Perceptions

Perceptions, in the most general cases, are the interpolated nets of thoughts dependent on the state of the surrounding and oneself. If an analogy is drawn from the frequency domain transformations, it would turn out that this signal from the neurons termed as perceptions  is actually a variable band pass filter.


As in the case of this filter, a selected band of high frequencies is allowed to pass and that reflects at the output. Similar is the case here- we tend to be in the state (physical one obviously) that corresponds to a particular set of thoughts at that instant of time or time in the past due to which our interpretation of events presently tends to change. And this change is the very reason for it to be termed as variable band pass filter. It could well have been defined as variable band stop, or band reject or low pass filter. Then what may be the reason that band pass was allowed an upper hand? Well.....it is again my perception that the word 'pass' creates a sense of positiveness while the others subscribe to some extent (if not wholly!) anti-positiveness. More thoughts on the usage of the word 'high'- human brain is empowered and prized enough as the best processor with its speed of thoughts unheard or unexplored of in the world of gizmos. So any linkages with low pass (low frequency but pass) would certainly dent the image of our mighty brain.


If the environment is against someone, she may tend to perceive that even the closest of her aides, the confidants are on the other side of the army. This perception has the bigger chances to stand in her mind w.r.t. the others; the situation would really be different if the environment is clear, helping and conducive for support- this very negative thought would then have the smaller of the chances to occur in her mind. So the conclusion that may be drawn is that perception is the product of environmental situation and one's position with respect to that situation. The product is healthy and prospering; only  if all is positive. But eyes shall be wide open to assess environmental challenges, changes, camouflages specially when we are on the healthy side but the environment is not.




Written on 24.07.2010

Bharat Baazaar

The days in the Indian Political Market are buzzing with comments of intense absurdity and miniscule billings. Attaching any importance to quotes of ministers or spokespersons would be like walking on the waters, hot water indeed. Aam junta weighs all the politicians on the same scale and hardly a difference exists between two such personalities except the parties to which they owe their allegiance (or loyalty, which is much in vague) in the political arena. Much malice and mud slinging is the order of the day.

Very recently (24th May 2012), our then Environment minister, Mr. Jairam Ramesh (alumnus, IIT Bombay, Chemical Engg, 1975 batch) usurped vehemently that IITs and IIMs are not world class institutions but rather the students getting admitted (or the ones who are passing out of it!!) into it are. This raised a furore and a flurry of ugly scenes on the television channels with defending and rival advocates out in the open to settle all scores- all by the functions of the mouth and none through actions (or statistics). Though statistics may sound bitter- and their veracity: at times questionable, but they do account and they cannot be outrightly rejected or tagged rubbish.

Tomorrow, the big HAND of Congress- the sankatmochan* - Mr. Pranab Mukherjee will file his nomination for the post of the President of this sovereign nation. He has been at the helm of a lot of scariest situations but none more acrimonious than this one. A sinecure post-  yet it has been able to arrest the momentum from equally competent topics like inflation, scams, etc. in a way as to make the others a mere laughing stock. Few questions that rake up my mostly unused brain are:

• Was clearing Mr. Mukherjee not going to hamper the election preparations of Congress in 2014?
• Why a seasoned leader (having seen 40 rains) would vouch for presidentship when his capabilities would be better utilized as a minister in yet another powerful portfolio.
• Is this to project the miserably insecure Mr.Gandhi as the candidate at the helm?
• Are the other factions in Congress more powerful than that of Pranab Babu and they have been successful in carrying out their procedure?
• Was it to alienate Ms. Mum Ta Banner Jee (who knows- if writing her name would bring me bad fortunes, enough to land me in jail or send some goons to my place, or so on!!) from Pranab Da who might have provided the economic stimulus package she was looking forward to. Was he this strong??
• How the name of an incumbent PM can be floated/tipped for the post of President? And that too by an ally who are just an anthill. They constitute a mere 4% votes in the Presidential election's say !! Their chauvinism has been rightly nipped in the bud. One like from me..
• How the equations turn amorous between bête noires (as they say that there are no permanent foes and friends in politics)? Hands are needed after all to balance the cycles!! 
• A number of scams- enough to make all the population lakhpatis** - suddenly breath life trapped under the debris of unenthusiastic breaking news.

A lot of similar other unnecessary, unwanted questions try to peep the world- outside the cool abode of my brain- but I don't find answers to satiate them the least.

Who has the answers??

