One Life

The Relic I Will Be

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 16:00:19 GMT

At the heart of everything is that

I don't know exactly what, or why I bother to speak

And I feel no urge to change the topic now

You will never know who I was, nor do I want that fact to spread

When you lift this out of the dark mouth of this dreamy abyss,

Shake loose the dirt of centuries over the plaque

And hold it to the amazing sunlight I have already forgotten

I shall not rise again through my writing

For I wish not to be disturbed

But a veritable treasure this will be, I am sure,

A relic, of historic value, but the personal little strains that

I write this for, now,

Will be suppressed and forgotten

That is how you are

A myopic generation, refusing to see what's right in front of you

because it's right in front of you

And no one ever taught you how to see such things.

Fine, I shall remain a relic, and though I quiver at the thought of being hung for the public display,

I shall be long gone by then, that is my only consolation.

Come find me out, after a thousand years, pull me out of this cave

And do with me whatever you wish to,

I don't care, for this will not be me any more when you pluck it

I am taking the train tonight.

1Life.

Tags: relic, random.

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Two of Us #14

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 11:41:03 GMT

Day 628

L Day 628, man.

N So we stuck through, did we?

L No, N. that doesn’t imply we stuck through. But it looks like — touch wood — we’re having fair weather.

N Well, happiness is what matters. When the sun shines, you kind of strangely forget about what it’s like when it doesn’t. And it’s not good when it doesn’t. So we don’t want that.

L Right. N?

N Yeah?

L We been out of touch.

N Why?

L Dunno, maybe because I didn’t need you, maybe never did? It’s easier saying those things now, you know.

N You mean you are happier?

L Strangely, N, I’m not sure. It’s like TV. Everything’s TV. Nothing matters too much.

N That’s bad, I guess.

L Yeah, but I ain’t feeling any urgency or any direct discomfort because of it. It’s just a sense that this shouldn’t be right that makes me worry about it. Not too much, though.

N It’s time you got another.

L You think so?

N I think so.

L N, you told me to not give up hope.

N L, we both know that doesn’t matter any more. We turned out fools. And we didn’t really have it in our hands.

L That’s why, N, I’m not feeling motivated to go into all this again, where you are always at risk of turning out stupid, and paying a lot in damages. It’s just that I invest so much… And besides,…

N Besides?

L Besides, I don’t feel an urgency like that. If a situation comes by, I’ll judge it and decide.

N But who’ll turn off the TV meanwhile?

L I guess college will.

N Man, college. That sounds so… so new.

L Yeah. Me. In college. Time slips by, man, irreversibly. Not all of that is good.

N You, the eternal moaner.

L I see reason.

N I see reason to not talk about it now.

L Right, me too. You know, it’s a hard job keeping up with all your friends.

N Count the good ones.

L Can’t. Not here. Bad idea, N.

N Some you will shed.

L Funny, isn’t it, how at one time I wouldn’t be convinced that I’d ever get over it?

N You’ll do the same thing if it happens again.

L Dragon-shit, man. Don’t you wish it.

N I think you’ll be careful.

L Will be, but I don’t know how effective that will be. You don’t get to know how you’ll turn out in a situation till you are in that situation.

N It’s a museum into yourself, isn’t it?

L Not quite as glamorous as all that.

N Hmm.

L How ’bout we put up the graphs?

N Who’ll know what they are?

L They don’t have to. It’s my blog, I do what I like.

N Okay.

L In alphabetical order.

N That’s the way they are, anyway.

L/N.

A12090605 / 140515.

Tags: none

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EXE's From My Past

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 10:56:01 GMT

When I used to be in class VIII or so, we had Visual Basic in our Computer Practical syllabus. I eventually took a strong liking to it and even brought home monster-size books on VB. During this time, I created a number of applications on VB. The best of them, a fully customizable multi-step calculator, was lost in a disk crash. However, today I opened an old backup CD to look for WinRAR Archiver and stumbled upon a few such applications I had stored away on the CD. It was all very nostalgic.

