Holiday in Nice - Day 1

Allow a bunch of geeks to decide upon a holiday, and what you end up with is tons and tons of email chains, and a blightedly disgruntled lot who have no idea if they ever would go on that damned holiday. After having changed the destination over a half a dozen times and dropping and including over another dozen people in the glowing list of vacationers, we had finalized the city of Nice in France to be our patch of sunny paradise. We were 5 of us, knights in strapped shoes and bulging backpacks like eager yelping puppies waiting to explore the city of Nice and take a dig at the Cannes film festival.


Chaitanya from Milan and Pratap from Bordeaux were there in Nice, I guess by mid day Friday. And our host … the geek of multiple post docs, the dude with the most comic smile that stretches a mile long from ear to ear, the seasoned French dog with the coolest looking sea view apartment… and well I must say the best host we could’ve ever had, Bhakta the bum, had everything planned out for us. I flew in by early evening from London, and was welcomed by the three at the airport. After a couple of laborious minutes, we slowly got accustomed to each others existence, for it was no joke in trying to acknowledge people instead of their mail ids and chat ids, which by far is easier. On reaching Bhakta’s apartment, over a cup of hot coffee we caught up on all lost threads of gossip and status stories of friends, jokers, nut heads and other literally-non-existent batch mates. Once well rested we decided to go for a stroll on the pebbled sea shore, that was a stones throw away from the apartment.


The sea was melancholic, with a fast darkening horizon and an occasional shroud of sharp cold wind to drape around us, we continued to chat over pointless silly things such as work and research; while Prathap and myself began collecting multi colored pebbles like diamond hunters on African river banks. After about an hours’ stroll, when we were chilled to our bones and our feet cried out in mercy at the piercing stones and pebbles that tore at our soles, we went into the city and got into a local grocer’s market. Filling our baskets with the least needed items (of course, the slab of Roquefort and bag of Parmesan cubes are vital for our very survival!) we proceeded to check out and get back home in time to receive the last to join the group, the towering personality with a rather huge and constantly expanding base (waist-line), Sri Ramulu from Brussels. Hmm … it must have been while we were in the midst of an intellectually stimulating discussion on whether to have Ramulu reach home and then cook for us or to allow Bhakta dish out some of the Indian-abroad survival dishes; that Ramulu found his way home. Well, eventually all of us had a go at spoiling the dinner, which apparently looked better than it tasted! It was great. No not the dinner, just the thing of getting together after so many years into our respective obscurities. Pulling each others leg over cheesy slapstick jokes and going over our plans for Cannes for the zillionth time, we found the night slip by way too quickly. And thats day 1 of our “Holiday in Nice”!

Our Images and Us

Images have always played a pivotal role in our human lives. Our minds seem to constantly gather, analyze, modify, classify and deduce from images. Interestingly, all other forms of inputs that we accrue through the other senses as well, get translated into images before they are worked upon by the mind. Be it smell, taste, sound or touch … there always is a picture that we naturally associate with it. When I eat something that has a unique flavor, which I unconsciously label as an input worth recording for future reference, I either associate with that taste, images of the place where the food was consumed or … an image of the food itself as I dipped my fork/spoon into it. These images then form an encoding for the taste which can later be brought up for referrals, with little effort. So too it is with sound. I can't quite remember, ever listening to music without picturing something in my mind's eye. As I listen to a song, the music dictates the kind of imagery that is formed in my mind's screen, which then helps to encode this song in my mind. Needless to say, touch brings about far more powerful forms of imagery.

On the whole, any event, with all its different types of inputs; sights, sounds, tastes, smells and feelings are apparently encoded in the form of images. This is often the reason why when we try to recollect a music once heard or a sense of touch once felt, we always bring back with that recollection, the entire event or scene (inclusive of all other sense inputs). The most interesting part is when we begin to manipulate these images in our mind to form deductions. We often play around with these images, trying perpetually to discern patterns in them. And these patterns then go to make filters (our pre conceived notions, perceptions, etc) which affect how we accept and process and label future inputs. This process is best observed in growing children. In little toddlers, we see the sense of amazement or complete indiscriminate absorption of signals/inputs. However, when the same kid grows up, deducing and working with self discovered patterns, the kid begins to:

• Ignore some of the input.
• Label some of them with minimal analysis.
• Would be "startled" by an input when it goes against a formed pattern.

