A new home

It's been over 9 years since this blog began, and has, over the years, taken a backseat. Blogger has gone through some major changes, as have a lot of things in the life of this blogger. Content here will continue to live on as archival content, but much of the content here, and newer content, have found a new home at The Bottomless Mug. Same garbage, new bin.

http://homepages.uc.edu/~sharmabr/

The writing cadence remains terribly inconsistent, and for the few readers here, my apologies. There is a new beginning made with the new space, and it will hopefully see content at a better regularity than this portal has. So, hop along for the ride, and try and stay awake while at it. 

Dusting off the cobwebs

Gee, looks like I really have been gone too long. Blogger's gone through some major changes, the web's been changing too, social media takeover and all. There have been changes this end as well, and an update here was long due, for reasons personal and beyond. For the very few readers who've been here expecting somewhat regular postings, my apologies.

A lot's been happening since the last post around here. Much water has flown down the Ohio river, and am sure elsewhere as well. Somewhere during the timeline, yours truly managed to tick off one devil of a task on the list in a Master's degree, and added a bigger devil to the list. The neo-proverbial plunge into garbage piled higher and deeper happened, after much denials that it ever would. The half-sweater theorists were right after all.


Anyway, so that's it. An MS thesis saw the end of the tunnel, and before the feeling could sink in, another much longer tunnel in PhD beckoned with stretched arms. Predictably and despite all warnings, yours truly got suckered in, and continues to, grapple with the vast darkness around, and not in any good way. Much fun as it has been so far, there have been casualties. This blog for one, among many others. The social life, for another. And there have been positives. Let's get on with the lists again, shall we*?

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* It is probably worth mentioning at this point that one of the biggest casualties of getting into graduate studies in engineering is a progressive degeneration of creative writing (or an excuse for it, as the case may be). As I get further and further along the process of academic publications, I learn the emphasis is significantly higher on the level of polish and highbrow in the language than on the substance therein. Exceptions exist, as always, but mighty are those that can wrap the simplest of concepts and notions in the most convoluted verbage. Within my own limitations, I have, consciously and otherwise, succumbed to the prevalent practices too, and chances are high it might reflect in my writings here as well. You may see a higher recurrence of numbered lists, of a compulsive need to justify each word and sentence with references (or hyperlinks, in this space), and so on. Endure me while I try and repair myself. There might just still be hope for me, I'll know soon enough.

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The Good

Allergy to the F-word, the S-word and on rare occasions, to the C-word still persists. I still belong to that diminishing group of old-school believers that cling on to the belief that those that need the aforementioned words to sound cool, aggressive or funny aren't any of those. The words have their place of usage in certain limited circumstances only, and the ones that know where the words belong are, sadly, a disappearing breed.

The love of everything vegetarian remains, from boiled potatoes to the most exotic variants of curries and gravies. Much of the local neighborhood has been explored, with the realization that it is not very difficult finding something edible, and very often delicious, in cuisines from across the world. The old rule that everything, when hot and straight from the oven, is tasty and edible, still persists.


The distance from alcohol and tobacco has been diligently maintained over the years, while the same cannot be said of arguments/ justifications/ rationalizations for/against the habit. Late night discussions outside dusty labs, over road trips and during the occasional blackouts continue as before. A few more contentious subjects have been added to the list. More on those another time.

Interest in all things optical has gone on the rise, a fairly bold statement for a nearly blind visually limited person. The interest has risen more in the context of photography - the art, the science and the nerd discussions. Endless hours have been spent on online fora in discussions and arguments, learning and unlearning,  and honing skills as best as a half-blind pair of eyes permit. That, in part, also explains the long absence from this space. Internet distractions.


There is a new breed of peoples in town. New kids, new perspectives, newer takes on life and fun and such. That sense of wonder and excitement that I had when I first moved to the 'nati starts wearing off with time, and to see a new batch each year that recharges that excitement does help. Did I mention I still love this city?

