London tomorrow. Blog later.

__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__

Okay, that was a very feeble attempt to feign a cardiogram. But well, oh well.

It's kind of surprising that I've been online for pretty much 13 hours everyday since June 23 and still haven't blogged. Honestly, when you discover a television series such as House M.D., blogging seems all meh.

So, I'm not going to end this post with the blahs of my newest visual addiction. I will, as promised, give you a nano-insight into my trip to Cambridge. Here goes:

23. Lived at Random Hall. And my room had a view of the Middle Earth. (No, I am not kidding, *crosses her heart*)

29. Way-post-midnight hacker-sojourns into the steam tunnels, scribbling in lairs (Yes, now the dome/dome is immortal), peeking into lecture halls straight out of OCW, and sitting atop domes. 'Nuff said for the fear of getting arrested.

41. Solo trip from Fenway and walking from the Berklee College of Music up to Random. Granted, the beautiful Charles and MGMT sounding in my head, but in a sweater? In Delhi-esque heat? Carrying 3 shopping bags?

53. Spent a whole morning at the Glass Lab, watching Halloween pumpkins being made by Marty Demaine. It was so fantastic and bizarre and fantastic. I even made a mish-mash goo of glass that I got to take home. Unfortunately I couldn't meet Prof. Erik Demaine because he wasn't around but that would have been like Intro to Algorithms jumping out of my laptop.

83. Got to attend a programming class at Junction (The summer program).

89. Met blogger Kim'09!

113. Attended a talk on self-assembly...which was so wicked because it started off with talking about the DNA and ended at the Riemann Zeta Function. (Hello, dreams come true)

131. So while I was heading up to attend the talk in the Stata, I apparently walked past Tim Berners-Lee. Without knowing it was him. I was made to see light later. *smacks forehead*

173. I'll be self indulgent in this one: gaped at Killian Court and the dome (which was being repaired or something) and Faraday and Aristotle and Newton and Darwin and whatnot inscribed all over the buildings. *sigh*

179. Got Nerfed! My host's friend works at Hasbro so- Face, meet rubber pellet from Nerf Gun.

191. Painted an ambigram in the PreFrosh mural at Fourth East. And it made me fall in love with Escher all over again.

233. Laser-cut the Mandelbrot set! Mwhahahah! Watched Firefly. Met the Random cats(which were *kinda* creepy). Took a dig at an optimization problem. Picked the summer program organizer's brains on Chaos Theory. LISTENED TO AWESOME FILK.

And I can bet there were some other awesome things I did, but leave it up to my sleep-deprived brain to excuse itself. Brownie points on keeping shut about the sequence in your comments. I know you know.

i^2. Barely.

I know, I know. I've been a BAD blogger. It's the longest I've gone without blogging and so on and so forth. But if I'd said I'd been doing something constructive and launched into a flurried speech of the this-and-that, you'd be impressed.

The sad truth is, I have done nothing. Since April. NOTHING. Zero.

Well, except:
1. Slept at 6AM all June and woke up at 10 AM. Or 2 PM. Depending on the room temperature.
2. Did not sleep all May.
3. Took a math sabbatical. And christ, do I feel stupid now.
4. Became a quasi-junkie. I sympathize with you weed-ridden rockstars :P
5. Lost weight. Drank water.

Yeah, the last one counts.

Sorry that this entry is hardly real. But I had to write to let the readers know that I'm not entirely dead yet. Well, YET.

PS: I'll be in the US next week on till July 10, so hopefully post that, I'll have something to write about.

PPS: I'll also be on the MIT campus :)

PPPS: According to Algerian time, which is my adopted timezone, it's bedtime. Cheers!

A Story.

This story was written in 3 hours as a by-product of a dream I had. There are some profanities, which are not meant to be offensive. And lastly, it might be a little dark.

I was told by the psychiatrist that I had multiple personality disorder and paranoid schizophrenia. Bullshit.

____________________________________________________________________________

I was walking down the linoleum floor. The prime time movie had been so pathetic; I was one of the only three people watching it. A door on a floor overhead opened. Two familiar figures drifted out, entwined. I looked away; I recognized one very well. Too well. Cackles followed them- their passé. They stopped ten feet ahead on my path and started kissing. It was too much for me; I walked on. And I noticed that one of the other two movie-watchers was my old friend S.

“Do you know what they were saying back there?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to pause.”

“One of them shouted ‘Ten Things I Hate About You’!”

“Yeah, okay. That would explain it.”

We were now at the edge of our apartment building’s sidewalk and headed for the common lawn. I could see my school grounds from there. Some freaky rock show or some festival was on at full swing. The whole field had been covered with hedges that would give each audience some privacy to enjoy the show. R had been so eager to go there; I was glad I’d avoided him. I despised his other friends. Turns out, I should have listened to my best friend.

“I’m going to go. I feel sick. See you tomorrow.” I stood up to leave.

“Yeah, take care.” I suddenly remembered how S and I had shared such a wonderful camaraderie so long ago. I almost missed it. Almost.

