One fine morn, I was walking through a grassy path when I saw a bright red stone. It impressed me at the first sight. Without a doubt that it was a valuable gem, I picked it up and put it carefully in my pocket. A few days later, I was going through the same path again. This time, I saw a piece of rock lying there. Something told me that I should pick it up and take it with me. I obliged and picked it up, and put it in my pocket, not giving it another thought for weeks. Meanwhile the red stone which I had found earlier had most of my attention. I placed it in the showcase and boasted all about it to friends, neighbors and anyone who cared to listen. All this time, the little piece of rock sat in a corner in my cupboard, confined to the dark, unnoticed by anyone. Months passed on this way, the red stone lived in my showcase, and the rock stayed in my cupboard. Ironically, even if I missed the red stone, I couldn't help looking at the rock that was in my cupboard. Every time I opened my cupboard, I felt it smiling at me, as though we held an unspoken relationship. I acknowledged the rock, still treasured the red stone in my showcase. The rock continued to keep me company from within my cupboard while the red stone sniffed haughtily when I turned towards it. Slowly I found that in spite of my will, the rock grew closer to me, and the red stone continued to grace me with its indifference. A couple of years went by this way, and ironically, I felt that I could spend an entire week without looking at the red stone, but I needed to see my little piece of rock every day. The memories of the thoughts we had silently shared together had become priceless and dear to me. It culminated to a point where I began taking the rock along with me in my pocket, unwilling to part from it. The red stone still stayed in the showcase, a souvenir of my trip to the forest. One day, a friend of mine, a gem expert, visited my place, and looking at the red stone started laughing. I was puzzled, once could appreciate the stone, one could admire it, but laugh, I couldn't even contemplate the reason. I waited till he calmed down, then asked him the reason for this sudden burst. He told me that such red stones were commonly found in that forest and though they looked like rubies, they were worthless. Many people had been fooled before and I was one more added to the list. That had been the reason for his laughter. I was, at first shocked, then angry, then embarrassed at my stupidity. I had fallen for it. Still a bit sore owing to my hurt ego, I managed to walk over to the showcase, removed the red stone and dropped it into the trash can. Incidentally, as I bent over to drop the red stone, the little piece of rock in my pocket rolled out on to the floor. I picked it up and as I was putting it in my pocket, my friend snatched at my hand, holding it firmly. I was puzzled once again, wondering what in God's name my friend was trying to do. He asked me where I found my little rock. I told him the entire story, how I found it, and had kept it in my cupboard for two years, before taking it out. He seemed flabbergasted hearing my tale, and asked me, in quite a vehement tone, if I had ever bothered to wipe it clean with a piece of cloth. True, it had never occurred to me, I hadn't bothered to. He then extracted his pocket toolkit and took out a piece of sponge from it. After carefully rubbing the edges of the rock with the sponge, he let out an exclamation. I had decided by then that this was a day of surprises for me. So I asked him once again what his expression was attributed to. He told me calmly that the rock I had carried carelessly with me in my pocket all these days was a Burmese red ruby, a gemstone worth about two million US dollars. Naturally I was stunned by this revelation. It took me a moment to regain my composure. Once I returned to my senses, he handed me back the stone and told me that these rubies were extremely rare, and only 4 such rubies have ever been found. I was holding a fifth ruby, fifth in the whole world. I then realized the full value of my 'little piece of rock'. No wonder I had felt that feeling of closeness when I first saw it lying on the grassy path. It was destined to be mine. I decided that it would be. I would never part with it. It would be with me till the day I lived, my 'little piece of rock'. Appearances are indeed, deceptive.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Revelations...
