Caste Brahmins, classification, and ANN

1. Caste Brahmins:

First, a clarification: No, I was not born in any one of the Brahmin castes, particularly, not at all in the Konkanastha Brahmins’ caste.

Second, a suggestion: Check out how many caste-Brahmins have made it to the top in the Indian and American IT industry, and what sort of money they have made—already.

No, really.

If you at all bother visiting this blog, then I do want you to take a very serious note of both these matters.

No. You don’t have to visit this blog. But, yes, if you are going to visit this blog, to repeat, I do want you to take  matters like these seriously.

Some time ago, perhaps a year ago or so, a certain caste-Brahmin in Pune from some place (but he didn’t reveal his shakha, sub-caste, gotra, pravar, etc.) had insulted me, while maintaining a perfectly cool demeanor for himself, saying how he had made so much more money than me. Point taken.

But my other caste-Brahmin “friends” kept quiet at that time; not a single soul from them interjected.

In my off-the-cuff replies, I didn’t raise this point (viz., why these other caste-Brahmins were keeping quiet), but I am sure that if I were to do that, then, their typical refrain would have been (Marathi) “tu kaa chiDatos evhaDa, to tar majene bolat hotaa.” … English translation: Why do you get so angry? He was just joking.

Note the usual caste-Brahmin trick: they skillfully insert an unjustified premise; here, that you are angry!

To be blind to the actual emotional states or reactions of the next person, if he comes from some other caste, is a caste-habit with the caste-Brahmins. The whole IT industry is full of them—whether here in India, or there in USA/UK/elsewhere.

And then, today, another Brahmin—a Konkanastha—insulted me. Knowing that I am single, he asked me if I for today had taken the charge of the kitchen, and then, proceeded to invite my father to a Ganesh Pooja—with all the outward signs of respect being duly shown to my father.


Well, coming back to the point which was really taken:

Why have caste-Brahmins made so much money—to the point that they in one generation have begun very casually insulting the “other” people, including people of my achievements?

Or has it been the case that the people of the Brahmin castes always were this third-class, in terms of their culturally induced convictions, but that we did not come to know of it from our childhood, because the elderly people around us kept such matters, such motivations, hidden from us? May be in the naive hope that we would thereby not get influenced in a bad manner? Possible.

And, of course, how come these caste-Brahmins have managed to attract as much money as they did (salaries in excess of Rs. 50 lakhs being averagely normal in Pune) even as I was consigned only to receive “attract” psychic attacks (mainly from abroad) and insults (mainly from those from this land) during the same time period?

Despite all my achievements?

Do take matters like these seriously, but, of course, as you must have gathered by now, that is not the only thing I would have, to talk about. And, the title of this post anyway makes this part amply clear.


2. The classification problem and the ANNs:

I have begun my studies of the artificial neural networks (ANNs for short). I have rapidly browsed through a lot of introductory articles (as also the beginning chapters of books) on the topic. (Yes, including those written by Indians who were born in the Brahmin castes.) I might have gone through 10+ such introductions. Many of these, I had browsed through a few years ago (I mean only the introductory parts). But this time round, of course, I picked them up for a more careful consideration.

And soon enough (i.e. over just the last 2–3 days), I realized that no one in the field (AI/ML) was talking about a good explanation of this question:

Why is it that the ANN really succeeds as well as it does, when it comes to the classification tasks, but not others?

If you are not familiar with Data Science, then let me note that it is known that ANN does not do well on all the AI tasks. It does well only on one kind of them, viz., the classification tasks. … Any time you mention the more general term Artificial Intelligence, the layman is likely to think of the ANN diagram. However, ANNs are just one type of a tool that the Data Scientist may use.

But the question here is this: why does the ANN do so well on these tasks?

I formulated this question, and then found an answer too, and I would sure like to share it with you (whether the answer I found is correct or not). However, before sharing my answer, I want you to give it a try.

It would be OK by me if you answer this question in reference to just one or two concrete classification tasks—whichever you find convenient. For instance, if you pick up OCR (optical character recognition, e.g., as explained in Michael Nielson’s free online book [^]), then you have to explain why an ANN-based OCR algorithm works in classifying those MNIST digits / alphabets.


Hint: Studies of Vedic literature won’t help. [I should know!] OTOH, studies of good books on epistemology, or even just good accounts covering methods of science, should certainly come in handy.

I will give you all some time before I come back on that question.

In the meanwhile, have fun—if you wish to, and of course, if you are able to. With questions of this kind. (Translating the emphasis in the italics into chaste Marathi: “laayaki asali tar.” Got it?)


A song I like:
(Marathi) “ooncha nicha kaahi neNe bhagawant”
Lyrics: Sant Tukaram
Music and Singer: Snehal Bhatkar

 

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And to think…

Many of you must have watched the news headlines on TV this week; many might have gathered it from the ‘net.

Mumbai—and much of Maharashtra—has gone down under. Under water.

And to think that all this water is now going to go purely to waste, completely unused.

… And that, starting some time right from say February next year, we are once again going to yell desperately about water shortage, about how water-tankers have already begun plying on the “roads” near the drought-hit villages. … May be we will get generous and send not just 4-wheeler tankers but also an entire train to a drought-hit city or two…

Depressing!


OK. Here’s something less depressing. [H/t Jennifer Ouellette (@JenLucPiquant) ]:

“More than 2,000 years ago, people were able to create ice in the desert even with temperatures above freezing!” [^]

The write-up mentions a TED video by Prof. Aaswath Raman. Watched it out of idle interest, checked out his Web site, and found another TED video by him, here [^]. Raman cites statistics that blew me!

They spend “only” $24 billion on supermarket refrigeration (and other food-related cooling), but they already spend $42 billion on data-center cooling!!


But, any way, I did some further “research” and landed at a few links, like the Wiki on Yakhchal [^], on wind-catcher [^], etc.  Prof. Raman’s explanation in terms of the radiative cooling was straight-forwards, but I am not sure I understand the mechanism behind the use of a qanat [^] in Yakhchal/windcatcher cooling. It would be cool to do some CFD simulations though.


Finally, since I am once again out of a job (and out of all my saved money and in fact also into credit-card loans due to some health issue cropping up once again), I was just idly wondering about all this renewable energy business, when something struck me.


The one big downside of windmills is that the electricity they generate fluctuates too much. You can’t rely on it; the availability is neither 24X7 nor uniform. Studies in fact also show that in accommodating the more or less “random” output of windmills into the conventional grid, the price of electricity actually goes up—even if the cost of generation alone at the windmill tower may be lower. Further, battery technology has not improved to such a point that you could store the randomly generated electricity economically.

So, I thought, why not use that randomly fluctuating windmill electricity in just producing the hydrogen gas?

No, I didn’t let out a Eureka. Instead, I let out a Google search. After all, the hydrogen gas could be used in fuel-cells, right? Would the cost of packaging and transportation of hydrogen gas be too much? … A little searching later, I landed at this link: [^]. Ummm… No, no, no…. Why shoot it into the natural gas grid? Why not compress it into cylinders and transport by trains? How does the cost economics work out in that case? Any idea?


Addendum on the same day, but after about a couple of hours:

Yes, I did run into this link: “Hydrogen: Hope or Hype?” [^] (with all the links therein, and then, also this: [^]).

But before running into those links, even as my googling on “hydrogen fuel energy density” still was in progress, I thought of this idea…

Why at all transport the hydrogen fuel from the windmill farm site to elsewhere? Why not simply install a fuel cell electricity generator right at the windmill farm? That is to say, why not use the hydrogen fuel generated via electrolysis as a flywheel of sorts? Get the idea? You introduce a couple of steps in between the windmill’s electricity and the conventional grid. But you also take out the fluctuations, the bad score on the 24X7 availability. And, you don’t have to worry about the transportation costs either.

What do you think?


Addendum on 12th July 2018, 13:27 hrs IST

Further, I also browsed a few links that explore another,  solution: using compressed air: a press report [^], and a technical paper [^]. (PDF of the paper is available, but the paper would be accessible only to mechanical engineers though. Later Update: As to the press report, well, the company it talks about has already merged with another company, and has abandoned the above-ground storage of compressed air [^])

I think that such a design reduces the number of steps of energy conversions. However, that does not necessarily mean that the solution involving hydrogen fuel generation and utilization (both right at the wind-farm) isn’t going to be economical.

Economics determines (or at least must determine) the choice. Enough on this topic for now. Wish I had a student working with me; I could have then written a paper after studying the solution I have proposed above. (The idea is worth a patent too. Too bad I don’t have the money to file one. Depressing, once again!!)


OK. Enough for the time being. I may later on add the songs section if I feel like it. And, iterative modifications will always be done, but will be mostly limited to small editorial changes. Bye for now.

 

Are the recent CS graduates from India that bad?

In the recent couple of weeks, I had not found much time to check out blogs on a very regular basis. But today I did find some free time, and so I did do a routine round-up of the blogs. In the process, I came across a couple of interesting posts by Prof. Dheeraj Sanghi of IIIT Delhi. (Yes, it’s IIIT Delhi, not IIT Delhi.)

The latest post by Prof. Sanghi is about achieving excellence in Indian universities [^]. He offers valuable insights by taking a specific example, viz., that of the IIIT Delhi. I would like to leave this post for the attention of [who else] the education barons in Pune and the SPPU authorities. [Addendum: Also this post [^] by Prof. Pankaj Jalote, Director of IIIT Delhi.]

Prof. Sanghi’s second (i.e. earlier) post is about the current (dismal) state of the CS education in this country. [^].

As someone who has a direct work-experience in both the IT industry as well as in teaching in mechanical engineering departments in “private” engineering colleges in India, the general impression I seem to have developed seemed to be a bit at odds with what was being reported in this post by Prof. Sanghi (and by his readers, in its comments section). Of course, Prof. Sanghi was restricting himself only to the CS graduates, but still, the comments did hint at the overall trend, too.

So, I began writing a comment at Prof. Sanghi’s blog, but, as usual, my comment soon grew too big. It became big enough that I finally had to convert it into a separate post here. Let me share these thoughts of mine, below.


