Labels: Vini Vici Vidi
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Wednesday, June 29, 2005 - 02:06
Nobody sends me
Sunday, June 26, 2005 - 15:58
The grandfather paradox
Chapter I - "The library"
November 12th, 1999, was an unusually thunderous dark night. The occassional blinding lightning bolts revealed the darkness of the swirling clouds: threats of a heavy rain evident.
10:04 PM
Bala unaware of all these turmoils going on outside was comfortably sitting all alone in the college library with a dozen books spread in front of him. With rapt attention as if every neuron of his were firing, he jolted down quick sentences and equations onto his diary, not noticing the librarian walk up behind him.
"Listen Bala... i'm afraid i have to ask you to leave. You are the only one here. I gotto close the library and you better hurry to the hostel before it starts raining.", said the librarian.
Bala turned around, "Yes Sir, i will. Just give me a minute."
He turned towards his diary and stared at the last sentence he had written and added the words...
...alternate future ?
followed by a big question mark to the sentence and closed the diary.
Chapter II - "The man"
Outside the library, the man waited for Bala in the shadows. He was wearing a black jumpsuit with a hood and was well camouflaged. He saw the watch and muttered under his breath, "..three, two, one.. now!" and looked up. He smiled.
10:08 PM
Bala came outside the library with a couple of books in his arms. He took a look at his watch before continuing to walk in the direction of the hostel.
Bala strolled like a keyed toy, obviously very familiar with the path, careless of the deserted dark road, pre-occupied with his own thoughts and oblivion of the man who followed him in the shadows.
Bala wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He assured himself that he very close to finding the answer he was looking for, for the past six months. All he needed now was a clear mind, a cup of coffee, and his notes in the diary that he had been collecting all along.
A dry stick snapped with a soft but a loud enough sound that gave Bala a fright.
Bala turned around and saw no one. He asked, "Is anyone there?".
There was no answer but he had a weird feeling that he wasn't alone. He waited for the next lightening to illuminate the blackness. He saw nothing and started running towards the hostel.
Chapter III - "The friend"
Kannan was waiting for his roommate Bala in the lounge when he saw him enter the hostel.
"Hey Bala, i know you'll be back when the library closes. Lets go for dinner before the rain starts.", said Kannan.
"I'm not hungry. Moreover i need to complete this thing i had been working on. Im close to finishing it!", answered Bala.
"Oofu, You and your research! What is it this time?"
"You wont believe it if i told you."
"Try me." replied Kannan.
"Ok... here goes... Einstein suggested a concept called `worm-holes` in the space-time continum. It is shaped like a hourglass with two different time on both it end. I think i found a way to create a worm."
"That was all greek to me. Do you mind translating that in English?"
"Well, essentially it is the `Time machine`."
"What? Are you kidding me? You are building a time machine? Damn! What do you want to do with it?"
"Kanna, i havent thought about what i would do with it. Now that you mention it... i would propably come back to this day and watch myself explain these things to you from outside."
10:15 PM
The man hiding outside the hostel smiled cheerfully hearing Bala & Kannan talk. He opened a diary, got to the page dated November 12th and wrote "Yes" to the last question on the page.
If the subject were to disturb any of the happenings, won't it create a fork in the timeline... thus creating an alternate future ?
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November 12th, 1999, was an unusually thunderous dark night. The occassional blinding lightning bolts revealed the darkness of the swirling clouds: threats of a heavy rain evident.
10:04 PM
Bala unaware of all these turmoils going on outside was comfortably sitting all alone in the college library with a dozen books spread in front of him. With rapt attention as if every neuron of his were firing, he jolted down quick sentences and equations onto his diary, not noticing the librarian walk up behind him.
"Listen Bala... i'm afraid i have to ask you to leave. You are the only one here. I gotto close the library and you better hurry to the hostel before it starts raining.", said the librarian.
Bala turned around, "Yes Sir, i will. Just give me a minute."
He turned towards his diary and stared at the last sentence he had written and added the words...
...alternate future ?
followed by a big question mark to the sentence and closed the diary.
Chapter II - "The man"
Outside the library, the man waited for Bala in the shadows. He was wearing a black jumpsuit with a hood and was well camouflaged. He saw the watch and muttered under his breath, "..three, two, one.. now!" and looked up. He smiled.
10:08 PM
Bala came outside the library with a couple of books in his arms. He took a look at his watch before continuing to walk in the direction of the hostel.
Bala strolled like a keyed toy, obviously very familiar with the path, careless of the deserted dark road, pre-occupied with his own thoughts and oblivion of the man who followed him in the shadows.
Bala wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He assured himself that he very close to finding the answer he was looking for, for the past six months. All he needed now was a clear mind, a cup of coffee, and his notes in the diary that he had been collecting all along.
