This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal
This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.
This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.
This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.
The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Its amazing how one’s life can be compared to a wave. I remember this ultimate line from Jurassic Park (the book of course). I like Micheal Crichton a lot. It’s a shame he had to die so soon. The way he writes his books is amazing. Any man with a basic scientific knowledge can understand everything. Not that his concepts are simple but because he explains everything so clearly. Its as if he is writing a manual for a particular process – in this case, the manufacture of Dinosaurs (rather, as it turns out to be, animals like dinosaurs but not actually dinosaurs). Its convincing enough to try it!!!
Anyway coming back to the line I was mentioning. It goes like this – Alan Grant and Ian Malcolm are on their way back to the visitor’s centre after seeing the Stego and unveiling the fundamental flaw of the park – the animals breeding and Raptors being lose. Just before they find out how the animals were getting off the island (I don’t wanna spoil the fun for you guys)), Malcolm and Alan talk like this : (Read it carefully and with heart)
Driving back in the fading light, Malcolm seemed oddly subdued. Grant said, "You must feel vindicated. About your theory."
"As a matter of fact, I'm feeling a bit of dread. I suspect we are at a very dangerous point."
"Why?"
"Intuition."
"Do mathematicians believe in intuition?"
"Absolutely. Very important, intuition. Actually, I was thinking of fractals," Malcolm said.
"You know about fractals?"
Grant shook his head. "Not really, no."
"Fractals are a kind of geometry, associated with a man named Mandelbrot. Unlike ordinary Euclidean geometry that everybody learns in school-squares and cubes and spheres-fractal geometry appears to describe real objects in the natural world. Mountains and clouds are fractal shapes. So fractals are probably related to reality. Somehow.”
"Well, Mandelbrot found a remarkable thing with his geometric tools. He found that things looked almost identical at different scales."
"At different scales?" Grant said.
"For example," Malcolm said, "a big mountain, seen from far away, has a certain rugged
mountain shape. If you get closer, and examine a small peak of the big mountain, it will have the same mountain shape. In fact, you can go all the way down the scale to a tiny speck of rock, seen under a microscope-it will have the same basic fractal shape as the big mountain."
"I don't really see why this is worrying you," Grant said. He yawned. He smelled the sulfur fumes of the volcanic steam. They were coming now to the section of road that ran near the coastline, overlooking the beach and the ocean.
"It's a way of looking at things," Malcolm said. "Mandelbrot found a sameness from the
smallest to the largest. And this sameness of scale also occurs for events."
"Events?"
"Consider cotton prices," Malcolm said. "There are good records of cotton prices going back
more than a hundred years. When you study fluctuations in cotton prices, you find that the graph of price fluctuations in the course of a day looks basically like the graph for a week, which looks basically like the graph for a year, or for ten years. And that's how things are. A day is like a whole life. You start out doing one thing, but end up doing something else, plan to run an errand, but never get there. . . . And at the end of your life, your whole existence has that same haphazard quality, too. Your whole life has the same shape as a single day."
"I guess it's one way to look at things," Grant said.
"No," Malcolm said. "It's the only way to look at things. At least, the only way that is true to reality. You see, the fractal idea of sameness carries within it an aspect of recursion, a kind of doubling back on itself, which means that events are unpredictable. That they can change suddenly, and without warning."
"Okay . . ."
"But we have soothed ourselves into imagining sudden change as something that happens
outside the normal order of things. An accident, like a car crash. Or beyond our control, like a fatal illness. We do not conceive of sudden, radical, irrational change as built into the very fabric of existence. Yet it is. And chaos theory teaches us," Malcolm said, "that straight linearity, which we have come to take for granted in everything from physics to fiction, simply does not exist. Linearity is an artificial way of viewing the world. Real life isn't a series of interconnected events occurring one after another like beads strung on a necklace. Life is actually a series of encounters in which one event may change those that follow in a wholly unpredictable, even devastating way." Malcolm sat back in his seat, looking toward the other Land Cruiser, a few yards ahead. "That's a deep truth about the structure of our universe. But, for some reason, we insist on behaving as if it were not true."
Actually every word spoken by Malcolm in the book is a masterpiece. But there’s no point in me putting it all here. If you had read the above conversation closely, you would understand why I kind of remembered that line when I said that life is amazingly comparable to a wave. Actually, come to think of it, life can only be compared to a wave – cause nothing else can incorporate the beautiful and terrible dynamics of this ever changing variable called life in a more apt manner. (lets argue on this!!!) [ kuncham ekkuvaindemo!!! ;) ]
I mean every part of anyone’s life can be compared to a wave. You have ups and downs, you have turbulence and unexpected weather – tsunamis, cyclones, everything – its just how you define the events that fall into each category. But at the end of the day, every event will fall into one category or another. I am too young to take this concept further, but I am sure one day some yogi on some dais will use this metaphor and he may even go on to say that death is when the wave breaks down completely on the shore and to take it to even a more extreme comparison – the waves being pushed back again and again as afterlife and stuff…but that’s not my point.