The first is a puzzle game I had created, the type where you have to move tiles around a grid to form a picture, only I used numbers, so that there are many formations you can try to make. This is the link to that application:

The second is the first version of the calculator. The history behind it is that we already had a calculator on our syllabus, a really stupid one whose code we simply had to copy from our textbook. It could do just the four primary functions, and without a great deal of accuracy (it used only a few decimal points). I improved upon it a little, and brought out my version, which you can download here:

Then I worked a hell lot more on it, and produced something that no man has ever set his mortal eyes on, but, as I said, it’s lost now.

I remember I cried the night it happened.

1Life.

Tags: exe, vb, app

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Wisp

Tue, 01 Jul 2008 14:25:48 GMT

I’ve seen you in my dreams

We were chasing a distant blue horizon in the sands of time

And the neon clouds cast their picture on that endless land

That world was ours; that world was mine

Now I see it was a fleeting transience;

A scene in the middle of waking from a dream

Into another

Now, here, my world is running a fever

And around me I see an alien light

Rousing worlds that had gone to sleep since November

I won’t be this me tomorrow, any more

But that numbness pulses underneath my skin

Making me repent for not being someone else

Someone without distant lines to chase

Under neon skies and over the endless sands of time

1Life.

Tags: wisp, poem

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JEE Results

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 15:39:27 GMT

Our state engineering joint entrance results were announced today. It’s called West Bengal Joint Entrance Examination (WBJEE). But let me first tell you how much importance it has held for me.

I was pretty darned pissed off when in the first place it clashed with another test I wanted to take. Thankfully, on the penultimate day, questions were leaked and the joint was postponed. I sat for the other test.

We had a tour coming up after that, which most probably would engulf the possible revised date.

Finally, it didn’t. Most unfortunately, because I had decided to not take the test at all if it came to that. However, we would be returning only a couple of days before the revised date, and there would be no time to study.

We didn’t cancel the tour for that.

We returned, and I didn’t study a word in those two or three days. There were my friends who had studied really, really hard (and I mean really, really hard) for entire weeks before the first date and an entire month before the second, and I was lazing on a couch watching TV.

I sat for the test, a thousandth time less nervous than those around me, and those three hours were just spent realizing that I hadn’t forgotten everything.

The days coming up to today, the day of the declaration of results, were packed with anticipation and anxiety for my friends, and a lot of Dan Brown and Chetan Bhagat for me.

Today, the results are out. I’ve ranked 468, while some of my friends are in the thousands.

Although it’s not wise to extrapolate each important incident in your life to deduce some general rule, yet, and especially because this wasn’t important to me, I am enticed to declare the rule that:

‘1 unit less of anxiety and nervousness during an examination equals about twenty units more of studying.’

I guess I’m off to somewhere to study Physics now (you thought I’d go for engineering? Pooh.), and in accordance to the rule above, I’m looking for many more books to read and games to download to my phone. Then surely, in some dazzling near future, I’ll be all over your newspapers and TV. You just wait till that.

1Life.

Tags: WBJEE, results.

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That orange plastic bag

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 11:08:39 GMT

That orange plastic bag, the one in which the last segment of my life was stored away, was transacted today.

I had to do it, because I’m going away to study in a few weeks, and I really can’t leave it behind. Besides, cursory glances at a few pages is all that I will ever be able to do with those diaries. I won’t like handling them any more than that. So what’s the use anyway? So I gave them back.

She looked exactly as I remembered her. She had the same teeth. I didn’t feel scared when I saw her, unlike at some other points of time. She was actually looking pretty good. She was wearing a… er… let’s see… a sky blue and orange top, grayish blue jeans, and similarly coloured sneakers. And kohl. She had a green side-bag. She looked pretty okay. And I think she had a white belt.

She looked a little uncomfortable for the few seconds we talked. She had her hand to her hip, fumbling with something, and… well, you can tell when someone is a little uncomfortable. I liked that, because I wasn’t uncomfortable. Yes, I was a little nervous before she came. We were meeting in the same damn place we had on our first date. Same damn standing spot. However, I wasn’t having any special feeling, really. The whole damn affair is actually very far away now. Very far away.

