Posts tagged felt

drained

Aug 3rd

I feel drained.

There’s the deadline. The extension to the deadline. The paper. The second paper. The paper you are writing in parallel to the other two. Other people’s papers. Other people’s papers that you are trying to beat to the punch. Old papers that you want to get a handle on, but seem like you never will have the time to. Future papers that are pending. Papers that are pending, but appear dead. Trying to revive dead papers.

The experiment. The results. The meaning of experiment and the experiment’s results. Follow-up experiments. Comprehensive validation experiments for the results. The code that underlies it all. Waiting on that code to run. Making that code faster. New experiments. Novel extensions to the experiments. Writing, summarizing and explaining the experiments. The theory of the experiment. Writing the paper about the experiments. Rewriting. Proof-reading. Going through 10 drafts of the same paper until you are sick of it.

Then there’s the lab. The small bits and pieces of mundane lab life that you involve yourself in. Maintaining things within the lab that at some point you became responsible for. Remembering tiny nuggets of related information that somehow only you became privy to. Retaining and producing them at the opportune moment.

At some point, you go back home.

You bask in not having to think of things such as papers and experiments. (thanks.. of course.. to a certain Mrs., who is awesome)

(Unless there’s a deadline. In which case, that’s all you think about)

Then you remember all the other things you have to remember.

At some point, the random thought about whether there is a point in the day when you will not look at a screen of some kind. They seem to be everywhere. The computer. The TV. The PSP. The phone. The laptop. Then you shrug and decide you have to live with such wonderings in the world you are in.

Then you try to keep up with what is happening in the world around. In different spheres of the world around you. In your own personal world. In your interests.

Then you go to bed. Planning what to do the next day. Trying to note down things you remember you have not done that day.

You try to get up the next day, full of zest and life, completely not drained at all.

Such is life.

And I really want to do this for the rest of mine.

Didn’t see that coming.

felt, mood, out of it, phd

sibling rivalry

Jun 22nd

Posted by SEV in staying.thoughts

8 comments

Purple or orange? Orange or purple?

She looked from one to the other. And back. Then back again.

Someone moved in the far corner, and she whipped around to see what had happened. There was a movement in front of her which she felt, rather than sensed, and she reached out blindly. While turning back to the choice at hand.

The decision had been made for her: she was left with only purple now. Where was the orange?

*******************

“Ammmmaaaaaaaa! Ammmmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaa….”

Yes, that was me. Yes, I was whining.

My little sister was bullying me. She wanted my Superman. Actually, she had taken my Superman.

And given my parents absolute lack of concern about my Superman, it didn’t seem like I was getting it back.

*******************

She wanted the orange water-bottle. This purple one was clearly substandard. The cap had come off when she had pulled at it to open. Her elder sister appeared to have an invulnerable bottle. Plus it was orange. Orange was awesome. She looked around, her parents only seemed concerned that she not fall off the table. She had to make them see the point. She pointed at the orange bottle. No reaction. Split-seconds later, she started crying. Out loud. Pointing. And crying. Immediate reactions.

Except her elder sister. Who seemed perfectly content to watch TV while drinking. Out of that awesome orange water-bottle.

“Oh she wants your bottle, P___. Just give it to her. Its ok. See this purple one? Just as good.”

No effect on the older sister.

“She’s a baby, P___. You are older. Give it to her, na. When Daddy says something you’re supposed to obey, right?”

Read On… »

*******************

“Mom, she’s breaking my Superman!”

I was explained to that I was an older brother now. I had to share with my little sister. Plus, she was a little kid. How could she break things? Just watch over her. My mother had to get back to the kitchen, the rasam would boil too much otherwise. In the meanwhile, I should be a good boy and make sure that my sister didn’t get hurt while playing. In fact, if I played with her, I could play with my Superman too.

And so I sat with her and tried to explain how Superman could be made to fly. With his arms upright. Which was taken as an indicator that he should be rattled around while being held by one of those upright hands. Or his cape.

My poor Superman. That cape bit had to hurt. I winced in sympathy.

*******************

The older sister, now orange-bottle-less, sat patiently with the purple bottle that had been cast away. The cap hinge had come apart. She kept trying to get it back in place.. so far no luck.

The orange bottle, in the meanwhile, was happily being sucked out of by our erstwhile heroine. Somehow the water tasted sweeter. She gestured towards her parents with the bottle, receiving indulgent smiles in return. A wide, gap-toothed smile in return from her. And she went back to drinking.

Ah, life.

She glanced at her older sister. Who had managed to put the purple bottle back together. Hmm.. it didn’t look so bad after all. But then..

