Wire wire in the wall

The intent of this write up is to define an equation to determine how much a bunch of wires get tangled when left to themselves. And to possibly figure out a solution to tangled wires or cables for ever.  Here goes nothing.

The factors I believe (based on millions of practical observations) are as below. I will attempt at link up the factors to real physical properties as we go along.

• length of the wire segment(l)

• thickness of the wire (d)

• degrees of freedom / planes of movement (f)

• elasticity of the wire (e)

• degree of initial intertwining (i)

• uniformity of initial intertwining (j)

• space in the enclosure to move around relative to other wire segments (v)

• energy provided to the wires to move around (c)

• time allowed to the wires to move around (t)

• number of interacting cable segments +1 (n) , i.e. if there is one wire segment, n = 0 if there are two wire segments, n = 1 and so on. Please note that a single wire can turn into multiple interacting segments if it folds into itself.

It would serve no real purpose for the number to have a unit attached to it, so we shall derive it as a pure number.

Degree of Entanglement (E) = f (l, d, f, i, c ,j, v, e, t, n)

Now to boil it down to something useful.

The initial intertwining ties back into the resultant number of interacting segments and space available for the wires to move around, so we can eliminate i and j as independent variables and let n and v represent their impact.

Length and thickness aren't relevant independent of each other, it's more the ratio that matters.

Logically the troubles would grow exponentially with the number of interacting segments.

The elasticity of the wire can be factored into the degrees of freedom, bringing the degrees of freedom to 4, i.e. movement along the any one of the x,y or z planes and elasticity.

Any one of l/d, f, v , c , t , n tending to zero implies no entanglement. SO the formula would be a product of the variable, n being an exponential variable.

So E= ((l/d)*f*v*c*t)^n

While I can boil the equation down further, make it more specific, it already is in a useful enough form to help us figure out how to prevent our wires from getting entangled and we can proceed to design new wires.

Space, Time, Energy are factors external to the wire, and hence not to be considered for design. But these are the factors that we can use to prevent existing wires from getting tangled up.if we minimise the space available the interaction space available to the wires, the time and energy will become irrelevant e.g. A tight wrap in a case, tape to prevent movement etc. are examples of how this can exploited to provide us with unentangled wires, which is already done by manufactures for wires out of the box.

The length and thickness of wires cannot be zero. That is just wireless. Elasticity should ideally be zero, but this wouldn't reduce the entanglement to zero.

Number of interacting segments can be influenced, but not by changing the number of segments, but by eliminating the interaction.

That leaves us with flexibility of the wire - the degrees of freedom so to say. A wire with zero degrees of freedom, i.e. a wire that cannot bend is a stick. So we need it to bend. That is what qualifies it as a wire. But if has a finite thickness, and a single degree of freedom / plane of movement, it cannot interact with neighbouring wire segments. To give you an idea of a single degree of freedom, try tying a motor cycle chain into a knot. then think about the odds of that happening by itself because the chain was in a bag.

So a design of a wire to eliminate entanglement would have the conducting core encased in a casing resembling a bicycle chain. A more practical but less useful design would be something like flat noodles, greatly restricting movement in all planes except one.

Voila! Unentangleable wires !

Mileage

The only question an Indian will ask you about your vehicle is "kitna deti hai ?", referring to the mileage that your vehicle affords you. It's also the primary concern that any Indian has while purchasing a vehicle. The reason is simple - we're a poor people and for most of us,  our vehicles are a means of transport and nothing more. We may pretend they are our pride and status symbols etc. but the way we skim on the air conditioning, turn off our vehicles at every opportunity that presents itself, monitor the fuel consumption by resetting our trip meter at every refuel and try to do a other million small things that we believe will improve the bang per buck we spend on fuel, begs to differ. 

But we continue to be disappointed. The reason is simple, but it is a catch 22 kind of situation in the sense that our self perceived poverty which makes us monitor our mileage in the first place keeps us from achieving the maximum mileage that our vehicles and infrastructure can afford us. It will also prevent most of us from grasping or at least implementing what I'm suggesting.

Presenting the logic before the advice. Our mileage is higher by about 40 percent on a highway than in the city. This isn't because the road is smoother or the distance is longer. This is because we rarely change gears or apply brakes. Well, not rarely on Indian highways but less frequently than in the city.

And what makes us brake or switch gears in the city? It's not the bad roads in general. They play a part but the main cause is the traffic. Why is the traffic a problem?  Because it doesn't move steadily in one direction. People stop, so people zig zag, so people stop. It's a vicious cycle. Right from thoughtless motorists who try to enter the mainstream at an intersection, right this instant at any cost,  to thoughtless pedestrians who must walk or cross where they're not meant to. Missing indicators and broken brake lights, not getting to a side to pick someone up and parking incorrectly all pile up,  choking the flow of the traffic. And then we realise we're running late and do some more brain dead things. Overtake from the wrong side, jump the lights drive above the speed limit for the few seconds that we can. All in all we choke ourselves up.

Selfishness. Stemming from a deep seated sense of poverty and insecurity. How can I let someone pass when I'm late for work? Why should I let someone pass, will that not be granting him a dominant status? Why should I look where I'm walking, isn't that the responsibility of the motorists?  I'm so cool, how could I follow any rules? Heck, why should I know any rules? Do they even apply to me once I've made it so far in life that I can actually afford a vehicle?

It's almost as if part of the down payment on the vehicle is a scoop of the owner's brain. The part that controls logic on the road.

