RSS Overload!

I am a big proponent of the RSS feed. Although it is not as popular as twitter or facebook, it is a great way to not miss an interesting article on a website that you may or may mot visit regularly. If you do not use it, I would highly recommend Google Reader to keep a track of websites that you like. There are others too, but being a google fan, I haven't tried them. I promise you, you will learn more about things you are passionate about than when you spend time on facebook, and you will never need to worry about missing a feed!


I have been curating my RSS feed from since my time at my undergrad. Its been 4 long years, and over the time I have accumulated a lot of feeds. I used to try trim the number of feeds once in a while, to the extent that I am really proud of my colelcted curation - and needless to say, very attached to it.

While at CMU, I absolutely didn't have time to read, however I still managed to keep up with my favorites. After CMU, I have been into a lot of stuff, including Design, Creativity, Marketing, Advertising, Tech, Startups, News from India included. And the Reader has been a faithful pet, getting to me on a digital platter, all of it..

Now for the problem.

Over a month back, I realized my RSS feed has become an addiction. I was subscribed to over 140 feeds at a point, getting over a 200 articles posted in my reader everyday! That is an incredible overload. Even at 2 articles a minute, I needed to spend close to 2 hours everyday just to not drown under the flood of feeds. On an occasional day, when I missed catching up, it was even worse. And the times when I traveled, there was simply no way I could catch up on the 1000+ unread articles by the time I got back. For such times, there was always the quick route of marking all articles as 'read'. Doing this felt really horrible. I felt like I needed to not miss stuff - its like trying to read all the newspapers for the past fortnight in one go.

Drowning under this weight, I hardly got any time to do anything else. I have a bunch of pictures from over 2 years that need processing, sharing etc. I sorely need to exercise, I rarely update this blog and I have no time to learn new things in depth. And that sucks!

So I decided to target getting down my feeds to a 100 for a start. I got there only last week, gut-wrenched to see some of the stuff I really enjoyed reading. However, if I really have to, I can always head over to those websites. A lot of these feeds posted more than 1 item everyday - and still sneaked in through my no-more-than-10-articles-per-day rule. These had to go.

After getting down to a 100, my next target is 50 feeds. This one is even harder, considering that a lot of the feeds now are my friends' blogs, or webcomics, which usually post only 1 article/day or lesser. I am almost halfway to my new target - down to 76, and I already feel better. This time however, I did not completely remove these sites from my life - I pushed them off to my twitter feed.

The twitter feed is way faster than the reader, but it doesn't show me 'unread' items, which means that I can dip in whenever I feel like it, and not have the 'unread' guilt hanging over my head. That way, presumably I can skim through more stuff.

The high-nosed may scoff that twitter has been around for a while and I should have known this before. I admit that I didn't / don't still get twitter. I hate the fact that I can miss reading something of value. However, I am ready to experiment with it for now. From now on, lots of feeds which post a lot, but in which I read only a few articles - i.e. have a low signal-to-noise ratio will have to go to twitter. The reader would continue to be a place where I add friends, and webcomics and a host of other stuff that doesn't update that often. I guess I would miss a few things, but this would make my reader much easier to clean, make twitter much more relevant to me, and my life uncluttered, happier and more hopefully more creative. In some ways, these would be two separate news providers for me. Twitter carrying the sensational, in the news stuff, while the Reader can continue to be the editorial page - to be read carefully and enjoyed.

Inspired by:
Zen Habits
Chris Brogan - who unsubscribed from over the 100,000+ people he was following on twitter.

Sidenote: Now that I am pushing more things on to twitter, I wonder if I will get to a point where my feed there gets overloaded.. So much so that I can't track it! I guess I will handle this problem when it comes to that.