As compared to the CS graduates in India, and speaking in strictly relative terms, the mechanical engineering students seem to be doing better, much better, as far the actual learning being done over the 4 UG years is concerned. Not just the top 1–2%, but even the top 15–20% of the mechanical engineering students, perhaps even the top quarter, do seem to be doing fairly OK—even if it could be, perhaps, only at a minimally adequate level when compared to the international standards.

… No, even for the top quarter of the total student population (in mechanical engineering, in “private” colleges), their fundamental concepts aren’t always as clear as they need to be. More important, excepting the top (may be) 2–5%, others within the top quarter don’t seem to be learning the art of conceptual analysis of mathematics, as such. They probably would not always be able to figure out the meaning of even a simplest variation on an equation they have already studied.

For instance, even after completing a course (or one-half part of a semester-long course) on vibrations, if they are shown the following equation for the classical transverse waves on a string:

\dfrac{\partial^2 \psi(x,t)}{\partial x^2} + U(x,t) = \dfrac{1}{c^2}\dfrac{\partial^2 \psi(x,t)}{\partial t^2},

most of them wouldn’t be able to tell the physical meaning of the second term on the left hand-side—not even if they are asked to work on it purely at their own convenience, at home, and not on-the-fly and under pressure, say during a job interview or a viva voce examination.

However, change the notation used for second term from U(x,t) to S(x,t) or F(x,t), and then, suddenly, the bulb might flash on, but for only some of the top quarter—not all. … This would be the case, even if in their course on heat transfer, they have been taught the detailed derivation of a somewhat analogous equation: the equation of heat conduction with the most general case, including the possibly non-uniform and unsteady internal heat generation. … I am talking about the top 25% of the graduating mechanical engineers from private engineering colleges in SPPU and University of Mumbai. Which means, after leaving aside a lot of other top people who go to IITs and other reputed colleges like BITS Pilani, COEP, VJTI, etc.

IMO, their professors are more responsible for the lack of developing such skills than are the students themselves. (I was talking of the top quarter of the students.)

Yet, I also think that these students (the top quarter) are at least “passable” as engineers, in some sense of the term, if not better. I mean to say, looking at their seminars (i.e. the independent but guided special studies, mostly on the student-selected topics, for which they have to produce a small report and make a 10–15 minutes’ presentation) and also looking at how they work during their final year projects, sure, they do seem to have picked up some definite competencies in mechanical engineering proper. In their projects, most of the times, these students may only be reproducing some already reported results, or trying out minor variations on existing machine designs, which is what is expected at the UG level in our university system anyway. But still, my point is, they often are seen taking some good efforts in actually fabricating machines on their own, and sometimes they even come up with some good, creative, or cost-effective ideas in their design- or fabrication-activities.

Once again, let me remind you: I was talking about only the top quarter or so of the total students in private colleges (and from mechanical engineering).

The bottom half is overall quite discouraging. The bottom quarter of the degree holders are mostly not even worth giving a post X-standard, 3 year’s diploma certificate. They wouldn’t be able to write even a 5 page report on their own. They wouldn’t be able to even use the routine metrological instruments/gauges right. … Let’s leave them aside for now.

But the top quarter in the mechanical departments certainly seems to be doing relatively better, as compared to the those from the CS departments. … I mean to say: if these CS folks are unable to write on their own even just a linked-list program in C (using pointers and memory allocation on the heap), or if their final-year projects wouldn’t exceed (independently written) 100+ lines of code… Well, what then is left on this side for making comparisons anyway? … Contrast: At COEP, my 3rd year mechanical engineering students were asked to write a total of more than 100 lines of C code, as part of their routine course assignments, during a single semester-long course on FEM.

… Continuing with the mechanical engineering students, why, even in the decidedly average (or below average) colleges in Mumbai and Pune, some kids (admittedly, may be only about 10% or 15% of them) can be found taking some extra efforts to learn some extra skills from the outside of our pathetic university system. Learning CAD/CAM/CAE software by attending private training institutes, has become a pretty wide-spread practice by now.

No, with these courses, they aren’t expected to become FEM/CFD experts, and they don’t. But at least they do learn to push buttons and put mouse-clicks in, say, ProE/SolidWorks or Ansys. They do learn to deal with conversions between different file formats. They do learn that meshes generated even in the best commercial software could sometimes be not of sufficiently high quality, or that importing mesh data into a different analysis program may render the mesh inconsistent and crash the analysis. Sometimes, they even come to master setting the various boundary condition options right—even if only in that particular version of that particular software. However, they wouldn’t be able to use a research level software like OpenFOAM on their own—and, frankly, it is not expected of them, not at their level, anyway.

They sometimes are also seen taking efforts on their own, in finding sponsorships for their BE projects (small-scale or big ones), sometimes even in good research institutions (like BARC). In fact, as far as the top quarter of the BE student projects (in the mechanical departments, in private engineering colleges) go, I often do get the definite sense that any lacunae coming up in these projects are not attributable so much to the students themselves as to the professors who guide these projects. The stories of a professor shooting down a good project idea proposed by a student simply because the professor himself wouldn’t have any clue of what’s going on, are neither unheard of nor entirely without merit.

So, yes, the overall trend even in the mechanical engineering stream is certainly dipping downwards, that’s for sure. Yet, the actual fall—its level—does not seem to be as bad as what is being reported about CS.

My two cents.


Today is India’s National Science Day. Greetings!


Will stay busy in moving and getting settled in the new job. … Don’t look for another post for another couple of weeks. … Take care, and bye for now.

[Finished doing minor editing touches on 28 Feb. 2017, 17:15 hrs.]

The goals are clear, now

This one blog post is actually a combo-pack of some 3 different posts, addressed to three different audiences: (i) to my general readers, (ii) to the engineering academics esp. in India, and (iii) to the QM experts. Let me cover it all in that order.


(I) To the general reader of this blog:

I have a couple of neat developments to report about.

I.1. First, and of immediate importance: I have received, and accepted, a job offer. Of course, the college is from a different university, not SPPU (Savitribai Phule Pune University). Just before attending this interview (in which I accepted the offer), I had also had discussions with the top management of another college, from yet another university (in another city). They too have, since then, confirmed that they are going to invite me once the dates for the upcoming UGC interviews at their college are finalized. I guess I will attend this second interview only if my approvals (the university and the AICTE approvals) for the job I have already accepted and will be joining soon, don’t go through, for whatever reason.

If you ask me, my own gut feel is that the approvals at both these universities should go through. Historically, neither of these two universities have ever had any issue with a mixed metallurgy-and-mechanical background, and especially after the new (mid-2014) GR by the Maharashtra State government (by now 2.5+ years old), the approval at these universities should be more or less only a formality, not a cause for excessive worry as such.

I told you, SPPU is the worst university in Maharashtra. And, Pune has become a real filthy, obnoxious place, speaking of its academic-intellectual atmosphere. I don’t know why the outside world still insists on calling both (the university and the city) great. I can only guess. And my guess is that brand values of institutions tend to have a long shelf life—and it would be an unrealistically longer shelf life, when the economy is mixed, not completely free. That is the broad reason. There is another, more immediate and practical reason to it, too—I mean, regarding how it all actually has come to work.

Most every engineer who graduates from SPPU these days goes into the IT field. They have been doing so for almost two decades by now. Now, in the IT field, the engineering knowledge as acquired at the college/university is hardly of any direct relevance. Hence, none cares for what academically goes on during those four years of the UG engineering—not in India, I mean—not even in IITs, speaking in comparison to what used to be the case some 3 decades ago. (For PG engineering, in most cases, the best of them go abroad or to IITs anyway.) By “none” I mean: first and foremost, the parents of the students; then the students themselves; and then, also the recruiting companies (by which, I mostly mean those from the IT field).

Now, once in the IT industry and thus making a lot of money, these people of course find it necessary to keep the brand value of “Pune University” intact. … Notice that the graduates of IITs and of COEP/VJTI etc. specifically mention their college on their LinkedIn profiles. But none from the other colleges in SPPU do. They always mention only “University of Pune”. The reason is, their colleges didn’t have as much of a brand value as did the university, when all this IT industry trend began. Now, if these SPPU-graduated engineers themselves begin to say that the university they attended was in fact bad (or had gone bad at least when they attended it), it will affect their own career growth, salaries and promotions. So, they never find it convenient to spell out the truth—who would do that? Now, the Pune education barons (not to mention the SPPU authorities) certainly are smart enough to simply latch on to this artificially inflated brand-value. The system works, even though the quality of engineering education as such has very definitely gone down. (In some respects, due to expansion of the engineering education market, the quality has actually gone up—even though my IIT/COEP classmates often find this part difficult to believe. But yes, there have been improvements too. The improvements pertain to such things as syllabii and systems (in the “ISO” sense of the term). But not to the actual delivery—not to the actually imparted education. And that‘s my point.)

When parents and recruiting companies themselves don’t care for the quality of education imparted within the four years of UG engineering, it is futile to expect that mere academicians, as a group, would do much to help the matters.

That’s why, though SPPU has become so bad, it still manages to keep its high reputation of the past—and all its current whimsies (e.g. such stupid issues as the Metallurgy-vs-Mechanical branch jumping, etc.)—completely intact.

Anyway, I am too small to fight the entire system. In any case, I was beyond the end of all my resources.

All in all, yes, I have accepted the job offer.

But despite the complaining/irritating tone that has slipped in the above write-up, I would be lying to you if I said that I was not enthusiastic about my new job. I am.

I.2. Second, and from the long-term viewpoint, the much more important development I have to report (to my general readers) is this.

I now realize that I have come to develop a conceptually consistent physical viewpoint for the maths of quantum mechanics.

(I won’t call it an “interpretation,” let alone a “philosophical interpretation.” I would call it a physics theory or a physical viewpoint.)

This work was in progress for almost a year and a half or more—since October 2015, if I go by my scribblings in the margins of my copy of Griffiths’ text-book. I still have to look-up the scribblings I made in the small pocket notebooks I maintain (more than 10 of them, I’ve finished already for QM alone). I also have yet to systematically gather and order all those other scribblings on the paper napkins I made in the restaurants. Yes, in may case, notings on the napkins is not just a metaphor; I have often actually done such notings, simply because sometimes I do forget to carry my pocket notebooks. At such times, these napkins (or those rough papers from the waiter’s order-pad), do come in handy. I have been storing them in a plastic bag, and a drawer. Once I look up all such notings systematically, I will be able to sequence the progression of my thoughts better. But yes, as a rough and ready estimate, thinking along this new line has been going on for some 1.5 years or more by now.

