Its not perfect.. but its mine..

Wandering around in cyber-space, I just stumbled on something so poignantly simple in its beauty that I can't even wait to come up with some nice words to describe it, before I share it here. This just cant wait. The song is by a stand-up comedian called Tim Minchin. This song is like the 'doosra' in his repertoire. Listen to it. Till the end.

Luv-n-Luck,

Av

P.S. - You can find the lyrics here.

Coders Only!

Warning: Very long geeky post!

/* This post is written to share a few laughs */

In the light of my recently celebrated non-anniversary of my mindless IT coder job, I wanted to share a few coder's jokes, compiled from various sources. People who do not plead guilty to the tags of coder or geek are encouraged to NOT read the following in interest of their continued sanity.

The rest of my brethen, join in for a few smiles, giggles and laughs!

Here goes..

1) Q: Whats the object-oriented way to become wealthy?

A: Inheritance

2) Q: how many programmers does it take to change a light bulb?

A: None, that's a hardware problem!

3) Q: How many hardware engineers does it take to change a light bulb?

A: None, it'll be fixed in the drivers!

4) Q: Why do programmers always mix up Halloween and Christmas?

A: Because Oct 31 == Dec 25!

5) If you hold a Unix shell up to your ear you can hear the C!

6) C++ is a modern language: your parents can't touch your privates, but your friends can!

7) Ascii a stupid question, get a stupid ansi!

8) if(!this.Kill(me))

me.Strength++;

9) There are 10 types of people in the world. Those who understand binary and those who get laid.

A) Q: How do you keep a programmer in the shower all day?

A: Give him a bottle of shampoo which says "lather, rinse, repeat."

B) "Knock Knock!"

"Who is it?"

Very long pause...

"Java"

C) Programming is like sex. ONE mistake and you have to support it for the rest of your life!

D) The Programmers' Cheer:

Shift to the left, shift to the right!

Pop up, push down, byte, byte, byte!

E) Eight bytes walk into a bar. The bartender asks, “Can I get you anything?”

“Yeah,” reply the bytes. “Make us a double.”

/* Rajnikant Fact Collection (RFC) */

1. When Rajnikant throws exceptions, it’s across the room.

2. All arrays Rajnikant declares are of infinite size, because Rajnikant knows no bounds.

3. Rajnikant doesn’t have disk latency because the hard drive knows to hurry the hell up.

4. Rajnikant writes code that optimizes itself.

5. Rajnikant can’t test for equality because he has no equal.

6. Rajnikant’s first program was kill -9.

7. Rajnikant burst the dot com bubble.

8. Rajnikant can write infinite recursion functions…and have them return.

9. Rajnikant can solve the Towers of Hanoi in one move.

10.Rajnikant doesn’t bug hunt as that signifies a probability of failure, he goes bug killing.

11.Rajnikant’s keyboard doesn’t have a Ctrl key because nothing controls Rajnikant.

/* End of RFC */

/*~~~~~~~~ Start of Jokes Section ~~~~~~~~~*/

A guy is standing on the corner of the street smoking one cigarette after another. A lady walking by notices him and says "Hey, don't you know that those things can kill you? I mean, didn't you see the giant warning on the box?!"

"That's OK" says the guy, puffing casually "I'm a computer programmer"

"So? What's that got to do with anything?"

"We don't care about warnings. We only care about errors."

/*~~~~~~~~~ Joke Seperator~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*/

A Cobol programmer made so much money doing Y2K remediation that he was able to have himself cryogenically frozen when he died. One day in the future, he was unexpectedly resurrected. When he asked why he was unfrozen, he was told:

"It's the year 9999 - and you know Cobol"

/*~~~~~~~~~ Joke Seperator~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*/

Jesus and Satan have an argument as to who is the better programmer. This goes on for a few hours until they come to an agreement to hold a contest with God as the judge. They set themselves before their computers and begin. They type furiously, lines of code streaming up the screen, for several hours straight. Seconds before the end of the competition, a bolt of lightning strikes, taking out the electricity. Moments later, the power is restored, and God announces that the contest is over. He asks Satan to show his work. Visibly upset, Satan cries and says, “I have nothing. I lost it all when the power went out.” God says, “Very well, let us see if Jesus has fared any better.” Jesus presses a key, and the screen comes to life in vivid display, the voices of an angelic choir pour forth from the speakers. Satan is astonished. He stutters, “B-b-but how?! I lost everything, yet Jesus’ program is intact! How did he do it?”