A nation full of 'engineers'

Asmita smiled as she put the finishing touches on the purple horizon in her painting. It depicted the beautiful dusk she had one seen from her Aaji’s house in the village. It showed a glowing sun setting amidst the blue mountains, far away in the evening haze. Cows grazing on the yellowed landscape, and a silhouette of the dry trees parched for water, in the hot, dry Indian summer. With a last sigh, she glanced with wistful eyes at the painting as she put away her tools - her palette, paintbrushes and the oil paints she had just finished using - into the box-bed. This was the last time she would paint in a long time to come.
Rohan’s Mom called him back home for dinner just as he was about to score the last fifteen runs required for his team to win the T20 cricket match with kids from the neighboring building. “Coming Mom”, he shouted back impatiently, slightly angry. Cricket was the only thing he had ever cared about for as long as he could remember. His eyes twinkled as he faced the opposition’s bowler, his bat swinging in a wide arc, cleanly striking the ball along the pitch for a boundary. This would be the last time he played the game for the next three years.

Nakul sat crouched under the bush, patiently and noiselessly as he waited for hours for the bird to show up. He had spotted its nest just after noon. It was high up on the tree, cozy between the trunk and a thick branch, away from the wind. It was close to dusk, surely the bird must return now, as they always do. Maybe it had gone out hunting for the day, as they always do. His legs hurt from sitting all day in this position, the camera hanging around his neck, his neck sunburned. He waited with baited breath, and... There it was! She had just flown home. In a sudden rush of excitement, he clicked away furiously, capturing the bird in its full glory; swooping in on its nest, landing nimbly on the edge, trying to be fair to all the bird babies as her beak went around distributing the spoils. The chatter of the babies made him happy, joie de vivre running through him. It was the last that that camera ever clicked nature.
Today, and later in the month they will all be appearing for their engineering entrance exams. Fighting to get into the 10,000 or so seats that ‘good’ engineering colleges in the country on offer. Not one of them will get a seat. None of them will be good engineers.

Not because they are not smart. Not because they are not intelligent. It is because, they were not supposed to be engineers. They were supposed to be painters, and poets, and athletes and ornithologists, all excelling in their fields. 5 years later, they will all be working for as ‘software engineers’, working at a tiny back-office, fixing bugs created by some unseen overlord in some far away land where they have never been. Or faking accents, helping some middle aged lady in Wyoming figure out how to use the new blender she just bought.

Working for a different overlord than the one they gained ‘independence’ from 60 years ago. Or the same one.

Very few of them will actually go back to work at their passions.

Very few of them will actually do work that will change the world in some way.

Very few of them will actually be ‘independent’.

Very few of them will ever be free...

A Heaven to Compare

There was once a guy named Janardhan
Worked hard each day from eight to seven
Sometimes even till eleven!
In the hope that he would end up in heaven

Grew up in scarcity,
In school he calculated mass, velocity, density,
One of the brightest there
Destiny still forced him on a path as only she may dare,

Till yesterday he ploughed hard his field,
Cursing God for unlucky seed,
Dependent on the monsoon for his bread,
A difficult and lonely path he tread

He wished for a better life,
Away from all the strife,
On the other side the grass is always green,
In his dreams he saw a place with great sheen

A place where water was aplenty,
and the girls were dainty,
If only he could go there,
How much better he would fare

Today he was struck by lightening,
Transported to Shangri-La, in a moment delightening.
Where even in his wildest dreams he’d never been,
Here the cows were plump and the fields were green,
And he should have been as happy as ever seen!

Ever so suddenly freed of his bind,
Something yet kept pricking his mind,
He was in heaven! But he didn’t have a clue
In his mind he was ever so blue

Until God thundered, “Why so serious?”
For, no wonder, He was furious,
“What kinda bloke pines in heaven?”
To which replied Janardhan,

“Mi’Lord you see,
Now that you mention this as heaven,
I wonder myself why happy can’t I be...”

“And this may sound sappy,
This place being so free of care,
But I can’t be happy,
Despite my humble home bare,
For I ain’t got another heaven to compare!”

The Dream II

I was standing at the cliff edge. The roaring sea far below, pounding in all its majesty to my right; a small hut behind my back on the left – a poor man’s shop offering some snacks and drinks. Shabbily laid out plastic tables, not exactly new and shiny, but still offering solace to the weary traveler, and a hot cup of tea with biscuits if he so wishes. The day was hot, and the three of us had come a long way. My companions till now were – my friend, a vastly more experienced person at this kind of a thing, pointing out to me all the perils that the way had brought, unfailingly, in a way that would not be possible unless it is from the very bottom of the heart; and then there was the guide. Rugged, acquainted with the way of the mountains as well as a mountain goat, unflinchingly leading us through valleys and passes, never once unsure of his footing; as though He himself had created the rocks which we trod upon.