But it’s only recently, in December 2016 or January 2017, that I slowly grew fully confident that my new viewpoint is correct. I took about a month to verify the same, checking it from different angles, and this process still continues. … But, what the heck, let me be candid about it: the more I think about it, all that it does is to add more conceptual integrations to it. But the basic conceptual scheme, or framework, or the basic line of thought, stays the same. So, it’s it and that’s that.

Of course, detailed write-ups, (at least rough) calculations, and some (rough) simulations still have to be worked out, but I am working on them.

I have already written more than 30 pages in the main article (which I should now be converting into a multi-chapter book), and more than 50 pages in the auxiliary material (which I plan to insert in the main text, eventually).

Yes, I have implemented a source control system (SVN), and have been taking regular backups too, though I need to now implement a system of backups to two different external hard-disks.

But all this on-going process of writing will now get interrupted due to my move to the new job, in another city. My blogging too would get interrupted. So, please stay away from this blog for a while. I will try to resume both ASAP, but as of today, can’t tell when—may be a month or so.


(II) To the engineering academics among my readers, esp. the Indian academics:

I have changed my stance regarding publications. All along thus far, I had maintained that I will not publish anything in one of those “new” journals in which most every Indian engineering professor publishes these days.

However, I now realize that one of the points in the approvals (by universities, AICTE, UGC, NAAC, NBA, etc.) concerns journal papers. I have only one journal paper on my CV. Keeping the potential IPR issues in mind, all my other papers were written in only schematic way (the only exception is the diffusion paper), and for that reason, they were published only in the conference proceedings. (I had explicitly discussed this matter not just with my guide, but also with my entire PhD committee.) Of course, I made sure that all these were international conferences, pretty reputed ones, of pretty low acceptance rates (though these days the acceptance rates at these same conferences have gone significantly up (which, incidentally, should be a “good” piece of news to my new students)). But still, as a result, all but one of my papers have been only conference papers, not journal papers.

After suffering through UGC panel interviews at three different colleges (all in SPPU) I now realize that it’s futile to plead your case in front of them. They are insufferable in every sense; they stick to their guns. You can’t beat their sense of “quality,” as it were.

So, I have decided to follow their (I mean my UGC panel interviewers’) lead, and thus have now decided to publish at least three papers in such journals, right over the upcoming couple of months or so.

Forgive me if I report the same old things (which I had reported in those international conferences about a decade ago). I have been assured that conference papers are worthless and that no one reads them. Reporting the same things in journal papers should enhance, I guess, their readability. So, the investigations I report on will be the same, but now they will appear in the Microsoft Word format, and in international journals.

That’s another reason why my blogging will be sparser in the upcoming months.

That way, in the world of science and research, it has always been quite a generally accepted practice, all over the world, to first report your findings in conferences, seek your peers’ opinions on your work or your ideas, and then expand on (or correct on) the material/study, and then send it to journals. There is nothing wrong in it. Even the topmost physicists have followed precisely the same policy. … Why, come to think of it, the very first paper that ushered humanity into the quantum era itself was only a conference talk. In fact it was just a local conference, albeit in an advanced country. I mean Planck’s very first announcement regarding quantization. … So, it’s a perfectly acceptable practice.

The difference this time (I mean, in my, present, case) will be: I will contract on (and hopefully also dumb down) the contents of my conference papers, so as to match the level of the journals in which my UGC panel interviewers themselves publish.

No, the above was not a piece of sarcasm—at least I didn’t mean it, when I wrote it. I merely meant to highlight an objective fact. Given the typical length, font size, gaps in sections, and the overall treatment of the contents of these journals, I will have to both contract on and dumb down on my write-ups. … I will of course also add some new sentences here and there to escape the no-previous-publication clause, but believe me, in my case, that is a very minor worry. The important thing would be to match the level of the treatment, to use the Microsoft Word’s equation editor, and to cut down on the length. Those are my worries.

Another one of my worries is how to publish two journal papers—one good, and one bad—based on the same idea. I mean, suppose I want to publish something on the nature of the \delta of the calculus of variations, in one of these journals. … Incidentally, I do think that what I wrote on this idea right here on this blog a little ago, is worth publishing even in a good journal, say in Am. J. Phys., or at least in the Indian journal “Resonance.” So, I would like to eventually publish it one of these two journals, too. But for immediately enhancing the number of journal papers on my CV, I should immediately publish a shorter version of the same in one of these new international journals too, on an urgent basis. Now the question is: what all aspects I should withhold for now. That is my worry. That’s why, the way my current thinking goes, instead of publishing any new material (say on the \delta of CoV), I should instead simply recycle the already conference-published material.

One final point. Actually, I never did think that it was immoral to publish in such journals (I mean the ones in which my interviewers from SPPU publish). These journals do have ISSN, and they always are indexed in the Google Scholar (which is an acceptable indexing service even to NBA), and sometimes even in Scopus/PubMed etc. Personally, I had refrained from publishing in them not because I thought that it was immoral to do so, but rather because I thought it was plain stupid. I have been treating the invitations from such journals with a sense of humour all along.

But then, the way our system works, it does have the ways and the means to dumb down one and all. Including me. When my very career is at the stake, I will very easily and smoothly go along, toss away my sense of quality and propriety, and join the crowd. (But at least I will be open and forth-right about it—admitting it publicly, the way I have already done, here.)

So, that’s another reason why my blogging would be sparser over the upcoming few months, esp. this month and the next. I will be publishing in (those) journals, on a high priority.


(III) To the QM experts:

Now, a bit to QM experts. By “experts,” I mean those who have studied QM through university courses (or text-books, as in my case) to PG or PhD level. I mean, the QM as it is taught at the UG level, i.e., the non-relativistic version of it.

If you are curious about the exact nature of my ideas, well, you will have to be patient. Months, perhaps even a year, it’s going to take, before I come to write about it on my blog(s). It will take time. I have been engaged in writing about it for about a month by now, and I speak from this experience. And further, the matter of having to immediately publish journal papers in engineering will also interfere the task of writing.

However, if you are an academic in India (say a professor or even just a serious and curious PhD student of physics/chemistry/engg physics program, say at an IIT/IISc/IISER/similar) and are curious to know about my ideas… Well, just give me a call and let’s decide on a mutually convenient time to meet in person. Ditto, for academics/serious students of physics from abroad visiting India.

No, I don’t at all expect any academics in (or visiting) India to be that curious about my work. But still, theoretically speaking, assuming that someone is interested: just send me an email or call me to fix an appointment, and we will discuss my ideas, in person. We will work out at the black-board (better than working on paper, in my experience).

I am not at all hung up about maintaining secrecy until publication. It’s just that writing takes time.

One part of it is that when you write, people also expect a higher level of precision from you, and ensuring that takes time. Making general but precise statements or claims, on a most fundamental topic of physics—it’s QM itself—is difficult, very difficult. Talking to experts is, in contrast, easy—provided you know what you are talking about.

In a direct personal talk, there is a lot of room for going back and forth, jumping around the topics, hand-waving, which is not available in the mode of writing-by-one-then-reading-by-another. And, talking with experts would be easier for me because they already know the context. That’s why I specified PhD physicists/professors at this stage, and not, say, students of engineering or CS folks merely enthusiastic about QM. (Coming to humanity folks, say philosophers, I think that via this work, I have nothing—or next to nothing—to offer to their specialty.)

Personally, I am not comfortable with video-conferencing, though if the person in question is a serious academic or a reputed corporate/national lab researcher, I would sure give it a thought to it. For instance, if some professor from US/UK that I had already interacted with (say at iMechanica, or at his blog, or via emails) wants to now know about my new ideas and wants a discussion via Skype, I could perhaps go in for it—even though I would not be quite comfortable with the video-conferencing mode as such. The direct, in person talk, working together at the black-board, works best for me. I don’t find Skype comfortable enough even with my own class-mates or close personal relations. It just doesn’t work by me. So, try to keep it out.

For the same reason—the planning and the precision required in writing—I would mostly not be able to even blog about my new ideas. Interactions on blogs tends to introduce too many bifurcations in the discussion, and therefore, even though the different PoV could be valuable, such interactions should be introduced only after the first cut in the writing is already over. That’s why, the most I would be able to manage on this blog would be some isolated aspects—granted that some inconsistencies or contradictions could still easily slip in. I am not sure, but I will try to cover at least some isolated aspects from time to time.

Here’s an instance. (Let me remind you: I am addressing this part to those who have already studied QM through text-books, esp. to PhD physicists. I am not only referring to equations, but more importantly, I am assuming the context of a direct knowledge of how topics like the one below are generally treated in various books and references.)

Did you ever notice just how radical was de Broglie’s idea? I mean, for the electron, the equations de Broglie used were:

E = \hbar \nu and p = \hbar k.

Routine stuff, do you say? But notice, in the special relativity, i.e. in the classical electrodynamics, the equation for the energy of a massive particle is:
E^2 = (pc)^2 + (m_0 c^2)^2

In arriving at the relation p = \hbar k, Einstein had dropped the second term (m_0^2 c^4) from the expression for energy because radiation has no mass, and so, his hypothetical particles also would carry no mass.

When de Broglie assumed that this same expression holds also for the electron—its matter waves—what he basically was doing was: to take an expression derived for a massless particle (Einstein’s quantum of light) as is, and to assume that it would apply also for the massive particle (i.e. the electron).

In effect, what de Broglie had ended up asserting was that the matter-waves of the electron had a massless nature.

Got it? See how radical—and how subtly (indirectly, implicitly) slipped in—is that suggestion? Have you seen this aspect highlighted or discussed this way in a good university course or a text-book on modern physics or QM? …

…QM is subtle, very subtle. That’s why working out a conceptually consistent scheme for it is (and has been) such a fun.

The above observation was one of my clues in working out my new scheme. The other was the presence of the classical features in QM. Not only the pop-science books but also text-books on modern physics (and QM) had led me to believe that what the QM represented was completely radical break from the classical physic. Uh-oh. Not quite.

Radical ideas, QM does have. But completely radical? Not quite.

