I Heart Pop Art

With no respect for the ideology behind the Pop movement, here is the first in a series of images I created, labelled 'art' for lack of a worse word.

Generic Text 01, 2010

The emphasis was on using only the gradient and text tools of Adobe Photoshop. Yup. That's about it. You can see more at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=317717&id=550646418&l=31b5f888a6 (EDIT: This link is dead, so don't bother).

My only requirement for considering something Art is the presence of a driving Concept behind it. While the initial concept was to add to the amount of useless junk on facebook.com's servers, it expanded as I grew more familiar with the medium. The possibility of conveying an Idea led to a semblance of Meaning, but the moment you explain your Art, it's value becomes half, so I'll leave the Experential Phenomenon to its own devices.

Aren't those 'intellectual' capitalizations of words irritating? No. They are Not.

P.S. Before praising, notice that I label these as 'My Ugly Art' on the link.

Amritsar After Touring Cheap In I'mRicher

Just before I left New Delhi for the winter break, you could raise warm vapours off the urinal by pissing on it. But we stubbornly took a night train to Amritsar earlier this week to do some sightseeing, even though its a coupla notches higher in latitude. I expected to visit the Durgiana Mandir, the famous Harmandir Sahib or Golden Temple, the infamous Jallianwala Bagh, and the popular Beating the Retreat parade at Wagah Border. All this happened (in order!).

Balcony seats don't have the same meaning at Wagah

But it's the things off the checklist that enrich the experience - walking through the old city instead of sight-hopping in a rickshaw; spending more time at the temples than I usually would have because my companions were immersed in prayer; cheering with gusto at the parade on the orders of a BSF officer, while the girls danced to patriotic Bollywood tracks; dining for free in the community kitchen or Guru ka Langar at the Golden Temple, and repaying the favour by folding cloth for the next day's rituals. In piss-vapourising temperatures (4°C). At night (2200-2300hrs). In the open (Golden Temple marble walkway). To a warmth-inducing chant (Satnam Waheguru).

I'm folding somewhere there ---->

By the way, why is the Golden temple oriented northeast-southwest? (CORRECTION 22/12/2010: southeast-northwest; doesn't affect the point of the question) 25 points for the correct answer...

UB40 - Promises And Lies (1993) - 07 - Can't Help Falling In Love

I recently completed a project to design a District Centre in Rajendra Place in New Delhi. We were told that there was a lake in the area that could be exploited for public activities, with a commercial district to the north that could be linked to the main road to the south. That's all very well, I said to myself, but I couldn't see how this related to turban design, which I presumed was to provide fashion alternatives to the Sikh community predominant in the area.

Our guide in this project seemed equally unhappy with our work, and we could never get on the same track as him - his sketches seemed to suggest an unravelling turban, which was definitely something no self respecting Sardarji would like. Somewhere near the final presentation in front of a jury of distinguished architects, we realised that it was Urban Design they were talking about all along - can you believe that? (Cue groans from the ones with a 'superior' sense of humour, I really love those guys)

Well, with good old fashioned Indian ingenuity, we slapped together a scheme faster than you can say 'chand' (Just who is 'chand'? The mystery goes on...) and the presentation went surprisingly well. Meanwhile, the turban designs have been stockpiled for a rainy day (or a very sunny one).

UD10 - Can't Help Urban Design

Eating Out Can Lead To Korrhea

I'm not really into eating, but I must survive; I couldn't bear the alternative just yet. My point is, I can't be really relied upon as an expert of food, but, since there isn't enough mention of it, I'd like to bring to your attention, if you're ever in Delhi (India), the Korean restaurant called Dokebi Nara. It's a small place, and a decent review of it has already been done here.

The most fun thing is finding this place - I guess the Metro came up after the review above, so as a tip, the nearest station is Ramakrishna Ashram Marg on the Blue Line. Get out on the Ashram side and take a right, keep walking till the first large intersection. Then take the small lane to the left and you come to the 'small square' mentioned in the review.

More than anything, the atmosphere of the place is warm and reminiscent of a beachside shack at Goa, especially at night. The food is perhaps not in tune with the spice requirements of the Indian palate, but good enough, and chand (No, you read 'filling', 'filling'). Let me reiterate that it takes ages for you to get your order, mainly I guess because there's only two guys running the whole show, and the food is all freshly prepared.

