On RoadTrips

Note: I am deliberately not including any image in this post. I tend to look for the images to get the writers block removed, but this time I am forcing myself to solely depend on the written word to convey what I want to say.

Its a funny word, road-trip. Call it a ‘long distance commute’ or ‘longer than usual travel’ and it suddenly becomes something blurted from the mouth of most boring specimen of an already boring species. I think its the word trip that add the fervor, almost makes it sound like an adventure.

Genealogies aside,  you are my first proper road-trip companion, and aren’t I glad about that. We covered a total of 1100 miles in short span of 3 days, with the odometer for the trip on my car even overflowing on the way back.

Despite covering huge distances and doing so many things, its hard to point to a particular event or amusement that I think stood out from the rest. Each event had its own importance, its own value and place. Every moment spent laughing, crying and being with you is an experience in itself. I feel both susceptible and yet strengthened at the same time.There are many aspects of this relationship that still need ironing out which makes me feel that this too is analogous to our ‘longer than usual travel’.

When we start a journey, we seldom know where we’ll need to fill up, when coffee will demand itself, which country roads we might prefer, which flat tires we work through together. Each trip carries with it a great unknown and the unknown is what for me makes the trip.And so does a relationship.

I can be a stickler for my cars gas mileage, keep track of my pee breaks and have strict routes that we need to follow. But I dont function that way, and it is with some confidence when I say that you do not as well. I know its a damn long journey, but I sure am glad I have you along to share it with.


AE-Room 1027

CH1 ————————-
He stepped into the darkened room for the fifth time now.
‘This ought to be it’ – he smirked.

He had been trying to debug and correct the program for a little over six hours now.
‘Its always one state collapse or another, to think they’d have figured out multi-qubit level errors in the new release was futile.’

‘Alright, lets see’, he spoke to himself as he initiated the programs core services starting the old ancient crawl of the progress bar.

The technology had taken a brisk 30 years to develop. He’d been an average programmer from the start, but always had a good sense of where technology was headed. So even in the early 2020s when one of the first breakthrough papers was still talked of in hushed tones in academic and industry circles, he got a sense of the remarkable future that lay ahead for humanity, and it would not be blockchain or another social-media this time.

Quantum computers had been in mass production for well over two decades now. Life in the new ‘quantum-age’ or ‘k-age’  would seem incomprehensible to a time traveller from the past. State Transcoders, Virtual State Progs, Neural Mirrors — all needed underlying jargon that did not exist a single generation ago.
The impacts were almost immediate. Economies boomed and crashed and boomed again, all in a span of few months. Societies were broken down at their core and built bottom up again.

But today wasn’t about reminiscing the past, he looked down to find the bar complete.
This would be the only time the program took more than 4 seconds to load.
He sighed a heavy breath. Suddenly the room transformed from the black insular coverings to a warm yellow glow. The reality emulator program finally worked.

———————— CH2

The text bubble on her device popped up, asking,  ‘Give me a second..’, so she had full 5 minutes to herself.
But to her surprise the laptop started buzzing almost immediately, leaving her scrambling to find the headphones. ‘Boyo!’, she internalized.
‘Someones a little early today!’ she started with a smile.

He had been talking to her image for well over 2 hours now. The emulator program was working flawlessly up until now

He could see her, noticing each hairline originating from the widows peak in her likening over the Macs screen as he had done innumerable times before. Her smile still the most innocent event he ever witnessed. Her eyes lit the same as he remembered, probing, asking deepest of questions without uttering a single word. He knew it wasn’t real, yet he could not bear himself to believe otherwise.

‘Whats up?’, the soft voice asked. With the familiar slight pout and a genuine concern.
His tears started swelling up.

It seems remarkable that we always wish to capture certain moments for ever, yet however even our own memories mostly fail us. No matter how hard we try to contain a moment, any reliving leaves something to be desired.

This particular moment  arrived again. They had relived it when it happened it for the first time. He was reliving it again today.

Time seemed to have lost its meaning, and its flow held ashore by the sight of his beloved. In her tired eyes he saw the care, the affection. Still unchanged, still unconditional.