One fine morn, I was walking through a grassy path when I saw a bright red stone. It impressed me at the first sight. Without a doubt that it was a valuable gem, I picked it up and put it carefully in my pocket. A few days later, I was going through the same path again. This time, I saw a piece of rock lying there. Something told me that I should pick it up and take it with me. I obliged and picked it up, and put it in my pocket, not giving it another thought for weeks. Meanwhile the red stone which I had found earlier had most of my attention. I placed it in the showcase and boasted all about it to friends, neighbors and anyone who cared to listen. All this time, the little piece of rock sat in a corner in my cupboard, confined to the dark, unnoticed by anyone. Months passed on this way, the red stone lived in my showcase, and the rock stayed in my cupboard. Ironically, even if I missed the red stone, I couldn't help looking at the rock that was in my cupboard. Every time I opened my cupboard, I felt it smiling at me, as though we held an unspoken relationship. I acknowledged the rock, still treasured the red stone in my showcase. The rock continued to keep me company from within my cupboard while the red stone sniffed haughtily when I turned towards it. Slowly I found that in spite of my will, the rock grew closer to me, and the red stone continued to grace me with its indifference. A couple of years went by this way, and ironically, I felt that I could spend an entire week without looking at the red stone, but I needed to see my little piece of rock every day. The memories of the thoughts we had silently shared together had become priceless and dear to me. It culminated to a point where I began taking the rock along with me in my pocket, unwilling to part from it. The red stone still stayed in the showcase, a souvenir of my trip to the forest. One day, a friend of mine, a gem expert, visited my place, and looking at the red stone started laughing. I was puzzled, once could appreciate the stone, one could admire it, but laugh, I couldn't even contemplate the reason. I waited till he calmed down, then asked him the reason for this sudden burst. He told me that such red stones were commonly found in that forest and though they looked like rubies, they were worthless. Many people had been fooled before and I was one more added to the list. That had been the reason for his laughter. I was, at first shocked, then angry, then embarrassed at my stupidity. I had fallen for it. Still a bit sore owing to my hurt ego, I managed to walk over to the showcase, removed the red stone and dropped it into the trash can. Incidentally, as I bent over to drop the red stone, the little piece of rock in my pocket rolled out on to the floor. I picked it up and as I was putting it in my pocket, my friend snatched at my hand, holding it firmly. I was puzzled once again, wondering what in God's name my friend was trying to do. He asked me where I found my little rock. I told him the entire story, how I found it, and had kept it in my cupboard for two years, before taking it out. He seemed flabbergasted hearing my tale, and asked me, in quite a vehement tone, if I had ever bothered to wipe it clean with a piece of cloth. True, it had never occurred to me, I hadn't bothered to. He then extracted his pocket toolkit and took out a piece of sponge from it. After carefully rubbing the edges of the rock with the sponge, he let out an exclamation. I had decided by then that this was a day of surprises for me. So I asked him once again what his expression was attributed to. He told me calmly that the rock I had carried carelessly with me in my pocket all these days was a Burmese red ruby, a gemstone worth about two million US dollars. Naturally I was stunned by this revelation. It took me a moment to regain my composure. Once I returned to my senses, he handed me back the stone and told me that these rubies were extremely rare, and only 4 such rubies have ever been found. I was holding a fifth ruby, fifth in the whole world. I then realized the full value of my 'little piece of rock'. No wonder I had felt that feeling of closeness when I first saw it lying on the grassy path. It was destined to be mine. I decided that it would be. I would never part with it. It would be with me till the day I lived, my 'little piece of rock'. Appearances are indeed, deceptive.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
The Wall Crumbling??? Who should take over the reins?
What a dramatic decision by Rahul Dravid, to give up the post of the captain of the Indian Cricket team... I mean, it was only 3 months back, during the world cup, that most experts felt it was time for Dravid to step down as captain, still the Wall stood firm, ignoring criticism... now all the cynics have turned their attention to other stuff, and Mr. Dependable makes an entry onto the front page by announcing his retirement as captain... The reason, Dravid says that the Indian public and media are so reactive to loss, that two or three bad matches provoke an extreme reaction towards the team... Such a scenario makes the chances of improvement very difficult... Further, Dravid feels that the pressure of captaincy has at last got to his nerves... His own game has deteriorated over the past few months... In view of this, he feels it's time to hand over the reins to one of his colleagues and concentrate on his personal game...
The next big issue is, who's going to don the captain's cap now? There are three possible choices... The first option would be Sachin Tendulkar... This maestro is undoubtedly the legend of Indian cricket... he has been the captain of India in the past, but unfortunately captaincy hasn't favored him much... he isn't considered a successful captain... still he has got the experience and the caliber to lead the team...
The next choice would be the former Indian captain, Sourav Ganguly... Having made a comeback into the Indian team, Ganguly has not looked back ever since... Even when all other players have failed, Ganguly has held his ground and continued his blitzkrieg, a reminder to the critics that he hasn't given it up yet... 'Dada' as he is fondly called has been a successful captain in the past, his brave decisions paying off... people still remember the match versus South Africa where they needed 8 runs off the last over, with Klusener at his blasting best... Ganguly coolly tossed the ball over to Sehwag for the last over... To the dismay of the African crowd, Klusener was standing helpless, unable to score off Sehwag's slow flighted deliveries, and India won the match... Such is the tenacity of our 'Dada'...
