A month ago, I was helping a friend pick some books from the library. I handed her Arrows of the Queen by Mercedes Lackey, and told her that the author's books make for fast and fun reading. And then I prattled on about Lackey being a slightly controversial author because her books are popular in the age 16-25 range, but the hero in one of her series is gay, and some parents spoke out against her "bad" influence on teenage kids.
To me, that was just a random piece of information - interesting, but irrelevant to enjoying a book. Kind of like if I was to say, Robin Hobb (or her other pen name Megan Lindholm or her real name Margaret Ogden) is slightly controversial because she has taken a stand against fan fiction. But my friend wore a look of consternation on her face and asked if there were any gay characters in this book. I assured her there weren't, and she did take the book home to read.
Last week, I was watching the Academy Award presentations, and one of the winners was a woman (I forgot her name) who, on receiving the statuette, proceeded to thank her wife and kids. My roommate sitting next to me put his hands to his temples and started shaking his head.
I never quite thought of it in this way before, but I do not consider homosexuality an unnatural thing. Does that mean there is something wrong with me, or with my friends? I guess I must be more tolerant and unprejudiced than I thought!
Thoughts, people?
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Writing an epic fantasy
After nearly a week of lying sick in bed, my body seems to have rallied enough for me to have the energy to sit and type out this post.
Being sick is actually a good time to think. For while the body may be too tired to even head to the kitchen for a drink of water, the mind has enough active time to give thought to things you may otherwise sweep under the carpet of day-to-day work and worries.
And so, I thought about what I want to do with my life. I'm sure all of you have asked yourselves this question before - and so have I - but this time I gave it plenty of thought and I set some actual goals.
GOAL #1: Write an epic fantasy
Most, or all, of you reading this will be familiar with my obsession with fantasy fiction. Well, I have finally reached a stage wherein I have read so many authors and books in this genre that I could write a thesis on it. I have always wanted to write in this genre myself, as a result of which I have sometimes inflicted some of my short stories on you poor readers. Fortunately or unfortunately, the years have passed and the goal still remains. Some day, I will write and publish an epic fantasy series. The road is very long - as I learnt to my chagrin when I inflicted some of my short stories on you readers - but I still intend to make a serious attempt. Even if it takes decades.
GOAL #2: Be a champion for my country
These past four years, I have surprised myself with my hunger to learn more at the game of Bridge. Already, I can participate at the national level and not embarrass myself. In ten years, I might even be able to win something at that level. Now, India is not a country that can compete well at the international level at athletic-type events; our physiques are meant for farming, not hunting. But our brains have always been top-class. Viswanathan Anand is a world-class champion. I definitely feel we can be winners in the international arena in Bridge as well. Why wait for champions to arise? Aim to become one! (Edit: Took me a re-read to realize how arrogant that sounded. But hey, I mean every word of it!)
The rest of my goals are a bit confused. Academically, I want to be a scientist... in what field, I still don't know. I have some vague plans for my family business - we are well placed to expand our business and take a sizeable chunk of the market in South India. I have even vaguer plans to give something back to society in the form of education. Start a university? Or, more realistically, become a professor at an IIT?
Upon reading this, one might say that I must be unhappy with my work to have all my set goals only in my extracurricular activities. But that is not the case at all. I love research. Its just that some goals will become clearer with time.
Planning one's life is harder than planning than epic fantasy, after all - for you have to be realistic.
Being sick is actually a good time to think. For while the body may be too tired to even head to the kitchen for a drink of water, the mind has enough active time to give thought to things you may otherwise sweep under the carpet of day-to-day work and worries.
And so, I thought about what I want to do with my life. I'm sure all of you have asked yourselves this question before - and so have I - but this time I gave it plenty of thought and I set some actual goals.
GOAL #1: Write an epic fantasy
Most, or all, of you reading this will be familiar with my obsession with fantasy fiction. Well, I have finally reached a stage wherein I have read so many authors and books in this genre that I could write a thesis on it. I have always wanted to write in this genre myself, as a result of which I have sometimes inflicted some of my short stories on you poor readers. Fortunately or unfortunately, the years have passed and the goal still remains. Some day, I will write and publish an epic fantasy series. The road is very long - as I learnt to my chagrin when I inflicted some of my short stories on you readers - but I still intend to make a serious attempt. Even if it takes decades.
GOAL #2: Be a champion for my country
These past four years, I have surprised myself with my hunger to learn more at the game of Bridge. Already, I can participate at the national level and not embarrass myself. In ten years, I might even be able to win something at that level. Now, India is not a country that can compete well at the international level at athletic-type events; our physiques are meant for farming, not hunting. But our brains have always been top-class. Viswanathan Anand is a world-class champion. I definitely feel we can be winners in the international arena in Bridge as well. Why wait for champions to arise? Aim to become one! (Edit: Took me a re-read to realize how arrogant that sounded. But hey, I mean every word of it!)