_____________________________________________________________________________

I woke up the next evening. Sleeping for long hours was not uncanny ever since I’d been “diagnosed”. The freak show must still be on. I’d better go down to R and make an appearance. I took the 1 mm radius of nitroglycerin balls that would cause the kind of explosion that was seen frequently during Diwali. I coaxed my sister to come along. As I went down the main road with her, I noticed it was absolutely cleared of activity. In one corner, stood 3 policemen, undercover presumably, wearing identical black and red jackets. I hurried onto the road to the school grounds.

‘Hey! Stop! You’re not allowed ahead.”

I panicked. They were following me. They had revolvers. So I did what my defense allowed; I dropped a small ball in their path. All this time, I forgot my sister was there. I just ran away while the small explosion created a diversion. She’d get back home safe. I reached the school grounds. The hedges were gone. People wore white and covered every inch of the pseudo-stadium. I felt conscious in my maroon uniform. I saw M inching toward me.

“What happened in here?”

“There was a terrible fire last night. Some accident. There were so many casualties…thank god you weren’t here earlier. I had to see some of those bodies…”

“Okay. I had some nitroglycerin with me. Here, just take care of them.”

“Okay. You’d better go pay your respects at the memorial we’ve set up. I’m sure you knew some of them.”

I didn’t like that tone. I headed over to a wooden plaque of names that was surrounded by flowers and people. I took one look and heaved.

R, C, Sh.

If only I’d listened to my best friend. Things would never be the same.

_________________________________________________________________________________

It is so surreal that we have CP playing at this gig! Stupid A…she is missing something amazing. R stood on tiptoe and peered through the hedge. No sign of her.

“RUN!”

What? Suddenly, bright orange flames engulfed the hedge next to R’s. Heh, those crazed juniors and their nitroglycerin. He walked through the arch of leaves to talk to them out of it; to tell them to use the extinguisher correctly. No sooner he’d walked through the arch, it was alight. He was wrong.

If he hadn’t known that the hedge clearing had been occupied by humans, those charred pieces of black would have never convinced him. As much as he wanted to get rid of the nausea and shock, the realization that he was trapped struck him. And it was definitely too late. Save me, A…save me.

When the inferno’s crest reached his skin, he smelled the charring first. He looked down at his arm. His translucent skin had been weak…as it now burned through to sear his blood, and though he could see parts of his muscle and now the Radius, and then the Ulna, pain was the last thing on his mind. It reached his hair and his spine and as he melted, his senses burned away. The fire reached his eyes and he knew he’d be dead shortly. Pain. More pain. It would end soon enough. His screams were oddly silenced by his mind. He was wasted now, beyond repair. He was as good as those blistered, black corpses that had lain before him, oozing fresh blood and exposing bones. He was gone.

____________________________________________________________________________

One week later, I headed to school. It had not seemed like a week. My parents had taken me to the psychiatrist again after I’d fallen unconscious in the bathroom thrice in two days. She’s taking a lot of stress. I don’t really know what we can do except let time heal her. Best friend, boy friend, lab partner. All gone. Those Citaloprams were a farce.

I walked into the library headfirst. “Were have you been A? We needed you to write certificates!”

“I need to issue some books.”

“I see. Go ahead.”

A biography of Paul Cohen, Thus Spake Zarathustra, C’s book draft ready for publication and R’s editorial in the school newspaper, and 15 other books on number theory and algebraic geometry. Math and Nietzsche. Maybe I’ll survive after all.

“20 books for issue?! You know we have a policy of at most 5.”

I blinked at her. She signed my card.

As the bell rung, I trudged into class. The vultures descended on me at once.

“Are you going to read all that?!”

“Are you feeling better, A? My mother has been so concerned…”

A singular voice, a deep baritone, cut through the din. “A…A…I need to talk to you about the other night. I told them not to laugh. The kiss was a lie. The whole relationship was a charade to make you jealous. I’m sorry. Now I know what I want. I’m sorry about C…but you have to move on with life. I want to make it up to you. Please forgive me.”

I looked at him through my blank eyes. I was pretty sure my dead face gave nothing away. Not that I had much to, anyway. My eyes took in his perfect Adonis face, his sculpted biceps. The basketball shoes he was wearing.

I walked away.

The teacher didn’t say anything. I knew all his stupid single variable calculus lectures anyway. He had tested me when I’d contested his lectures. I walked away.

_______________________________________________________________________________

“It was not an accident, you know, A, the fire. It was in the papers today. A terrorist attack. What kind of sadist bastards would attack a school?”

“The competition is at 4, dad.”

The car swung across the hairpin U-turn to school. I carried my identification card, a blue water bottle I’d stolen from the refrigerator, a thick book of about 3000 pages. As I stepped in through the wrought iron gates, a voice stopped me.

“A? You have been running behind on your social work project. You have time left for the competition. Why don’t you volunteer to fill some water bottles for the ration distribution? It’ll help your grade.”

