The Improbability Clause

For/From when the colors had sounds and sounds had colors. the sounds the rhythm of the universe.  Ha, how ambitious - universe;? from when you couldn’t conceive and hold the size and volume of earth, forget earth think of the house, the city, all its veins and nerves , power-line , traffic, the lights and sounds of life.  See it all, encompass it in your mind. Hold the image , the size the spread. It's all yours ,in your mind. The district, the state, the vast ocean, how many kilometers can you hold in your head? Why can’t you? Because you hold size in your head as a comparison with you in proportion.. When the proportion goes out of whack, when distance is huge and you are small, insignificant, bordering on minuscule. And then the comparison is lost on scale. At what distance do you become too small, in your own mind. Does it vary for people to people . (I was always interested in measuring the mind of others.) And you lose scope. You can imagine earth ,but as...

Hope is the last bastion of human endurance. Don't know where I read or heard it. May be a book, may be a movie. It is too good to be an original statement. Ah, cynicism mixed with hope. A strange mixture. An improbable combination. Then again, I think it is one of the gifts of 21st century. When you know too much, to be not cynical. And yet a million years of human evolution sneaks in an ounce of hope. When you discover suddenly that you like peppy Jazz music, and it transports you to light autumn rains outside a pub in New York. The cool yellowish haze of city lights, the hum of life and movement, the gentle titter-patter of reluctant rains, the smoky scents. A sleepy city, fully awake. Imagination that takes you to a place and time you have never known. Then you know there is hope. Why? Because you know things have happened in the past. Things that first came to your imagination. Unlikely things, which came to pass. Defiance of nature, of our petty cynicism. I don't...

Imagine finding a place to stay in a city, say Bangalore. You know what you are looking for, you have your specifications. A place that allows bachelors (Good luck with that!), within your budget, with basic amenities like wifi, may be a parking spot for your dysfunctional bike. You know such places exist, you just don't know where, and how to find it. A few years ago, you would have found a house broker and have extensive negotiations. He will show you a couple of shoddy houses to bring down your expectations and drive up his utility. Finally you will most likely settle for a place within your parameters and pay the brokerage. Lets deep-dive into what happened here. The brokers job was just connecting you to an opportunity that already existed. You are paying for your ignorance. This was a simple, if inefficient example. You might think, that don't all payments fall under ignorance costs then? Imagine you take an Uber or Ola, then you pay for convenience, not ignoranc...

At this point of time you may think, I'm going to talk about India and its struggle for freedom. Freedom. Seems like a heavy word. Dense with meaning. Understood by the oppressed, and the stoners. Free beer, free software, freebies. Free has connotations of cheap, easily available. But oh boy' is it expensive. People say best things in life are free. Like clean air, or beautiful scenery. But if you are not naive, you know these do not come free. Clean air requires existence of trees, giving up on comfort of individual vehicles for the common good, to reduce pollution, expensive pollution control devices in the factories. Beautiful scenery ? Where? In your living room? Or in the mountains, beaches, famous tourist spots? Is it free to travel there? To stay, to eat? Enjoyment of beauty is free of course. But getting there has a cost, like the fine print on a contract or an agreement. Is it freedom, to curtail individual desires for collective good? Is it freedom, t...

This is a story of a series of unfortunate events. And true to Murphy's law, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. I know this seems like a concluding statement, but I’m an impatient guy, and hence should be given some liberties as such. A trip to Bheemeshwari; rumoured to be beautiful, a place of green and blue.  Anticipations were high, after a stressful week at work, a chance to unwind and relax. Four people, two bikes. One rented FZ in reasonably good condition, and a old rickety Discover 150, which ran more on faith than on petrol. First item on agenda naturally for me, was breakfast, for which we confidently  went to MTR. It opens at 7:30 am , I assured them.  As a prelude to the rest of the day, it was not open.  We waited about 15 mins, after which, to my relief, they opened. We had a sumptuous breakfast. Deepika chose idli vada, Ken got some sweet Chandrahara, Sandeep settled for medu vada. I wanted wheat dosa, but the ca...