God chuckles, “Everybody knows… Jesus saves!”

/*~~~~~~~~~~ End of Jokes Section~~~~~~~~~~~~*/

/* And to wrap it up, a beautiful poem, a-la Dr. Seuss: */

If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,

And the bus is interrupted as a very last resort,

And the address of the memory makes your floppy disk abort,

Then the socket packet pocket has an error to report!

If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,

And the double-clicking icon puts your window in the trash,

And your data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't hash,

Then your situation's hopeless, and your system's gonna crash!

You can't say this? What a shame sir!

We'll find you another game sir.

If the label on the cable on the table at your house,

Says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,

But your packets want to tunnel on another protocol,

That's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall,

And your screen is all distorted by the side effects of gauss

So your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,

Then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,

'Cause as sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gonna hang!

When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy on the disk,

And the microcode instructions cause unnecessary RISC,

Then you have to flash your memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM.

Quickly turn off the computer and be sure to tell your mom!

/* End of post. Hope you enjoyed it! */

/* Users are encouraged to leave comments on my comments! */

/* Luv-n-Luck, */

/* Av */

A curious co-incidence..

Today is the would-have-been 2nd anniversary of me taking up a job in the alternately flourishing and floundering IT industry. While I am extremely happy to be not in a mundane developer job anymore, I was surely contemplating posting something about it.

A few minutes back I opened my old acoustic guitar cover, and it has yielded a poem I had written way back in early 2005, when I was saying my good-byes to my graduate college. Corny and clumsy as it is, I wanted to share it because it brought a flood of memories back to me.

The poem is in keeping with the theme of a farewell, and while it was untitled back then, I've thought of christening it as

NOT A FAREWELL

When tomorrow starts without me
I'll not be there to see
If the rising sun would find your eyes
All filled with tears for me..

I wish so much that you wouldnt cry
The way you did today
While thinking of the many things
We didn't get to say..

I know how much you love me
As much or more than I love you
And each time that I think of you
I know you'll miss me too..

So when tomorrow starts without me
Don't think that we're far apart
For every time you think of me
I'll be right here, in your heart...

Ta-daa! Its ok, don't take my case over it. :)

Luv-n-Luck,

Av

Blind Faith..

I helped a visually-impaired person cross the road today while I was on my way to the lab. This is one opportunity that I always jump at. In retrospect, I must admit that I primarily see it not just as an opportunity to reach out and help somebody, but an opportunity to take the time out to count my blessings. When I re-realize how often I take them for granted, I really wonder whether actually I am not the blind one. Sometimes you need to close your eyes to really open them.

All said and done, helping someone leaves a warm feeling inside me, and it just makes my day. Every person, in the moment of complete faith on you, responds differently to the guiding touch of your hand, and every time is a different experience that escapes words.

Today's experience reminded me of a quote that I just had to share:

"Be good to people, not because they are nice, but because YOU are nice.."

Luv-n-Luck,

Av

MJ : A Flash Mob Tribute

This was done at Stockholm, Sweden just a few days back.. Check it out!!

Information on flash mobs can be found here.

Oh hell yeah! I SOOO wanna be a part of something like this. Anybody in Pune game?

Let the music play on in our hearts..

Luv-n-Luck,

Av

Anagram fun!

"All the life's wisdom can be found in anagrams. Anagrams never lie."

ASTRONOMER = MOON STARER

ASTRONOMERS = MORONS STARE

RADIOASTRONOMER = MOON RAIDER'S ROAST

GUITARIST = I TUG SITAR

ROCK GUITARIST = OUR TRAGIC SKIT / AORTIC GUT RISK

Maybe its time I took another look at my potential career choices!

Av

A piece of HIStory..