Another choice would be the latest sensation of the Indian team, Mahendra Singh Dhoni... he was the vice captain of the team that won the under-19 World Cup a few years back... he is currently the captain of the Indian team in the Twenty20 series... he is a possible option for being the captain, though experience would count against him...
Personally, I feel that the captaincy should be given back to 'Dada' Ganguly... his record as captain has been extremely good, before he was unceremoniously stripped off his captaincy and his place in the team, under the pretext of being psychologically unstable... Ganguly has a cool head and the knack of making daring decisions that more often than not, pay off... moreover, Sachin's personal game suffered greatly during his captaincy and that is too big a gamble to take again... Dhoni doesn't have the international experience to become a captain right now, though he is a promising prospect for the future... Under the current circumstances, it would be the perfect role for Ganguly to don the mantle and take over the reins as the Indian captain... yet again...
The next big issue is, who's going to don the captain's cap now? There are three possible choices... The first option would be Sachin Tendulkar... This maestro is undoubtedly the legend of Indian cricket... he has been the captain of India in the past, but unfortunately captaincy hasn't favored him much... he isn't considered a successful captain... still he has got the experience and the caliber to lead the team...
The next choice would be the former Indian captain, Sourav Ganguly... Having made a comeback into the Indian team, Ganguly has not looked back ever since... Even when all other players have failed, Ganguly has held his ground and continued his blitzkrieg, a reminder to the critics that he hasn't given it up yet... 'Dada' as he is fondly called has been a successful captain in the past, his brave decisions paying off... people still remember the match versus South Africa where they needed 8 runs off the last over, with Klusener at his blasting best... Ganguly coolly tossed the ball over to Sehwag for the last over... To the dismay of the African crowd, Klusener was standing helpless, unable to score off Sehwag's slow flighted deliveries, and India won the match... Such is the tenacity of our 'Dada'...
Another choice would be the latest sensation of the Indian team, Mahendra Singh Dhoni... he was the vice captain of the team that won the under-19 World Cup a few years back... he is currently the captain of the Indian team in the Twenty20 series... he is a possible option for being the captain, though experience would count against him...
Personally, I feel that the captaincy should be given back to 'Dada' Ganguly... his record as captain has been extremely good, before he was unceremoniously stripped off his captaincy and his place in the team, under the pretext of being psychologically unstable... Ganguly has a cool head and the knack of making daring decisions that more often than not, pay off... moreover, Sachin's personal game suffered greatly during his captaincy and that is too big a gamble to take again... Dhoni doesn't have the international experience to become a captain right now, though he is a promising prospect for the future... Under the current circumstances, it would be the perfect role for Ganguly to don the mantle and take over the reins as the Indian captain... yet again...
Saturday, September 8, 2007
TOUCHING...
I found this poem in a community in orkut... i liked it, so i thought i would put it up here... by the way, it was written by someone under the pen name, Enigma...
The day begins afresh, bright and new,
Welcoming the event in its surreal dawn
The Angel known fully to the selected few,
Turns an year older, counting the day she was born
Dressed in silks of pearl white,
She steps daintily into the hall
Her eyes glowing with pride, so bright,
Stealing the attention of one and all
Behind the shadows stays a poor young man,
Praised by his fellowmen, and cursed by Fate
By his love for the dame, an ardent fan
A bouquet rests in his hand, for his soul mate
Great men step forward to present their gifts,
He waits till the end, patience, he has a lot
Kneeling before her, head bowed, the wreath he lifts,
Will she grace his love or not?
- Enigma
The day begins afresh, bright and new,
Welcoming the event in its surreal dawn
The Angel known fully to the selected few,
Turns an year older, counting the day she was born
Dressed in silks of pearl white,
She steps daintily into the hall
Her eyes glowing with pride, so bright,
Stealing the attention of one and all
Behind the shadows stays a poor young man,
Praised by his fellowmen, and cursed by Fate
By his love for the dame, an ardent fan
A bouquet rests in his hand, for his soul mate
Great men step forward to present their gifts,
He waits till the end, patience, he has a lot
Kneeling before her, head bowed, the wreath he lifts,
Will she grace his love or not?
