Engineer Dude

A Pocketful of Peace

2011-04-10T11:45:00.005+05:00

Why is it that people have this need to get together with people and engage in an activity? What are they trying to tell them: I think you're interesting enough to meet, but not interesting enough to spend time with so let's find something fun to do when we do meet?

Whatever happened to sitting and talking, just catching up? People now have too much to hide, different personae, different opinions of the same things to be used as suitable. They have no more thoughts of their own, and they have the fear of becoming known as "that guy who thinks he know how to fix all the problems". Now, when we talk, we complain. There's never enough time, enough money, the stress is killing us, the boss is an idiot. All we now want to do is to forget.

Sure, there's a million other things to talk about: sports, politics, the hot chick that serves you coffee everyday... but at the end of that conversation, nothing's really changed. You're the same, and the friend that mutually bored you is the same. But it sure seems like you had a great time. Why, you forgot there was anything wrong with your world at all.

What if there was nothing wrong with your world? If that's just the way things are now, but they weren't always the same, and they don't have to be. Is that not a fact? Wrong and right are, in the end, subjective. There will always be people better and worse off that you, in any given opinion.

We seem to have held on to the concept of friendship for that primary reason: to help forget. Everything else, we seem to be doing just fine by ourselves. To me there is another way of forgetting, and it's by remembering that there is a world out there that is going on completely regardless of you. You can detach yourself from it and it will still continue to move. That thought alone is refreshing.

I find peace in solitude. On the trains and buses, where people crowded around you pretend you don't exist. At the sudden glimpse of the setting sun and the display of colours on the way from work. As I lock the door of my room, taking a sigh. These small moments act as pressure release valves - at least for me. After that, I can take a little more beating.

Failing with Passion??

2010-11-12T14:28:00.002+05:00

I might finally fail a class - for the first time in my entire life. But that's not worrying me. The fact that it's at a post-graduate level, when the coursework I have chosen is finally not because someone or something is forcing me to take it, but because I chose to take it - because of the passion I had discovered I have for those subjects after narrowing it down to what what years of education had taught me to like and dislike. The thing that worries me, is that I cannot understand why this would happen.

Sure, there were factors that had contributed to this outcome, and I could blame all of them, or just my will alone. But where was the passion when I had needed it? Why did it not lift me above the turbulence that my life was passing through and make the journey smoother, more effective, more productive? The experience is making me question the effects of organised education on passion. Education, the way I see it is a very disciplined approach towards any given objective. And discipline is about control, as opposed to creativity which is about unleashing a potential. So, even though education is the reason I have reached a level of understanding and compassion towards a given subject, it may well have come to the point where the very strength it had been providing to this organism is making it brittle when exposed to the realms of the real world.

Maybe, for every subject there is a certain point when you need to balance the strength with the ductility. For instance, as far as certain fields of physics are concerned a person may need (the equivalent to) multiple doctoral degrees to come to a level of understanding with which they are satisfied. But with certain art degrees, a mere diploma would be enough to allow the person to reach the peaks of their creative powers.

To me then it seems a simple questions of weighing your options: to worry about grades, or to really understand something new. But of course, both can be achieved with the abundance of passion and effort. Most of us, however, don't have the luxury though...I like to take my time in really absorbing a concept, asking too many questions, getting irritated with too many assumptions. For me, the options are to accept and move on, or stick with what I really understand regardless of whether it gets me far enough. I, however, do have the freedom of choosing the latter. I guess I just took that liberty...

The New Start

2010-08-26T21:48:00.007+05:00

It's been a long year. A year of start that has yet to. It all started with a plan that seemed perfect, then for a time hopeless, followed by a breakthrough, and finally a long, slow break down. After leaving the States and spending some time travelling here and there I migrated to Australia. I came with an abundance of hope that is now only a trickle, savings that have long ago vanished, and dreams that I still only dream of.

But in a year full of desperate struggles, I have discovered that I'm only one of the many that seemed called on as a guest and then left out to wait in the cold.