The world was somewhere in the dying weeks of the year 1995. In one of the forgotten bylanes somewhere in Mumbai, walking alongside his mother, was a little kid, oblivious to the implications of both the time-frame and space-frame. Something caught his eye, and in an era when the word 'window-shopping' was probably yet to be invented, suddenly the little child was transfixed, staring at something through the display pane of a shop. Navigating between the twin storms generated by the newly discovered overpowering urge to own it, and the stark reality of the price of the object of desire, the kid reached the shore of compromise, trying hard to convince himself that it wasn't nearly worth all of the 250 Rupees of his hard-saved money, and walked away from the window.

They say God made mothers because He couldn't be everywhere. And God knew, albeit a jiffy after the mother, that the kid wanted it. Wanted it badly. Twenty feet beyond the shop window, mom's love asserted itself in the form of insistence. Half-resisting, the kid was practically pushed into the shop, and a small cardboard box pushed into his eager hands. The mother even pretended that she was 'lending' him the 250 bucks, and that he was to pay her back from his savings when they reached home. The kid could never figure out how to tell his mother how much he loves her. But that's what makes mothers such a good substitute for God. They don't need to be told.

Two whole days later, the ten-year old was nearly dancing with anticipation when he finally arrived home, a few hundred kilometers away from Mumbai. He tore through the plastic packing, and with shaking hands, held the two cassette covers, neither anticipating, nor fully comprehending what was to come. Out came the cassette and went straight into the cassette player. And as HIStory played, history repeated itself, as it already had, millions of times around the world. The boy would never be the same again.

The first piece of music that transfixes your soul is like the first teacher who holds your hand and teaches you to write, suddenly empowering you with a new paradigm. Through the years, you meet a number of teachers who open your eyes to numerous other things, but the first one will always hold a special place in some corner of your heart.

Fast forward to 15 years later, and it has been about 9 years since the kid has heard from the cassette. He often contemplates pursuing a serious career in music, but he has moved to other genres and expressions of music. He plays the guitar now, propelled towards a musical direction that so very often mocks at the very genre of the music on the original cassette. But today, suddenly, he is vividly cognizant of the debt that he owes to the person who created the music that taught the boy's heart to sing.

Rest in Peace MJ.

Av

Playing for Change

"The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.."

Every once in a while, blogwise, I get into one of these ruts (and given the above line, closer to the grave). Then comes along something that kicks me out of the rut and steers me clear of the grave.

Every once in a while, I also develop a(n extremely undesirable) feeling about what I'm doing in life being superior to what most other people are doing. Then comes along something that makes me literally stop dead in my tracks and re-examine how much value am I adding to the world in terms of things that really matter.

And once in a while, there comes along something which does both of the above, and I just have to share it with all of you. :D

Playing for Change is a worldwide multimedia project aimed at bringing people together through the all-pervasive power of music. Each of the tracks embedded below have been performed by multiple musicians, geographically separated by thousands of miles across five continents, The ensemble of extremely talented musicians includes musicians who are members of a choir or structured music group alongside musicians performing on the streets around the world, working towards a common dream.
You can find a more detailed explanation here.

When I first stumbled onto this project while rambling around in cyberspace, I was stunned to hear the performances of varied origin merging seamlessly into each other to create musical entities of such infinite beauty. When the street musicians perform, calling out to a new world of hope, you can see the moisture in their eyes, and feel the years of experiences peeking through the quaver in their voices. The emotions in the voices and instruments all around the world have been beautifully captured in a way unparalleled by anything else known to me, that has been produced under constraints of this nature.

Stand by Me




Chanda Mama
(No that's not a typo, try out the vid!)




No More Trouble




One Love




Don't Worry

Please help spread the word around by putting up a banner on your blogs like I've done on mine. More of us need to hear of this endeavour.

On a pensive note, rather than write equations and programs, I yearn to write this melody of hope, love, brotherhood and acceptance across the lives of people. To me, THAT is making a significant difference. This is really the kind of stuff that I really want to do with my life. I shall. To quote one of the tracks, A Change is Gonna Come... :D

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Happy Birthday to Me!!

I'm a quarter century old today.. :D
Luv,
Av

P.S. - Blogposts coming soon..

Ascension

The above image is courtesy Jason Evans from The Clarity of Night. He held a story writing competition, with stories inspired by the photograph above. The challenging part was, the story had to be limited to 250 words. I came to know of the contest with only a couple of days left for submission. I could not come up with anything within that time-frame, largely, I suspect, due to the self-limiting belief that I haven't done any story-writing before. So I ardently, if passively, followed the contest and I must say, it was an absolute pleasure.