My point is that you could apply this fractal philosophy to all events and occurrences in your wave (i.e., life) and you will see that it remarkably fits into it. Life is basically the same wave again and again. Starting from a highly successful person to an utter failure in life, his wave will have the same basic shape at different scales. Amazing!!! (P.S: Thanks ra Aslesh!!! You gave me a wonderful habit)
But the most beautiful part is that these waves of our lives are controllable. At the end of the day, its how you control and learn from them that differentiates you from the rest.
A person who failed in life will have the same failed shape wave throughout his life; A person who is successful will have the same successful wave shape; a haphazard person will have the same shape every day. It’s the same no matter what example you take. We take things lite and say one bad day doesn’t change everything, but if you are having bad days on a trot (bad meaning unsatisfactory) then its time to reboot your system, sit back and think of where you are heading – cause fractals speak of whats gonna come. If you let these unsatisfactory days to happen again and again, you will never be able to stop them and one fine day when you are 70 years old and sitting on a cool evening in your verandah thinking of your life – you’ll find that you are not satisfied with your life – and you are responsible for it as you let your average day take that unsatisfactory shape. Because your entire life has the same fractal shape as a single day in your life – that’s what mathematics teaches us.
So keep fractals in your mind – don’t let the waves control you but go on and control the waves to get satisfaction – cause once you lose control over the shape of a single unit (unit changes depending on the scale in question) – be it a day, a year, so on ; you’ve lost it.
I’ll leave it to you to decide which side you wanna be on, on that cool evening in question…..
And more importantly, as one uglyduckling Deepak quoted recently – “its not knowing and planning that matter – its implementation”…..
Anyway coming back to the line I was mentioning. It goes like this – Alan Grant and Ian Malcolm are on their way back to the visitor’s centre after seeing the Stego and unveiling the fundamental flaw of the park – the animals breeding and Raptors being lose. Just before they find out how the animals were getting off the island (I don’t wanna spoil the fun for you guys)), Malcolm and Alan talk like this : (Read it carefully and with heart)
Driving back in the fading light, Malcolm seemed oddly subdued. Grant said, "You must feel vindicated. About your theory."
"As a matter of fact, I'm feeling a bit of dread. I suspect we are at a very dangerous point."
"Why?"
"Intuition."
"Do mathematicians believe in intuition?"
"Absolutely. Very important, intuition. Actually, I was thinking of fractals," Malcolm said.
"You know about fractals?"
Grant shook his head. "Not really, no."
"Fractals are a kind of geometry, associated with a man named Mandelbrot. Unlike ordinary Euclidean geometry that everybody learns in school-squares and cubes and spheres-fractal geometry appears to describe real objects in the natural world. Mountains and clouds are fractal shapes. So fractals are probably related to reality. Somehow.”
"Well, Mandelbrot found a remarkable thing with his geometric tools. He found that things looked almost identical at different scales."
"At different scales?" Grant said.
"For example," Malcolm said, "a big mountain, seen from far away, has a certain rugged
mountain shape. If you get closer, and examine a small peak of the big mountain, it will have the same mountain shape. In fact, you can go all the way down the scale to a tiny speck of rock, seen under a microscope-it will have the same basic fractal shape as the big mountain."
"I don't really see why this is worrying you," Grant said. He yawned. He smelled the sulfur fumes of the volcanic steam. They were coming now to the section of road that ran near the coastline, overlooking the beach and the ocean.
"It's a way of looking at things," Malcolm said. "Mandelbrot found a sameness from the
smallest to the largest. And this sameness of scale also occurs for events."
"Events?"
"Consider cotton prices," Malcolm said. "There are good records of cotton prices going back
more than a hundred years. When you study fluctuations in cotton prices, you find that the graph of price fluctuations in the course of a day looks basically like the graph for a week, which looks basically like the graph for a year, or for ten years. And that's how things are. A day is like a whole life. You start out doing one thing, but end up doing something else, plan to run an errand, but never get there. . . . And at the end of your life, your whole existence has that same haphazard quality, too. Your whole life has the same shape as a single day."
"I guess it's one way to look at things," Grant said.
