The Cliché

He opened his eyes. He was waiting for her at the train station. It was late. Almost midnight. The train would be leaving soon. And they'd go away. Far away from the family feuds and the intimidation and the pain and the...But why hadn't she come yet? She had to. She had promised. The light turned green. A whistle sounded. The train set off in motion with a gentle shove. One last searching look. He rubbed away the tears. And stepped on to the train...

He opened his eyes. His head felt heavy. And a couple of sizes too big. Something cold was pressed against his hand. A .45 automatic. Used quite recently. He could smell it in the air. He tried to get his eyes to focus. And regretted it immediately. She lay on the carpet in a pool of blood. He stumbled over and hugged her. Then carried her lifeless body and placed it on the bed. He knew he would be the prime suspect. His fingerprints were all over the place. Well, so be it. He rubbed away the tears and reloaded the gun. They would pay for this...

He opened his eyes. Someone was calling his name. He walked over and got his espresso. 3 more hours of studying. And then 2 more in the examination hall. He wondered how many more espressos he'll need. He tried to concentrate on the squiggles which according to the author were a data plot. Someone who smelled nice squeezed past him, stumbled and scalded his neck with her latte. He screamed. She panicked. Everyone stared. She got some napkins. She said she was sorry. He said it was alright. He made a quick trip to the restroom. He sat down. He saw she had the same textbook...

He opened his eyes. The hospital tiles stared back at him. Cold, unfriendly and spotlessly clean. She'd been in surgery for almost three hours now. His brain was numb from worrying. And praying. All he wanted was for someone to come out and tell him that she was going to be okay. It had been a drunk driver. One who hadn't noticed or hadn't cared for the red light. Why? Why her? Why today? Why hadn't he picked her up from work like everyday? He rubbed away the tears and looked up. The nurse was walking towards him. Please let her be okay, just please let her be okay...

"What are you doing? And why are these crumpled papers on the floor?"

"Well, what does it look like I'm doing? I am trying to write a short story. But everything I've tried so far just sounds so clichéd."

The blogger returns... again.

I’ve been having a massive case of writer’s block lately which has catapulted me into this unwanted sense of laziness to pen down not even a single thought running through my head. After half an hour of the mental anguish of making decisions no matter how trivial they may be, writing this post has been a result of some tremendously redundant over-thinking.

First things first, this is not the first time. As observed from the frequency of my posts, which have a tendency to appear as spasmodic bursts scattered unevenly on the blog time line I have no such pang of regret on being irregular.

Deux. I have been feeling pretty disconnected with a few people including the mental personification of this blog lately for unknown reasons. Well the more I delay my ‘confession time’ acts the less is the probability of it showing up in any conversation (even the ones I have with myself). So even sharing a thought has been rendered a sinful deed somehow with the whole screwed up moral and conscience issues in my head. I’m already the Ebenezer Scrooge for this winter it seems. “Good artist copy, great artists steal” said once Pablo Picasso.

Tres. I have been through a lot lately, and with each passing chronicle, which I always plan to pen down on the blog… it ultimately results in failure to launch. And sadly I think I forgot more than half of what I was to write.

Then there were times when I got piss drunk and FUBAR, which as I look back now were some pretty hilarious scenarios. Went through some really shitty times right after that, which I guess might just be a notch above the thin red line that says ‘barely mentionable things’*.

The travel, which somehow seemed a lot more than it should have. The boredom and the stagnancy of a commute!

Well that’s all the verbosity I can afford for now!

Tchuss!

*Coming Soon.

Fun-Da-Mental

Just a small thought.

So, how do we understand or Learn a new idea. Basically, we have a set of fundamental ideas installed in our mind since the beginning of our learning process. The most basic I can think right now is numbers and alphabets and visual aids used for understanding, there is a deeper level of logic and reasoning that I shall not think about right now in order to not clutter up my neural connections!

So everything dissolves down to or is built from our basic predefined notions that are introduced to us through our learning. As we are exposed to a new concept or an idea, we would join two or more of our fundamentals in maybe a 'complex' (not necessarily) manner to form a new pattern of understanding. So as we are taught derived units are taken from a set of fundamental units!

So, what happens for example, when one of the fundamental concepts is unknown to us? Taking things in an algorithmic sense there would be a decision:
Option 1. Go back and build the fundamental.
Option 2. Derive the fundamental from its derived learning (if known)...which is kinda a paradox since we're going the other way around.

Now, Option 1 is the most reliable choice, but Option 2 is usually a choice in order to save time. Now Option 2 is risky, because it is the equivalent of 'assuming' a fundamental concept. But somehow it might be a new view point to look at something. And so after established our derived fundamental we would question its validity. Now this is the part which puts the 'fun' in fundamental... it mostly will lead to the actual fundamental or be somewhat close to it... or be an interesting but awkward theory which would probably sound like something out of a comic book.

But it would be a process that might lead to new concepts or a discovery. Now as we see in history, that’s how fundamentals are based. By observing a complex derived thing, breaking it down to fundamentals... and giving a cool name or probably your own name to a theory that you can explain!!

Reverse engineering?? hmmmm??

But still that doesn't make Option 1 obsolete in any way, it’s a classic right? And that's what my friend Tonmoy would be thinking... since he uses an awkward amalgamation of Options 1 and 2 which a lot of people may be at a loss for comprehension!
Now reading this a time after reading it, it looks like a bunch or rand words... much like William Burroughs Cut up technique [link].

This post is dedicated to the "Concept-Man" and today’s Birthday Boy and a best friend, Tonmoy!!