A dry stick snapped with a soft but a loud enough sound that gave Bala a fright.
Bala turned around and saw no one. He asked, "Is anyone there?".
There was no answer but he had a weird feeling that he wasn't alone. He waited for the next lightening to illuminate the blackness. He saw nothing and started running towards the hostel.
Chapter III - "The friend"
Kannan was waiting for his roommate Bala in the lounge when he saw him enter the hostel.
"Hey Bala, i know you'll be back when the library closes. Lets go for dinner before the rain starts.", said Kannan.
"I'm not hungry. Moreover i need to complete this thing i had been working on. Im close to finishing it!", answered Bala.
"Oofu, You and your research! What is it this time?"
"You wont believe it if i told you."
"Try me." replied Kannan.
"Ok... here goes... Einstein suggested a concept called `worm-holes` in the space-time continum. It is shaped like a hourglass with two different time on both it end. I think i found a way to create a worm."
"That was all greek to me. Do you mind translating that in English?"
"Well, essentially it is the `Time machine`."
"What? Are you kidding me? You are building a time machine? Damn! What do you want to do with it?"
"Kanna, i havent thought about what i would do with it. Now that you mention it... i would propably come back to this day and watch myself explain these things to you from outside."
10:15 PM
The man hiding outside the hostel smiled cheerfully hearing Bala & Kannan talk. He opened a diary, got to the page dated November 12th and wrote "Yes" to the last question on the page.
If the subject were to disturb any of the happenings, won't it create a fork in the timeline... thus creating an alternate future ?
Labels: Short Story
0 owls
Thursday, June 23, 2005 - 02:59
Filler from the "pencil" past
As im still chewing on a idea for a short story and as it seems i need time to get it into RTF format, this post is a filler. Please excuse me, i'll be back with a story.
Was going through some old files and i found out that my passion for women dates back really farther than i thought! I was 12 years when i drew this.
My other passion, Space & beyond!
When i closed the file it dawned on me that i lost many of my sketches :( Even more aggravating was that, the begging-to-be-drawn-Aishwarya-Rai-poster in my bedroom was slyly smiling down upon my broken hand... AARRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!
0 owls
Was going through some old files and i found out that my passion for women dates back really farther than i thought! I was 12 years when i drew this.
My other passion, Space & beyond!
When i closed the file it dawned on me that i lost many of my sketches :( Even more aggravating was that, the begging-to-be-drawn-Aishwarya-Rai-poster in my bedroom was slyly smiling down upon my broken hand... AARRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!
Labels: Pencil drawing
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Friday, June 17, 2005 - 07:07
Wish to fly?
And with that, i announce a temporary break for VVV. Time for some short stories! What say?
Labels: Vini Vici Vidi
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Wednesday, June 15, 2005 - 11:25
Snow walk
No, thats not exactly what Armstrong said. He missed the crucial article, `a` !
Labels: Vini Vici Vidi
0 owls
Tuesday, June 14, 2005 - 07:43
Boys and girls
Sunday, June 12, 2005 - 23:29
Ode on the anniversary
This blog has existed an year now! yayy!!
It had come quite a distance...
From self-centric musings,
to a short story & photography blog.
From the "hey machan, i started a blog, do read" mail for friends,
to the "hey! nice blog, blogrolling you" mail from a Pakistani blogger.
The drive is "creating something",
closest i can get to being a father.
The fun is "reading the comments",
closest i can get to a mother in UK.
Didn't want to reveal my identity, `S m i t h a` i called myself
but honesty never left me, `gender` column still read `male`.
Never cared for an audience, and i still don't
the drive is still there, even if my cousin in b'lore don't comment.
I will always write about thoughts/feelings i know/felt.
Thats why you are seeing kids and helmet related stories,
and not about girlfriends or lover or wife. But soon i will...
Fingers crossed, touch wood, and all that Chicago jazz
No intention of sending any "greater message" to the society
through my blog. If you find any, good for you!
If it made you smile for a nano second, thats all i care,
even if you are an uppity from Lynchburg, its not bad for you.
I have this overwhelming urge to thank all my friends, (follow the white rabbit...updated)
But i think i'll pass, i would do it personally, face to face.
But i should thank you all, the readers
and the occassional commenters, from as far as Venus!
0 owls
It had come quite a distance...
From self-centric musings,
to a short story & photography blog.
From the "hey machan, i started a blog, do read" mail for friends,
to the "hey! nice blog, blogrolling you" mail from a Pakistani blogger.
The drive is "creating something",
closest i can get to being a father.
The fun is "reading the comments",
closest i can get to a mother in UK.
Didn't want to reveal my identity, `S m i t h a` i called myself
but honesty never left me, `gender` column still read `male`.
Never cared for an audience, and i still don't
the drive is still there, even if my cousin in b'lore don't comment.
