The Bipolarity Paradox.

If one voluntarily chooses a life of manic depression, where the highs are extra high, and the lows are particularly low, citing the unnatural and overwhelming vividity of all human experience as the motivating factor, and the act of choosing that heightened quality of all emotion over plain old convenience as the guiding rational thought, the following catch-22 situation is fairly inevitable. The erratic behaviour that is a direct result of this disposition will eventually drive away all the people and things that make one happy. However, if it were not for this same disposition, those things would not make one happy enough to want them in the first place.  

Assay,

My problem is that I keep looking for reasons. I always keep asking "Why?". And then I ask "What if?". And then, "What not if?. "Is?", "Isn't?", "Was?", "Could be?", "Could have been?", "Could not have been?", "Can be?", "Can never be?", and so on. For everything that happens, (good, bad or anywhere in the between), for the things that people do or don't do, I keep scouting around, taking things apart, putting them back together in every single permutation and combination, looking for answers. Not just any answers, but good ones. Valid ones, rational ones, fair ones, and logical ones. Because I believe that the world it based on those things, or that at least, it should be. And that being fatalistic is yet another form of the mind's corruption. And that if one is more or less fair in one's own dealings and actions, he can have just the right and equal amount of it back. And that if one always has a justifiable reason for his actions, most actions made towards him must also be justifiable. But as it goes, there might not be a justifiable cause for everything. People are not always rational, logical, or fair, and constancy of purpose is so very rare a virtue, it is disconcerting. Living in a world where it is so unusual and inconvenient to not be frivolous with one's loyalties, is so taxing on everything I hold sacred. I just keep looking for the right answers, when there just might not be any. Because I want so desperately to believe that in the grand scheme of things, everything is fair. So I haunt my problems, instead of it being the other way around. All the world's worth of philosophy tells me that one must stick to their ideals and their premises. My own tells me that it is of paramount importance to place the truth, and the capacity to assess it, above all else. But it now seems to me that the only people who ever survive this life are the ones who learn to evolve. And not just evolve, but do it most rapidly, smoothly, and efficiently. I'm afraid that I've wandered off so far out in search of these answers, that I'm about to fall off the edge of this world that still remains so very square. And yet, there are still no answers to be found.  

Further Discourse on Happiness.

Reading through The Picture of Dorian Gray, I chanced upon a realization that had been toying with my head for years. Indeed, it is true that maleficence and the years corrupt the body. But is it also true that knowledge corrupts the mind?

Most of the happiest people I have ever known are also some of the most ignorant ones. Most of the intellectually gifted people I know are deeply troubled, in one way or the other. And it’s the existentialists that seem to be the most perturbed of the lot. Why is it that self-awareness (or any form of awareness at all) unleashes a nagging discontent upon those who may seek it? Most of us may live our lives in the pursuit of happiness, but to what end? If it is a state of mind, then do the aforementioned facts not point to the delusional nature of all human desires and their satisfaction? If yes, then the integrity of rationale and accurate perception is dearly compromised, and life is lived on a background tinted with contrition. If not, then the value of happiness itself is a grotesque overestimation. It is somewhere between these arguments that I hope to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I do, however, lean towards the latter.

I have always believed that happiness is an over-rated concept. When we have the entire spectrum of human emotions available to us, to paint our world in just one color would take a serious lack of imagination. Existence wouldn’t have much meaning, if we didn’t taste all the flavors it has to offer. Wrath, Despair, and Fear are just as crucial human experiences, if not more. After all, they are far more intense, and intensity begets exhilaration. If we were to miss out on that, then it would be a life only half-lived.

A Grave Concern.

All through the years spent living, breathing, observing and thinking, an individual creates a vast memory and knowledge warehouse of facts, figures, words, thoughts, inferences and deductions. I, like every other person with a similar disposition, treasure that figurative cerebral repository more than most things I have ever had the capability or fortune to possess. It falls to reason that if what we are is defined purely and in entirety by what we think, what we believe, and what we know, is it not a cause for concern that essentially, all it would take is amnesia to wipe out a person's existence?

