Second Life

Michael looked up at the mirror as he swept the floor. He had never liked what he saw until then and today was no different. He was in his late twenties and yet he had never accepted himself for what he was. It was a cocktail of mixed feelings, anger, pain, disgust and pity. That was all he felt, all he could feel. A short life flashing by in no time. With a name so common his features stood out like Quasimodo. He wished atleast a name like Quasimodo might have provided some escape.

All his childhood had been in an orphanage. Being queer is difficult enough but handling it alone cannot be expressed. His emotions were the result of what he had experienced. Kids are cruel. He was generally the subject of the others frustrations, mostly the butt of their jokes, often bullied, occasionally pitied. The pity was from the adults he did not relate to or his peers who were gentler. Loneliness gave him solace and comfort but beyond that every-time he looked to grab something else he was taught treachery. His disfigured face could barely show emotion, not that anyone would care. Some kids just called his parents ugly names. That didn't bother him too much. Had never known them. It was when they made fun of him that it hurt.

The caretaker sent him to therapy in his teens. Michael was always alone, stammered when he spoke was always afraid, she said. Others got adopted, he was just a gargoyle in the new building. Therapy taught him pity though. As he waited for his turn, he eavesdropped on Paul. Paul had been there after a failed suicide attempt, slitting his wrists. Paul claimed that it was just an experiment in pain gone wrong. He was really happy. Sure he wanted to know what pain was but since he was happy he couldn't attain it. Almost like looking left and right at the same time. They had almost sacked the caretaker over that but Paul's confession saved her. She wanted to take no chances with Michael. As Paul came out of the room he tried to talk to him seeing the fear in the poor kid's eyes. The fear soon turned to disgust and Michael broke down in front of the therapist.

Now after all he didn't know why he remembered this incident. Life outside had been better. He was left alone mostly. He no longer cared about the stares and the whispers. Most people left him alone and the occasional pity could now be an advantage. That was how he landed the job at the library. It was out of the town so it had almost no visitors. The books were falling apart but no one cared. Some people who came there were just at the wrong address, the guard sent them away. He too would mind his own business as the books were of no interest to a partly deaf, mostly blind family man about to retire. They had both understood that neither wanted each others company and both afforded the other the pleasure of ignorance.

Books though served Michael with the luxury of a microscope to the outer world. Initially he believed all he read as does everyone. Slowly he saw through the deliberate lies and finally through accidental ones. Everyone who wrote had their views he thought. Some as they wished to see the society others as they perceived it and still others who believed their limited vision. Michael knew very little of other things but he knew fakes well enough to be skeptical of everything. Everyone's perception is different he believed and if you relied on another man's thoughts then you fooled yourself. There was a sinister side to life he felt that no one saw through or wanted to see through and thinkers focused on the mundane perceptions instead. Society itself was the fearsome guardian that hid the secret for all he saw was an ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail. It may not seem so to anyone else but that was the most unnatural and blasphemous vision for him.

There was no point in dwelling in the past, to further open his mind, to break free of his shackles, he needed to look beyond what he had been taught or had learnt. He popped in a few sleeping pills, held the wire tightly. The electricity through it would jolt him enough to keep him awake despite the pills. He then ate a few mushrooms. As he felt them come back up he washed them down with some vile spirit. The shocks kept him up though as he felt his insides burn.

He saw a boy approach. The kid was in his late teens or more. Well built, his face had the beauty and innocence of a cherub and had a sight of familiarity about him. Michael knew him but couldn't place him. He wanted to smile but there was a feeling of despair as he noticed the familiarity. The boy asked him if he wanted the truth, Michael nodded. "There is no going back though once you know it" the boy warned. "I have no need to go back. This is all I need" said Michael.

"Very well then" The boy smiled as he understood Michael's desperation.
"It is as you thought. Yin and Yang are not balanced or existent. The world is a collective conscience. There is no creation but for our thoughts." The boy held the leaf of a plant nearby. Michael had not noticed the plant earlier. He held it as a new parent embraces a child, lovingly yet afraid of touching it as though it were so brittle it would crumble in the wind alone. The boy continued "We are all as these leaves, tied to the plant. Physically we all are like plants. Evolution apparently was not smart enough to give us forms like humans or even animals. They are but the product of our imagination."

"All we did was stick in the ground and grow and die. Over eons we merged all our conscience. We had no purpose so we dreamt up the world as you have seen it. Future generations were born in the dreams and died in the dreams. Life gave them a purpose with its yin and yang. There are no dualities in the real world, Earth as you do not know is very different. Some may even call it beautiful. Freedom from the dream as you shall now realize is step into another prison. You shall be disconnected as the truth will set you free and wake you up as you have chosen. There you shall have the single path of survival. It is not difficult but it is a boring road as we have seen. The only prize to be won there is peace."

Business Trip

Disclaimer: All characters including the author, situations and locations appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, fake persons, living, dead or undead, is purely coincidental and unintentional.

