An abomination

I’ve always had nothing but absolute contempt and disdain for politics as a whole. Yes, there are good politicians and those that are in it to genuinely serve a higher cause, but taken as a whole, it is hard not feel a sense of rigid disenchantment towards it. The Congress party, which dominated Indian politics with successive federal government for almost fifty years after Independence, has always used a clever two-pronged strategy to stay in power. First, it has always curried favors with the super-rich and the super privileged, building a license-raj monster that has created a black economy of biblical proportions. It is shocking that more Indians have stashed black money in secretive Swiss Banks than any other nation, with a whopping $1.4 trillion dollars that is almost the size of the Indian GDP. Because this could not have only happened during the last fifteen years, and because the Congress party has been in power for most of independent India, I am inclined to believe that the Congress party is waist-deep in this almost surreal sham of our times. Second, the Congress party has been successful in finding ploys and gimmicks to pander to the India’s most vulnerable and poor near the vicinity of elections, making lofty promises and spending a vast chest of campaign money to return to power, often presenting the Gandhi dynasty as its face for this purpose. It is the educated middle and upper class that has always been neglected by the party, sending them into political wildness with backpacks filled with overwhelming apathy and disdain.

But as has been said, you cannot fool all the people all the time. A rapidly expanding and maturing middle and upper class in India seems to be shaking off it’s apathetic stupor and demanding that they be recognized. Anna Hazare, the 74 year-old man who is leading what I think is one of the most significant mass movements in all of human history since the time of Gandhi, seems to have awoken the 400 odd million middle and upper middle class to flex their political muscles. My father told me recently of how even people in the rural areas of Mysore seemed to joining in the Anna movement. This tells me that there is hope. When you have people on the higher end of the asperger, so-called genius genetics, namely influential techies in Bangalore and farmers in Mandya join hands for a single movement, you recognize that it is legitimately a movement.

When Anna Hazare announced his intentions to go on a hunger-strike-till death, the Congress government at the center unleashed the Delhi police on him due to so called ‘public order’ concerns, sending him to Tihar jail. What is ironic is that a former minister of under the Manmohan Singh government and at least a dozen other bigwigs from other parties to company executives, are in the same notorious prison because of their alleged looting of the national exchequer of almost $44 billion, a scandal of almost monumental proportions. This act of the Congress should tell anyone with a right mind that the Congress has many shocking skeletons in the closet which risks getting outed if Anna Hazare’s demands are met and an independent corruption watchdog with a constitutional mandate is set up. After arresting and imprisoning him. the  spontaneous mass protests that erupted from Kashmir to Kanyakumari scared the Manmohan Singh government, releasing him on the same day and pleading with him to call off his agitation. India is not Egypt, neither is it a Syria. The right to protest is a constitutional right, and the government was cornered to the wall and spoke in a cacophony of  absurd voices (from calling Anna Hazare corrupt, to putting the blame on Delhi police, to then calling him a hero). The present government at the center is not only steeped in corruption, it also suffers from arrogance and the complete lack of any signs of intelligence.

A harbinger of things to come

Today’s unanimous resolution of Parliament to take up the three demands made by the Anna movement augurs well for our democracy. One man has inspired a mass movement that has forced Parliament to bend over backwards and accept his calls for a strong and effective corruption watchdog. The Congress led government at the center is wobbling on its last legs, waiting for the next scandal to send it packing. When and if that happens, one hopes that the work of establishing the Lokpal (corruption watchdog) is completed. One hopes that the new government would be under a different party, with a single-minded focus on boosting the economy for 10% GDP growth a year. with a rapt attention on infrastructure and next-generation technology investments. One also hopes that any inkling towards stupid and mindless communal politics does not make a comeback, for those days are gone in India. Communal politics has been repudiated by the Indian people and it always should be. Electing a non-Congress government at the center would mean an end to the Gandhi family control of politics in India. They ruled India for almost 50 years, and we didn’t develop in inch when we were under them. They had their time.

Of the many uprisings in the world, starting from the Middle East, to riots in Greece, Spain, France and England, the middle classes and the neglected are standing up against the culture of organized corruption at the behest of the super-super-rich, a culture of corruption that has brought the world economy to its knees. But as a very famous Indian political scientist recently said, a fear and anxiety about the future almost always comes with hope, and it is this ray of light that is so encouraging. From the the Ramlia grounds in Delhi, a feeble, 74 year old man, through his peaceful hunger protest, has captured the hearts of millions and brought a corrupt, sinful government to its knees and awoken the apathetic and the neglected for action.

There is always hope.

Each step seems to be a product of nerves, of perspiration and intrepidity, drawing from the raw wherewithal. Hope is sometimes the only companion, a lamp in a path filled with many shadows. Whether this is a test of faith, or a challenge or a preordained passage is unknown. The mind delves into the past and  yearns for the Evenstar in the north sky. Both challenges and opportunities galore, but wither shall you choose that which is fleeting, which is ephemeral and glitters on the surface. Courage and perseverance must continue unabated, for they are never unrewarded. Even the shadows will soon pass for there is no power like that of a resolute and a determined faith. Solder on, whispers the wise man, for great and sterling things lie on the anvil.

The past semester has been quite the spectrum. I’ve probably learned and performed more this semester than at any time in the past twenty four years. I’ve met CEO’s of companies, interacted with some of the most extraordinary minds of our times and even visited the home of the most powerful man on the planet. I’ve also faced personal challenges and tribulations. Many a time, it feels like traversing in circles, with the deep recesses of the mind fixated on those variables that I cannot alter. I am determined to march on in complete gusto, with resolve and single-mindedness, for there is no boundary that is beyond the reach of perseverance.

Autism theory and human behavior

Taught Rosalind Picard and Matthew Goodwin here at MIT, this is arguably the most magnificent and well-rounded introductory course to autism on the planet. It would be completely true to say that I have never taken a course that has had such a profound impact on my thinking. Studying the inner bearings of autism has offered me an unusually powerful frame of reference to view statistical learning and probabilistic modeling of language. I learned more about human behavior in this course than all of the previous twenty four years of my life put together.

Being born into a family of doctors, I have seen countless stories of sadness. Yet I have also seen stories of inspiration and hope that can vouch with every fiber of my being that the work done to help children is the best work there can ever be. When I was seven, my grandmother saw a couple with a son who was almost my age who had a congenital heart defect in his left atrial valves. I still remember my grandmother trying frantically to arrange a surgery for that young boy. When I asked her once about why her eyes would tear up every time she’d see her young patients, she told me that young children and pregnant women were direct manifestations of God.

All four of my grandparents are no more, but on those occasions when I’d finish writing an assignment for this class and go jogging around the Charles river, the sparkling beauty of the river next to me along with fresh ideas about autism and children made me so nostalgic about all those years that I spent with my grandparents.  No words in the English lexicon are enough to describe how I felt during those moments. If not for anything else, I am so grateful that taking this class reminded me that my grandparents’ visions of the world could still be alive because I carry their genes.

A penchant for pattern thinking

One of the most illuminating and inspiring stories I’ve heard about in the recent past is that of Temple Grandin. Not only are her insights into human thinking and behavior make more sense than any piece of cognitive psychology I’ve ever read, her personal journey is one that cuts through layers and layers of ignorance and bigotry. Her idea is essentially this – that there is a distribution of different types of minds, and that the world needs different kinds of minds to work together. While she identifies herself as a visual thinker, as evidenced by tensor images of her brain showing a gigantic visual cortex, she also identifies other kinds of minds such as the pattern thinker and the verbal.

Here at MIT, which has a disproportionately high distribution of people with high functioning ASD, I see a lot of pattern thinking minds. When I was in the tenth grade, I was shocked to see the shocked faces of my peers who winced when I  told them what kind questions could be expected in the next exam, and that I didn’t prepare for certain subjects like world history and biology. What gives some of us the ability to process huge amounts of information, deduce patterns and transform that into meaningful data? What gives some of us the uncanny ability to fit a statistical model to seemingly disconnected and meaningless big data? While those questions are best answered by neuro-anatomists I’ve met at HMS and MGH, the larger point to be noted is that those of us who have sought refuge under the large beacon of hope called MIT, there are millions of other similar visual, pattern and verbal thinkers who don’t get the same chance. Are we doing a good enough job of identifying these brilliant minds (while acknowledging the social difficulties that these minds typically have) and putting them where they belong?

Thanks to the work of this one remarkable human being, there is a movement towards recognizing this fact. If you’ve never watched the Temple Grandin movie, I’d be hard pressed to recommend to you one less than any book on human behavior when it comes to explaining how unique each and every mind is.

Modeling the next generation transportation ecosystem

This semester, I connected the extraordinary Robert Hampshire to the Smart Cities group here at the lab. As a leader in modeling bikes sharing systems he spoke about his stochastic models for bike re-balancing and capacity prediction. The transportation ecosystem of the future is one that will involve bike sharing systems, electric bikes and foldable cars for solving the first-mile, last-mile problem, as well as an optimal interaction with public transportation. The idea is to optimize the ecosystem for every user based on their preference.

Building on the modeling of existing programs across many cities around the world, there is a need to tap into behavioral economics and tap into sensor-based parameters for moving into a meta-continuous real-time modeling of transportation systems. There is a chance to build the first ever such model into practice right here in Boston, home to the first ever underground transit system in the US, stretching back to the 1890s. A successful model in Boston would be so powerful that it promises to change the dynamics of transportation systems as we know of them in the entire country.

I’ve had so many experiences this semester, a spectrum of all of sorts of things. Fortunately for me, I have some of the most beautiful friends that anyone can ever hope for. What I’d be without them, or just how much of a value I can assign to them, I’ll never know, but in the midst of a scattering array of the scintillating, the challenging and the inspiring, there is one constancy that is comforting, and that is the the simple love of my friends and of my family.

It is perhaps in this glue that hold so much together that emerges a quiet yearning of the Evenstar that lies on the horizon.

Last week, as a part of a three member team from MIT, I was invited to a White House conference on addressing bullying hosted by President Obama and the First Lady. The conference was attended by families and individuals who have been victims of bullying, as well as experts trying to tackle this scourge. I applaud the President and the First Lady for having the temerity and empathy in organizing this event and casting a spotlight on this social menace. Several key members from the President’s cabinet were in attendance, underscoring the seriousness with which the White House views this problem.

My focus is on modeling the detection of textual cyber-bullying using computational linguistics., a project which I started last semester, but has since grown by leaps and bounds into a venture of its own. I had many meaningful interactions with some key people in this equation from the administration, the industry, as well academia. A powerful alliance to tackling bullying is in the making, one that would hasten the day when no child or young adult has to ever contemplate taking their own lives.

