A Joyful Experience

...from Hooghly to Hyderabad and beyond.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Change of Status

I started this blog in 2006 as an antidote to boredom when I was sitting idle on the "bench" at my first job in Hyderabad. Since then, I have written about all sorts of topics under the sun, from movie reviews to reminiscences, from travelogues to frustrated rants, from recipes for making mummies to translations of Bengali poems. However, this blog has strangely fallen silent for many of the biggest events in my life, such as my preparing for GRE and getting admission in PhD in 2008, my getting robbed on the street in 2009 and 2010, my PhD funding stopping in 2012 and my near disastrous car accident in August this year. Some of these events were good, while most were bad, but all had something in common - I did not want to tell the world about it when it was happening. I am somewhat of an introvert and shy away from discussing my present private life too much on this blog. In some cases, the matter had to be kept a secret from certain people - my employers in case of the PhD admission, my parents in case of the robberies - and were later written about here when the need for secrecy disappeared. Besides, a series of unfortunate incidents has made me a perpetual pessimist and somewhat superstitious. I believe if I talk about it too much beforehand, it may not work out in the end.

That situation has arisen again. I have not been updating my readers with events going on in my private life for quite some time now, writing on a variety of nonsense such as fall foliage and movie reviews while most of my time and my thought has been occupied by only one thing - preparations for an impending event that could prove to be the biggest life changer for me, and also for somebody else. But this time, I have decided to announce it here before it happens, so here it goes.

I'm getting married tomorrow, and although I started by comparing it with my getting robbed on the street, I really hope it will be a much better experience.

The start of my journey at Washington Dulles airport on Friday.

So I landed in Kolkata on the 7th of this month after a month or more of hectic shopping, packing and six months of heavy dieting, followed by a safe but unpleasantly eventful plane journey. I could write about how pathetic Jet Airways' customer service is, but I'l save that for later. For the last four days, life has been a hectic collage of attending my cousin's wedding, last minute preparations for mine, commuting to Kolkata multiple times for renewing my US visa, and playing with my seven month old niece while battling severe jet-lag. And by the looks of it, the next few days will only be busier.

Hopefully, when I write the next post on this blog, I will have entered a different phase of my life. Or, as they say on Facebook, my "relationship status" will have changed. Till then, goodbye!

Monday, November 24, 2014

Of Time and Its Chronicler

Busy as I've been, I still found the time to see two movies last week. The two are of absolutely different genres, one being a sci-fi thriller and the other a biopic. Yet, there was a common thread connecting the two movies.

The first one was Interstellar. Christopher Nolan's movies often tax the viewers' comprehension abilities, and Interstellar was no exception. While many movies have fantasized about interstellar travel and visiting alien planets, there are hardly any that have approached the subject in such a scientifically accurate manner. Black holes, wormholes, time dilation, gravity waves - these are concepts which boggle the mind even in their unadulterated form. Add a little creative license and the result becomes truly remarkable.

I do not want to talk too much about the plot of movie here since it is easy to give away spoilers, and it would be a shame to do that. The movie reminded me of several movies, but primarily of 2001: A Space Odyssey. The rotating spaceships a lot of other things refer to that movie. Interstellar also reminded me of WALL-E and the book Rendezvous with Rama. As a matter of fact, Interstellar is almost an unintentional prequel to WALL-E. The robots of Interstellar were very lovable too, though they were not like WALL-E. They reminded me more of Marvin from The Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy. With the lovely music by Hans Zimmer and some never-before seen scientifically accurate visuals of a black hole and a wormhole, the movie is a very out of this world experience, although one might need to do a little homework in order to understand it fully.

One of the concepts presented in Interstellar is that of time dilation. Time runs slowly for astronauts close to the event horizon of a black hole and they age more slowly than their friends and relatives on earth. This was somewhat difficult to digest for a lot of people, as was the idea of dimensions more than four. I, however, was aware of such things since my school days and I understood most of the movie. I may sound arrogant when I say this, but actually knowing these concepts was not my credit at all. I read a couple of excellent books on these subjects which made me knowledgeable. The first of these was the book "A Brief History of Time." This book has shaped many of my ideas about the universe, and strangely, much of my idea about God as well. The second movie that I saw this week was about the life of the author of this book.

