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Dilli Diary

"For all its faults we love this city." - The city of Djinns
The thought of spending a couple weeks in Delhi in mid-April is something most people would dread and yet, I was brimming with excitement and anticipation. To me, it presented an opportunity to break away from the monotonic work culture of Bangalore and to reminisce about the old days with my college wing-mate in the city I  once used to call my second home. Now, while sitting in my return flight to Bangalore,  I am penning down my memoir of this trip to Delhi. 
Heat, Warmth and Hotheads
Summer heat was the first thing I sensed after stepping out of my flight in Delhi. This experience completely wiped out whatever tranquil effect was lingering on from the mesmerising aerial view of the city from my flight- ’ The floating island of lights in the sea of darkness' . I estimated the temperature in Delhi at the moment - validated it using the Accuweather app and registered the fact that Delhi nights were hotter than …
Recent posts

What is earned report? - The First Five

I have been reading aggressively for past one month with an aim of completing 50 books in an year. I have been reading a book per week and have completed 5 books till now.  I think it is a good time to log what I have learnt from these books.

The First Five

The Visuo-spatial Working Memory - AcademicThe Mosaic Principle - Non-FictionA Young Doctor's Note Book - MemoirA Sense of An Ending - FictionFive Dysfunctions of a Team - Non-Fiction 
The Visuo-spatial Working Memory - 3/5 There is a possibility that working memory might be partitioned in visual and verbal.Understanding operating memory can help us in developing products that can reduce cognitive load of the user.Perception is highly flexible. The Mosaic Principle - 2.5/5 Generalists do have a significant part to play in the society driven madly towards specialisation.A T-shaped Model of working depth in one sector and transferrable skills from other sector could be a reasonable model for career growth as a generalist. Generalist …

You still not die?

Biting winds pierce by Ripping my soul into shreds Cold night that muffles me Whispers only of winter ahead.
I dare not hope for a fireplace Nor heat of a rug do I aim I seek that flickering candle-light To help me have some warmth in dream
Battered body, tattered soul Demand only one reply With goals lost and dreams crushed Why, o man, you still not die?

The above poem is merely a rephrasing of Robert Frost's poem A Question with my words and absorption of the core idea. The poem throws light on the immense pain and suffering that accompanies almost everyone's life; then, enquires meaning and worth of such an existence. Here is Robert Frost's original poem which is more lyrical and succinct.
A voice said, look me in the stars, And tell me truly, man of earth, If all the body-and-soul scars Were not too much to pay for birth.

Riding To Day's End

You look at your smartphone screen and try to calculate how much time will the cab driver take to finally reach your location. You acknowledge that, given the traffic in your city, the time you see on your screen may be quite off. You try to estimate whether you can squeeze in the final mail you want to drop before you call it a day. DROP, as if emails are bombs. They probably are. You click on the red compose button and, before the box opens, try to steal another peak. If ever every microsecond mattered, it is now. You start typing and notice how slow you are. You should have taken that touch-typing workshop in the college. Every 30 secs, you try to steal a peek at the dimly lit smartphone screen. You think you can pull it off. You have a mild sense of achievement and a smile sprinkled over your face. You are just there. 
You look back at the smartphone screen. The backlight is now turned off. You struggle to open the screen lock with one hand while typing the last line with another. …

If you wish to do, Dream!

"People's dream don't ever end".   - Marshall D. Teach in OP
I am going to use this post as a confession. A confession of the most heinous crime in the eyes of those who understand the act of living. I, hereby, confess my inability to dream. No, I am not talking about Insomnia. Well, that's another problem for some other day. What I am talking about is something which is intrinsic to someone who is truly alive : Aspirations. Somehow, somewhere in the process of existing I have lost the essence of living. I have lost all desires and yet I am not content. 
Well, I know it might appear as if I am just scribbling words , pouring down nonsensical strings. Therefore, I feel elaborate on everything that that I have mentioned above. I think, I shall let you know what I experienced today in the most comprehensive manner with only limitations being my vocabulary and your imaginations. And this is the only way I help you understand what I feel tonight. 
I was watching a You…

Missing link in dream and reality

"I desire things that will destroy me in the end" -- Sylvia Plath While looking out of my balcony, I can always spot a single star in the sky. Probably with the pollution level in Bangalore , the dim ones are hard to spot. If it was southern sky, I could bet it was Sirius. But I don't know what direction it is in and I am too lazy to make any efforts to find out. Moreover the name of the star does not matter. However, it has a similar symbolic significance for me as green light had Fitzgerald's Gatsby. A dream well conceived , clearly visualised and yet beyond grasp. A dream thoroughly cherished and yet unattained. This brings me to another haunting question. How do people start dreaming whatever they start dreaming about? Frankly, it's Gatsby who comes to rescue. Gatsby's dream incidentally was a outcome of exposure to the girl( I wish I remembered her but I don't even care about finding right now) .   We can't dream of things we cannot envisage. I t…

What Do You Want To Be?: The Diabolical Enquiry

"Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which fits best and is more becoming?"   Sylvia Plath Ontology of the Question
If questions could be ranked for perseverance of haunting, the one above definitely steals the top spot. Logic suggests that jaw-dropping beauties have been asked this question more times than they have been asked for dates. If you are wondering why logic and not data, come on guys do you really think I know enough (read it any)  jaw dropping beauties to ensure sufficient statistical randomness? If you are wondering how logic suggests it you must be really non- imaginative. I could lay down the entire calculations for you but let us just have an overview and move past it. Most parents ask this every year till 25 (If it continues beyond this point, either you didn't leave your parents in time or your parents did not leave you alone with time), believing they are no exceptions they already had enough of this question. Plus, most times, peo…