Universally Speaking.

People never change. Ever.

Circumstances only cause them to highlight, sharpen, and play out certain aspects of their being more than the others, at different points in time. If you take to observing people closely enough, they'll never surprise you.

Life, on the other hand, is far more complex than that.

Of Yearning.

There exists no room for discontent if there remains nothing to hope for. Nothing to strive for, nothing to peg your faith on to, nothing to plan your days and wrap your dreams around. One might as well live deliberately, if there is left nothing to win or lose.

But then, maybe discontent isn't a bad thing after all.

The Idealist Grumbles...

Choose your personal favorite cup of poison.

Guess what free will is all about. 

Uhlmann's Razor.

When stupidity is a sufficient explanation, there is no need to have recourse to any other.


I was in complete and absolute awe when I first read that. I think I still am. There are things you know, and there are things you learn. But there's nothing quite as insurmountable as plain crude logic. It's like gravity. Deny it, refuse to believe in it, wear your ignorance like a crown... and it's still going to drop coconuts on your head.

Existential Crisis.

Disclaimer : This isn't really meant to be read. It just had to be written.

The angst wears off. It does, and then you're not sure what you're left with. Charred remains of uncertainty, perhaps. Some death-wishes, a little morphine. Torn bits of paper and cracked glass. Nothing shattered though. That would be grief. This is just an unsettling calm. Not placidity. More of the silence you're left with when something isn't there to fill up the space. It's void, it's vacuum. And it's half-silence. White noise. If you define your life in high contrast, it's the stark silhouettes that keep you sane. And now the lines fade away, and colors bleed into each other. Red for passion, green for envy, blue for melancholy, purple for all that is special. All tangled up. They've lost their identity, much like the feelings they represent. It's all a lumpy gray mass of floating debris. It's all a massive swirling vortex. Like ink-stained water down a drain. Every ripple is a meek protest. Decadence. Propriety. Providence. Words that fall into redundancy. It's like watching your world from a distance. On the outside, disconnected. Like one of those obscure art movies no one can figure out. You think to yourself that it's a tiresome storyline, poor narrative, and underpaid actors. The director seems to have quit a long time back. He just sits up there, with popcorn and beer, and sighs every now and then. One questions his existence. Or does away with questions altogether. What are they anyway? An isolated judgment call. How far does logic go? There's a yes, and there's a no. But there's also the maybe. Maybe doesn't count, you say? Doesn't fit into binary logic? Strange how most of existence is based on maybes. On possibilities. On trial and error and randomness and uncertainty and probability and permutations and combinations and odds and chaos and that which we do not know and that which we do not believe and that which we do not understand, in space that has no bounds, time that may bend and laws that we cannot define. We can actually, but we're not even close to doing it. We're not even at the tip of the iceberg. And thinking down to the level of electrons and protons renders everything so ridiculously abstract that we lose sight of what we were looking for in the first place. Because complexity becomes easier to deal with, and the bigger, magnified image is intimidating. We understand mitochondria better than people. And people change. They change and they grow apart. And they don't understand each other anymore. Friendship is traded for familiarity, and knowledge for faith. It's all a trade-off. The universe isn't based on faith. It's based on trade-offs. Society, organizations, religion, faith, relationships, self - everything being the result of an elaborate barter system, spread over cultures, people, places. Little, cataclysmic conjectures at every cornerstone. And what do we do with it? We get on with our lives. Standing with 6 billion other people in 5 different continents in one of the hundred and ninety-five countries on the third rock from the very average star near the relatively less-populated outer-edge of one of the several galaxies of an ever-expanding universe, we drag ourselves out of bed every morning, squint at the scraggly-looking thing in the mirror, and brush our teeth. And then we add another day to the story of our lives, without having any vague idea of our role in the turbulent cosmos. Of how every action really does have an often-overlooked reaction. We remain oblivious of our impact on the fate of a person living halfway across the world eating pepperoni pizza, and vice versa. Then, one happens to wake up one day and realize that sometimes the things you believe in simply run their course and fade away. And you're left with nothing to count on, nothing to call your own, nothing to define yourself in terms of. Just those lumps of indistinguishable color and morphine that you don't need. Because the numbness is almost overwhelming. Everything is measured in almosts and somewhats. The things that you would have given your life for, don't matter to you anymore. Everything seems to be a lost cause. You yearn to feel as intensely as you used to. You crave any form of completeness. You wonder if this lack of assurance could be traded for a dose of disillusionment. You wonder how the world could sell out its morality for a convenient vantage point. A struggle with integrity for some, and self-destructive tendencies. And the vacuum. The black-hole of a thing right in the middle of the cerebral cortex. You can't begin to imagine the things it could swallow into itself. Or all that it already has.