"No," Malcolm said. "It's the only way to look at things. At least, the only way that is true to reality. You see, the fractal idea of sameness carries within it an aspect of recursion, a kind of doubling back on itself, which means that events are unpredictable. That they can change suddenly, and without warning."
"Okay . . ."
"But we have soothed ourselves into imagining sudden change as something that happens
outside the normal order of things. An accident, like a car crash. Or beyond our control, like a fatal illness. We do not conceive of sudden, radical, irrational change as built into the very fabric of existence. Yet it is. And chaos theory teaches us," Malcolm said, "that straight linearity, which we have come to take for granted in everything from physics to fiction, simply does not exist. Linearity is an artificial way of viewing the world. Real life isn't a series of interconnected events occurring one after another like beads strung on a necklace. Life is actually a series of encounters in which one event may change those that follow in a wholly unpredictable, even devastating way." Malcolm sat back in his seat, looking toward the other Land Cruiser, a few yards ahead. "That's a deep truth about the structure of our universe. But, for some reason, we insist on behaving as if it were not true."
Actually every word spoken by Malcolm in the book is a masterpiece. But there’s no point in me putting it all here. If you had read the above conversation closely, you would understand why I kind of remembered that line when I said that life is amazingly comparable to a wave. Actually, come to think of it, life can only be compared to a wave – cause nothing else can incorporate the beautiful and terrible dynamics of this ever changing variable called life in a more apt manner. (lets argue on this!!!) [ kuncham ekkuvaindemo!!! ;) ]
I mean every part of anyone’s life can be compared to a wave. You have ups and downs, you have turbulence and unexpected weather – tsunamis, cyclones, everything – its just how you define the events that fall into each category. But at the end of the day, every event will fall into one category or another. I am too young to take this concept further, but I am sure one day some yogi on some dais will use this metaphor and he may even go on to say that death is when the wave breaks down completely on the shore and to take it to even a more extreme comparison – the waves being pushed back again and again as afterlife and stuff…but that’s not my point.
My point is that you could apply this fractal philosophy to all events and occurrences in your wave (i.e., life) and you will see that it remarkably fits into it. Life is basically the same wave again and again. Starting from a highly successful person to an utter failure in life, his wave will have the same basic shape at different scales. Amazing!!! (P.S: Thanks ra Aslesh!!! You gave me a wonderful habit)
But the most beautiful part is that these waves of our lives are controllable. At the end of the day, its how you control and learn from them that differentiates you from the rest.
A person who failed in life will have the same failed shape wave throughout his life; A person who is successful will have the same successful wave shape; a haphazard person will have the same shape every day. It’s the same no matter what example you take. We take things lite and say one bad day doesn’t change everything, but if you are having bad days on a trot (bad meaning unsatisfactory) then its time to reboot your system, sit back and think of where you are heading – cause fractals speak of whats gonna come. If you let these unsatisfactory days to happen again and again, you will never be able to stop them and one fine day when you are 70 years old and sitting on a cool evening in your verandah thinking of your life – you’ll find that you are not satisfied with your life – and you are responsible for it as you let your average day take that unsatisfactory shape. Because your entire life has the same fractal shape as a single day in your life – that’s what mathematics teaches us.
So keep fractals in your mind – don’t let the waves control you but go on and control the waves to get satisfaction – cause once you lose control over the shape of a single unit (unit changes depending on the scale in question) – be it a day, a year, so on ; you’ve lost it.
I’ll leave it to you to decide which side you wanna be on, on that cool evening in question…..
And more importantly, as one uglyduckling Deepak quoted recently – “its not knowing and planning that matter – its implementation”…..
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Oh Motivation...You magnificent beast!!!
Motivation – it’s a funny thing. Atleast I find it that way. I would say it’s the driving factor for life. No matter what or where a person is, if he has no motivation then he can never do anything. Success or failure is a different thing but without motivation, he can barely start on anything. Even if he does things, he never does them the way he expects from himself or the way he usually does. No matter what the peers rate him, even if its high, he never gets the satisfaction of doing something. After all, its his satisfaction that matters because without it, he slowly kills his soul. I don’t know what the experts say as I don’t read all that motivational crap but I can say this and argue on it anytime.