I will always write about thoughts/feelings i know/felt.
Thats why you are seeing kids and helmet related stories,
and not about girlfriends or lover or wife. But soon i will...
Fingers crossed, touch wood, and all that Chicago jazz
No intention of sending any "greater message" to the society
through my blog. If you find any, good for you!
If it made you smile for a nano second, thats all i care,
even if you are an uppity from Lynchburg, its not bad for you.
I have this overwhelming urge to thank all my friends, (follow the white rabbit...updated)
But i think i'll pass, i would do it personally, face to face.
But i should thank you all, the readers
and the occassional commenters, from as far as Venus!
Labels: Indulgent me
0 owls
I envy you
Saturday, June 11, 2005 - 11:08
The grass is always greener $
Friday, June 10, 2005 - 12:59
Fall
Thursday, June 09, 2005 - 13:09
Duty free
Tuesday, June 07, 2005 - 13:07
You are as old as you feel
Monday, June 06, 2005 - 12:04
All the proof
Note: Only after writing it completely i realised the point of view could have been better and the structure was also mediocre. You all know how lazy me is :D
Shankar, aged 10, standard 5, rank 3, was a unique little boy. He lost both his mom and dad to a road accident a couple of years ago and lived with his grandparents in his quiet, native village. The boy greaved, but recovered because of the love and affection of his grandparents. His grandfather became his mentor, his hero and his companion.
The old man understood very well what the boy was going through. He knew that the young boy looked up to him and he took over the role of a father.
Three months after the tragic incident, during a regular visit to the nearby temple, Shankar told his grandfather, "Sir, I have no faith in god. I refuse to kneel and pray before a god who took my parents away from me. I won't come inside." The old man had no answer and the fact that Shankar knew, his parents met with the accident while they were going to a temple didn't help either. He let the boy stand outside the temple while he went inside.
From then, Shankar never went to the temple or prayed to God. He refused to say prayers in the school assembly. The only time he ever joined his hands for prayer were during the pooja done for his parents every new moon day. He was happy that his grandpa respected his decision and never spoke about his lost faith again.
It changed one sunny afternoon.
Shankar was watching the other kids play, waiting for the lunch reccess to end when he saw his grandfather. It must be new moon day today and time for the pooja, he thought.
The old man said, "Lets go home, kid! I told ur teacher."
Shankar replied, "I'll get my bag, sir." and ran into his classroom.
He got the bag and informed the teacher, "Ma'am, my grandfather..."
"Yes, i heard. You can go home.", she said.
Shankar came out and started walking the five-minutes-walk towards his home with his grandfather. He liked walking with his grandfather since it brought back cheerful memories of walking with him, holding his hand, to the market and eating colorful candies when he was young.
"Grandpa, do you remember, we used to go together to the market. You would buy me those candies and chocolates from the sweet store."
"Yes kid, i remember. I actually got you some sweet. Ladoo... prasad from the temple.", said the old man and offered Shankar some.
Shankar kept walking like he didn't hear his grandfather. He never accepted any offering from the temple and his grandfather knew this.
The old man smiled and said, "Shankar, you should not go on like this. Fear of God is neccessary even though you dont believe in God."
Shankar reasoned in an almost serene voice, "Sir, i have fear in my elders. I respect them. I believe in what i see and refuse to believe in something that i have not seen or heard. How is that wrong?"
"It is nothing to do with right or wrong. It is a way of living. You are all the proof that i ever existed and you symbolise each and every one of your elders and your ancestors. I ask you to think again, without the anger, about your decision."
Shankar walked quietly for a while before he nodded yes, almost as if not wanting to disappoint his grandpa.
The old man smiled cheerfully seeing the nod from his grandson and continued, "You have learned the Gita, which says God has a purpose for His every action. One shouldn't stop believing when His actions are different from one's desire."
"But even in the bible, nobody believed Jesus until he resurrected Lazarus from the dead. Let god do a miracle. Then i would believe in him. A miracle, nothing less!", retorted Shankar.
He waited for a reply but his grandfather never did. He turned and searched but saw no one around. As his home was just around the corner he continued walking and noticed a small crowd outside his home. He walked slowly towards the mob when he saw his neighbour and asked him about the crowd.
"O dear Kid, i don't know how to tell you... but your grandfather... died this morning."
Dedication: To my grandfather, Pichamuthu, after whom me named this blog, Pichuva. Afterall... he gave me mine, Mathi.
0 owls
Shankar, aged 10, standard 5, rank 3, was a unique little boy. He lost both his mom and dad to a road accident a couple of years ago and lived with his grandparents in his quiet, native village. The boy greaved, but recovered because of the love and affection of his grandparents. His grandfather became his mentor, his hero and his companion.
The old man understood very well what the boy was going through. He knew that the young boy looked up to him and he took over the role of a father.
