Srinivasa Ramanujan

It was yet another nice day chatting with Premnath who was showing his school days stuff. As I came across his 10th standard mark sheet I noticed the distinction in his mark sheet. It was not his 10th standard marks but the distinction of his school - Town High School, Kumbakonam.

Ramanujan's work was mainly categorized in number theory and summation formulas. Ramanujan Conjecture is a complex formula involving Fourier coefficients of prime numbers. This was proved later after a decade. He has made 2500+ such formulations and theorems and the collection of which is still a research topic in many Universities. 'Ramanujan Journal', for example, actively focusses on his works. Also, 'The Man Who Knew Infinity: A Life of the Genius Ramanujan' by Robert Kanigel is one of largely pursued books all over the world.

Born on this day 118 years back, being a mediocre student and as a poor clerk to Fellow of Trinity and finally a Fellow of Royal Society (highest honor in science), his short life and plethora of his works was an inspiration to all.

"I remember once going to see [Ramanujan] when he was lying ill at Putney. I had ridden in taxi cab number 1729 and remarked that the number seemed to me rather a dull one, and that I hoped it was not an unfavorable omen. 'No,' he replied, 'it is a very interesting number; it is the smallest number expressible as the sum of two cubes in two different ways.'" -G.H. Hardy

story continued...

The moment I saw the storyline, my evil brain incited me to end with a grin... Profanity was the underlined theme for my continuation of the storyline by smitha, but for the sake of presumably 'good' continuation I strained my brain to write a proper one...

... contd from smitha,

He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.

He would preserve this ticket. When he would succeed, he would frame and hang it for all to see, as a reminder of the fact that greatness had humble origins, of the day when he set out to seize his destiny. His lips quivered with emotion as he carefully counted the money in his wallet, yet again. Four crisp hundreds and two crumpled fifties. At seventeen, it seemed like a fortune to him. He would carefully plan his expenses. He felt as energetic as the strong breeze that hit his face. He stumbled backward, as the wallet slipped from his hands.

Turag watched it fall, with the fingers of both his hands curled—one gripping the steel bar and the other gripping nothing but air. The wallet settled, the second time it touched the greased stones. It was diminishing in size and moving away from him like an open-mouthed balloon propelled by the gushing air. He knew, well enough, the events that would follow if he pulls the stop-chain. In fact it was a stop-chain that brought a wind of change in his life. Getting off from the thought-train that the stop-chain had evoked, he rushed towards it, with uncurled fingers.

"Don't do that." said a voice from behind him. The command in the voice, more than his curiosity, made him stop and turn around. The first thing he noticed was her eyes which also held the finality her voice seemed to convey. He was still staring deep into the depths of her beautiful eyes when he realized that he had been stopped. He closed his eyes for a second, shook his head to clear out the image -as if wiping the slate clean- and reopened them."I drop my wallet.", he said

Understanding his situation perfectly, she rose to pull the chain.

"Are you alright?" she asked him after the train started again, it was - rita - his cousin's friend. He was surprised that he will reach his destiny so easily and everything would be fine. But not before long he stopped gaping at his fortune the fate had its own game to play.

There was a heavy thud, and the compartment rolled upside down. Kid in one hand, rita struggled to remain fixed, but the latch holding her seat broke off.

Slowly rising from beneath the mound of debris, he searched for her, but it was too late. Tears flowing, he could feel blood rushing within himself. Silence prevailed. Out in the corner, there was a squeak, he turned around and saw the kid left stranded atop the pile of metal wreckage. He took her in his arms and started to walk. Towards life, towards hope, towards destiny...

this should be continued by moosh, boopa, smaraa, paramanand

But how come I ignore my initial thoughts and my evil grin on this storyline. The moment I looked at it, only one thought came to my mind, that is....

read it fully again, to have fun...

... contd from smitha,

He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.

He would preserve this ticket. When he would succeed, he would frame and hang it for all to see, as a reminder of the fact that greatness had humble origins, of the day when he set out to seize his destiny. His lips quivered with emotion as he carefully counted the money in his wallet, yet again. Four crisp hundreds and two crumpled fifties. At seventeen, it seemed like a fortune to him. He would carefully plan his expenses. He felt as energetic as the strong breeze that hit his face. He stumbled backward, as the wallet slipped from his hands.

Turag watched it fall, with the fingers of both his hands curled—one gripping the steel bar and the other gripping nothing but air. The wallet settled, the second time it touched the greased stones. It was diminishing in size and moving away from him like an open-mouthed balloon propelled by the gushing air. He knew, well enough, the events that would follow if he pulls the stop-chain. In fact it was a stop-chain that brought a wind of change in his life. Getting off from the thought-train that the stop-chain had evoked, he rushed towards it, with uncurled fingers.

"Don't do that." said a voice from behind him. The command in the voice, more than his curiosity, made him stop and turn around. The first thing he noticed was her eyes which also held the finality her voice seemed to convey. He was still staring deep into the depths of her beautiful eyes when he realized that he had been stopped. He closed his eyes for a second, shook his head to clear out the image -as if wiping the slate clean- and reopened them.

"I drop my wallet.", he said

Thud, Thud.

"Come off you moron, I am on tip of the hell" he woke up to the door banging outside. He realized he slept in the toilet. Eyes were heavy, head started to ache again, he slowly dressed himself, flushed and off he go.

But the thoughts kept ringing at the back of his head, "was I dreaming". The dream that kept him sleepless for several days. He had his wallet intact, and, holy god, he never had any cousin, thats Ok, but his grandfather died before he was born. What the hell was the dream about?

Then he remembered about the doctor. His fear rose like mercury in thermometer, inner self had sudden quiver, blood gushing, heart pumping like a engine piston of a heavy truck at high speed.

