Tuesday, January 29, 2008


Portraying disagreement in polite words is fine as long as it doesn't cross the line. But it often does. Political correctness is in. Its so in that the day is not far when we have to order for an African American coffee. Prison is "correctional facility" and torture is "physical persuasion". Grandpa isn't old. He's a "senior". We buy "pre-owned" cars. Cancer is "the big C". I wonder why? Whats wrong with poor old cancer?

Why is euphemism used everywhere? Who cares? I hate Euphemism.

On the other hand, maybe I don't. I could use it creatively. Should I fix the bugs in my code or perform some "reliability enhancement" procedures perhaps? Hmm..


Sunday, December 02, 2007


On this utterly insignificant little blue-green planet (as a certain Mr.Adams famously put it) where the sapient life forms have barely evolved, it is utterly predictable that their idea of God has barely evolved as well.

The so called ‘lively’ debates concerning the existence of God have given rise to many arguments. There are several arguments in support of the existence of God, like the anthropic argument, which is based on the anthropic principle involving "superlaws". The argument that there was a "first cause" that is identified as God is also known as the cosmological argument for the existence of God. The teleological argument argues that the universe's order and complexity are best explained by reference to a creator God. All of these and many more such arguments have been and will continue to be rubbished by science and reason.

Let us try and discuss some of the more basic ones.

Probably the most basic problem is that there is no universally accepted definition of God. Theologians gleefully claim that people with faith constitute the majority in this world. But when you pick out randomly a hundred such people and ask them what the definition of God is and why they actually believe in God, the answers differ staggeringly. In contrast, when you ask them the shape of the earth or whether the moon is made of rock or cheese, the answers are uncannily similar.

These varying opinions can actually be used to explain the basis for the existence of a plethora of religions. Most religions are social institutions that take it upon themselves to ‘rid the earth of all sin’ but in the process, cause bloodshed and wars, and result, most undesirably, in causing wide-spread cultural and behavioural polarization. Modern religion conveniently denies the demonstrability of the existence of God on the basis that proof denies faith. How absurd. How very annoyingly absurd. And there is of course the popular argument that religious teachings form the basis for the moral behavioural code of man. Where do you get your morals from Mr.Atheist? The most popular answer to this popular argument can be better explained by quoting Mr.Richard Dawkins, if I may. He once made a remark that contained the words “vindictive, blood-thirsty, misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully” to describe the God of the Old Testament, and if you are getting ready to check your dictionary for revisions made to the meanings of these words, or for looking up some very polite names to call Mr.Dawkins, you would be surprised to know that the holy scriptures do contain references to activities of this sort. So, given that, you would expect an extraordinarily large number of believers in monotheistic or polytheistic dogma to be amoral and resort to racist and genocidal activities, wouldn't you? I mean, we do have sufficient examples of holy wars and oppression of women, don’t we? But in all fairness to people with faith, most of whom are respectable and responsible citizens, they are able to filter out "the bad" from the Holy Scriptures for themselves, without instructions from anyone else. Need I say anymore about where morals actually come from?

I do not wish to elaborate any further on the misuse of religion and its negative influence on free society.

This, in a way, leads us to the God-is-a-personal-experience argument for God’s existence, conveniently eliminating the possibility of a counter argument based on the lack of a common universal definition of God. There is this claim made by some of the so called ‘great thinkers’ of this planet that there are God-related experiences that are either a means to realise the ‘self’ and subsequently realise God, or a means to attain salvation or liberation, and these experiences are apparently quite personal. A state of concentrated attention of the mind, involving the empirical phenomena of moment-to-moment conscious experience in order to make our sense of ‘the self’ vanish and thereby uncover a new state of personal well-being, does exist. Scientific experiments have proved beyond doubt that this is actually a state of bliss which the human mind is quite capable of sustaining and is achievable by stopping the continuous chain of thought through meditation, thus putting an end to this absurd argument to prove God’s existence.

We could go on like this but clearly the point is that there is no verifiable evidence for the existence of God. I would also like to add here that, contrary to popular sentiment, belief in the creator God actually removes the zeal and the passion from life itself, in that it attributes thoughts, actions, art, nature and in general, the beauty life, to some sort of imaginary creative intelligence or super power which is apparently unfathomable to our petty little minds, thereby making man seem quite impotent and a lot less powerful than he actually is. Imagining that God created man for a definite purpose, removes from life, the joy that man can derive by shaping into existence a purpose for himself and working towards its fulfilment.

There is a long way to go before a majority of the barely evolved sapient life forms on planet earth are convinced about the power of reason. But gradually, in the minds of many earthlings, a hope is building up – a hope of strengthening and arming the resistance against faith.


