Random Post of the Day I

Why does one FALL in love? If love is so wonderful then why doesn't one RISE in love or SOAR in love?

Sin City

I very rarely write a post within an hour of an event happening (one may argue that I rarely write a post in the first place), but this is something that I have to write about right here, right now. In another fortnight, the year 2006 will dawn upon us. There's nothing intrinsically special about the year itself (it's not even a leap year), but the way in which the students of the National Law School will herald its coming is noteworthy.

As final year students, we bear the costs of the college party, in keeping with tradition. About half an hour ago, the Event Management Gurus of the class (Nitin, Grrrish, Tuffloo) outlined the plan for the New Year "Party". The first phrase which struck me on hearing the same was the title of this post, "Sin City". Why? Read on....

Venue: Some Random Farmhouse about 50-60 km outside Bangalore police limits
Description of venue: In Nitin's words, "Lots of side attractions". In plain English, the place has dance floors at three levels (which makes it convenient for some tipsy person to dance off the floor to join the others at the lower levels, or at least endeavour to), a swimming pool (where some unfortunate drunks will no doubt end up, much to their shock and chargin) and uninterrupted power supply (so much for rural power cuts). The crowning achievement of this place is that it's surrounded by 150 (one hundred and fifty) acres of woodland, with no lighting. Another side attraction is that there are 20 tents available for those who want greater privacy than the darkness could provide.

Look, I mean, without any need for diplomatic language, this "party" sounds like one of those nights of which events could send the newpapers crazy with a million MMS scandals rolled into one night. Get what I mean? No? Then let me put it in plainer English. The cover of the trees and the darkness, combined with the mellowing effects of a quart or so of vodka, would without a shadow of doubt get the testesterone and whatever-it-is-called-for-the-girls-hormone raging through the bloodstreams of erstwhile respectable students of an elite university...

I am a liberal person by philosophy in most matters, but this is something which would shock the collective conscience of liberal minded persons in society. A boozy, smoky, dopey new year blitz (which we have had all these years) is bad enough, but if you give amorous couples ("real" couples as well as one-night-only couples) this much room, we may need a maternity ward on campus, I say!!! Further, it will be impossible to cut out the dope, which has been somewhat possible with a smaller venue over the years.

Apart from the moral issues, there are also issues of safety. Being outside police limits saves the cost of obtaining permits, paying bribes, etc, but let's face it - the police are quite effective as keepers of the peace. They will be around within shouting distance (let's not delve into the reasons why police constables hang around within shouting distance of new year parties) if any trouble arises at a more "normal" party. In fact, there have been incidents where random goonda-looking people have attempted to gatecrash our parties (once the incomparable Vinay Sitapati showed some true Dutch courage in the face of a drunk rowdy), but the cops have been of help in such situations. Fifty kilometres outside police limits is fifty kilometres away from help in an emergency. Even in case of any other emergency (ask Saluja - he found himself in the ICU after some overenthusiastic consumption of the bubbly), this place is out in the boondocks. It may be argued that someone will drive over to Bangalore to fetch help in case of trouble, but the simple counter to it is that how many drivers will be found in a sober enough state to first drive back to Bangalore and secondly to bring back help?

Whatever may be the point of all this raving by me, I have also paid up for it. I am jointly and severally responsible for anything that happens therein. So all I can say now is, "Happy fucking fellas..."

The Footpath Jam

Bangalore is remarkable for its constant evolution (read as devolution) and its innovative spirit in finding new problems to dog its citizens. Like any big metropolis in the world, it has its massive monstrosities called malls, its over-hyped and overpriced "hep" shopping areas, its decadent night life and its milling millions, but there aer some things which are unique to Namma Bengaluru.