QM, actually, is hybrid. It does have a lot of classical elements built into it, right in its postulates. I had come to notice this part and was uncomfortable with it—I didn’t have the confidence in my own observation; I used to think that when I study more of QM, I would be shown how these classical features fall away. That part never happened, not even as my further studies of QM progressed, and so, I slowly became more confident about it. QM is hybrid, full stop. It does have classical features built right in its postulates, even in its maths. It does not represent a complete break from the classical physics—not as complete a break as physicists lead you to believe. That was my major clue.

Other clues came as my grasp of the nature of the QM maths became better and firmer, which occurred over a period of time. I mean the nature of the maths of: the Fourier theory, the variational calculus, the operator theory, and the higher-dimensional spaces.

I had come to understand the Fourier theory via my research on diffusion, and the variational calculus, via my studies (and teaching!) of FEM. The operator theory, I had come to suspect (simply comparing the way people used to write in the early days of QM, and the way they now write) was not essential to the physics of the QM theory. So I had begun mentally substituting the operators acting on the wavefunction by just a modified wavefunction itself. … Hell, do you express a classical problem—say a Poisson equation problem or a Navier-Stokes problem—via operators? These days people do, but, thankfully, the trend has not yet made it to the UG text-books to a significant extent. The whole idea of the operator theory is irrelevant to physics—its only use and relevance is in maths. … Soon enough, I then realized that the wavefunction itself is a curious construct. It’s pointless debating whether the wavefunction is ontic or epistemic, primarily because the damn thing is dimensionless. Physicists always take care to highlight the fact that its evolution is unitary, but what they never tell you, never ever highlight, is the fact that the damn thing has no dimensions. Qua a dimensionless quantity, it is merely a way of organizing some other quantities that do have a physical existence. As to its unitary evolution, well, all that this idea says is that it is merely a weighting function, so to speak. But it was while teaching thermodynamics (in Mumbai in 2014 and in Pune in 2015) that I finally connected the variational principles with the operator theory, the thermodynamic system with the quantum system, and this way then got my breakthroughs (or at least my clues).

Yet another clue was the appreciation of the fact that the world is remarkably stable. When you throw a ball, it goes through the space as a single object. The part of the huge Hilbert space of the entire universe which represents the ball—all the quantum particles in it—somehow does not come to occupy a bigger part of that space. Their relations to each other somehow stay stable. That was another clue.

As to the higher-dimensional function spaces, again, my climb was slow but steady. I had begun writing my series of posts on the idea of space. It helped. Then I worked through higher-dimensional space. A rough-and-ready version of my understanding was done right on this blog. It was then that my inchoate suspicions about the nature of the Hilbert space finally began to fall in place. There is an entrenched view, viz., that the wavefunction is a “vector” that “lives” only in a higher-dimensional abstract space, and that the existence of the tensor product over the higher-dimensional space makes it in principle impossible to visualize the wavefunction for a multi-particle quantum system, which means, any quantum system which is more complex than the hydrogen atom (i.e. a single electron). Schrodinger didn’t introduce this idea, but when Lorentz pointed out that a higher-dimensional space was implied by Schrodinger’s procedure, Schrodinger first felt frustrated, and later on, in any case, he was unable to overcome this objection. And so, this part got entrenched—and became a part of the mathematicians’ myths of QM. As my own grasp of this part of the maths became better (and it was engineers’ writings on linear algebra that helped me improve my grasp, not physicists’ or mathematicians’ (which I did attempt valiantly, and which didn’t help at all)) I got my further clues. For a clue, see my post on the CoV; I do mention, first, the Cartesian product, and then, a tensor product, in it.

Another clue was a better understanding of the nonlinear vs. linear distinction in maths. It too happened slowly.

As to others’ writings, the most helpful clue came from the “anti-photon” paper by (the Nobel laureate) W. E. Lamb. Among the bloggers, I found some of the write-ups by Lubos Motl to be really helpful; also a few by Schlafly. Discussions on Scott Aaronson’s blog were useful to check out the different perspectives on the quantum problems.

The most stubborn problem for me perhaps was the measurement problem, i.e. the collapse postulate. But to say anything more about it right away would be premature—it would too premature, in fact. I want to do it right—even though I will surely follow the adage that a completed document is better than a perfect document. Perfection may get achieved only on collapse, but I happily don’t carry the notion that a good treatment on the collapse postulate has to be preceded by a collapse.

Though the conceptual framework I now have in mind is new, once it is published, it would not be found, I think, to be very radically new—not by the working physicists or the QM experts themselves anyway. …

.. I mean, personally speaking, when I for the first time thought of this new way of thinking about the QM maths, it was radically new (and radically clarifying) to me. (As I said, it happened slowly, over a period of time, starting, may be, from second half of 2015 or so if not earlier).

But since then, through my regular searches on the ‘net, I have found that other people have been suggesting somewhat similar ideas for quite some time, though they have been, IMO, not as fully consistent as they could have been. For example, see Philip Wallace[^]’s work (which I came across only recently, right this month). Or, see Martin Ligare[^]’s papers (which I ran into just last month, on the evening of 25th January, to be precise). … Very close to my ideas, but not quite the same. And, not as conceptually comprehensive, if that’s the right word to use for it.

My tentative plan as of now is to first finish writing the document (already 30+ pages, as I mentioned above in the first section). This document is in the nature of a conceptual road-map, or a position/research-program paper. Call it a white-paper sort of a document, say. I want to finish it first. Simultaneously, I will also try to do some simulations or so, and only then go for writing papers for (good) journals. … Sharing of ideas on this blog wouldn’t have to wait until the papers though; it could begin much earlier than that, in fact as soon as the position paper is done, which should be after a few months—say by June-July at the earliest. I will try to keep this position paper as brief as possible, say under 100 pages.

Let’s see how it all goes. I will keep you updated. But yes, the goals are clear now.


I wrote this lengthy a post (almost 5000 words) because I did want to get all these things from my mind and on to the blog. But since in the immediate future I would be busy in organizing for the move (right from hunting for a house/flat to rent, to deciding on what all stuff to leave in Pune for the time being and what all to take with me), to the actual move (the actual packing, moving, and unpacking etc.), I wouldn’t get the time to blog over the next 2–3 weeks, may be until it’s March already. Realizing it, I decided to just gather all this material, which is worth 3 posts, and to dump it all together in this single post. So, there.


Bye for now.


[As usual, a minor revision or two may be done later.]

Miscellaneous: books to read, a new QM journal, the imposter syndrome, the US presidential elections

While my mood of not wanting to do anything in particular still continues (and also, there is no word yet on the job-related matters, including on whether I might qualify as a Professor of Mechanical Engineering in SPPU or not), there are a few quick things that I may as well note.

Updates on 17th, 18th and 22nd Nov. 2016: See my English translation[s] of the song, at the end of the post.


Books to Read:

First, the books to read. Here are a few books on my to-read list:

  1. Sean Carroll, “The Big Picture” [^]. I have been browsing through Sean’s blog-posts since before the time the book was published, and so have grown curious. I don’t have the money to buy it, right now, but once I get the next job, I sure plan to buy it. Here is the review in NY Times [^]. And, here is a latest review, written by a software engineer (whose link appeared in Sean’s twitter feed (I don’t myself use my Twitter account, but sometimes do check out the feeds of others via browser))[^]. Judging from his posts, I do know that Sean writes really well, and I would certainly want to check out this book, eventually.
  2. Roger Penrose, “Fashion, Faith, and Fantasy in the New Physics of the Universe,” [^]. This is the latest offering by Penrose. Sometimes I simply type “quantum physics” in Google, and then, in the search results, I switch the tab over to “news.” I came to know of this book via this route, last week, when I ran into this review [^].
  3. Roger Schlafly, “How Einstein Ruined Physics: Motion, Symmetry and Revolution in Science,” [^]. Here is a review [^], though my curiosity about the book rests not on the review but on two things: (i) what I had thought of Einstein myself, as far back as in early 1990s, while at UAB (hint: Schlafly’s thesis wouldn’t be out of bounds for me), and (ii) my reading the available portions of the book at Google Books. …This book has been on my “to-read” list for quite some time, but somehow it keeps slipping off. … Anyway, to be read, soon after I land a job…

A New QM Journal:

A new journal has arrived on the QM scene: [^]. Once again, I got to know of it through the “news” tab in a Google search on “quantum physics”, when I took this link [^].

It’s an arXiv-overlay journal. What it means is that first you submit your paper to arXiv. … As you know, getting something published at arXiv carries a pretty low bar (though it is not zero, and there have been some inconsistencies rarely reported about improper rejections even at arXiv). It’s good to bring your work to the notice of your peers, but it carries no value in your academic/research publications record, because arXiv is not a proper journal as such. … Now, if your work is good, you want to keep it open-access, but you don’t want to pay for keeping it open-access, and, at the same time, you also want to have the credentials of a proper journal publication to your credit, you have a solution, in the form of this arXiv-overlay journal. You send the link to your arXiv-published paper to them. If their editorial board finds it fitting the standards and purpose of their journal, they will include it.

The concept originated, I guess, with Timothy Gowers [^] and others’ efforts, when they started a maths journal called “Discrete Analysis.” At least I do remember reading about it last year [^]. Here is Gowers’ recent blog post reflecting on the success of this arXiv-overlay journal [^]. Here is what Nature had to report about the movement a few months ago [^].

How I wish there were an arXiv for engineering sciences too.

Especially in India, there has been a proliferation of bad journals: very poor quality, but they carry an ISSN, and they are accepted as journals in the Indian academia. I don’t have to take names; just check out the record of most any engineering professor from outside the IISc/IIT system, and you will immediately come to know what I mean.

At the same time, for graduate students, especially for the good PhD students who happen to lie outside the IIT system (there are quite a few such people), and for that matter even for MTech students in IITs, finding a good publication venue sometimes is difficult. Journal publications take time—1 or 2 years is common. Despite its size, population, or GDP, India hardly has any good journals being published from here. At the same time, India has a very large, sophisticated, IT industry.

Could this idea—arXiv-overlay journal—be carried into engineering space and in India? Could the Indian IT industry help in some ways—not just technical assistance in creating and maintaining the infrastructure, but also by way of financial assistance to do that?

We know the answer already in advance. But what the hell! What is the harm in at least mentioning it on a blog?