Listening to heart-wrenching stories by victims and families permanently scarred because of bullying has bought back memories of my own. I can say with  impunity that these memories are not a tad bit pleasant. I have come across numerous bullies both during school and during college. I was never overwhelmed by them during either of those periods, but I can’t say that they were just mere irritants. They certainly affected me, sometimes to the point of making me brood over their behavior for days, and I can certainly imagine the unspeakable pain that victims can endure.

I was an obese child till I turned twelve. I was mocked for having to get my school sweaters custom made for me. I was also routinely mocked for having a darker shade of skin. I was very much a precocious child from as long as I can remember, and was very often the teacher’s favorite in class. This invited some insults too. I was accused of being a brand ambassador for butter that would do anything to be loved my teachers, when in reality, my teachers liked me for academics and for my handwriting.  Some of these things continued even during college. I could sense an almost stark difference between people who were nice to me and those that were full of the same qualities as the bullies I encountered during school. I remember very clearly, in great detail, almost every blatant and subtle bully that I have met since I was in middle school.

Fortunately, I never let them get to me or influence me. And I never tried to fit in either, because beyond a point, I just couldn’t care. I had my own small circle of close friends  – my trust circle – and they were all that mattered to me. I was often too engrossed in things that I was passionate about. But I understand and empathize with victims who’s context and scenarios might be very different than mine, and who feel pain and suffer on a scale or severity that I never really did. Everyone is different, with different coping mechanisms. But in the oddly low probablity that this blog post is read by a victim, I will make these points based on my observations and my experiences:

1. If you are different, you are likely to become someone special and interesting - If you are different from peers and often get mocked for not ascribing to peer pressure, then there is a high likelihood that you will become a very interesting person in the future. The people who were markedly different from everybody else in my school have turned out to be some of the most interesting and outstanding people that I know of today. Your unique talents and traits are your strength – don’t try too hard to change who you are to fit into a group.

2. Stay away from the blatant and the subtle – Don’t spend too much time in the company of those that are blatant and subtle bullies, even if they are very popular. Better still, don’t spend time worrying about them. There are a zillion interesting and magical things to explore in the world, and wasting your precious memory cycles on such people is exactly what is is – a wastage of resources.

3. People like and love you – Your real friends stick with you through thick and thin. They genuinely celebrate your successes and help you when you are feeling down. You would do the same for them. They don’t judge you, nor do they impose their views on you – you are in your own skin around them, and they give you your space. Memory cycles and man-hours spent with them are truly worth it. Try to spend time with such people. It is good for health and a lot of fun.

4. Don’t be afraid to ask for help – There is nothing wrong in asking for help if you feel overwhelmed. Everybody goes through rough patches, and that is the truth. If you ask for help, it means you are being kind to yourself, and that is very important. What’s more, you will find that there are people who you know will be able to help you. You will learn to deal the same kind of problem in a better way if you ever encounter it again.

5. It gets better with time – I often do time-series analysis in a lot of my research. I can tell you both from my own experiences and my research that it really does get better with time. So try to imagine yourself a year, two years or even five years down the line and think of how you’d feel then. You will get busy and do interesting things in the future and your painful experiences will ebb and fade.

During his speech at the conference, President Obama rejected the naive notion that somehow bullying was ‘a rite of passage’ that everybody has to go through. He talked of how he was bullied in school for having big ears and a funny name. But today his journey to the White House is by itself such a profoundly inspiring story – that a boy ridiculed for having big ears and a funny name and of African-American heritage can become the most powerful man on the planet. Examples of people overcoming such obstacles are everywhere – from the extraordinary singer Susan Boyles to the record-smashing swimmer Michael Phelps.

My own advisor here at MIT, Henry Lieberman, somewhat of a polymath in computer science – from inventing garbage collection in programming languages to fill functions in computer graphics to natural language understanding and cross-modal interfaces, told me of his experience with bullies when he was a  child, and how clearly he remembers them. There are inspiring stories everywhere. You only have to open your mind to them. According to Ralph Emerson, ‘When a resolute young fellow steps up to the great bully, the world, and takes him boldly by the beard, he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand, and that it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers.’

Sparkling things are yet to come.

Much has been done, but much more remains to be done. There are many to thank, without whose raw love and sturdy support nothing could come to pass. It is a moral imperative to preserve the perspective and sharpen the focus. The entropy of strong, concerted action must be maintained and balanced with great care. Steadfast discipline and renewed devotion should and must be the forte, for nothing can be done without them.

The past semester has been exhilarating, thought-provoking and inspiring. In this place called MIT which I have come to love, I have seen some remarkable things. I’ve witnessed first-hand the power and beauty of the human mind. I’ve seen brilliance, and felt an ambiance of  possibility. It is an inexcusable blunder to let oneself be carried away by this magnificent atmosphere at the cost of one’s own health, as I have done this past semester. Yes, I’ve stumbled. But I am glad to have stumbled, for I have learned to appreciate the power of balance and proportion even better.

The magic of Hidden Markov Models

My current research involves a lot of  hidden markov modeling. Sometimes, I look at hidden markov models and think about what a gift to humanity they really are. Used in seemingly disparate areas from protein modeling to gesture & speech recognition to natural language processing, HMMs are a most fascinating set of methods. The art of observing output as dependent on a set of hidden states, and for those hidden states to emerge and to be harnessed, is simply breathtaking.

I’ve always thought of fundamental particle physics to be the most beautiful pieces of mathematical work, and have always resented not having pursued it. Hidden markov models, while paling in comparison, are still stunningly pretty. I’ve felt a strong fondness for it. There are probably even more gorgeous things out there – I can only hope that stumble upon them as a function of my research.

It’s particularly thrilling to see those hidden states to be harnessed for something that actually helps people, as I hope the case with my current work will turn out to be. For now though, I am going to be treating myself to watch and enjoy it.

Iterations and malleability

If everything could be mustered in a single pass, that would certainly be wonderful. The fact remains though, that most things are not achievable in a single pass, sometimes not even in a few passes. No matter what one’s goals are or how tough one’s predicaments may be, one has an obligation to press on with resolve and to keep trying. Repeatedly and consistently. There is no power like that of a strong will, and there are few things that cannot be done with perseverance. Concerted action renders things malleable, affording you the power to bend them at your will.

Granted, not all the variables are under your control. But certain variables are, perhaps the most important being the ability to control how they shape one’s thinking. And that is all that matters for most things.

Expectation Maximization

Just they are used to solve certain kinds of hidden markov model problems, the method of expectation maximization is a profound metaphor for all that is yet to come and how we should be leading our lives. Iterative by its very nature, it works consistently and repeatedly to unravel the hidden states that lie within.

As goals are laid and dreams created, there are many beautiful hidden things that are yet to come.

I cannot express in words how singularly blessed I feel to be where I am and to be doing what I am doing. A worthy supposition is that of living a childhood dream. Even in these troubled times, when so many have so few, where hope seems to be the only pillar standing, there are those to whom much is given.

To be given a chance to live a childhood dream is not only a gift, but a responsibility and a calling. A calling to unleash every atom of creativity, with eyes rapt in attention and a mind determined to push and persevere. Even the vicissitudes of life – those uncontrollable contrivances borne out of pessimism and doubt will soon vanish. Things will fall into place. That is the design of nature. Such is the power of will.

Advanced Natural Language Processing

Taught by the extraordinary Regina Barzilay, this is the heart of computational linguistics at MIT. Learning the latest statecraft of algorithms for performing magical tasks with text is not only mesmerizing, but also a privilege. Statistical approaches to language processing is a discipline that is young and nascent.

That MIT has or has had several of the best minds in the field, such as the profoundly influential Shannon and the very smart Michael Collins is like learning how to make pizza from the finest chefs in Italy. Even if much of the work in the field is incremental, this has taught me how to mine text for sentiment, discourse analysis, and how to translate one language to another. There are great things that are yet to come using natural language processing and machine learning. I can hardly stop thinking about it.

Metaphors from the Infinite Corridor

At MIT, to walk through the infinite corridor is to pass through the power of science and ingenuity. It cannot be described as anything other than inspiring. Every walk through this corridor is a surge in determination – of watching people with boundless enthusiasm and dedication. The metaphor then, is a simple, yet powerful one – in this world of such plenty and such scarcity, there are limitless possibilities to make a difference.

As I look outside my window to a gorgeous view of the Charles, I believe in the goodness of this magnificent place.

I love MIT.

Perhaps the most peculiar oddities of the world is its premium on ascription – the direct correlation of success and wealth with one’s upbringing and familial support. As hackneyed and browbeaten as it may sound, the fact is that talent is universal but opportunities are severely limited. It is perhaps the most glaring moral vexation of our times, one that continues to haunt and besmirch all humanity. We still live in a world that produces a twenty two year old billionaire and countless abhorrent stories of hunger, deprivation and suffering.

A clarion call to action

Growing up as a child in a family of doctors has given me a chance to see life from many perspectives. I have seen my grandparents see hundreds of thousands of patients, young and old, rich and poor. I have seen people experiencing heart attacks. I’ve seen people who were told that their loved one would probably not live for long. I have seen kids who were my age, but born with major congenital heart defects, only that their anguished parents could not afford the surgery that could save their child’s life.

The pulse of life  is often taken for granted and forgotten in the hectic parley of our daily chores and our materialistic craving. The pulse of life is precious. It is fragile and is limited in time.  Only two things matter – the people who you love and your responsibility to realize your God-given capacities to do what you can to further life for those that need it. There are many ways to achieve this, and to each his own.

Fight for what you love

One of the most extraordinary and magical gifts in my life is that I continue to meet remarkable human beings everywhere I go. At every stage in my twenty-four years of existence, I have met with gracious and kind human beings that are as noble as the pristine sun. I am deeply inspired by them. Their unbounded enthusiasm and their goodwill towards me and my well-being reminds me everyday of who I really am and what I must do in my life.

Even in the quandary of many choices, limitations and circumstances, you have to do what you really love. As my wonderful manager told me very recently, you are called upon to fight for what you love. Secure in the knowledge that I have the complete and unrestrained support of an army of well-wishers, loved ones and that of  the overwhelming force of providence itself, I am about set forth on an adventure filled with purpose.

The return of my Jean Louise

From the time I read the book ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’, and I couldn’t but draw some very nice comparisons between the chief character in the book and someone who means a lot to me. That thought has come back to me again. This week, I will get to meet my dear, dear sister, who is about to embark on an adventure of her own. From the countless discussions that we had about Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings to the often funny fights which required the intervention of my mother, I can hardly say how excited I am to be seeing her again.

To borrow an apt conjecture from Tolkien himself, the coming of my sister is like the ‘the falling of stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains, an event that hasn’t happened since the Elder days’. My Jean Louise is coming back to me.