Monday, October 22, 2007


Today I was confronted with a tricky situation at work. It had something to do with a peculiar kind of data that was causing a lot of trouble when you tried sending it back and forth between two computers. Honestly I did not have a clue about what I was dealing with, but I had to find a solution. It made as little sense to me as those analytical type questions we used to have back in college days, that went something like this.

1. There are 4 houses in a row.
2. One of the them is not occupied by a cobbler.
3. The plumber, who prefers to live in some other street, likes to drink orange juice.
4. The second house is kind of purplish.
5. I’m not very sure about the salesman, I think he’s probably dead.
6. I’m not all that keen on giving you any more information.
Now who owns the Armadillo?

I used to read the question for comic relief and then choose option C.

Coming back to the data that was raising a ruckus, well, I decided to do nothing about it and went back to finding out who attacked Harry Potter this time. Thirty seconds later I was told that everything was fine and the data that was causing trouble was not doing so anymore. I think somebody even patted my back.

I’m fairly certain that luck is the biggest component of success.



Saturday, September 22, 2007

Croc breaks up with bird

After two rainy seasons together, a large male Nile crocodile and an Egyptian Plover bird, decided to put an end to their symbiotic relationship. The crocodile had begun to suspect that the strong emotional connection between the two had all but disappeared. "It was getting so predictable that I started to wonder, 'is this all there is'?" the crocodile said.

It all started in 2001 when the two met at the local watering hole. Both creatures immediately saw themselves as natural for one another and felt something strangely new, immensely gratifying and mutually beneficial. Within a week the bird had moved in with the croc and started feeding on decaying meat lodged between the crocodiles teeth. "She helped me clean up my act", the croc used to say. Love came quickly, sharply, like a shaft of sunlight through the clouds.

But as time passed, it slowly dawned on the couple that their partnership was perhaps merely one of convenience. "I know exactly what she's going to do next" grunted the croc. The Plover bird too seemed to agree that there was little fire left in their symbiotic relationship. "He hardly communicates. Just lies there with his mouth open. Doesn't speak a word" said the annoyed bird.
Frustration caused the pair to act out. The croc opted for passive aggressive ways. He stayed in water until very late in the night. The bird chose to be loquacious about the matter. She chattered incessantly about how zebras and rhino's appreciated having their tics removed and began to threaten that she might one day run away with a cape buffalo.

(to be continued)


Tuesday, January 02, 2007

All for a Mac

One evening, I decided to drive to McDonald's, the largest food chain restaurant on planet earth. A good idea, I thought. Ruminations loomed, about how the Big Mac, in its own way, symbolizes globalization on planet earth. How utterly bizarre, I thought! The chain of thought was broken when my ever-escalating waistline promptly tried to outscream the cacophonic dissonance caused by the rush-hour traffic and familiarize me with the calories and cholesterol content of the snack I was about to ingest. I did not take the hint. I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol anyway. All the others in this godforsaken town do too. And on this particular day, there were apparently a hell of a lot of them driving around aimlessly. This made me feel like a gladiator wrestling his way out of a maniacal onslaught by beasts.

After driving for nearly 90 minutes, I concluded that it was a torture that I could easily have done without. The whole thing was just a bad idea, I thought. My ever-escalating waistline promptly agreed.

Talking of tortures, the Total Perspective Vortex is the most horrible torture device to which a sentient being can be subjected. Located on Frogstar World B, it shows its victim the entire unimaginable infinity of the universe with a very tiny marker that says "You Are Here" which points to a microscopic dot on a microscopic dot. The shock of being placed in the Vortex could easily destroy your brain. I sometimes wonder what the inhabitants of Frogstar World B would say after a leisurely drive to a McDonald's restaurant on planet earth.


Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Enter the Acturan Micro Dodo!

This is a testimonial that my dearest, greatest, smartest, coolest earthling friend Murgi, wrote for me... (Aaaaah! Murgi, now pls let go of my neck!!)

Anyway, read on...