* Sankatmochan : Refers to God Hanuman and roughly translates to one who relieves someone from problems (akin to Bruce Willis of Die Hard fame).
** lakhpatis : One who has 100,000 rupees.

Long Live The Girls

Being an Indian, lets begin with India. She is unfathomable to the extent that it requires a Sorcerer's ball to unfold the mysterious twists and turns it offers to the observers gasping in awe. Few countries (other than the sub continent ones) would vie for the most eclectic and eccentric practices followed with such gusto- least being imaginable- for the acts are inhumanely ghastly and grotesque in nature.


Who in the world would commit a murder of their own offspring- not once or twice but till its born with a stick to poke around.

Over the years this crime of selective de-pregnation has maimed the unborn voices of hundreds of thousands across this so-venerated a land of one of the most ancient civilizations. The inflated/deflated Governmental databases throw a sorry figure and it pinches more when they declare with camouflaged apathy: a falling ratio in the last two decades- does it sets the alarm bells ringing!!!! Well, if no- here comes a true conversational epoch that took place not very long ago.

There was a conversation between two friends regarding marriage- not a debate but on the highs and lows of  arranged marriage (a practised custom in India where marital bells jingle by the most active participation of the parents/relatives rather than the gentleman and the lady).  Points of discussion were:

• A lot of investigations must be made prior to in order to unearth hidden skeletons in the closet, if any, by both the sides.
• Understanding each other (including the ifs and buts) as well as the families.
• Lots of selections at hand to choose from (applicable to both sides). Here the ratio is skewed in an altogether different manner.
• Unnecessary expenses at every nodal point of progress.
• Finally, the biggest risk-ful adventure(mis-) of one's life (Still marriage is regarded as the union of social values; though the number of divorce cases are on the rise, somehow the adjustments and reconciliations play a much bigger role and the social fabric remains intact- a big joke where womanhood suffers on a daily basis in a cruel way).

One of the friends was a genuine stickler of brains, brawn(in sports), humility and more such qualities of desire. The other was a romantic of nature.  These two guys and a host of their other friends considered studies as the biggest challenge- though other challenges did exist in the form of sports, adda sessions (the state of West Bengal is popular for gossip sessions over tea, biscuits and other such local delicacies), friendship (minus girls in most of the cases) and booze as well in some (lets agree on more) cases. While some of their other friends who diligently broke into the other part of the friendship (plus girls in most of the cases) did manage to hold the hands of the fairer sex and enjoyed a part of life which these poor fellows missed and would never be able to turn the time for a chance come whatever. The issues that pop their heads out could be summarized as:

1. Did they not manage to hold hands because of their (mis)adventurous lifestyle?
2. The custom of having a girlfriend(s) was still in its nascent stage!
3. There were few good-looking girls in their circle of reach/observation/expectancy!
4. There were not enough girls to cope up with the demand (it is purely a demand-supply mismatch statement and not a rhetoric at all, no need for the pro-woman groups to batter me for this statement!!).

Somehow, all the factors do manage to garner a swish of vote against their notions but primarily it's the paucity of girls ( good-looking is a vague concept that I reject uprightly: Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder- courtesy Mr.John Keats). Sins committed by our previous generations have yielded forms so thick and fast- where do our sins would take the coming generation (if any)???? 

We all- specially the government- are on the big watch out for tigers, trees and other such hotly contested extincting beings (or things- considering the way they are used!!) but we do care least about "if girls become extinct species"- ohh!!! my neurons would not support channelizing this thought process to others for the fear of fatal hormonal imbalance......

Let us make this country a one-for-all. For every boy there shall be a girl-  1:1.

Long live the girls.............

[N.B.: The brainy friend confessed that though studies are the biggest pushers in life, one should not neglect the godly creations- must admire it to the core when it is proper to do, as I put it in again time can't be brought back.

One of the characters is my dear friend Animesh.]

Wh..

Who else?
None!!

What next?
One!!

What more?
Love!!

What for?
Life!!

Sugar And Salt

Everything is simple if we reduce them to fundamentals. This apt quotation materializes only at the hands of those who allow simplicity to perch at their sills. We are all too complexed by the infringement of materialistic flavour deep into our lives. A speck of introspection would reveal where we introduced unwanted adulteration, yet we never allow ourselves to stabilise.


The basis of stability has been disoriented to an extent beyond redemption. It, while representing only the riches never accounts for happiness through the channels of satisfaction. The mind, thought and body work in tandem and it is only when they are in sync do we truly and fundamentally rise towards inner solace and attain virtue. We are in a phase of constant struggle to liberate ourselves, to manifest the truth that we are, to elevate and realise the soul inside us. But in an age of acute distraction and pleasure forging derivatives- we loyally misplace ourselves.

