A few months ago, Prof. Dr. N. Vedachalam visited COEP for a series of interactive talks with the students regarding India's progress in space research as well as the future for academic enrichment within the country with colleges like ours being the nucleus. Through the efforts of the administration, we have been fortunate enough to hear many great speakers such as Dr. Raghunath Mashelkar over the last couple of years who come for some kind of review visit. But there was a weekend of talks among these that will remain impregnated in the minds of many students for a very long time.
Prof. Vedachalam is the former head of ISRO's Liquid Propulsion Systems Centre (LPSC) and has been part of the elite team of scientists who have driven India's development in indigenous space technology over the last 40 years or so. He was in college to deliver a series of three lectures, each of around 4 hours to the students. The ever-so-enthusiastic (not.) crowd started to filter in late as usual for the morning session. But within a matter of twenty minutes, it seemed certain that none of the 600 odd students would be leaving their seats. When Prof. V asked whether they would like to break for lunch, a unanimous 'no' echoed through the Auditorium and he went on with his inimitable style of technical story-telling. These weren't fairytales of course, but a comprehensive look at India's struggle to develop and implement its own space technology post independence. Prof. V's was typical of a senior faculty playing around with his young students, stopping in between to pose a question or too and then laugh off the ensuing silence by saying, "Don't worry, even after you have completed your PhD, you will not be able to answer that question because you simply didn't read the textbooks well enough in the Second Year".
As a part of the afternoon session, he spoke at length about ISRO's newest baby (Chandrayaan-I by then was done) - the second stage Cryogenic Rocket engine that had taken nearly two decades to develop. I remember some parts of what he spoke- shall make an effort to reproduce them.
(If you're interested, there's a copy of this entire lecture series at the Data Center : i. e. if you were foolish enough to sleep off at the hostel after an intense night of CS or were simply too bored to leave the confines of your home and the comforts of the TV )
Dr. Vedachalam. India's Cryogenic Rocket Technology.
" In the 70s, Dr. Kalam was a senior scientist at ISRO. We used to look up to him and Prof. Satish Dhawan a lot in those days. Prof. Dhawan would pose these problems to his students and the solution would come after a long brainstorming session but from the most miraculously simple sources. The first idea for the Payload housing came from large garbage bins on the streets.
When we were still struggling as a nation to establish ourself on the global map, Dr. Kalam had told us- put a block of concrete in space if you want! But put something there with an Indian flag. That was the kind of desperation in those days. By the late 80s, vokay, we had put a man in space. But none of the technology was India's. We were buying our rockets from the Russians who sold them to us at ridiculous prices. Americans were refusing us technology. We had no choice. One day, Prof. Dhawan addressed many of the scientists and researchers and declared- 'If they do not give it to us, we will develop it ourselves'. And after almost 15 years of continued efforts, we are scheduled to launch our own Cryo Rocket. This is how technology develops. When somebody refuses to share it with you- you must do it yourself.
And in our proposals to the Government, we always asked for around 2 times the project cost. Waii? (why) you will ask. We always planned for contingencies. If the first one failed, we could rectify some of the mistakes and develop a second one. After 700 seconds, massive software failure caused the first rocket (PSVL, 1993) to tumble in the Bay of Bengal. See, the first one- we give to Gaad (laughter in the crowd). We then tell ourselves- next one we must not fail (since we have already given to Gaad). And so the second launch was a success."
It was indeed very sad to see the GSLV D3 to plummet into the sea. Prof. Vedachalam had mentioned that the PSVL was well tested and very trustworthy- that's why we sent up Chandrayaan on it. Let us hope that the Cryo powered GSLV too overcomes the hurdles that has caused "partial failure" of this mission- there are reports that the Cryo did fire, but two of the auxiliary engines did not. And we can rest assured that "having given the first one to Gaad Almighty, we may succeed in our next endeavour".
Jai Hind
Showing posts with label The Universe and Everything. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Universe and Everything. Show all posts
Escapades and Event Management
Swine Flu.
Recession.
MindSpark 2009 (now one of India's largest Technical Festivals by participation)
Tags: (Unjustified) Arrogance, (Over) Enthusiasm, (Manic) Energy, (The Lack of) Open Book Exams.