Enter the Acturan Micro Dodo

It seems like a dream, a distant mirage, a figment of my imagination … but those days really did happen. College life is something we all cherish to our graves and so too will I always cherish those days and remember every glorious moment each and every day for the rest of my life. For I fear that if I didn’t, they would escape from within the confines of my memory and be lost in limbo forever. I once knew a guy named Harsha …

The first day of college is always special because it’s the first time you see the nutcases that you’re destined (doomed) to spend the rest of the next few years with. That was when we first saw ‘it’. A silent reclusive large creature who preferred to sit aloof from the rest of us noisy ‘chatter boxes’ with only his over sized moustache for company, Harsha is the reason I no longer subscribe to clichés regarding ‘first impressions’ ‘cause boy were we wrong about the dude! The next few months would see this guy unleash his wizardry turning everything he touched into pure gold and of course he’s not a recluse but just a tad shy ;)

‘tis not just once that one would see Harsha sitting in class with a bemused expression on his face while the professor filled the board with calculations, apparently going nowhere and everywhere all at once. The thing is that he’d always manage to finish the problem in less than two steps in a shade under 45 and 3/7ths seconds while the rest of us mere mortals wondered what the point of existence was that the ‘powers that be’ had to subject us to such excruciating torment. Academics aside, Harsha is the most extraordinary musician I have ever jammed with (and I have jammed with some of the best). The guy can play a dozen instruments (I kid you not) and heed my words – he doesn’t just ‘play’ these instruments but knows how to caress magical tunes out of each and every one of them confounded musical doohickeys!

How could I forget our Engineering project? This testimonial would be so incomplete without an honourable (dishonourable) mention of our ‘endeavours’ in this regard. Guess, we spent more time at random fast food joints in that span of six months in and around NAL than at NAL itself. Those were some of the best days of engineering and I still can’t figure out how we finally managed to get the ‘bloody’ project (hope you remember that goof up on my part) done on time. Buddy, I’m sure we could all vouch for the fact that those days would have been sad … nay, miserable without you dude although we probably might have eaten a tad less than we did (but who’s complaining?)

“Brain the size of a planet…”, but lazy to the hilt, the dude who we all thought would get placed first took his own sweet time to decide when the muhurtam was right to open his mouth in an HR interview while all the top companies went whooshing past. Harsha has often demonstrated levels of laziness which rivalled a cross between a dead sloth bear and a pebble lying on a nude beach (don’t ask me ‘why a nude beach’) owing to which he’d sometimes offer to shake your hand without removing his own from his pockets. It goes without saying that this has shocked quite a few women (and impressed some others, a fact which we shall leave out for now).

The word ‘genius’ would be an understatement for a guy like Harsha, a complete under-representation of the bloke’s true potential. A large person with an even larger heart (did I mention that I wasn’t going to use clichés ?), Harsha’s never been the dude to back off from lending a helping hand to people who weren’t as well endowed (well, you can wipe that silly smirk of your face) as him when it came to exhibiting a grasp of certain concepts and subjects that even Einstein would have been proud of. When the dude finally got placed and had to leave the city, the entire class showed up to bid him adieu! If that doesn’t say a thing or two about the dude, I don’t know what else possibly could!

Thank you for the memories dude! Memories are what keep me going today … Sometimes we spend a lifetime trying to amass useless worldly sh*t when all we had to do is pause and reflect on the days that were and will always be in our heart to realize how rich we’ve always been. Those glorious days really did happen and they were the best days of my life. I once knew a guy named Harsha …

Love you always bro …

murgi …


Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Ordeals Italiano

On planet Earth, the word ‘Travel’ invariably means the transport of people or objects from one location in space to another, because an earthling’s perception of time travel is remarkably lousy. The primitive means of air travel on this tiny unregarded blue-green planet are remarkably lousy too. As a result, during my recent explorations of the western hemisphere of this planet, I have had to contend with intense physical and mental distress.

For instance, during my recent trip to Italy, the waiting times in all airports were illogically high and the queues for the security checks extended infinitely, into unexplored hyper-space. Finally, when the elaborate procedures drew to a close, most passengers were radiant with exaltation. But I was not, owing to the fact that I hailed from a country which entitled me to an EBSC - Extra Bonus Security Check! And to top it all I was on a two pit-stop strategy.

Well, I landed in Italy.

Here’s what the Encyclopaedia Galactica has to say about Italy. "Italy, officially the Italian Republic or Repubblica Italiana, is a rather obscure and unsung southern European country, hated by French football fans". The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy also mentions Italy. It says "Who hates Italy? Everyone likes pizza". In Italy, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy sells rather better than the Encyclopaedia Galactica.

Tourists seem to adore the sites, the quaint shops, the tasty pastas and the amicable Italian locals. But they are completely ignorant of the amount of bureaucratic paper shuffling the Italians and those who chose to live in Italy have to endure.

I chose to live here for two months and began the treacherous process of getting a Permesso di Soggiorno (permission to stay), made even more treacherous by the sheer obtuseness of the company that I work for. I finally got one, but only after multiple trips to the local immigration office, long queues and unintelligible abuses from half-witted immigration officials.