Anyway. Back to the point. I'll keep it simple. One rule - 'I will never obstruct the path of a vehicle going faster than mine'.

Let it sink in. Explore the possible scenarios. Let your brain throw up the loopholes. Let your being revolt at the thought of giving. How can I give someone a right of passage? Doesn't that make me a lesser human being? Doesn't it being my motoring skills into question?

It's that simple really. If everyone is letting everyone else pass, someone will let you pass.
You will not cut lanes or into flowing traffic (and make vehicles slow down). You will not keep inching forward at signals effectively cutting off half the road (and make passing vehicles slow down). This will mean more vehicles get through each green light and hence fewer traffic jams. You will not pack your vehicles (bikes) like a can of sardines at a red light so you will not need to disentangle before you and the traffic behind you can move. Which will again mean more vehicles get through each green light. You will stop to let vehicles pass at a crossing where a signal is absent or powered off and hence avoid traffic jams. You will not go down into the lane meant for oncoming traffic when your lane is backed up, thereby avoiding a traffic jam. You will get to a side and turn on your harazard lights when you're parked so you don't obstruct traffic. The scenarios are innumerable, but if you want to, you will get the point.

Traffic flow smoothens. And voilà! Better mileage!  Unless you let your rotten core get the better of you and try to become the faster vehicle right before the moment of contention. It's not a race. It's not a competition. It's a matter of cooperation. Everyone wins.

While I couldn't care less about the pennies you'll save on fuel, we as a nation a 5 percent reduction in crude oil import would mean about $7 billion. That's money that could be spend feeding people instead of egos. Treating infection and ailments instead of accident victims. Building roads instead of regulating them.

Democracy

I do not pretend to understand. Anything. Either I know it, or I figure it out as I play it out in my head or I admit upfront I don't understand.

I don't understand politics.

But I do understand the basic premise of democracy. The ballot and voting. And election and decision. The dependence of the system on intelligence, culture and choice.

Also, I'd like to mention here that I avoid mass media news (newspapers, 24 hour news channels etc.) like the plague, and that affords me the luxury of sifting through a select few distilled views and opinions, from sources I have established as reliable for a variety of reasons over time. So while I may have the social awareness of a tapeworm, I have a firmer grasp on the political reality than the average person who is acutely aware of every breath every politician draws. Based on this grasp, I firmly believe we as a nation do not deserve the power that a democracy affords us.

As always let me elaborate.

I witnessed the response of one of our mini metros, Pune, to a little challenge thrown our way yesterday. The Palkis (you might have to look that up) arrived, like they have for hundreds of years and threw the ill prepared traffic totally out of whack. A city which does see a lot of traffic but rarely a jam, was suddenly very still. Noisy, irritated and restless, but still.

When I joined one of the hundred traffic jams in the city,  I wasn't sure what was causing it. A collision blocking the road? A power cut turning off the signals leading to a free for all? Turned out it was the worst - an actual traffic cop trying to direct traffic. The primary skill set of a Pune traffic police person consists of exactly one skill - levying fines on bikers for riding without a licence. They choose to be clueless about everything else a traffic cop needs to know.

The next junction was worse. No traffic cop, so the motorists were left to their own device. Traffic flowing from a side road had blocked the flow on the main line for a few seconds, so the vehicles had to wait till they could get in again. Did we stop one behind the other like we should have as responsible motorists?  No we chose to start going down the wrong side just to keep moving and get to the front. Soon the T junction was choc-a-block because there was no where for any one to go. All because we couldn't wait in line for a few seconds.

I explained to a motorcyclist adjacent to me how he'd caused a traffic jam. He was aghast at the suggestion. "Me?" He asked. "I was just going that way." He did eventually understand that he was on the wrong side of the road, effectively blocking off traffic with the aid of numerous like minded idiots.

How we behave on the road says a lot about us as social creatures and about our level of intelligence in general. We choose to violate speed limits. We choose to drive down the wrong side of the road to save a few seconds. We choose to wear seat belts and helmets, not to save our lives, but to avoid a hundred rupee fine. In effect we wouldn't wear them if no one were looking. We choose to not use our turning indicators. We choose to ignore others' turning indicators. We choose to drive with our head lights on high beam mode even if it blinds motorists on the opposite side. We choose to zigzag and create chaos. We choose to keep creeping forward at red lights. We choose to jump red lights altogether. We choose to terrorise pedestrians and cyclists. We choose to violate lane discipline. We choose to overtake from the left. We choose to enter main line traffic without warning. We choose to refuse anyone the right to stop to ask for directions or get out of a parking slot or to make a U turn. We choose to fuel up insufficiency and drag our vehicles around. We choose to jaywalk. We choose to ignore pedestrian bridges and walkways. We choose to use our phones while driving and even text while riding bikes. We choose to hold conversations with fellow bikers while riding, effectively blocking the road. We chose to park like imbeciles. We choose to stand around and eat and chat while vehicles make their way around us. We choose not let an ambulance or fire brigade pass. We choose to bribe traffic police. We choose to intimidate traffic police. We choose to ignore accident victims. We choose to get into a fight if we survive an accident. We choose to not maintain our vehicles. We choose to get into and out of running buses. We choose to get drunk and try all of the above.