A classic example was on display on (where else?) BTM main road. A recent survey had shown that although techies (software professionals and other high-tech engineers) form only a tenth of Bangalore's workforce, they contribute to more than three-quarters of its vehicles. And since BTM main road is one of two roads that lead to Electronic City (I seriously envy Rome, as it is never short of roads leading to it, meaning there are no traffic jams), there are about a lakh or so vehicles in a feverish rush to the hallowed acres of Electronic City within the span of an hour. In such a situation, every inch of road gained is a victory for any motorist over his rivals. As is the case in any battle, there are those that are cleverer than the others, and there are those that are more resourceful than the others. Therefore, it didn't take much time for a clever techie (what an oxymoron!!) to come to the conclusion that since there are more vehicles than pedestrians on the road, the former must have preferential rights over the footpath too. So he heaved his two-wheeler onto the footpath, a move which earned him the respect and admiration of his fellow motorists and the curses of the pedestrians, and rode away at the speed of 20 kilometres an hour, at least ten times faster than his rivals on the road. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. The other motorists were not far behind in emulating the pioneer, and that day, those who went to office by car had a tough time explaining why they were held up by the traffic while others (read as the followers of our pioneer's example) made it in time.

Fast forward to the next morning. The Pioneer and his followers took their usual route up the footpath. The driver of a sand-laden lorry had a flash of inspiration. (The next time scientists record a gorilla or a chimpanzee getting a brainwave, I must make it a point to inform them that the aforesaid driver had achieved the same result in out-of-laboratory conditions.) He thought, "Arrey! When these puny motorbikes can go so fast on the footpath, what is there to prevent my huge lorry from doing the same? Who do these dwarfs think they are? I'll show them...." That was the end of that. What a sight it was for jobless onlookers like me!! There was this huge, heavily laden lorry trying to waltz onto the footpath. An elephant might have given us a breathtaking ballet performance, but this lorry was definitely out of its depths here. The end result? The Pioneer and his merry band of followers were stopped in their tracks. The pedestrians, usually the coolest ones in a traffic jam because of their supreme mobility, were stuck too. The white and khaki figure of the traffic constable arrived on the scene, and apart from giving a lesson on swear words in Kannada, he could do nothing else.

The Day of the Eternal Human Jam had dawned....

An Unsolved Mystery

Much to the chargin of a large percentage of the people I know, it has never failed to mystify me as to how computer engineering or software engineering or whatever else it's called can ever be a career. I mean, come on man, HOW can one spend one's whole life in front of a computer and typing in nonsense to make a machine do something for you? If English is considered as a complex language with innumerable oddities, then I wonder what we can call even the simplest computer programming "language".... I am more shocked when I come to realise that I too had fallen into this mental madness and misconception that computer engieering is the greatest career in the world, a sure-shot way to enter George W. Bush territory. I used to believe that I would one day enter an ivy-league college and key in a program that would revolutionise the software industry... The infinitely useful gift of hindsight has helped one word to come to my lips - outrageous!! Two weeks of a non-engineering course put my mind back on track, returned me to this Earth, restored sanity in my thinking.

The bottomline is this - software engineers are slaves - slaves of the machine they spend three-quarters of their life with, and slaves of the mammoth companies which have made their fortunes on these poor engineers' plights. While it may be true that they have indirectly made everybody's lives better, they are also indirectly responsible for a large number of worries that we have today. Where would viruses, spam and hackers be if not for the advances made in the industry? O privacy, where art thou? However, I seem to be digressing here. I cannot understand how one can isolate oneself from all human interaction and yet be alive enough to carry on with life. A computer is an excellent means of communication and a toy par excellence, but is it the centre of life, the centre of existence? I have to take a leaf out of a book on jurisprudence and draw the classic difference between what ought to be and what is. In this case, hundreds of thousands of thousands of people (and many of my friends) ought not to be doing what they are doing.