Our talk was very short, though. But I think, I just have this little inkling, that she was a little taken aback by something on me.

Anyways, I don’t wanna talk about it any more because it’s again starting to look like I’m thinking a lot about it, which is not the case.

Somehow this is right, this is good, this not having to be involved so much. I think I’ll try to be like this for longer, till something happens. But yeah, if nothing happens ever, I’d be pissed off.

Oh yes. The orange plastic bag wasn’t entirely delivered. A bit of it remains with me. Just the plastic bag, really. I did try to get rid of it too, but she wouldn’t take it and was about to throw it in a bin when I took it back.

1Life.

Tags: none.

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Recall

Thu, 05 Jun 2008 03:11:42 GMT

I had a dream last night. (I don’t call it at 3 this morning. I prefer to call it last night at 3.) In that dream, I was in some type of hotel. That hotel had an ancient little statue. It was a fat, stout old man’s statue. The statue had a long thing in its hand. Most probably it was a whip. But its purpose was not torture. The hotel people had told me once that that statue had been built under the supervision of some old Indian sultan like Aurangzeb, and inside it was a wonder of mechanical engineering. For the statue could dance about exactly like a human being, some moves being very fast. It would jump and spin its whip and perform complicated body movements very fast. I watched its performance once more last night.

Now, the thing is, I’d been to that hotel before at another time and had learnt about the statue and watched its performance. This was the second stay at that hotel. I’m damn sure of that. Even in last night’s dream I knew that I’d been there in an earlier dream, some other day.

However, now that I’m in wake mode, I realize that I haven’t ever before recollected having dreamt of such a thing.

The question is then: did I really ever dream of it before last night, or was that feeling woven into last night’s dream? Because I’ve often felt just a feeling in dreams. Not vision, not touch or sound, just a feeling, but as real as the senses. Perhaps even more efficiently real, because senses are just a means to achieve an end. And that end is a feeling, a fact lodged in your head. Although dreams are entirely feelings, feelings of sensory stimulations without having sensory stimulations, there are some cases where even that is absent, and you are not given a sensory feeling to deduce a fact. You are just given that end fact without having to deduce it. This is how you sometimes know things in dreams.

Or did I actually dream of it earlier, but in the same night? I’ve learnt that people dream in intermittent bursts. I might have been thinking of a previous burst. However, I can tell you that it distinctly felt like recalling something that had happened a few days ago.

Or maybe I had really dreamt of it some other day, only couldn’t recall it in wake mode. Instead, it came back in sleep mode. Who knows? (This last one may not be a rhetorical question.)

This has happened to me many, many times before. Even in waking moments, I sometimes come across stuff that rings a bell in there, but I can’t recall when such a thing had happened before. Sometimes I realize that I’d seen such a thing in a dream, and sometimes it’s just déjà vu.

1Life.

Tags: dreams, recall, dejavu

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Rambles Again

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 13:31:30 GMT

The sunset as reflected from the glass panes of a building out that window always looks magical. It’s always better than what the sunset really is like.

We realize that too late. Even then, we wonder if there wasn’t anything at all behind what we saw in the glass windows.

Today, I’ve swallowed a seed. I cannot tell you what seed; I don’t know what that fruit is called, and chancing a guess might be folly.

I am, of course, hoping it will pass without incident through the entire course of my alimentary system and that I will meet it tomorrow morning. I am hoping to be able to recognize it then.

Every now and then, I am gripped by a need to do something meaningful, constructive, rich, to fill up time that would otherwise vacuously float past. But float it does, most of the time. The bitch won’t stop for a moment for me to catch up and decide what meaningful thing I could do next.

In the end, I think humankind has been a great misfortune to befall this planet. I think I can already feel the seed in my abdomen. Anyway, humankind. Yes, all the more pathetic because we had the brains. Even more pathetic because we brag about it very frequently.

I’ve just been reading V for Vendetta. I guess that made me a little bitter.