I didn’t really give a damn to my grade. I just wanted to be out of her fucking presence.

“Sure.”

“Okay, then. Fill those blue bottles with lukewarm water till the three-quarters mark. Then fill the rest with ice.”

I was now engaged in filling water bottles following the rules of ratio and proportion for the benefit of happy-to-help student volunteers at some random godforsaken slum. Sometimes, it was good to be paranormal.

My arms were spent. I slipped my own blue bottle along with the rest. And then stalked away.

The amphitheatre was covered with chairs. The kind that are covered with white cloth to hide the ripping leather and broken sponge, the kind that are usually there by the grace of the corner caterer. Debate will help you open up, I was told. I had smirked. I knew I was a replacement for R.

R. Suddenly, years of phone calls rushed into my head. We’d had a rare connection…

I shrugged. It was unlike me to feel emotional. I smirked again. How many times had C complained about that?

I slapped myself.

Three people walked toward the group of competitors. One of them was a woman dressed in a black corporate suit and her two cronies donned identical Armani. I tried to get over the Wall Street-ness of it all. “Welcome everyone!” The lady smiled more widely than necessary. Dumb and Dumber kept whispering behind her back. Then she said something that I missed because I was sick of looking at her. I made a model of a more stable amphitheatre in my head. Two minutes later, when I snapped out of my reverie, I was alone with the other three. The others had been instructed to go inside the building.

They seemed to be oblivious to my presence, or even if they were aware, they were comfortable with it. I felt disconcerted.

“Q will be coming to the debate as a judge. You have orders. Is everything in place?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Then several things happened at once that I had to think back through to recapture. Dumb’s phone rang, the lady took out an automatic and pointed it at him. Dumber grinned. Then the lady pulled the trigger eight times, making a rectangle of bullets on Dumb’s chest. The gun had a silencer, which made me happy. Ringing ears are not good for paranoid schizophrenia, you know. Dumb fell. And three seconds later, so did Dumber.

“Come on, darling. We have Q to meet.”

“He was a Paki, wasn’t he?”

“So I thought too.”

I walked with her.

______________________________________________________________________________

The Bentley stopped at the corner of the west wing of the school. The only way to return to the main gate would be after taking a huge roundabout and a U-turn at the end of the road. Mr. F was a busy man. He didn’t quite know why he had been invited as a judge to a debate of schoolchildren. He told his driver to pick him up in exactly an hour; it was beneath him to stay for the whole function. He stepped out of the car.

A flashbulb went off in his face.

“You fuckers…leave me alone for two minutes, will ya?”

I instructed my deputy to take out the video camera. The act had to be perfect. I whipped out a microphone.

“Mr. F, what brings a man of your stature to a national debate? Do you think that your company will be benefited much by being a sponsor?”

I did not wait for his response. I looked right. And signaled. The glass window had a microscopic hole in it about half a second later. The .3mm missed F’s temple by inches. I cursed. Sighing, I reached for my automatic in my maroon blazer and before he had enough time to react, life belied him. I turned around and chugged two bullets into my deputy’s head. The road had been cleared; that had been taken care of. The bodies would be cleared too. Who would clear my pristine white shirt of their sick blood, though? I did not like to dirty my uniform. Perhaps the blazer would cover it.

I stepped into the Bentley, put on my seat belt and grimaced at the driver.

“It was not an accident, you know, A, the fire. It was in the papers today. A terrorist attack. What kind of sadist bastards would attack a school?”

“The competition is at 4, dad.”

“Okay kiddo. Hold the steering wheel for me for one second. I want to make sure I have ammo.”

“And don’t ever call me a sadist bastard.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

It was exactly 4 PM. It was too early.

“Say A; let’s take this baby for a spin across the city, eh?”

My father, the megalomaniac.

We took a longer route and all the time I didn’t say a word. I don’t like speaking to people much. By the time we were in the periphery of the building again, it was 5:20PM. Safe.

I entered the school. Again, as some people would have put at. Some people like my psychiatrist. I stifled a laugh. Something was really wrong today-I was rarely amused.

I entered the hall. The students had already been given a topic to prepare their debates on. I pitied them. They murmured, obviously aware that something was wrong. Poor lambs.

I noticed the Gucci woman had given them identical pens. The ends covered with a skin-tinted coat.

“Where did you disappear to, A? Do you have any effing clue how long it has taken to break the goddamn code?”

“It’s a URL, woman. How tough can it be?”

I eased the A4 out of her hand and looked at it. What was our organization coming to? Hiring such lesser mortals!

“You need to rotate it by a 90 and look through the pattern.”

“Oh.”

I was glad to have nitroglycerin in the hollow of the enormous book I carried. Nitroglycerin comforted me. Fireworks enthralled me.

I thought about R, C and Sh. I would miss them. And this was the best way I could avenge them. I sighed.

Now to wait for Q.

______________________________________________________________________

Sometimes, kismet happens.