Looking at it as a lawyer, I find the software engineers downright daft and as ignorant of their rights as the flood-hit, drought-hit, starvation-hit tribals from interior Orissa. The argument advanced by the engineers and the aforementioned tribals are shockingly similar - as long as we have enough to live, who gives a damn about rights? When one spends four years (and a little more, because of the stint at the ivy league Univ) in strenuous academix pursuit, does one divorce oneself from all common sense entirely? As a defence, software engineers may say that they are as much GIGO ("garbage in, garbage out") as their pet machines; hence the lack of common sense, but as a counter, I say that you don't send the computers to college, do you? These poor souls are the victims of the latest form of slavery. I have received information from reliable sources that there exists not one trade union in the entire software industry, that not a single software "professional" knows the meaning of collective bargaining. The Government websites glorify the fact that the IT industry has been spared from the ambit of a large number of labour laws. Capitalism may be the emerging world order, but we must remember that those bearing the brunt of capitalistic colonialism are also human beings having equal rights to those on the cushy end of the stick. According to me, the fault is not entirely that of capitalism, nor can it be blamed on an overenthusiastic and greedy Government. The engineers themselves have a large role to play. Can I hear someone saying, "Software professionals and zombies of the world unite!"?......

Irregularities

I must be the most irregular blogger in the world. It's been many months since my last post. Well, actually, I must be the second most irregular blogger. Krithika (http://krits.blogspot.com) hasn't updated hers for over a year I see...
What's been happening? The world's elite cricketers suddenly go off form collectively. The much-hyped World XI takes a hiding from a born-again Aussie side playing without some big names. Why on earth was an in-form VVS Laxman not played against his bunny boys? Why was Inzamam, who in the middle of a season can be described as half-awake, played in a World XI after an injury layoff and a long vacation? The selectors could easily have played Chris Gayle for an ineffective and disinterested Jacques Kallis. It's well known now that Mark Boucher is not in the same league as even Kumar Sangakkara (who, incidentally, is in swashbuckling form), let alone Adam Gilchrist. And the selectors must be given a dunce cap each for choosing Greame Smith as captain. He's unimaginative at best and clueless on other occasions. If they decided to play Inzy, they ought to have given him the captaincy too, or at least given it to someone with a cricketing brain, like Rahul Dravid. In the end, the World XI looked like a Real Madrid side - all stars, no action. I personally am of the opinion that there are two lessons to be learned from this debacle - one that a side full of big names almost never delivers, and two that such an obvious marketing stunt must never again be given an official status for the good of the game. Cricket, unlike football, is still a game between nations and without a national identity to play for, most cricketers would find it hard to concentrate on the game and not on the publicity. Readers are advised to look up CLR James' excellent book "Beyond a Boundary" to fully understand the relationship between national pride and cricket.
A second internship at Infosys gave me a few more insights into the functioning of the well-oiled machinery of India's best known IT company. An older post might have suggested a City (it's actually called the Infosys City) full of nerdy zombies, but I have discovered that there IS some life here. Perhaps the main reason for this change in attitude may be that I was inducted into an online quiz community for Infoscions (their website says that this is a mix of Infosys and Scion, a word associated with a monarch or patriarch). Nevertheless, I walked into Building 18 one evening and discovered dozens of erstwhile zombies enjoying a game of pool or table tennis or pumping iron in the state-of-the-art gymnasium or chilling out with a swim at the pool which is fit for a luxury resort or five star hotel. I also accompanied Lahar to a coffe shop on campus after dark, and found several people there sipping a cuppa and having a chat about everything under the sun. On another occasion, I was travelling to office by the company bus and a sudden braking by the driver (to avoid a bovine jaywalker) resulted in a dozing lady slamming her cheekbone into the bar in front. Several seemingly unconcerned fellow-passengers rushed to her aid. It was just a light blow, but the incident served the purpose of demonstrating the large hearts present under the nerdy exterior. Well, so much for Infosys life...
The National Law School of India University has a brand new website. The new site even features a pic of me (blush, blush...), albeit in a crowd and taken without my knowledge. But what I found intriguing was the presence of 'invisible' pages. The home page shows a link to 'check results' (http://www.nls.ac.in/academic_programmes_undergraduate_trimester_results.html), but the target page says "the results of the last trimester will be made available shortly". However, on entering this URL (http://www.nls.ac.in/results/index.html), the promised results are already available!!! So much for censorship (if that's the right word)... The next twist in the tale came when i used the search tool on the home page and looked up the term 'results'. What happens? The first link shown above never features in the search results, but the second link does!!! In a game, this might have been called a 'cheat code'...