- Enigma
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever"
- Keats
This is one of my favorite one liners... true, a beautiful thing cheers you up, no matter what it is... it might be a flower, a baby, a poem, a game even a joke... I'm sure everyone will agree to this... now comes the tougher part of it... please define beauty for me... yeah, right, I ask you a question, What is beauty? What is your perception of beauty, in other words, what appears beautiful to you? The answer to this question is a very complex one, and changes with each individual...
if i ask kshitij (the jester of the group), the likely answer would be "a hot chick is beautiful da machan"... hmm, it could be so... that's his opinion... if hot chicks cheer him up (no offense blingy, just an example), hot chicks are indeed beautiful to him...
next, let's ask prabu, the eternal pain (lol, my nickname for him, apart from sadist, necrolyte and a lot of others I'd rather not mention here, lest i get diverted)... prabu's view of beauty could be a magnum sniper rifle, it's long and slender barrel glinting in the sunlight... yeah, that sounds convincing, an AWP (magnum sniper rifle) can definitely be a beautiful thing for prabu...
aren't the two answers we got totally unrelated, i mean, you can't compare a girl with a gun... atleast not in terms of beauty... still, that's what it is... there lies the complexity in this issue... i say, no one can define beauty in general terms... the closest approximation depends on the individual... one could say, "beauty is anything that gives joy"... I could always argue "The anxious look on a girl's face waiting for her loveris beautiful"... there's nothing joyful in that, still it's beauty... likewise, there could be many versions of beauty, each one completely different from the rest...
my opinion, i consider a lot of things beautiful... for one, i think wordsworth poems are beautiful, the vivid descriptions of nature and its subtle intricacies... then, counter strike is beautiful... i could stay tuned for about 23 hours a day without getting tired of it... some people i find beautiful... (I'm not mentioning anyone from class, I'd be screwed by the controversy) my math teacher from 5th std was beautiful ( I mean the way she taught, not the looks, btw she was 54yrs old when I was in my 5th)... and coming to the more subtle things, the babble of a newborn baby is beautiful, the smile of a child is beautiful, as i mentioned previously, the anxious look on the face of an expectant lover, the serene beauty of a forest at night, the calmness of the sea(in retrospection, the sea looks disgusting, after the Jan 12th event), the splatter of rain against the window panes, the glow on the faces of a newly wed couple, the bewildered look of a child as he/she first goes to school, all these are beautiful...
P.S: OMG, what a post... never thought I'd write about something as abstract as this... it came as a passing thought in class when i was musing in gayathri mam's hour(:P i'd rather not mention what I'm thinking right now)... and materialized at about 12.30 in the night, when I could find nothing better to do...
- Keats
This is one of my favorite one liners... true, a beautiful thing cheers you up, no matter what it is... it might be a flower, a baby, a poem, a game even a joke... I'm sure everyone will agree to this... now comes the tougher part of it... please define beauty for me... yeah, right, I ask you a question, What is beauty? What is your perception of beauty, in other words, what appears beautiful to you? The answer to this question is a very complex one, and changes with each individual...
if i ask kshitij (the jester of the group), the likely answer would be "a hot chick is beautiful da machan"... hmm, it could be so... that's his opinion... if hot chicks cheer him up (no offense blingy, just an example), hot chicks are indeed beautiful to him...
next, let's ask prabu, the eternal pain (lol, my nickname for him, apart from sadist, necrolyte and a lot of others I'd rather not mention here, lest i get diverted)... prabu's view of beauty could be a magnum sniper rifle, it's long and slender barrel glinting in the sunlight... yeah, that sounds convincing, an AWP (magnum sniper rifle) can definitely be a beautiful thing for prabu...
aren't the two answers we got totally unrelated, i mean, you can't compare a girl with a gun... atleast not in terms of beauty... still, that's what it is... there lies the complexity in this issue... i say, no one can define beauty in general terms... the closest approximation depends on the individual... one could say, "beauty is anything that gives joy"... I could always argue "The anxious look on a girl's face waiting for her loveris beautiful"... there's nothing joyful in that, still it's beauty... likewise, there could be many versions of beauty, each one completely different from the rest...
my opinion, i consider a lot of things beautiful... for one, i think wordsworth poems are beautiful, the vivid descriptions of nature and its subtle intricacies... then, counter strike is beautiful... i could stay tuned for about 23 hours a day without getting tired of it... some people i find beautiful... (I'm not mentioning anyone from class, I'd be screwed by the controversy) my math teacher from 5th std was beautiful ( I mean the way she taught, not the looks, btw she was 54yrs old when I was in my 5th)... and coming to the more subtle things, the babble of a newborn baby is beautiful, the smile of a child is beautiful, as i mentioned previously, the anxious look on the face of an expectant lover, the serene beauty of a forest at night, the calmness of the sea(in retrospection, the sea looks disgusting, after the Jan 12th event), the splatter of rain against the window panes, the glow on the faces of a newly wed couple, the bewildered look of a child as he/she first goes to school, all these are beautiful...