Are you reading this? Who are you? Do you know me? If you don’t, will you, ever? Does that thought strike you anywhere?

When I start talking like this, you can tell that I have nothing much else to write about.

And you’re right this time.

1Life.

Tags: rambles

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Rambles

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 13:26:28 GMT

I wish we were in a world where you didn’t have to first do the tiresome job of proving yourself in front of a whole horde of people who are inert gits themselves before you were allowed to work in your own solitude and do something useful and feel good about it.

I’m getting tired of the world here. I’m also wondering why people aren’t complaining about the way it is. If individually there is an urge to see it differently, why does the exact opposite show collectively?

Or is this all because everyone is too lazy to extend their concerns too much and beyond a point, just accepts what the system gives them? If that is so, it will be impossible to change anything that will stay changed for ever. But the question is, where did the system come from? Is it just that we, in passing, believe in the ghost of a system that has actually helped create it in reality? Is it because we need something to complain about? Or is it Level Zero again, that when something does change and become different and better, we slowly come up with new sets of things to complain about?

Don’t worry, you’re not supposed to understand any of this. If you somehow are being able to, you are either misinterpreting or you are… well, not misinterpreting. In which case, well, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

Somehow, sometimes I get a peek into the feeling that this precious life, drops of priceless time, it’s been a horrible waste. God, they don’t know they aren’t coming back ever. Or maybe our heads are just too small to take it all in.

All of this results in just a heavy feeling in the head. I think too much.

I really didn’t want to tread this path. Now I’m down again. It’s become difficult to get me up from there, over the past few years.

I’m sorry if this post didn’t give you anything. If always it was about giving and getting, it would be a TV show, not real life. In real life there’s a lot of waste and a lot of gaps and stupidity. And we’re always trying our best to pretend that behind it all there surely is a brilliant glimmering orb of something too beautiful to comprehend. Optimism. Yet, I actually do hope there’s something like that. Or it would be too vacant and stupid, too much of a waste, really.

More later.

1Life.

Tags: rambles

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Dove is burning up Indonesia.

Wed, 21 May 2008 12:20:07 GMT

I learnt a few weeks back from the Greenpeace website that Unilever, which manufactures Dove, uses palm oil in many of its products. That's not a problem. The problem is that they are acquiring this palm oil from illegal suppliers in Indonesia, as a result of which the Indonesian forests are under a huge, huge threat. Let me remind you, there ain't many rainforests left in the world. Indonesia is important. It is home to orang-utans and many other species that are just dying out there as the forests burn away to supply palm oil for your facial. As an educated internet-user, I urge you to watch the video below which Greenpeace has released. Please do this. We are the only species with the brains and the resources to protect the wildlife of this planet. Let's not have to stand facing ourselves one day and realize that we have used all those smarts on how to devastate our ancient forests and kill the animals in them. Please watch this video. If it takes some time to load, please, please, be patient. It's not a long video, just about a minute, won't take long to load.

Dove Onslaught(er) from Greenpeace on Vimeo.

If you want to know more and about other issues or get involved, please visit the Greenpeace website or any other organization that you may have heard of, like WWF.
A recent development is that Unilever has responded to the over 40,000 e-mails sent to them from around the world to protest against this. It has promised to stop this and to aggressively lobby with other giant manufacturers to stop this illegal supply. All of this has happened solely from the protests that people like you and me have launched through a simple e-mail. So you see, you can do it too if you wanted.

1Life.

Greenpeacebuzz

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Hang Art

Sun, 11 May 2008 01:50:10 GMT

You know, those times when the fact that you have an excruciatingly slow computer decides to establish itself once again on a day when you need to get a lot of things done, and you've just clicked on the icon of the third application when everything freezes, nothing is opening, and time is ticking by, and there's a stupid red light on the CPU, and you've just about reached the end of your rope, and are dragging the Winamp window all over the desktop in frustration, if somehow you take just a second to isolate yourself from the moment, from your life, from the indifferent screen in front of you, calm yourself down for a single second with inner energy and click PrtScr,

you get this.