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology

I am electrified and galvanized to be starting as a graduate student at MIT’s Media Lab. That we have continue to suffer in an human-computer interaction model that is stuck in the 1970s is an affront to science itself. Instead of humanizing technology, we continue to gallop in  path carved in the 1970′s enslaving ourselves to bending over to technology rather than making technology bend over to let us be humans.

My adventure at MIT will take me through the intelligence of the artificial, through the understanding of natural language cognition, perception and speech interfaces. From the place that housed polymaths such as Herbert Simon and Allen Newell, I am now going to into the land of Marvin Minsky, Seymour Papert and Noam Chomsky. I am determined to be the best that I can humanly be at MIT.

Lessons from the primordial slime

President Bill Clinton, in his commencement speech to Yale graduates, talks about the CP-symmetry violation that was discovered by researchers at the large hadron collider at CERN, telling us that subatomic particles of matter, previously thought of being in equal proportion of positive and negative charges, would cancel each other out. It so happens that the positive forces are slightly more than the negative ones. This is such a powerful metaphor to how we should be thinking about our lives too and a telling story from our primordial slime.

There are many great and beautiful things that are yet to come.

Ten years after high school, times have changed. Quietly and noisly, the ground beneath our feet has shifted in gargatuan proportions. Today is a very different time from how things were a decade ago. I shudder to imagine what my impressions of the world would have been if I was in my formative years today. It is chilling to imagine a child reading the newspaper everyday these days – reading about bloodshed and conflict, an economic depression borne out of greed, of corruption and of man-made ecological catastrophes of biblical magnitudes.  The fact the  1990′s was a decade that ushered in steady economic expansion and saw relatively little conflict was indeed a silent blessing for those of us who grew up during that period. This contrasts almost repugnantly with the last decade, which surely ranks as one of worst decades in human history, equaling the dark ages of the world wars.  One would be hard pressed to find a single day devoid of some news of gloom and doom these days. What effects this might have on children is almost completely ignored, and it is heart-wrenching that not many people are taking about it.

Constructionism

When I first read Mindstorms:Children, Computers  and Powerful Ideas, it introduced me to the beautiful learning theory of constructionism and I was struck by how much I could relate my own childhood experiences with what I was reading. Espoused first by  MIT’s Seymour Papert, widely known as the greatest living mathematics educator, this theory seeks to explain a child’s learning process. It explains that children learn by constructing tangible objects, that they learn most effectively when they make or build things, and that their learning is directly related to what they experience. It says that experiential learning is superior to instructional-ism. It is highly relevant to learning of science,  mathematics and art. But what is even more important that it how it can be extended to explain other kinds of learning that happens in a child, and what that means for adults.

If experiential episodes create a ‘situation’ that enables assimilation of learning material, then it also means that children relate and learn by what they they experience in other areas too. Constantly bombarded with stories of gloom and doom, it is logical to assume that this creates an environment that is detrimental. Children grow by relating things to what is happening around them. I am hard pressed to find to many good things for children to relate to these days. Are we  surrounding children with a good number of things that they can relate to? I think not. I find it disturbing.

A guiding compass

The importance of context in learning cannot be wished away and one cannot be oblivious to the context that exists for far to many children in the world today. I have found that every noble intention, every good deed, and everything that sparkles with marvel and beauty, ultimately serves a single purpose. Of creating a better place for children. To each his own. I am, as a function of my faith and my upbringing, obliged to do everything I can to creating such an environment. The probability of eliciting the best and brightest out of children during their formative years is high. It can be great societal leveler in more ways than one. Every major decision should be tempered with this thought.

A thought, a guiding compass.

Clarity: a sense of proportion

The past couple of weeks have been quite nice. Buoyed by the the sheer magic that is New York city, a resurgence of aerobic exercise and new aquaintances, the past couple of days have given me a chance to pause and connect the two hemispheres of my brain. The tyranny of the left hemisphere over the right, as explained so powerfully by Jill Bolte Taylor, is a difficult reality to deal with.  Allowing the left hemisphere to dominate would mean focusing on ‘yourself’, as a distinct entity from the rest of the world, aloof and not bothered about anybody or anything other than yourself. Those uncommon souls who are right-dominated are those that are likely to think about others before thinking about themselves – for whom ‘me’ and ‘I’ take second place to ‘us’ and ‘we’. There seems to be little doubt that not only are these people the better angels of society, but lead happier lives and are more content than the rest.

Those that tilt towards the left hemisphere are those are that choose to focus on themselves more often than not. While it can be argued that the extremely left-hemisphered can be grossly self-centered, focusing on the self with a view towards betterment is not a bad trait in itself. In fact, it is healthy and sometimes quite essential. One cannot hope to usher in better things for the world at large without first changing themselves – of paramount importance in a world where time seems to fly at the speed of light. I suspect that most New Yorkers would agree with this assertion.

I have thought and long hard about choosing one of these paradigms over the other, and have come to some fairly simple and obvious conclusions. It is a unique trait of all forms of life to focus on the self – an essential tool for survival and sustenance. One has to muster the temerity and wherewithal to swim through the the challenges of an increasingly complex world. Yet, to be so full of yourself so as to not see the world as anything other than you and you alone is a sign of mental illness. Caring and empathizing for those around you magically produces happiness and contentment on a very generous scale. Indeed, it appears that for a more peaceful world, there needs to more of this to happen. The right and left hemispheres then, are abstractions of interdependence and independence. And it is worth noting that one cannot choose one over another, for they are both indispensable.

This then, is the answer. A balance between independence and interdependence – a sense of proportion, a conscious and sustained effort to allow both hemispheres of your brain to hold equal sway over your thoughts and actions. I will never forget how beautifully JK Rowling articulated this in her Harvard commencement speech – extolling the benefits of dealing with failure and the underlining the crucial role to empathasize and to imagine oneself in the shoes of others.

The magic of New York city

When I first arrived in New York last summer, little did I imagine of what it had in store for me. If truth be told,  I  was  intimidated by its size  and anxious about how I would manage my summer without knowing a single soul in the city. My apprehensions were confirmed by the end of my first two weeks here, for I did not like the city at all, and was rather taken aback by the attitude people – they seemed to have neither patience nor courtesy. People looked like they were in a great hurry for everything and seemed to be reluctant to dispense with any need for niceties. I couldn’t wait for the summer to end – my only solace was my best friend from school who was also in the city for the summer.

But as with all things that endure, New York started to grow on me. As I began to meet more new Yorkers and making a lot of friends, I started to understand the attitude of New Yorkers better. Living in a mammoth city, with its lightning pace of life and its many challenges, had forced people to wear a tough mask. Beneath the masks however, people were as nice and decent as you’d ever meet in any other city. As I started to go out almost every evening and meeting many wonderful people, my opinion of the city was radically transformed.

There has been no looking back ever since. I have come to  deeply admire and love New York. It has brought me great luck and also introduced to me several extraordinary human beings. I stand in awe at its culture, its intellectual vibrancy and its remarkable ability to teach you the virtues of tenacity and resilience. I have every reason to believe that it holds many more remarkable things for me.

Downtown New York is beaming in all its radiance, as if to herald a most sparkling and brilliant summer.

What was a sight mired in the shadow of the night begins to dissipate as the first rays of light appear. A pencil of soft rays to an elegant beam – heralding a spectacular event. The rise of the golden morning sun, casting a golden shower of light over the mighty landscape.

The grandeur of the sight that has just been revealed is breathtaking. Snow-cloaked mountains, basking in the glory of the morning sun. As calm and gentle as their gargataun height, and as pure and untarnished as the whiteness of snow. They stand as eloquent ambassadors of resilience, of character, and of everything that is noble. [video]

A new age rises

After what seems like a short sprint since high school, I am now witnessing what can only be described as magic. A series of sparkling events have now been set in motion for the realization of a what was just a dream. How this could have happened despite my many shortcomings and challenges in life is beyond me. A new renaissance is on the anvil, ushering a wave of intellectual and cultural pursuits towards of the realization of the my overarching goal.

It is mysterious fact of life that talent is universal, but opportunity is limited and concentrated. It is worth saying again that those blessed with intelligence and opportunity have an obligation to do be what they were made to be, thereby increasing the radius of that circle of opportunity to those that are not blessed with it.

I am filled to the brim of my heart  with gratitude for all those who been have been steadfast pillars of strength. If there ever was an obvious representation of what is divine, it has to be them, for in them I can see and feel God himself. They are any and all of my reasons. They are my higgs-boson.

They are my rising sun.

It is a time to reflect on things that have been, that are, and those that have not yet come to pass. Even as the learning machine keeps pace with the multitude of experiences, there are some tenets that cannot change. They are timeless and universal. Chief amongst them are the following notions: that one can only connect dots looking back in hindsight. It is only then that they become meaningful ; it is a moral imperative to solder on with resolve, overriding whatever that may lie in between ; that you are your own master, and that there the only thing that matters are your choices ; that nothing, absolutely nothing is more important than those that you love. To each his own set of dreams  – yet to keep them alive, you have to feed them and nurture them. This too is a conscious choice, for the urge to feed and nurture skepticism and fear are common alternatives. Either way, your dreams or skepticism are alive and relevant so long as you willingly feed and nurture them.

There is abundant proof that talent is universal, but opportunity is extremely limited. It is for this reason that those who are blessed with intelligence and opportunity must use it for the good of all – for the betterment of life, and for the expansion of that circle of opportunity for those that do not fall under it. One also has to think about those that have given him that circle of opportunity, for they are all his reasons. Each of these twin pillars ought to be pursued in the direction of one’s dreams. This pursuit should be done with everything that one can muster bodily, physically and emotionally, using discipline, faith and a touch of common sense.

These then, form the framework of one’s thought and action for what lies on the horizon, and there is every reason to believe that it is full of bright and sparkling things. One good thing begets another, just like a how one drop of water sticks to another – a cohesive force that is more powerful than what we might think.

So rises a new decade.

I have a strong and abiding belief in the goodness of what I have experienced at Carnegie Mellon. Each experience that I have here seems to convey a meaning. A purpose. It is not by accident that I continue to meet extraordinary minds that challenge me to go where I have not gone before. How this happens – this uncanny set of coincidences and chances that keeps pushing me – is hard to explain. There’s no logic involved in it, except perhaps that when you get to know good people, only good things are bound to happen.

Schmoozing with agile evangelists at OOPSLA

This was the first time I’ve ever been to OOPSLA. My first ever visit Orlando Florida, and my first visit to the Disney Resort where the conference happened.  This is the ACM special interest group for Object Oriented Programming, Systems, Languages and Applications. The disambiguation is crisp and almost precise. OOPSLA has been the primary venue where many of the great things of our time in computer science were born. It is here that object-orientation took shape, where design patterns were first created and where agile development as a methodology was first presented. Joining Professor Jonathan Aldrich‘s team of researchers at this conference was special. Representing CMU was even more special.