P.S: OMG, what a post... never thought I'd write about something as abstract as this... it came as a passing thought in class when i was musing in gayathri mam's hour(:P i'd rather not mention what I'm thinking right now)... and materialized at about 12.30 in the night, when I could find nothing better to do...
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Books vs Experience
What's your choice? Are you the trademark nerd, preferring to stick to the books and stuff in knowledge till your brain can't hold more? Or are you the endeavoring daredevil, seeking pleasure in practicality, exploring new avenues and picking up pointers on your journey through life? Nothing wrong in choosing one, both have their pluses and minuses... Gimme a moment, I'll elaborate... Before that, let me make my stand clear... I'm maverick material, i prefer learning stuff by staying in the actual picture instead of visualizing an ethereal scenario...
Now, let's see what it would be like to have a discussion between two ardent supporters of their own choices, Mr. Bookworm and Mr. Maverick...
Narrator: Welcome, Gentlemen-
Maverick: Aww! Cut out the crap, get on with it...
Narrator: Well, go ahead guys, you know the issue...
[Scene Starts with Mr. Bookworm sitting upright in a chair, his blue shirt neatly tucked into the black formals, his glasses a touch askew, a sign that he'd been reading until moments before this meeting. In contrast, Mr. Maverick is sitting casually, in a t-shirt with the caption "FU" and a worn out jeans, his legs crossed at an angle, his eyes fleeting occasionally to the contemptuous figure before him]
Mr. Maverick: So, Mr. Bookworm, you think books are better than practical knowledge?
Mr. Bookworm: Of course Mr. Maverick, it is obvious. According to Newton-
Mr. Maverick: Aww, screw Newton, tell me what YOU think.
Mr. Bookworm: Er, I totally believe books are invaluable for gaining knowledge. It cannot be otherwise. [accompanied by an incredulous look]
Mr. Maverick: I must apologize I refuse to see your point. What is the use of books if you're going to spend all your life shut in a room reading them? Start the real thing man, come out of your cocoon.
Mr. Bookworm: Reading is essential to live. Otherwise you'd be overwhelmed by your surroundings.
Mr. Maverick: And what better way to live than to actually living it? You mean to say, you live and learn by reading instead of coming out and facing the real thing?
Mr. Bookworm: If you read, you'd be prepared to meet 'the real thing', whatever it may be.
Mr. Maverick: And when would that be? You'd be shunning away from it, under the pretext that you're 'preparing' for it.
Mr. Bookworm: That's preposterous.
Mr. Maverick: It is what it is.
Mr. Bookworm: OK, I'll ask you something. Imagine you don't know anything about swimming. You're pushed into a lake. What CAN you do? Instead, if you'd read about how to swim and float, you have a chance to survive. Can you counter that?
Mr. Maverick: You do have a point there.
Mr. Bookworm: Yes I do, and that's the reason I say books are better any day.
Mr. Maverick: I must oppose, life doesn't pre-plan everything for you. You can't expect to learn EVERYTHING. You must learn to adapt and survive, which you get only from experience. I mean to say, you have read about swimming, fine, but think you haven't read about fighting, and you're suddenly faced by a couple of goons. What would you do? Ask them for a moment to run to the nearest library?
Mr. Bookworm: Well, that would be a prudent thing to do, but-
Mr. Maverick: It would be, assuming those two goons are thick as trolls. In any normal scenario, you wouldn't stand a chance. You need experience , practical knowledge on how to tackle them. Even to run to your library, you need to come up with a convincing excuse, for which you need practical knowledge...there aren't many books labeled "1000 excuses for all occasions".
Mr. Bookworm: Yes, you're right on that one.
Mr. Maverick: Um, yeah, and there's another thing. You can gain a lot of street smartness from experience that isn't there in the books.