Hatred drove me for a major part of my life (life till now i.e., :P). It was hatred that drove me to my goal. It was hatred that gave me satisfaction. It was hatred and anger that kept me awake and focused. Nah!! I am not a terrorist or a rebel. But yes, hatred drove me. Hatred gave me recognition, fame and knowledge. Hatred made me beat everything that was thrown at me, except 2 things. But that’s insignificant compared to the remaining part. I was always on the alert and ready to fight. Infact, I think I love hatred. I miss it so much. With it, things would have been excellent – much better than the “very good” that they are now. I can say that that part of my life when hatred drove me was by far the most satisfying. I had everything back then – fun, motivation, affection, friends, gurus, mentors, coaches, everything.
I hated some people in my life back then. Hated them so much that I would do whatever I could, to beat them, to see them being proved wrong, to see them lose, to see them remorse for their doings (or words). I often made them feel that way and I was good at it. That was my goal and I never wavered from it no matter what other activities I did. I was able to do everything that I wanted and still be able to make them feel that way. There was still so much free time. And whatever that came to me in the process was not what I was looking at. – it was only seeing them proved wrong. Today, I feel it was good that way. I was alert all the time, waiting for them to make a mistake, looking for a chance to pounce on them – but now….. I don’t care…..
Because after sometime, I decided to give up on hatred. Partly because of the persistent counseling given by people of hatred being bad and etc etc and partly because I felt that things other than hatred would motivate me better. I saw cases where love and affection drove people better than hatred and I thought love or affection would drive me better too. But that was not all, there was actually no one to hate anymore. I did not hate my competitors cause they were my friends and they had nothing in them to hate. Also I didn’t want to hate others cause I had changed now. Not that I liked them but I didn’t care them anymore. It didn’t matter what they thought or rated. It didn’t matter at all. All that mattered was my satisfaction and me beating my own self. That was mostly because of me idolizing Kimi more than anything else. His attitude towards the outside world was too good not to adopt. That was what changed me. I decided to hell with the outside world. It was my insides and how they felt that mattered. And for that I chose to motivate myself with love, affection and attachment.
The problem was I didn’t find them enough. Rather whatever I have in terms of love in my life was and is not giving me as much fuel to burn my fire as hatred used to give me. That might also be because of me idolizing Kimi. Maybe I am too detached from the outside world. Maybe I need to get back to what I was. I know I cant stay in this cocoon for long. Its not good for me and I need to change because I am sure it will become irreversible after sometime. Unfortunately there is nothing to draw me out of this. I thought I had found something recently that might do it but it was actually a mirage that turned out to be nothing when I tried to grab it. I really thought it could change my life by changing my motivation but I was wrong, again. Now I can neither hate it or love it cause it was never the thing that I thought it was. I was not looking at it properly. It was a trick of the mind.
Hatred was like rocket fuel and love is like Extra Premium or Shell Super. There is a lot of difference in the energy output of these two fuels and I can sense it. December 2004 was when I changed fuels and its been 4 years since I have done something that has satisfied me. I regret it and I don’t think I did the right thing back then. I want to change things and I have one last chance to do it. I have decided to do it with this low energy fuel to motivate me cause I don’t even have a choice as I know that it will take a miracle or something of that type to bring so much extra love for something/someone in my life that would motivate me as much as hatred used. I don’t believe in miracles as statistics speak for themselves. So there’s no reason to believe that will happen. I have to do good with what I have and make the best of the situation, make sure I reach my destination and don’t end up in the middle of nowhere…..because if I wont be able to do what I’ve set out to do than it will definitely hurt me….
Will I find some extra love, affection, attachment to motivate me and will I be able to get everything other than hatred back into me only time will tell….will I reach my destination or will my tank run empty????
Even I don’t know……
Hatred drove me for a major part of my life (life till now i.e., :P). It was hatred that drove me to my goal. It was hatred that gave me satisfaction. It was hatred and anger that kept me awake and focused. Nah!! I am not a terrorist or a rebel. But yes, hatred drove me. Hatred gave me recognition, fame and knowledge. Hatred made me beat everything that was thrown at me, except 2 things. But that’s insignificant compared to the remaining part. I was always on the alert and ready to fight. Infact, I think I love hatred. I miss it so much. With it, things would have been excellent – much better than the “very good” that they are now. I can say that that part of my life when hatred drove me was by far the most satisfying. I had everything back then – fun, motivation, affection, friends, gurus, mentors, coaches, everything.
I hated some people in my life back then. Hated them so much that I would do whatever I could, to beat them, to see them being proved wrong, to see them lose, to see them remorse for their doings (or words). I often made them feel that way and I was good at it. That was my goal and I never wavered from it no matter what other activities I did. I was able to do everything that I wanted and still be able to make them feel that way. There was still so much free time. And whatever that came to me in the process was not what I was looking at. – it was only seeing them proved wrong. Today, I feel it was good that way. I was alert all the time, waiting for them to make a mistake, looking for a chance to pounce on them – but now….. I don’t care…..