Coming out of the traffic to day to day life. We choose to litter. We choose to not learn how to use a toilet. We choose to urinate on walls and in the street. We insist on spitting gutka and pan on walls and in lifts to the extent that it becomes a structural issue rather than one of hygiene or aesthetics. We insist on repeatedly pressing buttons in a lift. We choose to not learn which button we need to press when calling a lift. We choose to cross train tracks. We choose to destroy, deface, abuse and steal public amenities and property in the best of times (not factoring in riots). We choose to not stand in queues for anything. We choose to use electronic devices when prohibited in aircraft. We choose to have obnoxious ring tones and to yell when speaking on our phones. We choose to violate safety and hygiene norms wherever possible. We cut corners with everything. We choose to cheat on our taxes. We insist on writing on our currency notes. We choose to ignore a rape or robbery in progress. We choose to haggle with a poor vegetable vendor and in the same trip donate money to Calvin Klein. We choose to equip our tool kits poorly and never cleanup after ourselves. We choose to run CSR projects so that they look pretty on our annual reports. We choose to cheat and rob tourists.  We choose to be racist and narrow minded. We choose to mock people with special needs. We choose to go through our education and careers on autopilot.

And we choose our leaders. This time we seem to have accidentally got it right, but do we really deserve to a have a say in anything?

Fractal

Started off as a doodle, but I think it certainly qualifies to be a fractal....

Tetris

I've played a lot of tetris. A lot. I started pretty late (at 21), with the Linux Red Hat version, moved on to the Facebook variants (both the single player and the multiplayer versions), did a bit of the hand held monochrome variety and finished off on my Android phone. I am pretty good at it. In those long intense hours, I couldn't help but notice parallels between the game and my life. So here are a few life lessons I've learnt from tetris, most of which apply to most of our lives....

1. It all starts with a single block.But odds are, at the end you will not remember which block you started with. Or any other block in particular.

2. You have no control over what you are given. But you do have control over what you make of what you're given.

3. It's important to plan. But it's more important to know your plans will (at least eventually) fail.

4. Mistakes made early may lead to a long painful life. But they may also lead to unexpected opportunities later.

5. Mistakes made late usually lead to a swift, painless end. But mistakes by definition are accidents, don't engineer them.

6. Everyday is different. Every life is different. But they're so similar. 

7. To each his own. But there are only a finite number of correct ways to do anything.

8. Friends come in all shapes and sizes. But so do enemies.

9. If life allows you to save for a rainy day, save. But if you hang on to your savings indefinitely, you'll take them to an early grave.

10. Calculated risk is essential to growth. But knowing when to pull out is critical to survival.

11. Life will give you a lot of stress. But you don't have to take it.

12. Celebrate every block placed well, celebrate every line cleared. But play for the tetrises.

13. Plan around and learn from, but don't grieve over a block placed wrong.

14. A fresh start always feels good. But each fresh start may be the last.

15. There are no do overs. But there can be breaks.

16. Know your options, and use them shamelessly. But do live by a code.

17. It's only the score that matters in the end. But it helps to know the moves that give you a better bang for your buck.

18.It just doesn't get any easier. But it does keep getting closer to the top.

19. Everyone must wait for the elevator. But you can always take the stairs.

20. The new kids will be quicker and better at the game. But treachery and old age will overcome skill and youth.

21. No matter how good you are, in the end life always wins. But it isn't over till it's over.

Happiness

I'm delving into this matter because I have claimed in one of my favourite write ups (Cherophobia http://poetry-prose-and-more.blogspot.com/2012/02/cherophobia.html)  that the pursuit of happiness is the only driving factor behind every human action, inaction or reaction. Also it has been a source of major confusion and hence a source of significant power to those who choose to feed off it. Time to demystify it.

Compared to the soul and God, happiness is a tangible thing. Not measurable, but tangible. Tangible because you don't need to believe in it, model your entire life around that belief and wait to die to see if you were right. Tangible because there are people, alive and kicking, young and old, across cultures and geographies who have experienced it, in varying measures. Hopefully that'll make the matter easier to decipher.

Happiness is defined as the state of being happy. Happy is defined as a state characterised by pleasure, contentment or joy. Pleasure is the state of being pleased due to gratification and satisfaction due to recreation amusement, diversion or enjoyment. Contentment is defined as satisfaction. Joy as happiness, elation etc. I guess it's clear that the dictionary will only serve to drive us in circles in this matter. Listing synonyms as meanings and generally being unhelpful. I guess that would be the case if I explored the meaning of any feeling or emotion. You would need to have experienced the particular feeling to understand the dictionary meaning.

I define happiness as what you feel when you get something you want.

It feels stronger or weaker depending on a lot of factor such as how badly you wanted something, your self-perceived degree of entitlement and you level of expectation to name a few. It could be a want in any form, ranging from a food you've been craving to the attention of a person you've been wanting to mastery over an art or a vice or your body to professional recognition or financial success to intoxication in its many forms. You may not even know that you wanted something till getting it makes you happy.

The only common thread here is that the event that brings happiness embodies an elevation from your previous state defined by the coordinates of the degree of presence of a particular factor.

Consider an extended stay at a luxury hotel. Initially the quality of the amenities makes you happy, since it's usually a step up from what you have at home. The positive delta (incremental betterness, for the lack of a better word) is what makes you happy.  Hey who doesn't want a better bed and shower? The the law of diminishing marginal value comes into play and you stop noticing your bed and shower. They're alright, but they don't make you happy anymore. As a certain Mr Kano would say, the delighter has turned into a dissatisfier. Then one day the hotel, feeling indebted to you because of your patronage upgrade you to the presidential suite. The cycle restarts.