The rest of my goals are a bit confused. Academically, I want to be a scientist... in what field, I still don't know. I have some vague plans for my family business - we are well placed to expand our business and take a sizeable chunk of the market in South India. I have even vaguer plans to give something back to society in the form of education. Start a university? Or, more realistically, become a professor at an IIT?
Upon reading this, one might say that I must be unhappy with my work to have all my set goals only in my extracurricular activities. But that is not the case at all. I love research. Its just that some goals will become clearer with time.
Planning one's life is harder than planning than epic fantasy, after all - for you have to be realistic.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Sunday, February 25, 2007
When words are no good
If I have to select a favourite among my cousins, it would probably be her. Slightly younger than me; pretty and ready with a smile and a teasing rejoinder for everything. At every family event - like weddings - she would try to pull in my brother and I into a game of Anthakshari with the rest of our cousins. Us sober folk, of course, would never join in... listening to me trying to sing would be like listening to a donkey giving an opera.
About two years ago, she got married, a very good alliance for them: the groom's family lived in australia and were doing well for themselves. They chose this little (yeah, to me all my female cousins are little because they are so short!) girl from that little town partly because they had some mutual acquaintances, and partly because the groom wanted a "housewife" wife - someone who would be great at running the household and taking care of him and his parents. Something for which she was perfect for. And of course, he probably fell for her smile the moment he saw her photograph - or so we teased her.
She has a one-year old kid now, and a couple of months ago she came back home with her husband and the baby to visit her family. Everybody was so happy.
It began innocuously, with a toothache. He went to the dentist, who recommended that the tooth be pulled out as soon as possible. And so, he did. We will never know what went wrong with the simple procedure. Or perhaps it was not related at all. But, the next day, he complained of dizzy spells, like he felt like fainting. The day after that, he did faint - while climbing a flight of stairs - and fell unconscious ten feet to the ground from the first floor railing.
The small town hospital was not equipped for this. They rushed him to a good hospital in the nearest city. They said he had a clot in the brain, and he had gone into a coma, and his life was in serious danger. I'm not sure how many days he lasted in the ICU, but he died. Leaving behind a grieving 23-year old widow with an infant, and two shattered families.
What can one say in the face of such senseless, mind-numbing tragedy? Nothing. Nothing you say can ever be good enough to mean anything. The cousin who was always ready with a laugh, a smile and a tease - now I wonder if I will ever see her smile again.
As if to say, this can happen to anyone, even you, the dead man's name was Prashanth.
It almost seems selfish to think of one's own troubles when such things happen in this world. Take back this one thought with you today: it could happen to anybody, even you. Do not turn away from tragedy and into the comfortable shell of your life, thinking, "This has nothing to do with me," for it could easily have been you. Open yourself up to all things happening out there in the world - good and bad - and feel. For others.
For if it ever happens to you, would you want others to shudder, turn their backs and say, "I'm glad it has nothing to do with me"?
Sorry, I'm disabling comments on this post. It seemed the appropriate thing to do.
About two years ago, she got married, a very good alliance for them: the groom's family lived in australia and were doing well for themselves. They chose this little (yeah, to me all my female cousins are little because they are so short!) girl from that little town partly because they had some mutual acquaintances, and partly because the groom wanted a "housewife" wife - someone who would be great at running the household and taking care of him and his parents. Something for which she was perfect for. And of course, he probably fell for her smile the moment he saw her photograph - or so we teased her.
She has a one-year old kid now, and a couple of months ago she came back home with her husband and the baby to visit her family. Everybody was so happy.
It began innocuously, with a toothache. He went to the dentist, who recommended that the tooth be pulled out as soon as possible. And so, he did. We will never know what went wrong with the simple procedure. Or perhaps it was not related at all. But, the next day, he complained of dizzy spells, like he felt like fainting. The day after that, he did faint - while climbing a flight of stairs - and fell unconscious ten feet to the ground from the first floor railing.
The small town hospital was not equipped for this. They rushed him to a good hospital in the nearest city. They said he had a clot in the brain, and he had gone into a coma, and his life was in serious danger. I'm not sure how many days he lasted in the ICU, but he died. Leaving behind a grieving 23-year old widow with an infant, and two shattered families.
What can one say in the face of such senseless, mind-numbing tragedy? Nothing. Nothing you say can ever be good enough to mean anything. The cousin who was always ready with a laugh, a smile and a tease - now I wonder if I will ever see her smile again.
As if to say, this can happen to anyone, even you, the dead man's name was Prashanth.