It was fun setting up the show, swearing at people, sleeping very little and swearing at people again. Life has now become an effort to sleep, catch up with Acads and resurrect my failing personal life.
Notes to self during the 3 month journey:
Passing the baton (hurling away responsibility) to more enterprising and dynamic individuals is the only way to ensure sustainable development.
MindSpark 2009- Ignite your world.
College of Engineering, Pune
Recession.
MindSpark 2009 (now one of India's largest Technical Festivals by participation)
Tags: (Unjustified) Arrogance, (Over) Enthusiasm, (Manic) Energy, (The Lack of) Open Book Exams.
It was fun setting up the show, swearing at people, sleeping very little and swearing at people again. Life has now become an effort to sleep, catch up with Acads and resurrect my failing personal life.
Notes to self during the 3 month journey:
- Delegate, only if you must- DIY!
- The civilized world DOES NOT KNOW the features of Word Processors
- MS Works does not work. .odt sucks. Stick with pirated versions of MS Office
- Shaking the Printer Cartridge will produce an additional output of 20 pages
- Spoon feeding is bad. It bites you back in the butt
- When driving back home after 2 a.m., not everyone can be trusted to follow lane discipline
- Lunch time is generally associated with sunset
- First identify a Mobile operator who can provide range through stone walled corridors AND THEN put your phone number on the website
- If you have scored in double digits in the midsem, there is no real need to walk across the subway to the MDH to check your marks. You already have more than what you deserve.
- Carry an extra set of clothes. You never know when its already tomorrow
- Never tell Bhat that you are going to set questions for Chakravyuh
- Smile at the professors, in a sad way- it helps grades and Sponsorship opportunities
- Buy a writing pad and write down a to-do list. It slips from your mind otherwise
- Do not lose the writing pad as mentioned in Note 13- it hurts
- Carry at least Rs. 10/- in your wallet. Even the bloody chai costs 5 bucks
Passing the baton (hurling away responsibility) to more enterprising and dynamic individuals is the only way to ensure sustainable development.
MindSpark 2009- Ignite your world.
College of Engineering, Pune
The Bridge That Sometimes Isn't
Finally, there is enough pent up frustration to diffuse the inertia of posting here- grades for the semester! While I have been away, there have been innumerable instances, tailor-made for mention on this blog, but have simply been suppressed by sheer laziness and the warmth of covers and great books and superlative movies. Recently, I've had Introduction to Psychology for a mandatory subject as a part of the degree course. And we've labeled a portion of the human brain as "dark" or "black" simply because an individual himself cannot tap its deepest secrets. Wisps of emotions are often delivered to the conscious being when confronted with similar dark and confusing circumstances. Here is where we come to the bridge.
Me and a friend were in charge of surveying a potentially good site for making astronomical observations- nestled within the typical central Maharashtra terrain and far enough from the lights and maddening haze of the city pollution. Around 50 kms from Pune, just off NH4, there is a road that leads off towards the foothills of the forts Rajgad and Torana. After being annoyed by the familiar, jarring noises so characteristic of this city and its people (and lets not forget their driving habits), it was a relief to get on to open expanses of the Highway. We were buoyed by the adrenaline of speed and kept alert by the embrace of the cold January night. We hit the detour to leave the highway towards our destination with vague directions and a hope that cell phones stowed in our pockets would rise to the challenge if we lost our way.
The lights deserted us almost as soon as we hit the interior road; the sharp outlines of the head lamp led us along. We concurred that we must make subtle but sure landmarks along our route so that they would prove useful while retracing our steps the same night and many similar ones to follow. This exercise after all, was nothing more than a reccee. Shadows of trees moved in pivoted arcs as the head lamp swept over them. Quickly, we realised that landmarking was useless unless we were to memorize technical bends on the road or cold rocks that adorned the road edges. The only other sharp pricks of white light ensued from the displays of both our cell phones (I'd volunteered to hang on to them for quick calls if needed- I was riding pillion). They read an identical, disdainful "No Coverage".
Fear(n): a feeling of dread, a sense of ominous foreboding. eg: Fear filled the boy's heart as the dog pounded on towards him.
