Chomp Chomp Chomp

A short status update on what’s going on in my life.

With the little one in tow, our days have sort of become more organized, if only by force of taking care of her every day. Her mealtimes, nap times, and bath time dictate what we are doing when. In our “free” time (her naps or after we put her in bed for the night) we focus either on cooking or cleaning or resting up so we can rise for when she needs us next.

In all of this, I’ve noticed that what’s flourishing is my consumption of books. I can’t say reading any more, since 2 out of the 4 books in my “Currently reading” are audiobooks.

I’m currently listening to “Rousseau and Revolution” by Will and Ariel Durant. This is Book 10 of “The Story of Civilization” series. I do not intend on reading the entire series. I picked up this one from the Seattle Public Library (through the Libby app) because I thought it’ll be about, well, Rousseau and the French Revolution. It is, but it encompasses so much more. That’s how I learnt that the series is sort of enmeshed and can be read as one long history. The book started about the life and times of Rousseau and then veered off to tell the contemporary history of every country in Europe. Then it expanded to Turkey and Iran and even went all the way up to Nadir Shah’s conquest of Delhi. So it didn’t really stick around Europe either. I love the extremely detailed descriptions of random things. How many theaters or guild workers or beggars a particular city had in its heyday during this era. How Catherine the Great is linked to her mother-in-law, in excruciating detail. What were the exact names of all the music composed by Mozart and what some of them sounded like. When coming to the Muslim world, the authors also verbatim print out some of their favorite poems by famous poets and the reader does a good job of reading them aloud. I’m also taking the book with a grain of salt. It does a fair job of describing every civilization and country it encounters as the greatest and the finest. But most of the book is written from the perspective of European countries being more advanced, if not superior, due to the Enlightenment.

I listen to this book during the time when I’m doing the dishes. It’s kinda cool to focus on that while getting my hands dirty. I can’t control the flow of the book other than playing and pausing, so I have to just listen. It’s somewhat meditative.

Before this, I was listening to “My year of Rest and Relaxation”. It’s a pretty raucous book, filled with the suicidal and petty inner monologue of the narrator and protagonist of the book. But I grew tired of it around 70% in. I’ve reached a point where I have a hint of what’s going to happen and I’m not looking forward to it. But I am. “Rousseau…” is pretty long. I’m half way in on the 60 hour book. So perhaps I’ll return to “My year of…” before I finish the former. Otherwise, it’ll end up in the “Not Finished” pile and I don’t want to do that to this book. It’s actually pretty funny and sad and grating and great. Highly recommend!

In the “Reading” section, I’ve been reading the web novel “Worm”. It’s about “parahumans” which are humans with some kind of super powers or the other. In a world that normalizes super powers and splits these people into Heroes and Villains (and almost all of them are teenagers), the story of how a teenage girl in High School gains her powers and what she does with them is fascinating. I got to the book via the LessWrong community, so it’s got a sort of hidden agenda too – to teach us readers how it would be if all our decisions are logical and based on thinking things through instead of emotions.

It’s a great contrast to Rousseau (the man and his writings, not the book above) since he was all anti-Enlightenment, Heart-not-Mind, “don’t teach a child about religion or science till they’re a teenage, just let them play”. I have thoughts there, but that may be a whole different rant.

Worm is pretty long. Again, I’m about midway through it and I read a chapter or two before bedtime. It feels a lot like when I read War and Peace – I would keep reading whenever I got even a moment free, and the book just wouldn’t end. Apparently, the follow up books in this “parahumans” series are even longer. So unless Worm ends with some major cliffhangers or unsolved questions, I won’t be pursuing the rest of the books. Besides, I started reading it as a sort of introduction to the thinking of the LessWrong community, so I’m going to use it as the primer it was meant to be and dive back into the community after I finish.

Since I am reading and listening to all these long books which will take me months to finish, I recently decided to pick up something simple and small. I had a copy of Earthlings by Sayaka Murata sitting around and I’ve just started reading it. It’s a nice and easy read. Edit: As I’ve progressed through the book, I’ve come to realize that it’s going to deal with some really heavy themes. But it’s very well written and I’m not going to put it down. I love the feel of the physical book when all I’ve been consuming are audiobooks and webpages. I love Japanese and Chinese authors (along with Russian and Eastern European authors) and I love the world that Murata is creating. I have Convenience Store Woman also sitting somewhere. Will unpack that if I absolutely love this book.

It’s not all books though. We’ve been working through the latest season of The Crown and have finished House of The Dragon (except for the last episode. I don’t think we will watch that till the next season comes along) and we didn’t really like it that much. We’ve also watched a string of movies recently – Fantastic Beasts being the latest one. I loved Grindelwald in it, though the dialog writer must have blacked out through much of the movie as a lot of characters just don’t have lines . Also drunk was the dialog writer of the movie Brahamastra. The dialogs in that one were somewhere between horrible, missing, and cringy.

I’m feeling that there aren’t a lot of great movies or TV out there right now and books and audiobooks are doing the perfect job of replacing them as media. Added bonus that book reading is so individualistic. I have essentially spent days in the number of hours working through these books alone.