I've christened it hang art. You can actually create many different sorts of patterns, provided your machine remains hanged for long enough. See, once you get into hang art, the phenomenon of hanging becomes a much anticipated one. A single idea that can chop off such a huge amount of frustration from your life.

1Life.

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Me or You?

Thu, 08 May 2008 13:02:39 GMT

Someone has insisted, repeatedly, that I am a bit too concerned about myself, always muddled up with sordid affairs inside my head, and that I don’t care a hang about others.

I searched within my blog for two terms using Google. The first term was me. The second term was you.

The first gave 220 results. The second gave 250.

So there.

To know how those stats stand right now, you can click:

Number One: Me

Number Two: You

1Life.

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Search One Life

Thu, 08 May 2008 11:57:33 GMT

To search for a term or phrase within my blog using Google, go to google.com or the corresponding Google site for your country.

In the search box, type

site:1lifeisallwegot.spaces.live.com <search term>

· There should be no gap between the colon and my blog address.

· No need for http:// .

· There should be a space between that first part and your search term.

For example, to search for the word story on my blog, you need to type on the Google search box:

site:1lifeisallwegot.spaces.live.com story

The search results will be exclusively from my blog. All entries, from the beginning to the most recent, all lists and all modules will be searched.

This nifty tip on Google is courtesy of:

http://google.about.com/od/googlepowersearches/qt/sitesearchdef.htm

1Life.

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Help Myanmar cyclone victims through Google

Thu, 08 May 2008 11:53:33 GMT

I just noticed this below the search textbox on Google:

I appreciate that a lot. If you have the capacity to donate, please do. I've heard that the military isn't allowing the funds to come in. Lousy bastards.

I don't have no money of my own, so all I could do was post this entry on my blog.

1Life.

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Transitions

Tue, 06 May 2008 12:22:02 GMT

I saw a dead animal lying on the street today. Near a busy bend. It was a small animal, about the size of a cat. I think it was a cat, but it might have been a young dog. It had clearly been run over or pressed to the road in some other way. This showed only in its head, as far as I remember. Its head was strangely narrow. It had been squashed in a little. There wasn’t much blood I could see, but the jaws had been pressed down and the tongue was lolling out of the slightly open mouth.

Disturbing, no doubt. However, after the almost one second that I had glanced at it, I knew that not all of that disturbing feeling related to the obvious reasons connected with a gruesome death. Or maybe, they connected with exactly that, only momentarily I had forgotten what feelings were supposed to be obviously connected with a gruesome death and they had been replaced by my dislike for transitions. I don’t presume everyone shares this notion, and their interpretations of the obvious feelings connected with seeing a run-over carcass on the road may be different.

What stimulated this thought in me was that the physical state of that body was just that of one that had been given a stronger force from above, pressing down, than one that its structure can bear without collapsing. The results had been the same as to be expected from a normal physical system. A water balloon would have succumbed in a similar way. That would have been a completely physical phenomenon — the squashing of a water-balloon. What hit me was this was one too — the collapse of a physical system under pressure. It was simply a body made out of common earthly elements and it responded to force in just the same way as any inanimate object did.

When that dog was alive (sorry, but even if it was a cat, I have to think of it as a dog now, because I’ve been thinking that during the time I’ve been writing up to this.), it makes no sense to continue a sentence after such a long bracket, so let’s start over.

When that dog was alive, our treatment of it would be completely different. We would look at it as a living thing, with a life, and with a story. A story that was still incomplete, still being written, still going somewhere because it was alive. It would have a nature. It would be either a cowardly dog or a friendly dog or an unfriendly dog or a boring leave me alone dog. It would have a daily routine. It would be living.

Now suddenly, it had become a mechanical system that had responded according to expectation to an exceeding force pressing downwards.

We look at completely different properties of two systems: the living and the dead.

Amiability, greed, laziness.

Mass, flexibility, and gases that build inside the body.

All the time it’s alive and it’s not making me think in terms of its physical properties, it’s still that physical system, all along. There’s just an overpowering presence of something else that clouds that bit of information and any necessity for it.