It looks like the positive delta is the only thing that keeps the happiness going. Yes, there's this other thing some people like to talk about, called 'inner happiness' which is independent of external stimuli, but it's usually either a scam,  a misnomer or (with a significant probability) something I do not understand. So I'll fit it in as I best can,  and leave it for them to decide which of the descriptions fits it best.

Coming back to the positive delta. If you plot human happiness on a graph it would resemble a non uniform sawtooth wave, with the happiness representing a spike and the following period where we get over the happening representing the decay (logarithmic, not linear). Now the graph represents your happiness, but there are hundreds if not thousands of things that can make one happy. So every time you experience a positive delta on any one of the factors your happiness graph should show a spike.

By extension of the above concept, happiness is dependent on contrast and change. Permanent happiness sounds like a delusional state of mind. No one can realistically keep adding up positive deltas without hitting a patch of decay.

So unless there's a massive overriding reason, which outweighs everything else in your life, and nothing else matters, happiness (and on the other hand, sadness) will be intermittent. It's putting all your eggs in one basket. Maybe you won't live long enough for things to go wrong, but most of us do. And then all hell breaks loose.

So what I recommend is the clinical approach of self induced delusion. (You'll forget that the delusion is self imposed with the passage of time). You can impose control limits on the movement of your happiness, and assume you're happy as long as you're within that band, thus replacing the fine sawtooth curve with a fat line, which must stay afloat at a certain level representing the degree of happiness we have accepted to be realistic.

This state would be defined as contentment - an acceptance of the realistic state of being, without being bothered by it. The key of course is to keep the fat line afloat, because if you're not doing even that much, you're probably dead.

Why

Why? It's a question of spectacular importance. Something we club with the other 'w' questions, but it has infinitely more significance than any other question that we ever ask.

"Why so?" you may be thinking. Let me explain.

'Why' gives us the power to question and understand the functioning of everything around us ranging from celestial bodies to the alarm clock to the government to safety pins. It enables us to question status quo and to bring about (at times) much needed change. It is versatile enough to actually substitute most of the other 'w' questions if used appropriately.

We ask, and in most cases we get a definitive answer, since most of us don't bother to question things that don't bother us or cost us money on a regular basis. Some of us whose gamut of operation requires more skill than having a pulse, frequently encounter theories in response to their 'whys'. And sometimes there just isn't an answer yet, not even a theory, so the rational admit to this fact and get to work figuring out the why.

This is where the regular rational use of why ceases. And things get very interesting.

The fundamental assumption that was made when presenting this potent thought weapon to us was that we would use it to drill down into matters that do have a known and understood underlying cause, having taken into account all the assumptions (even unstated ones).  When you ask why and you're questioning something and stop short in your inquisition of the matter because you accepted the first answer that came along or worse still, you forget that either your question or the answer are riding on unstated assumptions you have to be lucky to wind up with just the stigma of having done something idiotic. In most cases it causes people to lose track of reality, develop delusional behaviour and do something idiotic on a regular basis, without even being aware of the degree of idiocy. The best (or worst) part is they have plenty of company.

For example I may ask 'why is my skin wheatish?' The answer I would receive is 'because you're Indian', coming from an extrapolation of the probability of finding wheatish Indians with confusing the Indian subcontinent for India. But I'm still okay. Now this is the part where the system has averted its eyes, and is hoping that I have the good sense to follow up correctly. A correct follow up question in this case is (and yes there is a need for a follow up question because a lot of Indians aren't wheatish) 'why does being Indian mean my skin is wheatish?' I would hear a variety of responses, most of which would factor in the genetic make up of Indians and the environmental factors which lead to that range of skin tones, and the initial answer would be refined to include Pakistan and other neighbouring regions, and exclude the South of India, where wheatish complexion isn't very common. So I'm home safe, with my rational mind intact, and a little tidbit of information added to my mental database. I could drill deeper still, depending on my reason for asking in the first place and wind up tracking population mixing and movement and eventually continental drift. But this line of questioning is safe.

The Hatter joins the party when I ask a follow up question like 'why was I born Indian?' What I would have done to the scientific process here, is akin to moving manure with a ladle before stirring my soup with it. And as is the case with every process known to man, garbage in garbage out is the one clear rule of the game. (I'm choosing to ignore processes specially designed to deal with garbage because this isn't one of them.) The only real thing one can compare this with is probably a random number generator, where essentially the output is required to be (what can be easily mistaken for) garbage. The key factor to be considered here is that there is no machine involved in most cases. A human does the answering. And the second most dangerous human tendency (second only to asking questions and accepting random answers as correct without question) is the complementary one - the need to appear more knowing and intelligent than one really is, by denying the fact that some questions cannot yet be answered. If random bullshit must be conjured to fill the gap, so be it. If more random bullshit must be conjured to fill the holes in the previous theory, of course it must be done. And if entire mythologies must be created to simplify and reinforce the underlying 'lessons', even  better. What could be better than vague and equivocal stories about pretty women and strong men, and magic and non existent places and creatures, supposedly meant to drive home a lesson ?

The right response to the question would be to explain that the question draws from the misguided belief that 'I am actually the immortal soul' which was the malicious response to a similar question many millennia ago. In many ways the soul is equivalent to the imaginary number 'i', the square root of negative one, which is used to explain many a concept. Except scientists are very aware that they cannot buy 'i' apples or divide their estate into 'i' parts or travel 'i' kilometers. Hence 'i' serves the very useful purpose of serving as a catalyst in the process of explanation and demonstrating many physical and mathematical concepts, without talking over our lives. The soul on the other hand, well we all know how that one went.