It is a known and accepted truth that every 17-year-old-aspiring-mathematician-nearing-18-years-of-age-who-ever-dreams-of-writing-a-paper (try to come up with an acronym for that, OMGbiatches!) more or less, speaks Tex. LaTex. So en route the aforementioned, I downloaded the 82MB MikTeX file like a haloed angel. And then unZipped it and installed it. So far so good.

Rewind.

What do I see?!



Yeah. White on blue. What IS that?

Once upon
a time, in
a distant galaxy called
something-that-Blogger-refuses-to-include, there lived
a computer named R.J. Drofnats.

Mr. Drofnats-or "R.J.",
as he preferred to be
called-was happiest when
he was at work

typesetting

beautiful

documents.

Now this may be an antiquated joke in software, but as I have come across it presently, I shall reserve the right to obsess.

And it only starts here:
What do you think Drofnats means?

Clue 1: Think Suril.
Clue 2: Think ugly rejections.
______________________

Statutory Warning:
Don't blame me if this

a. Cracks you up.
b. Makes you molest Google.
c. Launches you into nights of caffeine-addiction and further riddle solving.
d. All of the above, in sequences of indeterminate behavior.
_____________________

Sometimes, kismet happens. Maybe I'll grow up and become a house painter instead.

Update on my exploits

Hello World.

I have finally decided to dispense with the soap opera that my life had become in the past few weeks and have concurred with my conscience on a common ally that is helping return to mathematics finally. Meet a friend:



The molecule is less horrific than the IUPAC name! Anyhow, I'm currently reading this book called Scar Tissue, which is Anthony Kiedis' autobio (yeah, the RHCP guy{I *cardoid* RHCP!}) to escape from resorting to any unread 'literachaw' lying around *No more War and Peace! Please! Please? I mean, Leo Tolstoy must have aged a few decades writing it*. Anyway, it has got to be, probably, the most scandalous read ever. If you're a quasi-junkie somewhat like yours truly, give it an attempt.

On the brighter side, here is a collection of the worst math jokes ever (yes, I'm talking cringe-worthy, projectile vomit-inducing, and in general lame ones). Make some of your own instead to score general cool points! ^_^

Questions and a half hour of nothing.

This, my friends, is for absolutely no reason. Just because I had to blog...

Are you an innie or an outie?

That took a moment to decipher. But I'm an outie. A solitary outie.

Have you ever written a song?

Yes. I doubt that turned out well. (The songs were called Aubergine and Frankenstein)

Can you make change for a dollar right now?

If I operated on that currency, maybe...

Have you ever been in the opposite sex's public toilet?

Erm. Yes. Purely by accident.
Took me 2.7 seconds to figure out why cubicles like that existed.

Have you ever written a poem?

Contrary to many expectations, YES! It's basically angsty weirded stuff.

Do you like ketchup on or beside your fries?

I'm allergic to ketchup.

Have you ever been a boy/girl scout?

No.

Have you ever written a book?

Not yet. But no one will read anything by me. Not even WBF.
Have you ever broken a mirror?

Are you superstitious?

In no way whatsoever.

What is your biggest pet peeve?

Inability to instantly recall. Screwing up arithmetic. Slowness. Slapstick humor.

Do you slurp your drink after it's gone?

Depends on the drink! Soda: ugh, no. Chamomile tea: Sure.

Have you ever blown bubbles in your milk?

Regularly when I was 10 months old. Most recetnly: this evening, into my chocolate shake. My mother may want to commit me.

Would you rather eat a Big Mac or a Whopper?

I'm not a foodie. At all. Not because I am on a diet or have a compulsion to look a certain way. Just not.

Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?

Sadly, no.

Would you ever parachute out of a plane?

Yeah!! *switches the TV channel to a Thums Up ad: "Taste the Thunder"*

*and then hits herself on the head*

What's the most daring thing you've done?

Uh...made MyMIT.info. I think.

When you are at the grocery store, do you ask for paper or plastic?

PAper! Environment FTW!

True or False: You would rather eat steak than pizza.

False.

Did you have a baby blanket?

Have you ever tried to cut your own hair?

Thankfully no. I must not look like Sharon Osbourne.

How did that turn out? Have you ever sleepwalked?

I talk a lot in my sleep. Imagine the kind of expletives my sister must be subject to!

Have you ever had a birthday party at McDonalds?

Embarrassingly enough, yes. About four times.

Do you ride roller coasters?

<_< Counting on Colton.

What is your favorite cartoon of all time?

That is a very difficult question. Probably more challenging than contour integration. And I'm still discovering worlds in Manga. WHY, god, WHY.

Can you pick something up with your toes?

Yes. In fact, every morning on a school day, my toes would function like my hands. Books, comb, tie, underclothes...whatnot.

How many remote controls do you have in your house?

19. Not kidding.

Have you ever fallen asleep in school?

Constantly, all senior year. My principal was sick of the habitat I had created in her office.

Are you more like Cinderella or Alice in Wonderland?