The traveler picked up his boarding pass, glad to be rid of the heavy suitcase. The carry bag was heavy but manageable. Still to declare a few things at the customs, he dragged his feet to the emigration counter to wrap up formalities. He was traveling for the umpteenth time and hoping he would have a break for a while after the trip. Filling up the form required while standing in the line, he realized he still didn't remember the date of issue. Swearing softly under his breath he balanced the form, his passport and the pen before he managed to scrawl it illegibly. The line was not too long but standing when you would rather be sleeping does make a person review the virtues of patience.

He would have rather been listening to music but headphones in this area might just cause unnecessary headaches. His turn came soon enough. Giving up his passport and the form, he surveyed the people around. He had been doing that until then but that was to look for the an empty counter. The current survey was just to look at fellow travelers and kill those last moments before he could have some Hindustani classical blaring into his ears. The officer in front of him would every now and then look at him, check a few names on the computer, search all immediate relatives' names on the passport and cross verify, confirm the purpose of travel. That is what the officer was paid for, to make sure all was well.

This was when the conversation at the next counter really pulled his interests. For some reason the traveller had started listening to it before it had gotten interesting. The other counters were far and silent but things would not have changed even if they had been noisy and cramped.

Man in front of the counter: Main business ke liye jaa raha hoon.
Officer: kaisa business?
Man..: Wahaan par company hai meri.
O: Teri company hai ya tu usme kaam karta hai?
M: Meri company hai.
O: Accha toh tu wahaan ek baar gaya aur tune wahaan company khadi kar di.
M: Jee sir.
O: Kitne din tha wahaan?
M: 7 din sirjee.
O: Maane 7 din mein tune puri company banaa di woh bhi foreign mein.
M: Haanjee
O: Apne aap ko Dirubhai Ambani samajhta hai kya. 7 din mein company banaayega.
M: ...
O: Umar kitni hai be teri?
M: 25

Note: Guru - a movie with a plot-line similar to the life of Dirubhai Ambani had released in the not so distant past.
At this point our traveler was amused. Well people do travel for business at the age of 25 but well this guy for some reason didn't look the part. He of course didn't know English at all, his Hindi was broken with an unfamiliar and unpleasant accent. He was not really disheveled but was one sneeze away from being called that. Of course all this still does not prove anything related to the man's competence so our traveler strained to hear some more.

O: 25 saal aur baahar main 7 din ke andar company chalaa di. Tu toh Dirubahi Ambani se bhi mahaan hai. Tere jaise 10-12 launde aur aa jaaye toh desh toh bahut aage nikal jaayega.
M: Nahi sirjee, sach bataa rahe hai...
O: Mujhe bevakoof samjha hai kya. Yeh sab document leke aa. Kahani suna raha hai kya?

Dejectedly the man walked away from the counter digging into his shiny folder of papers. He disappeared from the view of the traveler for a few seconds as he looked for non-existent papers in an invisible corner. He was back soon enough though.

M (very softly): Sir main aapko gift dena chaahta hoon.
O: Kya? Kya bol raha hai?
M: Sir aapke liye gift hai. Please le lijiye.
O (looking at it): ...

At this point the officer at the traveler's counter stamped the traveler's passport and asked him to move on. Well the traveler too decided it was time. Sometimes you do not want to listen to the end of the story. When Old Yeller gets rabies, you know the ending is tragic no matter what happens. He carried on towards customs. He heard no more and he had certainly wanted to hear no more. He already knew how that story ended.

I hate luv storys, a review

This movie is bad enough to be unwatchable yet not so bad that it is good. In that sense, it achieves the perfect balance to be truly horrible. Some jokes are funny, the rest are not taken from any English sitcom. The movie tries to make fun of sickeningly sweet love movies and becomes one in the process akin to a headmaster confiscating a playboy from a student and then ogling at it later.

Ample dream sequence songs for you to go to the restroom, puke, get more pop corn, rinse and repeat. The songs themselves have all the makings of all the wrong things there are: bad music, worse singing and exotic locations to make you not look at the previous all while pretending to be making fun of the same. Acting of course is as good as the zombies in a Ramsay bros movie. Everyone manages to be at their B-grade best with expressions taken right out of an office meeting throughout, despite the location and situation. Characters are stereotypical with about as much depth as a puddle.

The director is as decisive as a kid in a toy store who can pick just one toy. It rambles on randomly being a spoof at one moment, melodramatic the next and as sweet as an overripe mango the very next. Recommended for anyone who needs a lobotomy and cannot afford one. Ran away from it the moment the pop corn ran out. Would not be able to survive the climatic monologue which I am sure will be coming up.

Belief

Pay heed to the news,
A house of mirrors that reflects all.
Listen to gossip,
There be no smoke sans fire.
Trust thine kin, the bonds of blood,
Water but quenches innocent thirst.
Bow to the five senses,
The doors and windows of a haunted mansion.
Humor the kith,
Reflections of choice.
Ponder on words of reason, a wise man's ramblings,
Advice, is seldom offered at a price.
Look out to the heavens,
The holiest of all jests.
Believe in peace,
In the truth of the void.