So, if you are ever destined, compelled or obliged to live in Italy for more than eight days, and you work for some sleaze-ball software company, and you do not possess the ability to endure delay or provocation without becoming antagonized, I suggest you carry with you an object that can be used to deliver heavy blows, preferably a hammer. A babel fish would come in very handy too, because Italiano is the only language spoken in this part of the world. Two months, and I am yet to encounter an Italian who can pronounce a single word right in English.

But all said and done, one cannot help but be impressed by the Italian cuisine, fashion, luxury sports cars and motorcycles, as well as the beautiful monuments, lakes and mountains, not to mention, the warmth and passion of the Italian people. It is almost time for me to return home, and I have to admit that despite frequent misadventures and a few near-calamities I am certainly going to have fond memories of the place.


Saturday, May 13, 2006

Chicken from Hell

A few words about a Hen-man that I know from college (not the worthless British tennis player). I'm talking about The Gallus gallus domesticus. El pollo del infierno. What can I say about The chichen from hell? Having listened to his gutar 'not so gently' weep, through 4 years of college, I have to say that he was getting really good at it. He could learn a Kirk Hammet lead in 10 seconds, which meant that he always had the potential to be a popular dude among the girls. But he could also eat a whole Shanti Sagar Masale dosa in 10 seconds, which meant that the radius of curvature of some of his body parts could only be measured with the help of the latest wave in mathematics, called Murgomathics. He has always been a best buddy, although he sometimes lends a deaf ear when you want him to listen, but thats only because his ear is partially deaf with all the loud and harsh music blasting his ear drums.

He is very much a mama's boy. His mom used to keep him in control all the time. All she had to say was "Bad Tinku, no donut for you!".


Wednesday, January 18, 2006


This post has something to do with the most powerful man on planet Earth. George W. Bush is the 43rd chief executive of the United States. He is a hero to a few, a villain to some and a piteous creature to most, including me. I mean, I can't even imagine why anyone would get mad at Bush for administration policies - he's had practically nothing to do with them!

Anyway, I think he would do better as a professional comedian. When the dude says 'Nucular' he actually means 'Nuclear'. His malaprops make him sound like someone who learned the language over a bad cell phone connection. Some of the things he has to say provoke laughter like nothing else.

A couple of my favorites:

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we".

"This notion that the United States is getting ready to attack Iran is simply ridiculous. And having said that, all options are on the table".

Applause! That was the most important dude on the planet, folks. Looks like God has not paid much attention to this part of the Milky Way galaxy.

Need I say any more? I don't know, but I don't feel like anyway.


Monday, January 16, 2006

Occupational Hazards

Job, the principal activity in our lives that we do to acquire or deserve a certain paper or metallic medium of exchange called money.

On planet Earth, like most other planets, if you possess a certain pre-determined quantity of money, you are said to be above the poverty line! India, being the second most populous country on planet Earth, and a quarter of all Indians still living below the poverty line, is currently witnessing an economic phenomenon of job creation, which I happen to be part of.

Being a software programmer in addition to being an Indian, it is quite natural for me to be very familiar with the word "Outsourcing". Outsourcing is defined by most earthlings as the day-to-day execution of an entire business function of an organization, by a third party service provider. A consummate definition, one would imagine.

Some facts about outsourcing:
  • Outsourcing makes a lot of Indians very happy. It gives them jobs. It gave me my job.
  • Outsourcing makes a lot of American techies very unhappy. They have lost thier jobs. Levelheaded Americans are taking strong, but desperate measures [like this website http://www.yourjobisgoingtoindia.com/].
  • Outsourcing is known to have flummoxed many observers, even groups of pandimensional hyper-intelligent scientists armed with Arcturan Megacomputers. These pandimensional hyper-intelligent scientists call it the phenomenon of homosapio-lavoro transmigration. What is perplexing about it is the migration of jobs from America to India, and the migration of intelligent lifeforms from India to America, seeking jobs!
  • Outsourcing is increasingly being replaced by another term - "Bangalored", derived from the name of a large south Indian city, Bangalore.

Some facts about Bangalore:

  • Bangalore is a city of roughly 6.5 million earthlings.
  • Bangalore is cited in particular because of its ill-famed reputation in America as a high-tech city, gobbling up jobs of all the people who have been laid off from American corporations.
  • Bangalore is going to be renamed Bengaluru. This presents the pandimensional hyper-intelligent scientists with a tricky question. Do we now replace Bangalored by Bengalured?

As for the American techies, whether they are Bangalored or Bengalured, it will hurt just as much, although Benga-lured may sound more appropriate for jobs that are being coaxed out of America.