Alice. Duh. Cinderella is s-t-u-p-i-d.

Do you talk in your sleep?

Refer to the sleepwalking question above.

Would you rather shovel snow or mow the lawn?

Mow the lawn. No reason.

Have you ever played in the rain?

Always do!

Whats your favorite number?

None in particular. Primes go well with me.

Would you rather make your living as a singing cowboy or as one of the Simpsons voices?

Simpsons! No competition!

Do you need corrective lenses?

I need a corrective brain.

Would you hang out with / date someone your best friend didn't like?

I hang out with more than 15 such people. Because my best friend has an extraordinarily long list of such people.

If you won a $5,000 shopping spree to any store, which store would you pick?

Shopping. Me. Not a good idea.

Among your friends, who could you arm wrestle and beat?

Hm. Most.

What do you think is your best feature?

Whoever wrote these questions is gay.

:)

I have been stupid.

And have wanted to blog for a long time, but just couldn't get to it.

And I read a comment on one of my previous entries about how I've lost my original touch to my entries, and I have decided I will not BS this blog with college-related crap, because, well, it is crap.

And because I don't have anything to blog about right now(cummon, listening to a rant about the upcoming JEE isn't too... pleasant), so I'll leave you with this:

:)

Credit: Thesaurus.

"Not Admitted"

Stu Schmill: "We regret to inform you that..."

Meh: "Oh..hmm...okay"

It has been more than a normal application experience. I need to thank these people.

Randall Munroe: 10/17 :) You're beyond amazing!

Paul Baranay: Thank you so much for your help on the hack! It'll be really hard to stop reading the real blogs... :(

Ben Jones: Your posts made me want to apply to MIT. I just really miss you today.

All the Admissions bloggers: Snively, you just really do look like Sheldon. Your posts are addictive,Yan(om nom nom pictures!) Chris: Big Bang Theory :) Thanks for the app help Ahmed! Shannon: Thanks for the 18.02 videos!

Mr. Meattle: You have got to be the most AMAZING EC in the history of ECs...couldn't ask for better. Yes, I'll behave myself!

Tree and the Bot: Nah...not over.

The hackers: We created the best hack ever(with the exception of the possibility of a dome on the dome:)) We rock! PS: Fiona: Cryparty!!!

Corey: Thanks for the 'sorry's. Heh.

All the applicants: Admitted, or not...I'm sure we'll do great!

____________________________________________________

I can't believe I won't spend time inside the Gian Carlo Rota reading room, or attend Richard Stanley's Putnam Seminar, or hang around Athena or... man...there's too much.

Thank you, MIT.

Pi.

After tomorrow's English paper (Yes, Stephen Spender, I will never have to read you again mwhahaha!) my "last" post will go up on mymit.info. Last in the sense of being a prefrosh. As I'm definitely, vehemently, absolutely *not* a bot, I haven't quite planned what my line of action will be at 2:00PM EDT on Pi day.

However, till 1:59:26, I'll be on The Unofficial Chat, being all nervous with my fellow applicants. Because I'm already too numb at the prospect of being Schrodinger's Cat and The Greatest People Of All Time. So...I'm not really in the mode for writing something emo...just wanted to say:

T h a n k s.

Spared the 's' for infinitely many other links. Saturday it is, then.

Finals Week

Heh. Today is Friday. My Bored Exams start on Monday. Heh.

Cherry on the cake: Chemistry. P Block elements. Surface Chemistry.

Transcript...not yet reached. Financial Aid Documents: Not all faxed.

And I'm still giggly. Heh.

Wow...this entry's so pointless. Maybe Polymers will make more sense?

I'm sorry...I'm in a dark mood. Chemistry is not really my favorite subject.(Read as: I SUCK at Chem!)

On the bright side, I have TWO Yeti t-shirts now :P

And SS Krotov too.(Though I haven't had much time to do it.) :(

Sigh Finals Week. Chemistry...aren't thou a heartless bitch.

Gasp! What's this?!

I am a hound.
I was a hound.
I will remain a hound.

But noooowww, it's your turn!!! [At the risk of sounding too much like a detergent advertisement.]


Presenting....


Our humble homage to The Most Visited Website/Blog Of All Time.

Here's a quick recap of anything Paul might have missed and you surely shouldn't:
11. Randall's entry!!!! (He's awesome :D)

23. The Child topics. Seriously, I think the most Epic Parodies have been done there. Personal favorites: this, this and this. Lol.

37. The Sidebars. I personally think they're pretty funny.

47. The Entries. Uhm...quite.

59. The Bloggers. Aww... <3 us!

73. The homephoto! Meh photoshopping skills :)

So, because this is a real, functioning blog now, I have two blogs to blog on[cue to sighing with relief on less blogular activity on this domain.]

Have fun, guys! Tell me how it looks too!

PS: Sorry for being off. Next time, look forward to amazing pics of Firefox goodies. Be nice to me, and some of them may actually come your way ;)

Mid-teen-life Crisis.