Of Obsession.

We humans are creatures of habit. Some innate, most acquired. Some out of compulsion, most out of whim. I once read somewhere that it takes 21 days to cultivate one... or let go of. But what is the difference between habit and addiction? Further, between addiction and obsession?

If A=B and B=C, then it follows naturally that A=C. (Or so says the transitive relation of mathematical logic.) Don't tell me about the thin line. I see a dozen thin lines, and glide over them everyday. Effortlessly, at that.

Addiction. Comes in all forms, flavors, shapes and sizes. But that's not what we're going to talk about. Not about nicotine, caffeine cocaine, heroin, hash, weed, food, retail therapy, blah blah.. yada yada... No, not even chocolate. I speak of being addicted to a state of mind. To a feeling. Not out of whim, but to it. When every bit of your reason, logic and faith has been put into a single direction. When you have the sum total of your resolve and belief riding on one thing and one thing alone. You can only achieve what you want if you believe that you can, and if you try hard enough. Somewhere along that road, the quest becomes not just a part of you. It becomes you. You begin to define yourself in terms of what you want, and you become what it takes to have it.

You begin to push yourself to the edge, and to enjoy it. You seek fulfillment and satisfaction in challenging odds. And ride the wave of drive that angst and anger brings with itself. Knowing fully well that living in the extremes is leading you to degeneration, not just of the physical sort. Frayed nerves bring on a kick, at least before the burn-out. That, is the essence of self-destructive behavior.

I'm told addiction can be battled. But how you you battle yourself? After you spend years knowing that you are capable of doing anything in the world, and build your whole life around that idea, how can you possibly teach yourself to give up? When do you know that it is the time to do so?

You don't. And that is the kind of addiction that consumes you all of your life. But you never learn to live with it. Ever.

Memoirs Of An Almost-Techie (Part-3)

Webcomic courtesy xkcd.

Yes, life as an engineering student comes with more than its fair share of existential crisis. You start to apply programming paradigms to real-world scenarios. Just last week, I was trying to use an Operating Systems(ETCS-212) strategy of deadlock avoidance on a classic Catch-22 situation.

Person A needs to discuss a matter of prime importance with Person B. Sadly, for that matter to be valid, there is a certain prerequisite state-of-conditions. But if Person B is, somehow, made aware of the matter, he is sure to disturb the aforesaid state-of-conditions. Whereby, annulling the effects of the attempt and discussion.

The things to be considered here are the discussion of the matter between A and B, and the conditions for the matter to be valid must prevail.

A situation in which two probabilistic events exist, and the desirable outcome results from the confluence of these events, but there is zero probability of this happening as they are both mutually exclusive. Hence, a deadlock.

Now, Operating System Concepts by Silberschatz, Galvin and Gagne(the book I refer to for this particular subject) says that there are 4 necessary conditions for a deadlock to occur :
1. Mutual Exclusion : Both processes cannot happen at the same time.
2. Hold-and-wait : The interdependence of outcomes of the two processes.
3. No-preemption condition : One process cannot force the other into terminating, or forestalling operation.
4. Circular-wait condition : Interdependence of operation.

Proposed solution? Make sure that no more than 3 of these conditions exist simultaneously. So, yours truly did, spend a hell lot of time thinking of how to eradicate one of the four conditions, complete with the permutations and combinations that come along with it. Only to come to one conclusion.