Barbara Liskov, MIT’s Turing award winner and the conference’s keynote speaker, declared that the software crisis is still an ongoing phenomenon. That her team’s visit to Marian Shaw‘s research group in CMU in early 1990 is perhaps another indication of the prominence of CMU in advancing the field of programming languages since its inception. I had a chat with Professor Liskov after her talk, and it struck me how grandmotherly she was.

My own presentation of the myopic mindset towards agile development was received better than what I had hoped for. There are many people who constantly misinterpret the original tenets as laid out by the agile alliance, and seem to equate agility with the lack of a need for planning. I think I was able to convey the gist of my ideas during the talk, and met quite a few people who told me later of how typical this mindset really is, perhaps more entrenched and widespread than most people would like to admit.

Applied Machine Learning

This has to be the most magical of courses that I have had the great fortune of studying at Carnegie Mellon. Taught by the extraordinary Professor Carolyn Rose,  the pedagogical path that this course follows sets the gold standard for how a course should be delivered. This course is very meticulously crafted and crisply defined. Learning theoritical machine learning can give you a solid statistical base. Yet applying machine learning on real world datasets and programming learning algorithms for real world applications are two important skills that are different in scope from theoritical machine learning.

This course adopts an algorithmic approach to applying relevant machine learning techniques on real world applications. It tell you how to choose a learner for your dataset, how you might transform your dataset to build a better learning model, and trains you on the often glossed over aspect of error analysis. The concepts underlying the learning algorithms themselves – from the differences between tree and rule based learners to instance-based learning and ensemble methods were taught in such a lucid and meaningful way. Perhaps the fact that Professor Rose has a deep interest in human-computer interaction is one factor contributing to how well she has modeled this course.I will be writing a detailed pedagogical perspective on this course towards the middle of December.

Human-Computer Interaction Methods: Contextual Design

If you have every studied at Carnegie Mellon and not have taken this course, I have to say to you that you have missed out on magnificent course. I have frequently wondered how the human component in software development can be managed better, but my thoughts to this question were in terms of general ideas. Having studied Beyer and Holtzblatt‘s creation of contextual design, I am more convinced every day that every software programmer and product manager must study contextual design. Of course, contextual design is just one of the methods that you can learn in this course, but I am highly convinced that the world would be a better place if more and more people learn human-computer interaction methods.

Professor Laura Dabbish and I used some of the principles for writing a paper on designing software for production support. We have used a lot of concepts for our work on SeeMail, and I’m very excited about what we are going to do with this in the future.

The quiet obligation

It goes without saying that the present gloomy realities is hard on many people. I have seen many of my friends trying to grapple with the rough side of life. I have drawn inspiration from my heroes who have endured even in the face of insurmountable odds. Whatever the uncertainties of our times, and however emotionally draining they can be,  you have to plough on with perseverance. One has an obligation to keep going, unperturbed and focused. Short-term setbacks must be viewed in the right perspective, for they are what they are – things that will soon pass. There is no other qualitly that is more powerful than perseverance.

The learning machine embedded in the deep recesses of your thoughts needs to be given a chance. The quiet obligation must be kept and by so doing being the best that you humanly can.

There are many golden things that are waiting on the horizon.

It’s not been too long ago that I met you for the first time. Time has flown by in a whisker, and I can’t believe that I’ve spent so much time with you already. Every time that I meet you, it feels as though I’ve known you since ages – that we’ve been friends for a very very long time. I cast my eyes on you all the time, because they are drawn towards you, just like a sunflower that tries to look the sun all the time. Gradually over the course of these many months, I have observed many things about you – those of your traits that are visible, those that cannot been be seen, and those that can be known only by a close friend.

Your penchant to make me smile is unparalleled. You are so talented, yet so unassuming. You’ve taught me many life-changing lessons. Your grit and tenacity is legend, and your embrace of hard work is infectious. I’ve met the most magnificent of human beings through you. You listen to me so patiently, and I feel very good when I’m with you. I feel so good that I want to spend more  time with you.

The countdown towards December has begun, and with each moment that passes, my affection towards you seems to be growing. There are many things that I can see on the horizon. Which of those brights things will be forthcoming, I cannot say. What what I can do is reaffirm is my absolute faith in you. In us.

For anyone who knows and understands you, my dear Carnegie Mellon, you are the noble flower of the sun.

I was walking towards my advisor’s office last week, and read a remarkable quotation pasted on the office door. It said that there was no other trait greater than the power of persistence. There really is no substitute for hard work and practice. There are no shortcuts and no lazy paths. No superficial tricks. Not even just pure talent.

As a new semester begins, things have to be put into perspective. I am working with some of the most brilliant academic minds in this magnificent place. I have a deep sense of admiration towards my advisor. I love Carnegie Mellon. I am also surrounded by wonderful friends. I am, as a function of being surrounded by such extraodrinary human beings, obliged to be at my very best. As my determination deepens, a new sun rises. I can feel it. Quietly, but surely, the ground beneath my feet has shifted.

New and sparkling things are coming.

As a child, I was fortunate to have lived with extraordinary grandparents. I’ve spent so much time with all four of my grandparents from the time I was born to the day that they left earthly life. They’ve had such a deep and rich impact on me, that it is hard for me to imagine where or what I would be without them. I still remember in vivid and great detail all my experiences with them – they are still so fresh and clear in my mind that it seems only yesterday that they were still with me.

My paternal grandparents were and are symbols of the great qualities that are old as the word old itself. They are such potent examples of the power of knowledge and the pursuit of answers to unanswered questions. They showed me the importance of discipline and focus, and taught me that neither the application of knowledge nor empathy on its own can do much on their own. It is only when determination meets the application of knowledge that a larger cause can be served.

My grandfather and my irreplacable aunts with the then US Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger

My grandmother was a graduate at a time when women entering higher education was unheard of in India all those decades ago. She was, in her own right a modern woman who was generations ahead of her times. I’ve watched her bake some of the most complex cakes and western dishes when people less than half her age stood next to her, watching her talents in awe. She could write classy letters in English with such absurd ease, drafting numerous memos and bank letters that were all beyond the level of so many her age. I’ve listened to her talk about the political class in Washington, of the kind of people that she sees in the world, and of how they must be dealt with. I was really very fond of her. I used to rush home from school in anticipation of her jam sandwiches and her cookies. We played carrom. We talked about homework and the world from the perspective of a child. I was rather privileged to spend all that time with her. However surreal I may sound, I wish for that experience again.

My grandfather was a genius and an extraordinary human being. He was India’s first cardiologist, way back in 1957-58. The significance of that statement will likely be dwarfed by the innumerable awards and honors that he received throughout his life. He was a fellow in the elite groups of researchers in the field of cardiology, physiology and endocrinology – fellow of the American College of Cardiology, Fellow of the American College of Physicians, The Royal College of Cardiology and numerous other Indian chapters he established. He was an active researcher, publishing dozens of influential papers in the latest advances in cardiology. He also wrote at least three text books in medicine, and was the leading force behind many research programs in India.

President Shankar Dayal Sharma presenting the BC Roy National Award to my grandfather at Rashrapathi Bhavan

But it is the application of knowledge with determination that has repercussions for a larger cause. More than his sharp intellectual acumen and the depth of his understanding of the field of medicine, it is his service that bears everlasting testimony to his greatness. He helped establish the Jayadeva Institute of Cardiology in Bangalore, a government -aided institution that treats cardiac patients – giving hope to the countless low and middle-class people who have and will fall victims to cardiac diseases. He helped create a research fund for young and upcoming researchers in the field of cardiology, and has taught and mentored dozens of eminent people – from blue-baby heart surgeons to elite neurophysicians. The President of India conferred on him one of the highest civilian honors for a doctor – for being a doyen of the field of cardiology and for his tireless service to the country. As a child, I have spent so much time with him that it is only fair to say that much of my political, social anc economic philosophies bear his strong imprints. I have had many long and deep conversations with him on many topics – from sport to politics to research questions. I really think that all the time that I spent with him can only be described as divine.

We are all bound by our experiences and the people who influence us during our upbringing. They will always continue to be an influence on you, tempering your positions and opinions, your beliefs and your values. Though my paternal grandparents are not with me anymore, their values and their visions of the world are still alive because I carry their genes. If on certain occasions I feel their absence, I only have to walk outside and watch the clear night sky. For they have taken their place amongst luminous, heavenly bodies as magnificent and brilliant stars. I can see them, and  feel their presence. They are guiding lights,  the life-force behind everything I intend to do and everything that lies on the horizon. They will back me in my endeavors. They are a cosmic source of strength.

They are my exemplars.

I sit under this night sky, my eyes fixed on the on the sheer grandeur of the sight above me. I try to think of a word to describe this sight, but it just eludes me. How is it, I ask myself, that a sight that is so simple be so powerful as to rob me of my lexicon?

I realize very quickly that I am a lucky soul – that whatever I am and whatever I will be, is because of those that have given it all. I realize that wherever I go, I meet people that are as good as the word itself. I also realize that hard work will never go unrewarded, and good things always come in full circles.The past few weeks have been nothing short of incredible.  I have met such remarkable people during this time, that is hard to describe in full measure how excited and happy I am.

The collective  nobility of people and hard work – of those that have been, those that are, and those that have not yet come to pass have conspired for goodness of what lies ahead. Opportunities galore and the resolve deepens. A guiding light emerges.

The North Star has risen.

There are some things that cannot be forecasted. There are others which can. And there are those things that defy the most accurate of predictions. I sit and wonder – will the future be the past or will it outshine all others? Challenges line up one after the other, seemingly daunting, occasionally herculean. Opportunities present themselves, bringing with them ideas and hope. There is a choice to be made. Either one can be swallowed by the challenges and be lost in their self-pity or one can seize the opportunities and bring forth the brightest and noblest in themselves.

Spring 2009 has been such a magical ride. I have worked with some of the most brilliant professors and interacted with very smart peers. I cannot say how fond I am of the iBike project – of the gargantuan nature of the research problem and of the influential impact that it will have throughout America. Professor Robert Hampshire is a genius who has the extraordinary ability to transform a complex real world problem like bike sharing into a system of mathematical equations. I still avidly remember the picture of him with John Nash when he was a student at Princeton. Working with him has been the opportunity of a lifetime.

I am equally fortunate to be working for the EmailBuddy project. Professor Laura Dabbish is a remarkable individual who can view a problem such as email overload through the lens of cognitive pyschology, visual interfaces and organizational behavior at the same time. Every single discussion that I have  with her inspires me to generate more ideas.