Humans in general, find it very hard to keep the influences of patterns at bay. Everything we ever do is in consonance with well defined patterns. This is apparent in our lifestyles, our civilizations, our wants … everything. The left brain classifies patterns, while the right deduces newer patterns. How we come to balance these two activities decides the kind of personality that we make of ourselves. More people tend towards being more left brained, in the sense that they predominantly choose to classify new input images based on previous classifications and deduced patterns; and look lesser for new patterns that may arise. There is a very thin line dividing our rationale in choosing to look for new patterns instead of going in for classification i.e. being so called open and receptive instead of being judgemental!

Gods be blamed! If you're wondering whats got into me, well it is this damn book that I am reading, turning me into a zyborg or something of that sort! I am trying to allow myself to generously dip into the pool of experiences that this book has in offering, while still trying to hold on to my sanity. Well … heck! Either way I am crazy J.

Bingo! The Coffee Table's First Crown

If there is one thing that I so damn good at, it would be slipping into non-existance and cribbing about it. Ever so often, I get excited with some new found, fun filled change in the droning monotony of my life. But then, even before I realise, I would be fast letting things settle down with those powdery cobwebs over hanging.

It is indeed an oxymoronic and highly ironic paradox (Ahh … it feels a bit reliving after using some stupid bombastic word.) On one hand, I want to lead a very settled life, with every day, every hour planed neatly and lived most appropriately. So that I can get to bed at night, flash through the day's happenings and feel warm and smug. And on the other hand, I want every moment of my life to be a thrilling surprise faced with all the childish elements of splendid anticipation, little agonies and wizening mishaps. I can then hold the memory of every moment like a post card picture out of my shoe box and reflect on all the fun that filled that second.

Perhaps, I am not alone. Somehow I have this feeling that many suffer from the same disorder. Whatever! So … Here I am after a short indulgence with an orderly life, hoping to spin it out of control like a tossed pebble over the pool. For many, blogging has been a means of recording the event in their filmy lives. Sadly, they compare it to diary keeping. Tipping the scales right over, I think of blogging as kinks of excitement in an otherwise very surreal and normal life that I lead. Guess that explains why I am unable to do this very periodically. Boy! Does this give me the kicks! And so, when ever I'm most desperately looking to dash my head into a wall of thrill, I turn to blogging!

Now that I have amply excused myself with utterly contorted reasons, let me get to buissness. Oh!... what a dog I am. A few weeks back there was this very sweet person, Manoj, who so graciously chose to crown my corner coffee table with its first blogging award, so rightly termed "The Freedom and Independent award". Thanks for that Manoj. Wish I learn from you to be more earnest in blogging. And oh!... you have an amazing blog, lots of insightful thoughts and interesting outlooks. The good souled angle that I am, I am impelled by my divine insticts to spread joy and glory all arround. So, with that said, here are a list of buddies and fav blogs to whom I humbly pass on the baton of "The Freedom and Independent award". Cheers buddies ... have always loved reading your bloggings.

With Love to:

1. Puppy's rewind button - Though he writes his posts sitting next to his wife ... it makes you feel as if she writes half of it. I kinda like the holiday accounts and most of all the sweet recounts of all the great-to-remember foolish things that he does to make his simple life all the more interesting.
2. Arv's wall - Here is some one I can hardly belive I knew before he started blogging! He's so prompt and perhaps the Elvis Presley of the blogging kingdom. With an empire of fans and friends Arv has a world of his own, for the simple reason he provides the most honest window to a dude's life!
3. Bridget Jones reincarnate - I often wonder while reading her post whether I am talking to a long time friend in person. Her words are so lively and above all she is gifted with a style that would leave Ms.Carrie Bradshaw of Sex and The City gasping for her damn breath.

Cheers everyone ... There are more people I would love to give this award to. But I am holding back on my temptation. Hope to read more and more interesting stuff of all you people's blogs.