Just an Aside (re. QM): I spent some time noting down, on my mental scratch-pad, how QM should be presented, and in doing so, ended up with some rough outlines of  a new way to do so. I will write about it once I regain enough levels of enthusiasm.


The Imposter Syndrome:

It seems to have become fashionable to talk of the imposter syndrome [^]. The first time I read the term was while going through Prof. Abinandanan’s “nanopolitan” blog [^]. Turns out that it’s a pretty widely discussed topic [^], with one write-up even offering the great insight that “true imposters don’t suffer imposter syndrome” [^]. … I had smelled, albeit mildly, something like a leftist variety of a dead rat here… Anyway, at least writing about the phenomenon does seem to be prevalent among science-writers; here is a latest (H/T Sean Carroll’s feed) [^]…

Anyway, for the record: No, I have not ever suffered from the imposter syndrome, not even once in my life, nor do I expect to do so in future.

I don’t think the matter is big enough for me to spend any significant time analyzing it, but if you must (or if you somehow do end up analyzing it, for whatever reasons), here is a hint: In your work, include the concept of “standards,” and ask yourself just one question: does the author rest his standards in reason and reality, or does he do so in some people—which, in case of the imposter syndrome, would be: the other people.

Exercise: What (all) would stand opposite in meaning to the imposter syndrome? Do you agree with the suggestion here [^]?


The US Presidential Elections: Why are they so “big”? should they be?

Recently, I made a comment at Prof. Scott Aaronson’s blog, and at that time, I had thought that I would move it here as a separate post in its own right. However, I don’t think I have the energy right now, and once it returns, I am not sure if it will not get lost in the big stack of things to do. Anyway, here is the link [^]. … As I said, I am not interested much—if at all—in the US politics, but the question I dealt with was definitely a general one.


Overall, though, my mood of boredom continues… Yaawwwnnnn….


A Song I Like:

(Hindi) “seene mein jalan…”
Lyrics: Shahryar
Music: Jaidev
Singer: Suresh Wadkar

[Pune today is comparable to the Bombay of 1979 1978—but manages to stay less magnificent.]


Update on 2016.11.17: English translation of the song:

For my English blog-readers: A pretty good translation of the lyrics is available at Atul’s site; it is done by one Sudhir; see here [^]. This translation is much better than the English sub-titles appearing in this YouTube video [^] which comes as the first result when you google for this song. …

I am not completely happy with Sudhir’s translation (on Atul’s site) either, though it is pretty good. At a couple of places or so, it gives a slightly different shade of meaning than what the original Urdu words convey.

For instance, in the first stanza, instead of

“Just for that there is a heart inside,
one searches a pretext to be alive,”

it should be something like:

“just because there is a heart,
someone searches (i.e., people search) for an excuse which can justify its beating”

Similarly, in the second stanza,  instead of:

“what is this new intensity of loneliness, my friend?”,

a more accurate translation would be:

“what kind of a station in the journey of loneliness is this, my friends?”.

The Urdu word “manzil” means: parts of the Koran, and then, it has also come to mean: a stage in a journey, a station, a destination, or even a floor in a multi-storied building. But in no case does it mean intensity, as such. The underlying thought here is something like this: “loneliness is OK, but look, what kind of a lonely place it is that I have ended up in, my friends!” And the word for “friend” appears in the plural, not the singular. The song is one of a silent/quiet reflection; it is addressed to everyone in general and none in particular.

… Just a few things like that, but yes, speaking overall, Sudhir’s translation certainly is pretty good. Much better than what I could have done purely on my own, and in any case, it is strongly recommended. … The lyrics are an indispensable part of the soul of this song—in fact, the song is so damn well-integrated, all its elements are! So, do make sure to see Sudhir’s translation, too.


Update on 2016.11.18: My own English translation:

I have managed to complete my English translation of the above song. Let me share it with you. I benefitted a great deal from Sudhir’s translation and notes about the meanings of the words, mentioned in the note above, as well as further from “ek fankaar” [^]. My translation tries to closely follow not only the original words but also their sequence. To maintain continuity, the translation is given for the entire song as a piece.

First, the original Hindi/Urdu words:

seene mein jalan aankhon mein toofaan sa kyun hai
is shehar mein har shakhs pareshaan saa kyun hai

dil hai to dhadakne ka bahaanaa koi dhoondhe
patthar ki tarah behis-o-bejaan sa kyun hai

tanahaai ki ye kaun si manzil hai rafeeqon
ta-hadd-e-nazar ek bayaabaan saa kyon hai

kyaa koi nai baat nazar aati hai ham mein
aainaa hamen dekh ke hairaan sa kyon hai

Now, my English translation, with some punctuation added by me [and with further additions in the square brackets indicating either alternative words or my own interpolations]:

Why is there jealousy in the bosom; a tempest, as it were, in the eyes?
In this city, every person—why does it seem as if he were deeply troubled [or harassed]?

[It’s as if] Someone has a heart, so he might go on looking for an alibi [or a pretext] to justify [keeping it] beating
[But] A stone, as if it were that, why is it so numb and lifeless [in the first place]?

What kind of a station in the journey of the solitude is this, [my noble] friends?
Right to the end of the sight, why is there [nothing but] a sort of a total desolation?

Is there something new that has become visible about me?
The mirror, looking at me, why does it seem so bewildered [or perplexed]?

Update on 22nd Nov. 2016: OK, just one two more iterations I must have; just a slight change in the second [and the first [, and the third]] couplet[s]. (Even if further improvements would may be possible, I am now going to stop my iterations right here.):

Why is there jealousy in the bosom; a tempest, as it were, in the eyes?
In this city, every silhouette [of a person]—why does it seem as if he were deeply troubled [or harassed]?

[It’s as if] A heart, one does have, and so, someone might go on looking for an alibi [or a pretext] to justify [keeping it] beating
[But] A stone, as if it were that, why is it so numb and lifeless [in the first place]?

What kind of a station in the journey of the solitude is this, [my noble] friends?
[That] Right to the end of the sight, why is there [nothing but] a sort of a total desolation?

Is there something new that has become visible about me?
The mirror, looking at me, why does it seem so bewildered [or perplexed]?

 


[E&OE]

 

Monsoon—it’s officially here!

Yes, the monsoon has arrived! Even in the mainland peninsular India!

… Yes, even the government says so, now! [^].


The news was expected for quite some time, may be a week or so by now. … I have been tracking not just the IMD but also SkyMetWeather [^], and in fact, also the blogging by the latter’s CEO. Here is the latest from him [^].

As to the IMD, well, none at IMD blogs. … But still, you have to give them some credit. One would have thought that they would wait for Modi’s address to the joint session of the US Congress to get over before “notorizing” the arrival of the monsoon. … No, the quoted phrase is not mine; it comes from a blog post by Jatin Singh, the CEO of SkyMetWeather. [Sorry, can’t locate that post of his so readily; will insert the link later, if I get it.] That post by Singh had appeared about a week ago, and the author had rightly shown in it why and how the arrival of the Monsoon could be announced right back then—a week ago. … Anyway, apparently, in forming the subjective judgment of the objective criteria [once again, the characterization comes from Jatin Singh], the IMD, it seems, followed the rains more than the PM.

All the same, it’s a huge (and hugely welcome) a piece of news.

… If you are an American (or come from any advanced country) you just cannot in your entire lifetime imagine just what the phrase “Monsoon arrival” means to an Indian.


Yes, I am an Indian. Naturally, my memory (and/or attention-span) is short. Naturally, I’ve already forgotten how fast I had consumed my Internet data-pack limit last month (as was mentioned in my last post). The fact of the matter is, the data pack got renewed just a few days ago. And that’s all that matters to me, right now.

Naturally, I have watched quite a few satellite animation videos, and in fact also want to strongly recommend that you, too, go and watch them. Check out here [^] and here [^]. (As to the EuMetSat site, I have no idea why they have a blank atmosphere on 7th June until about 20:00 UTC.)

For the same reason—of being an Indian all the way to my core—I do not, and would never ever in my life, associate any of the following with the word “monsoon”:

  • Random interruptions in the electricity supply (in the cities where there at all is an electricity supply)
  • Overflowing gutters, drainages, nullahs and minor rivers in the cities; also the blocked roads, the broken down buses, the cancelled trains
  • News of people in the cities being evacuated, but only after a few have already drowned because of the “sudden” increase in the water levels in the areas down-stream of dams, because of a “sudden” and very heavy downpour, even though every one owns a cell phone these days, including those in the slums in the cities and the villages in the rural areas.
  • News of bus getting washed away in the floods in the rural areas because the driver thought that the waters overflowing on the low-lying bridge was not deep enough or fast enough
  • News of young, educated, sleek people from Mumbai and Pune (including those employed in the IT industry, including young women) drowning at Alibag or Murud or Ganapati Pule beach, despite the local people urging them again and again not to go swimming in the seas at a time they themselves don’t dare doing so, because the sea is so rough
  • News of young, educated, sleek people from Pune and Mumbai (including those employed in the IT industry, including young women) drowning at the Bushy dam at Lonavala, despite police yelling at them, using even loudspeakers, not to go and play in the rough waters
  • And, oh, yes, add the Bhandardara lake near Nasik too.  Also the waterfalls near Mahabaleshwar. …

Yes, you have to be an Indian to have this kind of a sense of “humour,” too.

… Yes, we Indians are like that only.

… If we weren’t, life would immediately become far too depressing for even us to handle.


But, any way, we the Indians really feel good when we see the kind of reception our PM receives abroad.

… All of us do. Including those of us in the S. F. Bay Area. (Including those who have become American citizens.) It’s one of those few, few things which makes our lives acquire some luminosity, some rich splashes of the rainbow hues, even if only temporarily. Life becomes interesting then. Magnificent. Majestic. We feel proud then. … We can. Yes, we can. We can feel proud. At such moments.

Our movie-makers know all about it, all too well—the feel good factor. Not just the Hindi cinema, but, now-a-days, also the Marathi cinema.

The Marathi cinema, too, has by now become technically rich. And sleek. As sleek as those young crowds who must flock to the Sinhgad fort on their super-macho motorbikes (or in their massive SUVs) on every week-end during the Monsoons, despite knowing very well in advance that all roads to and near Sinhgad would be overflowing with vehicles, resulting in 5+ hours of traffic jams.