The journey had been challenging, but it was all towards this end. It was here which would decide the destiny, the path of all that would matter. The way down to the sea was from the left, winding, across plateaus and mountain paths. It seemed reassuring, considering that the guide and the companion were both already heading down the path. Did that look like the best way for me? I had faithfully followed them this far, unquestioning and without any harm, but was that the right way for me? Or could it be that the time had come when we split, me heading out in the search of my own destiny.

Unthinking, I veered towards the cliff edge, the waves crashing at the bottom of the cliff, threatening, menacing and unforgiving. Losing my balance, I almost careened over the edge, when suddenly I heard my name called out from the distance. It jolted me back into conscious, but I had now seen over the edge of the cliff. I had seen the sheer face of the mountain. It stood gloriously, for all these years, withstanding all the battering of the sea, the yellow sandstone gleaming under the bright hot mid-day sun. Was this it? Was I meant to take the plunge? Wouldn’t it be much faster, if not a sure shot way to reach the sea?

Just as I stood contemplating all of this, clouds gathered in the sky. As if reflecting the tumult in my mind, the environment transformed. The wind started blowing across strongly, the waves, small and calm till now transformed into large ones, dashing against the rock displaying an anger known only to them. Beyond the mountain, a twister swirled into life. The monster started snaking its way towards the cliff as I watched, transfixed, rooted to the spot.

He veered towards the cliff, threatening to swallow my people in one gulp. As I glanced towards my left, I saw the desk, with my laptop calmly resting on top. In one moment, as if deciphering my attachment to it, he moved swiftly to swallow the desk – laptop and all, never to be seen again. As pangs shot across my heart, worrying next for my beloved, the devil circled about, waiting for me to make my next move. A look of fear must have flitted across my face, because even as I regained my composure, he seemed to sense my weakness and snort at me, a smirk almost discernable within the dusty folds.

Then I saw it. Beyond the hut and the twister, stood a building, on the leeward side of the mountain, away from the sea, protected from the elements by the mountain, playing shelter to scores of children.. In a flash, my life flashed before my eyes, it was time for Qayamat – the Final Judgement. I had to decide, what I would do next. I could still dive off the cliff, and in a moment all of this picture would be behind me. I would have to count on him to be taken by surprise, and follow me into my dive leaving the others alone. I had to trust myself to land safely into the sea. If my dive failed, it would still be over quickly, I would crash onto the rocks, still spared the pain of indecision. Or I could run and join my people, the same people who I had trusted through the entire journey, and who still looked beseechingly at me through frightened eyes, ever worrying for me, the soft kindness visible even through their dilated pupils, always wishing the best for me. But I knew what he was about to do. Even as these thoughts formed in my mind, he swirled to the building – as if following my instructions, tearing apart the building, hurling innocent children to the ground, mockingly inviting me to fight, to save them, to take on a might far beyond anything I had ever dared to in my young life…

The jigsaw called life

Recently I thought of an interesting idea. All of us has an ideal picture of how our life should be. Things are never in place from the start. Life is like a jigsaw puzzle: you discover the spot where a particular piece needs to go in at as you go along.

I have thought of my picture to be 3/4th complete. I have no clue whether it is or now, but thats the mental image I had. Suddenly, when least expected, another piece falls into place and you are left delighted, with the joy that only the puzzle solver can understand! Getting each new piece is a new challenge, maybe the first few are very simple - you go to school, make friends, choose your college and what you want to major in. Then you get a girlfriend, you get a job and so on. You probably question yourself as to whether she is the right partner for you, are you stuck in a wrong job. As you grow older, if you want your picture to be perfect, the pieces are more challenging to fit in.