The walls are covered with messages and doodles scrawled by customers - look for an Achaya when you're there (UPDATE: The wall has been whitewashed, alas!). Another thing I guess you could try is the Korean booze 'Chamisul Fresh Soju', empty bottles of which line the parapet - it's 350 INR though, so it hasn't quenched this poor man's thirst. Yet.

Fresh, all right!
Poster for “Ip-Saeju” soju (2009), © Bohae Brewery Co. Ltd

Overheard

"My boss is having an affair with a girl in my office, and he's married, with kids. We all knew, but, like, what can you say. He's been, like, going around with her - not obvious, sometimes he drops her to office, sometimes people at restaurants have seen them, but the problem is, it comes into the workspace.
According to him he's not discriminating, but according to us, he is (and she's a psycho). There are exceptions made for her, and he thinks we don't realise; if she gets upset with somebody or anything, she goes and screams at him and walks out. We have seen her screaming at him, he has a glass door.
Any time you confront him - I've had problems with her - he is so cunning and clever; any person who wants to learn how to talk, should learn from him. He'll say she has a rough time at home, and comes to me and my wife."

"She's not good looking."

"He's bought her a laptop which she uses in the office. Recently, for all of us Yahoo and Facebook is blocked, but she has. For her birthday last year, he ordered pizza, I went to collect it, we didn't know who it was from, the guy said, 'It's from ****'. He's sent her a bouquet, he bought her an iPod Touch, this year she got a camera; she doesn't say it's from him. This time she said her brother gave her the camera for her birthday - her brother's working in Dubai.
Two days later, one of the girls saw on Facebook her brother saying 'sorry ****, forgot your birthday', so then how did he buy her a camera? Her mother's salary is Rs.7000, so how is she buying on her own?
When I accuse him of being biased, he'll say, 'She has tough time', but then I say, 'We all have problems, you can't take advantage of the fact' - anyway, thats an ongoing thing. Now its reached a stage where nobody likes her in office. He's divided the team into two, i'm managing one and the other team he's made her the manager and put newcomers under her, who won't know about her."

"She acts like such a hypocrite, like she's fallen from heaven."

"The other day one of the girls found a letter in his drawer, written on our stationery in his handwriting, not a poem, more like his thoughts:

'I'm not going to think about her
I'm not gonna think about her anymore
I'm not gonna think about the way she looks
I'm not gonna think about the way her hair smells
I'm not gonna think about the way she cried when her turtle died
I'm not going to think about the way she wants a pup
I'm not gonna think about the way we drove to Bajpe airport and had salty omelettes
I'm not gonna think about her powerful legs
I'm not gonna think about how delicate she was like a bird
I'm not gonna think about the way she decorated the christmas tree
I'm not gonna think about her booty shake and something something
I'm not gonna think about her love for crab cakes at Moti Mahal
I'm not gonna think about the way she screamed and smashed so many phones
I'm not gonna think' - I can't remember the others right now.

One of the girls has taken the letter now, it's with her - one original is there and many Xeroxes are there. I'm imagining his guts, ok - our team for the past year and a half, I can't tell you how many placements we've done - I looked at her client sheet (it's hidden like a big secret. initially it was on a server, now its a big secret), you should see the hits - from last year till now, just 4 or 5. We had a meeting, I gave it to him - he's accusing us of not working and not saying anything to them. I said its damn unfair, he's saying, 'Last quarter in the past three months, tell me who you've sourced and when they've joined.' "

"I'm stupid? I gave it to him properly!"

"This is, like, getting worse now. Let me tell you about his stupid -
and, er, I asked him, 'So ****, what about the other team?', 'coz they dont do any work. He said, 'I think they've done pretty well' - the client sheet I got after that meeting - he's saying, 'A VP position, she's closed' (nothing like that was there). Next day, he called me and apologised, he knows we have something against him."

"To this girl, ****, when she behaves stupidly, the other girls loudly will tell one another, 'eh, you know last evening I went to Bajpe airport and ate salty omelettes' and 'what about the crab cakes in Moti Mahal?'"

"The poem also has a 2 by 2 code -

'I'm not gonna think about the 2x2 code
I'm not gonna think about the games we played in office - hide and seek (without the balls) :)'

What are the balls in hide and seek?"

Right-click on "Download" and choose "Save As..."

