Sunday, October 18, 2009

Marriages are made in Heaven /

Coming back to my own blog is like, well, coming back to my own blog. Nothing describes it better. And recently I've been pestered by something every man fears most- MARRIAGE. Don't get it the wrong way folks. No girl with the smallest proportion of her senses left, will ever think of marrying me and neither will my parents indulge themselves in such a criminal activity.

Let's get down to business straightaway, as I am a man who hates to even think of wasting time, that I opt to do away with the thinking part. Seriously, I do have a lot of useful things to do (the denial of which has made me useless- and hence the BLOG NAME), and since I'm devoting a substantial quantity of my time, money (BLOGGER website may be free, but the blogger who uses this site is, of course, a taxpayer) and energy to this post, enduring harsh climate, perilous hunger and most importantly unbearably vulgar curses from my dad, you must have understood by the way that this post is extremely important. (I'm offering a gold coin as a gift to those who could decode the above paragraph)

Coming back to the point, no girl has ever disturbed me with a proposal of marriage. But this being a black-mark on my bachelor life in itself, is not so abrasive as matrimonial sites. Yes. Matrimonial sites besides being kind and service-minded enough to physically, mentally and financially couple two of the most unsuited and inappropriate human beings on the earth, attempt to attract others who are at a safe distance from them (Myself being the latest victim).

I received a text message in my cell phone very recently from a sender who is so scared to reveal his identity that he put up irrelevant alphabets together, as his name. But i was sure I could understand the last set of letters. They spelled something like marry. Since I never had a contact of a person whom I can proudly call a girlfriend (I'm sorry guys. I don't have the guts), I decided to save the message in my SIM card permanently. After 2 days, out of sheer curiosity, I opened the message. It started like this: 1000s of girls. Speak to me frankly fellas. What would you do if you get to have a date, or at least a formal meet with a 1000 (or a 100 or at least 1) girls? I'd probably faint down or I'd need a pacifier to control myself. But the proceeding contents immediately open-circuited my excitement. The text was:
profiles at your convenience. 100% genuine contacts. Privacy guaranteed.

Just like any ordinary boy, I deleted the message from my Saved Messages folder with a tiny bit of pain in my heart. Next, I actually visited the site and some others which offered to bless me with my life-partner at extremely low costs. (What do they know? All the expenditure begins after marriage). I never intended to sign up to any of those sites and even before that I can fill a blog with all the calamities the sites are capable of causing. And I promise to tell you (at the end of this post) something else from that sms which I forgot to tell you earlier intentionally. Here it goes:

# The very home page of the site showed some beautiful women (very beautiful indeed) as applicants to that site, searching for their TALL, DARK & HANDSOME guy (Hello, ladies!). The one thing that struck me in the forehead is, they were all posing with different intentions (like holding small deepaks, etc.). Why would someone show their beauty off on such private(!) sites? When I placed the mouse over her (The mouse here is the mouse pointer and nothing else), her photo blew up displaying her name (which sounded totally tamilian, but I bet on my shaven moustache that she is not one), age, language and caste. With a shock, I realised some of the women were models! (I've seen them in The Chennai Silks ad)

# The next thing that caught my eye was the picture of a couple. In that picture, either the couple were so entwined in each other like they were about to be engaged in, you know what... Or the woman was squishing the man's neck and the man, who would probably die any minute, was screaming for help! God knows what happened to that man later. But the funny thing is this. There were a few lines of text, mentioning the identity of the pair (as Mr and Mrs XXX) and a quote:

It was in XXXmatrimony that I found my darling from 10000000 people. Thanks XXXMatrimony for making my life happier!

I would like to tell you that the XXX used here is supposed to mean 'anonymous' and not what is running in your mind. And that the lines were quoted by the lady in the photo (who was holding her husband at the verge of death). That's because men, though not very honest all the time, cannot afford to spit out fibs of such great magnitude. My personal opinion is that they didn't make a good couple (a perfect example of the organisation's service). What else can I say?

# The searches provided in the site were hilarious. They had radio buttons for gender, text boxes for name and drop-down lists for language and caste. I cooked up some searches myself and what i found out was this. Either the search results contained photos of similar faces or there were no faces at all... Weird! You find photos of various boys and girls on the ad of these sites throughout the Internet and none of them in the search results...