The Kings of yore were wise. They understood that men stay busy in times of war, but with nothing to make them feel heroic and keep them occupied in times of peace, they needed distractions. Or they would create their own, ones which would more often than not end in the death of the royal family (SIC Tyrrione Lannister from Game of Thrones). They also couldn't make it obvious that they were the source of this distraction, so an entire class of holy men was born.

They started need basis, replying to stupid questions with stupid answers. Slowly but surely they wove all their stupid answers into a single web called their religion. They created a God, an omnipotent being creating and running the whole show. Of course no mere human could be assigned credit for all the collective mess. Also someone high up in the sky and no one has ever seen, is the best candidate for assignment of blame, since he's that much harder for the mob to lynch.

They used the made up entity to explain everything, right from why there is light in the day, to why there is famine in the land, to inconsequential personal descriptors such as poverty, stupidity, disability etc. Thus the angry God took hold of the people. The vengeful God whose arbitrary whims and guidelines had to be followed. The God who would smite you if you disobeyed, and leave you alone if you obeyed.  The God you could 'pray' to and have your petty issues resolved, without needing to seek audience with him (of course there was the matter of the medium's fee). People's sense of purpose was back. There was peace in the land again. There was a need to celebrate. How does one celebrate someone one can't perceive? Idols were born. The more passionate men grew about their own idols, the easier it was to convince them to go destroy the idols of others (and to waste their men and rape their women). The balance was restored again.

There was just one issue. Men started to notice that more often than not their prayers went unanswered. And the holy men never ran out of freshly farted logic or stories to explain misfortune. There were always explanations, but no action, so the God who was now one immobile piece of rock, was swiftly dealt with. But the comfort and convenience of having someone to blame everything on, and someone to pin your unreasonable hopes on is very addictive.

The holy men realised this right under the rocks that they were hiding beneath. They quickly modified the deal, repackaged and came out to sell again, like nothing had happened. And men who were reeling under the withdrawal of having their God taken away, quickly ran in to buy, like nothing had happened.

This time the package was different. They had  made up stories, to make it easy to relate to and to give the theories some roots in ancient civilization. And most importantly, the God now was benevolent. He was your friend and he would reward good behaviour and would always be around to guide you through your life. (The fact that he supposedly put you in this position for a variety of arbitrary reasons was to be discounted. As was the fact that he would screw your happiness, with no chance for redemption if you died, even by accident without having met the requirements). We of course had to invent the soul, else who would the benevolent God be talking to at the time of judgement, since you were long  deceased (or recently, depending on the shape of your particular holy man's hat).

Things have undergone a little change, but the large picture remains the same. People still ask stupid questions and and we run and find answers in the vague texts of religious scripture. What happens when we die? Correct answer - no one knows. But where's the fun in that? Where is the drama, the possibility of control and manipulation? How do I look smart when saying something like that? No. That cannot do. Let's cook up a story. Let's make up a thing called a soul (because we've all seen the body isn't very responsive post mortem, and definitely not very mobile), which goes to one of two imaginary places, post judgement by some imaginary self appointed judge. If we can weave control of people's entire lives in by pretending that they are a soul, which either plays harps sitting on clouds in the company of innumerable half naked, spectacularly beautiful women (or whatever makes your holy man tick) or is boiled in oil and/or roasted in fires at regular intervals (or whatever your holy man thinks scares you shitless) depending on whether they acted in accordance to a set of rules that they created on whim, or for the benefit of the realm, why not?

Of course with the advancement of science, the earliest set of questions that were provided a stupid answer to have been covered. Questions like the nature of the sun and stars and the earth have been answered, as have a lot of other questions that we were utterly clueless about in the beginning.

So may we give time a chance? Wait till we actually know answers before we go about announcing them? God forbid, No!! Let's make some up! Should we not intelligently question responses to our questions, especially when they concern matters like death which no one has come back from yet and others like the meaning of life which may not have a one size fits all answer?

Sadly, most of us would rather be misguided than lost.

Own

First snow is falling,
One flake at a time.
The sun right there,
To warm us all up.
I'm in my garden,
The grass is soft.
The birds sing above,
What a day to be shot.

My brother and father,
With me in a queue,
And the cold barrel,
Of a colt .22.

They're saving bullets,
The bloody pricks,
One for the three of us,
They're hoping that,
It will stick.

One look at my life,
And it is very clear,
It has all been a,
Colossal waste.
Dear oh dear!

Never saved the world.
No buildings no book,
Carry my name,
Not an art or craft,
I can claim to own.

Never even felt,
The warmth of a woman.
The weight of gold,
In my purse,
Or a song on my lips.

There will be no mourners,
Or roses at my grave,
Even the bullet that,
Snuffs out my life,
Will not bear my name.

They were right to think,
The big bad world,
Doesn't owe me a thing.
Cause it doesn't,
Not yet anyway.

This can't be it.
I couldn't even,
Die with myself.
Rage and hatred,
Calm my being.

This isn't it I promise,
As I kick out my
brother's legs,
From under him.
And the gun goes off.

Missing every head,
It finds a wall.
Before my brother,
Our assailant,
Completes his fall.

The adrenaline pumps,
As submission turns,
To brutal whim.
They didn't know what,
lay in store for them.

They never really,
Get over the shock.
Soon guns change owners,
And the original ones,
Have been shot.

Satisfaction flows over,
My butchered esteem.
As I watch the blood,
from their wounds gleam.
Payback is cleansing.