*******************

I had had the best plan in the world.

It had been to to make Superman fly really far away and really high into another room… only to have him come crashing all the way back to my sister due to interference by my mother. My sister didn’t quite like the idea that he was so far away from her.

Plan B. I attempted to barter Superman for my WWE wrestler action figure. It was proving a hard-sell. She wasn’t interested. Muscles and pose be damned.

*******************

The orange bottle was somewhat empty. That purple one appeared full, the one her sister had been drinking out of. Now it was right there on the table. She idly tossed the orange bottle one way, and reached out for the purple. Crawling. She had it!

Her older sister absently reached back for the bottle… and found it gone.

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”

*******************

sibling rivalry I watched the mother put the orange bottle away, while the father swung the yelling baby off the table. The older sister sat content with the purple bottle, which she now shook tauntingly at the baby who was looking back while being carried away. Fresh sobs and yells. Exasperated admonishment from the mother: “P___, don’t! I’ll take that one away too!”

I smiled at the mother when she looked at me with a half-smile of exasperation, realizing that I had been privy to the drama. “I never won battles with my younger sister either.”, I said, as I left.

My younger sister always did get to keep my Superman. Until she pulled his arm off, after which he was discarded thoughtlessly. I never did manage to fix him, or restore him to his former double-handed flying glory.

War causes the most destruction to those most innocent, after all

True story.

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felt, memories

sachinism, the current religion of the indi-net

Feb 24th

Posted by SEV in staying.thoughts

3 comments

Stuff that struck me while reading about Sachin Tendulkar’s nearly unbelievable* feat, most of which will be repeated everywhere I look over the next few days/weeks:

On this day 21 years ago He completed a 664-run partnership with Kambli. Twenty-f*ckin-one.
His 200 contained 25 boundaries (the most by a single batsman in an ODI till date) and 3 sixes. The entire RSA team innings (in reply) had 30 boundaries and 3 sixes.
He has scored 93 international centuries (combining test and ODI cricket) until today. There was a time when He decimated an Australian team for a whole summer (yes, the great Sharjah innings), which was when I started believing that He would score over a 100 centuries before He retired. That day is nigh.
His closest competitors today (in terms of statistics) have to currently make
- Tests: 1588 runs to catch up His total of 13447, 8 centuries to catch up His total of 47.
- ODIs: 4170 runs to catch up with 17598, 17 centuries to catch up with 46.

He made an impeccable, near-perfect 175 while chasing Australia in Hyderabad last year.. only to have the Indian team let Him down and choke once He was out. I remember defending him when people said that the innings was typical Tendulkar – the century was great, but no use if He never finishes what He starts. I wonder if.. somehow.. RSA had successfully chased 400 (they’ve done it before), how sweet would this 200 be for the ungrateful Indian cricket fan?
The fact that He does not make the ICC list of the best players of all-time in either Tests or ODIs has to now rank as one of the biggest egg-on-your-face (or idiotic) statements until date for the ICC. For a man who is redefining every batting record there is every time He takes guard, a man who has surpassed His contemporaries in both longevity and performance… I guess He doesn’t need the ranking to make His mark in cricket history.

I ask you, does He really have to worry about never lifting a World Cup on India’s behalf? Can we quit wondering aloud about His performance every time He doesn’t make a century?

Will we ever get over Him?

Side note: I noticed that the statistically top batsmen who are still playing cricket today are all 34+ (age in brackets): Jayasuriya (40), Ponting (35), Tendulkar (37), Gibbs (36), Kallis (34). This is to be expected, given the amount of cricket these people have played in their lifetime… but it appears the old guard is never going to make way for a new one.

*I say “nearly unbelievable”, because it is Sachin after all. One can believe that He can pull it off.**
**Yes, the capitalization of ‘H’ is intentional. God, after all.

cricket, felt, genius, india, trivia

my event of a lifetime

Feb 8th

Posted by SEV in staying.in.my.head

22 comments

It’s been too, too long.

Wish I had a good excuse.

Maybe this one: “Marriage does that to you.” Or even: “Things change like this after marriage.”

At the very least, marriage gives you a scapegoat that most married men will commiserate with. “Yes, yes.. I know what you mean.” Its either commiseration or a devilish satisfaction (as I saw on more than one recently married face that was turned to greet me). “Yes, yes… now you shall know what I mean! Muahahahahaha!”

I have enough things to write about that I might be able to post more often. However, the future looms close with promise of having to wait on the Mrs hand-and-foot.. so no promises.