People who are opposed to all forms of piracy are oversimplifying the case. I would make the justification based on the item in question, it's actual value, availability and requirement (for now).
I, in India, am opposed to piracy in ascending order as follows - music, software, movies and books. Right now, I only want to discuss why I stand by music piracy:

1. In the absence of good radio stations, piracy is the only way available to 'test' a band before making the decision to buy it's music. This argument doesn't hold good for movies or books because both are easily available in India
2. Many bands actually do not mind people downloading their music because like true artists, they want to be heard, not just make money. This is also true of some great freeware developers, and to a lesser extent, writers and filmmakers
   
3. They suffer the least loss in quality and therefore the 'message' and 'feel' aren't diluted
4. The cost of a song, through iTunes for example, is 99¢, which is a prohibitive price in a country where the urban per capita income is about $800 (or $2.20 a day)

Yeah, yeah, "Piracy, it's a Crime" but do I really have to be charming and lovable for you to accept my reasoning?

Case in point.
Still from Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (1982),
directed by Gore Verbinski. © Walt Disney Pictures

Long Time, No Seekh

Updating a blog created to cure my boredom only signals that I have come full circle back to bored. This may not be a bad thing.

My joyous reunion with my camera was commemorated with a recent excursion to Humayun's Tomb, a World Heritage Site. I actively looked for what I thought were elements of composition - verticals and horizontals, order, symmetry/asymmetry and so on. It led me to take shots I wouldn't usually take; a resolve also not to shoot only buildings - an irritating habit of architects - and also provide some human reference in my photographs. I got some interesting panoramas, but I liked this one because it had both the things I was looking for - a compositional element and a (sub?)human element. If I went back there again, I'd take this shot a little better.

B.Arch-3.Arch

Humayun's Tomb is an example of an Indo-Persian Islamic style, with Islamic arches and domes and Indian kiosks and balconies. The delicious Galouti Kebab is another product of Indo-Persian collaboration, originating in Awadh in India, supposedly invented for a Nawab with weak teeth.

The white marble Islamic dome, resting on an Indian red sandstone base, represents Heaven on Earth. One bite of the delicate Galouti would elicit a similar reaction.

Unfortunately for Humayun, he was two hundred years too early to even meet a Nawab of Awadh, let alone munch on a Galouti.

Thank heaven for small morsels.

Before Anyone Else Says It

When someone expresses her/his irritation by making a lateral click (made by sucking the molars on either side of the teeth) and simultaneously opening her/his lips into a grimace, followed by a hissing intake of breath through the molars, let it be known that I first described it thus:

"She/he expressed her/his irritation by making a noise like a match being struck."

If you understood the sound I was talking about, you'd see that my way of describing it is elegant and accurate.
This could be shortened to the more abstract and colloquial

"Her/his mouth struck a match."

Hmmm, I wonder why I hear this sound so often.

Virtual Keybored

Typing with a virtual keyboard is like eating with chopsticks. It gives you enough time to think about the material, it improves digestion because you chew over each morsel, and it separates the relatively clean from the potentially microbe-covered (funnily, your hands are relatively cleaner than a keyboard and potentially microbe-covered when using chopsticks).

Chopsticks and chopstick etiquette have remained unchanged for more than 3000 years; keyboard layout hasn't changed since the invention of the QWERTY layout in 1873 - both have become part of the tradition of our global cross-culture.
I had the good fortune of using both cultural devices recently - both are disarmingly simple but test one's patience when attempting to master them. Perhaps more difficult would be playing 'Chopsticks' on the keyboard. Hopefully you didn't think of something like this when you read previous sentence:

The weather is hot and chopsticky and i'm feeling keybored.

Comic Stripper

This is my entry for a comic strip competition; admittedly I put form over function, and concentrated more on composition and less on communication, but that's what makes you so special, you're not at all judgmental.

Tinkle meets Sin City (I wish): Click for larger picture

Comic Technical Support

• If you needed a loupe to view it, blame the competition organisers, who set a stingy 200 by 600 pixels because they have an expensive internet plan or low hard disk space or whatever
• If you didn't understand it, relax, neither did anyone else unless I explained it to them. I'm still optirealistic though ('realioptimistic' just sounds like 'really optimistic', which I'm not)

This of course doesn't mean I didn't think a lot before making the strip. It's redeeming quality is the focus on the restrictions on dimensions of the strip and the possibilities of symmetry in composition:

• I divided the 600 by 200 pixels into three squares of 200 pixels each, but instead of making three separate panels, I made one panel which naturally divided into three equal parts by virtue of the joke itself
• The elements in the middle portion were forced into symmetry - the speech bubble was centered, the students distributed symmetrically; even the thought bubble is a mirror image of the teacher's shape

In retrospect, I notice I forgot to put words like "Shoo!" and "Scram!" above the people in the right panel; blame it on the pressure of a deadline.

