Obsessions

My recent obsession for various skills, I think is improving my overall performance as a ‘HUMAN’.

When I was young, and in High School, a teacher said something in Bengali…

“Je joto kom boyoshe nesha kore, Se toto paka Nesharu hoi”

It literally means, the more young one gets addicted to something, becomes more expert addicts. I don’t remember in what context he said that, but I recall this words very often these days, when someone says that they need more time and knowledge to do something and they cannot do it right then. The more we get obsessed with something, the more perfect we become. And perfection is necessary! And the early we do, the easier it is for us. Stuffs might appear difficult or impossible, but we can pull it off if is not drastically advanced. Like when I learned how to program a computer with BASIC, I knew I had a lot of power, but I couldn’t even form the simplest algorithms. I was in sixth grade at that time. Eventually I learned more programming languages, and learned to use more libraries. I am no super-duper programmer, and I am still trying to get into a open-source project, but I am starting to realize the abstract nature of programming, which I prefer to call, “The Zen of Programming”. These days, as a electronics engineering student, I sometimes try to hurry to some topic. I do find it difficult, but I believe I will eventually pull it off. It reminds me of the days, when I played Enigma and Pink Floyd in cassette player, and slept with the BASIC FOR SCHOOLS book under my pillow. Electronics is pretty new to me, and I am somewhat new to electronics. And the philosophy of the discipline is very much different than what I learned few years back as a kid.

Since recently I am trying to perfect my hand for drawing human figures and mechanical designs, improving my mathematical skills to for computationally advanced stuff, trying to get my photography skills to a significant state, dreaming of becoming a Good Adventurer and Mountaineer, getting a good skill for designing electromechanical and electronic stuff, and expanding my knowledge to as much as I can and getting a clear understanding of SCIENCE.

This is FUN!

Project Euler Problem 7

That is the problem I chose to start with, while participating in Project Euler. You can have a go at http://projecteuler.net

That is where I started to help me cure myseld of my ADHD (Recently I think I have ADHD). That stands for Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder. As I am seeing my life through my eyes, I find the symptoms inside me.

It happens when you switch very rapidly. And Wikipedia says that it also has a strong genetic component.

I switch subjects very rapidly. Like, few days, I am with micro controller programming, then few days with number theory and then few days with cryptography. This is not very healthy for our brain. I think I need to stop multitasking, and get things done one-by-one.

Or I might have more severe ADHD. Actually I came to know it, when I started reading The Last Theorem by Arthur C. Clarke. Ranjit Subramanian had this disorder as his friend Gamini pointed out in the novel.

Anyway, I solved this problem 7; The 10001th prime number is 104743. I made a program to solve the problem. I really liked the nature of this problem.

I give the Python code below.

http://drop.io/byvmgs9

The code, a very simple one, suggested by Ranjit Subramanian in the novel.

It took a few minutes to find the 10001th prime on my PC. I am sure there are more less resource hungry algorithms, my next quest is to find another more efficient one.

The novel is bit unworthy for grown up readers I think; The plot is a bit childish. But it has a lot of talk inside, that is what I really liked about the novel. And for a layman, it is very healthy (For his/her brain of course).

Right now, I will be desiging a logo for my deviantART userpage.

Go visit: http://rivalslayer.deviantart.com

Thanks!

Learning and lost

Again, I am going to blow this thing out. I recently read in Scientific American that Blogging has it’s own therapeutic values. “Great”, I think. I am receiving that therapy pretty easily, without knowing. I think I learn from experience, I really cannot learn from somebody, if only he tells me that. I realize now; standing on the edge of breaking myself, I have to play harder, I had to play harder! I didn’t. And, the net result, “A very important person lost trust in me…”, I don’t blame him of course, I cannot, as it was me who couldn’t qualify in IITJEE. And now when I just shout out “I going for SAT”, obviously most of the people will consider me MAD. Maybe I am MAD, but I know that I learned, though a bit late. I really learned from life. I visited IACS for a summer school, there they reignited my soul for science; and now after the declaration of the results, I am lost again. They are saying, “You have be a good academic to get a considerable position in Science, and your past academics is really dull”. I know that, but I cannot tell them that I learned. If I am all wrong, that I didn’t learn this time too, then what is the meaning of life to me. I need not to live anymore, as I will never learn, I will go down down and down, and ultimately… and if this is the situation, then I can try the hard way, I am in no hurry for dying!

I am getting a bit depressed I think. And I really am very very confused, blogging a kind of precious hobby to me, I just cherish the thought that someone will read, and give me some words of wisdom.

