Knives and bulbs

Most discoveries in the history of humanity have their roots in two key areas. 

1. Accidentally stumbling upon a new ideation. Let me say, as humans of 1800s, we started observing that heated metal radiates visible light. Then we understood that a high resistance high current filament produces enough light for a room. We would use this technique and improvise it further to make a light bulb.
2. Desperation to solve a problem and creating a method to it. Or let me say, as humans in a parallel universe, we created automobiles before bulbs, and hence needed light devices that'd not blow off, don't need oxygen to burn and produce a lot of light. We'd work our brains for 60-70 years and end up with bulbs yet again.

We are busy taking a thin metal strap and heating it to thousands of Kelvin and when we observe that it starts turning red, we simply put it off afraid of melting, hammer it into a knife and use it to slice bananas. No, I am not speaking about metal and light. There are alternatives, we can come up with LEDs later. I am making a point against how we are teaching our kids. Yes, we can come up with alternatives like AI later on that can solve every problem by themselves, but does that mean we should discard our own human race and let machines take control? Isn't the entire point of civilisation to have humans last further in balance with the nature?

We have been trying to come up with an education system that makes a student master the math and science as Pandit Nehru must have dreamed. And when they do, we are trying to turn them into engineers, masters of systematic design, problem solving and logical thinking. For one essay, I'll ignore all the gems we have forced into engineering and end up with random campus placements. I'm speaking about the minority, the real gems who continue to shine, often more brighter after their engineering entrance examinations, by being the gem students they were taught all their life to be. I'm speaking about the 99.9 percentile diamond of a gems we would find in our raw material who are sharp enough to find feasible solutions to the limitless problems of our savaa sau karod desh vaasi.

When the metal finally reaches the perfect temperature, the perfect college farewell moment, we switch the circuit off, we hammer the metal, stressing it to our shape in the name of reservations and family constraints, cooling it in the waters of brain drain until we've lost a sharp mind into a sharp knife. Yes, we are still making good knives, but out of filaments that could've been lighting a home, helping an entire generation come up who'd have designed a knife, sword, pistol, ammo and a whole lot of nuclear silos for us.

P.S.:.No, I'm not a direct victim because I've found a problem to solve and I'm working against odds to make it happen. However, being from an elite college where these gems rot for years, interacting with many Indian-bred engineers working to create marvels abroad as a part of my work, and working in the batteries that input the educational heat into these filaments, I write the above based on my observations collected over 3 years and a moving article I read this morning.

Reference : I do not agree completely with the author's views but I quote for inspiration. Of course, a real beautiful article to read and think about..

http://www.zeading.com/story/what-more-could-i-do-cat-99-36-and-still-no-iims

Illusion

Opened a door, saw a new world, I closed it and into me furled.

A light somewhere, noon sun or a faint star, with curtains I bar. 

Trying to smell, no air, I sense neither foul nor fair. 

I hear none, not a heart beat, no leaves, breeze or feet.

Senses lost, dreams destroyed, thoughts fade into a black hole void. 

I like it here, this hopeless way, no night no day. 

I like it here, no you no I, none to care if I die. 

But would this void, vanish out, or take another soul I doubt.

Thinking about all I see, my universe, couldn't be penned in verse. 

And seeing that nothing, be everything, reveals a illusion writhing.

I open my eyes, the illusion present, I see many zodiacs and crescents. 

And life is here, all in the blink, and my thoughts connect such links.

Dreams and Reality - The confluence

I was talking to students when I asked one of them for their goals in life. With all innocence, he stood up and answered," I want to be a game designer." And then, they mocked him, the other students. Then he said,"A dream is always impossible until you achieve it." Whoa!!! We cheered and moved on. But can everything impossible be set as a dream? I want to go to the end of the universe. Yes, it is impossible. Yes, I will achieve it. Yes, it is my dream. Somehow, it does sound foolish. There's a very fine line between a foolish dream and an "ABLI" (Achievable but looks impossible) dream. The feasibility of dreams be ranked on a scale such that 0 to 1 is the grading. A feasibility of 1 would mean the fine line. And above 1, it would mean impossible.