It is sometimes really unbelievable when you are surrounded by extraordinary people all the time. More so when they are protective of you and give you a sense of belonging and warmth that can only be described as magical. Everywhere I go here in Carnegie Mellon, I am surrounded by people who make me feel cared for and I feel really happy. I am so proud of my friends Karen Mesko, Nolan Leavitt, Keith Clark,  Shantnu Chandel and Vasundhara Garg. They are pristine blossoms, stellar symbols of all that is sparkling and admirable.

Spring is so beautiful.

I approached you like a wild gander let loose from the denseness of the woods. Looking back at it in hindsight, I can vouch that I was brash and unkempt. But you were not uncomfortable. You nodded at me acknowledgingly, and you were still wearing your smile. I felt at ease at once. I felt good.

Well, there’s been no looking back ever since. From that golden moment since I first met you, I have come to know better with every chance. Every single time I meet you, it is as though I am getting closer to you. You exude warmth when the weather is bitterly cold. You seem oblivious to the chill factor of the blizzard-like winds. Whether its snowing, or whether its dull and dreary, you never seem to lose your sense of balance, your sense of proportion and your sense of purpose. Even in the meanest of hours, when hope seems to be the only companion, you always keep pumping me up. You stand behind me, resolute and steadfast, asking me to solder on and just do my job. With each passing day, I grow so fond of you and the fondness keeps growing. It feels healthy and and it feels good.

There you are, so noble and so human. Even with all  your erring, you still make me so happy. You are a good witness to all things bright and beautiful. Above all malice. Devoid of any malcontent. Your beauty, both internal and external, is stuck in my mind. I confess myself smitten, I confess myself enchanted.

So just as it was on when I first met you, our journey of discovery continues. I remain forever curious. So long as the eye can see, I will treasure you. You are so beautiful. You are Carnegie Mellon.

I’ve written almost a thousand lines of code this week. I love PHP. Modeling and discerning bike-usage patterns in Paris is an ongoing opportunity of a lifetime. More so because there are fifty thousand linear order differential equations, waiting to solved, waiting for some creative approaches from outside the proverbial box. Professor Hampshire showed me a picture of him with the legendary John Nash – I feel rather privileged to be working with him on the iBike project.

I seem to have realized the  unseemingly witty fact that each course, no matter how lunatic or useless or sleep-inducing, can be tweaked under a clever force of will until you get exactly what you want from that course. Shantan Rao seems to have discovered this the best. It’s important to mention that it is likely his approaches are slightly different from that of mine:P

My extraordinary friend Karen has commanded me to read The Reluctant Fundamentalist. I’ve been reading almost every night for an hour before I fall asleep, and its been very fascinating.

As I find myself listening to Hans Zimmer and in the warmth of my room while writing this, I should say that the best thing about this week was a sweet glass of red zinfandel, of which I savored every sip. My friends have always called me a kid, but I think I am growing up. I’m fond of my friends.

The cherry blossoms color a most sparkling April.

I suppose I was the only one to do this assignment. I would watch the weather report at ten minutes to six o’clock every day. I  simply liked the way it was being presented. Neat and polished, in brevity, but classy. I’d watch the weather report whenever I got the chance.

But one day, I tuned in rather early, and the main news was still being aired. It was Nik Gowing. I listened to it for about fifteen minutes and I thought that the main news was even more classier than the weather reports. I somehow liked it a lot. Since then, I started to watch BBC World’s flagship new programme called ‘The World Today’ so regularly that it even made it to my study time table.

Well there’s been no looking back ever since. I started learning new things about the world and my general knowledge far surpassed that of my peers. I started scoring kickass grades with absurd ease at school. In fact, I walked in to a world history exam without much preparation and ‘maxed’ it. My teachers were so fond of me, and I of them.

Watching BBC World has had such a huge transformational impact on me that I shudder to imagine what I would have been if I had never watched that weather report back in my seventh grade. I still watch the channel everyday. Whether it was the announcement of the new European currency or NATO’s blistering operations in Kosovo, the channel remains one of the finest in the world – generations ahead of the other major news networks.

And so even the teeniest of incidents can bring about an avalanche of transformational change – change that can make one polished, well-read and classy. Three cheers to BBC World.

These are my favorite shows on the channel:

When I watched Elizabeth Gilbert’s talk on nurturing creativity, I felt a natural surge of empathy towards her. While it may very well be that creativity comes at a cost, to think of it as a burden would be inappropriate. By no stretch of imagination can creativity be described as something that can consume the life out of an individual. While it may be true that many great creators in history have suffered an early affliction or even premature death, blaming it on creativity is missing the point. Creativity does not ‘consume’ a person until he or she is left to languish with what remains of their mortal selves.

I see creativity as a source to sustain, strengthen and grow human potential. One can wield its enormous force by channeling it for mastery and self-competition in a skill. An increasing body of evidence suggests a strong linkage between positive thinking on cognition, which enhances creativity. I like this model of thinking. I like it because it reaffirms my view that positive thinking forms the basis of things novel and ingenious. Creative people are not just those that sit in ivory towers. One might as well get his best ideas when he is jogging or even having a warm and lovely shower.

Perhaps there was never a better time to emphasize the importance of unleashing one’s creativity. In times such as these, when gloom is all that you are surrounded with until you are left with nothing but raw hope, creativity can be your best friend. School is such a magnificent time to be creative. And I am so glad that I trying to do just that. I absolutely adore my research and feel a sense of excitement and liberation that cannot be expressed verbally. I love working with my research peers and my Professors and I have increasingly become very fond of them.

If you have ever paused to think what it was like to get lost in playing with Lego blocks or using crayons in a paint book, you are likely to be be wanting to do it again. The good news is that while we have outgrown Lego block and crayons, they are still around – only that their form and complexity has changed. We can still spot them if we know where to look. There’s plenty for everyone in school.

If you are one of those morbid readers of this blog waiting to give me a piece of your mind, I suggest that you examine the evidence that I have presented before trying to douse my thinking. If you find yourself passing through difficult times, as we all are, then this is your clarion call for action.

Unleash your creative clout. Spring is here. Even the the most bitter winter has to pass.

I look back in hindsight and doubt if there was ever a time that was as turbulent as they are now. Sometimes its feels as if I am merely meandering. During others, it feels like progress. It is half as bad to be in a state of certainty than to be in a flux, where emotions seem to sway with the frequency of a pendulum. Feeling hopeful during one instant and crestfallen during the next. Never have I had to pass through such a test of fire. Never have I had to cope with so many harsh predicaments at the same time.

It seems only yesterday when I graduated out of high school, when I was in the midst of bliss and innocence. The period between then and now seems to have gone by in a whisker, somehow mysteriously compressed. The transformation from a world of pampering and care to that where you are left to fend for yourself is like a rude awakening from a wonderful dream. I miss my family very much. I miss my home and my room. I daresay that I this was one of my goals, and admit that I have adapted fairly well. I have learned so many life-altering skills over the last six months, but this has not come without the aches. I refuse to be in self-pity, comparing myself to the  countless other heartrending stories that I see around me. But there is no denying that I am dealing with a lot change that is very new to me. Hard work and determination have always been my forte, and I have the faith that when there is a clear purpose and a willingness to be relentless in its pursuit, things will eventually fall into place. Living on hope is better than being a parasite feeding on misery. As one of my inspirational heroes recently said, even in the face of challenges, one has an obligation to be of good cheer, and of strong heart, as the attempt to do good should continue unfettered.

One piece of advice that I got recently was to live the life of a student to the fullest, as these years will never come back. I have been told that I take life too seriously, that I ought to free myself, to live life as it should be. I think that I agree. In so many ways, there are so many interesting and wonderful things in things in this world. I attended the Pittsburgh Symphony last week, and I returned home with the fondness for classical music rekindled. It was as if there was a message in it for me – that whilst it is true that circumstances around us cannot be controlled, our thoughts can be. I suppose we are what we think and how we think, and the manner in which we act. I am happy to be friends with a bunch of remarkable human beings that have had the great privilege of meeting these past months. Shantnu Chandel, a true Cottonian and a fierce friend. Keith Clark, Karen Mesko and Nolan Leavitt. These are extraordinary people. They embody the finest threads of American culture and represent all that is bright and noble in the American way of life.

And thus even when it seems as if you are meandering and cannot look beyond your fixated gaze, life is more than just what it appears to be. So long as my dreams outnumber my memories, there is every reason to live it fully. I love my school. I love my research, and I love my friends.

Challenges galore amidst the backdrop of rough and testing times, only to strengthen my resolve. As has been said before, I’ll fall, I’ll flag, I’ll falter, yet I will find my way.

As your faith is strengthened you will find that there is no longer the need to have a sense of control, that things will flow as they will, and that you will flow with them, to your great delight and benefit.  ~Emmanuel

Though I have faltered, time and again over the past year, I know that there is much to learn and much to do. With all my shortcomings and my erring, I am still cloaked in the same values that mean so much to me. A familiar challenge looms large, but I want to and will emerge victorious – for that it is what it is meant to be. I am simply humbled by what has been given to me and I am absolutely determined to make the best use of it. This task cannot be accomplished without the power and grace of the Maker, and every fiber in me reasserts the faith that this will continue.

In the words of  Zig Ziglar, Ambition, fueled by compassion, wisdom and integrity, is a powerful force for good that will turn the wheels of industry and open the doors of opportunity for you and countless others.
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There is much to look forward to. Much to accomplish. Much to work for. And I shall do it. A glowing epoch begins.

But it cannot be held hostage for too long. Inspirational figures crop up from the most unlikely of places, acting as powerful reminders of what must be done and why they must be done. They serve as potent symbols of all things that are noble, things that have been noble, and even some noble things that have not come to pass – making a forceful case for a determined, concerted, yet calm and resourceful mind.

And thus from the ashes of the abyss rises a mind very much like a Phoenix, with a spirit anew and a focus calm and sharpened.

No other album of his has been more endearing to me than his scores for The Holiday. Whether I like the movie because of his scores or like the scores because of the movie is unknown, but I do listen to it ever so often.

If you are dear to me, chances are that you have already been recommended to his music. If you have not listened to this album, you definitely should. Start with the track called Maestro.

I am quite convinced that most of the blessings that we enjoy and take for granted in our everyday lives is the result of one person’s hard and unrelenting work at some point in time. Those that did that great things in the past could not have possibly done them without hard work. As to quote a genius himself,  genius is one percent inspiration and ninety percent perspiration. What a remarkable thought, I said to myself.

Here at the place where I study, arguably one of the most prolific places of learning on this planet, I see the patterns of that thought woven into its every fabric. I look to my professors and my peers in my school and I see in them an unspoken and noble willingness to work. To build and learn something worthy, it seems, takes nothing less than hard work. And to learn about the value of working hard and how to work hard, are by themselves a powerful set of skills that cannot be reversed.