Most people accept Stephen Hawking as the greatest physicist of our era. He was diagnosed with an extremely rare motor neuron disease when he was a student. The doctors said he had only two years to live. Yet, Hawking mysteriously went on living well beyond those two years, married and had children, besides telling us much of what we know about the universe and authoring one of the most-sold books in history. Today, the 72-year old wheelchair-ridden Hawking who speaks with a speech synthesizer is a familiar face across the world. The movie "The Theory of Everything" tells the story of how a normal college student became the Hawking of today. It tells the story of the day-to-day struggles of a young Stephen Hawking and his wife Jane. It tells the story of one of the most brilliant brains on the planet struggling to break free of the most unfortunate imprisonment of its body.

The Theory of Everything is an extremely well-made film. The casting choice is phenomenal: Eddie Redmayne does not look like Hawking, he is Hawking. His portrayal of the famous scientist's physical disabilities, his slurred speech, his strained movements is so realistic that it is painful to watch at times. Felicity Jones is adorable as Jane Hawking as well. This movie also has a beautiful theme music, though not as intricate and exotic as that of Interstellar.

And then there is time itself, as one of the characters of the movie, the same time that holds the story of Interstellar together. Both the movies are a race against time. In one the human race struggles to survive while time runs out for them, and in the other it's more of a struggle for one man while time claims yet one more of his normal bodily functions. It is not a race that can eventually be won, of course, but can time be temporarily held at bay? Watch the movies to find out.

I recommend both of them, but if you decide to watch just one, then go for The Theory of Everything. It may then interest you enough about time so that you change your mind about watching the other.


Monday, November 03, 2014

Fall in Virginia

As I wrote a long time ago during my first fall in the USA, no amount of preparedness can take away the surprise of experiencing an American fall first hand. I must clarify of course, in case it is not already clear, that I am talking of the season fall, and not the act of falling down upon black ice, although that also takes you by surprise in spite of all preparedness.

Fall foliage in Chantilly, Virginia where I go for grocery shopping

Last October, I had moved to Fairfax, Virginia to start my post-doctoral job. Naturally the second half of October and the first half of November was spent in a frenzy of activity related to packing, moving and unpacking my stuff and I hardly had time to really see what fall looked like in Virginia. This year, when I got that chance, I finally realized that if fall in New Jersey was breathtaking, fall in Virginia is beyond all adjectives. And I am not even talking about the national parks and rural areas. Both Falls Church, the city where I live, and Fairfax, the city where I work, showed spectacular fall colours along with all neighbouring urban regions that I happened to visit during the last month.

Fall foliage in downtown Fairfax

Fall foliage inside my apartment complex

So this year, I photographed fall colours at all these places to my heart's content. I even parked my car in downtown Fairfax while going to work and photographed the trees there which I see everyday on my route. Apart from that, in keeping with the spirit of the season, I put up coloured lights on my balcony before Diwali and left them until Halloween. I bought a pumpkin and carved it to make the face of the King of Ghosts from Goopy Gayen Bagha Bayen as a jack-o-lantern. I also bought chocolates in case some occasional trick-or-treaters decided to come knocking (which they did).

Now fall is almost gone. The trees are gradually turning a golden brown and the roads are covered with dry rustling leaves rather than the bright red carpet of a few weeks ago. The temperature is reaching for the freezing point and the wind is making sure that fall lives up to its name. I threw away my rotting jack-o-lantern and took off the lights from the balcony. Daylight saving time ended this weekend, which means the evenings will now be intolerably long. There was a time when I loved winter and waited for it all year long. Now, however, winter seems bleak and depressing and I feel like quoting Robert Frost and say:

Fall foliage inside my apartment complex
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!

October is already over, but the last few snow-free and occasionally warm days of this year are still left. Then it would be time for winter, and when the world outside turns white, I would be left looking longingly at the warm colours of fall in these photographs until the arrival of spring.

