Vacuity, Quibbles and a Trail of Two Cities...

I have been sitting in front of the computer for the past ten minutes without an inkling of what I am going to write. My plaints now are a little interesting and incongruous, for this very void has characterised my stay in the US so far. The past month has seen me cocooning into a vacuum. My mind has been insensate to any kind of non-stagnant emotion, drowsing in the Styx of languor and impassivity. Rotting.

When one has nothing else to talk about, it is manners to talk about the weather. I know my manners well enough. Minneapolis is a nice place to live, picturesque and quiet. The weather is as pleasant as Bangalore right now. The down-jackets (which will come down from the attic with the snow) will take some time coming! The people are as a rule polite while maintaining a distance and the television channels, self-propagandist and hypocritical. Football is played with the hand and the general thought is that baseball is the godfather of cricket. If Clinton were to be stung by a bee, research on the aftermaths of bee-stings will catapult to new levels. If there are thousands of pawned other nationals dying out as excesses of a purposeless war, people will imbue themselves in nationalist pride and make hortatory speeches and laud their forces on having annihilated the enemy. Lives -- lives of non-whites -- are meant to be wrenched out in exchange for a quarter at the laundry. But the white doctor will tell you that, without loss of generality, lives are precious. If hurricanes come about anonymously, the folks here consider it rude. They either ostracise it or christen it, depending upon the need of the hour. The last gentleman, who was finally baptised Frances, barged in unannounced and it sent waves of protest round the country. The next two were ostracised after they chose to ignore the US and finally all these people decided that they would be wary of every stranger lurking in the oceans, and promptly christened the next one Ivan. Wherever you go to shop, the staff will be overwhelmingly polite and trustful of you; only you will have ten cameras behind you always. Everything is automated and unmanned. For instance, you cannot find a soul in a gas-station (probably because all Americans choose to play gas-bags outside it). I guess, the way it is here, you can't find a soul in the graveyard as well!

My Visa status says I am a non-resident alien and I can assure you I am feeling no other way. America, with all its manufactured beauty, seems to surprise me no end. It is one big Lego Set. Very picturesque. And very plastic. And people are those that are moulded in it; inscrutable and informally extremely formal. And very plastic.

But I think, for the moment, I shall take solace from the number of people who are feeling a little down this fall and rally myself back to end this one well. (On a tangent, with the amount of people feeling down this fall, I am wondering whether this fall will be referred to as the 'Downfall' in the annals of history.) (Excuse the PJ - Ed.)

In short, Minneapolis is almost as good as Madras. Not quite as good. But comes very close.

- posted by Dileepan @ 3:45:00 pm

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A Song

Following is a sonnet by The Bard that I came across a few days back (I remember sending it to a couple of my friends as well). I find myself quite incapacitated to appreciate such mush these days. But, the cliched sentiment (which I will sanctimoniously dismiss as trite) notwithstanding, the rhetoric and word-play is pleasing. And, who knows, I may have actually fallen for it, another time, another day...

LXXXIV.

Who is it that says most? which can say more
Than this rich praise, that you alone are you?
In whose confine immured is the store
Which should example where your equal grew.
Lean penury within that pen doth dwell
That to his subject lends not some small glory;
But he that writes of you, if he can tell
That you are you, so dignifies his story,
Let him but copy what in you is writ,
Not making worse what nature made so clear,
And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
Making his style admired every where.
You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,
Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.

- posted by Dileepan @ 1:48:00 pm

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A Matter of Perspectives

Yesterday saw some of my friends indulging in savouries and sweetmeats preparations. The reason for the sudden conviviality and celebrations was the fact that Krishna Jayanthi (The Birth Anniversary of the Lord Krishna) was being celebrated back in India on the day.

I told them that Lord Krishna is popular nationwide in the US as well. I told them that Krishna must be ubiquitous; in the air, in concrete walls, in wooden slabs. They thought, I was vainly trying to dissimulate a 'Prahaladha', and by playing on their thoughts, I was trying to pull a fast one on them. I tried my best to convince them; I cannot deal with froward mules.

As if to prove my point, I went out and bought shirts and pants in one of the many 75% discount sales specially put up for the day. They gaped. I had to drill into their thick heads that it was merely a matter of perspectives. We Indians celebrate the birth of Lord Krishna. Trying to do things differently is US’ wont. After Mother's day, Father's day and the many other days, it has decided to acknowledge Devaki, Krishna’s mother, for ushering into the world the Lord Himself and has called the day 'Labour Day'. Just matter of perspectives, you see.

- posted by Dileepan @ 9:43:00 am

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Orienting with the Occidental

Today saw the first formal orientation organised by the Industrial Engineering department. The Industrial Engineering fraternity is pretty small (in number, I mean) here; that is probably one reason quality research goes on and the department is able to support almost everyone financially. Breakfast and lunch were provided. It was all in good taste.

After a brief introduction, the Profesors delved into their research and the courses they would be handling in the forthcoming year. They also exhorted us Masters students to complete our Masters as soon as possible; in fact, they were of the view that a really good student should be able to complete his Masters in a year! The session was veritably informal, and quite not 'informal' as the US makes itself out to be. But even as the Professors spoke, one could quite see that they were ever on the defensive and statements like "When I said this-and-that about so-and-so topic, I did not quite mean this, but actually meant that..." were made at regular intervals to ensure that their statements did not rub other Professors the wrong way. Words break bones here in the US (more than they do anywhere in India); not to speak of hard-earned savings in the pocket.

The students too gradually warmed up to the occasion and posed their aspirations and apprehensions related to graduate studies and beyond. I got a flavour of the research that is happening in the University and was drawn into a couple of Professors' talks about their research. 'Research' here is on a pedestal onto which you cannot hope to have garnered so much a peek in BITS. It's all about research here. People publish papers as if they were editors of the evening daily! The dictum for obtaining results here: Research! If you cannot find 'em, search! I do not know I will feel sated, researching. But for now, I am happy to be here. The session gradually drifted to the end as people clustered into various parts of the room, chatted informally for a while and then slowly trickled away.

The whole session sure left me with a good taste in my mouth; the pizzas served at lunch were tasty. One never minds a feast after a siesta. And one never minds a siesta after a feast!

- posted by Dileepan @ 3:57:00 am

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