Each one of us wants different things in life. Likely, even the same person wants different things in his life. Somewhat like suddenly discovering that the picture that you were making is actually just a small part of a larger picture. And then you move on and try to solve this larger jigsaw!

My question to you is: How much of your jigsaw do you think is complete?

Comments, please!

Random Musing #1

Why is it always that things that you want the most are the ones that you cannot have!

Is it because you cannot have them that you want them, or just that since you cannot have them, you feel that they are the ones you want the most ;)

Maybe, it is true that once you get something, the value of it in your eyes reduces!

On the same note: The fun is in the chase, not in the capture... Its the process which is fun, rather than the result.

Same reason why every job gets boring after a while. Initially you are learning new stuff, getting to do new things, however, as we spend more time on it, even the most interesting task becomes mundane, and we execute it like its a burden on us...

The Dream

The rain came down in thin streaks. The hooded figure continued to move forward through the darkness. At times, disappearing under the cover of darkness, at times illuminated by the yellow glow of the street light. Not once did it turn and offer me a look at the face inside the black cloak.

I continued following the figure - fascinated, transfixed - by the mystique, over the smooth pavement, across streets branching off to the left. The dark river gushed along the road to the right. Its gurgles strangely amplified by the silence of the dark night, sounding more eerie than ever.

The night was strangely windless, although the rain came down at an angle, its falling drops looking like tiny silver arrows in the halo around the street lamps.

The black figure continued silently through the night. Silent. Quiet. As fascinating as ever. Unquestioningly I followed. A strange warmth glowing inside my heart.

Then suddenly it disappeared. I searched the streets around. As I searched, I saw in the distance a figure, slumped across the steps to a dark green colored door, with a golden doorknob. I rushed there and turned the crumpled body. A scream of horror escaped my mouth as I saw the face behind the hood. It was a ghostly white, contorted into a smile, a mocking, cruel smile – not unlike the clown in a circus. No, this could not have been that.

Just as I gave up hope and turned back, I saw the swish of a black cloak vanishing behind the corner. I ran in that direction, leaving behind or caution, or premise of it, splashing through the muddy puddles created by the rain, running through the equally muddy rivulets of water – towards the street along the river. The rivulets were ominously flowing in the direction away from the river.

As I turned the corner, I caught sight of the figure again walking steadily ahead at a distance. It did not seem to notice the noises that I made, mindlessly walking its own way, pace steady. The urge to see the face behind the hood irresistible, I hastened even more, catching up with it at long last. Somehow, I did not have the mind to peer into the face although I was now walking along with it now. I was content, walking up the hill, not speaking a word, not caring where the hood was taking me.

At the top of the hill, I could see a house. It shone bright in the wild night. A lamp hung outside, steady and warm in the night air. I could feel its warmth despite the distance.

Then the hood suddenly crumpled to the ground. Then there appeared the full moon in a half clouded sky, and the hood rose and made its way towards the heavens. As rigid as if made from rock, as smoothly as a ghost ship sailing into the sky. And I was left in the middle of a small clearing in the woods, the house-light still shining in the distance.

And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul.
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold.
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last.
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll.

Europe!

The next posts are dedicated to my trip to Europe, made after a lot of contemplation as to whether the trip deserves the honor of a separate blog, but eventually deciding against it. I have tried to make the posts as descriptive as possible, trying consciously to diverge from my usually overly analytical and contemplative style, since I am talking of places, not ideas.

DISCLAIMER: At a couple of places however, I have not been able to refrain about putting up my thoughts on some of the things I saw. You may read them as my travel memoirs, although I must confess that I am new to the writing style for this descriptive format. Frankly, I have not found reading about people’s travel musings even mildly interesting… However, since I wrote these for myself to read later in life, I have written so as to evoke the imagery of the location in my mind. Writing seems to clearly be insufficient to describe all the places I see, and my laziness permitting, I hope to upload a few pictures as well.

NOTE: My trip started on the 8^th July dawn from Mumbai, and will culminate in my flying off to Pittsburgh on the 3^rd August. I have made the narrative conversational (to myself :P ), and in an effort to make it informal, have not mentioned a date at most places. Read on…

Select / Reject

While keying in a text msg, I realized that in the T9 dictionary, select and reject comprise the same keys.