Mr. Bookworm: If you adhere to what's there in the books, you wouldn't need that street smartness in the first place.
Mr. Maverick: Probably, but what if something unexpected happens? Like the 'out of syllabus' stuff?
Mr. Bookworm: That would be a slight problem.
Mr. Maverick: Of course it would be.
Mr. Bookworm: Still, Mr. Maverick, I prefer to play safe... Knowledge from books is time tested and proved by great people.
Mr. Maverick: And how do you suppose those people came to know those things? By experience I must say... So again, experience prevails, my dear fellow...
Mr. Bookworm: Uh...
Mr. Maverick: Your bookish knowledge is like sitting in a camp reading about AKs and Uzis... Practical Knowledge is like being in the front, an AK in your hand. Books will help you little in such a situation-
Narrator: Excuse me , people, but we're running a bit late on this... If you could wind it up-
Mr. Maverick: Uh, OK [a touch of irritation in his voice, at being disturbed]
Mr. Maverick: So Mr. Bookworm, what do you say?
Mr. Bookworm: Uh, I must agree you're right about certain things.
Mr. Maverick: And you've got some good points too.
Narrator: So guys, I guess I'll sum up the discussion then... Knowledge from books is essential, but it's of little value without experience. I remember one saying in this context. It goes like this... "Knowledge is like a boat, Experience is like the sea. You can go to the sea without a boat, but a boat is of no use without the sea"
Now, let's see what it would be like to have a discussion between two ardent supporters of their own choices, Mr. Bookworm and Mr. Maverick...
Narrator: Welcome, Gentlemen-
Maverick: Aww! Cut out the crap, get on with it...
Narrator: Well, go ahead guys, you know the issue...
[Scene Starts with Mr. Bookworm sitting upright in a chair, his blue shirt neatly tucked into the black formals, his glasses a touch askew, a sign that he'd been reading until moments before this meeting. In contrast, Mr. Maverick is sitting casually, in a t-shirt with the caption "FU" and a worn out jeans, his legs crossed at an angle, his eyes fleeting occasionally to the contemptuous figure before him]
Mr. Maverick: So, Mr. Bookworm, you think books are better than practical knowledge?
Mr. Bookworm: Of course Mr. Maverick, it is obvious. According to Newton-
Mr. Maverick: Aww, screw Newton, tell me what YOU think.
Mr. Bookworm: Er, I totally believe books are invaluable for gaining knowledge. It cannot be otherwise. [accompanied by an incredulous look]
Mr. Maverick: I must apologize I refuse to see your point. What is the use of books if you're going to spend all your life shut in a room reading them? Start the real thing man, come out of your cocoon.
Mr. Bookworm: Reading is essential to live. Otherwise you'd be overwhelmed by your surroundings.
Mr. Maverick: And what better way to live than to actually living it? You mean to say, you live and learn by reading instead of coming out and facing the real thing?
Mr. Bookworm: If you read, you'd be prepared to meet 'the real thing', whatever it may be.
Mr. Maverick: And when would that be? You'd be shunning away from it, under the pretext that you're 'preparing' for it.
Mr. Bookworm: That's preposterous.
Mr. Maverick: It is what it is.
Mr. Bookworm: OK, I'll ask you something. Imagine you don't know anything about swimming. You're pushed into a lake. What CAN you do? Instead, if you'd read about how to swim and float, you have a chance to survive. Can you counter that?
Mr. Maverick: You do have a point there.
Mr. Bookworm: Yes I do, and that's the reason I say books are better any day.
Mr. Maverick: I must oppose, life doesn't pre-plan everything for you. You can't expect to learn EVERYTHING. You must learn to adapt and survive, which you get only from experience. I mean to say, you have read about swimming, fine, but think you haven't read about fighting, and you're suddenly faced by a couple of goons. What would you do? Ask them for a moment to run to the nearest library?
Mr. Bookworm: Well, that would be a prudent thing to do, but-
Mr. Maverick: It would be, assuming those two goons are thick as trolls. In any normal scenario, you wouldn't stand a chance. You need experience , practical knowledge on how to tackle them. Even to run to your library, you need to come up with a convincing excuse, for which you need practical knowledge...there aren't many books labeled "1000 excuses for all occasions".
Mr. Bookworm: Yes, you're right on that one.
Mr. Maverick: Um, yeah, and there's another thing. You can gain a lot of street smartness from experience that isn't there in the books.