# Next comes genuineness. GENUINENESS, as you may know, denotes how genuine a person actually is. I mean, I don't know if genuineness is ANALOG or DIGITAL, implying that I don't know if it is CONTINUOUS or DISCRETE. Understood? Once my dad told me that his dad, on the advice of his dad, went on his GRAIL QUEST which is totally equal to the search for his better half. He had to cross several villages by foot, to land on another village for the பெண் பார்க்கும் படலம். He had asked for directions to the destination and the bolts of the village extracted from him the A-Z of his arrival and, in return, had given a testimonial like a certificate of conduct (over)qualifying the girl. Overwhelmed, my grandpa destined himself with the girl, now my grandma.
Later my dad told me how my grandpa repented for the mistake and expressed his desire to tear those bolts to shreds if he ever got a chance. But the bolts had worn themselves off existence by doing the same stuff over and over again. He also told me of the troubles my grandpa and grandma faced together (mostly because of each other). My grandma later told me about the troubles she and her husband had faced because of my dad. And with the knowledge of basic arithmetic, I can very well claim that the former was negligible when compared to the latter. It must be noted that my grandpa had chosen the first girl he had to meet.
Next came my dad. The situation is exactly the same, except for that the village was replaced by an apartment and the bolts were replaced by my mom's friends and colleagues. I am witness to the troubles my parents face... Again, my dad chose the first girl of the list. From keen observation and logical analysis, I had, once, come to the idea that i should never choose the first girl when my turn comes, no matter how great she is. But gradually, I understood that my dad and his, did not make their marriages by choice, they did it rather because of force. A force that, if they had not given in, would have made them lead a Brahmachari life (See? It's not totally my fault. I'm relieved of most of my burden, for if you're reading this post now, it's probably the mistake of my dad and granddad). The NO GIRL WOULD EVER CONSIDER YOU gene must have been transferred to my grandpa and then to my dad and to me. So, no options for you.

But the point is, they had someone standing idly grazing on info of their would-be and delivering it to them. What the hell am I supposed to do? The matrimonial site says that it is ISO 9001:2000 certified and that privacy is guaranteed by e-Trust. The site is trustworthy, says Verisign. So who am I supposed to ask? It is ridiculous that the sites compete with each other on the basis of maximum number of successful marriages (They should probably compete in the maximum number of successful divorces!)

Lastly, as I said earlier, I'm going to disclose the final words of that sms. It said:
Sign up and get married soon. Free!

It sounds like GET WELL SOON, but it's more of like GET KILLED SOON or something!
Marriage is a serious commitment. And in a world of people moving very fast towards everything, this is just another thing... That's all. It must be given the seriousness it deserves, for one wrong turn will turn your life upside down. And, not getting too legally, divorces, as i feel, are to some extent caused by this indifferent attitude. So think well before you act. Last but not least, I'm grateful to God and the Matrimonial site that sent me that sms, for the msg was decent enough. It wasn't like:

Sign up and get laid soon. Free!

Saturday, October 3, 2009

The name is Bond

In India, we have a strong principle by which everyone works. This principle is so strictly followed, that it is commonly called the MPGD principle. No, I am in no way intending to mean MPs or GDs, as you may know, both are powerfully attractive in the beginning and brutally severe in the end (Actually, THAT is the end). This principle is the Matha-> Pitha-> Guru-> Dheiyvam (மாதா-> பிதா-> குரு-> தெய்வம்) principle. (Mind you, the arrow marks indicate the hierarchy in which you encounter the 4 cardinals. Mess with the order and you'll end up being as unfortunate as myself).

This principle has its greatest tornado in the word GURU. This is so because, hey, have you noticed that the word Guru is not accompanied by the red squiggly line, whereas the others are? Also, it is the Guru who plays the part of the moulder and the guide who brings you up with such care, that one day, you'll qualify to be a person capable of screwing up your own life, without the smallest help of anyone on this planet, or any of the other 8 or 7 planets.

Thinking of principles also made me think of PRINCIPALS. The various Principals of various schools I've come across in life. But believe me I'll be credible.

The first Principal I ever came across was Mr. Kandaswamy, Sri Vaani Vidhyalaya. There's nothing much to tell about him because, i feel
-He is a man of few words (very few, indeed).
-I'm scared of him to this date.
-He did very little to bring on my wrath unlike someone else.
Truly speaking, this person is one of the many i respect from my heart. He speaks flawless Tamil in a striking voice that i wondered, as a kid, what would happen if sir (that shows my respect, doesn't it?) and Kamal Hassan indulged themselves in a war of words.