My job was navigation. It would hardly have been a solace if I were to vocalise my discomfort, given the circumstances. So I did the only thing I could- psychologists call it the "fight or flight" mode- I made small talk. Duniya ki baatein. Random shit. We spoke of how tyre temperature affects the compund setting on F1 cars, of why the ecliptic seems to have shifted due to the gyroscopic wobble of the earth, of when the dude who taught us a common subject would wake up to the reality of mis-pronouncing the word "disc", of where the street food rates were having a downward trend. Hidden below the garb of the carefree navigator was a mind crouching in the corner of a darkened room. The road slipped cautiously beneath us as we were greeted (I'm not sure how much time later) by the fervish bobbing of torch-light. We'd made contact.
The night sky at the farm of the dude was beautiful. We were delighted to be greeted by such a quantum of intergalactic trash, usually lost in the smog overhead back home. Easily recognisable stars and constellations were now accompanied by their more shy cousins- the site and the sight seemed to be perfect. A hot chai later we were back on the road home. The apprehension that accompanied the ride to the farm had ebbed away a bit; I found myself a lot more relaxed and making conversation easily. We came around a bend and the bike skidded to a voilent halt. Rubber on the road, et al. The Grey Sith flicked the lights to high beam and back to low. He did it again. His hands left the handle and eased open the visor of the helmet. There was an intense unease in his stare. He shook his head.
The single beam of light in the night had illuminated a narrow bridge. It was sufficiently wide and seemed very much part of the road forward. "Dude, I could've sworn there wasn't a bridge on our way here". My mind had been temporarily numbed by the revelation. I hadn't seen it either. An intense battle raged between ego and logic, eventually won by the former. "Nahi yaar, tha naa, I think...". He responded with an expression of sombre superiority and deeper understanding of the mysterious world we live in. He shook his head again and stressed, "It wasn't here before- we've taken a wrong turn". That accusation was enough to trigger a "No way, this is the only road back". Dark looks were exchanged. I hadn't seen the bridge- it would have made the perfect landmark. He obviously hadn't seen it (or he shall laugh at me for the rest of time of having conned me into thinking that way and being prabhaavit and writing this post). We rode over its span, confused in unison and unsure of what to expect. Swarms of anxiety flitted across any empty pockets of the mind still uncluttered by dread.
We hit the highway soon enough and flew back in the cold winter air. I have visited the site around 5 times after our initial visit- there is of course only one road that can take me there. I have seen the bridge there evertime, eyeing me with an air of deep amusement. Many days later the Grey Sith confessed of being gripped by a similar sense of fear of the unknown that fateful evening. An emotion strong enough from preventing both of us registering the presence of the bridge that sometimes isn't there.
Read a more sensationalized account (a far more colourful account from The Sith himself ) here.
Me and a friend were in charge of surveying a potentially good site for making astronomical observations- nestled within the typical central Maharashtra terrain and far enough from the lights and maddening haze of the city pollution. Around 50 kms from Pune, just off NH4, there is a road that leads off towards the foothills of the forts Rajgad and Torana. After being annoyed by the familiar, jarring noises so characteristic of this city and its people (and lets not forget their driving habits), it was a relief to get on to open expanses of the Highway. We were buoyed by the adrenaline of speed and kept alert by the embrace of the cold January night. We hit the detour to leave the highway towards our destination with vague directions and a hope that cell phones stowed in our pockets would rise to the challenge if we lost our way.
The lights deserted us almost as soon as we hit the interior road; the sharp outlines of the head lamp led us along. We concurred that we must make subtle but sure landmarks along our route so that they would prove useful while retracing our steps the same night and many similar ones to follow. This exercise after all, was nothing more than a reccee. Shadows of trees moved in pivoted arcs as the head lamp swept over them. Quickly, we realised that landmarking was useless unless we were to memorize technical bends on the road or cold rocks that adorned the road edges. The only other sharp pricks of white light ensued from the displays of both our cell phones (I'd volunteered to hang on to them for quick calls if needed- I was riding pillion). They read an identical, disdainful "No Coverage".
Fear(n): a feeling of dread, a sense of ominous foreboding. eg: Fear filled the boy's heart as the dog pounded on towards him.