The most fundamental aspect is we must live to enjoy the beauty that life is. A repentance is the defeat, an act of destruction and betrayal and subjugated is our spent life. Its marginalized.


A small story would clear the fettered emotions. A close acquaintance of mine stays near Dumdum in Kolkata and I went to her apartment once - a bright and airy one- on the 3rd floor. The day was unbearably cruel from the discomfortability factors' perspective- hot, humid and silent- without a trace of air. Climbing three floors and if bestowed with no electricity would have been the last nail on the coffin. Luckily, the coffins were no where near that day. In the meantime came the cooking gas delivery man and promptly completed his assignment. Being humane, the lady of the apartment offered him a cold refreshing glass of rasna with ice cubes floating at the behest of Archimedes- definitely a good proposition considering the effort of the nature to corner its perpetrators. But the delivery man's sense of control over his senses puzzled me. He never for a moment seemed to be oversubscribed with joy for being offered- he requested just plain water with a spoonful of sugar and a pinch of salt- and politely turned down the lucrative.

Many a inferences we can draw. To me its more like having knowledge of your desires and its interference with inner soul. Let us kindle our buried withins and pose a few thoughtful questions:

i) Do we need all the wealth we are channelizing (my friends! wealth is a man-made concoction that fizzles at the mere blink of nature)?


ii) Of what use is travelling throughout the world when we are yet to traverse within us!


iii) Where shall we head towards or allow our actions to roam about for stability?

Time Has A Story To Tell

The children of God were playing in the fields,
When they saw through he clouds-
The ever advancing human beings.

The earth was moving at a lowly pace.
The ages were lined up from stone to machine-made.
The geography was turning lakes into plains,
The plains invoked mountains onto their planes.
Oxygen was made aplenty for no cost at all,
Three-quarters water was not sufficient for all?
The remnants were ground for species to share,
Flora and fauna to accommodate with living sphere.

Men knew nothing but were satisfied.
Then came fire to break this ice.
No more individuals but there were groups,
The fight for survival began in the books.
The hunters and hunted were in close quarters,
Whoever got the chance cleared up the platter.
That was the first love for self and family,
Which is still sustaining but breaking else severely.

The quest began with wheels and carts,
Slowly the mighty oceans were conquered with elan.
The air didn't survive the Wrights when flights
Set the tone of human chime one note bright.
Discoveries and their owners unearthed the secret pillars,
Rockets were propelled seeking entry into lunars.
Even the Red Dwarf was not left to call its shots,
The surface was penetrated with Rovers of all sorts.

After all these milestones, is there any love lost?
Thought the children adoring the earth's bust.
Why one is fighting the battles all over,
When there is need to harvest harmony over another.
Men are pitched against own families,
But ask them the reason, they'll have no alleys!
Are their grey cells not enjoying the ride?
Is that a reason that they're paying the price.

The first differences were to seize the power,
Second in the queue were land and water.
Finally came money,- the root of all evils,
Drifting apart the society, unbridging the heals.
The classes came to speak of rich and poor,
Touchstones were forced onto humans as measures.
Texture and complexion came to identify fates,
Drugged were those to the ground with little shades.

Coffers were shining with hues of all beams,
Upon lay the claims of all living beings.
But all was cornered, not a single leftover,
Was there that could- bring ounce of happiness.!
It was an anomaly like the mounts and valleys,
Could that ever be climber- thought the kids!
Love is. It can't be eclipsed rather unceremoniously,
How to re-institute the fading glorious gallery?

When men were born, no religion came,
Now all the glitterati is bearing its name.
All is getting pieced to maintain its fame,
Did a religion ever uttered, the depth of this bane?
Bows, arrows, spears, guns and battleships,
Swearing by its call, rearing to raze hills.
But never was devised, to sway love around,
Mercenaries would have capitulated to their grounds.

Men eat all that is grown beside their hut.
Men pray almighty never seen among us.
Men give life to men with their blood.
Men built homes never asking who'll dwell those.
Then how did the words of a few spell the charm?
Men's thirst accentuated for blood with new arms.
Children were shocked discovering these buries!
Shall more men be produced to resolve these queries?

