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Things are never clear........but i am expected to focus. Its like a soup out there.............................people also call it "life". hahh!! Of course it is full of stuff. Lets not talk about love; too complex and tedious.
Four years with pencils and lines wasn't that bad. It was scary in the beginning........afterall i wasnt supposed to do it, i didn't slog for it. It was a compromise with which i learnt to live, and eventually liked to a certain extent. The hard work and time invested has given it some value. It is now something I don't want to leave point-blank. But still cannot see myself doing it for the rest of my time. Is this a student mid-life crisis :) ?

Summer pics

A compressed album......................there were many more buildings :P

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/niks269

Diary #??

I labeled my previous post “Champaign Diary #1” with steep expectations of updating it regularly with #2,3,4 etc etc. Urghhh….I am a lazy bum…QED !
Sight seeing in Champaign was limited to the nearby Indian Grocery store called Annapoorna, which had a decent collection of Hindi DVDs, calling cards, frozen paranthas, frozen samosas, frozen everything for people who just cannot go beyond the microwave. Another exciting place was the CVS store(it is like a younger sibling of the Walmart, located at every street corner throughout the country), where I used to get into the homely-domestic mode, pushing the trolley through aisles and looking for cereal, 2% fat milk(hehe), bread, chips. I could instantly visualize myself as the helpful, caring life partner every woman dreams of.
I went to Chicago again over the third weekend. It was even better than the first time, even though I broke many records when it came to going around. I took a one and half hour boat tour through the Chicago river, saw three museums, went to a planetarium right next to Lake Michigan, attended a baseball match(Chicago White Sox vs Houston Astros………….as if I care :) , and also watched a movie, all in one day. Even though I was dead tired, it was nice to walk around the downtown, using the subway, talking to random people at the roadside café. It felt funny to just sit sipping great coffee, watching other people rush here and there, having all the time in the world.
The next week in Champaign was in a way eventful. My roomie’s friend just got her dissertation accepted and there was party at home. It was my first house party, and of course I was curious ;) The best thing was the unlimited supply of beer, and the house was full of people who just needed 2 bottles to open up. It was interesting to be the only twenty year old among thirty somethings. We talked, danced and got wasted :D
Work meanwhile was becoming more and more hectic. After trying to get an idea of TRACE 700, I was given a lot of data to streamline and convert it into graphs for analysis. It was all familiar MS Excel which wasn't such a problem. I also worked on a lighting modeling software called Lithonia which calculates things like max, min, average lumens on various surfaces with a particular lighting arrangement. After two days of searching google for various luminaires and doing a lot of guesswork(intuition :)) I showed the results to Ben. He said “hmmm…ahmmmm…….good job”. Americans they say are dumb.