Because after sometime, I decided to give up on hatred. Partly because of the persistent counseling given by people of hatred being bad and etc etc and partly because I felt that things other than hatred would motivate me better. I saw cases where love and affection drove people better than hatred and I thought love or affection would drive me better too. But that was not all, there was actually no one to hate anymore. I did not hate my competitors cause they were my friends and they had nothing in them to hate. Also I didn’t want to hate others cause I had changed now. Not that I liked them but I didn’t care them anymore. It didn’t matter what they thought or rated. It didn’t matter at all. All that mattered was my satisfaction and me beating my own self. That was mostly because of me idolizing Kimi more than anything else. His attitude towards the outside world was too good not to adopt. That was what changed me. I decided to hell with the outside world. It was my insides and how they felt that mattered. And for that I chose to motivate myself with love, affection and attachment.
The problem was I didn’t find them enough. Rather whatever I have in terms of love in my life was and is not giving me as much fuel to burn my fire as hatred used to give me. That might also be because of me idolizing Kimi. Maybe I am too detached from the outside world. Maybe I need to get back to what I was. I know I cant stay in this cocoon for long. Its not good for me and I need to change because I am sure it will become irreversible after sometime. Unfortunately there is nothing to draw me out of this. I thought I had found something recently that might do it but it was actually a mirage that turned out to be nothing when I tried to grab it. I really thought it could change my life by changing my motivation but I was wrong, again. Now I can neither hate it or love it cause it was never the thing that I thought it was. I was not looking at it properly. It was a trick of the mind.
Hatred was like rocket fuel and love is like Extra Premium or Shell Super. There is a lot of difference in the energy output of these two fuels and I can sense it. December 2004 was when I changed fuels and its been 4 years since I have done something that has satisfied me. I regret it and I don’t think I did the right thing back then. I want to change things and I have one last chance to do it. I have decided to do it with this low energy fuel to motivate me cause I don’t even have a choice as I know that it will take a miracle or something of that type to bring so much extra love for something/someone in my life that would motivate me as much as hatred used. I don’t believe in miracles as statistics speak for themselves. So there’s no reason to believe that will happen. I have to do good with what I have and make the best of the situation, make sure I reach my destination and don’t end up in the middle of nowhere…..because if I wont be able to do what I’ve set out to do than it will definitely hurt me….
Will I find some extra love, affection, attachment to motivate me and will I be able to get everything other than hatred back into me only time will tell….will I reach my destination or will my tank run empty????
Even I don’t know……
Monday, January 12, 2009
Chapter 4 - The Journey Continues
Its really amazing to note the difference in ease with which an ordinary person can notice the technical details of an aircraft with an increase in size of the plane. When you think of it, it seems obvious but to sit there and notice for the first time after you’ve read about them and you know about them and all the time, tried to visualize them, its an exciting prospect. Sitting in the Boeing 777(thinking of A340 or 330. I like Airbus over Boeing), I was feeling something similar. I had been on planes on a number of occasions before but they were all small ones – an A321 or a Boeing 737. Comparing their dimensions and interiors to this fuselage would be like comparing a Hum-V to a hatchback like Alto. I was too small to notice anything the last time I had boarded a considerably big plane. Now, sitting there in the middle of the plane on row 45 and looking at the wing assembly, I was at awe. All that I saw till that day on domestic planes was nothing compared to what I was looking at. I always have the habit of looking at parts and trying to make out what they do or to identify parts that I knew and there it was - a feast for my eyes. You could easily make out the flaps, ailerons and other control surfaces. And the plane itself was noticeably much more refined and well insulated than their domestic counterparts. It was like a child’s dream come true and I really can’t put in words how much I liked that. It was amazing – the smoothness, the complexity and the sheer brilliance of aircraft making, something that has a lot of similarities to f1 car aerodynamics. But as we finished taxiing and started waiting for our ATC clearance at the end of the runway, I could see lots of people sitting on the airport walls and on the small hillock just adjacent to the airport wall. There were small houses too on this hillock in typical Mumbai style. They were all watching at the planes taking off and I was uncomfortable with their proximity to the planes because they were directly in their slipstreams and in the wake of their engines. It was just too risky for them to lead their daily lives in such a place. Few days down the line and a déjà vu feeling hit me when I read a news bit that said that a few houses were blown away in the turbulent wake of an aircraft. It was an incident waiting to happen.