It almost seems selfish to think of one's own troubles when such things happen in this world. Take back this one thought with you today: it could happen to anybody, even you. Do not turn away from tragedy and into the comfortable shell of your life, thinking, "This has nothing to do with me," for it could easily have been you. Open yourself up to all things happening out there in the world - good and bad - and feel. For others.
For if it ever happens to you, would you want others to shudder, turn their backs and say, "I'm glad it has nothing to do with me"?
Sorry, I'm disabling comments on this post. It seemed the appropriate thing to do.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
When it's hard to be indignant...
"... but she thinks he's a bit of a snob, and she asked me how I can stand sitting next to him and working with him everyday."
"Yeah, actually, when he started working here, I thought he was a snob as well..."
No, I'm not pouting inane watercooler gossip here on my blog. That was the conversation between two of my friends. About me. With me standing next to them. Wearing a dumbfounded expression on my face while they continued talking that way - in all seriousness, at that!
I tried gasping and spluttering for a few seconds, but heck, all I could really do was smile. This is where the "Frankly, this is what I think, but I don't have the time or inclination to talk about this further, so bye" attitude really backfires. I mean, an opinion expressed is not a positive contribution unless you stand around for a painfully detailed argument. Fortunately for me, at least my friends don't think I'm that much of a snob any more... they know that it's simply the way I am. I speak bluntly - "Abrasively," as my advisor himself put it - and don't know how to sugar-coat my messages.
When is it hard to be indignant? When the accusation's true, no matter what the justifications, mitigating factors and extenuating circumstances. I guess when people get to know you well, they understand that that's just the way you are, and you're not being condescending... just... self-centred. But why are people so afraid of being judged, that they end up judging others?
Cheers,
Prashanth.
"Yeah, actually, when he started working here, I thought he was a snob as well..."
No, I'm not pouting inane watercooler gossip here on my blog. That was the conversation between two of my friends. About me. With me standing next to them. Wearing a dumbfounded expression on my face while they continued talking that way - in all seriousness, at that!
I tried gasping and spluttering for a few seconds, but heck, all I could really do was smile. This is where the "Frankly, this is what I think, but I don't have the time or inclination to talk about this further, so bye" attitude really backfires. I mean, an opinion expressed is not a positive contribution unless you stand around for a painfully detailed argument. Fortunately for me, at least my friends don't think I'm that much of a snob any more... they know that it's simply the way I am. I speak bluntly - "Abrasively," as my advisor himself put it - and don't know how to sugar-coat my messages.
When is it hard to be indignant? When the accusation's true, no matter what the justifications, mitigating factors and extenuating circumstances. I guess when people get to know you well, they understand that that's just the way you are, and you're not being condescending... just... self-centred. But why are people so afraid of being judged, that they end up judging others?
Cheers,
Prashanth.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Talk to your neighbour
I'm normally a pretty quiet chap when I'm traveling alone - be it by bus, train or air. I assume that people like to sit back and relax, rather than be bothered by some random stranger sitting next to you. But times change, and I'm not averse to conversations with random people these days. On one of the flights I took to come to India this december, for instance, I had a somewhat unusual experience with my neighbour.
The woman sitting next to me introduced herself as I sat down, and even recognized the authors on the book I was reading (that's a rather unusual occurrence, given my reading taste), saying that she'd read some of their other books. Then we made small talk regarding where we live and what we do. She was returning to Naples for work, after spending two weeks with her family in the US for christmas. I noticed that she had difficulty keeping still: she would constantly tap her feet or stroke her hair or something like that. When I asked her about it, she admitted that she was high-strung, and was missing her cigarettes, which would normally relax her. She was afraid of flying, especially over water; and she'd had a rough week, including a close call in catching her flight.
I automatically went into lecture mode. I explained to her that flying was safer than driving, and flying over water was safer than flying over land. I scolded her for being a chain-smoker and a chain-drinker of coffee; I told her how both those things are extremely unhealthy and contribute to nervousness. I even told her about how Yoga and Meditation would provide a long-term solution in helping to relax.
Then I asked her why she was so nervous when she'd just finished a two week vacation at home. She grimaced and said that spending time at home was no vacation for her; and then she promptly broke into tears!
And so I found myself holding a weeping thirty year old stranger's hand, somewhere in the stratosphere over the atlantic ocean. To make her feel better, I told her some of my own troubles, ending with a philosophical "Everyone has problems: it's how we face them that's important."
We became more friendly over the rest of the flight, and we wore genuine smiles as we bade each other goodbye, knowing that we would never see each other again. I often wonder, if anything I said helped, or if she took it as the usual inscrutable eastern mumbo-jumbo. I like to think that I made a difference. Vain, I know.
Since then, I resolved to be less taciturn than my usual self while traveling. I think I made a friend on my flight back to the US, a computer science grad from bangalore. At the very least, I made one person's flight less lonely. That's the crux of it, isn't it? In the old days, I liked to be alone, and I assumed everyone felt the same way. These days, I don't mind being alone, but I've come to appreciate the value of good company.