Maybe form is a function?

Waterfall! What, A Fall?

A one day trip to the nearest fall ended with a splat (All puns intended). The Hogenakkal website describes the falls as "exciting holiday destination", "scenic", "sure to catch your attention", "beautiful" and of course, "picturesque". Too bad they left out "seasonal" and "overrun with naked people".

Hogenakkal Falls - Flat on its face

Ignore the three drips in the foreground and concentrate on the three trickles in the middle-ground - unfortunately those were supposed to be the 'Niagara of India'.

It obviously wasn't 'that time of the year' for Hogenakkal, but irregular periods are usually nothing to worry about, so we didn't let it bother us too much. In fact, we stayed till sunset, which brings us to photo number two:

Hogenakkal Fell

Expectations aside, I'd still award Hogenakkal 30 points, especially for the amusement it provided us in calling it Hortugal (a.k.a. Portugal), Hagga-na-kar (Hindi: Do not shit), and whatever other childish names our immature intellects came up with.

Coming up: Fearsome Four at Jög Falls

C.H.U.D.

Now for a much awaited post - what exactly is C.H.U.D.?

I'll leave aside the obvious Wikipedia description of the 1984 American horror flick and its resulting internet meme, though I'll leave you the link to it at the bottom (In true Wikipedia 'External Links' style). (1) Suffice to say the film's name stood for Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dweller, and it came to mean any ugly annoying person.

The alternate meaning (ironically) refers to the primarily Estonian Finno-Ugric peoples, originating perhaps from Slavic chuzoi (foreign) or tshudnyi (attractive), described as exalted and beautiful; the pronunciation is different though. (2)

But then I noticed some interesting similarities:

An attribute of the Chuds or Tšuudi is 'white eyed' referring to their fair-coloured eyes. Here is a C.H.U.D. from a movie poster - white-eyed and beautiful (in it's mother's eyes, at least).

C.H.U.D. (1984) British VHS movie cover.

Copyright by respective movie studios.

Not enough? Well, the Chuds are supposed to have 'departed under the Earth', 'unwilling to remain subject to the White Tzar' (3), probably referring to the Christian Russian settlers encountered by these people; they literally went underground, and closed the passage with stones. I don't need to remind you that the "U.D." in C.H.U.D. stands for 'Underground Dweller' - getting interested? No? Okay, how's this:

From Forest Myths by Pavel F. Limerov (2005)

"The pagan Chudes, who had been the ally of the Eastern Slavs in the North from time immemorial and took very actively part in the ethnogenesis of Russians, was suddenly attributed demonic features. A medieval Russian author comments on the contact of these two cultures as follows: 'The most ancient inhabitants of this region – the barbaric and foul raw meat eaters and white-eyed Chudes, who, having come to the shores of White Lake (Beloye Ozero) plundered the region: burned down the settlements, devoured adolescents and babies, killed the adult and the old in many ways' (Krinichnaia 1987: 83)" (4)

Well, that seems like a perfect Cannibalistic Humanoid, the "C.H." factor. Sadly, their fabled beauty was written off in a fell swoop of the pen, and no libel laws in place at the time, even! There are even worse descriptions, but let's show these guys some compassion huh?

I have two explanations for all these links between the two Chuds

1. Story writer Steph Abbott already knew about this folklore when he came up with the name at a party with C.H.U.D. actors John Heard and Daniel Stern - a perfect historic reference for white, Christian Americans battling demonic (and thus non-Christian) creatures who live underground just like the unfortunate pagan Chuds.
2. I have stumbled upon something new which could be a contribution to the field of Ethnology? Sociolinguistics? Rhinoplasty? You tell me.

Meanwhile, I'll try and submit this little abstract to the Finno-Ugric Media Centre and see if they can correct/accept/ add to it.

(1) C.H.U.D. - Internet article, accessed 21 June, 2010. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C.H.U.D.

