t you!”

“I will never send you the divorce papers unless you promise me to give the poor li’l resistor back to me… after all, I wanted to have him first.”

“It’s not a matter of being first in doing something, Q2, it’s all about who Res needs right now. Even if you appeal to the court, I know that I’ll win the case. All judges are known for placing the child under their mother’s custody.”

“But you’re not his mother, Q1! We still have –“

“Stop bothering about me and get lost, Q2. Never ever stand in front of me again. Didn’t I tell you this already?”


“No Buts. You marry your darling Q3 as you had planned and have as many Resistors as you can with that stupid excuse of a transistor. Now leave.”

“But, I wasn’t –“

“Oh yes, you were.”

“I didn’t even mean –“

“Oh yes you did, Q2! There’s no point in defending yourself after you’ve come this far.”

“Mama!” cried the silent Resistor from beside.

“Oh, Resistor honey, I forgot to feed you! Wait a minute, I’ll switch on myself and allow the current to your side.”


“Oh, shut up, you traitor. Get away! Run to that deceitful Lady Q3 of yours.”

“Ma! Isn’t that supposed to be… um… Papa?”

“What’re you talking about, hon? There’s no such thing as that in this world. Who keeps teaching you nonsense?”

“There’s no such thing as Papa?”


“Then why does that transistor-man often visit this house? You aren’t having any illicit relationship with him, are you?”

“Air-headed Ungrateful Resistors be damned…”

“What did you say, Mama?”

“You look absolutely handsome in your new tri-color rings, honey!”

“That I am.”

Gleefully destroying the world


The Daily Post asked me to: Pick a contentious issue about which you care deeply — it could be the same-sex marriage debate, or just a disagreement you’re having with a friend. Write a post defending the opposite position, and then reflect on what it was like to do that.

Now-a-days, a few people who act as if the Earth cannot be a good place without their wisdom criticize people who litter the roads. But, what else have they done, except for asking people to keep the roads clean? Did they actually build us trash cans, or did they donate huge lumps of money just to keep the city clean?

Where is it in the time of need?

And seriously, if there’s not even a dustbin at sight, where do we throw the garbage? If I’m dealing with a chocolate wrapper here, I can very well take it home and throw it in the bin. But what if I’m out, travelling, and don’t see a single bin in sight? I’m travelling in the train, and I need to throw my used paper lunchbox away… where do I throw it? Do the railways maintain a trash can in every coach? I wonder if there’s ever one in a train.

So when people come and blame us in the end, telling us that we had been littering, they should’ve first realized that maintaining trash cans inside trains is very important before accusing the travellers of littering stuff.

Polythene covers have become part and parcel of shopping.

And the other thing people are always keen on making people avoid is… polythene covers. They ask others to use paper covers instead, but by using paper covers, do they even realize how many trees have been felled just to make the numerous amounts of bags that the shops would then hold if people were to switch from polythene covers? If people are so concerned about the impact of the plastic covers on the environment, they could always limit the usage of plastic covers.

Then, there are these deodorants, soaps, detergents, and other cleansing chemicals which actually affect the environment, but who actually doesn’t use any of these? Since I know of their impact, I do not use deodorants – that’s the only thing that I cannot use in this list. How else am I supposed to wash vessels and do the laundry if there was no cleansing detergent?

A wealthy person has all the rights to take their car wherever they go alone. If they have toiled hard and earned a lot, they might as well live a wealthy life. After all, what’s it going to benefit the world if just one person in the whole world tries to carpool? It’s not like everyone else is going to co-operate, anyway. And it’s not like the bus will be any comfortable. Buses have become the new method to test our patience, and bicycles have become a nuisance. So why bother?

Let’s just gleefully destroy the world and forget all about it after its destruction. I bet we’ll not be there, too.


I try not to use plastic covers, but today, I was able to look at the other thing that I hadn’t considered — and probably will not — consider much.. about paper covers. I am not going to think more about them because as far as I know, they are not being used much. I try to use eco-friendly notebooks, whose papers are made of baggage (sugarcane waste) instead of trees, and feel that if everybody does this, the trees can be safe. (Or can they? Because the whole world cannot purchase books made of sugarcane waste… the world’ll need a lot of sugarcane waste, then)… Alright. Maybe there’s an alternative for baggage out there. Or not. Buy whatever notebook you want to. At least buy one of those notebooks which promise a small share to the homeless if you’re not buying eco-friendly ones.