Yeah, I know. Throw the book at me. I've just been down with viral and/or bumming around and/or pre-boarding(yes, CBSE, you eville short-sighted bitch).
But I've realized something horrible. So bad, that I haven't been sleeping much lately and when I do manage that, I don't stop.
*Drumroll*

I am 17 years and 3 months and 26 days already.[1]

Why,oh why, is this freaky?

22. Evariste Galois had produced a lifetime of mathematics by now. Those self righteous #%$!@&*%'s descendents must be repenting not admitting him to Ecole, because I believe(even though this is sounding like a commentary on Ev's life), if Ecole had happened, the stupid duel wouldn't have.

56. I'll have turned 18 during my first semester in college. This has dire consequences for my research dreams. Unless I gather credits. And fast.

38. Sets me in retrospect: what did I do when I was 14?

12. Sob.

6. Sob.

[1] I have never been politically correct on my blog ever and I'm not going to start now. Thus, accurate term for feeling: "Holy Shit!".

I blog way too much.

It's been four days since I blogged. I feel incomplete.

*Okay, mom, I'll keep off the net!*
*As if! heeheehee (Cruella De Ville style)*

Because I'm grossed out by preboards, nothing noteworthy is happening to me. And the stuff that is noteworthy is strictly unbloggable. Strictly.

So I'll demonstrate exactly how useless I actually am; one of my crazed obsessions...(this one's from May 2008):




Isn't it at the right place? In between the beauty that it deserves. If Riemann lived, gauss knows what I'd have done.
And yes, I write on window panels. It is adulterating.

Anyway, Physics on Friday. I wish I was happier, but I'm not.

I'll write a real entry as soon as my brain can process again.

My state is sad.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A side note, edited on January 23, 2008, 10:00 PM IST: The pictured plant has died since then.

Well, this post is just for the sake of it. Why? I'm maintaining the Arithmetic Progression...Look right for a dawn of insight :P




Deal with it; I love randomness...especially when it's too random.

Happy Birthday Stephen Hawking and Happy Deathday Galileo Galilei!

Brain Fry

Here's what I did during ~2 hours of High School Musical 3. And while hanging out in the mall. And while waiting in a car. And in Chem class.

Bach :D MIT :D Euler :D

It's easy to fall in love with ambigrams.

[If you need to use this picture, please leave a comment; I'll gladly oblige.]

Questions

Why am I feeling cold? Why am I cold? Why am I angered? Why am I livid, depressed, isolated? Why am I happy without people? Why can't I like, love and cherish? Why is it hard to smile?Why is it hard to sleep? Why is it hard to wake up? Why is it me everyday, in old sweatpants, oversized green hoodies, and hair tied in a bun? Why am I anxious, why am I in knowing? Why can I only see darkness in humanoids, light in inhuman aspects? Why am I not listening to my favorite song? Since when haven't I heard my favorite song? Why am I letting my food grow cold? Why did my spirits wash away with my computer's meltdown? Why am I a new person with a clear hard disk? Why am I obsessed? Why can't I comprehend? When was the last time I cracked an algorithm? When was the last time I opened my sheaf of Putnam problems? Why do I want to sing? Why do I want to cry? Why do I hate social networking? Why do I hate my folks for making me see a quack? Why am I 17 already?

This is not a rant. Its the backlog of a few weeks. Like the ambigram you make and the draft you leave behind. Like the set of speakers you make and the wire and plastic you leave behind.Like the applications you fill and the discoveries you make. Like when someone asks you out, you discover whats wrong with yourself.Like the song you're listening to and wishing you weren't.

Happy New Year!


I seriously hope this one's better than 08.

Seriously.




(I'm not usually bent on ending auspicious entries with ominous sentences. But, oh well.)

A Little Wishing :)

Yeah, well...Christmas eve and 38 minutes to go till D-Day...haha...this is fun....filling in MIT's app and watching my folks jive to the Beatles(Close your eyes and I kiss you/Tomorrow I'll miss you...)My dad got his tapes out and now it's like...the 80's!!

Anyway, this bloglet is meant to be a wish for all you guys out there reading this...tis the season to be jolly, so a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!! Hope 2009 sees the fulfillment of all your wishes!

PS: Especially for little lambs like me, I hope 2009 brings in 'Accepted' admission letters :P:P Oh, and some good topology learning and a LOT of good music :D

Aah, well, didn't get the Flip, but the guy who got it really deserved it!

Here's On the Streets at Florida Tech...enjoy!

Mozilla On the Streets Video Contest

After that rather ferocious entry and incoherent rant, time for some sweet fun! Here's the video I made for the Mozilla On the Streets Video Contest as a campus representative. Result's out tomorrow! If I didn't tell you guys already, the prize is an awesome Flip Mino Camera for 3 winners






and YETI T-shirts for everyone!



Y.E.T.I stands for: Youthful Energetic Tenacious Intelligent (Campus Reps/Interns)
Sweet or what...