Three months after the tragic incident, during a regular visit to the nearby temple, Shankar told his grandfather, "Sir, I have no faith in god. I refuse to kneel and pray before a god who took my parents away from me. I won't come inside." The old man had no answer and the fact that Shankar knew, his parents met with the accident while they were going to a temple didn't help either. He let the boy stand outside the temple while he went inside.
From then, Shankar never went to the temple or prayed to God. He refused to say prayers in the school assembly. The only time he ever joined his hands for prayer were during the pooja done for his parents every new moon day. He was happy that his grandpa respected his decision and never spoke about his lost faith again.
It changed one sunny afternoon.
Shankar was watching the other kids play, waiting for the lunch reccess to end when he saw his grandfather. It must be new moon day today and time for the pooja, he thought.
The old man said, "Lets go home, kid! I told ur teacher."
Shankar replied, "I'll get my bag, sir." and ran into his classroom.
He got the bag and informed the teacher, "Ma'am, my grandfather..."
"Yes, i heard. You can go home.", she said.
Shankar came out and started walking the five-minutes-walk towards his home with his grandfather. He liked walking with his grandfather since it brought back cheerful memories of walking with him, holding his hand, to the market and eating colorful candies when he was young.
"Grandpa, do you remember, we used to go together to the market. You would buy me those candies and chocolates from the sweet store."
"Yes kid, i remember. I actually got you some sweet. Ladoo... prasad from the temple.", said the old man and offered Shankar some.
Shankar kept walking like he didn't hear his grandfather. He never accepted any offering from the temple and his grandfather knew this.
The old man smiled and said, "Shankar, you should not go on like this. Fear of God is neccessary even though you dont believe in God."
Shankar reasoned in an almost serene voice, "Sir, i have fear in my elders. I respect them. I believe in what i see and refuse to believe in something that i have not seen or heard. How is that wrong?"
"It is nothing to do with right or wrong. It is a way of living. You are all the proof that i ever existed and you symbolise each and every one of your elders and your ancestors. I ask you to think again, without the anger, about your decision."
Shankar walked quietly for a while before he nodded yes, almost as if not wanting to disappoint his grandpa.
The old man smiled cheerfully seeing the nod from his grandson and continued, "You have learned the Gita, which says God has a purpose for His every action. One shouldn't stop believing when His actions are different from one's desire."
"But even in the bible, nobody believed Jesus until he resurrected Lazarus from the dead. Let god do a miracle. Then i would believe in him. A miracle, nothing less!", retorted Shankar.
He waited for a reply but his grandfather never did. He turned and searched but saw no one around. As his home was just around the corner he continued walking and noticed a small crowd outside his home. He walked slowly towards the mob when he saw his neighbour and asked him about the crowd.
"O dear Kid, i don't know how to tell you... but your grandfather... died this morning."
Dedication: To my grandfather, Pichamuthu, after whom me named this blog, Pichuva. Afterall... he gave me mine, Mathi.
Labels: Short Story
0 owls
Wednesday, June 01, 2005 - 13:54
Arranged?
He asked the prostitute, "How much for an hour?"
His mother asked the bride's parents, "How much dowry?"
He said, "I only got 500 rupees. Good enough for half hour?"
They said, "We'll leave you two alone. Talk, say, for half hour?"
In her bedroom, she asked, "Is this your first time? I don't have all day, get going!"
He didn't know what to talk to his "would be wife". Neither did she. He finally managed, "So this is your bedroom huh? Nice."
She was furious, "What do you mean you don't have a condom?... you get a half a dozen for Rs.5... there must be a few on that drawer, take one."
She answered, "Yeah, i made it. But it wasn't filter coffee... its Bru. Rs 5 for six cups."
"What do you think, sleeping with men is my hobby? Get out of here!"
The most interesting question he could manage within the time was, "so...whats your hobby?"
P.S: Guys, this is just one perspective. Don't turn the heat on me... please :)
0 owls
His mother asked the bride's parents, "How much dowry?"
He said, "I only got 500 rupees. Good enough for half hour?"
They said, "We'll leave you two alone. Talk, say, for half hour?"
In her bedroom, she asked, "Is this your first time? I don't have all day, get going!"
He didn't know what to talk to his "would be wife". Neither did she. He finally managed, "So this is your bedroom huh? Nice."
She was furious, "What do you mean you don't have a condom?... you get a half a dozen for Rs.5... there must be a few on that drawer, take one."
She answered, "Yeah, i made it. But it wasn't filter coffee... its Bru. Rs 5 for six cups."
"What do you think, sleeping with men is my hobby? Get out of here!"
The most interesting question he could manage within the time was, "so...whats your hobby?"
P.S: Guys, this is just one perspective. Don't turn the heat on me... please :)
Labels: Short Story
0 owls