We took off and headed towards Gujarat and Pakistan and it was a pleasant flight and luckily it wasn’t raining by the time I took off (I couldn’t afford delays…not now!!). Over Arabian Sea and Pakistan and finally the physical exhaustion of the last few days finally started to show on me. The in flight entertainment system was no longer entertaining and the movie was now a stretch (It was 10,000 B.C). We were over Dubai and I decided to look outside for some time. I always thought the desert would be a barren yellow-brown stretch of land but it was far from that. It was actually very beautiful and awesome to look at (from 38K feet atleast :P). It had these beautiful patterns and connect-the-dots kind of art and it was good fun over the desert (Ship, dog, cat, ship, heart :P). Then came the black sea. OK it wasn’t black but it was huge. I mistook its dimensions. It took about 3 hours for us to cross it and you could never see land around. After the desert, this was very boring. The movie was also over and there was really nothing to make me stay awake and watch water water and more dark water. I dozed off over the black sea and I really didn’t care what I would miss seeing or not playing games or watching movies. Exhaustion beat excitement and body won over the brain!!!
I woke up some 2 and half hours later and the black sea was still beneath us, the only difference being I could see Europe now. We had almost crossed the sea and were about to enter Europe. It was a delight to me and the sleep had also made me feel better. There was still about 4 hours to go and that was a lot of time to watch a movie. Some might say it was the sleep but I don’t think so – whatever the reason, Europe was stunningly beautiful from above when compared to everything that I had seen till that day from the air. The sun was milder and brighter, the air was clear and the clouds were excellent (abbahh itla manchiga uhh uhh). It was a dream world – absolute delight to the eyes. Forget the movie, the world was out there. I already started to feel lucky to be able to fly over Europe during the day (as most fly at night). There were so many things to see. Hills, rivers, dams, towns or cities, roads or rails (difficult to differentiate), airports and greenery in all directions – you could see everything. It was amazing and it also sparked off a desire to go there some time. I dreamt of settling there with a small house near some hill and enjoy life till it ends (question is if I’d be alone or not). It was all nice and pleasant after the black sea. It was as if I had woken up in a different world. Things had taken a U turn after we crossed it. Things were much brighter and less gloomier than before it. But it was when we were over Austria and nearing Vienna that the real action started. Something that I had only hoped for, but never really thought would happen (like many other things) had happened. It just happened like that with no prior indications (as if indications were possible!!). But it really did take me by surprise. It took me a minute to let it sink in and I was completely alert after that, waiting for it to happen again. A plane had just flown head on to ours with less than a thousand feet horizontal separation and maybe 500 to 1000 feet vertical (di dikki di dikki di dikki). I was not ready for it and that was the only reason I had not noticed the paintwork and the airline logos. Otherwise, one could easily read them on the other plane at that distance. I was determined to read it the next time it happened. I had expected this as I knew it was normal over Europe for planes to fly above, below, side by side, etc but it never occurred to me that they could fly head on in opposite directions. It was unnerving to imagine things going wrong at close to sound speed but at the same time it was kick ass stuff…Awesome!!
There were many occasions after that where I was able to see planes. Unfortunately I was never really able to read the airline names due to the relative speed I guess though some of them like Swiss air, Virgin and Lufthansa were recognizable due to their paintwork. On one occasion I had 3 planes at the same time in my small oval window. That was how much fun it was. You could see another plane easily in these clear sunny skies. They would shine and almost all of them would look black when seen from far. Then they would get closer and closer and some of them would then go down and bank to the right and disappear under the plane, others would rise and bank and fly over the plane. Others would just go away and away till they were no longer visible. And to see all of that was truly breath-taking. And on four occasions, there were planes going in the opposite direction almost on the same vertical level and pretty close. But the moment to cherish was somewhere over Frankfurt. I don’t know if it was the main airport or not but the GPS showed Frankfurt nonetheless. We were flying over an airport (40000 feet) and you could see below you all these planes lining up for approach (to land i.e.,) one after another in a straight line and others taking off and turning, the airport buildings and the runways (and some planes big enough to spot) and its here that all long distance flight that don’t stop at this airport stay at a higher flight level (like ours) to clear airspace for planes landing and taking off – so u get to see more planes flying along with you or dart past in the opposite direction. So it was quite a busy time for my eyes. One misconception I had was broken on this flight though. I always thought that the white streaks left behind by the planes that one can see from the ground as they flew high were made by smoke from the engines or something like that. As I learned more and more about aircrafts, it looked ridiculous to me. But I was never able to think of why they were formed. I got my answer over Europe. It is actually formed as a plane cuts through the layer of cloud at high altitude. I guess this flat layer forms at an altitude above which clouds don’t form, like a boundary. Atleast that was what I felt when I saw a neighboring plane do it (as I couldn’t see whats behind my plane!!!). Its like a plane cuts through clouds and disrupts the layer creating these streaks until they reset again. Once we crossed Austria and till we reached London, there were planes and planes everywhere. Even when I was in London, all I could see were planes. Its hard to digest even when you know its common.