The next person is Mrs. Lakshmi, Mowbrays. I knew so little of her, that this blog will be incomplete even if i write 10 pages (I'm an engineer, mind it!)
She has
-a tongue for superb English
-an eye for mischievous students
-a word of encouragement for achievers and
-an unexplainably bizarre way of managing the school.
Another person i respect. She was an Aringarosa to Silases like me, saving us from the clutches of ragging (Believe it or not, I've tasted ragging when i was in 6th grade).

Last, but not the least, comes the one, the only Dr. K. Vasudevan, Prince Matric. I can write a book about him and, given i don't incur any losses, a library about his practices and way of life in his school. Since i picked up most of what i have today from his school, I will write a lot about him. So, if you think you don't have time to waste, just close the window, or at least this tab, or navigate away from this page, or do whatever.

I don't know the answers for many questions about this great, great man who manages 3 schools and 3 colleges in South Chennai today. Some are:

1. Why does he stare at the students or parents along the sides of his spectacles. I mean, i've never seen him use his spectacles for any spectacular purpose. If that pair of glasses seems to be an obstruction to sight, why not just throw it away?

2. He calls the parents of students for receiving the scrutinised answer sheets of the main term exams. That's probably because the students have inevitably won a vote of no confidence of his. But, he doesn't even seem to look at the parents who have come all the way from their homes or workplaces, leaving behind them, tons of fatally important work on paper or in front of the TV. If the students are so unreliable, why not make the parents write the tests? Or at the least, let the parents utter a word or two?

3. There is one hour for physical education every week and it's one of the most senseless thing attached to this school (The others, you'll see). The students are asked, or instead, forced to clad themselves in white (the colour you would see in RIN Advanced ad). The games you can probably see are kabaddi, koko and some other stupid games (which, even your great great great great grandfather felt they were outdated, when he was a kid) in a small playground (which is a remodelled bicycle stand; unfit to be called a playground). The children drench themselves in sweat and blood, in the exact centre of the day, only to find their elbows bruised and their shirts torn and stained with mud. கரை நல்லதா? My school has never even thought of producing sportsmen (fit not even for inter-school sports events). Then why waste precious time, money, energy and other resources when the whole world is struggling hard to save them? Is it just for recognition by the govt.? Can't you just replace the P.T. hour by another regular classroom lecture?

4. Then comes the APPLICATION FOR LEAVE drama. The student's grandma who is in a distant city has demised and it is critical that the boy must go (with the customs of நெய்ப்பந்தம் and all). It is for the boy to either take leave uninformed or not take leave at all.
Boy: Sir, I need to go to Bangalore to see my dead grandma and perform her last rites.
Sir: Don't worry. Your grandma will be fine.
Boy: No sir, she won't be fine. She's dead!
Sir: Your absence from the cremation will not be as dangerous as that from the class.
Boy(sobbing): But sir?
Sir: Ok, i'll give you a day's leave, but if you take more than that, you'll be suspended from the school for 10 days!
What do you know? The boy actually needs around 10 days and he couldn't ask his princi for anything more. And after the 10 days? The boy needs to summon his parents in front of the principal's desk (when the principal is actually out of his office... Busy guy!) and wait for ages until the clerk hands them a small mutilated piece of paper on which is written PERMITTED. An hour's wait just to get a stupid slip, which the boy can very well furnish on his own!!

5. The next one and my most favourite one is the concept of PAPER-MONEY. Newbies, don't think I'm a fool (or do). Currency in our country (all denominations) , is made from paper, but this relatively puzzling term has nothing to do with that. Despite the huge sums of money collected as tuition fees, special fees, term fees, lab fees, library fees, etc., etc., etc. there is one more untold malpractice of collecting fees for the sheets provided to students to fill up with rubbish during exams (Mind you, the sheets offered are worse than those used for flyers and the question papers? Well, even Robert Langdon will not be able to decipher them). This is just like a traffic policeman collecting fine from a person who has not adorned his helmet, not to mention the person is a cyclist... Got it?