Weeks later, after the winners have been chosen and applauded, my meandering mind has finally generated something, so here is my take. The first story I've ever written. Try not to be brutal with your comments. Here goes :

The Irony of FILE

"Wherever and whenever we are together, always hold me to your left" she said. “So I wouldn’t interfere with the purpose of your life.”
Did she know that she was contradicting herself? I wouldn't ever know.
But I still sleep on the right side of the bed, alone, smiling at the irony.

We bought exactly identical denims on our shared 18th birthday, to mark our metamorphosis from boys to men.

“18 till we die” we decided. Did we really comprehend those words? I'm not sure.
But I still wear those denims on the day only I grow older every year, alone, smiling at the irony.

One of my earliest memories is one of him sitting pillion on my tricycle, facing backwards.
One day, years later, he introduced me to her, bringing her to me on his bike, seated backwards, so that I could not identify my promised "hot date" from afar and backtrack with nervousness.

They both used to say that too often in life we miss what we have and will have, because we are too busy looking at what we have left behind. And then we used to laugh at the irony. They were both veterans at dyslexia. But was their’s the only kind?

Some people fear the slits at the bottom and the top of the elevator. I fear the invisible crack that runs down the middle, causing the two sides to ascend at different speeds.
I still ride the elevator backwards, alone, smiling at the irony.

Av

P.S. - Just for the record, its EXACTLY 250 words. :D

The girl at office..

In the dying hours of another V-day spent alone, I can't help but reminisce about her..

So much for not dipping your pen into the company ink. Here goes..

I see her often at office. I wish I could say I see her everyday. But history bears testimony to the fact that fate has long been the tormentor of love. Sometimes we talk, and sometimes we don't. But I hardly notice that, because she speaks to me beyond words. Her very presence speaks to my soul. When I can see her, I don't just see. I observe. I hear. I smell. I taste. I feel. She makes me understand what John Denver was referring to when he sang "You fill up my senses".

The gal who struck up the conversation with me on the first day, when I was still gathering courage to smile at her.

The gal who used to pretend she didn't notice when I walked in through the door of the training room, only to check me out later when I was busy with my work.

The gal who was unsure of exactly how far I would allow someone while having a personal discussion.

The gal who was genuinely concerned more about me cracking the acceptance test than herself.

The gal who tries to be by my side in a group photo, even if it means me holding a couple of fingers as horns behind her head.

The gal who smiles assuringly at me when someone opposes my opinion over something.

The gal who likes to say "thank you" or "sorry" to me once in a while, for reasons that generally escape me.

The gal who likes to pretend that she didn't really care, when I open a door for her, or walk on the outer side of the street.

The gal who keeps track of how long it has been since we had a photo taken of just the two of us.

The gal who blushes and lowers her gaze when I just look into her eyes without smiling when she wishes me goodmorning.

The gal who pauses outside the music room and listens to me pounding on the drums, or strumming the strings, without coming in because she thinks it would distract me.

The gal who sometimes gives me big, warm smiles for apparently no reason at all.

The gal who reads up on some topics on wikipedia, that she knows I'm currently high on, just so that she can understand what the blabbering is all about.

The gal who assures me that it makes her feel good when I am protective of her, when I express my doubts about how far people should interfere in each other's lives.

The gal who gives me the whole box of traditional sweets sent to her from home, because she knows I love them.

The gal who sends me meaningless messages over chat when she can't think of anything to say to start the conversation.

The gal who calls me names, or pretends to be angry at me, if she feels that I haven't been giving her attention for the last few days.

The gal who I can compliment just by smiling at her and nodding my head in silent approval.

The gal whose cute nose wiggles ever so slightly, acting as a give-away sign, when she disapproves of something.

The gal who pretends to be not very hungry and asks me to finish her tiffin, as she knows I crave home-cooked food.

The gal who wears a new accessory to office and then waits patiently for me to take notice.

The gal who puts up with my wierd ideas and numerous offshoots in the course of a discussion.

The gal who sometimes stays back late because my work is not done, just so that we can go back in the same bus.