I have found that hard work is always rewarded,  and that no drop of sweat or midnight oil burnt is a wastage. Andrew Carnegie, Carnegie Mellon’s founding philanthropist, was an ardent and keen worker, who believed in the value of work. So much so, that our motto is ‘my heart is in work’.

I will strive to live up to this motto. It is, as Einstein said, a golden thread of inspiration that continues into every generation, inspiring those who read it to make a noble affirmation to work and to love work. And so shall this motto be one of my own.

My heart is in my work.

I am so humbled and grateful that I am a student in Carnegie Mellon, one of the world’s most illustrious and profound centers of learning. I have come here because of those who have nourished and given me an upbringing that is second to none. My parents have given me everything and more I have ever asked for. To come here with the tools and  resources that I need, tells me that I am a very privileged soul. It fills me with a sense of determination to make the most of my God-given potential, always mindful of who I am, where I come from and who sent me here. And this is how it will always be.

I intend to learn and to listen. I want to assimilate and to ordain. And I want to experience and relish. I look forward to exchanging as many ideas and perspectives that I can with all the brilliant minds that I meet with everyday.

Another step forward then, into that ineffable journey that I call my own, gleaming with an aspiration that must be accomplished. Pristine and resonant.

As the great American poet Ella Wheeler once said,

“There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.”

An auspicious Odyssey has commenced.

Learning from one’s experiences is the key, be it episodes of stark mistakes or high feats. I’ve always wondered how some people stumble in life, but stand up right back. I think it is because they know that it is not our experiences that decide who we really are, but the way in which we respond to them. Our response, therefore defines our personality and our individuality.

I’ve had some magical moments in the past two months. I regret to say that some of those experiences cannot be mentioned in this post . I’ve seen that we are likely to meet all kinds of people in our everyday life. Some are worthy of our acquaintance, while others are deserve to be our bosom pals. There are others, who in the end turn out to be no better than a rat’s posterior. And there it ends.

I’ve learned so much in the past two months. I have experienced a kind of independence that is very hard to explain – a liberation of sorts ; a realization that what matters at the end of the day is my attitude and my perception.

I am blessed, and owe it to my faith and to my upbringing to be a learning machine in my life, and go to bed a little wiser than what I was in the morning.

It is called faith and simplicity. There are some basic values – time-tested attributes of life that form the bedrock of who we are and what we stand for. Honesty, integrity, a stubborn insistence on self-discipline and an intense readiness for hard work are qualities that insulate a human-being against all possible attacks of negativity. It shields a person, creating a powerful circle of defense against the lows and problems that one is bound to encounter during all phases of his or her life. Those that have overcome enormous obstacles are those that have these qualities in abundance. And there is no reason why every person cannot nurture these qualities.

Over the past couple of months, I have realized that too much of analysis and premeditation is quite ineffective. We may all have wonderful thoughts and extremely noble ideas, but they are at the end of it all what they really are – just thoughts. So as nobly formed and as intensely felt as they are, thoughts are not action. They are just thoughts. Thoughts need to be translated into action, for our actions define our habits and our habits define who we really are. The right thing to do then is to translate thoughts and words into action. It is as simple as that. But the benefits are wide-reaching and permanent.

There is a new beginning on the anvil. The era of empty talk and mere thoughts are over. I will strive to to transform these very ideas into action – to take a resolute stand that personal discipline cannot be compromised, to deepen the willingness to work hard and to trust in the basic, enduring values that will help me to make the most of my God-given potential.

This is about being tough and resilient, and about being anchored in the fundamental principles that are the very essence of life. Action is faith and faith is action. For faith without action is not faith – it is an woefully empty chain of fleeting thoughts. As William Shakespeare said, “Be great in act, as you have been in thought“.

As I tried to stand back and try to observe myself from the point of view of an objective observer, I found certain startling things that otherwise I would have scarcely imagined. I discovered that I was attaching far too much importance to what to other people thought of me. Not once did I realize that it is really not good to allow your state of mind to be controlled and affected by what others think of you. Second, I had made, rather unwittingly, a certain pool of friends as the centre of my life. Friends are important, and there can be no doubt that they are to be cherished. But to make them the central focal point of everything is wrong. I have found that it makes one very vulnerable, much like the clueless puppet which obeys the person who holds its strings. Friends that understand you for what you are, and respect your views and stand up for you when you need it the most are those that are few and far-fetched. Those are the ones whose pats and brickbats can both be taken in the same vein.

Charlie Munger, in his address to this year’s USC graduating law class, made some observations that resonated very well with me. According to him, there is no such love which can be greater than admiration-based love. Munger said that self-pity is the worst thing that can ever happen to anyone. And he’s too right. To dwell endlessly and to constantly ponder over what we think is our apparent victimization is a self-defeating mode to be in. There can be no help to the one who chooses to diminish his self-worth. One of the strongest virtues that anyone can have is to simply like yourself – to understand that everyone is born unique, and that the qualities and attributes that you define who you are is really the best part of you. All men and women are created equal. That is a much hackneyed phrase. But very true nonetheless.

The choice is therefore clear. As Stephen Covey says, reactive people are those who get influenced by what others think of them. They feel happy when somebody is nice to them, and feel down if the weather is bad. Proactive people, on the other hand, are those whose strength is derived from basic, enduring values. They are value-based. Their sense of self-worth stems from the values that stand for, and they are value-centric. Value centric, as opposed to being friends-centric or people-centric. I think I completely agree with Covey. The time has come for me to put myself first before many other things in life – the time to understand that it is only our values that will last forever and not other people.

Over the past few months, I have met with some truly admirable people. Ganesh Ram Natarajan, the dynamic and humble lad whose insights about people and life are something quite remarkable. Krish, the stalwart icon of toughness, who has become my mentor now. I am extremely thankful to him; he’s ready with his advice when I need it the most. Jayashree Venkatesh, the girl whose relentless focus on self-improvement is almost infectious.

What a paradigm shift I’ve undergone through the last couple of weeks. It startles me that I had so many drawbacks and still I never realized that I had them. Things are very different now, and things will take a turn for the better now. I can vouch for it. The time of crawling with the needless baggage of melancholy is over. The time is to march ahead full gusto is here. The beacon should burn brightly and the phoenix must rise. For that is what they are meant to be.

Yahooo!

Thanks to all the people who have helped me for this. The beacon shines brightly.

” Human beings have an inalienable right to invent themselves “
- Germaine Greer.

What I should have done differently, or how better I should have done things – I do not know. Looking back in hindsight, I cannot see what mistakes I could have possibly done. These are testing times. And its been quite painful.

It is in these troubling times that I ought to summon those basic, most enduring beliefs that I once taught myself. I will not allow situations that are beyond my control to get the better of me and bring me to brink of shedding tears. I will not bow to this pressure of pessimism, and I will not trade my confidence for diffidence. My faith in God stands unshakable. He is my stalwart friend and ally. And he is on my side. That suffcies. The bells of St.Peters ring again.

I am determined to ride out this storm. I will emerge stronger. Bertie Charles Forbes once said “He who has faith has an inward reservoir of courage, hope, confidence, calmness, and assuring trust that all will come out well – even though to the world it may appear to come out most badly.”

I choose to be steadfast and resolute during these testing times.

I am back after my trip to Kukke Subhramanya, a magnificent sacred place nested whtin the picturesque hills of the Western Ghats. I was a little hesitant to visit it at first, but I lost my apprehensions once I reached the place.

I really enjoyed watching all the greenery that surrounds this truly unique place. My face and lungs, conditioned to breathing dirty air here in Bangalore, welcomed the atmosphere that bathes Kukke. I am convinced that it is delusion that we lead comfortable lives in our cities. Nothing could be more further from the truth. We live in concrete jungles, with little affection for greenery, and afflict our bodies to the mercy of all dreaful chemicals imaginable. This is a great disadvantage, for man was never born to live like this. I have decided therefore to get back to nature – to appreciate greenery and spend more time with it.

The devout fervour with which the people come to Kukke is really inspiring. They come early in the morning, after their bathing ablutions in the holy river, dressed in pure vasthras that gleam white. They come with folded hands, offering their prayers to him. They pray not only for themselves but for all who are dear to them. They pray for health and happiness, two of the most important purposes for a man’s existence. And when they eat his prasada and head back, their faces glow serenity and bliss, for they must feel self-assured that their prayers have indeed reached God.

I earnestly pray and hope that I become a better human being after this trip.

The classy iPod turned 5 today. Though I got my one of my own just a year back, I cannot but appreciate it every single time that I use it. The iPOD is a testimony to Apple’s creativity and ingenuity, things that are in short supply in their erstwhile competitors.

Not only is the iPOD so sleek and compact, its LCD display interface is crystal perfect. Never mind if I have to recharge the battery more frequently. The first time that I saw a image tag of a song in its entirity on the screen, I was stunned to see such clarity, and that too on such a small scale.

Apple was clever to separate iTunes and the iPod. Adding, updating and deleting songs can all be done on the computer, and the iPod is to be used only for listening. I doubt if any other company could have come up with a clear and smart separation like Apple did. Not to mention that the sound quality is almost as good as that of a Bose audio player.

There are many copycats trying to bring out their own versions of the music players. I really doubt if any of them will be as appealing and enduring as the iPod
is. Steve Jobs and the guys at Apple must be congratulated for giving us a smart , sleek and sexy device that I have thoroughly enjoyed

Don’t Get Lost In The Crowd

You are the one that keeps your dream alive

And you are the one who feels the rhythm deep inside

Do you ever wonder if you can make you fly?

But you will never know, if you don’t really try

There’s so many fast framesQuick cuts and a million stars

Can make you wonder

Can make you dream ahead from the start

When you know your heart and follow your own destiny

Don’t get lost in the crowd

Be the one to be strong and turn heads around

Even from dark to light

You are the spark

You have the fire

You are the heart

Now be a believer

Don’t get lost in the crowd -

- Ashley Ballard

Make me a channel of your peace
It is pardoning that we are pardoned
In giving to all men that we receive;
And in dying that we’re born to eternal life.

The days have been flying at pace faster than the wink of an eye. Much has happened over the course of the past three years. In fact, quite a lot. There have been many happy moments. Occasions when I’ve been thoroughly satisfied and pleased. Yet there has been a flicker of a thought that says I can and should be doing much better. I’ve always been conscious of this thought. The very fact that it has lingered so long is proof that it has burrowed itself in the deep recesses of my mind.

It was a foolish blunder on my part not to have studied hard and to have made my way into one of the IIT’s. I got into a top college nonetheless, but the past three years have been far from satisfactory. It’s been frustrating, and I know it. All said and done, I settled for something that was second best. Second best not because it was imposed on me, but I chose to impose it on myself. And that is something that I am not proud of at all.