The Bad

Troubles with grammar and OCDness with certain aspects continue, and in certain other aspects, have worsened. The annoyance when one doesn't force a space after a comma, for instance. It doesn't help that I have been forced, against my sensibilities, to take to LaTeX just when I thought I had gotten a good hang of Microsoft Word**. All the advantages of spell-check, word counts, commenting and reviews, and a WYSIWYG editor went right out of the windows (nerd pun unintended). 

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**It is at this point that the most pious and devout in the academic world would take to arms upholding LaTeX over Word. It is almost blasphemous to think otherwise in these circles, and I have paid the price on more occasions than once for choosing the wrong Gods. We are still talking word processors, for the record.

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Cooking skills has gone downhill since the last post, though on the brighter side, the need for good food has proportionately diminished too. Cheesy potatoes seem blissfully filling, coffee (or something to the effect) from vending machines tastes like water in a desert, and the taste buds very often collapse from sensory overload during the occasional visits to an otherwise regular south Indian buffet zone. On the brighter side, the 20 minute rule persists - if anything takes longer than 20 minutes to cook, it probably isn't worth the effort. It is how Sambhar's and Kozhambu's become Dal Fry's, and how mixed vegetable curries end up being seasoned potatoes. Instant noodles remain the modern world's greatest gift to mankind in general, and to grad students in particular. 

Troubles with animals have gone from bad to worse. If I had trouble with cats and dogs earlier, I have now had encounters with snakes, spiders, and rats as well, and none too pleasant at that. A rat, fattened on all the poison fed to it and half-dead from trap snaps, managed to successfully chase me out of my own home even in its most weakened state. Bedbugs don't seem such a bad species anymore.

Online distractions have risen in numbers over the years, and how! The ratio of amount spent at work to that over stuff ranging from that new photography uploaded on Facebook to live Cricinfo updates to XKCD to .. internet distractions is getting smaller and smaller by the day. But then, no knowledge is ever a waste, is it?

The unchanged

"I am working on my research" remains the one answer to any and all questions you might have regarding my work and life, and will remain so for another few months in the foreseeable future. Dig deeper at your own risk.  

The days continue to peak at nights (no double entendre intended), with productive hours typically past midnight. Much as I prefer not to blame the sun, there is much to be said in favor of the dark side. Also explains why winters are the most productive time in a grad student's life (citation needed).


The hope that someday there would be a newer junta that would finally know me by my real name continues to be just a hope, as nicknames get passed from one grad generation to another.


Cleanliness standards, at home and work, are still debatably at the same high levels as before, much against popular perceptions. As long as any document from the past 2 years can be located in the heap within 10 minutes, I don't see why anyone should worry about stacking, organizing and color-tagging documents and such. I even managed to find my passport in a shoe box along with some old receipts and mail adverts, for what it is worth. I could ramble on and on about why all that hard work is of no use, but I have a strong feeling you already agree with me on this one.


And of course, the issues with brevity, or the lack of it, continue. People have managed to force me into self-imposed shutdowns for over 15 minutes in the past few years, but that's about all they've managed to achieve (waits for applause to die down).  


So there, nothing spectacular, nothing too earth-shattering, but just a quick holler that this place might just see a little more activity ahead than in the recent past. 

Be seeing you.

Transitions

Three years to the blog. Three years in Amreeka.

Three, and counting..

Travels and Travails

Right, so here's another one of those short quick updates. Between then and now, on expected lines, things changed, times changed. Some found greener pastures and moved on. Some continue to seek the same and await their turn to get there. Somewhere in between, there's yours truly who has obstinately stayed put, firmly planting his revered backside on a black leather couch somewhere around this place with a (de)famed laptop on his person - remaining a static nodal point in an otherwise dynamic world around him.