Mr. Bookworm: If you adhere to what's there in the books, you wouldn't need that street smartness in the first place.
Mr. Maverick: Probably, but what if something unexpected happens? Like the 'out of syllabus' stuff?
Mr. Bookworm: That would be a slight problem.
Mr. Maverick: Of course it would be.
Mr. Bookworm: Still, Mr. Maverick, I prefer to play safe... Knowledge from books is time tested and proved by great people.
Mr. Maverick: And how do you suppose those people came to know those things? By experience I must say... So again, experience prevails, my dear fellow...
Mr. Bookworm: Uh...
Mr. Maverick: Your bookish knowledge is like sitting in a camp reading about AKs and Uzis... Practical Knowledge is like being in the front, an AK in your hand. Books will help you little in such a situation-
Narrator: Excuse me , people, but we're running a bit late on this... If you could wind it up-
Mr. Maverick: Uh, OK [a touch of irritation in his voice, at being disturbed]
Mr. Maverick: So Mr. Bookworm, what do you say?
Mr. Bookworm: Uh, I must agree you're right about certain things.
Mr. Maverick: And you've got some good points too.
Narrator: So guys, I guess I'll sum up the discussion then... Knowledge from books is essential, but it's of little value without experience. I remember one saying in this context. It goes like this... "Knowledge is like a boat, Experience is like the sea. You can go to the sea without a boat, but a boat is of no use without the sea"
Friday, August 17, 2007
Of screwdrivers and scratches...
What happens when things get beyond you? How would you react if everything around you seems to be collapsing upon you? What would you do if faced if things over which you have no control over engulfed you? How would it feel to be alone in this world, with not a soul to care for you? What would be your answer to life's toughest questions? How would it be if a person you loved deeply and cared for intensely started accusing you and getting upset because of something you did for his/her good? If all the above mentioned happens at a time you're already finding it difficult to get along, it'd push you over the edge...
Sometimes, you feel life's not worth all the tension and care you give it, things just go they way they are destined to be... But you can't just leave it at that... You tend to try to modify situations to suit you and if that doesn't work, you get desperate... Take an instance, where you try to convince someone about something for a period of six to eight months... The period is trying for both of you, but deep down within your heart, you're convinced that what you say is for the welfare of both of you... For six months, you try to explain the matter to the other person, while trying to convince him/her about the consequences... When that person has a different perspective on the issue, it gets a bit tough... Emotions are stretched and a sort of rift develops... The extremity of this leads to unprecedented accusations and unpleasant feelings... What CAN you do? You're helpless, desperate and filled with anguish... That is when you get hold of a screw driver and start working on your hand, trying to etch something drastical on the inner part of your forearm... It ends up as a collage of bloody marks, each one a memoir of the incident...
Sometimes, you feel life's not worth all the tension and care you give it, things just go they way they are destined to be... But you can't just leave it at that... You tend to try to modify situations to suit you and if that doesn't work, you get desperate... Take an instance, where you try to convince someone about something for a period of six to eight months... The period is trying for both of you, but deep down within your heart, you're convinced that what you say is for the welfare of both of you... For six months, you try to explain the matter to the other person, while trying to convince him/her about the consequences... When that person has a different perspective on the issue, it gets a bit tough... Emotions are stretched and a sort of rift develops... The extremity of this leads to unprecedented accusations and unpleasant feelings... What CAN you do? You're helpless, desperate and filled with anguish... That is when you get hold of a screw driver and start working on your hand, trying to etch something drastical on the inner part of your forearm... It ends up as a collage of bloody marks, each one a memoir of the incident...
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Biking - A Reckless Passion or a Fatal Desire?
The period of life from the late teens to the late twenties(sometimes early thirties) is, what i feel, the best part of a person's life... By the age of seventeen or eighteen, a person would truly experience and appreciate the joys and wonders of life... I mean to say, before that, he would be too immature to realize, and into his thirties, he would be too busy to... One of the favorite past times of most youngsters, at least the boys, is to zoom on their bike, trying for a cameo imitation of the 'Dhoom' movie bikers... In this regard, I wonder aloud, is biking worth the risk it involves? As soon as you see this question you may 'huff' me off as a spoilsport nerd, but if you care to read on, you'll see that I am not anything of the sort...