I do not litter unless I’m in a train, and in this part, I have spoken mainly of the thing that bothers me. After I took a new year resolution many years back, I stopped littering, but could not continue to do so during my train travels… so it was not actually something like defending the opposite side or something, but addressing my own problem.

And I never use deodorants… the main reason is that I don’t have the need, actually. I also happen to own a bicycle, and either use that, or go by walk. I even take the bus, at times… but I do not own any other of vehicle. I’m doing this because I can… and I don’t have any other vehicle, of course… because I live in a small town where cycling is common. So, I’d say that defending a person driving a car all alone didn’t delight me. I admit, I did not learn anything about how the other party (if one existed in a debate regarding this topic) feels, but I think that’s because I’m firm in my own beliefs. Or perhaps not.

Join me in this eco-friendly journey if you will. Try doing some carpooling and try to buy a posh-looking bag that you like to take everywhere with you… that way, you can use it to carry stuff and avoid plastic bags (at least that’s what I do). Now it’s our turn to take care of the environment which has (so far) taken good care of us.

Simplest thing on earth!


html-154434_640I designed a webpage layout today, finally, after the wonderful couple — Mr. HTML and Ms. CSS — helped me out! It wasn’t bad. All these days, I had been thinking to learn that, but it looks like there’s not much learning needed to design a simple layout. All you have to do is, code your heart out with all the columns you want to include and all the other blocks you want to be displayed and eventually take a look at your webpage after your coding is done and edit it if something goes wrong. Simple, really.

I feel stupid now, because I had been postponing such a fun task all these days… and I thought I’ll have trouble remembering the tags… what had I been thinking? It was fun working with Mr. HTML. He helped me out just like any best friend would. And Ms. CSS was really enthusiastic about my new-found inspiration and wanted my design to look the best and lent me allcss-27192_640 the cooperation she could offer. Both the celebrities remained humble all the while, though. 😀

Maybe I’ll get acquainted with their other friends, too. HTML and CSS seem wonderful when coupled together, but still, I’d like to learn everything there is. I wish to design blogger templates and wordpress themes and use them on my blog… if I really get better in it, that is.

Let’s see how far W3Schools can teach me about all the stuff I need to know. But I’d say that ‘coding’ never quite explains what ‘HTML’ and ‘CSS’ are like. When I did coding last time, it was in C++ and C. (But they’re my favorites, too). I don’t think I’ll like Java as much as C and C++, though. Now, it seems to me that I’m going to like nothing like creating a website myself. After all, in C and C++, I get a dull old MS DOS window to see the output, but here? It’s a different story altogether!

With Forrest Gump and a close friend


Today was one of the best days for me, and I felt this should be recorded somewhere, so here’s another post from me! Today I and my friend, D, about whom I had mentioned earlier, had a great day together.

We happen to be batch-mates in our final year project, and after our work was done in college, we asked our other batch-mate to head home. We both then went to a local eatery and ate.

After we had eaten, we came out and started walking at a random direction… neither of us were sure where we were headed to. But, when she asked me where we were going, without much thought, I asked her if we could head to the same place we went every time… to a nearby tank, which had murkily-green water. A few people were washing their clothes there, and a few were bathing… and a few were swimming there! Eek!


Mahamaham Tank, Kumbakonam.

We finally settled on a high platform – on a high stair, actually, and looked on. We chatted a bit about Johnny, who was a part of her family… she’d tell me about his antics (she’ll kill me if I addressed him as a dog… so I guess I won’t say such mean things about him here…). He’s really cute. ‘He’s a beauty’, she’d say. And I would very, very much agree. Once you see someone like him, then you’d want to pet no one else but him!

And then, we did something better than just sit and chat… even though we knew we didn’t have much charge left in both our laptops, and despite the scorching afternoon sun which would render it almost impossible to even look at our laptops, we decided to watch a movie – Forrest Gump. We adjusted the brightness and made it full… we were able to make out what was happening, but that’s about it. And that was all that mattered.

We began watching.


Tom Hanks as Forrest Gump. Photo: Ian678

After watching almost half of the movie in the banks of the Mahamaham tank, her laptop said that it couldn’t any more run without food, and we immediately switched to mine. We had only fifteen minutes or so for the movie to end when my laptop gave us a similar intimation as well. Shutting it down, I went over to the bus station along with her to drop her… we walked, actually.

As soon as she left, I knew I would write a blog post about this day. It had been an amazing day at the banks of the blissful Mahamaham tank. All days spent at this place are. And Forrest Gump had made our day even better!