At age 5, I want to be an astronaut, biker, teacher, musician, painter, actor or a president. The feasibility would never cross 1. At age 13, depending on whether you tried or not, all forms of art can generally be ruled out. By 18, the time you choose majors, the feasibility of all other subject-based-professions will be ruled out. Such feasibility is a personal measure and varies from person to person depending on several factors. Everyone of us has a utopia much different from what we are now. I want to see an education system that values learning to survive. A friend wants to see a world where people do not fake. Another wants a world free of all crime, another of all religion. To make that dream come true is tough. You should try it, practice it and preach it. YOU, yes YOU in capitals, should make it work because it is the world YOU want to see. On a collective scale. Whether we do or not, and whether we succeed or not is an entirely different issue. But, to understand that WE are solely responsible for the fulfilment of our dreams is important.

The confluence with reality fails when the feasibility factor crosses 1. It is equally important to convert all your dreams into feasible targets by adjusting them. Just because a pride of lions dreams of world as its territory won't make it feasible. It is at this juncture of dreams and reality that is the ideal case. With an effort efficiency of 90% work, our goals and work load should go up as much as 110% to smooth out the human errors.

It is easy to dream. It is not easy to dream something you can make happen. The solution would be to adapt your dream to reality. It is easy to work towards a dream. It is not easy to work towards a dream without disturbing the dreams of fellows around you, because it will be someone's dream to have a world where dreams would interfere too. That's a vicious circle. The solution would be to think rationally of the effects and work, rather than work and wait for side-effects. After all, not every dream is as easy as demonetisation to fight corruption.

Cheers,
Happy New Year.

Vattsy

A lone birthday

I've been an introvert for three quarters of my life, and the last 6 years were revolutionary in the way I started communicating with people. People are good to talk to, but unlike most others claim, I see that the best moments of life bless you alone. You can only share the happiness when we achieve something, but to know all the pain that you went through as you achieved it, none will know it the way you do, nor will they feel it the way you do. For such love of being alone, and communicating with the inner self, I have chosen the best set of holidays I got, the ones that sandwiched my birthday to ride solo into lands where no one knew me. 

It has been planned more than a month ago, and the waiting pressed me. The wait was because of several reasons. The bike was rotting in my hall since 4 months, the gear I brought for my second first salary needed to be tested, I was longing for rains like a drought-struck. 10th of October, I was to ride into a land called 'Diviseema', the fertile basins of Krishna, where my parents grew around. All through my childhood, the references to these places were innumerable.

Green farmlands and cloudy skies welcoming near the AP-TS borders

It all started on 9th, as I rode down to Vijayawada on the butter smooth NH-65. The drive was eventless until I crossed the borders that were not there when I visited these places 7 years ago. As I stopped to rest and click the picture below, it started drizzling from behind. I'd love to drench on the ride but the luggage my mom asked me to fetch was not so. As it started raining, I could see that a whole new species of insects woke up and swarmed the lands.  Many stuck all across me before I even stopped. I'd felt bad I was killing them but I soon recalled what Gita said "to do what you're made for"

A murder under the broad daylight

There were a crazy group of 8-9 riders riding Truimphs, Harleys and and Benellis. I rode along with them  till the border checkposts where we were all stopped by the police. I noticed that none of them were packed in any gear riding such big machines. I lost interest in making friends and told the police that I wasn't a part of that gang. One of them confirmed saying, "Leave him. His is not a racing bike." I hopped on and got moving. Somewhere deep inside, the teacher was still thriving to teach them what a performance bike and cruiser are.

I rested the whole day, for it was pouring down in Vijayawada. The next day started as every birthday would, with lots of messages and calls. Running ahead of calls and against the procrastinating me, I pulled out quick and was out on the happiness road by 9 in the morning. And happiness was for real. A dry riverbed on one side, I wondered what we were doing by saving waters in the dam when the fertile lands were running dry. I'd never been into irrigation villages before and my shallow knowledge of waters was later disproved. Coconut trees were guarding the paddy fields on the other side. The clean air was not picturesque but it felt so good.

Coconut trees guarding the paddy fields

The rivers of India have been assigned festivals called "Pushkaram". Each river's pushkaram repeats after 12 years and many theists come down to bathe in the river waters in the 12-day slot and pray to Gods. It was River Krishna's turn this year and the government had built many ghats (safe places to bathe in the flowing river). I descended down a couple of ghats to have a look at how the river feels, I would've felt bad if the riverbed felt any different, but here is a road eroded by the violence of the river. Here is a small concrete way laid across the river.

The dry riverbe

The roads went on and paddy fields lined around. Or maybe everywhere. The road was just a big streak of tar in what seemed to be an infinity of paddy fields. For atlas 6 successive hours, I was just riding amongst paddy fields everywhere, and the land is not even known for paddy. How long and slow does the nature produce food? How patient someone waits for that plant to reap? How careless in an urban area do we act while we throw such food out? Well, I asked these questions to myself 2 years ago over a random philosophical discussion and I have changed a lot that day.