We were told that engineers were 'urgently' needed; we are still being told that. But what's to be seen is that only people with 'local experience' and required. Now, only if I could get my hands on some of that! That's a catch-22 that has all of us running in circles, only our circles have very little radius, and the only way out is down.

You would think: what a way to re-start my blog! Here I am shooting a spree of complaints all across you. What do I expect of you - help? No, my friend, I expect neither help, nor sympathy, only thought. If you ever think your life is becoming a tireless loop, think twice about jumping out. The waters may be deeper than you think. Of course, it is certainly not an advice to not jump. Just think, that's all.

But, even so. Amongst the desperation and struggling, my life has not been eventful. There is lots to share.

Crossroads

2009-07-09T08:39:00.008+06:00

“Down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees;
Asked the Lord above for mercy, ‘Save me if you please’”
- “Crossroads”, Cream version, original by Robert Johnson

We’ve all had this moment in our lives when we stand there, not knowing which way to go. Each way seems as strange and as unrevealing about its destination as the other, and as you stand there wondering, your most significant emotion is fear, “What if I’m wrong?” Well, what if…

Unlike Robert Frost (Road Not Taken), most people would rather take the path tried and tested. They would rather ‘know’ what to expect. But can you? Sometimes, there is no cut-and-dried answer and you have to guess anyways. The way I see it, making the decision is what counts the most. Unlike the roads we physically travel on, the roads of life are time-variant. The destinations that those crossroads may lead to at one moment may not be the same the next moment.

So, what if you were wrong? How would you know? The other choices you may have had could have been better or worse. The probabilities involved here are numerous; equally good, equally bad.

I’ve been on a few major intersections myself. Once my choice wasn’t really mine, but I was in on it, and decided to be the explorer, see what happens. The other time, it was a calculated risk, and another time an actual plan. Either way decisions were made, actions were taken, and consequences were faced – what other choice did I have? I can’t say that all the decisions were right; neither can I say they were wrong. There were busy streets, lonely highways, and quiet streets I have passed through. And though some took me time to get used to, I enjoyed them.

Today, I once again find myself at an intersection. Using the instincts and foresight that I’ve developed, I need to make the call. It’s a guess nonetheless, yet an educated one this time, comes with a plan too!

“I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
- Robert Frost, “Road Not Taken”

Love All = 0 - 0 !?

2009-07-09T07:09:00.005+06:00

Tennis, at a quick glance, is a rather a funny sport. A buncha people tossing a ball to each other over a net. And then they keep doing it over and over again! But, I love that game and here’s why.

Tennis is like an expensive Swiss watch: the beauty is in the details and the craftsmanship. And recognizing the true value of it requires a certain amount of sophistication, though the quality speaks for itself. Not every tennis game necessarily fits into the definition though; there are relatively cruder ones too. Then again, they make us appreciate the classy ones all the more.

In the classier games, there is a certain finesse involved, a smoothness of motions flowing across from one side of the court to another powered by sudden influxes, to be as suddenly dampened of all energy. Each shot is produced by swings generating from the torque accumulating from the body, all the way from the feet to the hips to the arms to the wrist. The perfect ones being in complete harmony with each other.

Then again there is the battle, between aggressors, defenders, with roles being switched around from point to point, game to game, and set to set. At times it resembles a game of chess when an attacker controls the game to the extent to predicting his opponent’s moves and stays ready for him, before he can even make his strike. The ability to set up combinations, by driving an opponent to the very corner, or catching him off-guard/wrong-footed.

As with almost every sport, the players are tested for strength, speed, reflexes, endurance, mental strength, and consistency. The fact that the best remain on the top most of the time, shows how little luck comes into play – as compared to the preparation and the skill set of the players.

After watching Wimbledon for two weeks and witnessing some spectacular games, I just had had to express my love for tennis – to whomever and wherever.