Champaign diary#1

I was standing at Customs in IGIA…..my suitcase relaxing in the aircraft’s belly. The officer looked at me, scrutinizing and trying to find similarities with the photo on the passport(The pic is almost 8 years old, pink chubby cheeks and all, he was bound to be surprised) . Relax dude….I am from your country , I felt like saying. The flight was pretty long, with no stoppage at Frankfurt or London like the good old days. To add to that, the seat besides me was empty, which of course is a nice thing from comfort point of view but keeping quiet for 15 hours was something new. An aunty sat with me for sometime. I have this talent of hitting off immediately with middle aged women. She was an English teacher in DPS RKP who asked a lot of questions. Why are you going there? Where do you study? Oooooo….you are the IIT category..nice nice. We in general discussed the CBSE curriculum, high school education system blah blah. Meanwhile, I saw her alpha male getting red with fury. Is my charm a gift or curse?
The flight landed on time, exactly 5:15 am at O’Hare Airport, Chicago. Flight to Champaign was to leave at 11 o’clock, which left me plenty of time to wander around. I went outside the terminal building to look for cigarettes. I asked a guy as to where can I find them. He didn’t have a clue, but offered me one of his own. God bless him ! Then went on to look for a telephone card to call mom and inform her that I am okay and in good health.
Champaign reminded me of some place familiar, where I spend 8 months of my life every year…..yaa….kgp. It is a university town, with nothing much except that. Chicago plays the role of Cal, being just 2 hours away. But of course it is devoid of any dirt, bad roads, places like cheddis(sad huh) etc. It is like those small American towns, with green avenues, wooden houses and country music that we see in movies so often. I dumped my luggage in the apartment, met the roomies, and since it was like a long weekend, decided to go to Chicago. The railway station was at a walking distance and there wasn’t a soul there. The reservation counter was empty, and when the dude arrived, he seemed elated...like seeing someone after a very longtime. The train was as expected vacant, with more staff than passengers.
After disembarking from the Union Station, I took a cab for my uncle’s place in downtown. Usual queries about the flight, time of stay were asked and replied to immediately. It seemed like a recorded message. After freshening up, my next stop was somewhere in downtown where I saw a red double Decker open bus. I don’t remember the exact location as the bus was sufficient to divert my attention. I took one of those city tours, full of Chinese tourists with digital cameras. We saw many famous houses, mainly those of Oprah Winfrey, Michael Jordan etc. Oprah’s house seemed out of place being a bungalow amidst high rises…..portraying her image as someone who is down to earth and sensitive. Bullshit !!! She lives in a huge penthouse on top of a 100 storey skyscraper!! Another great thing to see was the old office of Al Capone.
Downtown Chicago is like the opening statement of modern architecture(gotta thank MB for that funda). Everything from neo-gothic to slick glass and steel showcased itself. The most wonderful place was surely Lakeshore drive. Lake Michigan on one side, with luxury yachts and tons of greenery. Enough of tourism….I sound like a guide !!
I also went on top of the Sears tower and heard all its praises like how it “used to be” the tallest building in the world and still in one category out of four, it IS the tallest building etc etc. Be happy guys....it still is pretty TALL :) The top was disappointing because they had a stupid gallery surrounded with glass instead of the open thing. After all that, and a lot more, I went back to Champaign to finally get started.
Roomies were nice…pretty and helpful (I wanted to write “pretty helpful” but after adding the “and” by mistake….it still is a true statement :P). My abode was all stripped down with nothing besides a futon frame, but there was a slick attached bathroom, so considering the hierarchy of spaces in terms of importance, I didn’t complain. On May 28th, I went to meet my prof. Now this guy looked cool, wearing three quarters and moving around on a cycle. He showed me the lab and introduced me to everyone. He then started discussing what I was supposed to work on with another guy. Tricky questions followed:

“What do you plan to achieve out of your stay here Nihkill ?”
“Have you worked on energy simulation programs before?”

I gave some middle of the road general replies, and they concluded that I should start learning TRACE 700, an energy simulation program with the help of a 400 page manual. Hence, my future was decided :D
The program was interesting and I used to get breaks from it when Ben(my boss) gave some other work like preparing spreadsheets or streamlining electrical, water supply data to plot graphs. After office, I went to the downtown in order to try a new restaurant every day. On the third day, I went to this place called “The Bombay Grill” to get some Indian food. But this place served the stereotypical crap, with loads of butter,curry and every gora asking just one thing,”1 chicken tika masala please" :) A chaotic incident took place at McDonalds the day after. Now guys I am a shudh shakahari. I have alwways been...untempted to jump on the other side. Hence I looked at the menu and ordered the safe sounding Double Cheeseburger. I concluded that if they have mentioned a minor ingredient like cheese, surely cheese is THE only thing it has. After having ¾ th of it, I just looked at the covering paper which said “100 % pure beef I’M LOVIN IT!”. What a smashing debut !! This can more or less sum up my first few days here.

dreams

I like to dream. They make my nights eventful. It is like a television is switched ON while you slowly doze off. You acknowledge the sounds but rarely try to make anything out of them. Dreams have often led to interesting conversations with my friends in kgp. They go along excellently with things like cigarettes and tea, which are abundant there. I am very sure I was dreaming that morning when mom woke me up. I can't remember what, but it was something pleasant. I was smiling while opening my eyes. It went away immediately. My grandfather had collapsed on the breakfast table. We laid him on my bed....his eyes still open. The doctor was called. After couple of injections, thumping of chest, ECG scans........he announced that he was no more. My grandfather was not doing well for the past couple of years. He was 82 and every problem that comes with old age were bothering him. To be honest, I wasn't very saddened by his death. Ever since his health deteriorated, he had become indifferent towards everyone around him, and so had I. My relationship with him was like that of an old friend, with whom I had lost touch. I only met him when my mother told me to. Once in his room, I wanted to leave as soon as possible due to the sheer lack of conversation. There was this silence which filled up the space between us. But not always, I still remember the days when I used to accompany him to the market, feed the pigeons on our rooftop, wander around when he was giving Urdu lessons to my sister on the dining table, trips to his room to watch TV while my parents were asleep. These were some pleasant memories. The last few years were more like a dream....hazy, oblivious and something I cannot really recall.