My job was navigation. It would hardly have been a solace if I were to vocalise my discomfort, given the circumstances. So I did the only thing I could- psychologists call it the "fight or flight" mode- I made small talk. Duniya ki baatein. Random shit. We spoke of how tyre temperature affects the compund setting on F1 cars, of why the ecliptic seems to have shifted due to the gyroscopic wobble of the earth, of when the dude who taught us a common subject would wake up to the reality of mis-pronouncing the word "disc", of where the street food rates were having a downward trend. Hidden below the garb of the carefree navigator was a mind crouching in the corner of a darkened room. The road slipped cautiously beneath us as we were greeted (I'm not sure how much time later) by the fervish bobbing of torch-light. We'd made contact.
The night sky at the farm of the dude was beautiful. We were delighted to be greeted by such a quantum of intergalactic trash, usually lost in the smog overhead back home. Easily recognisable stars and constellations were now accompanied by their more shy cousins- the site and the sight seemed to be perfect. A hot chai later we were back on the road home. The apprehension that accompanied the ride to the farm had ebbed away a bit; I found myself a lot more relaxed and making conversation easily. We came around a bend and the bike skidded to a voilent halt. Rubber on the road, et al. The Grey Sith flicked the lights to high beam and back to low. He did it again. His hands left the handle and eased open the visor of the helmet. There was an intense unease in his stare. He shook his head.
The single beam of light in the night had illuminated a narrow bridge. It was sufficiently wide and seemed very much part of the road forward. "Dude, I could've sworn there wasn't a bridge on our way here". My mind had been temporarily numbed by the revelation. I hadn't seen it either. An intense battle raged between ego and logic, eventually won by the former. "Nahi yaar, tha naa, I think...". He responded with an expression of sombre superiority and deeper understanding of the mysterious world we live in. He shook his head again and stressed, "It wasn't here before- we've taken a wrong turn". That accusation was enough to trigger a "No way, this is the only road back". Dark looks were exchanged. I hadn't seen the bridge- it would have made the perfect landmark. He obviously hadn't seen it (or he shall laugh at me for the rest of time of having conned me into thinking that way and being prabhaavit and writing this post). We rode over its span, confused in unison and unsure of what to expect. Swarms of anxiety flitted across any empty pockets of the mind still uncluttered by dread.
We hit the highway soon enough and flew back in the cold winter air. I have visited the site around 5 times after our initial visit- there is of course only one road that can take me there. I have seen the bridge there evertime, eyeing me with an air of deep amusement. Many days later the Grey Sith confessed of being gripped by a similar sense of fear of the unknown that fateful evening. An emotion strong enough from preventing both of us registering the presence of the bridge that sometimes isn't there.
Read a more sensationalized account (a far more colourful account from The Sith himself ) here.
And then- look that way!
It truly feels euphoric! COEP, for the second time in two years and the third time in the last ten years has made it to the finals of Purushottam Karandak, the city's most prestigious college level drama competition. It has been around two decades since the title glimmered in the showcase at college. Under such circumstances, it feels good to know that we have a fighting chance.
So what does any of that have to do with this piece of literature? Well, I have been fortunate enough to be on that Purushottam team- and will now share what went on behind the scenes in the last few days before the first round show. The team of writers from college thought that it would help the flow of the storyline if we were to introduce a certain character who could bring out the transformation of the lead actor. And bless their holy stars (or you could wonder which cruel act of the devil led them to this juncture), they picked me. That was a gamble. With under a week to go to D-Day, it would have been catastrophic if for some reason that plan backfired. It didn't. The show went off well and I'm still alive.
So here we have an enthu newbie on stage who's horrid at acting. Well, its actually painful to see him amble, emote or simply talk on stage. In such a situation, the whole team must come to his help and lift him up from the dregs of mediocrity, self doubt and complete lack of talent. Imagine, trying to infuse talent into a 20 year old- but they did that. As I tried helplessly to learn up my lines, a hint here or a word of advice there were constantly at hand. Finally the situation got so desperate that they said
"We'll microdirect this. You learn your lines and leave the puppeteering to us"
What would otherwise have taken an accomplished stage performer no more than two hours, those poor souls tried to bring in my acting over 3 days. A brief set of instructions that I received during the course of one of our sittings follows:
Team Member: The diction is all wrong. You're not supposed to be sympathetic. You're the practical dude of the story. Hakuna Matata. You're the guy who made the NatGeo job. Bring that flamboyance and that arrogance into the role.