....To be continued

No Strings Attached

Few people except the residents and businessmen may be aware of a place on the landscape of West Bengal called Haldia. It is a serene (or shall I say was!!) beautiful city on the banks of river- Haldi and has provided enough fodder- being a port city- towards the growth of the biggest industries in and around it. Then came the sharks to tap the educational potential (that the place was supposed to offer; being away from the City Pent) and behold; an engineering institute came up by the name Haldia Institute of Technology.

Like a chain reaction- it propelled small but sufficient and family-like shops to mushroom around it; each specializing in tea, omelette, maggi (bhaja maggi v1.0), parothas, etc., the staple diet of engineers.

I had left my job in September 2009 and was preparing for GATE ( graduate level examination for admission into PG programmes) while staying at my professor Dr. P.R.Purkait's residence in the college campus. I was a student of the institute from 2003 to 2007.

There was one such shop that bobbled very recently and to my greatest surprise it was selling "litti"- a kind of spherical or circular flour cakes filled with fried gram flour along with a host of spices, ginger, garlic, etc. and cooked either deep fried or over heated charcoal. This litti has its ardent base in the states of Bihar and UP. It is usually served with "chutney" (made up of fresh coriander leaves grinded with a pounder against a stone slab) or "chokha" (made from roasted brinjal/ potato/ tomato- all mashed together with a tinge of mustard oil, green chillies and salt to taste.

Now my college- in the vicinity of Bengal and away from the pompous and grand Kolkata (by a margin of 120 kms.)- did have a substantial population from those northern neighbors- and accordingly business acumen prevailed over simplicity. It was a kind of daily affair to have litti-chokha-chutney in the evening and tea to complement and savour the spicy taste. Moreover the taste of the above delicacies tend to reach pinnacle if its monsoon and rain gods have their supplies uninterrupted on a plain lucky day.

Most of the shop owners employed children from the nearby villages or children from their extended families so as not to create dependencies. In that litti shop worked an effervescent and garrulous kid named Bhola-ageing around 7 years. Bhola is the name of Lord Shiva and it also means simple. And he was the center of attraction and we used to pull his leg on the least of pretexts. But he took these in the best of the spirits and amused us beyond anger, surprise; and a healthy dose of entertainment was lined up in the evenings. 

A recent study carried out by eminent scholars concluded that any two unknown persons in this world would be somehow connected by the seventh node i.e. one person would be related to another by a chain of other seven persons. On this note and out of curiosity and general inquisitiveness, I thought of knowing more about that little kid, so I placed a nugget, Who else is there in your family? And his stark reply swept me by surprise; more so as I never expected it to be so choking and full of a sense of lost childhood and brimming pathos (which that kid might not be fully aware of!!). 

And his reply to who else is there in his family was Aamar keu nai!! (Nobody is there in my family).

Written on 24th May 2011.

An Empty Bottle

The brain of a child grows at a rapid pace to process myriad information- keeping in mind the newer explorations encountered in day-to-day life. The pursuant nature of a child tries best to decode plethora of first -time knowledge, save the data and retrieve it later as an information. While all these management procedures keep churning tons of data, a silent mind is engaged so as to act such that appreciation follows from the near and dear ones- and this involves adventures of selfless values- for a little smile on the face of the parents, for a heartfelt hug from a brother, for a pound of love from a sister. These feelings cannot be harbored superficially- they have their origin in the tranquil unadulterated corners of the auspicious brain- called the heart. I don't see them as two entities- rather it's their jamming effort that leads to the event called thinking.

It was one such event that led triggered this story to see the light of the day. While four of us 'friends' were happily ambling over the road for an evening snacks, we discovered a girl- little enough not to carry heavy weight- carrying discarded items (or may throw-away items); a comb with protruding teeth like that of an old man, a slice of a mirror with sharp protruding edges like that of life- a little misjudgment and a deep cut worth lifetime of memory, some torn books like dreams of a poor- with pages but unordered and disconnected, a pen without a cap but with little fountain of ink left- enough to propel the dreams for a constructive travel ahead, a few caps of soft drinks bottles- like the courage to prevent the aerated soda to flip, a glass with meandering edges like the mountains and volleys- none can keep you at the bottom for a lifetime.

With much effort she was trying her best to keep the paraphernalia from falling from her gracious clutch. She may be around 4-5 years old, wearing a purplish frock that seemed to have outlived its expiry, multicolored sandals belonging to two different sets adorned her motherly little feet, a pair of eyes like that of an archaeologist set to unearth some heritage monument, ruffled hairs from where the setting sun was bidding a charismatic good-bye.