Q.E.D. Engineers, are strange people. Really.
...................................................................................................
Solutions for the problem are more than welcome. Ones with logic derived from other fields of study would be particularly delightful.

Snippet.

I continue to live in a world of my own.
Only now, it's better synchronized with the one on the outside.

However, which one is real..remains entirely a matter of speculation.

The Mercy of Wrath.

And with an air of nonchalance she said, "Anger is almost merciful. Love is far too cruel."

Anger consumes you in entirety. It burns you up till it wipes out every trace of any other emotion. Blinding rage is selfish. It is complete. And most importantly, it runs its course only till the time you decide to let go of it.
Love is brutal. Venomous in more ways than one. It takes you apart bit by bit, and chokes you slowly. Ruthlessly. It is destructive. So much more than anger.

Nonchalance is such sweet deceit. Some words always conceal much more than what they reveal.

The Order Of Things.

Where do you draw the line?
..................................................................

Have you ever believed in fate?
Have you ever questioned reality?
Have you ever been bewildered by random chance?

Think about it. Every single, tiny thing that happens, every minuscule and seemingly irrelevant action can have such far reaching consequences. Ever imagined that every second of your existence affects the way the universe functions? People who you meet everyday, places you go to.

Consider.
You're late for work. Rushing out, you forget your wallet at home. You head back, cursing the day under your breath and grumble about how you're going to deal with your boss. What you don't know is that had you been on time, you would have met with an accident exactly 15 seconds earlier and been in the place of a certain person (X). Had that person not been the one there, he would have gone on to murder another person (Y) in a classic case of third-degree homicide. Had that happened, the person Y wouldn't have gone on to have a family, and who's son would not have contributed to the use of a weapon of mass destruction.... this can go on a long long time.

People you see in a crowd. Ever wondered why you keep running into one of them over and over again? What if you're affecting their lives in epochal ways, or vice versa? Six degrees of separation reduces itself to a case of multiple linkages. And how certain things keep coming back to you, across time and space.

I am not a believer. I'm an explorer. A wanderer. And I am in search of answers.
Logic leads me to statistics.
Statistics lead me to probability.
Probability prescribes only coincidence as a valid explanation.
But where do you draw the line?
When occurrences supercede all probable values, when do you know it's something more than coincidence?
9 times may be a coincidence, but how do you decide that the 10th isn't?
Is there something more than coincidence? If yes, what is it?
Is there a higher order of things? Is there any such thing as "Karma"?
Does there exist a metaphysical balance? Where does it come from?

How much can you attribute to random chance?

There are times when things fall into place. It all seems to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. The probability of a certain chain of events happening is absurdly low. And yet, it happens. And one is left to wonder if there really is a bigger picture that we all miss out on. Such things have happened to me. And I have questions. Too many questions, and excruciatingly few answers.

Reference point : The Butterfly Effect / Chaos Theory.

An Ode to Eris.

An old journal entry, written during my board exams two years ago :

Chaos is absolutely necessary to modern life. In today's day and age, an individual who can perform under utopian circumstances is thoroughly inadequate. In order to attain a high degree of competence, it is necessary that one be capable of crisis management and dealing with demanding deadlines.
Therefore, I shall continue to while away time like a hopeless invalid, muse ceaselessly about the egg-came-before-the-chicken hypothesis, and save Quantum Physics for the day before the exam. Amen.

Conclusion : I find myself very hard to argue with.

*Eris, aka Discordia, is the Greek goddess of Chaos.

I plagiarize myself : Reduced, Reused, Recycled.

Foreword:
I once chanced upon a very interesting blogpost, written by one of *my favorite people in the world, and set out to comment. Once I was through dealing with the torrent of emotions I could not contain, let out in free flow, I realized that I had in effect, attempted to take over the blog by posting a verbiage of text nearly double of what the post itself contained. However, fully aware of the fact that this is my kingdom and I am the self-appointed king, I will yell out to mankind yet again and force it to hear me out.

