Tuesday, 19 May 2009

Comfort in Discomfort

People find comfort in the most eccentric of habits. It's true and, if you are the kind of person that gets queasy at the meerest mention of a queasy-something, then I would advise you to look away, ideally about now-ish.

I once read of a woman who suffered from a compulsion that forced her to pluck hair out of her scalp and lick the root of her hair. Distrubing, I know, but she found comfort in that. And before you judge her, wait, because - there are a lot more weirdos out there that you can judge and give funny names to! I can source them to you and then you can judge and laugh!

Thing is, I'm not so sure I can be part of this judging and naming. You see, lately, I've had a fleeting sensation that my very self has been finding comfort in discomfort. As distrubing as it sounds to you, it can't be half as disturbing as it is to me, given that you're watching as an outsider, whilst I'm very much inside of me.

So it is a bit worrying. Thankfully, I'm at a prliminary stage so you wont find me plucking my own hair, sleeping on a bed of nails or that absolutely grotesque thing you are imagining! How dare you!

Getting to the poinnt now - since some readers think I take way too long to get to the point, specifically a certain LUDA - I have a nice cosy, warm king size bed that I could potentially sleep on. But I choose, and observe how I stress on choose, to sleep on the floor. So every night I lay out a few layers of bed sheets and a quilt and sleep on the ground.


Because I find comfort in discomfort.

There is a rationale behind this bit of quirk. I have this odd notion that if I sleep comfortably I will oversleep and oversleeping results in a wasted morning, un used sunshine and hazy memories. So in order to prevent the above mentioned I have to be uncomfortable when I sleep. If I sleep uncomfortably then surely I will wake up at the earliest possible opportunity with an unwasted day ahead of me, masses of un used sunshine, and with memories intact. And that makes the discomfort worth it.

There you go......I find comfort in discomfort.

Sunday, 10 May 2009

I Am Busy

Well yes, I am busy. So I don't have the time to guiltlessly engross myself in doing what I enjoy, for the fear of being found out. But, what I can indulge in, without being caught, is thinking. So I thought. And came up with this random thought.

You see, all these silly guys with suspicious bulges around their bellies that blow up in public places before you can even say, "Oh right, I know why that edgy, shifty eyed gentleman is a bit bulgy round the belly! It can't be lack of exercise because he looks pretty toned elsewhere, maybe its his clothes, they are a bit loose to be fair. Why do they fit funny? No wait, OMG- I THINK HE'S HIDING A BOMB IN THE...*&%*!", are a wee bit annoying.

Yes, I speak of Mr. Bomber, Suicide Bomber. Here's the solution. Now, obviously these guys get a kick out of explosions, maybe a childhood trauma thing, who knows? Sigmund Freud , maybe? Anyway my brother and I were talking about these queer lot and we came up with a great idea. See, brainstorming creates great ideas. Thats what we did.

So, what we need to do now is to invite them all to a networking session. They all think alike so they are sure to kick it off together. And since they all share a love for exploding, they can end the evening with a blast. Quite literally. Like a synchronised finale. I mean really, I cannot imagine a single person in the world who would enjoy such an event more than them! What's more, the evening would be so successful that it is sure to go down in histroy!

Random piece, I know. Maybe it's an examination side-effect. Okies, time to get back to Financial Engineering revision :(


Tuesday, 31 March 2009

Does double you trouble you?

I feel sorry for W. It's been mis-used, mis-represented, mis-treated and mis-understood. I pray this blog will do it the justice it deserves.

The biggest suffering for W was to be mistaken with V. And, yes, I admit, it is my people, my fellow Indians, that indulge, knowing or unknowingly, in traumatising W. Since we are naming and shaming, let’s add to the list of abusers: the continental Europeans (think Transylvania or Dracula saying “ I vaant to drink your blood.), and the early Latin speaking lot. It's unfair - so thank you LUDA, for this question.

Why is the letter 'W' called double U and not double 'V'?

I’d like to put the sole blame on the Indians or Transylvanians, but the truth is that they are not completely to blame. It’s the history of W itself that must be taken to court.

W has a history. A boring History. I know because read it. I would not recommend you reading it! Because I'm kind and generous, here's a summary:

At some point following the discovery of the wheel's roll-able properties and the two-stone-fire-miracle, when Latin was invented by some clever bearded and robed folk, the W sound was actually represented by U or V. Following this, with the coming of the Medieval Latin era, the W sound actually became the V sound. Weird, I know. But really, that’s how it happened!

Then people realised that they needed the W sound to say words like wind, water-melon and whey. So they started to represent the W sound with 'uu' to differentiate it from the W sound which had turned into the V sound! You follow?
In some scripts though, the W sound was still written as a double 'v', while other scripts adopted double 'u'. And that’s how it remains today.

Note: If the circumstances surrounding double you, trouble you, then I have some advice for you. It's simple, easy and will make you want to slap your forehead for not thinking it up yourself:

Just write your w's as uu and not vv.

Slapping your head yet?

Well so there you go, all you lot Who Wondered What Was With W, you have your answer! While I'm at it, I've pasted a remarkable story written by a chap only known to us as 'Anonymous'. Shame really. But good story, if you are willing excuse the weak plot.

Winnie and Walter
"Warm weather, Walter! Welcome warm weather! We were wishing winter would wane, weren't we?"

"We were well wearied with waiting," whispered Waiter wearily. Wan, white, woe-begone was Walter; wayward, wilful, worn with weakness, wasted, waxing weaker whenever winter's wild, withering winds were wailing. Wholly without waywardness was Winifred, Walter's wise, womanly watcher, who, with winsome, wooing way, was well-beloved.

