Confusion

Well, for those of you who still read this blog (statcounter says there were two visits yesterday and 13 in this week, so guess not everyone has given up on me) might be wondering how I went from three posts a week to one in three months, the simple answer is that I just couldn't think of anything to write.

I mean, in the beginning, when I first made my blog (not this one, this is the third one. Or maybe the fourth, I forget) I blogged about all the cool stuff that was happening to me at BITS. You know, stuff like meeting religious zealouts, my first interaction with the (in)famous Sajiv Chandran, experiences with drunk friends and so on. Later, in my second year, I blogged about disappointment, dashed expectations and heartbreak. Most of my posts were metaphoric, thereby ensuring that nobody other than those I was really close to would be able to fathom the depth of the posts. And considering that the people falling in that category numbered three of four, well, you get the picture.

The central driving factor behind all of my posts was, as Ramya pointed out to me, intensity. The stuff that I blogged about was stuff I intensely felt something about, be the essence of the feelings joy or sorrow. What changed over the summer holidays was that I lost most of whatever intensity I had. And no, it wasn't because something disasterous happened to me in the hols.

Another small reason for my not blogging was that my vocabulary and command over the English language seem to have diminished, no doubt due to the brojen combination of English, Hindi and Tamil that most BITSians converse in. Which is a very bad thing, considering that I will have to appear for GRE these hols.

Anyways, moving on... I guess what I'm trying to say here, is that I'd stopped blogging for all the wrong reasons. You don't have to blog to let the world know how much you're hurting, or to make the whole world laugh with you and get their appreciation. You blog because you want to. Because you've just found or done something cool that you want to shout out for the whole world (or atleast your subscribers) to hear. And maybe, in the process, to get a small bit of satisfaction from knowing that there are people who take time out of their busy lives to find out what is going on in yours.

So, what is going on in my life right now is...


And no, I haven't gotten a job at Apple. not even an internship (though not for lack of trying. Basically, I got Leopard working on my PC (and I know that's illegal, thank you for asking) and I have to say, while all the flak and criticism that Apple is getting for their stubborn policy of having one and only one way of doing anything might be well and justified, Mac OS X is still one magnificent piece of art. You know how all Apple fanboys will tell you that everything "Just Works"? Well, there's right. Everything does just work. Even on my PC, on which Mac OS X is not supposed to run, so I'm sure you can imagine how well it would work on Macintosh computers.

And surprizingly, all of this is on a Unix backend. That's right, the glittery GUI of Mac OS X runs on the same system as FreeBSD, OpenBSD and the other BSD's. And everything works, at the first try. I've been using it for over two weeks now, and I haven't had to open the console even once (although I did open it, but that's because I love the commandline). Compare this with linux, where chances are high that you'll have to open up the trusty console and tinker around with the system within an hour of installing the system, whether it be to get your lan card working, or to get some sound to pour out of your speakers.

And Linux (Ubuntu 8.04), even with a custom-compiled kernel, takes atleast a minute to boot and a little less than a minute to shut down, while Leopard, running on my hardware with a generic intel kernel, boots in 15 seconds and shuts down in 5.

Now why can't Linux be more like this?

Amen

"For someone who claims to not believe in God, you sure have a lot of faith in the concept of destiny."

A wry smile. What else could he have done? She'd hit the nail right on the head.

"Let's just say that while we can control most things, there are some things that are beyond our grasp."

She rolls her eyes, an all-too-familiar smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He silently urges the smile to spread, to light up her face the way it used to.

But his prayer goes unanswered. Will conquers habit, and the smile is forcefully winked out of existence.

"So, how are you?"

A million-dollar question. No family, no kids, no welcoming arms, nothing but the glare of an lcd screen and a job that had once seemed fascinating but had lost it's charm long ago. He had achieved everything he'd set out to achieve, had more than enough money, had his own house, a car, several gadgets and a dog to boot.
But happiness? The fleeting state that few achieve and none can keep for long?

He'd never truly been happy. The most that he had been able to achieve was a state of indifference. Indifference that had seemed like a blessing when compared to the pain of waking up to the creaking of the house and the dryness of unshed tears.

So how was he?

"I'm fine. Got a good job now, working at Techgrat. I'm working on this new processor, it's got this pipeline thing that-"

But she'd already lost interest. Had fished out her cell-phone out of her jeans and was typing away on it. Just like old times, except with one little difference. A not-so-little ring gleaming on her finger.

"Ah, so you're engaged now?"

"Yeah! You remember Jason, don't you? He was at college with us..."

"Oh yeah, Jason.."

"Anyways, we've been going out for nearly a year now. We're getting married next month!"

"Oh, how nice!"

Several moments of silence pass by, she gazing at his face, and he striving to keep his face expressionless while suddenly developing an inexplicable fascination for a little spot on his coat that just won't rub off...

"Hey, listen, I'm meeting him for dinner at 9, we have some time till then. You want to get a cup of coffee or something...?"

Say yes. Say yes you damn fool. Say yes. Tell her everything, she has the right to know.

"Ah.. No, I'm afraid not.. I have this, errr.. business meeting tomorrow that I, umm.. need to prepare for.."

The excuse sounded lame, even in his own ears.

"Oh, right, of course.." She trailed off, an unreadable expression flitting across her face.

"So.. I'll see you around I guess. Might even come for your wedding!"

"Yeah, I'll see you around. Don't be a stranger..."

An awkward hug, a wave, and they parted ways. He could feel her eyes burning holes in his back, but he resolutely walked on till he turned around the corner, and then sagged against the wall, fishing in his coat pocket, feeling an all-too-familiar hunger taking over him. Put it in his mouth with shaky hands, lit it, and let the comforting numbness wash over him. Let it convince him that he'd done the right thing.

After all, what could he have told her? That he still loved her, as ludicrous as that might seem. After all, how could you be in love with someone you hadn't spoken to in twenty years?
Would he tell her that he'd sabotaged their relationship on purpose? That there had never been any future for them, that their destinies were forever intertwined but could never meet, because his road would end a lot before hers? Would he have told her the doctor had given him only a year more? Or that the only person at his bedside would be the nurse he would hire to take care of him in his final days?

But then he'd planned on all of this, in that irritatingly rational way of his. He'd known that his story would have an early ending, and had arrived at the logical conclusion that nobody else should be made to suffer along with him. Had put up so many walls to ensure that nobody could get through. So how could he complain now?

His life had been filled with irony. It was only befitting that he would develop the urge to live only after finding out that he would die soon.

Well, nothing could be done about it. It was too late. Go home, work, down some alcohol to dull the constant ache, and lie in bed staring at the clock ticking away minutes that stretched into hours. C'est la vie

Cell

"The mind can calculate, but the spirit yearns, and the heart knows what the heart knows"

- The Head, Cell