And amidst all these thoughts, the girl is fading away, just as Physics is fading aways from my life, my mind and my soul. Both of those entities are important to me, Physics and SHE, BOTH! But both are getting out of my hands, I cannot impress her, I cannot do physics. What am I worth? Dammit!?

Envy

I do envy a boy, who gets all the things he wants, from an Intel Core 2 Quad powered PC to a XBOX 360 and Nokia N91, all at the expense of his father. His father half reluctantly goes to the shop with him and buys him the things. Me? A new PC last year was enough.

I do envy a guy, who can write great blogs, with all the feelings pouring from the web page. He have acquired the skill to write beautifully. Me? Sometimes I try to imitate his style, after a few tries I press the power button on my keyboard, and get sad as I am unable to write good blogs.

I do envy a classmate, who has awesome handwriting. He impresses all the teachers with his handwriting. Me? I write and I write, but can’t get near his quality.

I do envy another boy, who is great at his studies. No subject is difficult for him. He studies and gets high grades. Me? I spend a lot of hours at my table, in front of my books, but can’t near his perfection.

I do envy a photographer who is great at attracting eyes with his photos. Me? Capturing photos always makes me jealous of him.

I do envy a friend who can paint well. Me? When I am painting, I tend to throw my brush in anger, I can’t paint like him.

There is a kid in my school, who is great at bicycling, when I am trying to imitate his style of hand less bicycling I get make an accident, Damn! that kid.

And…

Those who cannot get a square meal at the end of the day, those who cannot get the opportunity study in schools, those who doesn’t get nice clothes on festive seasons, those who cannot have a roof over their heads envy me, as I get a square meal everyday, I get nice clothes every festive, I have a study in school, I have a nice room and blankets to sleep in winter.

I am standing, I do envy and I get envied.

Surprise…

When I return from my school, I get a bit tired. I ride my bicycle fast so that I can reach home soon. My friends sometimes aggravates me and ask why I am so eager to go home. I don’t like to answer. It’s just that I like seat in front of my PC, it is so much comfortable. And I also get eager to get a chance to surf the net(I consider myself lucky that I can surf the net from the comfort of my home, most boys don’t have such luck in my locality), and as Jerome K. Jerome puts it, “It’s my energetic nature, I can’t help it.” I have a study room. Most of the time in a day, I spend there, I like to be among books, though I don’t study much. When I return from my school and go to that room to put my heavy bag down, I get a surprise. I find something good on my table, sometimes it is a chocolate bar, sometimes it is a packet of special biscuits, sometimes it is a cake, or anything nice and edible. I assume my uncle brings those things for me but not to give those to me directly. Almost everyday, when I am in school, he puts those things on my table. I think it is a pleasure my uncle finds in such secretive act. The pleasure of making someone happy without being known.

Indeed it is one of the rarest pleasures.

Poems are…!

When someone write poems, what do they think about?

If I am not wrong poems nowadays are meant to be the expression of emotions of one’s mind. But why does the poet want to share his feeling? Are the feelings of one is good to the others? I heard that cows milk is not totally good for us. Why? Just because it’s cows milk. Only human milk is purely good for humans (Yes, that’s mothers milk). It’s a fact that, a driver of a certain device of a PC won’t work with other drivers. Just because the driver is made for a particular device. Just as their is no universal milk, no universal drivers, there is no universal feelings or emotions. Someone’s mind cannot be compatible with other’s emotions. Then why poem?

It’s sometimes true that, when we share feelings, we feel a lot lighter, but does that need a medium like poem? It’s also true that when we read poems similar to our own feelings, we feel happy. But does such expression need the obscure twisted lingual medium of poems. Isn’t ordinary everyday language enough for that?

If, all men and women in this world, start to read and write poems, with all the emotions boiling through the poems, can you imagine what will happen to this world! I think the average density of the earth will increase due to the increased weight of emotions.

Mathematical theorems are does sometimes has obscurity, but is does render the logical truth beautifully. As for poems; poems are like obscure ciphers which has to be decoded by the reader. But sometimes the encryption is too much heavy. To me it’s heavier than the Enigma Cipher. And therefore, I cannot find the beautiful truth in poems nowadays.

Sometimes, poems do inspire. Kazi Nazrul Islam inspired revolutions with his poems. He truly is a brave poet of our times. I admire him and his poems.

When I get a chance sit with poems, and try to decipher them. But I feel helpless. Controversy lingers in me. Whether the poem is necessary of not. I tend to be an anti-poemist. Sorry if someone is hurt to see an anti-poemist for the first time. Maybe my definition of poems are wrong. But does the definition of poem holds an essential part in the definition of arts?