One: Ok, whatever that's supposed to mean??!!! Ok, I'll try. here goes.
( I try in vain. T shakes her head in despair)
T: Let's try that again shall we.
O: OK
(I go at it again)
T: Never mind. Just say it the way I say it.
(and so i chirp along)
T: Okay. Now say "तू अस कस म्हनू शकतोस रे?" and then- look that way!
O: "तू अस कस म्हनू शकतोस रे?"
( this line is followed by a violent jerk of my head in the opposite direction- drawing scandalous looks from T)
T: Good
O: Yeah Right. Really?
T: That was great. Just do the same thing on stage and we'll get through this.
After similar such choreography (spiked generously with threats) I was able to not embarrass myself or the team on stage and the show went off without incident.
Sweet Car-ess
Pedestrians face newer and bolder challenges nowadays on the streets. Wet streets, coupled with one crazy amateur on four wheels means that Life Insurance is now mandatory or your children suffer!!!
Only last evening, to add to the latest list of possibly tragic casualties, a rather plump woman had her ear nicked- literally- when the side view mirror of the car one was driving hit her (she was appreciably short; still not a strong enough eason to get a "kaan ke niiche"). The horrifying thrill of being behind the wheel gets accentuated when mortals wander too close or too fast. Complete apparent loss of control(the car is in [expletive] gear) is the emotion that comes to the fore and last evening was no different. "Stay Calm", Yeah right!; worthless advice- some poor soul is gonna see the light soon and stay calm is the best thing anyone can come up with. Why not try something like "TURN [EXPLETIVE] LEFT YOU MORON, CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE VEERING TO THE RIGHT TOO MUCH???!@!&*&#^*&#". Then again it depends who you have in the advice chair. Some fascinating scenarios (One has personally never been in the midst of any of the following, but the reaction would be no different; if fate ever is kind enough) have been concocted below:
1) The smartest kid in college:
Smart Guy: We're all gonna die.
One: Shut up!
SG: What was anyone playing with when they gave you the car?
One: I said shut the [expletive] up!
SG:{horrified expression} You just used a bad word!!
One: Nappy pants....
SG: I wan't out now
One: Fine, jump to your death then
{In the meanwhile, two pedestrians have almost been shown the door and a cyclist is having a tough time coming to terms with his possible recent paralysis}
2) A leading dermatosurgeon
Doc: Do you know you have blackheads on your nose? My clinic offers excellent treatment
One: Dumbass, the end is near- say your prayers!
Doc: Post traumatic scars can often be as damaging as the injury itself. Why not consider Lucid Cream- complete skin solutions.
One: Which part of 'you're gonna be wiped off the face of the earth' don't you understand???
Doc: Don't fight it. Acceptance is the first step
{Both the occupants of the motorised vehicle have, well, they've gone over- overboard that is; through the windshield!!. What's up, Doc??}
3) Avnish(*)
A: Enthu, tula kay vattay, exactly kay trajectory asel tya kutryachi. I mean exactly how high should he be hit so that he'll land in the lap of the dame at the end of the lane.
One: Dunno man.. Tu sang
A: Ajun thoda straighten kar. Then floor her (the car I mean) and just before impact turn on the wipers!
One: Righto captain.
{Showing complete lack of sense that is supposed to be so common among those of the human race, the car actually accelerates down a narrow country lane- all for the benifit of science. The guiding philospophy- a greater good is being pursued and the dame was overweight anyway}
*=>Avnish : Sorry about your explicit mention but often when gears are changed, one wonders whether its all that mechanically viable in the current scheme of things! [:P]}
So the final statistics seem to appear somewhat like this:
Only last evening, to add to the latest list of possibly tragic casualties, a rather plump woman had her ear nicked- literally- when the side view mirror of the car one was driving hit her (she was appreciably short; still not a strong enough eason to get a "kaan ke niiche"). The horrifying thrill of being behind the wheel gets accentuated when mortals wander too close or too fast. Complete apparent loss of control(the car is in [expletive] gear) is the emotion that comes to the fore and last evening was no different. "Stay Calm", Yeah right!; worthless advice- some poor soul is gonna see the light soon and stay calm is the best thing anyone can come up with. Why not try something like "TURN [EXPLETIVE] LEFT YOU MORON, CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE VEERING TO THE RIGHT TOO MUCH???!@!&*&#^*&#". Then again it depends who you have in the advice chair. Some fascinating scenarios (One has personally never been in the midst of any of the following, but the reaction would be no different; if fate ever is kind enough) have been concocted below:
1) The smartest kid in college:
Smart Guy: We're all gonna die.