The view from my balcony

Fall foliage inside my apartment complex

Fall foliage in downtown Fairfax

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Wednesday, October 15, 2014

The Day That Ended Differently

The day dawned dark and gloomy, with intermittent downpours of rain punctuated by a warm, heavy stillness uncharacteristic of this season. I woke up and reluctantly got ready for work. Rainy days make me want to stay at home.

Outside, the world was not altogether dull and gray as one would expect on such a day. It is almost the peak of fall, and the trees are displaying some magnificent foliage. The maples, the oaks, the cherries, and others that I do not recognize, are all looking bright and colourful. Each tree is painted in its unique hue ranging from yellow-green to flaming orange and beet red. The roads, the sidewalks and the grass lawns lay covered with a checkered quilt of fallen leaves. The cars were covered in shiny glass beads, large raindrops that were just a little too small to roll away and fall to the ground. As I drove to the university, I turned on my mp3 player which is connected to my car stereo, and was soon lost in a wintry evening of long ago in a far off place called Vermissa Valley, also known as the Valley of Fear.

When I was growing up in Allahabad, this was one of my favourite times of the year. For most people staying in West Bengal, the ending of Durga Puja means the biggest festival of the year is over, and this season comes with a sadness and a longing for the next arrival of the goddess a year later. In north India, however, the biggest festival is yet to arrive, and every house is being prepared in some way or other for the occasion. Some people have their houses painted, while others simply clean their gardens and make the house look better. Everyone decorates their house with strings of lights, and houses with lights grow in number day by day, until on the day of the festival, every house on every street is outlined in lights. Diwali is not all about Chinese electric lights, of course. It is also very much about tradition, and small earthen lamps called diyas are used for lighting up the houses  on Diwali night even today. The flickering little flames of diyas in a row look much better than any electric light could. And of course, then there are the fireworks, which are burnt by all to light up the night sky and scare the life out of animals, birds and evil spirits.

But I digress. I am far away from the Allahabad of my childhood, and although Diwali is indeed a week away, there are no preparations to be seen in this country for that festival. Besides, when I talk of Allahabad and use the word today, I actually indicate a time period some eight years in the past, so the accuracy and relevance of my description is doubtful anyway.

I reached the university and immersed myself into work. The rain beat relentlessly at my fourth floor window all day, occasionally with enough ardor to make me look up. Sometimes I looked down at the road below and saw people walking about with colourful umbrellas.  I had my lunch sitting at my desk. Occasionally chat boxes would open up and friends would write a line or two. Most seemed to be asking what my day was like and what I was planning to do later today. Morning became afternoon and afternoon rolled into evening. I put my laptop inside my bag and walked out of the building. The rain had stopped, and the sky was even clearing up a little. I took my car out of the parking lot and headed home, listening to The Valley of Fear once again.

As I drove through the winding streets of Old Town Fairfax, I realized that although Diwali was not imminent in this part of the world, the houses were being decorated here as well, albeit in a different manner altogether. Although Halloween is a good two weeks away, some houses had put Jack-o-lanterns at their front doors, and others had spooky decorations and scarecrows on their front lawns. I made a mental note of buying a pumpkin on my next visit to Walmart. I wanted to carve it and make my own Jack-o-lantern too. I also wanted to put up some lights for Diwali on my balcony. Probably I'll do both during the coming weekend.

On reaching home I found a large box at my door. It was the suitcase that I had ordered online a couple of days ago. Then I spent some time reading, before cooking and eating my dinner. Then, as I was having my usual two-mile walk around the apartment complex, my friend Shreevallabh and his wife Snehal came to my house with the cake and the gift card.

In case I hadn't mentioned, it was my 33rd birthday today.

So then I cut the cake, and we had a piece each, and we sat down and chatted for three quarters of an hour. This was the special ending to a day that was perfectly ordinary in every way.

And after they had left, I arranged the cake and the gifts on the table and took a photo. The much drooled-over Humans of New York book had arrived yesterday from Atreyee and the Great American Short Stories was something I gifted myself. After all, however ordinary the birthday may seem, one does not turn 33 every day.

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Friday, September 19, 2014

Adios, Amigo!

