A Politician of Note

The world’s reeking of them and most of them are fat to the extent that if you gathered them altogether on one side of the planet and made them all jump at the same time it would make a difference to the orbit of the Earth. Many think of them as filthy or creepy, or self-serving. Many think of them as rather smart to be able to get around strict political laws and regulations and counter-corruption. Me, I don’t care.

I’ve given up hope in politicians and national welfare and the whole handy-dandy ‘All for one, one for all’ thing. This is in fact a fitting place to add that ‘They don’t make ‘em like they used to.’. The politicians of the past, a mere 40 years back, a nothingth of the planet’s age, were men of honor. Men of dignity. Men of Courage. But most of all, they were men. Not self-serving and violent animals. Abraham Lincoln, Charles DeGaule and the like. But the one person who has affected me the most, more than any of the other great politicians and more than his peers is the man who fought a long, long war of independence and lived to become the first Prime minister of India.

What awes me the most out of his many, many fascinating traits was the vastness of his mental horizon, the infinite nature of his wisdom, his limitless hunger for knowledge. What made me his fan and gave me much insight on his life is a series of letters he wrote to his daughter while he was in prison. Hundreds of letters about the history of the world and life in general. While most of us stop and curse history after learning the superficial attributes of our respective nations’ pasts, his writings have shown me that he knew about more worlds than one would care to acquire knowledge about. He studied because he loved it and I consider that to be one of his most beautiful teachings. A lesson taught through action.

Spider Engineers

While I was still young and naive, somewhere in the third grade - What can I say? I blossomed late. - and had the beginnings of one weird and rampant imagination, I thought excessively of what the internet was, is. Not that I new much about it, or indeed had even seen any of it. We had dial up connection and paid a fortune on the hour. All I did was hear and play the preschool games I came to love so dearly when I was in preschool. Often the two happened simultaneously. The playing and the hearing when I was too busy playing to actually imagine. But on the rare occasion when I heard while doing my homework (incorrectly), I let my mind fly away to happier places.

So one day while I was busy doing my math homework, multiplication I think, someone mentioned a website on the computer, might have been my father, might have been the uncle who never visited, whatever. And WHAZZAM. My unsteady head flew to websites, or rather web-sites. Figuratively, of course. I thought of webs, nasty white pieces of string featured in a wonderfully gruesome illustration somewhere in between the covers of my environmental sciences text book. Then I thought of spiders, nasty creatures who somehow found immense pleasure in hanging themselves vertically on a thoroughly complicated array of strings that they manufactured out of things that came out of their bottom, while covered in things that came out of their bottom. Then I remember shuddering at the thought of being covered in things that came out of my bottom. Then I went to the toilet, where I continued my line of thought. Sites, I had learned in school that they build buildings on sites and judging by my IQ at the time, I probably also thought that engineers build buildings. Because I found a deep correlation between engineers and sites. I flushed.

I therefore concluded that spiders were planning on building a web, for which my computer monitor would be the site. I was horrified. Not so much of the fact that there were spiders in proximity, but of the idea that they were engineers too! Engineers are poisonous right? And spiders are smart?? Or something like that. So I scoured the house for Spider Engineers, or as I had coined them in a brief moment of personal victory, Spingeneers. But there were none to be found.

Strangely disappointed, I washed my hands.

A Contemplation Upon Nature

Just walking on the streets of Calcutta and then lying on the terrace of my house:


As the sun shines down on me through the trees,
I thank nature
For all she has done to protect her creation
For shielding me from that wonderful monster's full intensity
Even in this metropolis who thinks he does the same
With his towers and hoardings and 'Eco-construction'
But fails to see in his vanity the intricacy of her work,
So serene, so effortless, so pleasing
Which he cannot hope to replicate with rocks
Even those cut.

Now the night is upon me, humid not hot.
Again nature awes me with pleasant winds,
The clouds arranged in a magnificent arc
Moving with the might and velocity of a Pegasus
Like the creator trying to sooth from this weather he created
By waving his beard over Earth.
I sit up but this time the city lights in their full glare,
Hurt my eyes to sooth me from humidity
And I realize I have a question.
'Why does the moonlight not strain the eye?'.
She knows her ways. Again, I thank her.

Algorithms

Scared yet?

Disclaimer:

You probably should be if you're not 9 yet. Quite simply because the word has more letters than the number of times you've been around the sun all your life. This belief is precisely the reason for me not opting to be a Biologist or a Geologist because I'm not supposed to know what the word 'Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis' means until I'm 45 or a Hippie for that matter considering 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious' although it would make a viable career option once I turn 34. However if you're not yet 9 or traumatized and know what 'traumatized' means, read on.

Now that we're done with that, an Algorithm is simply a series of steps that you can repeat several times or less in order to solve a problem. It has massive application In the fields of Computer Sciences, Engineering, Mathematics, basically in order to solve any logical problem and several illogical ones.

I like to classify them into 3 types:

Infinite

Repetitive

Processes

Note: Mathematics does not classify Algorithms.

Infinite Algorithms are ones that give a different result every time you undergo the series of steps. Basic mathematical operations can be examples of infinite algorithms. Suppose you have 2 integers a and b. To add the algorithm is to add 1 to a which becomes the new a. And to repeat this b times. Similarly to multiply add a to itself which becomes the new a and to repeat that b times. Similar algorithms can be created for Subtraction and Division.

Repetitive Algorithms are ones which eventually on repeating again and again do return to the initial configuration of the problem but the problem often gets solved somewhere therein if the algorithm is right. If I were to form a circle of a certain arc, my objective is to smoothly transition from one arc to another until I form the circle I return to the point from where I start. Though not to the original condition. Some cases where I do reach the initial conditions come, maybe when I solve the Rubik's cube.

Lastly, the Process. It's a series of steps that you design in order to achieve an objective but this time, there's a procedure. An array of yes or no questions and each choice has a different step you have to follow. Like designing a flow chart. Eg:

Algorithms have several uses especially in fields of Computer Sciences, Logistics. But you can basically use them for anything else. They can be broad and narrow and basically however you want them to.

I'm bored now. Best of luck.

A Secret Place

Thank you 'The Little Prince' for the idea. I was reading it and this little composition popped into my head:


And then a drop will slide by,
Heading steadily away from the eye,
But with one swift motion your emotion you will spread,
Punishing it for the path it tred,
It gave you away, your courage is now shame,
But how much longer could your sentiment remain tame?

Your oculus - blood red you cannot conceal,
While the occasional glance you unstealthily steal,
With a smile on your face and a fire on the inside,
Desperately, carelessly looking for someplace to hide,
You let flow a stream, You pray nobody hears,
A secret place, The land of tears.