The calls were important, each an enquiry into their experience of the magical relationship. Each a re-enactment of exploration of the others soul. He found himself loosing his identity, merging with the other, boundaries blurring.

He looked around his room.
At the time, it had seemed small, but now it contained the cosmos inside.
What value is progress, what does wealth bring.
If all you ever wished for had already passed in a moment, that may never arrive.
He finally shut it off. It was time for the good byes

Dear Jackie,


Since I was a kid, I found solace in the written word. Theres something quite powerful about being able to construct sentences to convey what the inner cogs of your mind are rambling about. Since Ive been noticing the cogs getting a little louder recently, it seems like an opportune moment to write about the influence you have had over me in a short amount of time, although despite me acting mostly to the contrary, but more on that later.

First, a little about me. I am a peculiar person.I guess everyone thinks they’re peculiar, but in my case I’m genuinely concerned that I am.

I find myself mostly engulfed by this sense of urgency that wants to take in all the knowledge and the experiences that are. I find the beauty and vastness and the     wisdom in the world so vast and abundant that I feel handicapped by not being able to ingest it all in a single gulp. As I close my eyes, or sit in a quite place, my mind rushes looking outwards, wondering all the workings that are going on around me. What      lofty advances have I not heard about yet, what must be other people be doing to make their life worthwhile. What am I missing out on. This constant inner monologue helps me drive my passion, but it can also be a constant irk, and I’ve found until now hard to shut it off. The solution that I found for this was too inevitably disregard my quest for knowledge and turn myself off on any thought that ventured out into the woods in search of the unknown.

Now onto you and your influence on my life. I’ve mentioned this already, but getting to know you was a process in catching up with a person that Ive known all along.

Theres something valuable you bring to my life in addition to wonderful companionship. Its the self belief that in my oddness, my peculiarities and shenanigans, I have a person that will accept me for the most parts. I do not expect you to ignore my mistakes, to brush off my mistakes, but I do admire you in the support you lend to be the person that I already am. Your laughs and smiles are imprinted upon my heart as the most joyous moments in recent memory. The laughs, tears and emotions that I share with you help me feel at east. Your support brings me inwards, draws me to the finer things in life.

I admire you Jackie. I might not be able to convey this, but I know that you are a resolute and determined spirit that has faced far more dark monsters that a normal person should bear. You are a warrior, but its not with weapons or words but your rebellion to the harsh realities of life and determination to look for your happy little path that you make as you go along

In my moments of solitude, I sometimes sit in admiration of how you have made me realize how vibrant, joyful and thoughtful a human life can be.

And it’s not only the joys that I share, I spend a few of my lows with you too. But your presence makes even drifts of melancholy, just a few passing rough waves in the otherwise calm sea.

Talking of rough seas, I understand that I have trouble keeping up with lofty projections that I like to proclaim. I have issues when it comes to improving my little silliness, forgetfulness and astute nature. But it should not deter you from continuing to guide me through and telling me what the right path is.

These few short words do no justification to how important you have become in my life and what you bring into it, but it is my hope that I have done some effort to bring my feelings to light.

Love and Regards —

in plain sight

That road had a sharp gradient drop before merging on to B.C road. It lay bare on one edge, while on the other was shielded by unknown creepers, clinging in desperation to  the walls of the mansion of a rich baron, now long-forgotten and quite possibly dead. It waved and curved shortly afterwards with its shenanigans, before it ran pass the B.P.(tm) LPG storage, a single storied building with its typical multi layers of cheap paint and familiar air of arrogance. During the busy days, the place was a sight to behold with its long impatient lines and familiar metallic clanking of the forebearers of the daily bread all weighed by the ever present cloak of incompetence followed to the point of religiosity.

The road left the store behind to follow a sharp sinusoidal dip, to the endless terror and joy of 8 year olds clinging to the back seats of their fathers Chetak, an experience matched only by the mighty rides of big town parks. But its not like they had anything to fear, as just at the crest at the other end stood the neighbourhood temple, perhaps strategically placed to assuage any nascent doubts as to their fathers motor skills.

It then took a slow, almost non deliberate, curve to the left.And it is the on the banks of this curve, that our destination lay.