Love and Friendship…

I remember the first time I fell in love. I was fourteen then. It was the most ordinary type of “falling”. I was sitting in a bus, she was walking on the pavement. My eyes met her, she looked away promptly and moved on. I kept starting at her, without blinking. I felt something special. that night, was the first sleepless night of my life.

*************

My first love was pretty much ordinary compared to my second love. She was a friend from kindergarten. After I went to high school, I lost contact with her. When I met her again, I was fifteen. I was riding my bicycle, she was walking on the street. Somehow, my bicycle almost struck her. She leaped to a side and frowned at me., She recognized me after a second. We started to chat. That day we walked together for a couple of hours recollecting the moments from our kindergarten. After we had parted, I thought, it would be better if I had noted her phone number. I wished to meet her again.

**************

My convention about interesting love changed after another year. I fell in love with someone again. We met each other in an outing. That was the first time I realized that it is possible for someone to be mad for her love. I was a bit younger then, and also a hell lot immature. I failed to keep my emotions away from her. I made a few assumptions, and calculated approximate probability of hearing, “Okay, I can continue with love”, from her. I was wrong (actually I didn’t know how to calculate probability at that time). And that made me real sad. I cried every night, thought of her all the time, and most foolishly, I told my problem to a friend (I consider that foolish because there was actually no reason for me to be sad)

**************

Everything comes to an end,as did my sadness. I fell in love the fourth time. And that time I was ready to commit to come relationship. After our first meeting, I came to know that she was affectionate for me too; that stirred me. I was very ready to expose my love to her.

We lost contact after we passed the secondary education. After a few months, I called her and talked with her for a while. But I didn’t feel any love for her.

**************

Time will fix everything, they say. I think they are right. I shivered in pain, cried in sorrow, I thought that I was so ugly, no one can ever like me; I was wrong. My fourth love could have been wonderful if I committed myself. But I withdrew. I now feel that it is very foolish to say, “We love each other so much”, instead we should say, “We are great friends, we share everything, and we help each other”

Current science says that love is about physical relations, and so, I think, if we are not eager about sex, friendship is lot more important. And friends of opposite sex can be better. Hey, don’t take me the wrong way, I am more honest that you think I am. (Just kidding)

What we all need is friends. Find a friend with whom you can share everything, from your everyday chores, to what you did in classroom. I at least try to share my life with my friends.

Last night…my thoughts…

Last night I was lying sleepless. I was in subconscious mode. I was conscious about the things I thought; it ranged from the first day in school, the fear of being out of parents’ vicinity, to the last day’s experienced at school, which involved some exciting classes. I was recollecting the creations I shared with my friends when I was a child. I used some junks to make my own toys. I used to write paragraphs, about anything that came into my mind. Most of those were about space. I liked the term “space” very much back then. I was amazed by the intricate beauty the space possessed. I also liked to play cricket, it was much fun back then, with all of my friends playing together. I drew a lot, anything, from village scenes to crashed aircraft.

I noticed that, with my age going up, I am leaving behind a few things which I thought I would never leave. Like writing paragraphs, I now write scarcely.

I  recollected a cartoon which I used to watch, “Dragon Ball Z”. It was an action cartoon, with all those big guys fighting a lot. Now, when I try to watch those, it doesn’t attract me a bit. I used to watch television. Now, I don’t even sit before the TV set for a minute.

All these recollections I made last night, made me think of one thing, am I leaving my childhood behind.

Density of peace

Sometimes you become aware of the thing you are thinking about. You sometimes sit in darkness, for you believe that the darkness will bring peace to you. You go to the river bank and sit alone, to be taken over by solitude. You go out in night, you look at the sky, and see Jupiter, looking at you with his singles Cycloptic brilliant eye. You become alert of your surroundings, you notice that some people is noticing you. You think yourself special; special in your thoughts. You watch the lights of the street cars, blinding you temporarily. You feel the density of peace.

The inside…

Ripping through the memories my mind is running wild across the whole inside. The thrill of this motion is rippling throughout the mental walls of my inner intelligence. The shock-wave is causing interference to the emission of ripples of my matrix of memory. My mind is ignoring those. The nuance of a happy recollection suddenly stopped my mind. My mind is weeping. In the farthest corner there lies the crystal of emotion. It is broken. The pieces are glowing faintly. The past brilliance is gone. My mind is still crying. The trauma broke down the crystal. My mind tried to defend the crystal of emotion, but failed.