6. Next comes the petty case of library. Teachers of Prince matric, please lend me your ears. I happen to learn (and not study or read) engineering, accommodating myself in hostel. My room-mate once told me that he used to sit in the library of his school, for hours together, reading physics books written by multifarious authors (He had also won TROPHIES (not silly bric-a-brac gifts) for being in the library for the maximum number of hours, reading the maximum number of books in the school library, for 3 consecutive years!!!). He asked me about the library of my school and when i occured to say it didn't have one, he laughed his guts out. A SCHOOL THAT HAS GIVEN OUT A LOFTY NUMBER OF STATE TOPPERS HAS NO LIBRARY? Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

7. And the late-runners are the laboratories. Almost no equipment works properly and we were forced to make the best of what is available (Nothing is the answer, as you may have guessed it). What's the lab fee for then? (Well, i think it goes to some poverty-struck family in Zambia, or much worse, to our government). The physics lab has almost no ammeters or voltmeters in working condition; the chemistry lab is always in short of chemicals; the computer science lab is a hysterical comedy (I happened to install Windows XP and Ubuntu distro of Linux on a few systems of the lab myself, when I was in 12th) and I don't know much about the biology lab (How much trouble can you get in? All the animals there are dead).

8. Next is the actual Guru's point of view. I don't exactly know if the teachers get proper wages (But by the looks on their faces and their temper, i kind of figured out that they work for peanuts). I've heard of some schools having separate staff-rooms for every department. In Prince, they are denied the word ROOM (Imagine: You don't even have room to breathe, and you ask for a staff room? Very funny). The only thing, i think, that keeps the teachers cool is the 10 o clock tea (that is cold enough to lower the teacher's temperature as well).

9. The DIARY-SIGNATURE system. Many of us (before or after our prince days) would have had the habit of writing diaries (i actually did). But this, is absolutely different. The principal makes (supposed to) the student read (not study) for 6 hours everyday and the student gets (supposed to) his parent's witness that he actually touched a textbook. The result is this. Either the parents understand the child enough to sign the diaries without care or the boy saves the parent the trouble of taking a pen and scribbling something on the diaries, in ancient Egyptian script, only themselves calling it a signature (Trust me, I've done both). The age-old dialogue "You are not cheating us; Instead, you are cheating yourselves" is not going to get you anywhere. Accept it, the students get smarter every year (unlike teachers)!

10. And another insane of insanes is the vesting of powers to Aayahs or the last-stage labourers. I feel that even the teachers are denied powers the Aayahs have. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. This is one proverb sir hates. Even in work, the students don't acquire perfection. A good example being that I've not seen a PN diode when I was in school, whereas my class mates had seen diodes, transistors, ICs, etc. and they even knew the statistical info about them. What good is a textbook when one actually doesn't see or furthermore, understand what is truth? Eyeing on petty, silly, insane things has made Dr. Vasudevan (The word 'Doctor' here sounds very much like the 'Doctor' in VasoolRaja MBBS) lose track of what is important. And i don't know know why guys at school call him Bond (He is no James Bond).

11. The next is the HOLIDAY HOMEWORK agenda. Students are forced to write answers for the same set of questions; the questions for which they didn't know the answers when they were in the exam hall. I'd personally be neutral about this. But the aftermath is painfully stupid. The teachers, besides assessing the crap the student wrote in the exam, also scrutinise the holiday homework papers. The student has obviously copied his copy of the work from the copy of a friend of his, who had copied it earlier from the copy of another friend and is trading off his copy of the paper for the copy of another one (The repeated usage of the word COPY should be noted here as it does sound synonymous with the process). The deal looks pretty simple and genuine, but it doesn't serve any purpose. Instead, the students can be made to write formulae or numerical problems. But I tell you, I'm neutral.

12. This is the most important of all. The exorbitant fees collected, I don't really know where it goes (Must be something adopted from the movie SIVAJI, where the director plays on money like a child on sand). If a student requires to get TC from the school in the middle of the year, or say the day after acquiring admission, he is supposed to pay the fees for the entire year. One word will describe this perfectly- BARBARIAN.

This is just the tip of the iceberg (and a colossal one at that...) about Dr. K. Vasudevan and his SCHOOL THAT WORKS WONDERS. I really like Vasudevan sir and respect him a lot (Seriously... Running an institution is not a small thing and this guy is a MASTERMIND in school administration), but these things keep haunting me. Why would a person like him support the aforesaid malpractices when he can really educate the students in a sensible way (and avoid jerks like me posting shit on blogs)? Now, I declare to you all, that as long as this school exists, this post will grow. And that's not my fault either...

At ease! At ease!! It has occurred to me to extend this post beyond what is necessary. Not just any reason, my brethren... Vasu saet has done it again... It's been doing the rounds recently that a boy of class 6 of our very same school has attempted to culminate his life. And that too for a hilariously trivial reason.