Interesting, eh!

New questions!

Do humans always need to worry? Or is it just that I have an OCD which makes me worry..

Now that admits to colleges have started coming in, a new decision facing me is whether to stop at an MS, or continue working for a PhD. If only an MS, then take a job, rite? A job to recover the amount of money spent. Then after that? I want to be back to India again... When will that be? 2 years from now? 5 years from now? Or 10 years from now...

How long should one stay away from the ones he loves most in search of a more satisfying career? So eventually when I come back to India, how likely is getting a 'that' good a job in Pune? Or will it always be a compromise between a job you love, and the people you love??

As usual, for now, this decision should be pushed back till the last possible moment!

Back to Blogging!

I have not written here for a really really long time now. Primarily, the question being, is blogging a waste of time. I guess it is. More than a waste, it is a pastime (or timepass, as Indians say). And frankly, I have not had much of free time to while away as such. ;)

Anyway, lets hope this marks the beginning of a new year, full of blogs! Coz I know that my audience missed me. I have been inundated with questions as to why I have not posted for so long. ;D

Cheerio!

Hope for Atheism

Why is it that we are born as of some particular religion? I mean, does one come into existence knowing all about the Bible, or the Bhagwad Gita or the Guru Granth Sahib? Just because my parents are of one particular religion, makes me a member of it too. Isn't that ridiculous? Shouldn't I have the right to make an informed choice of what religion I do want to follow?
(Maybe religion and informed choice are paradoxical in the same sentence ;) )

Given this, we should all be born of no religion, and be allowed to make a decision later in life. That way atleast, we'll know how many members actually support Christianity, or Hinduism or blah... Lots of those people might want to make a choice of not choosing any one particular religion, or even becoming a practicing atheist. Is that even allowed? Can I be a registered atheist? Is that so illogical?

Apparently, even in the US of A, I cannot hold public office if I am a declared atheist. Is that fair? Shouldn't I be declared worthy or unworthy of any post based on my morals, my past behavior etc. rather than whether I believe in some doctrines first preached centuries ago?

Recently, there was a case where someone sued God. It was dismissed saying that he has no 'registered residence'. Although this lawsuit may sound frivolous, it is highly symbolic. All through our childhood, we are influenced by teachings in the name of 'God', our Nanny says, "He is watching everything from above", or "the final redemption is in His court". As a child, its not in my control to make people stop throwing random ideas at me in His name. Shouldn't someone be answerable?

The bottom-line, I feel is, if people are brought us as believers of reason, I doubt many of them would turn to organized religion in the hope of comfort or happiness. An idea is: we should all be atheists by default.

Till now, atheism has been under the wraps more or less. Never in history has the spread of information been so fast as now. Now, more and more people are being exposed to atheistic ideas through sitcoms (eg. House MD, Boston Legal), through the internet, through books etc. Atheists are portrayed as reasonable people, who bear no evil in heart and have an excellent set of morals, more so even when compared to religious folk.

This makes me think atheism has a lot of hope in the future. With more and more people 'thinking', religious fanaticism (or even subscription) should ebb. Maybe the world would end up being a safer, more peaceful place...

Melancholi(ty/ness)

Its been ages since I posted. Haven't found a topic interesting enough recently, I guess. It seems getting into a retrospective/self effacing mode is when I feel like posting the most!

I have had a vague sense of longing for the past 3-4 days. Finally, was able to pinpoint it to being homesick! Its just been 4 days since I got back to Goa, but I already miss Pune. It is the most awesome place to grow up, changing with the times, from the rustic pensioner's paradise, to the busting IT hub of today, a place which makes you think twice about going out at the peak traffic hours.

It has given me the most awesome friends that one could possibly asked for - never will I again find a set of people whose thoughts are so compatible with mine. With whom I have grown up with, shared teenage pangs ( and an infinite number of coffees!).