* Dear Mindfreak, you are most welcome to retaliate and take over mine. :)

A question pertaining to the nature and necessity of logic/rationality/realism in the growth of a human as an individual. Also, the rationality v/s convenience hypothesis.

It is oft propounded that the realization of one’s concepts is a journey. But a life defined in non-absolutes isn’t exactly a very satisfying thought, is it?
Ignorance, like all other bitter pleasures, has a massive price tagged along that not many can afford. Despite the fact that the other extreme involves a risk much greater. That’s the problem with extremes, and that’s what ails the few who refuse to settle for anything but the extreme.

When faced with the proverbial fork in the road (especially in times and terms of moral dilemma),it is our innate tendency to take both ways at once. The middle path may be CONVENIENT. But it is not ABSOLUTE .Hence, not satisfying.

Perception, with its possible (/probable) discrepancies may not be absolute in the true sense. But conversely, there is no such thing as selective rationality (or in other terms, a convenient one).

If you say that rationality IS convenience, then you have, in effect, altered the definition of either of those two terms.
Let me elucidate with a very basic analogy:
An A is an A. Each one of us is capable of convincing ourselves it’s a C, to fit into our equation. THAT is convenience. Or either way, one at the cost of the other.
But what is the “right” thing to do..?
Let’s make it bigger: What defines the “right” thing to do?
Let’s go crazy with it: Is there a “right” thing to do?

I may not have the complete answer to the questions raised, but I refuse to let go of the belief that someday, I will define an all-encompassing absolute. It’s not just that I won’t. It’s that I can’t give up the quest. Call it a necessary hope.

Life.. On A Chess Board.

I went shopping again. And before I proceed, I assure you that this post has as much in common with chick-lit as Sarojini Nagar has to do with Jean Paul Gaultier i.e. very little. So, coming back to:
I went shopping. And again came to terms with exactly how anti-chrome I am.
All I see is Black and White. And I cannot start to express my disgust for the pink jeans-clad Disney Channel generation. In my opinion, Hilary Duff and Miley Cyrus(I think that's her name) have collectively done more damage to the world's youth than the entire "sex, drugs and rock n' roll" scene put together.

Anyhow, after pacing diligently up and down dozens of aisles in half a dozen different stores in three different malls, I happily walked home in unabated glory with bagfuls of a small treasure in black, white, black-and-white, white-and-black, and gray apparel! As I sat and allowed my obsessive compulsive disposition to take over and designate my newly acquired acquisitions in my majorly black, black-painted wardrobe in a dark corner of my thoroughly gray room, it struck me. A long forgotten comment ringing in my ear, nearly a year after a friend of mine, who will henceforth be referred to only as Dobre (pronounced Dobe-ray, and don't forget to roll the "r". ;) passed under a spate of absolutely inconsequential circumstances.
"Your life has long been reduced to an especially morose equivalent of a chess-board." (Or something that was decidedly to that effect in Hindi.)

He was right. It is all black and white for me. All or nothing. A life defined in extremes. There is never any room for anything else.
The truth of the matter is, that anyone who has tasted completeness, or dreamed of it, is condemned to settle for nothing but the absolute. Mediocrity and vagueness do not satisfy me. Every action has to have intensity, every thought has to have passion, every result has to be flawless, every intent has to be rational, and every move has to have precision. And I believe that rose-tinted glasses are only to blur things, for those who cannot handle the true sharpness of the real picture.

What interests me here is how my philosophical insights and work ethics tend to trancend my aesthetic preferences. A curious mingling of art and science.

Note to self : The human mind works in strange ways. As I have suspected since the first time I saw kids my age running around in their underwear, pretending to be Superman. Ahh... my very first moment of misanthropy and enlightenment, when I first identified my existential crisis. Muahahaha... *evil laughter*

A Disconnected Inference.

Love is to hate what matter is to energy.
Both can be inter converted, neither can be destroyed.

Warning : A little of one creates a hell lot of the other. Proceed with caution. The intermediate mixture is highly flammable.