As scornful as a descendant of English royal-blood towards the hard-core tribe of nigeria, the doctor gave him money to buy medicine for his constipation. "You will fart in the city, if you are penniless" doctor shouted, exactly like his grandfather.

Also he remembered when he was rushing to finish off his unfinished business, this watchman, who was standing under a big board "PUBLIC TOILET", blurted out excitedly "Watch kid, I'll get you a WC at the central site".

Then he entered. Started with the heavenly whistle, this 34-minute journey proved both of them right.

"But what about the wallet I dropped"

"Holy ****"

to be continued by sunnath, smitha again, thaatha


(Everything below the dashed line above should be copied and pasted with every accepted tag)This is a Story Tree and is best nurtured as follows:
1. A blogger can add only 90-100 words (not more or less) at a time.
2. All previous snippets of 90-100 words need to be copied before the new set of 90-100 words are appended.
3. Each entire snippet should be linked to the respective author (and not just the first sentence or so)
4. Characters, scenes, etc. can be introduced by an author
5. Bizarre twists, sci-fi, fantasy sequences are best avoided.
6. A tag must be accepted within 7 days else the branch is a dead branch
7. After appending 90-100, the Story Tree can be passed on to at most 3 bloggers.
8. If more than 1 branch leads to a blogger, s/he is free to choose any one of them but cannot mix the snippets of the individual branches.
9. The Story Tree is best left to grow than concluded
10. Please attach the image of the Story Tree below with each accepted tag (the link address can be copied and used).

our rajasthan trip.

we planned for a jaipur-bharatpur-agra trip. But ended up only half a day tour in jaipur with quite good shopping. Trip to agra was amazing, it was almost night when we landed there and literally we were searching for taj mahal standing right in front of it.
Anyway, 15 hours of private talk with the future bill gates during the travel was quite insightful.

My cousins' concert

My cousins' concert

After a long time, I attended something called Carnatic Music concert, that too by my cousins (2nd and 4th from left). Let me confess onething that, unlike both of my parents, I am totally alien to this kind of music. As I was more comfortable with film instrumental songs, western classical, pops, rock or melodies for that matter, but carnatic music was something different, or puzzling quite frankly. But today it was different, I enjoyed it! I was totally immersed by the sync. with which those three violinists played. Perfectly spellbinding.

Sometimes it requires enough maturity & time to taste the essence of beauty in life.

Yet another quote on life.

I saw this one here.

i have lived nearly fifty years, and i have seen life as it is. pain, misery, hunger... cruelty beyond belief. i have heard the singing from taverns and the moans from bundles of filth on the streets. i have been a soldier and seen my comrades fall in battle... or die more slowly under the lash in africa. i have held them in my arms at the final moment. these were men who saw life as it is, yet they died despairing. no glory, no gallant last words... only their eyes filled with confusion, whimpering the question: "why?" i do not think they asked why they were dying, but why they had lived. when life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? perhaps to be too practical is madness. to surrender dreams - this may be madness. to seek treasure where there is only trash. too much sanity may be madness. and maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be.

don quixote de la mancha

Chidambarathil oru appasamy (Pre-release review)

Name says it all...

According to Tamil grammer, 'சிதம்பரத்தில் ஒரு அப்பாசாமி' is wrong. It should be 'சிதம்பரத்தில் ஓர் அப்பாசாமி'.

ஒரு cannot be used before உயிரெழுத்து, so it should be ஓர்.

Atlast, my twelve years of tamil study borne some fruit. uumph...

Cool Poem

This one I got through one of the forwards. Pretty cool uhh..

"This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital." - I dont know about this shit, but read on...

It was sent by a medical doctor
SLOW DANCE
Have you ever watched kids
On a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain
Slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Do you run through each day
On the fly?
When you ask How are you?
Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done
Do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
Running through your head?
You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Ever told your child,
We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
Not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die
Cause you never had time
To call and say,"Hi" <>You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day, It is like an unopened gift....
Thrown away.
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.

Nada Nada...

Never thought of posting again, until I slipped into bala's blog. Recent work by the group called Avial is quite commendable. Starting as a no-budget film (not low-budget film), these guys have everything to gain.

Guys, check out this "Nada Nada" by mallu rock band 'avial' (is it by any chance the same avial - mixture of vegetables?)
http://www.poormanproduction.com/musicvideos.htm

Here's an article in The Hindu...
http://www.hindu.com/thehindu/mp/2004/12/27/stories/2004122700030100.htm

el héroe

Carlos as usual kept his cool when he said "I think, I need to break one of my limbs to win this championship", on being asked how he's feeling about the finals next day after his semis victory in Chennai Open 2005.

A perfect display of tenacity could be seen on the night of Jan 9, 2005 when our King gracefully manipulated the Asian player in retaining the title yet another year. Experience coupled with mastery, the champ held the ball intact well within the other end of the court long enough for the opponent to end up in a mistake.

The curtains unveiled when Carlos was 2-0 down in the second set after losing the first set. It all began with a smashing forehand winner and he marched all the way to his second set victory. It was again 5-2 in the deciding set, Paradorn was serving for the championship. Now a backhand rocket from Carlos, for which paradorn looked helplessly as it shot through the base line of other end and through many hearts as well. Scads of rockets continued to splash around for the next four games in the same set which ended in a tie break which again was equally breath-taking. A Spanish feast. Such a slugfest will for sure be remembered for long or at least till Jan 3rd 2006.

His class, persistence and indomitable will to retain the Chennai Open title, only to lend the winning amount for the tsunami-relief is something I believe, regardless of the amount, it to be the best contribution in the world.