And then it’s dead and it’s just a system that responded to a pressure.

I find that transition disturbing. And I mean just the transition. I don’t care if you now dice it up into a hundred pieces and steam it and serve it on a plate. The transition is complete, it has been well taken care of, seen through to the end and the thing has been transformed completely.

But it was still a relatively undeformed carcass and it reminded me of its previous state, and there is such a cleft between the two forms, it makes me uneasy. There is something about that transition, from being alive and being a thing which has a body and limbs as merely consequent necessities for the primary purpose of it being there, to being just that structure and nothing else, not being dead because being dead churns up an idea of the thing still being there and being dead, but just having left and not being any more, that I wholly and thoroughly desist.

Sometimes when watching those predator-prey chases on Animal Planet, it’s okay when you show me a lion family eating out of something that appears to be mostly bloody meat. But when something is being swallowed and the transition hasn’t completed yet, like a chameleon eating a struggling, fluttering butterfly, it stirs up the heeby-jeebies.

And not just matters concerning death. When there’s a successful system that’s in a good condition and it starts being abused or being broken down and damaged somehow, I can’t stand the transition. Sometimes I prefer the complete demolition.

I remember having been on a sea-beach somewhere. It was dusk, and the darkness was increasing. I’d built a quote sand castle unquote which was just a heap of sand, except with straighter and smoother sides than a natural heap of sand. But it was my something, nonetheless.

I had been off to somewhere else for some time and I think my father showed me that the tide had risen and wave after wave had just started to slowly destroy the castle.

I couldn’t stand it. I went and crushed the whole thing with my foot.

I remember having been very upset about it for quite a while after.

There’s just something about these transitions that I can’t stand. I find them, somehow, to be the pinnacle of a sort of perverseness, to be forced to watch them.

Maybe many share it. I no longer really think that I am unique in many of my beliefs. But one requires to believe in something, some special place where he isn’t quite like others. With this rising population, it’s getting harder to bet on that.

I learnt recently that this sort of thing is called an idiosyncrasy. I think.

1Life.

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The Handshake Hours

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 13:48:41 GMT

When the clock strikes 12, the hour and minute hands exactly line up with each other. Are there other times when this handshake happens? We could say six-thirty, but nope, the hour hand is a little further than the half-hour mark. Not a quarter past three, the hour hand is ahead. Not a quarter to nine, the hour hand is behind. So is it just twelve o’ clock? Are there no other times like this when the hour and minute hands line up perfectly?

If there weren’t any, how could the minute hand cross the hour hand once every hour? The answer, as you might be knowing, is that there are other such times, only they are not so neatly expressible. What are those times?

I have developed a very simple algorithm which I have used to found those times. They are given below, the seconds correct up to two places of decimals (not approximated). Actually, they are recurring decimals. Obviously, since they are in terms of a 12-hour clock, they hold for both AM and PM:

1:05:27.27

2:10:54.54

3:16:21.81

4:21:49.09

5:27:16.36

6:32:43.63

7:38:10.90

8:43:38.18

9:49:05.45

10:54:32.72

12:00:00.00

So there are 11 such ‘handshake hours’. Actually, this means 22 such times over a period of 24 hours.

An important note: don’t take the digits after the decimal place in the seconds very seriously — not because they are wrong, but because this whole concept of the hands meeting is associated with an analogue clock, not a digital one. And I think the smallest movement possible for the second hand in an analogue clock is shifting by an entire second, not any fraction of it. So that analogue clocks can never show such fractional times. A clock can never exist in such a state Those decimal places have come about because the algorithm assumed the motion of all hands to be continuous, not discrete. That is, it assumed that the clock’s state can be all intermediate times. Those decimal places do show in digital watches, but in digital watches there are no hands to line up. You can, of course, round up those times to the nearest integer in seconds. You can test these times now with an analogue clock you may have lying around. You don’t have to go all the way to fixing the seconds, though. (I don’t think the second hand can be moved anyway.)