The gal who then lets me sleep on the bus, even though she wants to talk.

The gal who holds my hand just a jiffy too long when we shake hands.

The gal who learns the crazy handshakes I teach her and agrees to do them everytime we meet.

The gal who pauses a moment before we part everytime, evaluating the possibility of a good-bye hug.

The gal who gently snuggles up to me when I place an arm around her, and sometimes lays her head gently on my shoulder.

The babe with the beautiful hair.

The hot chick with the long legs, AND high heels.

The enchantress with the mesmerizing eyes.

I could go on and on.. But there's just one thing I'd like to say:

I really wish all of these were the one, same gal!

Hahaha! Valentine's fool!!

But on a personal note, a big, warm hug to all my female friends who can relate to something above. You are indeed special to me, and in my own quirky way, I love you more than you'll ever know.

Keep the faith,

Av

A knot in time..

This is a thread of thought that emerged in the course of a very "no-souls-barred" discussion that I had with one of my close friends in Pune. I thought I would like to share it with everyone else. Here goes:

Once in a while, everyone tends to have a really deep, meaningful discussion with a friend, a parent, a spouse or a total stranger. In retrospect, a great conversation feels like a great moment that you share forever with that person. I like to think of it as a little private isle that the two of you discovered in the middle of the ocean, hidden from everyone else.

On the surface, a great conversation seems to be all about two people sharing a moment. But dive underneath the surface of momentary perception into the waters of continually observing consciousness and the paradigm changes. To me, a conversation is like a game of chess. At every point, there are numerous ways in which it could develop, depending on what you say, or how you percieve what the other person has said and what thoughts, feelings or emotions it triggers inside you. And vice-versa.

In this perspective it is quite obvious to conclude that the way one reacts to something is not governed by causes which are ephemeral. Rather it is governed by your whole life. By your perceptions of all the experiences you have had, the subconscious co-relations that you have made, and the inferences you have drawn from them. It is about the fact that when you really speak from the heart to someone whom you trust with your real emotions, you are bringing your whole self, your complete existence to the table, to that ONE moment in time.

Secondly, when you really open up to someone and share with them the very core of your feelings, and the other person does the same, both the persons are in a place where they are quite vulnerable. The beauty of that moment always outlasts the momentary, and the warm fuzzy feeling inside oneself that you take away is most certainly far from evanescent.

I like to think of a two people sharing a great conversation as two long threads in time, intertwining for a brief moment before flowing off in different directions again. It is like a reference point that you can mentally re-visit at will, and it will remind you of all the warmth that you have in your life. Quite contrary to Mr Schopenhauer's theory, eh?

On a lighter note, is that why they say that love is a knotty affair??

Luv-n-Luck,

Av

When Love kills Love

Since today morning, I have been listening to a single song on infinite loop so I thought that I would share it with everyone. The song is called When Love Kills Love and its by the band Scorpions. Scorpions has always been one of my favourite bands for their uncanny ability to strike an amazing balance between intensity and sensitivity. Then, a few weeks ago, I bought a DVD of their concert Acoustica and life hasn't been the same ever since. The concert was performed inside a monastery called Convento do Beato in Lisbon, Portugal. The DVD was shot using 12 cameras and needless to say, is breathtaking. The ensemble included a piano, a cello and an extra percussion section other than the regular band members. They performed a nice mix of their all time hits, a few new songs and even a couple of covers, totalling up to 21 songs. The most amazing part is that the music arrangements for all the songs were completely re-done for the acoustic instruments setup. Absolutely a must-check-out piece of rock music history!

The lyrics for the song are also superbly written. Listen closely!
Here's the song:


This is probably the first and only acoustic song yet to which I have head-banged like I did today morning. I just couldn't resist its groovy feel. Also, I thought that it would make an interesting follow-up to the last post, giving the Hedgehog's Dilemma a new, intriguing twist!
In closing, here are my instantaneous thoughts on the topic:

When love kills love
Its just love gone blind
For true love never dies
Lingers on in heart & mind

When love kills love
Its no more than suicide
I thought I had you killed
But it was me who died..

Luv-n-luck,
Av

A picture, a story, a song, a theory, a thought and a poem!