Oh, and here the video:

(Please pardon the horrible resolution because:
1. It's shot on a 2MP cellphone.
2. It's the compressed version.
3. I took a lot of pains to upload this, so you better be happy :P)



Aakriti is priceless and so is Amaal. Sorry Digveer and Parv, I couldn't get your clips up there because of One Evil Motorola; you're the only guys who'd actually know what you were talking about!

Enjoy!

I do not know what to type here.

7:23 Note to self: Hopefully there would be no sleep today.

7:24 Note to self: Get me S S Krotov. Now.

Is there a God? I'm agnostic, but there is contradictory evidence that forces an evaluation of personal beliefs.

Baroque in D Minor.

Ares does not adhere to my file sharing settings. I dislike P2P sharing networks.

The Domino Effect. Instantaneous beauty of mathematics. Not necessarily inductive.

The Ostrich Syndrome. Better escapism than religion.

MC Escher's Mobius Strip and the Klein Bottle. The universe is infinitely curved onto itself. I like them.

The Incompleteness Theorem by Kurt Godel. Harsh reality of human life and immortal thought.

Facebook. A web and 5 million flies.

A fireplace and the Unification conjecture.

I get paranoid if my Inbox does not have more than 5 new emails every morning.

Food should not mix. Neither should dusty things be touched. Public toilets must not be used.

Little strings that make me up? Not hard to believe.

Gerhard Bernard Riemann.

Running 100 meters as fast as my leg muscles permit. As though the world is left behind.

Sleep with abandon. Learn with abandon.

The number 23.

Rant # 1729

Well, I have my SAT II on Saturday, and shameless as I am, blog will I. Lately my life seems to have been encompassed by this frightening little thing called College! But this is to prove that my life goes beyond that.
Right?
Apparently not :(
Anyway, I have compiled an amazing video for the Mozilla On The Streets Video Contest, and I will embed the YouTube thingie soon on this blog. The prize is a super hot Flip Mino Vid Cam :)

Oh, oh, oh and....

My favorite artwork:



(which is deliberately re-sized to load faster and evoke your interest) :P

So you wanna go to MIT?

I'm hosed. If I didn't say that before(but I did), I'm hosed. It's in this hosiness I went for my MIT interview today...11 AM(thats Ahana Standard Time for waking up, so...). Funnily enough, I went thinking that because the standard interview lasts 45 minutes, I'll palpitate for a half hour and begone. Boy, was I ever wrong.

First odd thing: I wore preppy clothes. A skirt!! Believe it.
Second: A ginormous house greets me. It's damn hot, so I'm sweating before planned.

Right, so a guy, 62 years old, greets me and my dad and we go in. First questions first: SAT score, about the LHC, prospective majors. Then over and over, 'whats so great about me' ...yeah, so I vomited my resume and all that... Okay, so far so good.

5 minutes later: You bully your sister?

10 minutes later: You clean your room?

20 Minutes later: Whats happening in Congo?

22.5 minutes later: Do you help your mother?

22.57 minutes later: There! I knew you were a spoilt kid.

22.573 minutes later: You must watch BBC/CNN everyday.

28 minutes later: I'm talking like a grandfather to you.

65 minutes later: My roommate in college was Amar Bose. (Fricking awesome!)

120 minutes later: Write to on a stamp paper that you'll come back to India. Now bye-bye.

120.0005 minutes later: What's the name of the hall that's 1/8th of a perfect sphere?(Imagine, I forgot that! so nervous...!) Kresge :)

120.00055 minutes: In my car, umm...dazed.

But seriously, it was NOT an interview. It was like a on-to-one discussion, focussing on all my lazy habits. Very pleasant, he was almost like my Grandpa(thank god I didnt call him that, though). Surprisingly, no questionnaire, no nothing. He completely smashed the image of the scary interviewer I had in mind.

But this, apparently, is just first in a series. Brr.

Not to scare you or anything. But it's wise not to take your folks along o.0

And yeah, he also went to Woodstock and spoke to me about boyfriends. !

Where am I going? What am I doing?

This entry is not supposed to sound grammatically correct or anything like my usual nasty self. It's a rant, a torrent of emotions, a blurt-out, a self indulgent piece of writing that I'd not want to read again.

Do their homework, take their classes, fail their exams...fail fail fail. Get rejected, ignored, humiliated until you can't take it anymore. Get turned away from anything and everything you do. Be misjudged. Misunderstood. Hold an opportunity in your sweaty hands, and watch it slip away like sand. Finally, the term 'loser' makes sense...first time you fall head first into a ditch and that too at the most crucial time of your life. You can't live for your passion, and you can't die for the sake of living. You have no clue what the future holds for you, and everyday you fail your expectations and then you deal with your ever-so-successful peer, your parents, and even after that if you have energy left, you have to console yourself.
When you come second, only your wife and dog care about you. And when you fail, you don't exist. Nobody wants you, nobody cares anymore. Why would they? You hold up, you hang on, you vow never to give up. But those failures are like running spiked shoes stomping on your hands, trying to hold up...so desperately trying.