Sometime in these past few months, Florida happened - a technical conference and a short visit to the beaches being the highlights. A big guy and his spooky labmate had a reunion with an old mentor and pal, and made new friends over icecreams, geektalk and joyrides in amusement parks. Presentation aside, discussions revolved, for most part, on how the vibrations industry remains shaken up, and what might be needed to excite the field again (clean harmless puns for modal analysts partly intended, double entendre not so much). Economic constraints meant iPods and digicams were replaced by t-shirts and notepads as game bounties and raffle prizes.

Joyous over winning one such freebie, yours truly returned to dear ol' Cincy in time to celebrate V-Day in joyful SADness. Free entertainment was provided from the other end of the globe by this not-so-gentle man and this not-very-gentle-either woman, as oppressed(?) youth in Bharat found a..err..fitting.. response, in pink chaddis, to the moral policing of self-proclaimed guardians of Indian Hindu take-your-pick culture.

A little further down the timeline, Puerto Rico beckoned with open skies for an escapade to the Caribbean Islands. With biomechanic works behind one's back, figuratively and literally, binging sessions took over early evenings and went on till just short of daybreak. While some let the Margaritas and Martinis kick in, some downed lemonades and virgin Dragon Punches with equal fervor and greater sobriety. Liquor or no liquor, this exotic island managed to have both kinds floored end of the day. With a fun company around, arguments chitchats in dingy bars, flashy pubs and streets lasted all nights as profound thoughts were exchanged on infidelity, marriages, moralities, alcoholism and social orthodoxies in cultures across the globe - whowuddavethunk fluids could be so potent?

Efforts were expended in trying to pick up enough of Español to be able to order vegetarian foods and to strike conversations with random females - turned out it took a lot more than Spanish to accomplish either of the two around there. A day was spent exploring the historical Old San Juan. Known for its port and old Spanish forts, this lively town marked by narrow cobblestone streets and colors from across the palette stands in stark contrast to the more urbane landscapes of the capital city of San Juan. Activities off the seas included a small hike through the El-Yunque tropical rainforest. Ears were craned to hear the Puerto Rican Parrot sing, and eyes struggled to catch a glimpse of the Coquí, species native to this island. Somewhere during the stay, a night was spent by the rocks and the waters; the waves spoke for long, a bat listened - mutely and intently for once - and returned home wiser.

Bitten by the travel bug harder and deeper, a yearning for idly-vadas translated into a visit to the Big Apple and the wild Buffalo. A week was spent exploring the city that never sleeps and all its skyscrapers, parks and bridges. Bigcity fastlife was re-lived on the commute as New York City was criscrossed over red, blue, green and yellow lines. In the crowds, in the rush, in life and activity bubbling all over the place, Bangalore.. Bengalüru was remembered, as were words a friend penned. A weekend by the more serene and humbling Niagara signed off a memorable stay amidst friends - a personal highlight of the visit being a partial conquest over fear once exhibited for the canine species. Fear of the feline and the feminine continue to rank high on the list, on an sidenote.

Back to Cincy, back to the couch, back to the occasional labwork, back to the coffee, cream, sugars and biscuits, and to a much-abused companion in a laptop that holds its head high while lesser builds crash. Back to the home away from home. With a nest to come back to after the skies are explored, the travels and travails in life continue unabashed.

A smile a day. A cup of coffee spent over laughter.

A new place to visit. A new avenue to learn.

A penny earned, a penny saved, a penny well spent.

A good deed done.

A dream to chase. A dream to live.

To good times, now, always.

The world remains my oyster.

Colors. Blues.

Took in the breeze - cold, blunt.

Savoured it. Prayed moments froze.

Shalt pass, this too?

Sought sunshine. Leapt for it.

Caught nothingness. Embraced it.

Bliss. Or was it?

Fall's here. Nandãma Sharadaśśhatam, shall we? Will we?

Two, and counting..

The blog's second anniversary's here, and me gets into the retrospective mode yett egain. While it's been an eventful second year in the US, thank your stars not much of it has been/will be chronicled. This, as I have come to promise once too often now without ever living up to it, will be a short one. A few quick updates, then, between the then and the now.