"We won't wait, Walter; while weather's warm we'll wander where woodlands wave, won't we?"
Walter's wanton wretchedness wholly waned. "Why, Winnie, we'll walk where we went when we were with Willie; we'll weave wildflower wreaths, watch woodmen working; woodlice, worms wriggling; windmills whirling; watermills wheeling; we will win wild whortleberries, witness wheat winnowed."

Wisbeach woods were wild with wildflowers; warm, westerly winds whispered where willows were waving; wood-pigeons, wrens, woodpeckers were warbling wild woodnotes. IF YOU ARE REALLY BOTHERED TO READ THE REST OF IT, GET IN TOUCH!
I am still open to random questions, so ask away!!

Monday, 30 March 2009

The Big Idea

So when you run out of ideas and inspiration, find it in others! That is what I discovered last week. My big project now is to ask everyone I meet one simple question, “Ask me any random question - as random as your imagination can muster?" And I will find equally random answers!

When I got this idea I turned to the first person I saw. A person who was sat in front of the telly, sizing up a lone popcorn meditatively. It was my sister, watching something so boring that she found a popcorn a lot more interesting.

Yes, I did feel a little guilty pulling her out of her meditative frame of mind but sometimes things just have to be asked. Full stop. It had to be done. So I asked.

And she asked back. This post is therefore dedicated to the very first random question I got asked. As predictable as the question is likely to sound now that I have set the scene, I'll comply with tradition and start off with writing out the random question. Here it goes:

"If the corn field became too hot, would all the corn just pop pop pop?"

I asked my brother the pop-corn question to see how he would reply:

Me: If the corn field became too hot, would all the corn just pop pop pop?

Brother: Well, it has to be dry corn, so.....

Me: So it wouldn't?

Brother: No

It ended there.....Well, now I'd like to expand on that...

If it did pop on its own in the heat, can you imagine the horror of simultaneous popping that Native Americans, who first discovered that hot corn popped, felt was unleashed on them? So much so, that they came to the conclusion, as people do, that it was angry gods popping out of corn kernels. Excuse the blasphemy, and if you can't excuse it, target a certain Red Indian called the-one-that-unleashed-gods-fury or something!! Not me.

In case you are interested, the particular kind of corn that pops is unfortunately not named after the Native American, it has a predictably boring name - Zeya Mays Averta - not surprising!

Anyway, on to the main point - would it pop if it got hot?

Ok, here's the science. See, inside each little kernel, there's a little teeny weenie bit of water and when it gets hot enough, the water boils and turns into steam which is highly pressurised and has nowhere to go. The starch in the kernel expands and expands and expands to the point where the kernel finally explodes - voila, the corn pops. This can only happen at the boiling point of water that is 100 Celsius or 212 Fahrenheit.

Logically speaking then, if you went to a really hot place, with a good supply of water and shade for yourself, and planted in the corn seeds and stuck around for a few months, then at the end of it, if you were lucky (ignoring the nasty sun burn and tan), your hard work would pay off and the corn would begin to pop by itself.

And I am not making this up! Because it has happened before. In a legend.

There is a legend in Nebraska that in the "Year of the Striped Weather", at some point in the late 1800s, the sun was scorching hot, so so hot that the all the corn began to pop in the fields.

Ok, I would stop here, but I think it’s only fair that you hear the rest of the legend. It might sound unbelievable so the condition on which I'm pasting the below is that you MUST USE YOUR IMAGINATION!

Popcorn Balls
There is a Nebraska legend that the popcorn ball is actually a product of the Nebraska weather. It supposedly invented itself during the "Year of the Striped Weather" which came between the years of the "Big Rain" and the "Great Heat" where the weather was both hot and rainy. There was a mile strip of scorching sunshine and then a mile strip of rain. On one farm, there were both kinds of weather. The sun shone on this cornfield until the corn began to pop, while the rain washed the syrup out of the sugarcane. The field was on a hill and the cornfield was in a valley. They syrup flowed down the hill into the popped corn and rolled it into great balls with some of them hundreds of feet high and looked like big tennis balls at a distance. You never see any of them now because the grasshoppers ate them all up in one day on July 21, 1874.
- from American Eats, by Nelson Algren, published by University of Iowa Prewss, 1992

So finally, I think we can come to the conclusion that unless, technology advanced to the stage that we'd be farming on the sun, due to there being no place on the Earth as a result of population explosion which is not in the least unlikely, the corn wont pop in a hot field. Sorry Insha.


ps: if you want to ask me a random question - ask away!!

Sunday, 22 March 2009

Funny thing, inspiration!

Not two minutes ago did I say I needed inspiration - and now, two minutes later, I've got it!

I love the mysterious ways inspiration works in. Paolo Coelho, in his books, says taht if you want something really bad, the universe conspires to make it happen for you. We may call it just luck, chance or being at the right place at the right time - but who knows, perhaps the energies in this larger-than-life universe do conspire to make things work for us.

I've been thinkng about my blog, I even started writing half a dozen times but found that I couldnt string more than two or three sentences together. I have a dozen unfinshed entries lying abandoned and disheartened in my archive. Inspite of this, I never asked for inspiration. Now when I need an out let desperately and therefore needed inspiration to write deperately - here it is!

Obviously, this is not the real thing - I've got a plan and it will be rolled out soonish!


To my blog

I miss you!!!

I think about you all the time

I would never leave you like this

So I will be back :)

love love

I'm hating not writing anymore - I wish I could be inspired to write again.