And then you fall.

Too Hosed To Give a Title

Actually, not writing in ~a month wasn't planned in any way, but the truth is that though I'm nowhere near MIT, I'm hosed! But that by choice, of course o.0

As this suspiciously looks like one of those entries done for the heck of it, with absolutely no purpose/statement/interest/motivation, I'll spare you with the geek talk and give you a heads up on my calendar(I know you don't need it, but anonymous sympathy has a way of decreasing The Depression Entropy) : umm, Mozilla Campus Rep video contest stuff, RMO, MTH 252 finals(!), School exams, Alvin Cox deadline, Essays and complete app for colleges, XML themes, Arts Supplement Completion, writing Internship, Financial Aid app, something-I'm-sure-I've-forgotten, etc.

err....PHEW!

Why Google is Oddly Intriguing

Hello World v2.0.1.

Disclaimer: This entry, in no way is supposed to make fun of the Google search engine's prowess. Or it being transformed into a verb. This entry also shows why the Google search engine needs a serious class in Occam's Razor and YAGNI, which unfortunately it can't adopt.

Keyword: Ahana Datta

Results 1 - 10 of about 13,300 for ahana datta. (0.07 seconds)

Did you mean: ayan datta

Cogito - Ahana Datta: Using Nanotechnology for Cost-Effective ...

Ahana Datta devised a plan to apply nanotechnology to making catalytic converters, devices that are used in automobiles to convert toxic carbon monoxide ...
www.cogito.org/Articles/ArticleDetail.aspx?ContentID=17460 - 32k -

Thoughts in head(TIH): That's me. yay me.


Results 11 - 20 of about 13,300 for ahana datta. (0.55 seconds)

Team Euphoria on Flickr - Photo Sharing!

... accepts the team award as the Adult Advisor. Lillian and teammate Julia Gulka of the US and Ahana Datta and Arshdeep Singh of India were not able to attend.
www.flickr.com/photos/9518484@N02/678338769/ - 58k -

TIH: That's me again. This is kind of nice.


BUT, scroll down:

Rare Movies: Aha na pellanta and Chantabbai DVDs(Jandhyala comdy ...

(aha na pellanta not uploaded by us. Thanks to the original uploader!) ...... Sri Datta Darsanam (1); Sri Krishnanjaneya Yuddham (NTR) (1); Sri Krishnarjuna ...
candilla.blogspot.com/2008/05/aha-na-pellanta-and-chantabbai.html - 227k -

TIH: YIKES! Is Ahana even a word? Southy spooky.


Results 101 - 110 of about 13,000 for ahana datta. (0.50 seconds)

Uday Vir Singh | Facebook

- [ Translate this page ]Rishabh Suri · Ahana Datta Ahana Datta · Srishti Saxena Srishti Saxena · Dilraj Bhatia Dilraj Bhatia · Nikhita Sawhney Nikhita Sawhney · Harpreet Singh ...
de.facebook.com/people/Uday_Vir_Singh/657855051 - 23k -

TIH: 1. Notice that it opened in Facebook Deutsche.
2. Why Uday?



Results 281 - 290 of about 13,000 for ahana datta. (0.50 seconds)

Bollywood Sensation Vol 2 - 51 Songs DVD

Aha Aha... - Na Tum Jano Na Hum; 27. Aayee Re Aayee Re Khushi... - Khushi; 28. ... Enigmatic Guru Dutt - 4 CD Gift Set. Sale Price: $59.00 ...
store.nehaflix.com/bosevol251so.html - 53k -

TIH: LOL!


Results 531 - 536 of about 13,100 for ahana datta. (1.31 seconds)

Welcome to NamesDatabase™- Making the world a smaller place.
Making the world a smaller place. Join over 33 million members worldwide: search , find and connect with friends, coworkers, schoolmates, and lost loves. namesdatabase.com/ - Similar pages - Note this

In order to show you the most relevant results, we have omitted some entries very similar to the 536 already displayed.
If you like, you can repeat the search with the omitted results included.

And thats the end of "13,300" searches for my name.

No offence to Google's coochie-cooes, but that's logarithms?!! Try doing this to your name. Har Har.

Ten Things I...

...want for my birthday!!

Here goes...

3. Professor's Cube

5. Sundial

7. Firefox T-shirt(the black one!)

11. On the Shoulders of Giants

13. Noise eliminating earphones

17. A huge blackboard

19. Video Lectures

23. Chalk Holder

29. Converse shoes

31. MC Escher's 'Relativity'

I know of one place where I'll find all(well,most) of it. But alas, college application fees and zero (cash) savings!


Whoops: Sorry for re-editing this, but I got to get this in if I don't feel like writing another entry soon. The University of Chicago, which has the best essay topics for its application introduced this to me:

I'm a Campus Rep!!

CLICK !

Ok, having received no comments from pissed out readers, there goes my geekiness :