I raise my fist,
Up to the sun.
Swear never again,
Will have life won.
So this is what,
It feels like to own.

Flaming skull

The original pen and paper,  sharpened image and with a basic effect from kishan's iphone.

Snakes and ladders

Arm tattoo

Staple pins

Part III - Redemption

I left , my heart broken
but not spirit
I left on my quest
to search for a monster
the monster who'd first
taken my life
and now my love

I followed his fiendish trail
of destruction
through villages
and over mountains
dead beasts and birds
wasted men and trees
fire and blood all over

Soon i reached
village of the wise
unprotected
yet unspoilt
they can't see it
those who seek to destroy

I asked them for counsel
and they asked me to leave
for i was dead and
resurrected ,
and that is not a good omen ,
or so said these .
i begged for a clue
and the a wise one
pointed me to the door
but when i looked at him
i realized
That was the way i had to go

i flew along
the directed path
not stopping
to eat or rest
being resilient
With my weak body
was the toughest part
of this test

at the end of the
earth i spotted
the man who ransacked
the world
mine and many other's
who stories will never be told

I challenged him to a duel
and it was easier than i thought
hunger sharpened my senses
and anger intensified my wrath .
while he was spent
by his killing spree
and his mind broken
by forces , no human eye could see .
matching spell with
killer spell ,
i smashed him to the ground
and as he muttered a final curse
i bid he make no sound

And as i prepared to finish it
his last spell came to tell
and we both transported
back to the desert
back to the living hell
It was then i remembered
as I saw the orange light
there was some thing
the fiend could do
to make me spare his life

"release the girl of your curse"
i ordered him at length
he laughed a ghastly laugh
and said "just do it your self "
only when i'd taken
limb from limb ,
he revealed the secret to me
the secret more terrible
than the curse could ever be .
"The spell cannot be broken "
the wicked one said at last
it only loses it potency
once the person has passed .
I finished him and carried on
for one task still remained.

I knocked once more
upon the door
the door which changed
my destiny
And as she opened up
i took her in my arms
and she looked at me ,
like she knew me not
But she did not resist
As I gathered her into my arms
nor did she cry once
when the dagger came swishing down .

Part IV - The End

The end came quickly
as we were both transported
to the nether
the dagger fell ,
but didn't touch the ground
for both she and i
were around it .

And when i opened my eyes
she was back in the hut
for me to woo again
to begin over afresh ....

Part II - Loved and lost

I trudged along,
Through the frozed desert,
Desparately seeking shelter,
From the murderous winds.
I feared not death,
For only today
I had been struck down,
By a sorceror,
With a heart of black ice,
Yet I lived to fight again.

It was him I sought
to seek out and annhilate
for a monster such as he
should only be free
to roam in hell
I look for shelter after months
to rest and rejuvenate

At length i see a cottage
with a warm orange light
coming through a window
welcoming me inside
I hastened my step and
closed in the gap
reached upon the threshold
took a deep breath
i knocked upon the wooden door
with a question in my heart
The cottage sure was welcoming ,
but some thing sinister as well
What lay in store inside
Time alone would tell

My deep breath
struck in my guts
As the door opened
a little way and
before me she stood
a heavenly beauty
And I'd been staring
but what the hell

At length I asked
"I am a traveller
May I come in  ?"
"Please do" she said
a shy smile upon her face
As she turned and
walked inside .

She had me washed and clothed
and fed and rested
and as the weeks passed by
I fell in love with the house
and the lovely damsel inside
The larders were forever full
and the basins always overflowed
here in the middle
of this god forsaken desert
She seemed to speak
of no kith and kin
And her lonliness
only made me close in

Finally one day
I professed my love
and she said she felt the same
we united in an embrace
And my heart seemed to rest
our mouths met
and i felt complete.

We made love ,
amidst laughter and tears
Holy heaven ?  I thought
I was there !!
I chopped wood
and conjured trinkets
Unnecessary , trivial
Just to remind her that i cared

She'd be waiting for me
when i got back
and come into my arms .
we made love for ever
and knew not hunger
thirst or sleep
Horus melted away ,
time had lost its meaning
just the thought of her
made my nerves tingle ,
it electrified me.

Then that fateful night
she turned away as
as we lay together .
That was the last time
i saw love in her eyes 
before they turned lifeless gray
I had suspected
some thing was amiss
But i didn't know
it was so bad .
It was over ,just like that
extinguished in a flash

Suddenly i found my self
in the cold out side the house
the last words
she said to me
unfortunately were
"My father a soceror,
with a heart of black ice
Cursed me when he left this house
that i should never feel
true love inside
And I'm afraid that is true
and i feel nothing for you"

I fell to my knees
tears in my eyes
she was gone
when i looked again  
I never saw so much as a glimpse
Even as i stared through
the warm yellow glass...

Part I- Genesis

He flew across the desert,
Defeat writ large in his eyes,
Blood and scars everywhere.
His being was numb with pain,
And his mind joined in,
As he remembered the duel.
Had met his match today.

He winced as he recalled,
The fair young lad
Slash and stab with his sword.
And felt the neck,
Which the boy had wrung,
Till the wind had stopped to flow.
But treachery and old age,
Will always overcome
Youth and exuberance.
With a dark and evil spell,
The old sorceror had won.

He gloated over the boy's body,
Lifeless as it lay,
But an unknown fear,
Had chased him ever since
He'd set eyes upon the,
Corpse of the lad who had
Fought and nearly killed him
For a mere animal's life.