All the Time in the World

2009-06-11T12:15:00.003+06:00

Most of us have lived their conscious lives busy. Maybe not completely busy, but probably never to the extent of saying “I’m not doing anything nowadays.” First we have school and the tons of homework and activities related to it, then there’s college and a couple of temp jobs here and there, and then there’s work and probably married life. By the time you get around to taking a breather and really looking back at your life and observing your surroundings, it’s after you’ve retired. Either that or you get completely lost somewhere in between and have to step out of your life to take a better look. Sometimes, you even get thrown out and take the chance to look around.

I took the opportunity to ‘throw’ myself out of my life when waking up in the mornings became a fight. When going to work on auto-pilot most of the time started making me feel lifeless, and when I looked inside to visualize my dreams I saw nothing. So, what happened? Initially, it hurt knowing that I wouldn’t be seeing the place and the people I was familiar with again. Then I felt relieved to realize I had the courage to break free, then there was hope for a better and happier future, and then the sense of adventure of going to look for that future.

A month passed; I felt relaxed thinking I got a well-deserved break after years of working on something or the other. Finally, I start looking fervently for the dream job I’ve always wanted. I find it’s not as easy as I thought it was going to be and drop the requirements; still no luck. As time passes, things started getting disappointing, the energy started to wear out and that’s when I took that nice, long sigh.

I asked myself: what am I doing wrong? Am I doing anything right? Am I dragging myself back into the place I just escaped from? What do I really want in life? After a thunderstorm of questions just pouring down on me month after month, I boiled down the answers to discover the few things I really liked doing, and remembered things that I used to dream about when I was just an ignorant kid.

On this journey to discovering a part of me I carried around but never bothered to know, I have found how strange it is to view life with a perspective of keeping the things you want to do before the things you need to do. It’s like unleashing a wild-mannered child from the grips of a cultivated adult. I believe Freud had something to say on this, something regarding the ego and the id that I have yet to read up on.

Engineer-in-Travelling

2009-02-06T05:43:00.005+05:00

Having traveled recently, I made an observation that I wouldn’t have normally made: about the things I carried. It’s strange how you tend to depend on the things that you do. Some are almost necessities, some conveniences, some luxuries, and some just provide the sentimental forces that keep you going. In recent time, those that I can recall with a reasonable amount of vividness, I’ve done three kinds of travels: short ones, lasting a weekend, where you need pretty much your bare necessities, maybe a suit, and some document or the other; then there are the week long ones, where you need not only the previously mentioned stuff but also a little extra, depending on whether the trips made primarily for business or pleasure. And the third kind: when you pack your belongings and move from one residence to another. Of course, there are special circumstances to each of them, which make things even more interesting.

My most interesting, though not my favorite one by far, was when I had to move permanently from not only one house to another but also from one country to another. With a budget defined as being economically very tight, it was time for decisions: what to not let go off. It was tough, and after spending months in mental agony, I prepared myself. I knew my decisions had to be extremely balanced – between logic and emotions. Things that were favoring me were the facts that I hadn’t really spent much on the things that did belong to me and that at the places that I was headed to I would be taken care of. That’s right – places, not a place. There were complications, don’t ask me what.

The day of the travel has arrived; I stand outside the house staring at it, not knowing what to say to it: “Thanks buddy, but I have to move on. Nice knowing you though; we spent some good time together?” No, at that moment you can’t come up with that. Within the numbness you feel all you can come up with is: “Ok, then…”, then try to make haste, lest you lose your mind in the process. Then you turn the other direction to get hit by another shockwave. What is that in front of you: a suitcase, two large boxes, and some carry-on? What happened? Where did everything go? Oh yeah, you dumped some, gave some away, and left some for the landlady to get rid off. You shrug your shoulders, pretend its funny, and move on.