(2) Chud - Internet article, accessed 21 June, 2010. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chud

(3) Roerich, Nicholas (1990) Shambhala: In Search of the New Era (214) http://books.google.co.in/books?id=4hZPAGYEFtwC&pg=PA214&lpg=PA214&dq=chud+roerich&source=bl&ots=zzIa0mz36l&sig=QnPvGg1RmSw1HH74denOfbEXSsA&hl=en&ei=RS4fTLOTCNG6rAeN5KW8Cw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CBgQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false

(4) Limerov, Pavel F. (2005) Forest Myths: A Brief Overview of Ideologies before St. Stefan. http://www.folklore.ee/folklore/vol30/limerov.pdf

By the way, don't say rhinoplasty - that's corrective nose surgery.

Activity Time

Today's activity, kids, is to dis-finger your hand like so:

Step 01: Face your palm toward you and take His name. Without faith in Him, nothing can be accomplished. I'm talking of course about your orthopaedist.

Step 02: Grab the end of your little finger (the 'pinky') and pull it as far down as possible and lay it on your palm until it holds by friction. If you are sweating, perhaps dry yourself off or use some talc.

Step 03: Execute similar actions on other fingers, wrapping your index finger around the thumb ultimately. For aesthetic purposes, fan them out a little like I have. You are now equipped like a traditional bhikshuka for begging. All the best!

Note: If you experience pain, go and lie down for some time. You are suffering from Drama Queenness.

Bhikshuka Mudra (The C.H.U.D. Hand)

If you manage this complex yogic feat, take a photo like I have, against an artsy background (or a concrete floor) and get 53 points, no interest rates, nothing!

Uncanny!

As I walked home from the bus stop, I wondered, what are the similarities between Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, Architect of the Indian Constitution, and the woman's brassiere? No doubt you too, dear reader, have pondered over this question until the wee hours of whatever time you are generally asleep.

Firstly, Ambedkar was a great supporter of the downtrodden; a brassiere provides similar support to sagging breasts. In fact, the term 'uplifting' has been applied to both through history.

Both the modern brassiere as well as Ambedkar came into large scale action from the 1930s.

Both were revolutionary and helped in securing freedom for the oppressed.

Ambedkar had origins in the untouchable caste, while the brassiere is an original cast for the 'untouchables'. (yeah, now I'm really milking this, pun intended)

Oh yeah, and of course there's this: (scroll down for the surprise, this post isn't over yet, idiot)

In fact, that there looks like a bra in the picture. (No more clues)

Remember Ambedkar turned Buddhist, all you righteous outraged admirers thinking violent thoughts.

Stop! Motion!

Sorry to all for the delay in posting - 4 followers is as motivating as a Dirty Sanchez (more on that many blogs later)

The weekend presented sparse possibilities so me and Osiris (Osiris and me?) decided to make an amateur stop motion animation film. For all the noobs - all you need is a digital camera, some characters, some decent lighting (which we lacked) and an interesting idea. This is first cut, before any editing, so hold onto your panties for the sound and lights version, but until then, you can beat off to the Sunday premiere of Rats! Rats! Rats!

Just search "how to make a stop motion film" on Google and click on the wikihow result to create your own disasterpiece. It took just a few hours and it came out totally chand (as opposed to C.H.U.D. - more on that next blog)

The Good Samaritan and The Bad Dancer

I have a theory I experiment with regularly: Self destruction can be used as a tool to spread joy. That may have sounded a little dramatic, so let me explain with an example of self-destruction. If you are bad at something, the people who are good at it will experience feelings of pity/ sympathy/ compassion towards you, and will be given a chance to display these feelings and perhaps assist/ encourage you in some way. This will make them feel good about themselves. Worst case, they'll laugh at you, which is also spreading cheer. The people who are bad at it, seeing someone worse (you've gotta be the worst) will feel uplifted and also good about themselves. Making all these people feel good about themselves, you will also feel good about yourself. And I do.

Until now, I just play with this theory, but the real task would be to be deliberately bad, and never let anyone know. For this you must do zen stuff like sacrifice your ego and exercise restraint, which I am still unready for - I have to let someone know what I'm doing, first of all.

This led to the Bad Dancer's Club. We occasionally have parties at college where the social thing to do is dance. Initially it began as a sort of rebellion against the pathetic songs that were being played - Me and the Dog started to dance badly, like really badly - out of rhythm, and gracelessly. Slowly, but surely, the worse dancers joined us, fascinated by our total lack of coordination (I don't think I can convince people that I dance pretty decently any more), while the better dancers were amused by our foolish display (The smug ones were irritated, because "I mean, come on! When are these guys gonna realise it's not funny any more?").