One: Shut up!
SG: What was anyone playing with when they gave you the car?
One: I said shut the [expletive] up!
SG:{horrified expression} You just used a bad word!!
One: Nappy pants....
SG: I wan't out now
One: Fine, jump to your death then
{In the meanwhile, two pedestrians have almost been shown the door and a cyclist is having a tough time coming to terms with his possible recent paralysis}
2) A leading dermatosurgeon
Doc: Do you know you have blackheads on your nose? My clinic offers excellent treatment
One: Dumbass, the end is near- say your prayers!
Doc: Post traumatic scars can often be as damaging as the injury itself. Why not consider Lucid Cream- complete skin solutions.
One: Which part of 'you're gonna be wiped off the face of the earth' don't you understand???
Doc: Don't fight it. Acceptance is the first step
{Both the occupants of the motorised vehicle have, well, they've gone over- overboard that is; through the windshield!!. What's up, Doc??}
3) Avnish(*)
A: Enthu, tula kay vattay, exactly kay trajectory asel tya kutryachi. I mean exactly how high should he be hit so that he'll land in the lap of the dame at the end of the lane.
One: Dunno man.. Tu sang
A: Ajun thoda straighten kar. Then floor her (the car I mean) and just before impact turn on the wipers!
One: Righto captain.
{Showing complete lack of sense that is supposed to be so common among those of the human race, the car actually accelerates down a narrow country lane- all for the benifit of science. The guiding philospophy- a greater good is being pursued and the dame was overweight anyway}
*=>Avnish : Sorry about your explicit mention but often when gears are changed, one wonders whether its all that mechanically viable in the current scheme of things! [:P]}
So the final statistics seem to appear somewhat like this:
- The odds that in walking for 1 km on Pune roads you will break a bone in your body= 15:1
- The odds that what you break keeps you in bed(not the lucky laid type)= 5:1
- The odds that the above case may be inflicted upon you with my addition to traffic= 50:1
- The net change in your fortune= almost none
Its all as safe as it was before this post- if you consider a continual fight for survival as safe. Godspeed!
G.M.R.Treat
The Giant Meterwave Radio Telescope at Khodad just outside of Narayangaon is one of those things that remind you of how smart mankind really is. Thirty monstrous dishes stand over 25 kilometers as they map the most intricate details of the Universe covering a cosmic expanse measuring millions of light years across. Neither the heat nor the dust storm blowing across the arid landscape managed to deterr the twenty odd students of our Astro Club from surveying all the details of the Antennas and control rooms.As humour continued to ooze from the heat affected and academically tortured souls, the miracles of science had given way to a classic spoof of an advertisement on TV. The complete form is given below:
But the visit was also special because of a marvellous photo-op just before packing up. A small lotus bed lies just beyond the entrance. And it was here that nature was at her quiet best.
Photo Concept: Abba; Execution : One
Fairytales- Cranial Mineral Depletion
The room swims in and out of focus. Influences/ stimulii have not come in any form. All it took was wood pulp printed double side in all its glory to deal a severe blow- post traumatic stress coupled with acute withdrawal sydrome have ensured that one now attempts to sheepishly grin at jokes cracked by anchors on TV news channels. Life doesn't get better than this. Maybe it does. Maybe not. One is unsure of how to put it.
Now boasting of visible traces of facial exoskeletal growth, the nagging feeling of growing up seeped away late this afternoon after a comprehensive pounding in the entangled world of telecommunications (Definition of AM: When we modulate amplitude, it is called AM). With such churlish attempts to pass time failing miserably, one's mind drifted to a fairytale world of adventure, intrigue and magic- of drama, hot babes and land deals gone bust. It didn't take a train trip, it didn't take a dream, all it needed was some good old timing diagrams and the transition was complete.