May your future travels be less lonely. Talk to your neighbour!
Cheers,
Prashanth.
The woman sitting next to me introduced herself as I sat down, and even recognized the authors on the book I was reading (that's a rather unusual occurrence, given my reading taste), saying that she'd read some of their other books. Then we made small talk regarding where we live and what we do. She was returning to Naples for work, after spending two weeks with her family in the US for christmas. I noticed that she had difficulty keeping still: she would constantly tap her feet or stroke her hair or something like that. When I asked her about it, she admitted that she was high-strung, and was missing her cigarettes, which would normally relax her. She was afraid of flying, especially over water; and she'd had a rough week, including a close call in catching her flight.
I automatically went into lecture mode. I explained to her that flying was safer than driving, and flying over water was safer than flying over land. I scolded her for being a chain-smoker and a chain-drinker of coffee; I told her how both those things are extremely unhealthy and contribute to nervousness. I even told her about how Yoga and Meditation would provide a long-term solution in helping to relax.
Then I asked her why she was so nervous when she'd just finished a two week vacation at home. She grimaced and said that spending time at home was no vacation for her; and then she promptly broke into tears!
And so I found myself holding a weeping thirty year old stranger's hand, somewhere in the stratosphere over the atlantic ocean. To make her feel better, I told her some of my own troubles, ending with a philosophical "Everyone has problems: it's how we face them that's important."
We became more friendly over the rest of the flight, and we wore genuine smiles as we bade each other goodbye, knowing that we would never see each other again. I often wonder, if anything I said helped, or if she took it as the usual inscrutable eastern mumbo-jumbo. I like to think that I made a difference. Vain, I know.
Since then, I resolved to be less taciturn than my usual self while traveling. I think I made a friend on my flight back to the US, a computer science grad from bangalore. At the very least, I made one person's flight less lonely. That's the crux of it, isn't it? In the old days, I liked to be alone, and I assumed everyone felt the same way. These days, I don't mind being alone, but I've come to appreciate the value of good company.
May your future travels be less lonely. Talk to your neighbour!
Cheers,
Prashanth.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Approaching normalcy...
After surviving exams, surgery, the Charles De Gaulle airport, and a horde of relatives saying, "Oh my child! How thin you've become!", my life is slowly coming back to normal. Until I'm back at my desk in Penn State at the end of this month, though, I'll continue to be a little detached from the online world.
The solution to life, the universe and everything does not appear to be 42, but a series of little 42s. For instance, look at the trials I mentioned above. Exams? Attend classes more regularly and pay better attention. The Charles De Gaulle airport? Never fly Air France again. Being thin? Er... regain those lost pounds (somebody tell me how!) and don't give my relatives an opportunity to make such statements. I feel like I'm in one of Nissim Ezekiel's poems... the cosmos conspiring to keep me thin, and my own negligence making it worse.
And of course, there are the unavoidables. What was the surgery for? I can hardly spell it. What was the cause? Even the doctors aren't sure. At least they knew how to treat it, I should be grateful for that. I feel a little vexed that this prevented me from having fun for a while - couldn't meet up with my good ol' pals or play at the local bridge clubs, but I tell myself, it could have been a lot worse. I did get to read a ton of books, so I had something to occupy me, even if I've been reduced to reading masala authors like Clive Cussler.
The leap from epic fantasy to pulp fiction is rather painful, and I'm itching to get back to the public library in State College, but hey, I'm in one piece, in reasonably good health, and the future is worth looking forward to.
Cheers,
Prashanth.
The solution to life, the universe and everything does not appear to be 42, but a series of little 42s. For instance, look at the trials I mentioned above. Exams? Attend classes more regularly and pay better attention. The Charles De Gaulle airport? Never fly Air France again. Being thin? Er... regain those lost pounds (somebody tell me how!) and don't give my relatives an opportunity to make such statements. I feel like I'm in one of Nissim Ezekiel's poems... the cosmos conspiring to keep me thin, and my own negligence making it worse.
And of course, there are the unavoidables. What was the surgery for? I can hardly spell it. What was the cause? Even the doctors aren't sure. At least they knew how to treat it, I should be grateful for that. I feel a little vexed that this prevented me from having fun for a while - couldn't meet up with my good ol' pals or play at the local bridge clubs, but I tell myself, it could have been a lot worse. I did get to read a ton of books, so I had something to occupy me, even if I've been reduced to reading masala authors like Clive Cussler.
The leap from epic fantasy to pulp fiction is rather painful, and I'm itching to get back to the public library in State College, but hey, I'm in one piece, in reasonably good health, and the future is worth looking forward to.
Cheers,
Prashanth.
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