Everyday I see a newspaper column showing some ghastly bike accident, it's 9 out of 10 times, the same scene... the biker killed on the spot, and the bike, more a heap of rubble than anything related to a two wheeled automobile... Everytime I see this, I tend to rip that page out of the paper and do off with it... I think most of you would have guessed the reason... the instant my mom sees that, she would start off on a traffic-discipline session that is most vexing at the beginning of a day... She would say everything in such a melodramatic fashion, you could almost say it was taken out of a movie... If this is one thing, Dad's different altogether... Emphasizing on careful speed and good control, he would move on to how accidents happen even when there's absolutely no fault of the rider's... I would be tempted to ask, "What the hell can I do about something that's not under my control?", but would refrain, just for the fact that it would trigger off another session of enlightening speech... After years of such feedback, these thoughts manifest sometimes, in my opinion, and my perspective of biking...
I love bikes, as a rule... I love taking my bike out for a ride, whatever be the time, especially favoring the nights, when there is little traffic and lots of cool breeze to caress you as you coast through the roads... But, hmmm, I see a but coming... Everything has its limits, that's my feeling... I mean to say, going on your bike at 70kmph at 1AM, in the dead of the night, when the roads are virtually empty, is one thing... Trying out the same thing at 1PM, in the afternoon, when the traffic is at its peak, is something like welcoming accidents... For instance, i don't travel at more than 50kmph during the day, my dad's voice ringing in my ears... "If you try to save 10 minutes by riding fast, you'll lose 10 days, admitted in the hospital"... This sort of words, though irritating to listen to at the moment, will appear sensible once you start to think patiently... True enough, I see no harm in going at 50kmph, rather than 70, the difference in the time taken to reach the destination, 15 mins at the maximum... The risk's not worth the time you save... Another factor to stress upon is the use of helmets... Biking is a completely safe activity as long as you wear a helmet... From the past, it's observed that 95% of deaths in bike accidents are due to head injuries... Wearing a helmet protects you from that risk and makes bike riding substantially safer... I don't see any problem in wearing a helmet as long as i can ride my bike...
My view of this whole issue, Enjoy life, but take care you are in a position to enjoy life... you can;t enjoy life if you're stuck to a wheelchair all your life, or have to walk on crutches... Live safe, live happily...
Everyday I see a newspaper column showing some ghastly bike accident, it's 9 out of 10 times, the same scene... the biker killed on the spot, and the bike, more a heap of rubble than anything related to a two wheeled automobile... Everytime I see this, I tend to rip that page out of the paper and do off with it... I think most of you would have guessed the reason... the instant my mom sees that, she would start off on a traffic-discipline session that is most vexing at the beginning of a day... She would say everything in such a melodramatic fashion, you could almost say it was taken out of a movie... If this is one thing, Dad's different altogether... Emphasizing on careful speed and good control, he would move on to how accidents happen even when there's absolutely no fault of the rider's... I would be tempted to ask, "What the hell can I do about something that's not under my control?", but would refrain, just for the fact that it would trigger off another session of enlightening speech... After years of such feedback, these thoughts manifest sometimes, in my opinion, and my perspective of biking...
I love bikes, as a rule... I love taking my bike out for a ride, whatever be the time, especially favoring the nights, when there is little traffic and lots of cool breeze to caress you as you coast through the roads... But, hmmm, I see a but coming... Everything has its limits, that's my feeling... I mean to say, going on your bike at 70kmph at 1AM, in the dead of the night, when the roads are virtually empty, is one thing... Trying out the same thing at 1PM, in the afternoon, when the traffic is at its peak, is something like welcoming accidents... For instance, i don't travel at more than 50kmph during the day, my dad's voice ringing in my ears... "If you try to save 10 minutes by riding fast, you'll lose 10 days, admitted in the hospital"... This sort of words, though irritating to listen to at the moment, will appear sensible once you start to think patiently... True enough, I see no harm in going at 50kmph, rather than 70, the difference in the time taken to reach the destination, 15 mins at the maximum... The risk's not worth the time you save... Another factor to stress upon is the use of helmets... Biking is a completely safe activity as long as you wear a helmet... From the past, it's observed that 95% of deaths in bike accidents are due to head injuries... Wearing a helmet protects you from that risk and makes bike riding substantially safer... I don't see any problem in wearing a helmet as long as i can ride my bike...
My view of this whole issue, Enjoy life, but take care you are in a position to enjoy life... you can;t enjoy life if you're stuck to a wheelchair all your life, or have to walk on crutches... Live safe, live happily...
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