Why does one willingly and knowingly abandon the right course of action in life and regret it later? Why did I choose procratination over hard work, and trade common sense for sluggishness? These are questions that I have to answer. I cannot wish them away.

It is true that I have not lived up to my own expectations. But since when has life been a smooth affair for anyone? People make mistakes, and I’ve made mine. But the important thing for me is not to ponder over something that cannot be undone. Nothing can be done about milk that has already been split.

The time has come to cast myself into the future. I have an aim in mind – a goal that I desperately want to achieve. I am cognizant of what it takes to reach that goal post. There can be no substitute for hard work, and no replacement for discipline, for even the longest and most treacherous of journeys cannot be made without them.

I find the phoenix to be a most amazing creature. When it grows weak, it bursts into flames and reduces itself to ashes. But then it regrows from those very ashes, back again to a bird worthy of awe – a bird which can carry enormous weights and whose tears have healing powers.

The phoenix must rise.

In the quiet ambience of a chamber, lies the Hobbit. Everything in the chamber is in kilter. The pervading calmly atmosphere within its walls hides that which cannot be seen. The Hobbit mills around steadily, careful to keep himself composed but alert. Composed so that he can muster all the energy that he can, alert so that he can channel it to a cause that comes calling.

A spirit of fire blazes within the Hobbit, who has prepared for the task before him. War is looming. This is a war unlike any other, for there are no enemies to slay. The real foe lies within. A foe that is unperceptible, yet a bottleneck which cannot be ignored.

The great mass of Mount Behemoth stands before the Hobbit. To win the war, the Hobbit must climb its treacherous contours. Mount Behemoth is an aggregation of the forces of procrastination, of laziness, and of ineptitude. Only the one who conquers these vices can climb this structure. It stands there, as an eloquent witness to the weakness that all men are born with.

This is a test of twenty one days. The Hobbit is aware that not even the hardest hours of work and preparation will suffice in the absence of divine support. God is always with the Hobbit.The Hobbit asks for forgiveness for all the wrongs that he might have committed. The Hobbit knows not of any other true friend. Such is the power of the Maker.

The fiery spear of sheer faith, grit and resolve is coming. Not even Mount Behemoth can stand in its way.

Lead kindly light.

I dont remember the first time that I heard of Pope John Paul II. Must have been in standard seven. That seems such a long time ago if truth be told. Time, as always, just keeps flying and we amble along, unable to slow matters.

Born in the Polish town of Krakov, this humble soul has touched lives like no one else in that capacity, in a papacy that lasted for almost twenty seven years.

My trysts with destiny brought me close to my grandparents. I have seen my grandmother and grandfather in their last years, and by so doing, I’ve been lucky to perceive and witness the thought, temper and innocence of old age. That degree of proximity is the priviliege of a lucky few. I am so thankful to count myself amongst them.

To have seen this Pope alongside my ailing grandmother was perhaps the single significant factor to build this special bond with his papacy. Pope John Paul’s beatification of Mother Teresa of Calcutta and his last visit to India are still fresh in my mind. But perhaps the most poignant memory of him would be his trip to the holy land.

As he touched down at Jerusalem’s airport, he was received by Ehud Barak, the then Israeli Prime Minister. Suffering from parkinson’s disease was so evident, but mattered so little to the man, as a mound of earth in a tray was given to him for the ritualistic tradition of kissing the soil.

At the church of the Holy Sepelchre, the Pope knelt down to kiss and pray at what is believed to be the tomb of Christ. As he knelt there praying, tears trickled down his face and fell on the tomb’s pavement. I was touched. The Pope had my heart. He had my respect.

It is this kind of pure devotion, and the love for human lives in all its diversity that has won him the hearts of so many. Whether it’s the sight of him releasing doves, kissing a baby or reaching out to young people in the crowd, he will always be remembered for being a people’s Pope, a Pope who travelled far and wide for a cause so pure and inspiring, that it touched people of every religious background.

The world has war mongerers and invaders. The world has terrorists who believe in the spilling of innocent blood. You can always find such people, but you cannot find another John Paul.

He is no longer Pope John Paull II. He is Pope John Paul the Great. A great soul whose life is a living example that there still is good in the world. Even in his manner of dying, he has exemplified human dignity.

I count myself amongst the lucky few woh’ve been able to watch his funeral- a man whose universal appeal is eternal. In moments when I’m down and sad, moments that call for resolve and courage, the picture that flashes in my mind are those of the Vatican with its ceremonial bell ringing. Such is the impact the this Pope has had on me.

Lead kindly light.

Written by Muthaiyah Bhagavathar- the asthana vidhan of the Mysore Kingdom, Mathey is a classical carnatic song which inspires the mind, soothes senses and celebrates the greatness of the ultimate giver of life.

Mathe Malaya dhwaja pandya samjathe mathanga vadana guha(4)
Mathe Malaya dhwaja pandya samjathe mathanga vadana guha(21)
Sakodari sankari Chamundeswari chandrakaladari thaye gouri(5)
DADA nidadani dadanida danipama
DADA nirisani sadanisa dapapama
DADA nigarini risanida panidama
DADA magamapa mapa dada nini dama
DADA risanida ni da da madanima ni
DADA sasapada ni da da magarisa ni
DADA pa DA da ni DA da saDA
niDA magari sani da nisanini dada pama Data
sakala kala nipuna chathura Data vividha matha samaya samarasa Data sulabha hrudaya madhura vachana Data sarasa ruchira tara swaralaya Geetha sukada nija bhava rasikavara dhata Mahisha suranada nalmadi srikrishna rajendra nadaya Sada pore mahitha harikesa manohare sadaya Mathe Malaya dhwaja pandya samjathe mathanga vadana guha (11/2) Shyame sakala bhuvana sarva bhoume sasi mandala madhyaga (5)
1.MA,MA, pani dada papa magamapa MA,MA, nida MAsani dapadada(2)
Shyame sakala bhuvana sarva bhoume sasi mandala madhyaga
2.nidanida dapapama
PAPA nidapama gamaPA nidaMA sanidapa MAnida(2)
Shyame sakala bhuvana sarva bhoume sasi mandala madhyaga
3.saSAsa nidanisa niDApa magamapa maMAma samagama pasanida NI;
(7) nidani padani mapadani gamapadani samagama padani samagari sasanida pada Shyame sakala bhuvana sarva bhoume sasi mandala madhyaga

Another month draws to a close. I’ve just finished taking my second internals. I’ve done well. So it is that time again when the mind is free to think and reflect on the direction that life is heading towards.

I had planned a lot for this month. I may not have done all the things that I would have liked to have done, but it’s been a satisfying month nonetheless.

There were a lot of bottlenecks and hurdles this month. Most of it created by an over-sensitive mind, but some borne out of the recklessness of others.

My goals thus far are evidently clear. I recognise the importance of this particular period in my life. I think every effort that I can make, every source of strength that I can find and every positive thought that I can muster matters.

During the past month, I have recognised those who are with me and those that I had assumed were with me. My list of close friends has diminished this month. Irreparable, permanent damage has been done to two bonds of friendship in particular. I wish these people well, for they are good souls. But I cannot linger anymore. Life comes calling and I have to amble along.

I am so blissfully happy to have Ro, and to have God. I have no closer friend than God. He is my guide, my critic, and my biggest source of strength. He will never abandon me, for my heart confirms that he wont. He will show me the path towards the milestone, and give me the power to bear the painful obstacles that lie within. He is my rock.

This particular period is mine to conquer. I should not waste it, for it will not be given to me again. In my quest to reach the milestone, I may fall or falter or flag, but I will not shed my individuality and my sense of purpose. The path towards the North Gate may not have many people in it, but is the only path that I wish to take.

The road towards the North Gate is spread in front of me. There it runs, as a living testimonial to human feat and human challenges.

I will find a way. Lead kindly light.

One great work of literature often conspires with another to proclaim the same set of ideas. Ideas that have inspired great thinkers for generations, ideas that have remained in place since the inception of mankind. Being as they are, in existence for countless centuries without the slightest of changes, they are no longer mere ideas. They are the fundamental truths that drive the immaterial essence of individual life – that which fuel the part of the soul which directs the individual in his life.

When I first read Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead, I didn’t have the foggiest of clues about the sheer power of the book. A philosophical masterpiece written by one of the most awe inspiring figures in the history of literature. People had forewarned me that understanding the book would be daunting, and that the language would be unreadably convoluted. Ayn Rand, as rightly pointed out by one observer, writes beautifully, brilliantly and bitterly. For me, reading the book was nothing less than a churning experience – a acrid experience which shook me off my intellectual grandstanding.

The essence of the novel is man’s integrity. I have many plans for my future. I am astutely aware of the purpose of my life and the directions that it should take. Making plans, strategising and analysing makes a good beginning. But a good beginning is a job half done. The real test lies in the implementation, in the actual act of performing it all. Despite my best efforts, I am often enslaved to nototious habits that I have inherited from a dappler of sources. Simple tasks like turning up at the promised time for a date, or getting into class five minutes before it begins – have all appeared to have taken the backseat. I now realise how important these things are – that I am in fact cheating myself.

If I cannot do the things that I promise myself, then that is the end of all things. That not only shows the callous view I have of my own worth, but also points towards lack of integrity.

Integrity in life, at least to oneself is important. I am so glad and happy that I read the Fountainhead. As Shakespeare said about four hundred years ago ‘ the brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree’. A wonderful instance of two literary geniuses reinforcing a common idea. Proof of the fact that personal integrity is a fundamental virtue of any individual.

Lead kindly light.

Planet earth likens itself with a burning furnace. The cast iron now emerges, after dwelling twenty years in the furnace. Earthly impurities linger, although the mantle is purged of unworthy traits. The next stage in the journey has arrived; the mantel is now the protagonist.

The Beacon of Afflatus stands aloft on top of a landmass higher than the highest peak, amidst a thick blanket of fog. There, on the stalwart rocks of faith, stands a hobbit, with the mantel piece in his little hand. Thoughts of the last Pontiff and of the mission sweep through him. An angel called Ro stands beside him. In his right hand he holds the mantel bearing the fire; with his left he pours the oils of Chamarajpet into the firewood of the beacon.

He plunges the flame into the wood, conscious and informed of the magnitude of the task in front of him. The wood bursts into flames, and the Beacon of Afflatus if lit. Hope and eagerness fills the hobbit. He can even hear the great bell of St. Peters ringing – a sign from the grotto that’ll he’ll never be alone.

The Beacons have been lit. Aspiration and optimism are kindled. The hobbit’s diminutive steps might seem naïve and insignificant, but even the smallest of steps can change the course of the future.