Traveling internationally can be a headache, especially with all the stop-over’s, extra documentation, stamps, etc. involved. Unless you have your priorities straight you’re bound to be doomed. So once the nightmare is over and you’re in the plane, squeezed between two people you know will be snoring within half-an-hour and make the next half-a-day of yours go by hoping that the volume of your personal video went higher – it starts to seep in. You take a deep breath, sink in further into the seat, and let wild thoughts take over your mind. You run the entire three or four month episode inside your head until you come to a screeching halt at the moment you were hit by the thought of the size of your luggage. You built a mental x-ray machine and began screening one piece at a time. A considerable chunk passes by labeled “Books”. That includes all the design and code books you pretty much had memorized once upon a time, some biographies you think you might actually re-read someday soon, and some that you excused yourself from donating because they were so tiny compared to the engineering books. Then, there are the souvenir items collected over the period of time that you were there, which is considered priceless, and tossed in between all that stuff are your clothes, all the ones that you really, really didn’t want to give away. A small portion of your suitcase dedicated to a number of documents that make you ‘you’, legally that is. Then of course, there is the laptop, your dslr, and other electronic devices you consider a part of you anatomy.

These were the things that were on top of the priority list when I had to get rid of everything that was not in the slightest unimportant to me. Therefore, these must be the things of considerable value to me, a part of me I choose not to depart with. Apparently, knowledge and information are on top of my list, followed by memories – things that cannot be re-bought. Then there were the minimum amount of documents needed to prove my existence, which I suppose can be considered important without much debate, and of course my dependence on technology – absolutely crucial was I to maintain my lifestyle. Clothes and common objects of use can always be bought unless I was going on a deserted island of some sort, these things I hold to a degree of importance judged by various factors such as cost, amount of use, and association with something important. These were tough times, and with the strict qualification criteria I had set for them, many did not make it.

So there I conclude: it is in travelling that a person reveals what he cannot leave behind, hence what means most to him, hence making his priorities visible before his mind, hence making his values crystallize, thus establishing him as the person that we may know him to be.

Note to Reader: Over the brief periods that have combined to give form to this essay, I have realized that I have mixed up the ‘I’s’ and the ‘you’s’ beyond the point of effortless corrective editing. I apologize for any mental bumps that you may have had to endure. Also towards the end, the he/him/his has been used to represent any person in general. I mean no discrimination towards the female of the human species.

Engineering the Character

2009-01-30T07:35:00.007+05:00

It has been quite some time that I've been out of work for. Some four months or so, and there seems to be no sign of a job I may be starting. I haven't had this much free time in my entire life and it's driving me crazy. Not because I have nothing to do, I actually do have many enjoyable things to do. The only problem is guilty pleasure and the lack of challenges.

My entire life has been like a training; to become what I have become - an engineer - it seems. And now that I'm there, I have no engineering to do. Or so it seems. By some definitions, there's always engineering to do. That particular definition being of a person being able to implement knowledge to design things or to make them work. This is my own version though, developed from my personal experiences and upon not finding a more suitable definition.

The world being in an economic recession and all, resulting in shortage of jobs, resulting in more people with nothing to do but think and look for new jobs, I think it's time people like me did some "inner" engineering. Understanding the details of our everyday life that so far we've taken for granted because we needed to spend time doing more important things such as earning money. You could call it engineering of the self or soul, I prefer to use the term character. I know it seems like a psychological task is on our hands, but it's just another form of analysis. We take the facts and make what we can of them, making patterns and studying different trends so we can make sense of it all in a generalized way. It's like mathematics without the equations.

It's not hard. All you have to do is notice things you wouldn't have normally noticed: the time you take in the shower every morning and if it varies depending on the days of the week, what song you heard on the way to work and the mood that it resulted in, the reaction of the coffee servers at the coffee shop you go to, the kind of lunches you chose to have depending on the date you get paid, what are the things most accessible to you in your bedroom, etc. Once you began to think about these things, you realize there may be patterns in there somewhere, then you ask yourself why those patterns exist and it just may teach you something about yourself even you didn't know. The more variant pattern will indicate things that dictate your behavior the most, hence which are closest to you, in turn establishing your priorities.

Once you start studying yourself, it seems you are studying another person whose every habit you have access to and whose character you are building based upon those habits. And if you decide you don't like this person, there comes a problem required some deeper engineering - the fixing part.