It may sound condescending (I feel it does), but it feels great to have fun with the not-as-goods and amuse the very-goods. I wish someone would do this for me when I struggled with cricket.

Disclaimer: I am not being patronising or exploiting other's weaknesses. My road to disaster has always been paved with the best intentions

Happy Birthday Shiverkumar

When days are getting cooler, the air-conditioning in the bus i get home in mysteriously becomes stronger. Today, I was directly in the stream of one of the vents, and had only my iPod for cover. So I quickly played The Ghost Of Tom Joad by Rage Against The Machine. I recently found that this song has a peculiar effect on me - at one point in the song, the music dies away and only the vocalist is left saying

Wherever somebody's strugglin' to be free
Look in their eyes, Ma, you'll see me"
You'll see me (x8)

The "You'll see me" part integrates back with the guitars so well that it gives me the shivers every time without fail, and shivering is a natural mechanism to fight the cold air conditioning that prehistoric apemen encountered.

It led me to wonder if I was the only one who had a 'shiver' song. If there were more people following this blog (I sneered too), it would have led to an interesting forum.

The Scream, Edvard Munch, 1893

He must have one helluva 'shiver' song.

Huevos Del Toro

There are some months when you are just so bored by everything, that you watch a ten year old movie like Requiem for a Dream, and it waves a red flag at you, and you feel something stir inside even if you're colourblind.
By coincidence that time will also be the time when one of the best metal acts ever, Lamb of God, will decide to come to your city out of the blue and play an amazing concert that brings the house down like a china shop.
Further, you will be able to go to your hometown, which also happens to be one of the most beautiful places in the country, where you are plied with good food and drink, and no BS for a weekend.
There is no right, there is no wrong; there is no good, there is no bad... BUT, this month (the past 30 days, actually) kicked bull. (Triple take, I must have meant "butt", right?)
So, I dedicate this blog to the 30 Days of Night, or the 30 Dates of "Nice!", however you may have it, between April 23rd (My birthday) and May 23rd (optimistically in the future), and just how awesome they were/will be. Hope you had a great time under Taurus too. (They knew Taurus was a bull and not a cow because from here on Earth, you can see right under him, up in the sky)

Community Archives, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Hope you liked all the bull allusions. Find 'em all for 20 points!*

* Points-are-subject-to-market-risk.Please-read-the-offer-document-carefully-before-investing.**

**If you could say that within 5 seconds, you may already have won 20 extra points!

ART for slow PCs Part II

What I missed out mentioning in Part I was: You can't release the window as you drag it, so the whole drawing has to be done in one sweep. THERE! I'm glad I got that off my back, and I hope it doesn't hurt our relachandship.



And now,
(Contd. from previous issue) As she entered the bus, she was aware of a couple of eyebrows raising. She ignored them, though she was secretly thrilled at the attention. Now who will be the lucky one? she thought. Finally, her eyes rested on a thin guy in a black t-shirt, silently moving his head to the beat from his iPod, which she could faintly hear even from where she was standing.
She casually walked the aisle, like an out-of-work East European supermodel, and settled down with her bag in the seat next to him. She heard him audibly sniffing, unmindful of the fact that he could be heard. Her fruity perfume seemed to work as advertised. He fiddled with his iPod a little. Once she caught him taking a peek at her face. He turned away rapidly, but she knew he was checking her out.
She decided to give him a little thrill - as he changed tracks, she brushed against his arm as she straightened her bag. She felt his forearm tense, and smiled smugly at her ability to give this lesser creature some kind of joy.
Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Now this was too much - she hadn't given him any hints to try starting a conversation.
"Excuse me but my headphone cord is caught under your arm, could you move a little?"

I'll never understand the cold looks I get from strange women in the bus.

Triple Take That

This is my favourite wordplay of the day, week, whatever - it can only elicit irritation! Use the most obscure word, to elicit a double take, and then lie, till you can score a triple take! A bonus 10 points if you can actually get it to the next level*
Sample triple take:
"Hey, man? How was the party, heard it rocked!"
"Yeah, dude, it was totally chand!"
"What?"
"I said, it was totally awesome!"
"Oh..."
"Why?"
"I thought you said 'chand'-"
"Yeah, actually I did."

By the way, 'chand' is pronounce like 'shunned', but you can come up with your own word, if you must.