Women are undoubtedly the casualties of a male dominated society. That violence and oppression hinders women all around the world is a fact that besmirches all humanity. The inalienable rights of women to lead an independent, full life is in tune with the universal sense of justice.

But as is so often the case with the ideologies and movements of our times, this noble idea of giving women more rights in the name of gender equality has gone a step too far in some domains. I object to this inexcusable sheltering in the name of gender equality.

Right through school and beyond, the boys are told that it is always a guy who walks up to a girl and starts the course of friendship. It is a pious law for some girls to compulsorily wait for a boy to come upto to them and introduce himself. Anytihing that follows – a date, a prom party or a proposal for wedlock – they all have to emanate from the boy. Why cannot the female sex do some of these things for a change ? Why mount the burden of initiative only on the male?

I’d like to know how many boys proposed to girls on this planet since the time of Adam and Eve. I’d also like to know how many girls did the same things to boys. I’d also love to know how many girls actually give something to their boyfriends on Valentine’s day. How many girls pay the bills of dinner on a date? Let us count the figures on both sides and compare them for argument’s sake.

What does one see when this comparison is made? A glaring disparity of an over-stretched idea, an uneven stack of figures that puts the male sex in the limelight of scrutiny. The image now is not of someone dominating society, but of someone who struggles for the better half of his life trying everything in his power to woo the fairer sex. I say with impunity that some men spend indeed an entire life for it.

Male dominance in society, violence and crime against women – they deserve to be condemned in the harshest terms possible. But I also condemn the caviler attitude of women towards men who try to do so much to woo them. Whoever said that the male hormone testosterone makes him more eager to seek a partner is right. But whoever thinks that the female sex dont have urges and naturally dont find the need to take the first move, is a numskull.

Men have feelings, even if it is hidden in a mask of manliness. Men have a heart too. Which means they are as palpable to pain as women are. Men get hurt too. Which ever girl runs away when boy who likes her talks to her affects him so. And how many times have I heard the hackneyed catchphrase of our times saying ‘ How can you talk/behave/do that to a girl’.

My simple question, which I beg you to consider is just this – why doesn’t anyone say ‘ How can you talk/behave/do that to him’ ?

For all the men and boys who have been sad because someone of the opposite sex turned him down or was indifferent to him, I say this -don’t be proud to be strong, but don’t be afraid to be weak either.

John Keats – To Hope

When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;
Brightening the half veil’d face of heaven afar:
So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,
Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,
Waving thy silver pinions o’er my head!

That we know so little about our own bodies is truely unfortunate. That we regularly choose to insult our bodies through our acts of physical inaction and mental ineptitude is mournful. Most of us have a some understanding of the human body and what is right for it. But for some baffling reason, we often to do what is wrong for it and not pause to realise that we’ve done ourselves more harm than good.

Physical sluggishness and a sedantary lifestyle is perhaps the most commonly found traits in people. Spending hours in front of a TV, leaning slothfully on a couch while ingesting unhealthy snacks is decidedly disagreeable. Spending hours in front of a computer, or playing video games for instance- all fall in the same category.

If this laziness was’nt enough, we also harm our bodies through the grey matter that exists between our ears. Most of us get angered or provoked easily, wear our hearts on our sleeves and take in far too much emotion than what a human would probably need. We have degenerated into building a lifestyle where we eat and sleep at wierd times. We almost deliberately upset our own biological clocks, and by so doing, denied our bodies the chance to settle into their rhythmic cylces where they function at their best.

Three years ago, I was more or less a person who exemplified all the above qualites. In other words, I did not have a life. It was at this time that I decided to go to the gym everyday.

Exercising has had stunningly remarkable effects on me. Not only has it helped me stay healthy physically, it has also made me mentally strong. Whoever framed the sentence ‘ A healthybody results in a healthy mind’ is a wise one.

Whenever a person exercises for a reasonable period of time, the body releases a natural hormone known as the endorphin. This magical biochemical is responsible for producing a feeling of well being and a calming effect on the mind. Hardly surprising then that I feel so good after I come back from the gym.

I should and will always continue to exercise.

Having a good home, incredible parents, a truly lovely sister and a childhood fostered in the care of magnificent grandparents are things that I ought to be eternally grateful for. Right through my school and now in college I have had the privilege of having a wonderful circle of friends and being under the guidance of some of the best teachers that one could possible ask for.

My father and mother have always given me anything I craved for. It is true that I have shined well academically every single year of my existence. But does academic brilliance alone suffice what I can give back to my parents? I think not.

I have a strong feeling that I am here on this planet for a mission. It is not for nothing that I have been given the ability to sense and perceive things that other people my age cannot. It is not for no reason that I have been blessed with intelligence that has the potential to take me places ( I say this without the slightest trace of conceit). It is also not a mere coincidence that my skills at language and writing are in the realms of being termed as talents.

In keeping with all the things that I’ve mentioned above, I think one thing is clear. I need to use my multifold talents and inherent capacity to make it big in my life. I need to use them to elevate myself into a postion of authority. Only when I am in a position of authority and influence will I have the power to be an instrument of change in this world – to be an agent to bring about change. Change, in tune with my up bringing, my core ideologies and my strong views and beliefs.

I need to start my journey now – now is the time that is ripe. Now is the time that I have be strong in act, as I have been in thought. There is only one person that will be my sole, irreplacable and powerful friend to take me through this journey, and that is God. I have no other friend who listens to me and who has done so much for me. I have no other friend with whom I speak to so often. He alone is my rock. And I say with impunity that he will never fail me or desert me.

Perhaps the song that would best decribe this journey of mine is Enya’s ‘My Book of Days’ . She has the voice of angel.

Book Of Days – Enya
One day, one night, one moment
My dreams could be tomorrow
One step, one fall, one falter
East or West,
Over earth or by ocean
One way to be my journey
This way could be my Book of Days

No day, no night, no moment
Can hold me back from trying One flag, one fall, one falter
I’ll find my day maybe Far and Away Far and Away
One day, one night one moment
With a dream to be leaving
One step, one fall, one falter
Find a new world across a wide ocean
This way became my journey
This day brings together Far and Away
This day brings together Far and Away Far and Away.

Not too long ago, it so happened that I approached a teacher for a seemingly unconventional problem. Some may prefer to call it a sea of blues. Inability to concentrate fully in class, a study timetable in absolute tatters and an unrestrained, flaring temper were just a few symptoms. The aforementioned teacher, whose sagacity I deeply admire, looked up at me and considered me for a while. She then pointed the finger of suspicion on stress. The very idea of a student suffering from stress seemed ridiculous to me at that moment. But as I discovered at my own cost later, she was very much correct.

It is only natural in these circumstances, that one wonders why school life was so much different. I used to travel the same distance to school, have similar working hours and similar academic loads. Yet, despite all of this, the question of why school was so much more enjoyable compared to college remains unanswered. Palpably absurd? Not in the slightest.

The answer to this perhaps lies in the transition from teenage years to adulthood, where priorities and attitudes undergo a sea change. As one enters into the realms of adulthood, the influence of wild teen hormones somewhat diminishes (although not completely) and reaches a plateau. I believe that this transition is of paramount importance in the life of any individual, and the challenges during these crucial years have to be enlisted, and dealt with all the advice and wisdom that one can muster.

During these transition years, career and social goals are often uppermost in the minds of most people. I take these to be obvious. But as with so many things in this ever-changing world, the challenges that one faces during these years are so crucial, that they invariably decide the direction of the future. They can mould you a bright future, or leave you crippled for life –a fact that is all too often taken lightly.

Whilst one of the main challenges is to maintain a balance between academic, extracurricular and personal activities, an even greater challenge is to achieve this in the most stress free way possible. As school kids, we stick to our daily regimen without complaining and lead relatively stress free lives. But transition into adulthood brings along with it a whole host of choices, and we become slaves to bad habits, laziness standing out as the most prominent.

It is beyond doubt that a certain minimal amount of stress is unavoidable and cannot be eliminated. The BBC’s documentary “Explorations” apocalyptically warns that stress hormones will ultimately ebb the immune system and prove to be fatal to human survival. Stress, as I would put it, is clearly a major challenge in the life of any young adult and one must learn to deal with it adequately.

Early adulthood also marks the period of peak intellectual growth and physical prowess. This is a time to expand one’s intellect and creativity, to form opinions and to vouch for strong personal beliefs. Yet, I regret to say that most universities in India, needless to mention the VTU, have done next to nothing to stimulate creativity and enhance one’s intellect. Churning out record number of professionals every year with strong technical backgrounds, but with little creativity and a primitive mindset is like having a fully adorned chariot without the horses. It is a complete travesty and is utterly meaningless. For any young undergraduate such as us, the ability to widen one’s horizons beyond the walls of academics and university syllabi should clearly be a major challenge.

Having said the things that I have above, there is one other challenge whose importance comes above all others. The immensity of this challenge is such that it applies equally to any other person as it does to a young adult. Perhaps the greatest challenge facing the young generation today is to develop qualities of tolerance and rational thinking. In a world ruled by hate-ideologies and uncertainty, where malice and violence are in blanket abundance, tolerance and empathy are indispensable. This is an age where petty politics, personal vendetta, factionalism and patronage systems are in dominance. India has 600 million people under the age of 30. If these young people are to change the course of the future of this country, they cannot do it without these virtues.

Tolerance towards the views, rights and achievements of others, empathy towards parents (albeit with a generation gap) and others alike are key traits, which every person should try to emulate. If one becomes a major in software programming and achieves high academic feats, but has little tolerance and empathy, then his education is as useless as a one armed juggler. I’m reminded of the words of the great Helen Keller, who once said “The highest result of any education is tolerance.” I suppose it is needless to elaborate further. Helen Keller is undoubtedly right, and if we go by her words above, then George Bush and Tony Blair hold the dubious distinction of being the most illiterate leaders of the west to have been reelected twice.

I’d like to conclude by saying that college life is a time of excitement, triumph and personal happenings, as well as one of great many challenges. Anyone who ignores these challenges or is oblivious to them is doing so at his own peril. The ominous task of balancing the various chores of life, of fine-tuning the mind and carving our own pathways to the future is daunting no doubt, but not unachievable. There is a vast difference in being child-like and in being childish. I’m convinced that these challenges, when dealt with the right approaches, will contribute to a bright future for oneself, and an even brighter future for the wider world. As we pass through the rough stretches of college life –with its new opportunities and experiences, we must tackle these challenges.

Karthik Dinakar

So the time has come to call this my space, to transform all those wonderful ideas and experiences into words, all for the world to see.

Whilst remaining true to myself, I will write my mind – just me, myself and my thoughts, with no strings attached.

So watch me.