Hmmm. This was supposed to be a short post. Oh well, this is why blogs are fun and Twitter is not. I get to write as much or as little as I want on here and you, dear reader, can choose to skip it or read till the end. If you’ve reached here, thanks!

Marriage

I woke up sweating three days ago. I had been having a very intense morning dream, in which I was constantly repeating to myself the following words – “I’m getting married.”

“I’m getting married!”

“I’m getting married!!”

“I’m getting married!!”

The idea had slowly percolated through my conscious to my subconscious and finally reached my dream state. I am now fully, mind, body, and soul, aware that I am getting married to Jahanvi, the love of my life.

I’ve tried to write this post about twelve times now. I’ve written something funny, sarcastic, philosophical, and even a treatise on bachelorhood as a gateway to marriage. But every time I wrote, I felt as if something or the other was missing. Deleted, revised, edited, no draft seemed to come close to the idea and tradition that is marriage. 

But when I woke up three days ago, I knew I had the instruction that I needed to begin. The final key to the puzzle, though, came a little later. When panditji sat me down yesterday with relatives, old and new, he explained what was happening here. As the mantra washed over me, the real import of this ceremony came to mind. The idea that this is a prayer, which talks about our lifetimes, which begs the blessings of everyone who surrounds us, and which includes the creation of bonds which we forge with our own hearts and minds, spoke to me of the strength of this undertaking. 

Up until it was only about the preparation of the marriage, or when I was with relatives who joked about life before and after marriage, and the effect of marriage on people, I felt closer to my community and to the power that those family ties hold. But as the venue and the occasion changed, I felt the power of the ties that I, with every offering, was creating myself. 

Marriage means in terms of the coming together of two people, two families, and two communities. But what it means to the people at the center of it is the coming together of two souls. That bond, which creates something glorious together, is what I’m feeling since the ceremonies started and which I’ll keep feeling for the rest of my life, because while I’ve seen Jahanvi as my beloved till now, I have now seen her as my self. 

Death

Death,

come to me slowly

and stand besides me

like a friend

for I will have lived fully

by the time you come.

Or,

stand in attention

like an enemy

and let us fight

till the end of eternity

before you take my soul.

But,

do not creep up suddenly

and take me with

a treacherous knife in my back

like a wretched, unwary man.

 

Death,

fight me like an enemy

or greet me as a friend

but be not a stranger

when you take me in the end.

The thing about Shoes.

Today, after I came back from office, I took out my wallet and keys and kept them on the side table. Then, as I was about to take off my shoes, I realized something – I realized the value of wearing shoes. You see, whenever we have a long or an important task ahead of us, we get ready. If it is a mental task like an interview or an exam, we cool our minds and prepare for the next few hours. When we are going for a trek or for camping, we pack the right gear and wear the right kind of boots. Yes, boots.

I realized that to me, wearing shoes means that I am ready for action. Many people in my family and even in my friends often tell me that my practice of wearing shoes in the house long after the day has ended, is kind of irritating. Well, I got this habit from my Dad and as I come to think of it, he is also always prepared for action. 🙂

Being prepared for anything is always important. It is not necessary to wear shoes in your sleep, but mentally, your shoes should always be on and ready for action, because in life, preparation could mean survival.

Just 7 days

Hello all, just wanted to pop in and say that I now am acutely aware that there are just 7 days remaining in my stay in India. It’s been a great month and no matter how much I hate the heat, you just gotta love India!!!

In other news, I am the new owner of nitinkhanna.com thanks to the diligence of my brother Nipun. He just pounced on that domain name like it was a glass of hot water and a plate of fruits ( yeah, my brother is not the same!!!). Thanks to him, whenever you all go to nitinkhanna.com it’ll bring you here. That’s not half- bad is it? 🙂

I guess I’ll do something with the website later, maybe host my resume on it with my profile and details. But for now, in these last few days, a rainy Delhi awaits me, both outside the house and within.

Logging out,
Nitin Khanna

A New Friend Every Day!

This is a new post.

There’s a lot going on with the world right now. The Japanese tragedy. The American AT&T – T-Mobile deal. The newest Middle Eastern crisis. There seems a lot to worry about. It also makes us think what we as individuals can do. But it also makes us wonder how we can affect those around us in order to do something positive. That brings us to today’s Question – How many people can we ever affect in our lives? Dunbar’s Number says not more than 150. That means we cannot have more than 150 people in our lives at any given moment of time. But how many of even these do we talk to daily? Four? Five? Maybe ten if we have really, really strong bonds with some people.

Count the number of people you talk to on a daily basis. Parents. A few friends. A few other relatives and colleagues with whom you may have some work in the course of the day. Put that number down somewhere a piece of paper, in your cellphone or maybe at the back of your notebook. Then stare at that number for a full thirty seconds. No, don’t tell me you know that number simply because you counted it. Stare at it! Now understand the significance of that number. These are the only people whose lives you can affect in any measurable way on any given day.

