another attempt to tweet from email

just checking cross platform compatibility

I recently realized that I cannot upload my Flash movies here (unless hosted somewhere else). :(

Warning: Geeky/nerdy stuff. Do not blame me if you feel drowsy/angry/irritated.

I felt the need to express my opinions about the mystery of the circle and its soul, pi.
The problem with school textbooks is that it always lacks the charm and storytelling required to handle a beautiful subject like mathematics and geometry. I think that its no less than poetry when it comes to, what they call, inner beauty.
The most interesting and probably the earliest influence geometry has on mankind is the circle. It might have started from the life-giving sun or the savior moon, was adopted into dance forms and drawings. I don't know how long did it take for our ancestor to embody the sun and the moon into wood and stone and finally, "invent the wheel". I am sure that it must have been a triumphant moment for that man/woman. Since then, it surely was a long journey as the wheel was refined and then slowly adopted into almost all forms of mechanical motion available to us today. Sure made the lazy men happy.. huh?
While the brutes were whipping the beasts of burden to pull cart loads of merchandise and wage war on their golden chariots; another group of cynical and lonely people were trying to understand this rather ubiquitous shape and were perplexed by its simplicity.
A circle is essentially a line which thoroughly loves a point and keeps trying endlessly to keep facing it but can never meet it. Bound by this constant desire to unite with the point, this line is rendered as an endless loop; a ring.
Probably the first circle was drawn by the same method it is drawn today. All one needs is two small sticks, a string and mother earth. Tie the string to both the sticks. Keep one standing stable on the ground and keep moving the other one such that the string is always tense and stretched outwards. The holy mark thus made is a circle. The only mark the blind stick leaves on the ground is a point, the center.
Well, whats so great about this?
This seemingly simple creation started gaining more attention when the twins; Mathematics and Geometry could not reconcile with each other on its measurement. Certain old people with longish white beards and robes found that there was a fixed proportion to the perimeter of the circle and its width; the diameter. They found it to be about thrice the diameter. As soon as some of them tried to find the exact value, they reached the mouth of a bottomless abyss.
While advanced number systems, fractions and decimals were catching up and were finding their way into the modern world. Wise men tried to express this mysterious ratio, Pi, through fractions and decimals. But their efforts were in vain. They soon realized that this value is unachievable. It is difficult to digest the fact that though everyone can draw a circle, see a circle, construct a circle; but no one knows it truly.

There are many connecting stories and examples with the above mentioned Pi dilemma. I will write about it soon.

¡ʍoɥ noʎ ןןǝʇ ɐuuoƃ ʇou ɯɐ ı

In Rome

Victory, originally uploaded by Abhishek Ghaté.

One of the photographs I clicked in Rome

As written on 15th of January 2008 in New Delhi.