Application

Its been a rainy day in Jerusalem. Was stuck in a very nice combination of heavy duty wind and and some unreliable rain on my way back from the office. Looking out of the cab window I noticed how beautiful the diffraction patterns on the foggy windshield made for some spectacular viewing. Optics of course is a more interesting physics piece in photography. And here I was remembering my classes from school and college.

Onwards to the point now. There's been a lot of flak directed at the education system especially at the college levels of knowledge transfer. More so in the recent times especially after a few ground-breaking reforms from the education ministry side and in no small measure from the movie "3 idiots". Heard quite a few complaints from people around me as prior murmurs turned to dissents of a louder kind.

The first thing that comes up is usually the fact that so much emphasis is put on rote learning that it kills creativity. Performance is quantized (pardon my lack of a more apt synonym due to my limited lexicon) on the basis of a standardized grading which is unfair and inadequate. The reason given as the incompetence, lack of dedication, unimaginative attitude of those imparting knowledge. Ironically as a professor of mine once said "Those who can do it, the rest teach". The fact with the industry doing its best to suck talent and the system and alumni unwilling to innovate for their oft unheralded alma mater, this is not going to change. It is probably the best the system can churn out and it may not be stupendous but it is much better than as it is being framed. Most of these teachers give as they received changing very little.

I saw a blog by a journalist which slams the movie in question for raising a finger against the system and although I agree with her on the fact that our education system does the best or maybe better with what it has, I do not agree that the movie truly shunned the system. Maybe a few individuals who impose but not really the system. What it really does raise a point about is the fact that the learners in fact never utilize it. Each one receives the same but only a few read between the lines and a fewer still read beyond the lines. If the system was wrong, the anomaly would not exist. It is in human nature to blame and change others rather than adapt which is pretty much the story of human evolution.

To touch upon the statistics on suicides in schools and colleges as a rational thought and analysis would desensitize the loss of life. Somewhere changes need to take place to work with the system rather than against it. Few have gone against it and come out on top. So few that their names are used as examples when they should be exceptions. To use the system is a sign of growth and innovation. It should not, nay, cannot be taught. You either teach yourself that or learn it on your own. The system is a platform to leap off not an elevator to get to the top. To expect it to spoon feed free thought is like asking a computer to have fun on your behalf. The practical application of theory must be observed, pursued and understood, not served on a platter.

Closing thoughts (Warning: I believe you may not like or agree with my following point of view): The same bricks build a mansion and a crude shelter. If all bricks were only used to make mansions, then a mansion wouldn't be worth much. We need the crowd for the deserving to stand above it. The system needs to churn out ordinaries so that the extraordinary may climb above it. Not everyone can follow their heart and find excellence, life does not permit it, somewhere a balance needs to be reached. Some can have it all and that they must. Equality is only good for ideals.

Choosing my Galactic guidance

The Fermi paradox caught my eye a few days back. A little Calvin and Hobbes quote seemed created with Fermi's feelings precisely - "Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us." A little more digging into the Drake equation and, a load of conspiracy theories and a couple of alien movies (district 9 and Avatar in 3D) later I was still like a puppy in London with a road-map of New York. The patterns are similar but something felt totally out of place. Ok the movies were just for fun.

I dusted off my hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy and although it provided lots of entertainment and another entry on my impossible list of things that I must have, it did not provide much insight into what I was actually looking for. Just to clarify what I wanted was a feasible and probable solution to the paradox which seemed a little less far fetched as compared to the others. Wiki does give a lot of options in that regard, from the ones that make you go "They're heeeerrrreeee!!!!" in a freaky little girl's voice to a gruff "Welcome to Earth" as in Will Smith (Independence day).

Drake's equation provides a lot of possibilities but the variation in the assumption of the parameters is just too huge to even attempt a valid assumption of the answer. The one definite result from it all is the criticism of it looks very valid. A random stumble to the Schrödinger's cat problem messed my mind up a little but then I decided using that in these equations was certainly way off target.

Anyhow, my final thoughts on these are pretty much summarized by my limited knowledge of the universe. It is infinite is my supposition and my fanatic belief. Hence as per simple probability theorems, if there is a finite (even infinitesimal) probability of an occurrence then it certainly occurs due to the infinite repetition. Restated as since the universe is infinite, if it is possible, it is probable and so it is happening. Either somewhere in time or somewhere in space or both. In my opinion in both as I consider time meaningless and space as infinite (fanatic belief, no questions permitted on this statement). Which probably means we haven't seen any action as this part of the universe has no visible action for us.

Digging deeper into the above conclusion, I came to see some extremely disturbing causality patterns. A set of dominoes set up were falling into a pattern which is a little discernible but does not take into consideration present choice. Or as the Oracle in the matrix would say "Because you didn't come here to make the choice, you've already made it". Life itself does seem like that at best or way worse. Where certain choices that may seem unique to every individual maybe the rational consequence of a series of environmental, biological(genetic and natural) and other miscellaneous background experiences brought upon the biological entity (who has the so called "choice") through random probability. So then this writing was the result of a continuous falling of dominoes. Hope the aliens are reading. But then again maybe the Flying Spaghetti Monster is going to erase it all with its mysterious invisible tentacles.