I finally managed an A-grade. That the class average was an A-grade too is a trivial fact I pray you would be kind enough not to point out to me. The grade has been the high point of my academic life at Cincy this far, and I hope you would let me revel in my short-lived moment of glory.

'I am working on my thesis' pretty much answers all you need to know about all that I have been doing for most of last year, and by the looks of it, what I would be 'doing' for another few months in the least. Any deeper probes into my researchwork and date/month/year of completion would be met with severe verbal backlash and depending on your physique, with uppercuts, lowercuts and all darned cuts in between. Smile, throw a wazza!, be gone and make us both happy.

I've, over the last year, managed to take my name off the hitlists of atleast 4 people in Cincinnati - the ones who'd either threatened to squash me to pulp when sighted or 'd take long detours to avoid the remotest possibilities of running into me. Am working on the others.

My fear of the female species has come down, albeit by the tiniest of margins. The guy who'd break into a sweat in the presence of a skimpily clad female blonde next seat on the bus now manages to coolly throw a smile back at members of the aforementioned species. That, very often, is also where the stories end. One step at a time, they tell me. Fear of cats and dogs, on the same a different note, continues to remain high up on the list, with little change expected in the forseeable future.

The rest of yours truly remains unchanged for most part. Since I am at it, and since you look like you do have some time, I might as well run you through that list too.

I continue to remain a non-smoking unstoned teeto veggie*, and my respect for those who aren't, remains independent of the aforementioned attributes.

My cooking skills have improved by a decent margin. considering that I now cook for 4 other souls under the same roof, and that they have so far managed to wake up each morning without upset bellies or sore intestines. Sree even managed to down some of my concoctions with a certain degree of relish. Phew.

Lousiness with numbers, among other things, remains as spectacularly lousy as ever - academically, with grocery bill computations, and otherwise. My ability to pull works off the very last minute continues to amaze me, and continues to annoy people who happen to have a stake in some of those works. This is expected to continue till I get killed or till people entrust me with works no more, whichever is earlier. Am kind of hoping it's the latter.

My stay in the US as I have known this far is expected to change soon. Jobs, committments, money - things change, times change, people 'move on'. C'est la vie, they tell me again. Until then, may the luxuries of student life prevail - long cups of coffee spent over the harmless trivialities of life, icecream parlor visits post-midnight, long solitary walks across the campus at ungodly hours, the luxury of being permitted to work/sleep whenever The Force hits you - in pursuit of knowledge, pursuit of happiness, and pursuit of all that's good and healthy. Cheers to good times and great Pizza memories.

My lessons in life continue.

In loving memory of silent nights

"Your attention please. Your attention please. The Cincinnati Weather Dept has issued a severe weather warn....."

The weather warning system then goes on to say something about thundershowers, lightning and how staying away from windows and balconies is to be considered necessary if we wish to live to see ourselves graduate, but I practically lost them soon after the fourth beep. If a bunch of painful high-frequency hammerbeeps at 80 decibels wouldn't get your attention at 2 AM, I don't know what else will. And if that weren't bad enough, they played it over, and over, and over again - mercy's now a thing of the past around here. In public interest, they say, and I dare say no more.

It's now raining cats, dogs and fattened pigs here, and not too quietly at that. Wooshing winds, roars, pouring rains, lightning flashes, leaking walls and there goes the rest of my night down the drain, literally.

I chose the nightlife for the peace and calm it offered. Too much to ask, was it? I am switching back to the day now. Go find the town a new bat.

Rejoinder : I take my words back on the public announcement thing. In spite of what might usually be considered deafeningly loud announcements, people around me continue to sleep, blissfully unaware of all the happenings in God's green world outside our abode. As stats pour in, that's 2 of every 3 people in each home around here. Either the PA system is flawed in design, or some people are blessed with good sleep at nights under all circumstances. I envy these souls, and live in the hope that someday I end up being one of them. Pray for me, brother.