When you know your number, resolve. Resolve to change that number, increase it, bring it to such a field that it may be called respectable (You, by the way, are the judge of that yourself. Decide how many people do you want to affect in your life). How will you affect so many people in your daily life? Talk to them. There is no better way of communication than talking to the person face to face. If that is simply not possible (maybe you’re reading this post from your outpost in Siberia or Outer-space) then decide the next best way. Maybe write them an email, or send them an SMS or even maybe leave them a small note everyday. And don’t think of writing a lot. There is not enough time for people to read a lot. Just keep it simple and say a little something. Sometimes a hello and a small chat is all that’s needed for someone to know that you are a part of their lives. And see to it that you reach that goal of yours, if not right on the first day than at least from day seven onwards of taking that resolve. That gives you a week to decide how you will expand that number of people who get affect by your life and then to start affecting them too. If you want to do something unconventional then go ahead and get online and write a post. Maybe this post of mine will be read by more people than I can imagine. Maybe I’ll affect more people than I think I can. Either ways, I’ve done something so that people may remember me by.

There’s a world of possibility to explore when it comes to making friends and keeping them.

Have fun!

I am a Spectacle

When you get up tomorrow morning, take out two small seconds out of your busy schedule and say to yourself as soon as you open your mind, “I am a Spectacle”. Don’t say it in a repetitive manner, say it with conviction because only by saying it with conviction can you tell yourself that it’s the truth and that you truly believe in yourself and this fact. And believe me, it is a fact.

You may not accept it at first. It may seem absurd. But you are, indeed, a wonderful spectacle. You are a creation beyond all other creation. You are the person with limitless capability and imagination. Because you may not be exceptionally bright or talented. In fact, most people are not born with any talents at all. But you have a spark within you. You have that one fleeting feeling in which you tell yourself that you are made for bigger and better things than ever before. That is not a lie. You may be 42 or 24, 17 or 71 but you do have that possibility ahead of you. You can be bigger and better. In not in physical structure then in thought and dreams and actions. No one asks you to be a philanthropist when you throw that odd coin to that beggar on the street but you do because you know that you are better off than that person.

So unshackle yourself from the restraints of your own mind and believe in this if nothing else, “I am a Spectacle!”

In Space

I am in space
Lost amongst the light
Of a million dying stars
It is not cold
But I am not warm
There is no movement
For there is no way
To judge movement
There is no up or down
Nor left or right
For there is no plane
To judge direction
There is no gravity
It is very strange
And yet very familiar
Why did I ever need gravity?
There is no physics
For nothing is relative
A million miles of nothing
Or maybe
A million miles of me
I am confused
Although it is very clear
That I am here
I am in space

[Fiction] The Dress

She had spent a fortune on that dress.

Yet when she looked at herself in it, she was satisfied. It was a surprise for Him, though not bigger than the surprise which waited for him in his Credit Statement at the end of the month.

She opened the doors and went on towards the party. She wasn’t the center of attention but it was enough that he had seen her from afar. His eyes were glowing when he looked at her. When she finally got to him, he twirled her around and looked at the dress, impressed at her choice. It was a beautiful Emerald Green and Blue dress and her shoulder length hair and petite figure made the dress shine even more than it actually did. She happily showed off her dress to him and he approved of it with a smug look on his face. She shone because he was happy with the dress.

Soon they were separated, in their own little groups, chatting and socializing with friends. Every once in a while she would catch him glancing at her from the corner of his eye, enjoying the sight. After some time, the men went into a different room for drinks and the ladies sat down to enjoy dinner. Everyone complimented her on her dress and many women asked her about it, appalled at the price of the garment. She enjoyed this new attention, though it could never match how he had made her feel. After the dinner, everyone was enjoying dessert when someone came and told her that she was expected on the phone. In her rush to get up and get to the call, she pulled a napkin with herself and a cup of custard tilted and poured itself on her dress. The world froze. There was no phone call, no time, even space had lost it’s meaning for those few moments. There was only a sense of urgency. There was not even a sense of embarrassment as she slowly started crying right there in front of all those ladies. All that mattered was that the dress was ruined.

She rushed to the restroom and tried hard to clear the custard, but it was as adamant as winter in the Arctic. It stuck on, not willing to budge one inch for her sake. She tried and tried and she cried and cried but to no avail. Even her tears could not wipe out the custard now. The Stain remained.

As the party came to an end, the men returned from their seclusion. He looked for her in the crowd but could not see her. His worry eased just a bit when someone told about her getting a phone call. None of the ladies dared to mention about her dress. A few detached from the party and went home. He grew wary now. He wanted to see her, to ensure that she’s safe. Suddenly he saw her walk in from the far end of the room, only, this time her dress was frizzled and wet, a deep patch of water barely hiding a deep stain. He looked at her, worried. She looked at him, a scared look creasing her brows. She came up to him and tried to explain what had happened and how much she had tried to fix it. He listened to her as she explained and inspected the dress when she pointed to it. Then when she stopped and looked at him expectantly, waiting for a chide or a remark from him, her eyes watery with new tears welling up since he had a grim look on his face, he slowly smiled and said – “Don’t worry, it’s only a dress.”

Years later, she loved wearing that dress on every anniversary and loved telling anyone who asked, the story of the dress, the way he proposed to her the same night of the incident and how, after everything she tried, the Stain remained.