Once upon a time on a very cold winter night (unlike what winter pretends to be, here in Pune), a group of hedgehogs was shivering in their little hole in the ground. Misery written all over their little snouts, they were praying for the first sign of summer and huddling together for some warmth. This was when an interesting situation presented itself. When they were apart, they would feel cold, and when they came closer to share their heat, their spines would hurt each other. So they had to choose either cold over pain or pain over cold.

Kelly Rowland and Nelly collaborated on a totally awesome rap/hip-hop song called DILEMMA, that I absolutely love. It won the 2003 Grammy Award for Best Rap/Sung Collaboration. Its one of the most groovy songs I've ever heard and makes me wanna dance every single time I hear it. Check it out!

But I'm sure you wonder why am I talking about this odd combination of a creature and two crooners?? Well, that needs yet another pic, and here it is!

This (not-so-friendly-looking) gentleman was named Arthur Schopenhauer. His work has influenced people right from the composer Richard Wagner to the psychoanalytic psychiatrist Sigmund Freud. Mr. Schopenhaeur was the first one to refer to a social psychology phenomenon called the Hedgehog's Dilemma, in his book called Parerga und Paralipomena. The theory basically refers to a metaphoric situation described in the story above, with the argument that even with the best interests in mind, intimacy in human relations can not occur without harm to both the persons involved. This leads to over-cautious behavior, which is directly responsible for fragile relationships. A corollary to this, also proposed in the same book is that if one posses enough internal warmth, one can avoid society and subsequently the psychological discomfort (argued to be) inevitable from social interaction.

To me, the paradoxical part of the theory is that such behavior is actually in the interest of both the people involved, because it protects them from the risk of getting hurt. Another funny part is that the behavior occurs inspite of sharing a goodwill and intention of a close relationship.

Secondly, the corollary is used to explain introversion and isolationism. I might be wrong, but somehow I just can't bring myself to believe that most of the people who exhibit these characteristics are really 'internally warm'. To make things complicated, I myself display traces of both the behaviours (though I've managed to tone things down over the past few years). I can surely vouch for the fact that a lot of times, it is not because you are feeling "warm enough' or for self-protection, but just because you are in a brainspace where you don't want your thoughts to be disturbed. Sometimes it might also occur because you dont psychologically percieve the interaction with or the company of a set of people (or society in general) as a high-value proposition. Then again, is that exactly what Mr. Schopenhauer refers to as "warmth"? Am I contradicting myself? Tell me what you think about this. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Just in keeping with the theme of this post, I want to end it with an anonymous poem titled

The Dilemma

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk rejection.
To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk ridicule.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love.
Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave.
He has forfeited his freedom.
Only a person who takes risks is free.

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Rendezvous with Excellence!

Today was a special day indeed. I had a rare opportunity to meet, listen to and personally interact with somebody who has made India proud at the highest level in his chosen field. Its was a wonderful privilege.

The first impression that Pullela Gopichand leaves on your is the absolute inner peace that reflects from his demeanor. That is just moments before you realize that he is a very quiet man outwardly too. A few minutes into the talk, and he unravels the mystery: "If you have a legal[sic] vent to all the energy inside you, it makes you peaceful at all other times".

What I liked the most about Gopi, as he's fondly called (but apparently dislikes), was that he has struck the fine balance between being humble, but being unapologetically proud of his accomplishments, without trying to play down the price he has paid for them. Being soft-spoken, but at the same time, being able to verbalize his love and commitment towards the sport, in an infectiously passionate manner, that left the whole auditorium awe-struck.

When asked what sacrifices he made on the demanding road to success, he stumped everybody with the elusively obvious, simple reasoning of: "If you love what you are doing, nothing else that you give up feels like a sacrifice" .

And finally, I asked him what he thought about Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 Hour Theory , and if out of his experience as a player and a coach, he could quantify success. He just gave one of his soothing smiles, and as the picture inset above was taken, said the words that will stay with me for the rest of my life: "I know only one number for success. 100. Give it your 100% !".

I Will!
Av

P.S. - A load of thanks to my friend Sayo for the timely snap!

Stuff I'm listening to..

I thought that I would share with everyone what I've been listening to throughout all weekend. The inset vidz are actually only audios, so that you don't get distracted from the music.