Read On… »

To begin at the beginning… so much has happened that I can, at best, barely give a glimpse of the highlights as they remain with me only three weeks later. There was the preparation I had to undergo, such as going to a beauty parlor for a facial, manicure, pedicure and a haircut. (Quit laughing, you.) Its all required regulations. Have to look pretty on the day. Even if no-one ever pays attention to the groom (the video has proof of how much clamoring I had to do to get people to notice me enter). A certain amount of respect has welled for women who undergo such processes on a regular basis (along with waxing and tweezing) as the Mrs has helpfully reminded me.
More frustrating for me was not being allowed to go out. ‘House arrest’ about sums it up. They gave me some cock-and-bull story about it not being good, and took some names and so on.. but I complied. To an extent, it paid off as it meant I got to glory in the attention of the amazing number of relatives who hung around for the whole event. Until, of course, they were each called away on various other tasks they had to finish so that I could get married.
The greatest beauty by far, was the smooth syncing between everyone around. Things just happened as they should on the day. Yes, everyone involved had been planning for months in advance and so on.. and I had to live with being the guy who gets to enjoy it all happening for his sake.. but still. There is a certain beauty to see people turn up out of nowhere to get the job done. Accommodation, food, transport, luggage.. a virtual well-oiled machine cannot be a better description. Even before I could think, “What about this?”, it was already being prepared for and underway. I only wish I could appreciate such people more.

The actual event is a near-blur. Some stand out moments include the ‘kaashi yatrai‘ , the ‘thirumangalya dharanam‘ and the ‘saptapathi‘ (decent precis of everything in a Tam Bram wedding here). In the ‘kaashi yatrai‘, I finally felt like a groom. The vadhyar had done an awesome job of tying my ‘panchakatcham’ – which also has to be the most comfortable male dress ever. I really didn’t want to take it off. Back to the point, at that point it felt as though I was king of the world (I guess in terms of the ritual, I sorta was too — they had to offer me the Mrs. to stop me from walking away )

Tying the knot around her neck (‘thirumangalya dharanam‘) really felt like the culmination of a long, long journey. I could reminisce here about the first time of the many things that make up a relationship, and so on and on… but those are details that shall remain shrouded in the mists of time. The Mrs was looking like a dream at that point – one I won’t forget – the feeling of first taking her hands in mine and then being guided to tie the knot suddenly made me realize the responsibility I was so naturally able to take in my hands. As I attempted to make hazy sense of ancient Sanskrit during the ‘saptapathi‘, (something struck me about the part of only holding hands with each other until the ‘saptapathi‘ was completed), so many thoughts, feelings and words were jumbling up inside me… its hard to elucidate. There was elation, there was some part of me that wanted to yell out to each one present what I was doing… there was also some vague realization of how there were so many people there – all so happy to see me (and her) go to this next phase of our lives… there were memories of days past, there were flashes of what might happen in days to come.

Right. Back to the more warmly sarcastic tone of this blog.

Or the gloating one in which I tell you that I spent my birthday in conjunction with my honeymoon.

Most. Awesome. Birthday. Ever

‘Nuff said.

More generic India observations next time.

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back, felt, india, mood, realization, wedding

i just got married

Jan 17th

Posted by SEV in staying.in.my.head

7 comments

Need I say more?

I can’t quite believe it myself.

Read On… »

felt, nothing to say, wedding

my big event of the year is nearly here

Jan 8th

Posted by SEV in staying.in.my.head

7 comments

The time has come.

Back to India.

Madness. All centered around me. And the missus. But me too!

There will probably be no posts for a bit here. I’m not live-blogging my own wedding, or even live-tweeting my honeymoon

Speaking of which, that is probably going to be the best birthday ever

It has taken its time to sink in, people have been asking me ‘How do you feel about you getting married?’ for weeks now.. and I haven’t really had an answer. Half the “wedding feeling” is in the atmosphere around you. Yes, I have great friends and a great missus who are all insanely excited about what is going to happen… but its not quite the same, is it? Having 20 billion people around you (or at least what feels like 20 billion people) all abuzz, all running around, ragging, laughing, managing, noise, shouting – this is what really makes that feeling really hit you.

A little bit of that feeling is striking me now. I’m not sure if it is my usual trip-anticipation jitters, but it does feel different somehow. Feels like a lot of preparation is coming together at long last. A big huge deal is about to happen, and I’m right in the center of it all. I want to hug myself and hold onto all the anticipation, save it for the big day.

The missus becomes more than just fiancée. She already is, but will now more officially be an SWMBO. I wonder how much she will like me as her PWOM (inverse of SWMBO).

I can’t wait.

felt, india, mood, realization