Cold Delhi Morning. The rice lights in my room been twinkling all night, the thick curtains on the window letting in no light.
Under the thick razaai, I have no intention to get up but the alarm set on my mobile phone disagrees with me. The air is cold, the marble floor is colder, the tap water is unbearable and the idea of getting up to take a bath is below freezing point. I have to get up and put a bucket of water to heat. Our maid, 'the aunty', needs warm water to wash the dishes in the morning. Despite her constant nagging, we couldn't make up our mind to buy a geaser for the kitchen. We stuck to heating a bucket of water for her till this season makes way for spring.
Just after I do that, aunty calls me to say that she won't be able to make it for this morning. She had gone out for some family issues out of Delhi and couldn't make it back last night. Naturally, her relatives did not let her leave early in the morning because of the winters. Bottomline: I have to cook breakfast.
Nikheel is up already and has to reach office early today. He is working on his laptop. Mickey is not up yet. I did not take the two Mother Dairy milk packets from our daily doodhwala, coz there were two in our refrigerator from yesterday, or day before. My birthday party had let most of us dazed for hours next day and milk was the last thing we would have had.
I try to get my brain to think for me. The bucket will serve me for my bath. The clock says 8.35. There is still some time to exercise. Just some biceps and shoulders workout. I switch on the computer and play some music. After getting warm a bit, I move to the kitchen. The platform is messed up with empty utensils, plastic bags and spoons. I see that there are no eggs or brown bread (our staple food in the morning). Need to make a trip downstairs to Aalam's general store and buy them. After getting them, I take out my wallet and there is only a five hundred crisp bill with the father of the nation smiling at me. I had forgot to get change for it all day yesterday. Incidentally, it was at Aalam's that the same thing happened yesterday too. I promise to pay him tomorrow and leave. The big black non-stick pan is out on the burner while the white mother dairy ice packets are slowly settling down on another heating water vessel. I see that last night's aloo-matar subji is still hiding the base of the aluminum kadhai. I decide to sandwich that into four brown bread slices, slap em with Amul butter and enjoy it with a large sized two egg omlette and a hot cup of tea, with little sugar of course.
The ice packets have slowly started to come to life again. I throw the water out and start opening the packet, so as to heat the milk in it. Need to use as fewer utensils as possible, cause if aunty doesn't make it today, WE will have to do the dishes. While emptying out the packets, some ice from it plops into the milk and spill it over the stove, the platform and me. I rush to the bathroom, to clean it off. Till then, the bread slices on the pan have started calling my name. I turn them, butter them and empty the second packet of milk.
Eggs are ready to be slain so as to satiate my hunger. I let the milk be on the thin flame, while concentrating on the omlette. Need to get it right, without breaking it. It's a question of honor. It is because of this enthusiasm of mine, that aunty gives me a call in such situations. She has seen me cook and believes that I will not let my clan leave the house with an empty stomach.
The golden yellow disc is ready to be served on the plate. I remove the pan to make space for tea. The lighter is not working, so I use a matchbox. Everyday, I gently tap the back of my hand and the matchbox lands on the shelf, above the gas stove, somewhat like Rajnikant with his cigarette. But today, as universe and Mr. Murphy were on my case, it lands up right into the tea. I quickly cook up a three-second rule and pick it out. I burn my middle finger from the inner walls of the vessel and the tea ends up with what would be the ambient smell of Sivakasi.
Anyways, breakfast is ready. Tea is ready. I am ready. It does not seem that bad at all.
I clean the milk off the stove and the platform. Leave the garbage out for the cleaner to take away. Close the door and walk to office with only one thought on my blank and cold brain "Need to write this into my diary dearest"......

रात के सवा नौ बज रहे हैं। अमरीकी देशभक्ति का बिगुल आई मैक से होता हुआ मेरे कानो को सहला रहा है। महेश के जिद थी की कोई एक्शन फ़िल्म देखनी है। विकल्पों की कमी के चलते मैंने "Enemy at the gates" चलाना ठीक समझा। मानता हूँ की उसमे कुछ वयस्क सीन है, पर अपना महेश सिर्फ़ शादीशुदा ही नही बल्कि दफ्तर में दूसरा सबसे बुजुर्ग व्यक्ति है।
आज का काम निपट गया। आज ही दोपहर को मंदाकिनी से बात हुई थी। बातो बातों में ब्लौग का विषय आया, और तभी मैंने ठान ली की आज या तो इस पार या उस पार। तो लीजिये जनाब, हम हाजिर हैं अपने हिम्मत और किस्मत आजमाने।
इस वख्त एक लेखक की दुविधा मैं पूर्णतः समझ सकता हूँ। क्या लिखुँ? कौन पढेगा? किसे पड़ी है? इन सवालों का कोई जवाब नही है, सिर्फ़ एक ही दिलासा है -- कोई तो होगा।
कई साल हो गए हिन्दी लिखे हुए। वह तों तकनिकी बढ़त और सुविधाओं का खेल है जो आज रोमन हिन्दी की आसानी और देवनागरी की सुन्दरता एक प्रोग्राम में समा गई है। कमाल है।
कभी सोचा नही था की यह इतना आसान हो पाएगा। स्व रघुनाथ जोशी जी ने अपना सारा जीवन इसी क्षेत्र को अर्पण कर दिया।
विस्तार से बताऊंगा, किंतु अभी महेश जाने के मूड में है। मेरे पास दफ्तर की चाबी नही है।