13. TO BE, OR NOT TO BE... THAT IS THE QUESTION. It is being spoken that a boy of class 6 has jumped off the 2nd floor of our school building. It seems that the boy has obviously forgot to take with him to school, a textbook. The teacher has caught him red-handed (How red is that? You actually don't have anything in your hand!) and slightly deviating from the routine of making the boy stand out of the class for an hour, she has ordered him to bring his parents with him (along with the textbook that he forgot) the next day (Apart from making the boy stand outside the class). Afraid of the consequences (and the teachers) that await him if he brings his parents along, the boy has decided to diminish himself. A wise lesson the school has taught him- "If you can't beat them, join them. If you can't join them, join someone else". I guess it was never difficult for him to choose whom to join. No reports of any case being filed on whosoever has been recorded (Possibly not!). The boy is safe with minor injuries, including a fracture in his leg. Listen to me kid! The next time you wanna send someone to kingdom come, make sure:
i) That it's not you.
ii) And that you take adequate measure to accomplish your task. The 2nd floor is not so dangerous it proves...


This is supposed to certify that this blog is supposed to be about microprocessors.

Microprocessor: A microprocessor incorporates most or all of the functions of a (CPU) on a single integrated circuit (IC). The first microprocessors emerged in the early 1970s and were used for electronic calculators, using binary-coded decimal (BCD) arithmetic on 4-bit words. Other embedded uses of 4- and 8-bit microprocessors, such as terminals, printers, various kinds of automation etc, followed rather quickly. Affordable 8-bit microprocessors with 16-bit addressing also led to the first general purpose microcomputers in the mid-1970s.

Yes, that's right. At least that's what wikipedia says what a microprocessor is. But this is not about microprocessors or wikipedia. This is about our tryst with microprocessors.

We have a subject on microprocessors and micro-controllers for the 5th sem. And we have a great stalwart to teach us all about that little rascal inside ATX cabinets throwing error reports on the screens- the very microprocessor or µP as it is called fondly by its loyal fans.

We are supposed to have 45 hours on the subject. And that was our first class.
The guy came and told us a few words about the Intel 8085. He told us what a microprocessor is and about some computers and odd. That day, i was amazed to know all that and my interest towards those little workers sitting on our motherboards shot out.
The next day was on the architecture of 8085. I didn't know if we were ready to take it, but it just happened. The next class the gladiator who is supposed to tackle 62 anxious engineers didn't turn up. And so didn't, the next class, the next class and on...

At times, he used to come to class and just sit on the benches as one among us. One must appreciate his down-to-earth attitude. He said that he had his project to complete (as he was doing M.E. in the same college as i did) and in further classes he put forth his bold and logical statement- "WHY SHOULD I TEACH YOU? WHAT DO I GET IN RETURN? DO YOU THINK I DON'T HAVE ANY USEFUL WORK TO DO?"

Of course, what he spoke made us think...
And that bravado walks on the lairs of my college with his sweetheart (who by the way is as repulsive as the wicked witch who comes in THE WIZARD OF OZ. See that our rambo thinks she is the most beautiful woman on the earth. Now, imagine what he looks like...)

With about 40 classes over without an entry into µP, our sem is gonna culminate and there he is... Our Mr. Know-it-all, boasting, "IF I TEACH YOU µP, IT WILL BE LIKE READING A HUGE GK BOOK ON THE SUBJECT". Salutes to the great soul...

P.S: Only obscenely offensive comments allowed.

Also, due to extreme fear of my college life hazards, I've forbidden myself from publishing this post for about 4 months. Now that I have brought out 71 marks from 10 sheets of paper and almost zero knowledge on Microprocessors, I've decided to publish this post, no matter what the consequences.

May I come in?

I wish to bring my entry into the world of blogging with a disclaimer. Here it goes.

What you see in my blog is my work and solely belong to my intellectual property (Now don't ask me what intellect is. We both don't know what the heck that is). All work of mine may not actually be my own work (Got it?). Any coincidence to anything you've seen, heard, touched, smelled, tasted or felt with some extra sensory perception implies that you have some incurable chronic mental disorder and that i don't have to care to do anything about it. And lastly, if you think what i post is great, aye.. we think alike. And if you don't, i don't see you going anywhere... (Then why else would you come here?)

And here i step in. Beware! I'm catchy!