Last time I was home, I had a walk around my apartment building. It gave me an awesome high. Reminded me of the wonderful childhood that it provided me. The cricket, the hide-n-seek, the evening discussions with people who were so close to me then, but who just drifted away with time, to an extent that now we have nothing to talk when we meet. The well on the backside, through the railings of which I peered in as a kid, throwing stones into it, to see the fish swim up to them, the N number of cricket balls we rescued from it. The water tank, which acted as a makeshift pavillion. I haven't been there for the Ganesh festival for the past four years, and wont be for the next few too. I could go on!

It reminds me of the Jagjit Singh ghazal:

Ye Daulat bhi lelo
Ye Shaurat bhi lelo
Bhale chin lo Mujhse ye meri Jawani
Magar lauta do Mujkho Wjo Bachpan ka Sawn
Who Kagaz ki Khashti Who Baris Ka paani

Life will never again be so simple. So much fun! Now half the people have moved out of Pune, its all changed...

Still miss the place... :)

The zoo behind my room

Outside my window, there stands a great, big mango tree. It plays home to many birds and chipmunks. Ever since I was a kid I have been fascinated by the menagerie that sits on my window sill, fleeing as soon as I so as much look at them. Sometimes there is even a mongoose couple out there!

Mom puts out chapatis every morning since I remember, and I think the animals have got used to finding free food here. Bit like a tree which bears regular fruit! The chipmunks have grown quite plump I must say, and they must be feeling a bit disappointed if they do not find their breakfast out on the sill!

Today I did a bit of dilettante research. I managed to google the red-crested bulbul, the five-striped Indian squirrel, the bharadwaj (besides the house sparrow, and the common crow. :P)

This one is the red-crested bulbul. Very beautiful!

The five-striped Indian squirrel. Not very uncommon, but I just love the way he nibbles with his tiny hands! Cute, ain't it? Mind you, I consider it to be the most agressive of the animals that come to my sill. Very timid against humans, but makes the poor birds run away. Legend has it that this small creature help Lord Rama help build the Sagar Setu (sea bridge) to Sri Lanka in its own tiny way. It used to roll-over in the beach sand, and go shake all of it onto the bridge! Lord Rama stroked it on the back in appreciation and ever since then it has had the stripes!

The bharadwaj (crow pheasant). Biggest of all birds here. To spot this bird is considered to be good luck in India. Ahem! It stays right in front of my window. Imagine all the luck I must have had over the years! Why doesn't someone show this to Harry Potter instead of making him drink Felix Felicis!

"The bird is quite large around 48 cm. Its head and body are purple black, the wings are chestnut above and black below, and the long tail is dark green. The bird feeds on wide range of insects, caterpillars and small vertebrates. It occasionally eats other food items.

The call is that of most cuckoos is a simple repetition, in this case of a deep booming note."

The pictures here aren't mine. I will one day buy a very excellent camera. Till then, Google zindabad!

Disconnect & Darkness :-(

Last few days I feel a huge disconnect - between me and the world. I no longer relate to lots of things that I am supposed to- to things that would have hurt me, pained me, made me care about, made me think- even a year ago. I scoff at almost anything I see. TV shows, newspaper columns, advertisements... I can't relate to any of the stuff shown there. Agreed, most of it is junk, but still.
If that is not such a big deal then I can't relate to my friends either, it seems, they don't understand me either. Why blame them, things they discuss seem so trivial to me. Surely we shouldn't be wasting so much of our time on these topics. Discussions about relationships being an apt example.
In the past year, there have been only a handful of intellectually stimulating discussions with anyone at all. Although they have been fun, I seem to not want to argue with people most of the time. Everyone should form his or her opinions on their own. Arguing, discussing with others is a crutch that you need when you are unsure about yourself, when you need the approval of someone else to know that you are right.
As Ayn Rand put it, privacy and seclusion is a sign of human development. Since the world began, we have been moving from a herd mentality to living alone. So is this mental isolation yet another sign of progress?
I view most of the world in a disconnected way. Like I am removed from it, and that it cannot affect me. And even if it does, I don't care. I shall live through the pain.
Living up to my name I guess - 'Aniket' - it means unaffected, or one who is above worldly matters. :-)


Or maybe then again, I am just losing touch with reality. Going crazy...