Hey, every one needs to feel better, at  least once in a while, OK?

OK. So, let me, too, join them all, and share a recent Marathi movie song with you.


A Song I Like:

Regardless of what all I wrote above, I actually like this song.

About this song: There is something a bit strange about this song. … Sometimes, a song excels in only a few departments: great tune, great voice, great singing, great orchestration, great acting, great-looking actors, great location, great picturization, or just a great overall theme. Etc. This song is strange in the sense that it is good on many such counts—when the factors are taken individually. The thing is: There is no complete integration of these elements. That’s the strange part about this song… I mean to say, for example, that the words mention rains, but the picturization doesn’t show any. The words, phrases and even metaphors are authentic (even traditional) Marathi, but the orchestration is Western. Etc. And even then, even if a complete consistency is not there, the song, somehow, comes out good. That’s strange.

Anyway, it indeed is a good song. (It certainly is better integrated than the movie in which it appears.) And, yes, I like it.

[As you must have guessed by now, yes, for this time round, I do mean to refer not just the audio, but also to the video of this song. [Yes, I realized that I have the bandwidth to go watch it right now, and that’s all that mattered to me, right now. … Remember, I am an Indian?]]

Anyway, here is the song:

(Marathi) “kadhee too, rimjhim zaraNaari barasaat…”
Lyrics: Shrirang Godbole
Singer: Hrishikesh Ranade
Music: Avinash-Vishwajeet

[Perhaps a minor editing pass may be done 2–3 days later. [Done, right away.]  … My stint at the previous college got over in late-April, and so, these days, I am busy applying for jobs, attending interviews and all. … The research has taken a back-seat for the time being. Implication: I will be busy attending interviews or traveling in the near future, and so, it may be 2–3 days (perhaps 3–4 days) before I am able to come back and think of improving this blog post or check the comments queue here. … But then, probably, even minor editing isn’t required for this post anyway; so regard this version as more or less the final version. [Yes, that’s right. The editing is now done.] … Take care and bye for now.]

[E&OE]

 

From the horses’ mouths

My first choice for the title was: “From the Nobel Laureate’s Mouth”; I had spotted only the opinion piece by Professor David Gross in yesterday’s Indian Express [^]. Doing the ‘net search today for the URI link to provide here, I found that there also were three other Nobel laureates, also joined by one Fields Medalists. And they all were saying more or less the same thing [^].

… That way, coming from a Marathi-medium schooling background, I had always had a bit of suspicion for the phrase “from the horse’s mouth.” It seemed OK to use in the news reports when, say, a wrong-doer admits his wrong. But purely going by the usage, I could see that the phrase would also be used in the sense: “from the top-gun himself,” or “from the otherwise silent doer himself.” This guess turns out to be right [^]. Further, since there were as many as five “horses” here, the word to be used would have to be in the plural, and if you say it aloud: “From the horses’ mouths” [go ahead, say it aloud, sort of like:“horseses” mouth) it really sounds perfect (for something to be posted on the ‘net).

So, that’s how comes the title.

As to the horses’ thoughts… Ummm…

[But please, please, give me just a moment to get back to the title again, and congratulate me for not having chosen a title like: “From Dave Himself.” You see, Professor David Gross had visited COEP in 2013, and I might have been, you know, within 50 meters of where he was sitting. I mean, of all places, in the COEP campus! Right in the COEP campus!! [^]. Obviously, you must compliment me for my sense of restraint, of making understatements.]

OK. As to their thoughts… Umm….

I think these guys are being way too optimistic. Also naive.

Without substantial economic reforms, I see no possibility of the Indian Science in general undergoing any significant transformation yet again. And substantial economic reforms aren’t happening here any more. In fact, no one is even talking about it, any more. [Check out Arnab’s hours, or Sardesai’s, or Dutt’s, if you want to find out what they are talking about. [I don’t, because I know.]]

It was the 1991 that could propel, say a Mashelkar into prominence several years later, and help transform the 70+ CSIR labs from something like less than 100 patents a year, to thousands of them per year—all within a matter of a few years [less than a decade, to be sure]. If the same momentum were to be kept, the figure should have gone up to at least tens of thousands of patents by the CSIR labs alone—and with a substantial increase in the share of the international patents among them. Ditto, for the high-quality international journal papers.

Why didn’t any of it happen? Plain and clear. The momentum created by the economic liberalization of the early 1990s has been all but lost. Come on, face it, 1991 was twenty-five years ago.

To an anthropologist, 25 years is like an entire generation! More than enough of a time to lose any half-hearted momentum (which, despite the hysterical Indian press, the liberalization in the early 1990s was).

It’s been years that we entered the staleness 2.0 of the mixed economy 1.0. Even today, the situation continues “as is,” despite a change of regime in New Delhi. Yes, even under “Modiji.” [I am quoting Professor Gross—I mean the word.]

But, yes, the five gentlemen were also being realistic: Each one of them emphasized decades.

Decades of sustained efforts would have to go in, before the fruits could begin to be had. [But you know that decades isn’t a very long period—just recall what was happening to India’s economy some two decades ago—in the mid ’90s.]

Talking of how realistic they actually were being, Haroche even pointed out the lack of freedom in China [obvious to any one outside of California], and its presence in Europe [I don’t know about that] and in India [yeah, right!].

But anyway, it’s nice to hear something like this being highlighted after an Indian Science Congress, rather than, say, “vimaanshaastra.”

Both happened during “Modiji”’s tenure. So what is it that really accounts for the difference? I have no idea. (It can’t be a “pravaasi” whatever, to be sure; they would be too busy booking the next Olympics-size stadium.)

Whoever within the organizers of the Congress was responsible for the difference, compliments are due to him. (Hindi) “der se kiyaa lekin kuchh achhaa hi to kiyaa.”

In the meanwhile, bring out your non-programmable desk calculators and do some exercises: 0.8 \times \dots, 2.7 \times \dots, 4.4 \times \dots and 2.1 \times \dots. Oh well, you will have to refer to the ‘net.

OK then. Find out also the R&D spending by, say, (i) Baba Ramdev’s pharmaceutical industries, (ii) the top or most well-established five industrial groups in India (Reliance, Tatas, Mittals, whoever…), and (iii) the top three (or five) Indian IT firms. Compare them to those in the advanced countries. Let your comparisons be comparable: pharma to pharma; oil, steel and engineering (and salt!) to oil, steel and engineering (and salt!); IT to IT [engineering IT to engineering IT]; overall (GDP) to overall (GDP).

And, never forget that bit about freedom. Don’t just count the beans “spent” on research. Think also about whether it is the government spending or the private spending, and where the expenditure occurs (in private universities, private labs, independently run government labs, public universities in a country with a past of a private control, etc., or in the in-service-pensioner’s-paradises with something like “laboratory” in their titles).


But why didn’t the “horses” cite any specific statistics about how many Indian students go abroad for their graduate studies, and choose to permanently settle there—their trends?

Obvious: Nobel and Fields laureates (and in fact any visiting dignitaries to any country (and in fact any visitors to a foreign country)) generally tend to be more polite, and so tend to make understatements when it comes to criticism (of that host country). That’s why.


A Song I Like:

(Hindi) “kahin naa jaa…”
Music: R. D. Burman
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Singers: Kishore Kumar, Lata Mangeshkar

[E&OE]

The Maharashtra 2014 Elections

It’s not the Election Commissioner writing this post for you, but yours truly. Naturally, it’s not about all the elections in 2014, but just the assembly election in Maharashtra, this year.

No, don’t expect a selfie here. I have determined that the argument that Pictures Are Not Arguments applies here.

But of course, I could have posted my selfie, too. It’s just that doing so would have required Being Present in the Present Moment (of the Buddhist kind) [a skill so highly prized in California, USA, and Massachusetts, USA] to a far more extent that I could manage. As a matter of fact, it Just In Time deserted me: Babasaheb Purandare was there wanting to cast his vote, and the whole booth-managing authority made my old father and me (and a growing queue) wait for some 30 minutes. There were no OB vans, to be sure, but still, there were quite a few photographers clicking almost randomly here and there. Complete with the ritual of holding their cameras high above, even when there was not enough of crowd to interfere with their clicking. Holding the camera high seems to have become a second nature to them, it seems. In any case, I got enough irritated that I forgot to take a selfie—I just wanted to get done with my voting as quickly as possible.

Thus, once my turn came, I straight-away voted for Mr. Subhash Jagtap, knowing full well in advance (purely by common sense) that he would [sure] be defeated.

People can get rational at times, you know. … Even if, in the ostensible opinions of one of my fellow bloggers, Indians must have suddenly made a phase transition from being “retards” to “geniuses.” Except for in Maharashtra, my home state.

[I am happy that Maharashtra—probably his birth-place, and certainly the place of his early education—has chosen to cast their votes in such a way as to prolong his intellectual life.]

But the real reason behind putting up this blog update is something else.

Right on the day of that election, a slightly whimsical [though, I am sure, my detractors would want to call it “devilish”] thought crossed my mind, once I had had returned from the polling booth, and was cosy sipping a cup of a tea at home. The thought was decidedly Maharashtrian-ish [I don’t want to be the first one to mark the atmosphere with the sound: “Marathi.”]

Thinking in Marathi, I thought—since I had already pressed the button for the NCP candidate in my constituency despite knowing that he is going to lose—how I might want to arrange my thoughts upon his defeat.

And, thus, I thought of a common Marathi saying:

[Marathi] “ dukhkha, chaar-chaughaat vaaTal_, ki kami hot_, kinvaa sampat_ suddhaa.” [Sorrow, when you share it with four people, reduces, or even completely gets over.]

Since this has been a five-way election, and since only one in the five is going to “win,” simple [non-P-vs-NP] mathematics tells you that four in the five are going to lose. Four.

Since I have never fought an election to lose [the only one that I fought, ever, was in an educational campus, and I won it], I wouldn’t know how to deal with it. But looking at the current state of Maharashtra—or what the outside and inside forces have made out of it—and knowing where I myself [and the men I would vote for] stand in my estimation [I tend not to take any of us too seriously]—I thought that it would be particularly funny. Especially when applied to the usual arrogance of the people who would lose but who I would never have voted for.