Next blog: Art Rendered by Trails II, with some information I forgot to mention in Part I.




*Points can be redeemed for being abused in a language of your choice

What Happened in Las Coorgas

Prologue: My uncle, a feudal landlord, needed some advice on securing the goodwill of the Gods on his mansion in his estate in Las Coorgas (or Kodagu, in the language of the Ancients). Being the only (almost) architect, I politely acquiesced and took Osiris as a companion, with my aged father on my back for his wisdom.

As we (our ship) climbed into the hills, I noticed the storm clouds gathering in the horizon, headed our way. By the time we reached the town centre, Madikeri, we were caught in a thunderstorm rivalling those at the fights between the Gods and the Titans at Olympus. Never had we seen or heard such an awesome display of Nature's fury directed at Man. As we took shelter in a nearby tavern, we wondered what we had let ourselves in for. But our prayers were answered - a moor on a gleaming white ship took us aboard, agreeing to ferry us to my uncle's mansion and back in return for a small fee and our company.

At my uncle's mansion, we were greeted by a fearsome creature of the Netherworld, Pippus III, son of Pippus II, a direct descendant of Cerberus, the hellhound conceived in the very depths of Hades.

By the grace of the Gods, the creature was chained, and could do us no harm until it was acquainted with us.

We were greeted by the landlord, my uncle, and his stately parents, and after an exchange of pleasantries, were taken to the dining hall, where a sumptuous feast had been prepared for us by the mansion's servants, who were efficient enough to never be seen. After much food , we set down to our task of communing with the Gods, but not without the symbolic sacrifice of our livers, by consuming a quantity of ale fit to please even Dionysius himself.

By evening, we bathed in small naturally heated pools which my uncle had cleverly integrated into the design of his mansion, and then set out on some grey stallions from my uncle's stable to meet some relatives in the neighbouring shire. My uncle was an experienced rider, and many times our hearts were in our mouths as he navigated his steed with a skill we had only heard of from travellers and madmen. At our relatives' palace (for they were the local royal family in the area), we met the aging Queen mother, and were then entertained by her son-in-law, with much eating, drinking of ale, and exchanging of stories. On our return, we took a detour to the Valley of the Fireflies, and witnessed a sight we could never forget - swarms of Fireflies, some the size of our hands, lighting the dark night sky, so that we may not miss the stars, our astral companions. Our hearts filled with awe at this sight, we returned home, and almost immediately fell into our beds, in deep slumber, wondrous of the day ahead.

The next morning, after a delicious breakfast, we took leave of my uncle and his parents with promises to return soon. The moor had sent a friend, in a white ship with red sails, to take us on a pilgrimage of the nearby holy sites in Las Coorgas, before we had to leave once more for our homeland. After paying obeisance to the Gods, the temples of whom might be said to compete with those at Athens for their serenity and closeness to the heavens themselves, we descended to the foot of the famed cascading Falls of Abby, where countless travellers had lost their lives, dashed to the hungry rocks below.



After clicking a couple of photos, and being disgusted by the profusion of plastic bottles and wrappers at each of the places we visited, we met a friend of my dad's back in town and then went to the Raja's fort and garden. The view of the valley was nice, but I had been there before, when it wasn't marred by the pollution and noise, as well as the Park maintenance people's (failed) efforts to beautify something which doesn't need beautifying. Took a shot anyway:



By then our taxi driver had taken his pay and split in his white Ambassador. We had to walk back till the bus stop, where we had a quick dinner and finally headed back home. All in all, a great trip, though it could have lasted for longer. Epilogue: If I'm lucky, my uncle'll call me back and I can give further suggestions for his house's landscaping or perhaps do some site supervision. All under the influence of beer.

The Dissertation From Hell

For those who came in late: In the fall of 2009, I was required to write a dissertation for my course in Architecture. My subject was on Large Scale Graphics which respond contextually to the Architecture they are created on. If that didn't make sense, you're not alone: I spent the whole semester trying to make my guide understand what I was studying, and finally passed with decent marks with no one on the external jury panel getting it still. Its semesters like these when you just finish what you started out to do, trying to lose as little blood as possible along the way.

Sound interesting? Here's the link.
If you use any part of it, please do my ego some good and gimme some credit.