I cannot give you the algorithm right now because it involves mathematical type and it’s going to be a hell of a work for me to get that laid out and uploaded as images and all. However, if you’re interested, why don’t you try finding it out yourself? It’s not very hard.

1Life.

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Thoughts

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 07:43:23 GMT

The only thing that’s missing in this gift of life is an essential ingredient: a constant reminder of how precious it is.

But is life precious only because we are living?

Then I woke up. Suddenly, I was irreversibly awake. And the reality that I saw, I had always known it — deep within the deepest place inside me I had known it to be true. Yet the realization was shattering, perhaps because of the very fact that I had buried this knowledge so deep.

Prizes, Achievements, Accolades, Recognition.

darkness, memories, ashes, dust.

This is what humans are all about: gang up and fight. It goes by different names — patriotism, team spirit… Give yourself the illusion that there is somewhere a goodness in this effort, and you can go right ahead. Band music can play along.

1Life.

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What I think of academic talk

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 07:46:12 GMT

Suppose we have a system (A) of linear equations.

Suppose it defines all possible orientations of a particular magnetic field in space, under certain conditions.

Suppose some of these orientations satisfy a second set (B) of linear equations, where n(B) ≤ n(A).

Suppose we take the two systems A and B and the magnetic field and reduce the three entities by way of a ²/₃ dimensional conversion to obtain 2 entities which may be systems or physical phenomena.

Suppose we take these 2 mathematical and/or physical entities, clearly define the point of discontinuity between them with the help of a set of unrestricted operation (gapping) rules, hence obtain 2 disjoint entities, reduce their dimensions to about 4π (sq. cm.) X 10 (cm.) right-circular cylinders, and stick them up your nose.

That’s what I think of academic talk.

1Life.

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Sometimes

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 07:43:51 GMT

Sometimes it’s really hard to believe

That I was born with an eagle’s wings

Sometimes it doesn’t seem like I can fly

When I stumble over trifle things

1Life.

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The Face

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 06:44:11 GMT

There is this face cream for acne that sis uses. There's a picture of a girl with that satin type of skin on the cream:

This picture is also on the paper box this thing was in. Now, there's this another thing that she uses to darken her eyelashes. It's a curious little pencil type of thing, only very thin and brittle (I know, because I've already broken one of hers). Maybe they call it an eyeliner, or mascara, or whatever. Anyway, it's very sticky and you can use it on any type of surface. Only thing is, it's meant to come off easily.

So there's a girl's face looking pretty on the paper box, and there's this tool. And there's me. If you call these three x, y and z, then after about ten minutes, x + y + z gives:

Someday I can open my own make-up salon.

1Life.

Blog list: Blog list

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 11:39:48 GMT

Lyss
Piklu Dada
Chetan (Life is like that)
Lily_Yeah
Mine (Nicksplat)
Flashes of light
Depth laid open
® Blue Flashing Light
May cause brain damage. Handle carefully.
Abode of Horus
Drifting in space
darkspace
He writes a lot, man.
dreamcatchers
"All that you wanted to know and tell about dreams."
dreamzunlimited
"All that you wanted to know and tell about dreams."
Tejal's own nook
Searching for God
Mirror to my beliefs.
The Blue Whale in a Box
Your one-stop shop for wit, humour and sarcasm.
What we live for...
Philosophical insights. What more is left to say?
What's Your Story?
The official directory to the best MSN spaces.
Chris Jara - Knee deep in things to do
DJ's Blog
Good friend of mine. Likes Shakespeare, Victorian stuff, hard words.
The Z-Particle Talks
Rik's blog. He's a tremendous writer. Worth a visit.

Custom List: StumbleUpon Picks

Wed, 28 May 2008 11:07:29 GMT

StumbleUpon Picks

See all my favourites
See all my favourite webpages on my StumbleUpon profile.
Industrious Clock
Shows you the time on your computer through a nifty flash presentation where a hand tirelessly scribbles away the changing time. Also check out yugop.com for equally astonishing stuff.
John Conway's Game of Life
A grid, four very simple rules, and you see life emerge.