A Toy Story: It Happened one day to me...

It was a fine morning (or was it afternoon, I doubt). A very dear uncle of mine called on me (Yes, he called on me, after long, but for real) to inform me that he was coming... and with him I would get to meet a few friends he was getting for me to play with– plastic ones. It got me so worked up for the day. God, I so loved my uncle... who doesn’t love the uncle who gets toys!!! I dint tell anyone about uncle coming, lest he be seen as partial... someone who could come if it was for me and my toys but not otherwise.

The whole day I just thought about the toys that I’d be getting on the morrow. The whole day I felt so lucky to have got an uncle who loved me so much as to get me those wonderful toys that he was gonna get for me. My friends called me for a game in the evening but I couldn’t go – what if I got tired of the game and din’t have enough reserves left to play with my uncle when he came – oh sorry - “If” and when he came. They played my favourite game – the game I loved – the game I fought to play – the game I was never allowed to play but recently– but to hell with them – my uncle was far more important than any of their (or for that matter, my) games. I told them my friends I was tired – they understand.

The night approached. The anticipation grew. I checked up on my uncle to find if our plans were on – they were. The morning approached. The anticipation grew. I checked up on my uncle to see if our plans were on – they were – with a slight delay though. The noon approached. The anticipation was subdued. As the evening approached, I gave away all expectations. I don’t want any toys. I never wanted any toy. I never wanted any plastic friends to play with. What I surely didn’t want were the wax promises of those plastic friends.

I know uncle will come... My dear uncle... My favourite uncle... My only uncle... Sometime...

Sometime I'll play... With the plastic toys... With the wax promises... Sometime...

Its time now. Its time I stopped playing. Its time I stopped wishing I could play. Its time I stopped wishing.

PP

Mathematical Model of a B-Schooler

It was another boring and hectic night and the day. As I was getting bored to the point I was looking to the ceiling and making patterns of the blotches in white-wash, a slightly more interesting idea came to me. My next weird project, developing a "Mathematical model of participation and interest of a B-School class (Good idea to pass a term spl after learning to use SPSS) in the subjects over the term in particular and the program as a whole."

I hypothesize that it is a positively shifted exponentially decreasing absolute function with pulses of a decreasing amplitude and a linearly increasing time period, starting around a week and going onto a longer period of around a term.

Explanation: The shift is given to ensure that it always remains on the positive and appears lucrative to a non-B-Schooler. When the student enters the B-School, (s)he is full of enthusiasm and more so expectation. The initial momentum is squashed in the first few days when (s)he discovers that a B-School is not much different from the bachelors or the job he was doing - the same mundane task of searching for data and placing it into contexts which suit the preferences of the evaluator continues. The interest continues to decline rapidly at first. There are a few short bursts of interest whenever he sees some interesting assignments or projects. Then, as the deadlines close and he doesn’t find time to even think about the project until the morning (or at best, the night) of the submission, the decline continues. Thus, on a declining trend, ends the first term. The second term brings in new hope, though the magnitude is greatly diminished. Goes without saying, not much changes from the first term. The interest decreases and alarmingly, what decreases is the effort put in. The third term is where the realisation dawns that the whole exercise is futile. The peak of interest is also reduced. Well, this is the point where I lie currently. Low on interest and loyyer on effort. Lets see if the curve follows the hypothesised curve right upto the end of course or shows a deviation from the hypothesis.

PP

The other side

The grass is greener on the other side of the fence... Is it?

To make a short story long...

Dear Blog,

It’s strange how the human mind works... It looks for meanings in nonsensical things and ignores the facts when they are glaring... It makes a mountain out of the mole-hill and ignores the oncoming deluge... It relinquishes the future to history and construes sagas out of simple statements...

One small line on Gtalk... One long story in the mind... A story conceptualised over time... A story scripted by fate... A story directed by the forces... A story depicted through hidden emotions... A story enacted through unsaid words... A story played by unnamed characters...

A story of grit... A story of sensitivity... A story of trust... A story of betrayal... A story of sacrifice... A story of selfish desires... A story of fake smiles... A story of tearful outbursts... A story of wax emotions... A story of stone-heartedness... A story of relentless effort to appease... A story of effortless denial... But above all that it seemed... A story of friendship...

Was it just another story??? No... It was more... A legend that went beyond the realm of a story... Into the realm of life...

PP

TOW "I'm the unConvocated" ©...

Dear Blog,

It’s been a loong week since I posted anythhing... Not that the earth and along with it, my life, stopped moving. Not that nothing noteworthy happened. Not that there was nothing I didn’t have an opiinion about. Just that in some cases, I didn’t find the time to do it and otherrs, I didn’t find the inspiraation to do it.

Well the usual stuff, new episodes of Lost, House MD, HIMYM, Heroes, TBBT, 2.5 Men, Chuck, Roadies 6.0 etc. got downloaded and watched, enlargement of the nominees' liist for the DCP awards continued, I bunked yet another classs, yet another week without mess dinner... Well they don't quite need mention... There were also a few things that neeed mention...

For starters, I missed the 6th annual convocation @ NITK. That means I’m still not an Engineer. Why did I not go? Multitude of reasons... First of which was the legendary historical 30th annual XL-IIMC sports meet. Secondly, when you are a SPOC of a placement support committee, hardly can u afford to not be in campus for a day, and when the process is preponed at short notice, more so. In short, according to Pauli Exclusion Principle, “I’m the unConvocated”. ^{© Secy, ER, Joka}

And then the sports meet got postponed to a later date!!! All the bbuild-up surrounding it, the war hysteria built over three terms melted away in a matter of two eventful days.

Would that mean, the weekend was a forced holiday, a time I could gather myself up for the coming week, a time I could muster up few hours of peaceful sleep, a time I could not work??? Well, the admission letter of a B-School does come with an unwritten clause in the “Terms of Agreement” and the “Voluntary Disclosure”, “I hereby declare to not keep myself free from work for the time I’m on campus. Any infaarction on this stated rule can invite serious non-disciplinary, nevertheless, socially-impeaching and far reaching action. Leaving the campus without the explicit long-term term-brreak will constitute gross neglect of the workaholic clause.”

And thus, I spent the weekend, a weekend many students afforded to trespass the Workaholic Clause, planning and pondering over the coming week, a week that will surely leave me tattered and battered i.e. if at all I manage to not have my name in the Obituary section of the local Telegraph. Till then, serving aces, getting to score: Advantage XLRI...

PP

P.S. Double Role Required...