Ayn Rand+Floyd

Studios (engineers-read labs) in the afternoon are always painful, especially during summer time. The class at 12:30, followed by the speedy run to the mess….yikes!! My two wheeled contraption makes sure that I sweat it out to maximize the “after lunch-before class” time. Heat wanders my mind. As I climb up the stairs to CTW, I picture my room like an air conditioned mall everybody loves to enter when on a treeless sidewalk.

Time of entry-1:00pm

t-25 minutes and counting……

The newspaper wasn’t there, so a possible option was a short nap. As I lay sideways, “We the living” by Rand caught my attention, kept carelessly on the shelf. I had it for sometime now, but always felt that anything by Rand needs a mood. It’s not light, not casual, not really FFUN so to say. Don’t know what made me pick it up. Perhaps too much wandering :)). The best part of a book is undoubtedly the beginning. The publisher’s name, copyright, acknowledgements foreword. One tends to expect something. It’s only in the middle that conclusions are made, whether it is dragged, or use of over the top words.etc Otherwise, every book is nice for the first ten pages.

I took a seat and inserted the floyd folder on my playlist.

People, I discovered that Pink Floyd and Ayn Rand are made for each other. I flipped through the pages like I was on the cycle twenty minutes back. Reading about Irina, Kira, kulaks mixed with a dosage of psychedelia freshened me(okai, I admit I have this thing for anything Russian, don’t know why).

My phone rings

“dude…..the prof has come, where the hell are you? sleeping? “

“No man….didn’t sleep, that’s the problem.”

Exit 1:45pm

I saw it..........

I have noticed that majority of content on my blog is about events that took place in delhi. I confess that spending 5 years in this city doesn’t qualify as being a true “dilli-walah”. I hardly know about places outside south delhi and strongly detest travelling in DTC buses. It is a place our media loves to loathe, perhaps due to the million expectations which they have from our capital, but the one thing that makes it so seductive are the contrasts visible on every street. Comparisons with beer can be made-bitter in the first sip but tends to get smooth as one goes on.

This December, I was walking around CP with a friend, getting really excited about the efficiency of the metro garnished with the well landscaped central park above the station. Any visit to CP is literally fruitless without stopping at Wenger’s, which is almost an institution in selling the tastiest breads and pastries. We both grabbed our swiss rolls, and walked out to enjoy them in the crisp winter. CP has wide sidewalks besides the shops with scattered benches to sit. We found a good spot and took out the rolls from the boxes. The ambience was festive. Fat aunties and uncles with fatter children were buzzing here and there. Everybody seemed so well fed and prosperous. Three street children were playing right next to a garbage can. They were all waiting for some spoilt kid to throw chunks of his/her pastry for reasons like insufficient cream,change of mood.etc etc.

[The sheer irony of the situation just hit me. I guess we have all been through this at some point of time in our lives. A rainy night-the busy traffic signal-a hand tapping on the fogged window of the car-no change in the purse......Our attention span in such cases usually lasts no longer than a second. Some pleasant topic of discussion always comes which puts that snippet of reality behind.]

One of them came to us. My friend gave her a five rupee coin. She said something in the ear of the other two. They came running as well. I had a tenner. I gave it to the elder one and told her to share it amongst themselves. She very politely agreed. But after getting the money, she predictably didn’t. The third one came and I was like “what the hell, lets go sit somewhere else!!”. But then I looked at her and looked at my roll. I gave her a tenner. She started dancing and mocking the elder girl with the note fluttering in her hand and they were having a good laugh.People say one should find happiness in the worst of circumstances, I just saw it…..