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.”

Missile preparation at home simplified: an easy, step-by-step procedure.


My father had been a senior scientist officer (or whatever he had been) in DRDL, and has probably been around missiles and stuff for decades, but has never told me a thing about the chemical components needed to prepare one. Anyway, that never stops me from discovering it out by myself. And reveal it to my dearest fellow bloggers, of course.

So… you want to prepare a missile, you say? And destroy that ONE place that has been bothering you since a while. And you need my help for that?

Being the generous genius that I am, I consent! I shall assist you in making it and successfully test-firing it onto your own enemy-land! Now here’s the procedure how to do so…

Ingredients needed:

1. Sulphur (three oh two grams)
2. Potassium Nitrate (three hundred and forty two and a quarter teaspoonfuls of saltpetre, to be precise)
3. Charcoal (fully charred, and decorated with silver glitter-pens for the best effect)
4. A matchstick.
5. A huge plastic bottle.
6. Silicon dioxide
7. H2O (maintained at 100 degree Celsius for seven minutes)
8. A goodbye note (on a red cardboard, please)
9. A strong bell

That will be all.

But, as you have noticed, when I say ‘sulphur’, or ‘saltpetre’, you might fumble through the keys on your keyboard and google how you can find them. Worry not, dear friend, researching about missiles will only alert your internet security provider or whoever it is who is supposed to be watching you that you’ve gradually become a terrorist. We don’t want that now, do we?

I have done all the things and have gathered all the info. So, the only effort from your side is going to be… the making. Never bother yourself with trivial searches, my busy terrorist-friend.
What do we need first? Sulphur.

We don’t want to go to a chemical store or wherever and ask them for “302 grams of Sulphur please”, because they are likely to find out what you’re up to and inform the police. Being the smarter persons, we will not do that. We are revolutionists and scientists in a way! We know that sulphur will be found in volcanic eruptions!

And so, we travel to Mount Etna. (I highly recommend Etna, but you may choose Hawaii if you will.) Please do not choose any other volcanic mountain, because you’re not allowed to research about it in the internet because your ISP or whoever it is who watches over people doing sneaky things in the net already figured you’d do this and is watching your next move and is waiting for you to google about missiles, and because Etna is a cooler choice when compared to volcanoes I don’t know of. You can visit Syracuse nearby. It’s a very lovely city, I tell you.
I know it’s lovely because I have a very good imagination. My long-abandoned novel was based on it. It’s the hub of the Mediterranean and what more’s needed? We’re going there to dig out the cool yellowy stuff that we need to make our missile.

After that’s done, our next plan is to get potassium nitrate. Though this is a top secret, I’m telling you because… well, as I said, I’m generous. *Whispers*Caves belonging to the early-man might contain saltpetre! You just have to step on the dust of the cave and see if you can see your footprints or not after a day. If you do, then we have to look for another cave. If not, well, we’ve found niter-dust! And that will be our base for potassium nitrate.

If you do not like History as I do, and if you do not take pleasure in venturing to Sicily just because you have to get some spoonfuls of dust, you have an alternative: animal excreta. I know! Interesting indeed!
After that, we’re going to go to the jungles, and if you’re a social volunteer or an environment-caretaker or a nature-lover, then forget about your beloved trees for a moment and axe a few trees and burn them, because you’ve already decided on terrorism. There’s no backing away. Not to be afraid of trees.
Forty three minutes before the trees turn to ash, extinguish the fire. Do you have charred wood now? Perfect. Pack it into your duffel bag. We’ll need it.

Next, we need a bit of water and clay to ensure the three substances stick together no matter what. So do take a waste bottle from your home and half-fill it with a mixture of silicon dioxide and hot H2O. Then, add the specified amount of sulphur, saltpetre and a handful of charcoal into the bottle and seal it tightly.

Decorate it with the ‘Goodbye’ note, so that your best friends in that place where you’re going to fire will be able to get your message before they die. Make it red to give a devilish look. They need to realize the urgency and your hard-work to look terrifying. After all, deciding that you’re a terrorist will alone not suffice, will it?
Next, make a hole with a nail and inject the wick inside, so that it touches the disgusting paste inside (never give up because of the smell. Always remember how far you’ve gone for Sulphur and what lengths you’ve gone to extract saltpetre). And then, take out the matchstick and take it very, very near to the wick… and stop there.
Now, shake the bell. Hear that sound? That’s called conscience. It’s pricking you, because you haven’t done anything, and this genius blogger has told you the whole procedure. So, I’m being considerate here, and giving you a chance to do-it-yourself. Exciting stuff can happen only once, so snatch this opportunity away!
Do it yourself space:

Now, it’s time for your lazy brain to think of some super-genius-Akila-ish technique to light it without dying. I will never promise that this super-genius missile will never burst right away. After all, there were no propellants installed. 😀

But… big-hearted as she is, Akila always comes to your aid in times of distress. Here’s a clue: Newton’s third law. Missile propellants are based on this law.

So, the whole ‘propellant thing’ is simplified, thanks to me remembering this little tip from my science textbook a few years ago. Basically… you just need to fire your propellants downwards with a strong force. Due to the ‘strong and opposing force’ that Newton promised, the missile will move up and attack your enemy-place. Easy, isn’t it?

Now you go find out more about the missile propellants. I’m done with sulphur and saltpetre. *sighs out loud.*

Dear VLSI…


Oh, dear VLSI,
Please don’t trouble me.
Dear, dear VLSI,
I beg of you
To not hate me.

Oh, dear VLSI,
Are you the base
Of everything else?
Look at the silent transistor,
That nodded its head.

Dear oh dear, my VLSI,
Very large scale integration indeed,
But don’t forget the humble half adder,
That has never asked you anything
In return for the carry and the sum it gave you.

The logic gates reside inside,
Eerily functioning, adding every bit.
Oh, my VLSI, don’t you see?
I have a project to do with you in it,
So you have to assist me.

Though the static RAM flip-flopped
About how good your memory was,
The dynamic RAM exposed off
The wedding of the transistor to the talkative capacitor,
That you had forgotten about.

About building an adder,
My professor finally says,
“Eight transistors should do it.”
Dear oh dear, VLSI, you still need to grow!
Don’t bother the naughtily silent transistor; he has a life, too.

And so do I.