Over Germany, France and the Netherlands and there we were crossing the English channel. It was also good to look at, atleast from the sky. Boats crossing the channel and England on one side with Europe on the other. You can actually see both shores and it’s a picturesque sight. It took only about half an hour from Paris to London but it took about an hour to find space to land in Heathrow. As the plane circled the town in twister type circles going down then up and then again down, I got a birds eye view of the city that ruled our country for centuries. The houses were all organized and stereotype – as if someone had copy pasted everything. The cricket grounds were full of people playing in whites (padathi padathi). Most football grounds were empty except for one stadium in which some rock show was going on. One would get an impression of a properly organized city right from the first sight of the city and its really commendable for a mega city to be organized (unlike in our case). Anyways every place has its pluses and negatives. And while awaiting permission to land, I could once again feel the cut-throat job that was air trafficking and aircraft piloting. Every time our plane banked right or left, you could see another Virgin Atlantic Airbus A340 on the left (my side) and some other plane on the right. It meant there were (as far as I could see) 3 planes doing circles in the same flight path one after the other going up and down till the runway cleared. It could be imagined as a hurricane type spiral having planes moving around its outer edges in circles from top to the bottom and then up again. And all this time you could see planes taking off and flying away from London. What a high pressure job that would be. After sometime, I couldn’t see the Virgin Atlantic anymore and I got the reason for that soon as we began our final approach towards the runway at Heathrow. As we landed, I was as excited as ever. We were going past the British Airways section (as I call it) and then on and on and finally we reached our bay and parked right beside a Virgin Boeing 747-400. There I was, in London, less than 36 hours since I had received my visa and that seemed like ages ago. Jetta!!!!
I never really got the dimensions of Heathrow on my trip. The return journey helped a bit, and so did Google earth after that, but it wasn’t clear to me when I was there. I walked a long long distance to the immigration queues full of Chinkies and firangis (there was a school that had brought its students on excursion too!!! All of them ching ping pong types listening to chinki music on our jagdish market quality mp3 players) and all and I didn’t like the fact that people with US and European passports had separate lines and virtually no fuss at all. I saw other people being questioned and verified and all. Finally it was my turn and I really had no problem getting through (well the clerk was a girl..so that’s understandable). There were so many warning boards around and instructions not to give false information. I remember one - “Blah blah we can now access and obtain complete information on an immigrant even before he steps into our country blah blah” – Jason Bourne, Minority Report types. But the thought of non authorized access was something. The rest of it was ok but I had lot of things on my mind along with taking in the surroundings (which were not spectacular by the way). It’s the same everywhere. One different thing would be the quantum of information and indications and other stuff like that. If you would pick up a guy used to so much information at display, he would not go from Kothapet to Dilsukhnagar (or Kachiguda to Narayanaguda) properly. For us, we won’t even bother to read (frankly, there’s too much information at places) cause that’s implied. But in many ways, information is always useful. Then finally after so many hours of flying at close to speed of sound, I was walking towards my brother – the hero of the story….I had done it and I was going to meet Kimi – the man who made me travel this far (though he did not sponsor my trip :-P, that credit goes to someone else)!!!!
Chapter 3 - The Journey Begins
24 hours ago I was sleeping (though not peacefully), 18 hours ago I was calling the embassy and the travel agent, 16 hours ago I got a call from the embassy asking me to collect my visa in person from them, 14 hours ago I was paying for my ticket, less than 12 hours ago I was shopping, 10 hours ago I was packing, less than 6 hours ago I finalized everything and went to sleep and there I was sitting in a car going towards the Shamshabad International Airport. It was hard to believe what was happening and harder still to suppress my excitement. Forget being Icy. This was it, the moment to cherish. Was this true or was this a dream? Was this really happening? Had I done everything correctly? Was everything right? Because even at this stage there was no margin for error. One tiny mistake and everything would be gone as abruptly as it had happened. But after going though so much and having dragged it this far, there could not be any more mistakes (??).
