Thursday, April 21, 2016

Morning Montpellier

This morning was the longest and more tiring of any recent ones. It was imagined as a simple traverse, which turned to be a complex one. So, miscalculation, to yield a load of things to tell about the morning. I should've known better, but now I do.

The morning had an early start. This organism was up at 5AM, and active in chaos. Sometimes the self decides to respect the alarm, that roosts at several times in the morning. "You snooze, you lose", is my motto, on 1 of every 5 mornings, like today.

Such mornings are seen as a serendipitous occasion to venture out on a planned route, instead of the usual quickie route (either side). "Planned" = having been thought of or aspired of before but not done this far. The plan for this traverse wasn't new. It had been on my mind since forever. Only today, after years, on a serendipitous morning, with no greater aims, that it happened.

The start, however, didn't happen for almost an hour since being up. It took the sapient self a long while to prepare itself to go out; work itself to get out. And the "plan" wasn't yet under consideration until I was out. So, it happened spontaneously. The same way sleep gets me.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Nature's Kleptomaniacs

Yesterday I came across a mean scene - of the big profiting off the efforts of the small. It was a scene in the insect world, best seen with a magnifying glass. It introduced me to a term I didn't know before - Kleptoparasitism.

A file of ants moved on a (pheromone) trail across the bench ('meen') in the frontyard, some of them carrying food. They didn't realize they were being 'watched'. A gang of house flies, each positioned a coupla feet apart from each other along the ant trail, stood watching, in stillness. When an ant with food got close, the fly would get animated, and start "stalking" the ant. In short hops and skips, it (the fly) would block the ant's march, and repeatedly do so, until the ant got startled, tired, isolated, and wandered off-course.  Then it would attempt grabbing the food, jabbing the food with its proboscis, and a short tug-of-war would ensue - the battle of the proboscis (fly) vs the pedipalps (ants). 

The tug would span over multiple wounds until one gave up. Mind you that the ants, though small, are very strong, and it is not so easy for the flies. In the four incidents I observed, the split was 50-50. In one incident, where the ant won, the fly tried thrice, but failed.

Some flies are kleptoparasites, this being especially common in the subfamily Miltogramminae of the family Sarcophagidae. Some adult milichiids, for example, visit spider webs where they scavenge on half-eatenstink bugs. Others are associated with robber flies (Asilidae), or Crematogasterants.[7] Flies in the genus Bengalia (Calliphoridae) steal food and pupae transported by ants and are often found beside their foraging trails.[8] 

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Feeding the Frog and Hopping the Dog

The night extended into a morning food delivery job. I served leftover bread (roti/chapati) to the dogs under the Defcol flyover. Then my eyes fell on a park so nice, that I was pulled into its mystical complex.

To put it less cryptic words, a morning run ensued - one after a long break. I was hitting menopause, you see. Now I am purged of urges and can continue my life as a normal 30-year-old guy. NOT. [ignore this para and read on]

The run came about after a previous day of intense sleeping. Some good, came in the way of sleep, and I hope others would agree. If not self-seeking, self-preservation drive was at display, which gives me a sense of inclusion with the human species. The tiring run also gives me a sense of inclusion, in the induced senselessness.

The run was long er than usual - 5 laps. Still a short distance, but less shorter, nonetheless, which is a minor upping over the olden days. Vanity to vanquish the valiant. The post-run interval comprised of a failure to find mulberry trees in the park complex, and a failure to pull to terminate the avian display this guy had put up. Final act of exist comprised of the lizard and the frog. What starts with the dog ends with the frog.

Science and the Self

From watching a documentary on dude of the day, Bronislaw Malinawski..

For all his attempts at scientific objectivity, Malinowsky was - like everyone of us, - a prisoner of his own time and culture, with all its prejudices.

This perception of Malinowsky came about his M's diaries were released. Indeed, he was a person different from his science, and somewhat conformist to his society, not in forward, but in regressive thought which united him with the prevalent cultural notions (or more specifically, to the negatives contained therein).

That psychological sciences followed, and proved it so, only gives a credence to his psyche as one derived from socio-cultural experiences, which saw it detached from the findings it was making later on in life. The detachment of M is clear in the state of selective focusing on the abject or the profane his psyche often resorted to, despite deducing and reforming from active experience. He could be possessed by the same "demons" as the tribes eschwed, and in a guilt over not being able to exorcise them as effectively, which I believe wasn't helped by a closed "aristrocratic" (which he so aspired to meet) Victorian society.

Now, a read of "A Diary in the Strict Sense of the Term" ensues. It seems available in the public domain.