It may not seem tight and slightly childish in parts, but that's mainly (I hope) because

• I was continuously working to make someone(idiot) understand my concept from scratch, and therefore couldn't get deeper.
• To satisfy a couple of egos (more idiots), I had to add stuff which wasn't really relevant

Anyway, I've uploaded it as it was, to remind me. as this haiku explains:

Even a pet project/
Shampooed regularly/
Will develop fleas.

Gotta love them haikus.

Operation Diamond Racket Outtakes

One of the many fake outtakes i created last month for a great South Indian film (hope you can hear the sarcasm dripping through the kilobytes) called Operation Diamond Racket.
In this scene, the heroine has mistakenly shot at our hero, mistaking him for her brother's killer. In the actual movie, he understands and forgives her after she begs for mercy (kshamisu bidi - forgive me).
But I spliced it with another great scene in the movie, where the vamp is asking him (post-seduction) whether he'll leave her for another vamp if she gives him her location (ya, i know, too many pronouns, just watch the movie).
What results is a hilarious (for the 50 people who really know about this movie) and obscure (for the rest) clip; anyway, now it's online - bwuahahaha!

Porcupine Tree Review

Let's start with me: I'm a metal fan, for the most part, but I have varied tracks on my playlist, from Slayer's Disciple and Born of Osiris' Abstract Art, to Seal's Kiss From A Rose and Aqua's Candyman. "Heh, not much of a metal fan", you say? Admittedly, there's more of the former and less of the latter type of music, but what I am trying to emphasize is that my views are not bigoted or uninformed by lack of exposure.
Having said that, I recently heard about Porcupine Tree from a couple of friends ("What? NOW?" said the PT fans in amazement), but when I listened to the songs they recommended, I thought "meh". In fact I would have closed it there, but as usual, I had nothing to do at office today, so I browsed my coworkers PCs through the LAN until I chanced upon the PT discography.
Fastforward about 3 hours, to where I'm completing the last album, having heard only about 6 songs which sounded at least original, though 'good' would be a stretch. I don't wanna start a whalefest here now (If there ever will be any comments on this blog *sigh*), which means don't begin ripping Slayer or Aqua or anyone else, because:

1. Frankly, I'm not a rabid neanderthal when it comes to even my favourite music. Go ahead, insult Lamb Of God, see if I care
2. Just because I'm one writing the blog against the many who would tear at my throats, it by no means implies I'm alone in my opinion

Having made the right apologetic noises and little politenesses, here goes -
PORCUPINE TREE IS OVERRATED, IN FACT THEY PRETTY MUCH SUCK!

Now here's the unforgivable bigotry - I would much rather choose this:

Cecil, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>

via Wikimedia Commons

Over this:

© Jörgens.mi

Even if Araya is a sort of sellout.

Cover Operation

You can only render so much in one day. After that, you start browsing the office LAN looking for movies saved on your co-workers' hard drives. But watching a movie presents some problems:

1. Because of the row arrangement of desks in our office, its hard to quickly minimize the movie AND open something else to look like you're working (only hiding from my boss matters, I really don't care if anyone else notices; in fact, I secretly cherish the thought of presenting myself as something of a badass rebel to other minions)
2. Since I was done with Revit for the day, I really couldn't use the "it's rendering in the background" excuse for watching a movie in the meantime, unless...

I used a tried and tested (at least personally) method - Print Screen your Revit window while it's rendering and set it as your wallpaper, then switch off desktop icons. It looks like a render is going on in the background, while you can watch the movie (I suggest not watching it fullscreen, so that people can see that you're rendering and really can't do anything else etc.)
Since no one around me knew Revit, I could get away with "it takes a lot of time on this damn slow PC" if they asked, but no one did even that. Here's the PrtScrn:

Use it yourself! All the kids are doing it!

I watched A Scanner Darkly until it was time to leave. I think my cover was better than Arctor's...

Art for slow PCs

A few days ago, I was rendering a couple of views in Revit Architecture, and it was really slow - slow enough for the little rendering time window to leave a trail behind it if i clicked and dragged it around the rendering pane. I executed a couple of pieces of ART (Art Rendered by Trails) which I'm quite proud of, even if my smug-shit colleagues smirked behind my back:

By the time I was done rendering, I had ten works of ART. As you can see, there are limitations because of the colour and size of the window, as well as which side it gets dragged from, resulting in a darker and lighter shade. This kind of art, to my knowledge, is limited only to slow PCs, though probably is possible while any program is executing a memory intensive process.
If I can build up a small fan following, I'm ready to consider working on this full time...