He had sought to bring
Peace to his mind.
So he conjured himself,
A cottage,
A little haven,
With a glowing light,
Protected from nature herself.

The sorceror walked,
Out of the cold,
Into the warm orange light.
And he lay at length,
In a bath,
As he was cleaned,
And his wounds healed.

A feast fit for a king,
Sat upon the table
But the sorceror
Could eat but a little
And couldn't drink
But a little wine
And there he lay in his bed
Tossing and wondering
What to do with himself .
What would set
His troubled mind to rest.

Healed and clad in heavy robes
He walked back out
Into the bitter cold
Stared with hatred
At the moon.
For its light
Bothered his eyes
So had some clouds ,
Cover it all up
To keep the light
From getting inside .

It was in that moment,
He created her,
Out of the frozen sand.
Her figure shaped.
At his wand's command.
And then he slashed his wrist,
And held it over her head,
And watched her come to life.

As the blood flowed,
First over her head,
And then through her veins,
He stepped back to inspect,
The most lovely creation in his name.
She was perfect,
From the tip of her hairs,
Down to every toe nail.

The body of a woman,
But the mind of a child.
She did not understand,
The sole purpose of her life.

Thus began the night,
of a thousand atrocities,
for the poor girl,
stupefied and shocked,
to the core,
by his unrepentant evil.

In the morning,
It dawned , upon the evil one,
his heart of black ice,
was still far from any rest,
so never to return,
he turned on his heel,
cursed and left .

3..Shooting star

My body's whole
I remember it all.
Every glorious battle we had won.
Except the last,
The least tricky of them all.
The one for the Kingdom of the Sun.
How had i fallen?
Baphomet's own ?
What has been started,
Must now be done.
No rock left unturned.

I prepare for battle once again.
Heavy armour,
Quiver, mace and bow .
Mighty roars,
And my mind below .
Raging on to take it all,
Reclaim what is my own .

I rouse the forces ,
Lo and behold ,
Your master lives ,
Take heart ,and march on .
Raging on to take it all ,
Take it back to where it belongs

They rise in hordes
My minions rise ,
Hot new blood gushing
Through their lives.
They believe once more,
They live to conquer,
They don their armour again.

War ensemble,
In the once deserted square
Lines of war,
As far as the eye can see.
Father arrives,
Here to give us the final command.

Before his majestic form,
My ego wilts.
His son, I am,
But a soldier nonetheless.
To live and die, by his side
Is my only wish

"Go forth and conquer" he says.
The force roars their approval.
Spilling into the air
Is their impatience for blood.
We start on the long perilious hike,
Black and gold our flag.
It infuses the passing air
With the poison that runs,
Gushes deep within our veins.

Enemy waiting at their gates ,
The fear of death rooted,
In their eyes, hearts and souls
Least they are aware of their fate,
Delusions no more.
Battle is short and sweet,
Guts and limbs lay in pools of blood.
Mostly all of theirs.

Victorious are our roars
As they scatter and retreat .
leaving to us what we had won.
As we take the castles and fields ,
Nay planets, and the beautiful earth.
For our own, the Kingdom of the Sun .

They raise their  heads ,
And behold their master .
He has returned,
The shooting star of yore .
He lives again against against all odds,
To march and conquer once more.

4..Deliverance

Victorious in battle,
we returned home.
As always
A few men less.
The feast was grand,
and beauties divine,
the intoxicants,
straight out of hell.

After a week of revelry,
We settled down,
Spent and satisfied .
But some thing i'd heard,
A "wise" one say,
Had stolen my peace of mind.
I felt compelled,
To sort the matter out,
Or i would never sleep again.
So i sought him out,
asked for an audience,
The pompous inbred swine ...

He greeted me with much ado.
He had to entertain.
For else , I being Baphomet's own,
He would lose his head
In the bargain .
With the rituals done,
And wine inside ,
He asked me to begin.
But when i asked him,
what his words had meant,
he lightly brushed me aside.

"I was drunk " he lied.
And last, weak strand,
Of my patience snapped.
"Don't lie "I roared,
As i lifted him by his throat
clear off the floor.
He felt the blade at his neck
And wrath throbbing in my arms
And the words began to flow.

You were sacrificed.
On the battle ground.
The word came from
Lucifer himself.
The war was won that time,
Though was the battle lost then.

The ground seemed to slip
From beneath my feet,
As it dawned upon me,
I had been used
To meet a trivial end.
The dastardliness of the act,
Brought my blood to a boil .
I thought and pondered,
But there was nothing,
That i could tell myself,
So it all seemed justified .

It was over i decided,
No more me for Him.
I would leave this land,
Live my other life once again.
And as as i reached a portal
I heard his voice
"And where is it we are going ?"
As i told him that i knew it all,
That his vile plan,
Had been revealed.
The unrepentent evil
Of his revolting smile,
Never ceased to drive
Me to chagrin.

At length he spoke
With no emotion
Nothing short of pride.
"Well at least now
You are certainly aware
That you're entitled to no goodbyes
I'm your lord and master
You're mine to use as i wish
mine to discard when i like "

With the veil of love
Shattered and gone
I could see clearly .
All the fraudulent praise
And the glamour days
Oh what a bloody fool
I had been .

But then i saw it
My last chance at deliverance,
From the loathsome
Hands of this fiend .
I bid him good bye with a smile
And for the first time,
Since his creation
The malice and pride in his face
Were replaced by confusion.
I uttered a curse,
Which to his dismay,
Was directed not at him but me.