In short, to tell the arrogance that:

[Marathi] “ dukhkha, chaar-chaughaat vaaTal_, ki sampat_.”

It really was just a fun thought.

* * * * *   * * * * *  * * * * *

As it so often happens, even if you know that your candidate is going to lose, you simply can’t believe it, until the results are here. [Not if you are like me.] You can crack jokes about it, but you still refuse, in a metaphysical kind of a way, to believe that such a circumstance is actually going to visit you—even if you have made every mental preparation for the same, anyway.

So, there.

I told you who I voted [though not why—may be, another blog post, another time].

All that I wanted to do today was to share this fun way of looking at it.

* * * * *   * * * * *  * * * * *

You know, Maharashtra has been churning through both disintegration and misintegration for quite some time. … I think I have a fairly good sense about it.

Let me share with you just one example, illustrating the kind of cultural down-swing the middle class in Pune has undergone.

(Marathi) “mhaataryaa, gaaDi chaalavataa yet naahi kaa tulaa!” [Rough English  translation: “Hey oldy [more like, hey you geyser], don’t you know how to drive your car?”]

That was the “decent” sort of a refrain which I heard being said to me, on the Law College Road in Pune. It came from a rather hefty 20-something fair Konkanastha Brahmin Marathi Middle Class look-alike female riding pillion on a motorbike in Pune, the city of my birth, college education, work etc., about 3 months ago. (It certainly happened this semester.)

Pune used to be one of the leading places where we were almost militaristic-ally raised up to revere the elders.

What happened was that she was being the raison de joie to her motorbike driver. [I honestly couldn’t see why.] He therefore was being manly, nay, super-manly in his driving, attempting to ride his bike—no, not with great speed, but exactly the opposite: with extraordinarily slow speed.

The youngsters in Pune these days can easily afford to buy huge bikes, but there is no way that they can also buy the riding sense. No biker in Pune these days drives while paying attention to the white strips separating the lanes.

Indeed, with her considerable weight acting as a ballast of sorts, this guy had only one choice: either stick to the driving rules, be considerate of the side-way traffic in the next lane, and if his lane gets crowded ahead, apply breaks once in a while.

But doing so would destroy his purring smoothness. These days, FYI, bikers in Pune don’t have to apply brakes to get the female pillion rider “accidentally” bump into their backs; the youngster females themselves hold them all too tight from the behind, on their own. So, the only objective, then, is to show off the occurrence of this physical configuration. And, what better way to do so if not by riding super-ultra-smoothly, without ever changing gears, and God forbid, without ever applying brakes?

Now, you may ask: If you are going to be a “smooth” rider of that kind, and if your lane gets crowded ahead, then, what do you do?

The solution invented by the Young etc. geniuses is simple: You take the entirety of that ballast which remains firmly stuck on to your back, and then smoothly cut in front of an ongoing car in the next lane. The car driver instinctively applies brakes, and the female can then just for a moment unfasten her bosom from his back is she so chooses, tilt her head, look at the car now receding due to its breaking, and throw a brief smile of superiority, only to once again resume the fastening of the bosom to the back in the same bit of that smooth physical action.

It happens.

The only difference was, the car to have to do the breaking this time round, happened to be mine. It happened just near where the Bhandarkar Institute road joins the Law College Road. I was visiting home in Pune, from Mumbai.

That one day, this kind of lane cutting got me irritated enough that I decided to do something equally nasty about it. As soon as I got my chance, I overtook him, and then, equally smoothly, started getting close to him. [I did give him a horn to make him aware of my intentions, and also checked that the rider had checked the position and the approach of my car.] I then continued administering the dose of his medicine on to him. I kept on driving “smoothly” ever nearer to him, effectively pushing him into his lane. [No, I didn’t shove him on to the footpath; I simply got him back into his lane.]

But this act on my part somehow got the aforementioned female angry. Angry enough to utter a few angry words at me. [The biker himself was cool at this time.] That made me both curious and, yes, I will admit it, a bit angry. So, I accelerated, pulled ahead, and once I found enough of a good clearing, I gave a proper left-signal, horn, and slowly pulled my car to the road-side, and then, took my driver-side window glass down. The biker and the female had, by then, already stopped besides me, too.

And, that’s when the aforementioned Twenty-Something Middle-Class Brahmin-some Female in Pune uttered the aforementioned words: “mhaataryaa, gaaDi chaalavataa yet naahi kaa tulaa!”

[Her vocabulary obviously was rather delimited, but her desire to express her emotions apparently was not, thereby taking her squarely outside of the means of expression available to her. Otherwise, she could have easily exhaled much worse words, too. Looking at me, that is. [Women, I am told, have a sixth-sense about the age of men.]]

I then tried to take a photograph of hers and her Nasik/Nagar-based Dhoom^n motorcycle-riding boyfriend, on my cell-phone. At this juncture, she continued her tirade in derogatory terms: “kaay photo kaadhatos kaa? ghe, kaadh.” [What, you want to take a photograph. Go ahead. Etc.] By this time, the looks of her motorcycle riding boy-friend [going by the Number Plate, his bike was from Nasik/Nagar] told me that worse could happen, in physical terms. [I was ready. [In that moment].] It’s just that something like a physical action didn’t actually happen.

I then told him sternly and quickly that I would be contacting the police, and asked the boy-friend to take down the number of my car, or take a snap, since I, on my side, anyway had taken a photo of his bike and him. That bit of information cooled him a bit. At least, he got cooled down enough that a physical action didn’t occur.

But it added fuel to the spirit of the Marathi Middle Class Female. She kept on fuming and cursing me even after we had respectively got back on to the road. Indeed she continued her occasional outburst [even if the boy-friend concentrated on driving] until we reached the Nal Stop, from where, I “knew” already, we would be parting our ways. And that’s precisely what happened: they took the right turn to go towards the Marathi Middle Class (BJP-supporting) locality of Kothrud.

Pune has changed.

And, of course, I don’t like this sort of a change. After all, as my “janma-bhoomi,” “karma-bhoomi,” and more: as my “PhD”–“bhoomi,” I am concerned with it. Especially since the earlier generation (and why, even people from our generation like Prof. Dr. Kajale) are not here.

If you think this was just one isolated instance, you would be wrong. They youngsters in Indian cities are entirely different these days. Whether you run into them on road, or in shopping mall, or even in college canteens. In my college canteen, for instance, they don’t think anything of stealing my chair even if they know that I had been eating there, that my meal is not over, and that the reason I got up was just to grab a bottle of water or so. The sense of civic decency would be too tall an order for this new BJP-supporting generation in the cities. Psycho-epistemologically speaking. I routinely find these youngsters unable to keep an awareness of their surroundings, even. Every day, in the college lounge or hall-ways, I get almost bumped into by our students at least 4 to 5 times. They just don’t know enough to know that they should be sensing other people’s presence. All that they know is to hurry and blindly dash into anything. Cutting queues is simply a natural by-product. And, this—Mumbai—was supposed to be a city of orderly people! [While in Pune these idiots vote for the BJP, in Mumbai, they vote for the Shiv Sena.]

Anyway,  now the election results are out, as far as the Pune youngsters go, I do imagine a lot of these “Young” “right-wing” people celebrating, in a vegetarian kind of a way the here-and-now Amit Shah + Narendra Modi electorial victory. They wouldn’t be having meat, but drinks would be OK, as far as my observations go. But then, the point is: they wouldn’t have to have drinks to display their usual sort of a behavior.

* * * * *   * * * * *   * * * * *

Dr. Atanu Dey [B.E. Nagpur, M.Tech. (C.S.) IIT Kanpur, Ph.D., Berkeley] should be willing to regard the development as uplifting of [at least the Young etc.] Indians from retardi-tude to geniuse-i-tude.

* * * * *   * * * * *   * * * * *

When I wrote the first version of this post yesterday, I wanted to make it brief. I actually had a bit of wine while writing the first version, and had said that will come back and rectify it a bit.

I have done that. But since in the process this post has become so big, I have removed the “Yo” part from it.

And, yes, I really drive my car better than the San Francisco Bay Area-Indian-supported-IT-Industry-rich-employees drive either their motorbikes, or their cars [some 10–20, even 30 times costlier than my old car], or their lives.

* * * * *   * * * * *   * * * * *

Fortunately, since no one has been allowed to build a flying car, I didn’t have to mention it, in my last section. Otherwise, these Young etc. people would have been given enough money by the the San Francisco Bay Area-Indian-supported-IT-Industry to be able to buy those, too.

* * * * *   * * * * *   * * * * *

A Song I like:

(Western, Popular, Instrumental) “Miss Marple’s Theme [original]” [And, what else did you expect, for this time round?]
Music and Orchestration: Ron Goodwin

[There might be typos or awkward constructs, but guess I will let them stay as they are; I won’t waste time editing this post any further. As you know, what with a heavy teaching load, I am too hard-pressed for time, these days.]

[E&OE]

 

I am in a superposition state of |being jobless> + |having a job>

Currently, I am in a superposition of the two basis states: |being jobless> and |with a job>.

Allow me to explain.

The first basis state should be self-explanatory to many of you. As many of you know, for the 1.5 years since December 2011, I had been going jobless. Even as of today, I still haven’t actually joined any job. So, there.

As to the second basis state: Well, I have been offered a job as a Professor in the Mechanical Engineering Department, at the Yadavrao Tasgaonkar Institute of Engineering and Technology, Karjat (YTIET, for short) [^]. So, I do have a job. Ergo, the existence of the second basis state.

But, why the superposition, you ask? Why not just the second state?

The thing is: Though I have the offer for this next job in hand, I haven’t actually joined it. The next semester starts in July, and that’s the time when I will get measured i.e. my state will actually collapse to that of |having a job> i.e. I will actually join the job and be placed on the official employee registers, be eligible for receiving a salary, etc.

Until that time, I will continue to remain in the state of this superposition of |being jobless> plus |having a job>.

Now, a bit about my new job.

YTIET is a relatively recent, self-financed engineering college, affiliated to the University of Mumbai. The institute offers UG programs in six branches, and PG (ME) programs in electronics and mechanical engineering (as of today, only in the machine design specialization). I will be teaching both the PG and UG students. The institute is located about 10 km from Karjat.