This world consists in all (for the sake of narration, of course) three hundred seventy two and a half characters, not all similar taken in random order and then sorted into groups according to instantaneous hormonal changes (as measured on the Playboy graph- standard scaling applies). Constant parallels can be found to characters based in other similar creative (Bah!) attempts (exclamation not to be mistaken with BAJ) like a computer game called Hercules, a stack of paper called the LOTR trilogy, a .pdf known simply as Arthur Dent and a talking great dane.(One wishes to thank all these sources but that would make it obvious beyond doubt that one really has very little to work with, so lets just skip this last bracketed comment/hint at life)
The Promising Saga That Hasn't Even Taken Off Yet (Volume I- draft)
As the yellowing patches of the ceiling had finally begun to peel, I felt the time had come. Cowardice is for those who could not see face to face with the truth. Ah, the joy that bullshit you don't mean brings with it. Nothing had changed in over three years- the same complaints, followed by resignation to the fate of things. Fate. That was a dangerous word. It had often awoken rash impulses. Such impulses will need to be curbed, I thought. The perils that disorganised living brought with it were many, but none as frustrating at the time as the inability to scheme. A deeper burning conscience(conscience was it?) would not allow anything beyond the first stage. The bigger picture was clear. Tomorrow was an important day. Keep it simple. Keep it straight. Breathtakingly simple was the new ingenious. Ingenious had left with the white haired guy people kept talking about.
Roughly seven hundred and odd feet away, a street dog roamed the alley with happy contempt. Yeh apna ilaqa hai. Sniffing away at the disgraced garbage bin had yielded nothing tonight. Even by its standards. Greener pastures must be found. The dog quickly corrected itself. I need some [expletive]meat . What went unnoticed by our four legged hero was the fact that the alley was not purely his. Fate (yup, here also) had better plans for the claustrophobic walls. Their caving in approximately an hour later would also lead to some interesting revelations.
~One would like to leave it here for the time being- victory is still not one's completely. With lower level coding and hurried scribbling still on the cards for a few days, it would be best not to leave such things purely to fate. More when the saga continues~
Now boasting of visible traces of facial exoskeletal growth, the nagging feeling of growing up seeped away late this afternoon after a comprehensive pounding in the entangled world of telecommunications (Definition of AM: When we modulate amplitude, it is called AM). With such churlish attempts to pass time failing miserably, one's mind drifted to a fairytale world of adventure, intrigue and magic- of drama, hot babes and land deals gone bust. It didn't take a train trip, it didn't take a dream, all it needed was some good old timing diagrams and the transition was complete.
This world consists in all (for the sake of narration, of course) three hundred seventy two and a half characters, not all similar taken in random order and then sorted into groups according to instantaneous hormonal changes (as measured on the Playboy graph- standard scaling applies). Constant parallels can be found to characters based in other similar creative (Bah!) attempts (exclamation not to be mistaken with BAJ) like a computer game called Hercules, a stack of paper called the LOTR trilogy, a .pdf known simply as Arthur Dent and a talking great dane.(One wishes to thank all these sources but that would make it obvious beyond doubt that one really has very little to work with, so lets just skip this last bracketed comment/hint at life)
The Promising Saga That Hasn't Even Taken Off Yet (Volume I- draft)
As the yellowing patches of the ceiling had finally begun to peel, I felt the time had come. Cowardice is for those who could not see face to face with the truth. Ah, the joy that bullshit you don't mean brings with it. Nothing had changed in over three years- the same complaints, followed by resignation to the fate of things. Fate. That was a dangerous word. It had often awoken rash impulses. Such impulses will need to be curbed, I thought. The perils that disorganised living brought with it were many, but none as frustrating at the time as the inability to scheme. A deeper burning conscience(conscience was it?) would not allow anything beyond the first stage. The bigger picture was clear. Tomorrow was an important day. Keep it simple. Keep it straight. Breathtakingly simple was the new ingenious. Ingenious had left with the white haired guy people kept talking about.
Roughly seven hundred and odd feet away, a street dog roamed the alley with happy contempt. Yeh apna ilaqa hai. Sniffing away at the disgraced garbage bin had yielded nothing tonight. Even by its standards. Greener pastures must be found. The dog quickly corrected itself. I need some [expletive]
~One would like to leave it here for the time being- victory is still not one's completely. With lower level coding and hurried scribbling still on the cards for a few days, it would be best not to leave such things purely to fate. More when the saga continues~
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