Soon, I was at the destination I started for. The place where river Krishna meets the sea. There's  not much fuss around the place. I was on the southern bank and the poles beside belong to the last ghat on the river. The channel accounted for one-third of the river's drainage, but there were no waves on the river bank. The river was deep and slow and flowed calm. The saying "Santh waahate Krishnamayi" came to my mind. Silently flows River Krishna. Though I was unable to photograph, but the river was clearly differentiable by the eye. The lack of waves in the region where the river meets the sea can be seen in the central right of the picture.

Where the river meets the sea

The noon

We can't go to your Motherland baby

It was afternoon and I needed to start my journey back. On the way back, I found routes that were not highways. Mangroves grow where rivers meet the seas and here they are. The way nature adapts itself   is incredible. And here is the mother of all adaptions, plants growing in waters salty enough to cook your favourite gravies. The salt water canals were dug into the lands and local fisheries work on them. 

Fisher's canals, they call it the river

Never-ending mangroves

The narrow roads guarded by trees reminded me of the isle of TT, and I put all the good things I had to test, still being on the safer side for I was new to the equipment. I was so excited with the views, wind and the feel of the ride that I could not stop for more pictures of the best part of the journey. Oh, by the way, I was hungry too. 

Isle of TT feels

I was back on the other side of the river and here are the smallest 'Lanka' villages you'd find around. 'Lanka', meaning an island, are fishing villages commonly seen in the delta regions of South Indian rivers. Unlike most other islands that flood over the low-lying regions in floods and full flow, Krishna river has not drenched these lands in the past despite flowing 50 feet deep all around. Yes, right 50 feet deep.

A lanka village

I am not a person who would want to eat a specific dish for cravings. For all that MANIT had taught me, I am hungry craving for food or I am satisfied. But this, this was different. After 4 months of eating North Indian food, I was finally craving for the South Indian spice. I also wanted it to be as eventless and I bought these 'Mirchi Bajji' for 20 Rupees and it was a happy lunch. There was this enthusiastic dog at the little stall that licked my hand for nothing. I felt ecstatic that moment. The perfect birthday lunch.To add up, I gulped down half a litre of coconut water and pH was balanced. Yes, Coconut water is sold in litres down here costing around 60Rupees/litre. Come, have some coconut.

The birthday lunch

The ride continued forward on roads unknown to Tenali, and then back to Vijayawada. The roads were all well laid, new and maintained, despite not being state Highways, marking good state administration. I talked to farmers on a couple of breaks and they seemed to be happy with the rains this year.

The perfect tourday

Happy place

The next day was Dussehra, a festival celebrating the victory of good over bad and it has been a custom to clean and flower our vehicles. Vehicles back then meant the cattle we rode on, and they would have enjoyed an affable celebration. Now, this practice would be worthless, but I was not in a mood to talk out to my mom. The lands were very fertile, and the sheer number of juicy lemons tied should tell you the story. That lemons were dropping out useless in our backyard everyday, even if we weren't watering the plant.

Look at the lemons

Reminiscent

Some people are lost in the wood, in thoughts of what's bad and what's good, 

ever mindful of their dress and food, ignorant of the purpose for which they stood. 

I pity and lend them a hand, teach them things in a way they understand, 

help them savour their lives bland, to let them ride the life unplanned.

Some humans think as much as I do, and talk and listen like I honestly mean to, 

knowing them to have lived like me too, I reveal myself honest and true. 

We sail the life boat as long as we can, surviving like we belong to the same clan, 

dancing in the same heat on the reality pan, until life pulls us apart with a new plan.

Some I meet have an idea for the universe, to better it or delay its becoming worse, 

from them I learn and pen down my verse, and later into my thought reimburse. 

I churn the lesson and suck out the pulp, and down the bitter truth in a heavy gulp. 

I thank these teachers for curing my yelp, and move on to people whom I could help.

One inspires and learns from my ways, to make this world a deserving place, 

one lives beside me in our maze, trying to clear off the thoughts' haze, 

one teaches me to live in the moment now, and I follow abiding to the unsung vow, 

into my past and future I plough, harvesting lessons and watering them with love.

If not to learn and better at the present, of what good is it to be reminiscent? 

If only to lost times resent, why enjoy the full moon when you miss the crescent?