Karjat is a small town about 120 km away from Pune by road. Karjat is actually the last halt for the Mumbai commuter trains (informally called “local”s) plying on the SE railways side (i.e. on the Mumbai–Pune side). It is situated at the base of the famous Khandala “ghaat” (i.e. mountain-pass). Though the town is small, all trains (including the superfast ones) must take a brief halt at Karjat, because it’s here that the train engine is augmented with additional engines, to be able to climb the steep ghat. (I don’t know the reason why the trains going down the ghat also take a brief halt there!)

The Pune-Karjat daily commute for a job would not be totally impossible (a few km to the Pune train station from home + about 2.15 hours by train + 10 km further by bus), but it would be difficult enough for someone like me to avoid it. So, I plan to move to Karjat (or Panvel or so).

* * * * *

I had been jobless for 1.5 years because the University of Pune interprets the UGC/AICTE rules in a way that disallows the BE+MTech Metallurgy engineers from becoming professors of Mechanical engineering, even if they have a subsequent PhD in Mechanical Engineering.  [The University of Pune’s way of interpreting the UGC/AICTE rules also is the one that does not bar the BE+ME Electronics engineers from becoming Professors (and PhD guides) in the Computer Science and Engineering branch. [Yes, you got it right—the Dean of University of Pune himself has this background.]]

I got the job in the University of Mumbai because, in that university, the same rules are interpreted in a way that does not disallow metallurgical engineers from becoming professors of mechanical engineering. Not only are there well-known precedents (e.g. BTech, MTech and PhD all in Materials + Metallurgy from IIT Bombay), the University of Mumbai had also already gone ahead and come out with a detailed document that had clearly mentioned such guidelines. (In fact, as far as I know, none of the neighbouring universities—be it Mumbai, or Shivaji, or Solapur, or Marathwada—has this metallurgy-vs-mechanical branch jumping problem; only the University of Pune does.)

Another reason I went jobless for such a long time is that software companies in Pune either don’t do any real core work here, all of which is done at the parent companies’ offices abroad, or, if at all some such work is sent offshore here, then the local Indian idiots managers, in an attempt to save their, say, “basis,” keep all “senior” people like me, out, no matter how competent. In fact, it’s already more than a decade since the time that Infosys managers deliberately began recruiting only First Class graduates and keeping Distinction Class graduates out, in order to improve their “retention ratio.” (In this sense, the Pune s/w managers are not very different from the retired colonels of the Indian army of the sort I had discussed in one of my past posts. The morality of all such Indians is not different from that of those American JPBTIs who stole my writings at LinkedIn.)

Anyway, back to YTIET and all. … Once my mother passed away, it was no longer necessary for me to be near her in Pune, and so, the location now no longer was a constraint for me. So, I had began applying to the engineering colleges affiliated to the University of Mumbai, sometime in late March. I received quite a fair response from the very first college where I had applied. I in fact had an interview as early as in the first week of April, but they didn’t immediately release an appointment letter because theirs is a very new college—their very first UG batch has just finished only the first year and they of course don’t have any PG program—and so, they were not sure if it would be an optimal match for either of us. So, they kept the matter in abeyance for some more time. In the meanwhile, YTIET was one of the next group of colleges where I applied, and things went through fairly rapidly and smoothly here. Karjat also would be convenient for me from the viewpoint of keeping in touch with my friends and relatives from Pune.

* * * * *   * * * * *    * * * * * 


A Song I Like:

[Not sure if I have run this one before or not. Even if yes, I would like to rerun it. And, as a very rare exception, I also highly recommend the movie i.e. the visual part of this song. BTW, the location for this song is Khandaalaa ghaat at whose base is Karjat. Thus, all the sites in this song are barely within 10–25 kms from Karjat. Of course, the fact that it all looks so stunning only in the monsoons, is another story.]
(Hindi) “chhoTi si kahaani se, baarishon ke paani se…”
Singer: Aashaa Bhosale
Music: R. D. Burman
Lyrics: Gulzaar
[E&OE]

I am jobless

I am jobless.

In fact, as you know, I have been jobless for 10 months now. And, as you know, if you count the time near the end of my contract when I worked for CSCWorld but didn’t get paid, I have been out of a job for 11+ months now.

You know that.

And, you know that I am competent, a man of productive achievements, a man who continues working hard.

And, you also know that you haven’t tried anything to get me a job. And, you perhaps also might know that you might perhaps feel a bit good thing about it.

Things like that are possible.

At least they must be. Without the ability to carry contradictions, without the ability to carry at least some mild form of the hatred of the good for being the good, it wouldn’t be possible for men to:

  • dismissing my PhD studies application, because my first two degrees came from metallurgy, not from mechanical
  • dismissing my job application in the academia, because my first two degrees come from metallurgy, not mechanical
  • insisting on finding a mining engineering position for me, again and again, whenever the matter of giving me a value comes up, whether the value be the recognition at a discussion forum like iMechanica, or of suggesting (or seriously thinking of offering) a job to me
  • insisting on saying that out of some 10+ things mentioned in a job profile (e.g. the one at Autodesk), since I don’t have iOS/Android experience, I don’t fit for a software development manager’s job, thereby blanking out the fact that Brahmins with even lesser knowledge and lesser competence have coolly been accommodated in precisely the same company/similar companies.Here, I will let you estimate the number of weeks, not months, over which I will be able to master not just development on the iOS platform or only the Android development, but both. By mastering, I mean, enough to be able to manage the group having tech leads, senior developers, and developers, all of them having at least 1–2 years experience on those platforms anyway. And, they being Brahmins (whether of traditional kind or government kind (born into reserved categories)), it goes without saying that they all should be very, very, very smart. And, technically savyy. And, so, managing to get work out of them should be easier, right?

    Did I make some mistake somewhere?

Anyway, what I was talking about was this: Things like the above are not possible without men having some definite ability to carry contradictions within themselves. The evil must be a real possibility actually realized within their soul, for them to do things like the above.

So, what’s new, you ask? What’s so new about my joblessness?

LOL!

Go check out my LinkedIn profile tagline. Now it correctly identifies the state in which I have been for 10+ (or 11+) months by now: “jobless.”

That’s new.

Though, of course, I do daily try to get a job.

* * * * *    * * * * *    * * * * *

A Song I Like:

Excluding this section so long as I go jobless, is not a rule; it is, say, a whim. Just the way, not allowing me to get a job of the kind I would like to have, actually is a whim; it is not, say, a rule.

So, when I recently ran into a song I like, and somehow recalled it again yesterday, I decided to devote an entire blog post to it. Despite my joblessness. … However, then, as I began writing, the above writeup did result, and I didn’t feel like editing it out. So, let it remain as it is, and let me now turn to the song itself.

If you have ever been atrocited [a new word I just coined] by one of the finest pieces of Marathi/Hindi poetry, one of the ways to take the revenge is to attempt translating the same into English.

To ensure success in the intended endeavor, you should try to keep the translation as literal as possible, keeping the interpolations down to the basic minimum. To aid in your translation, you should also try to give some extra words in square brackets of editorial proportions, words which: (i) in general serve to specify the exact shade of the meaning, (ii) serve to bridge the grammatical structures of the two languages, or (iii) suggest a possible alternative meaning. In your translation, you should also repeat the lines that repeat in the original song.

Today, I shall yet again offer my small contribution towards this goal. (For my earlier attempt along the same lines, see here: [^].)

First, the credits: Gulzar, Lata, S. D. Burman (the original one), Salil Choudhary (the “inspired” copier i.e. the lifter (no doubt, he the favorite of socialists, communists, and everyone else on the left, including the IISc Bangalore and IIT professors)):

Now, the original Hindi song:

roj akeli aaye, roj akeli jaaye
chaand kaToraa liye, bhikhaaran raat
roj akeli aaye, roj bechaaree jaaye

motiyon jaise taare, aanchal mein hain saare
motiyon jaise taare, aanchal mein hain saare
haaye phir kyaa, maange bhikhaaran raat
roj akeli aaye, roj akeli jaaye
chaand kaToraa liye, bhikhaaran raat
roj akeli aaye, roj bechaaree jaaye

jogan jaisi laage, no soe naa jaage
jogan jaisi laage, no soe naa jaage
galli-galli mein, jaae bhikhaaran raat
roj akeli aaye, roj akeli jaaye
chaand kaToraa liye, bhikhaaran raat
roj akeli aaye, roj bechaaree jaaye

roj lagaaye pheraa, hai koee nanhaa saveraa
roj lagaaye pheraa, hai koee nanhaa saveraa
god mein bhar do, aayee bhikhaaran raat
roj akeli aaye, roj akeli jaaye
chaand kaToraa liye, bhikhaaran raat
roj akeli aaye, roj bechaaree jaaye

And, here is my nearest English translation:

daily alone [she] comes, daily alone [she] goes
taking the moon [as the begging] bowl, the beggerly woman [i.e. the] night
daily alone [she] comes, daily [the] helpless [one] goes

pearls-like stars, having them all in the lap
pearls-like stars, having them all in the lap
oh [or, alas!], then what [is it, that she] asks for, [this] night?
daily alone [she] comes, daily [she] alone goes
taking the moon [as the begging] bowl, the beggerly woman [i.e. the] night
daily alone [she] comes, daily [the] helpless [one] goes

seems like a woman of renunciation, doesn’t sleep nor gets up
seems like a woman of renunciation, doesn’t sleep nor gets up
in [every] lane and [by]lane, goes the beggerly woman [i.e. the] night
daily alone [she] comes, daily [she] alone goes
taking the moon [as the begging] bowl, the beggerly woman [i.e. the] night
daily alone [she] comes, daily [the] helpless [one] goes

daily takes the round, [as if asking:] is there a smallish [kid of a] morning?
daily takes the round, [as if asking:] is there a smallish [kid of a] morning?
“fill in [my] uterus [or in my stretched out arms] [that smallish kid of a morning],” [that’s what she] asks for, the beggerly woman [i.e. the] night
daily alone [she] comes, daily [she] alone goes
taking the moon [as the begging] bowl, the beggerly woman [i.e. the] night
daily alone [she] comes, daily [the] helpless [one] goes

[May be I should add a bit more, indicating the sort of layers of irony that this song has about it. May be. Some other time. Perhaps, even within a few days. Also, as usual, may be, I will come back and edit/streamline the writeup a bit.]

[E&OE]