I don’t care.

​What do I care

If you get hit by a bus

What do I care

If you don’t feel well

What do I care?

Go freeze to death

On your way to hell

For you can’t even tell

When I don’t care even an inch

Because I know

With your stubborn will

You are not one to heed warnings

Because people like me

Are just 

Not worth listening to.

Step into the scorching fire,

Or plunge into a lone well..

I will never care.

Nor will I ever write poems

To channel my fury,

To control my anger,

Because you

Will never be the person

Whom I cared for the most of all.

Because you

Are not my best friend.

Because you

Can do whatever you want.

I don’t care.

At all.

Still,

Be careful.

Do take care.

And I didn’t say I cared.

No, not even a bit.

Forget me.

​Neither my rudeness

Nor my neutrality towards you

Matters at this point;

Because finally

You are now free..


And here I fall

Into the abyss

Of ice

And woe.


Neither my apathy

Nor my unresponsiveness

Really needs to be recollected;

Because finally

You are now free..


And here I fall

Into the abyss

Of ice

And woe.


Neither my cold stares

Nor my wicked sneers

Are important this minute;

Because finally

You are now free..


And here I fall

Into the abyss

Of ice

And woe.


Neither the pain I’d endured

Nor my longing for olden times

Will you ever fathom;

Because finally

You are now free..


And here I fall

Into the abyss

Of ice

And woe.


Neither my agony

Nor my silent cries

Will you ever hear;

Because finally

You are now free..


And here I fall

Into the abyss

Of ice

And woe.


Neither your mind

Nor your heart

Will henceforth reach out to me;

Because finally

You are now free..


And here I fall

Into the abyss

Of ice

And woe.


Neither the love I had hidden within

Nor the closeness I thought existed

Is required anymore;

Because finally

You are now free.. 

Like a feather,

From the grip that I had held so loosely.


And here,

As I fall deeper and deeper,

Into the bottomless abyss

Of ice so cold,

And untold tales of woe,

You gradually forget me.

DSCH software window.

Our final year project

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.

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?”

“But–“

“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.”

“Honey…”

“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?”

“No.”

“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.”

A letter for forgiveness

Dear Electronics,

notes-514998_1280

I miss you. I really do. Once upon a time, when I was first confronted with the task of dealing with you as a subject, I didn’t quite like you. You did seem excellent and all, but the excitement of getting to know what components the electronic gadgets contained inside of them had faded when I realized there were too many equations and derivations that tagged along.

But now, I have to no more deal with the pesky little transistors, resistors, or capacitors. I do not have to bother about wearing an oversized khaki coat and black leather shoes to the laboratory. The diodes and the ICs can finally be free of this uncaring brat. The breadboard can finally rest in peace. But I cannot. I  had been uncaring, but when it’s time to bid you goodbye, I feel so empty inside… and bad, because I hadn’t treated you well all these days. I find that something is missing in my life without you.

mother-board-581597_640

I confess… I didn’t quite like you at one point o’ time… although that would be nowhere near how much I despised signals and systems. I probably still don’t like signals and systems and other communication stuff, but I wanted to tell you that even after two years have passed, I still like you.

Seems like I haven’t moved on, after all. Anyway. have a great future ahead. I can foresee great improvements in the near future. There might be someone else who deserves you, after all. Though, I have to tell you, I’ll never stop liking you for the rest of my life.

Yours detest-less-ly,

Akila.

A broken relationship

Watching a couple’s relationship spiral down to dust, I wrote this poem. They weren’t made-for-each-other, but they still manage to live together and smile, just because they love their daughter quite a lot. They’d rather torment themselves than see her frown.

What a wonderful pair indeed! Love, sometimes, comes from somewhere you don’t expect. Not from each other, but from the happiness of someone else they didn’t think of while they got married… Anyway, they never quite spoke much to each other. Though the couple were adjusting, living in the same house, their relationship could not be repaired is what I came to find out. I often drop by for a chat with Mrs. K, but Mr. K doesn’t talk much to me.

A relationship so frail and tight…
Like the glass of my window pane.

A bond that’s broken beyond might…
Like a boulder on the mind of the sane.

Of a non-existent love, of extreme spite…
Like the nothingness amidst sheer pain.

As strict as a customary rite…
Like all things mundane.

An expression of apathy, subtly arousing fright…
Like the barren mainland bearing cocaine

A long-lost faith, kindling dreads of the night…
Like the dirty waters of the polluted oceans lain.

A desperate attempt to make things right…
Like a coin running down the drain.

Yet, lost to the winds in plain sight…
Like a villain on a fine day slain.

Finally, a sorrow-drenched figure comes to light…
But, who is to blame?