“Thank you, as always” the spectacled middle aged supervisor remarked, while keeping her head sunk in the dusty logs as she made the entry.

It was as hideous on the inside as on the out. Protruding at an awkward angle, the building seemed to be at odds with the general scheme of the roads demeanour. The steps leading up to it, a case in point of irony, chipped away at most places and laid bare their heedless makers intentions. Surrounded by others towering beside it, the building would have found itself covered in perpetual shadows for entirety of the day had it not been the first in the lane.

To most it was just the ‘Blind Girls School’. A 2 storeyed, 5 or 6 bedroom building with a small office at front. Inside there were few walls,mostly separating the major rooms from one another.Among the rooms, 2 perhaps were classrooms  while the rest held the bunk beds with and one makeshift kitchen or storage. If one were frequent enough to visit, they would find the rooms playing a sad tragic game of round robin with each other with every room acquiring a new role on every visit.

“Sir, you can send the kids to distribute the fruits.” she said, finally looking over.

What is Yoga? On Ego and Enlightenment.

I wanted to ask this for a long time! Why Yoga?
How are you able to discipline yourself, each morning without fail, to wake up every day, follow a fixed path, control all the enticements of a warm bed and lethargy, and follow your sacred routine to inch perfection. Bad weather, new location, lack of sleep, workload? I have never seen these immaterial things come in your way!

Sadhguru helped me understand the ‘why’. Although for someone as ignorant as me, it ignited a sequence of another set of questions, suitable for another post perhaps.

Your ‘obsession’ in yoga, it turns out according to sadhguru, is a way of finding out who you are. It is a way of finding your inner self, finding the ‘path’. Art is an expression, a way of giving in to your senses and bringing them about. Yoga, on the contrary, is a reflection inwards. A confluence of your body and spirit, or so I understand. In words of Sadhguru, you are not satisfied with deduction, nor beliefs based on experiences of others can quench your thirst. Yoga is the path to experience.
Here are some links that I should remember for reference:
Is there a god? (wonderful story about a charvak and Gautam)
What is God?
What is Enlightenment? (For my meek mind)

As a final note, I also realised this is in fact not a right question to ask. If the experience is right, If I am in constant ecstasy of the creation, will I ever doubt why it was created in the first place? Perhaps when we sit next time to talk, you can tell me whether I am on the right path or not.

Seeking your blessing.
Your Son

Crappy tea, midterms and longing for home (at least the idea of it)

Its almost been 2 months since I’ve come to this country. Here are some serious and non serious (curious non theless )observations about this country and myself that I’ve made in the past 2 months.

  • Tea is CRAPPY here-This country is making me hate tea, my beloved indo-anglan (is that a word ‘anglan’ or should I revert back to anglo indian) beverage does not taste the same anymore, its slowly being eroded from its position of prominence by the harsh and coarse ‘cuppa coffee’.
  • People are weird. And thats not just the Americans that I’ve met, even fellow international students (read Indian).
  • One can never get over leaving home. Even after 2 months, out of nowhere I might remember you mom and brother for no reason and then feel sad about it.
  • I am a man of routine. People get bored of routines easily. NOT ME! I am a sucker for routines, even it means having the same source of entertainment every weekend, or the same breakfast, or the same position in library. I like when things are preordained and follow a strict regimen.
  • I STILL can find time to read books. Dont freak out, its not the same read till eyes gorge out type of reading but yes after a week or so I do get the time to sneak in a few pages.
  • It takes me a LOT more time than others to get used to new things. Perhaps point 4 is to blame. I cant adjust to easily and readily. Takes some time and working to get into that.
  • Point 6 leads us to -> My plan of action needs to change. Here comes the hard part. Ive been used to doing things a certain way back home, but here that needs to change if I have to have a shot a little scope of any measure of success.
  • I like the idea of a ‘home’. Perhaps Im little too naive to understand it properly but yes, I like the idea of being in a home. Might say Im old school but I like the idea of a place where I know Ill be loved, liked (basically tolerated) and most importantly fed. Perhaps its little too soon to think of such things, but I think when the right time and the right person comes along, I might be ready to take the plunge. But then again thats taking things a little too far as of now.
  • Things are pretty much automated here as compared to home. Yay, that means more employment opportunities for me.
  • Whenever  I like someone, or the idea of someone. i end up getting dissapointed or embarrassing myself by expecting too much. Yes, happened again. But I think i need to slow things down. NO ONE, not even you and mom for that matter, can understand me in the very first few interactions if we were to be strangers. So expecting them from someone unknown is taking things a little too far (Taking things to far might have been a better headline for this post it seems.). So, in short, I liked someone, straightaway blurted out how I felt, made things awkward, ended up loosing a good friend. God I swear I’ll have to make do with you guys fixing up for me if things keep up like they have been since college.