Once again, my family, friends and their wishes and prayers coupled with my luck and fate had done wonders for me. I had not even had the time to call everyone and tell them what had happened because I did not have enough time to even pack properly. Everything happened in the nick of time and at the last possible moment. But what mattered was that they HAD happened. It no longer mattered what tension I had to go through, nor the effort that went into it. It no longer bothered me how I packed or if I had forgotten anything, all that mattered was that I was going to see Kimi, I was going to see formula 1 and I was going out of the country, something that I had thought impossible.
I was making calls left, right and centre and telling everyone what had happened, though briefly. Even though I did it till the last moment, even from Mumbai, I was unable to call everyone but I had asked people to pass on the message. It was a shock for some of them as it had happened unexpectedly. Others thought I was playing a bad joke waking them up so early in the morning. Some might have even took it for a dream. But it was real and happening!!. For those who knew it all along, it was a relief I guess. They felt happy for me and they knew it would be gross injustice if I wasn’t given a visa (and in time). I knew I left it a little too late but still I didn’t deserve to be rejected.
As I waited outside the airport with my parents, I could not help thinking of all the things that my Family had given me. They never said no to what I wanted and they never imposed themselves on me. They always gave me my freedom, my own space. They always let me do what I liked and they never blamed me for the consequences or took credit for the good. They were always there to support me and let me make my decisions and chose my paths. They would only tell me the plusses and negatives of a path before I chose it and once I was on it, no matter how radical my paths were or what outsiders thought, it never really bothered them as long as I liked what I was doing.
The airport was huge and much better than Begumpet (bound to be!!). It’s an airy, glass structure with apparent security drawbacks and having much larger capacity than what Hyderabad was offering to the airlines. Nonetheless, an iconic airport would definitely boost Hyderabad’s image and help it to cope with the ever increasing air traffic (until the global crisis i.e.,). A good airport always helps.
My luggage was underweight and everyone around me was the opposite. The check in counter clerk was absolutely surprised and excited about it (don’t know why). Hello!! Calm down dude, that’s all I could manage to pack. He wanted to know if I was going on an office trip but I told him I was going to visit my brother. Come to think of it now he was much better and co-operative than his counterpart in Heathrow. He gave me the best seat possible for the international leg and I thank him for that (you don’t get what u ask or expect generally)!!!
8 o clock and the Jet airways flight to Mumbai was ready to leave. It had arrived late and was going to be late by half an hour. But one funny thing that caught my eye from the you-can-see-everything waiting lounge was our runway. Its strange and out of my reach to understand why the runway is inclined. Planes have to land on a downward slope. I happen to mention it to some people and it always made us laugh to imagine a pilot and the plane in a telugu movie comedy scene dropping down on landing and running down the incline before taking off. You might say it helps pick up speed but that’s senseless. These things have jet engines. They don’t need inclines!!!
Some time later, I was in Mumbai with my friend from Powai (Oxford returned :-P) waiting to meet me there. It was drizzling when we landed but it was raining like hell by the time I got into the shuttle bus. From that moment on, it rained virtually everywhere I went. It was very heavy with the runway getting flooded but that wouldn’t bother me as long as my plane was on time. Changing terminals was boring (despite me being on the phone with my friends) and unorganized due to unscheduled delays but as soon as I saw Eddy’s (I hope that u have read enough to know that it’s a name changed) familiar face, it was like Alex finding a living human in Madagascar (hypothetically). I had thought I’d have a lot of time to wait in Mumbai but I was wrong. The delays had left me with only 15 minutes to talk to my friend and crib on how dirty the place was. I had to go into immigration and I bade him good bye. After going smoothly through everything, I was left with 1.5 hour to wait for my flight. Luckily though, I had to wait only for about half an hour before boarding. I was more than happy to spend it talking to my parents, brother and continuing my conversation by sms with my very special friend back home. I took on record the last minute wish (gift) lists from everyone and got on board. It was finally the moment of truth and after all of this, there could be just one final hurdle between me and the British GP under normal circumstances – the immigration clerk in Heathrow. Unless he/she kicked me out of his country, there was no one to stop me from meeting Kimi (assuming everything else like the technical details of the plane were all normal!!) with the exception of God. But He made all this happen and I had a gut feeling that he wouldn’t be that insensitive to make a miracle happen first and then kill me :-P. After all, Gods are good and I was not in a Norton N-22(Source: Airframe)(Though Boeing is synonymous to Norton to me)!!. So in all probability, I was in safe hands. (P.S You’d realize the depth of the above sentences if you watch Air Crash Investigation on NGC. P.S continued: You wouldn’t want to board flights once you start watching it…it’s a deathtrap up there...hahahaha….Can’t help if u didn’t get the joke..)
Here we go then to meet the ICEMAN!!
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