Lets start with some hip-hop (yes, this is still Av posting!)

This one's by a Toronto based nu-funk band called GOD MADE ME FUNKY! Its called LUV T'DAY and is on the OST of American Pie: Beta House. It plays during the pool party in the very last scene. I love the groove. Check it out!



This is a heavy one by the immensely skilled band Necrophagist. Their genre of music, believe it or not, is called Technical Death Metal.

This last one is by DEEP PURPLE. Its called SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE SCREAMING, and its what I've been listening to the whole last week, not just the weekend. The lazy-sounding leads by Steve Morse are addictive!



There you go. My musical palette for most of the weekend, spanning three musical styles, laid out for you. Hope you like it!

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Genius!!

As you can see on the right, I have added a fresh new widget to the blog. Its from the CriticsRant blog readability test. According to it, you apparently need to be a genius to read and understand this blog. So for all the folks who have been happily following the random ramblings in this tiny corner of cyber-space, CONGRATS! You are all Geniuses!

I tried a number of blogs in the link, and no other blog gave the same result as this one. For a while, this massaged my bloated ego to great comfort. Then, suddenly sense raised its logical head. If a blog required the reader to be a genius to understand it, then given the statistic of only about 2% of population being geniuses, most people would not be able to follow it! Hmmm.. that kinda explains the dearth of comments. :D

Speaking of geniuses, Malcolm Gladwell's latest book has stirred up quite a hornet's nest by its unique take on the idea of genius. He argues that if you dedicate 10,000 hours of your life to ANYTHING that you are "just about okay" at, you shall get "world-class" at it. Now that offers some hope, doesnt it?

The argument presented is on similar lines of what one great polymath, Herb Simon proposed many many years back, saying that to become an expert required about 10 years of experience and internalizing about 50,000 chunks of information. One of his students called Anders Ericsson took it a step further when he developed the Theory of Skilled Memory. (Warning - pedantic link!!)

Probably to spice up the other end of the spectrum, Mr Gladwell also presents extensive statistical data to suggest that "making it big" is also a function hugely dependent on luck, principally in the form of where and when you were born. The data he has researched and put together is quite compellingly varied and hence comes dangerously close to destroying the idea of the self-made man.

Book reviews on the net fire away at how the arguments are not watertight, and indeed the 10,000 Hour criteria can surely not be heralded as a Necessary-and-Sufficient condition for success. Neither necessary nor sufficient, actually. The Beatles surely did not jam around for 10,000 hours before they made it big. Nor is every guitarist who has been playing for 20 years in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

But everything else apart, I really believe that the author's strength does not lie in presenting impeccable arguments. His forte is writing about abstract concepts, through the use of anecdotes and everyday examples, to arrive at a way of conveying slippery theories, that is at once vibrant, riveting and memorable. That is something he has always succeeded admirably at ever since his first book. Which is exactly what makes him dangerous. A gullible reader runs the very real risk of believing ideas which may not be that firmly rooted in reality.

In closing, a humbling quote by the great critic George Bernard Shaw, who has had something to say about practically everything under the sun:
"Common sense is instinct. Enough of it is genius."

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

FINALLY!!!!!!

What better way to kick off 2009? This is a something that I've waited and waited to post. God-willing, the time has come. I can almost not believe that I am finally doing this.

For days, weeks, months and years now, I'd been planning on getting a guitar rig. I just didn't want to compromise on any count, and so the process of evaluation and selection was becoming tediously long. Add to that the numerous times the plan got cancelled/postponed, and you might begin to appreciate why I can't believe that I've finally done it. As of now, I can proudly say, that sans the amp, I've finally got what I was looking for. In a long pre-planned display of self indulgence, I got the following during the last few weeks that I was away from the blog.

First came the processor, the LINE 6 POD X3Live :



And then the axe, the IBANEZ RG-420EG-SBK :

I was actually planning to brag about my brand-new equipment, but I'm feeling unusually modest and humble. It can probably be attributed to what a wise man once said :
"With great power comes great responsibility."

So I'll just close with yet another quote I live my life by:
"My tastes are very simple. I like the very best."

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

P.S. - Happy New Year people! May this year be the healthiest, wealthiest, most peaceful year of your life.. yet. :D