Those were different times, with longer days. The days when I was doing my Bachelor of Engineering. The Internet came through a dial-up modem, but was somehow more fascinating. My Yahoo and Hotmail inboxes had about ten megabytes of space each and had to be cleared regularly. Checking mail was a once-a-day activity. The rest of the day was spent with real-life friends, indulging in activities with real-world objects, like playing cards and carrom boards. In case I wanted to communicate with a friend or a relative living far away, I could use email, or chat.

Yahoo Messenger was used for chatting. Google was just a search engine. 

Then one day, I received an email from a school friend. He was inviting me to join something called Orkut. I wondered what Orkut was, and how would it ever be useful. After all, the only person I knew on Orkut was my friend who had invited me. True, between us we invited a few more friends soon, but interacting through Orkut was an overhead. In the next year or so I dad collected about ten scraps on my Orkut profile. Then I went to join my first job, where I had nothing to do.

Sitting idle for nine hours a day in an air-conditioned office, in front of a PC with a broadband connection, and getting a fat salary at the end of the month for it may sound like the dream job, but believe me, it is the most boring existence imaginable. To avoid going crazy from boredom, I turned to other activities - this blog, photography and Orkut. In the next three months the number of my scraps grew from ten to about a thousand.

Those were different times. The words "social networking" meant nothing. Blogging was a new fad. Facebook was yet to be launched. A tweet meant a bird call. And Indian IT companies had still not blocked Blogger and Orkut on their networks.

Orkut was a social network all right, and the very first one for most Indians of my generation. It allowed us to keep in touch with friends, stay updated on the latest gossip in the friend circle and post our photos for the world to see. We could even make new friends on Orkut. Two of my very good friends - Monami and Smita - found me through Orkut, both of whom I later met in the real world. However, the biggest attraction of Orkut for me were not the profiles of people, they were the concept of "Communities." Communities were forums where like-minded people could discuss (or argue) about any topic under the sun, or beyond it. From Ray's films to digital photography, from Javan temples to Java applets, from origami techniques to oregano recipes, there were communities for everyone.

Those were different times, innocent and carefree. Anyone on Orkut could read anyone else's scraps and community postings, and view their photos. Privacy settings had not yet been invented, identity theft wasn't a concern. People did not fish for "likes" on their posts. Sure, comments felt good, but otherwise we were content to just have a corner of the Internet for our photos and opinions for people to see.

I first heard about Facebook in 2008, a few months before I came to the US. I opened an account, but even long after coming here, Orkut remained my preferred social network. There was too much happening on Facebook - applications, games, wall posts, updates. Facebook was like Times Square. Orkut, in comparison, was like the quiet suburban town where I grew up. It was not cool, not happening, but for a heated discussion with friends, it was still the best place. Until the friends started moving to Times Square.

I gradually stopped visiting Orkut sometime around 2011, and my biggest complaint about Orkut was, "They are copying Facebook too much." Since then, Facebook has grown by leaps and bounds and peoples' interest in Orkut has dwindled away. Some of the communities that I visited often, like the ones discussing Bengali literature, have moved to Facebook. Also, Google+ took off, and it was unlikely that Google would be running two social networking sites so I had been expecting to see the notice for some time. It finally came.  Orkut is closing down on 30th September 2014. People are requested to move all their content to Google+ or elsewhere.

And although I had not visited that website in three years, I felt a pang of sadness. Orkut was a remnant of the bygone days - days when we were immature enough to write public "testimonials" for our online friends, and shameless enough to display testimonials written by others on our profile pages. When people would rate their friends on how trustworthy they were, and become "fans" if they liked them too much. Facebook may have 1.3 billion users, but it lacks that personal touch that Orkut had with less that 100 million of us.

But all good things must come to an end, and Orkut is no exception, Maybe, someday, Facebook will be shutting down while some more popular social network with even less personal touch will be taking its place, and I will be lamenting about the memories associated with Facebook. But till then, I will miss Orkut and its scraps and its testimonials and the good times it gave me,

Goodbye friend! Those were good times, the time we spent together. Those were different times.


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