This may not be questions you might be asking your friends and cousins over the weekend. But hey, it’s not you, it is me! Sometimes when am too pleased with myself, or happy the way life is going. Or when I get undeserved adulation from my family, I go on this fact finding mission. What is the worst thing about me.. that others know! And perhaps I have forgotten.
In life, no one is perfect. For me as a Sikh, life is about continuous improvement in all aspects. This thing about pride or ego.. it is like a vicious circle. The moment you think you have let it go, you have just let it grip you again. A Sikh’s life has to be free of Kam, Krodh, Lobh, Moh and Ahankar. It is comprehensible when you are listening to the Katha in Gurudwara. But what happens once you step out?
Like many other dualities, a Sikh’s personality also suffers from duality of one being in Gurudwara and other outside. That is one another duality we have to take care of. If you think of Sikhi like ‘rules’, those ‘rules’ also transcend once you step outside the Guru-ghar. A Sikh is identified by his universal approach to everything, and yes; lack of two-face also helps!
I have been working with Scala for more than 4 years. Yet I am surprised at times to find elegant syntactic sugar like this:
scala> class C
defined class C
scala> class D extends C
defined class D
scala> 0 -> (new D:C)
res4: (Int, C) = (0,D@3c232051)
scala> 0 -> ((new D).asInstanceOf[C])
res5: (Int, C) = (0,D@1a531422)
This is another way of doing a typecast, a la Scala way!
As I climb up
Round and round
The steps crumble and fall
Without a sound
I go around the laughter
I go around the hill
Life is a journey
But the heart is always still
Then I open the door
Enter that familiar room
Oh that silence is peculiar
Ringing an echo too soon
So fades what has to
And stays what is truly defined
A world that is image of
What rules your heart and mind
Love is like the Pale
The finite in infinite
You may experience it anywhere
But just once you belong right
And gone are your doubts
Your fears and your anger
Let love make you again
The man of misery you harbor
Your promises are rusty
Porous is your resolve
Winds of time will blow away
The falsehoods of your thoughts
In two places, you can’t be
For love is now
And smitten foolishness, won’t take you away
No matter how
How badly have you wanted to get home, hit the bed and just sleep? How bad bad have you tried to just give up and take a nap? Is your dream world your ultimate escape zone? Then you may realize what I am talking about.
Isn’t that what sleep is about? To give your mind a break, to let your brain process the thoughts and memories; and rid you of your daily anxieties. Isn’t your dream world the claymation you love to mold at will.
What do you like to dream about? Me, personally I like to dream about nothing. Like standing in middle of nowhere surrounded by snow.. just snow. No roads, no buildings, no people, just a few trees.. and snow. Or I dream that am lying on a lawn, looking at the pale sun. Not just any lawn, something like the Dothraki Sea.
Yet when am about to wake up, I end up in a dungeon of my dream world. And some wild beast is chasing me (and does a pathetic job at that). Hell I don’t want no dreams. I don’t want anything. I just want to immerse myself in the shallows of sleep. And cut off from the reality I find so hard to keep.
Yet I will have to wake up, and accept the reality with a charm. And keep living like a benevolent soul who means no harm. Days will turn into nights, drowsy will be my eyes. I will again rest like a baby running out of sighs.
It is better to be asleep than to be awake, I say with surety. Rest enough I can’t like a man full of immaturity. Die die die o burning sun. Let me close my eyes for dreams are fun.
And don’t be upset if I don’t see you tonight, trust me I see no one there, does that make it right. Maybe I just love to be alone, to be left, to be undefined. When I lose myself, I am the only one to find.
The political views are really polarized nowadays. There is no flow of views and opinions about things that matter. It is about fringe ideas and veiled idealism. I will try to express my views mirroring the thoughts of someone with totally opposite viewpoint. I will try to fit into the shoes of a bhagat for the sickular in me. Yet I cannot. There is such a wall in between us.
Suppose you are trying to get DNA match for a court case. Would a 20% match do good? No? Then why are we only looking at a subset of things today. Why it is ok to lap up the tall promises of a leader without reminding (yourself) of their chronic criminality? Why do we support a political party whose existence is false and it is really just a front for a right wing fascist organization?
And why in politics do we have to label our fellow citizens when they don’t agree with the ‘majority’ (which is now approximating 31%)? So all your political pals are activists and your opponents are terrorists? Your identity can make you ineligible to discuss or propagate the ideas for your nation. Now that ‘our’ nation is just a group of islands, filled with people, their out of tune thoughts and boiling pots, our leaders can send us to hell.
Here are the 9 promises of Uncle Bob’s Programmer’s Oath, from his original 2015 blog post:
- I will not produce harmful code.
- The code that I produce will always be my best work. I will not knowingly allow code that is defective either in behavior or structure to accumulate.
- I will produce, with each release, a quick, sure, and repeatable proof that every element of the code works as it should.
- I will make frequent, small, releases so that I do not impede the progress of others.
- I will fearlessly and relentlessly improve my creations at every opportunity. I will never degrade them.
- I will do all that I can to keep the productivity of myself, and others, as high as possible. I will do nothing that decreases that productivity.
- I will continuously ensure that others can cover for me, and that I can cover for them.
- I will produce estimates that are honest both in magnitude and precision. I will not make promises without certainty.
- I will never stop learning and improving my craft.
As Bisman and Soohab slipped into a slumber, I stopped serenading them with my rendition of Channa Mereya. I got down on the wobbly sofa-bed mattress on the floor with Harpreet. And we stared at the ceiling.
I know it sounds cliched, but she asked me.. what are you thinking? I said I am imagining that there is no ceiling, but we are out in the open and looking at the stars. Instead of floor, we were on lying on the grass. Maybe it was the lawn near NSIT canteen. She laughed. And then without a warning, she fell asleep.
Truth be told, I wasn’t thinking about the stars. It was just the ceiling. When am aware of it, I look at its familiar pattern at the edges. I can see the marks where the cement was flattened out using a beam. The room has changed, yet it is the same ceiling I have been staring at since 23 years.
We have removed the chandelier like fan as it induced a fan-fall phobia in me. If that didn’t cure it completely, mom’s shifting of our bed totally against the wall helped. As I write, Bisman turned and rested her back against me. I noticed they look like salt-pepper shakers from behind. Lol.