So these are some observations. ill post on this blog whenever I get the time. Love you Always…
Take Care

The Human Experience

I have grown up listening to you telling us how we exist and yet fail to live, how we are asleep while still awake.
I have been thinking on these lines for sometime now.
We have been crawling across the same planet for quite a number of years  now, as a species we have managed to put ourselves largely over the natures driving forces and put ourselves at a pedestal overlooking a significant part of the universe which we are both a part and observers of. Isn’t it strange that while observing the universe we are also in a certain aspect acknowledging our own existence and observing it?

What means to be human? What is the thing, that ceases us from being just ‘objects’ and transforms us something more fleeting. Definitely our emotions play a part, yet they are no more than withered leaves carried out by autumn winds. They are mere reflections of the whole from which they arise, perhaps so is the case with our feelings. Rendering meaning to this wonderful innate joy of pure existence puts asks from us to define a way in which we are to go about this experience.

I like to believe that perhaps life is just a dance, played out to the music orchestrated by the cosmos. We have been dancing for millions of years, its just that during these few decades of our existence as humans we become aware(yet frustratingly ignorant) of this beautiful dance played out in the vast cosmic stage that is the universe. Be are both at once universe and  its observers. A wonderful case of the examiner  examining itself. Alan Watts is surely to be blamed for my such thoughts, but yet bizarre as they may seem I can’t help but agree. We are offsprings of an entity, the universe, far more complex and vibrant than the god of the myths.The universe expects us to understand itself through us. To wonderfully, tragically, or as we seem fit live out in all the possible ways of experience, like a mother witnessing far away lands through the saying of her child (though I make the deliberate error of such a metaphor)

I wish to write more on this subject but the late hour forces me to end this a little abruptly (Its 2:28 AM ALREADY!) by commenting how wonderful it is to just merely exist in its true sense 🙂

Take care !

Love-Work-Peace and everything in between!

ImageI came across my first reading of a work of John Steinbeck while going through your collection this winter, he writes in a eloquent manner with emphasis on the underlying human emotions to a situation. I had read an article on him earlier than that, which I had saved, unknowing to the fact that I will get to like him as a novel writer, it shows a letter Steinbeck sent to his son when informed that the 15 year old felt that he was in love and goes like:

“New York
November 10, 1958

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.

But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.


Don’t worry, I haven’t found someone like that which, I ensure you and ma, if I ever did you’ll be the first ones to be informed.

Of course one finds little to contradict this ageless wisdom, but still it had me thinking, why a selfless “outpouring of everything good in you” be limited to only your affection to the other person, shouldn’t such an outpouring be the basis of everything you do in life?

Yesterday I was reading about the potters of Andretta, a remote village in Himachal, famous for its unique pottery and artistic history.
A potter, I came to understand, does not know initially what final exact shape her work is going to take. She starts with a small lump of clay and works her fingers around it to put forth the combined force of the spinning disc and her imagination with a meditative concentration.This caught my imagination that isn’t this the same outpouring that Steinbeck talked of? 

An artist is considered to be someone who gives vent to her emotions, someone who extends the inner reaches of his mind into the objects that are created.But why can’t we be artists in our own rights, what stops us choosing a path that liberates us from the clutches of the mundane and helps us express ourselves. 
Work is something that is considered a mean to financial security yet it is seldom in layman terms considered to be a medium of self expression for a person. What stops us from converting our mundane daily tasks into profound expressions ?
Sadly I don’t know, neither do I have a definite answer of what I would call as my medium of self expression. But what I know is that no matter what field I get into I must try and use it as something that can spread the colors of my life.