As my body burst into flames
And metal shackles
closed around my throat
I uttered my last words
"Go to hell."
And I watched with satisfaction,
As the ethereal flames,
Consumed my body,
Down to every last detail.

He fell to his knees,
In accepted defeat,
He owned the body,
But not the soul.

Budget airlines - scam or sham?

Not to sound 'down market', but as a child, I clearly remember being thrilled about every flight. It was not just about getting somewhere in a hurry. In fact, the longer the flight the better. Every bit of it, the take off, the turbulence and the landings were thrilling. The in-flight meals were a delight. The air hostesses, though a little older and heavier, were thorough professionals.

There were always delays, but once upon a time, they didn't just say that they regret the inconvenience caused. They showed you that they were sorry, maybe even cared. They felt the need to make it up to you - compensatory meals and hotel stays were common. You didn't need to be the Queen of England to be able to carry a decent amount of baggage.

The feel of good service extended to the airports. Thin crowds, an inkling of more than mundane purpose, an air of exclusivity even, accentuated by crisp, polished and cheerful announcements, an abundance of trolleys and polite airline and airport staff defined an airport.

Train journeys didn't really make the cut.

Then someone had a vision (rather myopic in my opinion). Everyone must have access to air travel. The airlines must make money on passenger volumes on wafer thin margins. The number of players must increase. The airlines should break even, nay make a profit. After all with the entire populace of this enormous nation in the air (a bone chilling thought to start with) and paying for it, what could prevent
the airlines from booking profits?

Following closely on the heels of the vision, came the implementation. An airspace with two primary operators suddenly had a dozen. We now needed staff to handle the increased volume of work. Schools to train airport staff, air stewards and air hostesses opened up in every
four foot by four foot space available in the city (that this created a class of relatively illiterate people with a river of liquid cash is another story).Highways choked and died carrying people to the airports because now every one could fly.

Got an urgent meeting across the country? No problem! Take a flight (point to be noted, you always could). Squeeze more fun into your holidays by reducing the travel time - take a
flight. This was relatively new. Family function? Fly there. Just bored? Take a flight. Drives are so last year. It was fun for a bit. Till we realized everyone still couldn't afford to fly. And the air lines were still in the red. And we couldn't fix
our infrastructure fast enough (surprise?). And now every thing was a mess.

The airports look like our ST bus stops (though thankfully cleaner). Find an empty trolley, with functioning wheels and brakes (needle in a
hay stack). Queue up to get your baggage scanned. Queue up to check in. Deal with overworked disgruntled airline staff, whose only skill is to tell you in an unnecessary, phony accent that they're sorry, and that's about all they're capable of doing to help the situation. And that is when they're feeling polite. Passengers (now also called guests) are routinely asked to 'kindly' step out of the queue because a trivial issue prevents them from being checked in within the next thirty
seconds.

Flights still get delayed, but now unless you have a 4 hour delay, admitted upfront (which is a rarity, since ETDs are pushed ahead 10 minutes at a time) you can't really hope for compensation or even a meal. At least the airports can stay in business by selling refreshments at astronomical rates. Ever notice the hundred rupee samosa at the airport tastes slightly worse than the four rupee samosa on the footpath? The announcements made by hurried attendants are vying with the railway stations for the 'least clarity and correctness of language' award at the transport hall of shame.

Once on board you scurry to find place for your luggage, which may or may not be available, since the single piece of luggage rule is as pliable as putty.

The Air Hostesses run through the safety instructions charade and are ever so often confused about the name of the destination (I'm sure giving a lot of grannies heart attacks, because they seldom correct themselves).

The seats. Where does one even begin? It'll suffice to say, do I really need to buy first class seats (if and when they're available) to find a place to put my elbows and stretch out my legs and not smell the under arm sweat of a fellow passenger?

The food not being covered by the fare is alright because not every one is hungry or capable of eating on a flight. But when one does choose to buy 'in flight refreshment' does it really have to be clammy and cold? Does the chicken have to taste like rubber and the cucumbers like snot and the coffee like dish wash?
Do I really need to help gather the trash afterwards?

I understand that the vast majority of Indians lack basic toilet training and etiquette, but isn't that something you need to factor in when staffing your air craft so the 'guests' don't need to find out what the guest who used the toilet before them had ordered for lunch?

On a good day, when you move like a ninja through the river of crap, there is still nothing you can do to prevent them from destroying a piece of baggage. Rip it up, ruin the stroller, smash in a corner, or just let it show up open, so your never sure if someone has been through your things. Even if you have one bag ruined every couple of trips, the cost is more than the full fare of the flight. Gone are the days when they used to accept responsibility for manhandling your baggage, and replace or repair bags if they ruined them.

The list is never ending. Luckily international flights still retain some of their earlier glory. But it's no wonder that trains seem to be a more appealing mode of transport nowadays...

Good Old Days

Minute after minute
Day upon day
I sit, I reminisce
About the beauty
The simple joys
Of yesterday

long walks on the beach
The shared street food, yes please
Crazy Saturday nights
Lazy Sunday afternoons,  at least

You hold the bucket 

of memories
Always, it's heavier than before

It's true what they say, my dear

You age in experiences
Not in years!

The yesterday
And the tomorrow
Hold so much allure
We forget to live
Right now
Delegate the living
Some more 

like all of life's little truths
It's so simple, it is scary

We tried to look at it

Every which way

But Today, right now
is the tomorrow's
good old days