Monday, April 11, 2016

Negative Traits in Self



The diagnosis and prognosis of an epidemic called procrastination. I totally endorse - no entrepreneurial leaps, no creative leaps, no professional normality, and much more. Studies and exg has been on hold since 2008.

Also, here are some phrases defining languor, a word a pal used to describe.
a state of the body or mind caused by exhaustion or disease and characterized by a languid feeling: lassitude
listless indolence; dreaminess
dullness, sluggishness; lack of vigor; stagnation
I totally endorse his opinion, too. Love the word. shithiltaa (stillness, in the sense of सुस्ती) in Hindi comes close.

Sunday, April 03, 2016

Lines to wish a good start to days this summer

The river glideth in a secret tongue
And doth flow deep the summer long. 
The slow day's celebration spins
Its line about all scenes, and man
Reflects the length of time 

We keep meandering along sensing each flavor - each secret - that the tongue ever tasted.
So far it seems to be going good, in that I have been gliding all this day.

Need a new Gilgit guy

Fata Morgana, this Sunday, illusory and novel issues abound. As random as anybody could imagine.
And currently on a nervy note. I have been blessed to get a jerk of a flatmate who has eschwed the issue at hand - of his excess consumption of power in the summer months, which will have me either displace myself or pay for my pride which being broke doesn't help. How smart people get in their living, and shun anything else but that - the smarts. I have now tuned into music for immediate relief, and this. He has made me lose respect for the region where he claims to be, and I need somebody else to gladly endorse and brag about.

Here's a me for a few next few moments - ascertaining various damages, running a few conversations, the satisfaction of harm, the human tendency/art of circumnavigation, the need for informally-signed room-mate agreements, Dante Alighieri, and the outdoors. I think the last thought is what broke me out of the regressive and extensive perspectival trails that the recent chaos created.
A landslide, so mortal I feel, so unsettled. Need to disconnect myself, as the song says.

Funny promises being made on the road

Last night was a different experience. I visited Gurgaon, the satellite town, and the left hand of Delhi, but that's not it.

My bike ran outta fuel. Luck had it happen very close to where I wanted to end up, or it would've ended as a serious chapter of struggle. But another variety of that luck (or other extreme?) had me crowded between a dozen "ladies of the night" - these ladies, out for their business of prostitution, escorted by their autorickshaw (hereafter "ricks") driver-cum-pimp. There were about 4 or 5 of such Ricks plying back-and-forth between the MG Metro Station and the U-turn (a coupla turns ahead).

It was only when I was solicited in the middle of my personal crisis with the bike (Oh how I have been gifted with miscalculation and how Gurgaon has greeted me to remind of that). I was breaking into a sweat, and was starting to enjoy the march forward looking grumbly, when a pretty lady came riding close, in the Ricks, and broke into banter "aaja main dhakka dekar le chalti hoooon" (let me push). Certainly, in this part of the world, we do work that way; Delhi has several auto-limb-powered vehicles plying in off-peak hours - carts being pushed by a leg sticking out from a bike, rickshaws being pushed  by a leg sticking out from a bike, bikes being pushed by a leg sticking from on a bike, bikes being pushed  by a leg sticking out from a Rick, Ricks being pushed  by a leg sticking out from a Rick.

She was a fat woman - the fattest of the three in the Rick, - wearing something golden, and clearly the most confident of the three as well, with a seeming-penchant to find fat wallets through conversations and do the bidding for the skin. "Could I at least ask her to get me petrol," I asked to myself. (Her banter had gone askew in intention, I later reflected. ) Before I could answer the question, they scooted ahead.

Later I walked into them was when three of their Ricks had crowded shortly ahead of where my bike was parked when I walked across to the ATM and got meself some money. When I resumed, it was with walking into a situation where I was jammed in a conversation among the ladies. They were talking about which guys seem to be hanging around tonight. Apparently, they don't make it easy.
Last I came "across" (went past) them, was with a Rick at a deal. It was the same golden girl sticking her head out doing a crass seductive accent. The protocol goes - come about, go slow, approach glammy girls in glammy autos mobile in a shady manner, confirm and find a good deal, fix a deal, and... I didn't get to see the last part. Some mystery I'd rarely bother to pursue.

re-entry


Complain and arraign me; I got nothing to escape the guilt of inactivity on this platform. I thought that what the world wished someone would tell them has now been said - but, apparently, NOT. I will try to say more, rather absurdly, reflecting and opinionating on things from a personal (sometimes, skewed) perspective, and put it all out there again. The ghost that walks/treks is again at prowl.
If you are reading this, you are probably way off your life goals.