She was just unaware of anybody's presence around her and was walking with the slowest of strides lest her findings may once again have to be arranged and that might break this composure and the rhythm of this pleasant walk down the road. She was some hundred feet away from us when all of a sudden- she put down her valuables by the side of the road and picked up an empty bottle- looked  very closely from all sides and somehow her face gestured that it brought more of an accomplishment than the rest of her findings.

In the meantime we were about to pass by her and I could not resist myself from asking her, "What would you do with this?". And I just could hold back my tears to what she replied. "This is what my baba (father) drinks daily.". It was a empty bottle of rum.

A child who has hardly seen anything beyond her village and nearby was so satisfied on discovering an empty bottle that her father brings daily. It was a feeling that never knew how to distinct- a shudhha (pure) and satwik (virtuous) ātmā's (soul's) outbursts- this feeling moves and surges ahead with the fuel called care and love.

Written on 23rd May 2011.

The Guava Crow

Just behind my window is a very old guava tree- much more than my age of three cube. My first memory association with it- and even then it was bearing all-year round guavas. The canopy that it is above my home is an affable attraction for a variety of local birds, a family of squirrel and a murder of crows. And of-late a dumb crow.

The crows are not fond of guavas as far as my knowledge informs. The congregation is a shelter to these living creatures- a home from the sultry and scorching wave of summers.

The crow is physically challenged in our parlance. It is unable to speak like the other crows. Yet it has never let that doom to take precedence and unceremoniously glorify its life. Nor do the other crows have established rules to bog it down for its inability to express itself in their words. Interestingly, the other crows (identified only when they crow-crow) share an identifiable bonhomie and a sense of care and fraternal maturity towards the dumb crow. In fact, it is I who is distinguishing between them; they may not be aware of terminologies as such physically challenged, dumb, etc.They may be accepting it the other way round - 'that crow speaks seldom and in a different tone altogether. And that may be reason enough for their gatherings on the guava tree around the dumb crow at different times of the day.

While the other crows unanimously crow saying either kaanv-kaanv or kaa-kaa or a variety of other k-type expressions, the dumb crow specializes in uttering the smallest k's like k-k-k-k... At times I have seen them sharing their meals with this crow. But crows are reputed scavengers and this a statement hard to fathom!! Is it because they are non-human? Or is it because they are humane to some degree? Or is it because their books don't preach differentiation but integration? The crows are predators of minuscule nature and take great pride in social development.

On the other hand, we as the species of biggest evolutionary cycle are holing up our values, ethics and humanity for scalene means. In an oasis of complex developments on all grounds, men still owe a lot to the animals. With changing environment and biology, paucity and surplus- animals have adapted a lot and have kept the social fabric intact as well. Alas! we evolved the most but inculcated dreary and hollow ideals to quench the materialistic thirst - forgetting the purpose of sustainable life in the round marathon.

The crows still assimilate and share stories of courage and patience- after all they've the tacit listener in the guava crow for them.

Written on 24th May 2011.

Decoded...Not Yet

In today’s technologically progressive world, human feelings have been relegated to the brink of humiliation. Now the so-called social life breathes only in the virtual world of Facebooks, Twitters, Orkuts (my sincerest obituaries) and so on. Real people are nowadays found only in the cobwebs of virtual constituencies from where all the phases of fast-paced life are made public without the incursion of RTI on their lives. Quite shocking and disturbing, especially when we hear on a regular basis that defamation suits are filed more often than appreciating messages.

But the more intriguing question that lurks is- why are we cutting the real connections and unnecessarily procuring ourselves to others unasked for, while shunting the real fabric of attachment and letting it die a silent death- mocking it with a tinge of embarrassment.

Only the other day did I find that I turned a year older and some 70 odd Facebookers walled me on this monumental achievement; and believe me I was least impressed. I had no real connections with at least 60% of them, haven’t spoken with the rest 30% for almost 5 years, and the filtered ones numbering around 6-7 do share a bond of coupling- shall I pronounce strong enough and tested for tenacity over the span of time- but even a notable number of them preferred to limit themselves to walling me- an ode to Facebook on curbing the sensibilities of mind and heart- without it being imposed on them.

Agree that out of those 6-7, few might not be having the privilege of owning my exclusive ‘mobile number ‘- at least the remaining 2-3 must be free from that- and when I say least let us agree on ‘1’- who shall have all the reason to touch me by sound waves- even there Facebook lured away. What bait does it offer in turn? It must be their secret recipe behind this unassuming feat- changing the course of attachment with its magical chords.

Written on 23rd May 2011.