Monday, January 30, 2012

Wandering around Paris alone has its ups and downs. The upside is being unfettered by the collective opinion of person(s) other than yourself on what to see and what to do - walk around, stop and stare at a small church tucked away in a corner or sitting down in a cafe staring at stunningly beautiful Parisian women. The downside is that eventually when your feet tire, your neck is sore from looking up at the stained glass and all the women have left you are left with nothing but your own thoughts. I have a slight problem with thoughts. Invariably, I always have some thoughts that keep running in loops - infinite loops. And, we all know that Linux is awesome - it can do infinite loops in five minutes. Sadly enough, my brain does not run on Linux - not yet.

One of those thoughts is this insane human desire to posses something - tangible objects or experiences. The harder it is to get them, the more is the drive to have them. Exactly what Twain was getting at when Tom Sawyer starts whitewashing the fence. What just makes this whole thing worse is when someone you know well has object X or experience Y chooses to constantly rub the lack of X or Y in your face. In ways that are sometime obvious and in ways that are sometime disguised. Their sense of disguised being standing in front of an A380 with a broken wing and holding their arm out hoping it will draw away attention. Bah!

In my particular train of thought I realized that in most cases the "rubbing it in your face" is done on purpose. For lack of anything better to do. So much so that X and Y could be things that normally you would preen off to others, but people will try to wrap all that under psychological hogwash filtered and cast into positivity using third-hand misinterpreted Freudian theories. The kind people who say "Fre-yood".

I have this deep desire to stand such people in my life in a line and rail them. Or worse - use the gauntlet. Die, fuckers, die!

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Pop goes the planning

You sit and think about doing something. You write it down in painful detail - an explanation meant to demystify it for people who will work on it with you. Then, two days later, you see an article on your RSS feed that has the same (or a very similar idea) which is up and running. And, they got a few million in funding.

Feels just like spending the entire evening over dinner telling that girl how nice and awesome she is, pay for the dinner and all, the when the time comes...

"No no...it's ok. Don't worry, my boyfriend will come pick me up in a few minutes. I just messaged him."

That is when that massive 'L' neon glowing on top of your head falls on you.

Bah!

Friday, January 20, 2012

Bitter truths

A small list of clarifications.

1. Just because I live in Europe - and that too, southern Europe, in Italy and in Pisa which a university town - does not mean that I have scores and scores of pretty Italian women friends whom I hit on, hang out with or date. Despite what you might have heard of exoticness of the Orient and blah, the chances of someone finding you interesting is just as bad or good as in the normal case. Also, remember you are the wrong color.

2. Learning Italian is not a breeze. And, to do aforementioned step 1, you need to know enough Italian to sustain conversation. Additionally, there is always a better Italian speaking Italian or European than you. Your chances are slim. Friends you see with European girlfriends are not the norms, they are the exception. They found a girl who speaks English. Think of them as the sample population on the right side of the bell-curve. Both your friend and that girl. In this case two probabilities - both lesser than 1, get multiplied. It is much much smaller now. You are in the middle of the curve, possibly even on the left. Accept it and move the fuck on. Don't tell me otherwise - about you or about me. I know I am on the left, thank you very much.

3. Living in Europe does not mean you party every weekend/month. It isn't cheap. A drink in a bar ranges starts from 3 euros. Can go up to obnoxiously high rates. It is quite hard to find a Garuda/Sharad/Denny's equivalent in Europe. If you do find one and go in, chances of you coming out intact are quite slim. On more counts than one.

4. Continuing on (3). Partying alone is not partying. If you think you can party alone, then you need to sit down and examine your life. I live in a university town. Mostly filled with students who can't speak English. On shoestring budgets. Wary of foreigners from the Orient. Europeans, as such, are not like Indians. In India you can go to a noisy pub and possibly find company. In Europe if you speak the local language you can. Maybe.

5. Just because I have a Schengen visa/stay permit does not mean I will travel to every damn place that I can in Europe. It costs money and quite a bit. No, I don't get paid a lot. Traveling alone is not as awesome as you think. Once, twice, maybe, thrice. After that it becomes a pain. Do not compare your annual alone trip to traveling alone in Europe. You come back to your city to a large circle of friends and do all other trips in groups. Traveling alone for you is a novelty. For me, it is a painful regular reality. If you really want to try it out and know enough of C/C++ programming, I can help you get this position I have and you can try. Tell me six months later how it feels.

6. If your friends who are doing an MBA or a Master's/PhD. in Europe are posting pictures of partying and so on, understand that in a International MBA program everyone speaks reasonably fluent English. And they probably live in Northern Europe or Scandinavia. Or at least in a big city. Pisa is small - terribly so. I can walk from one end to another in about a couple of hours.

7. Someone came and told you about how they made out or what not when they were in Europe. How awesome it was. 80% of those possibly paid by the hour for it. The remaining 20% got terribly lucky. It's called the Pareto principle, I think. Read it up. You have a high possibility of being in the 80%. I know I am in the 80% in theory and practically nowhere in the picture. Or they are all lying about it. Following it up with a, "But, you should ask your friend to hook you up..." is as silly as you can make a statement. I suggest frontal cranial lobotomy for you. Very small chance that your friends will set you up - here or back home. Mine, most certainly, don't. If you have friends who help you that way, do let me know. I will friend them on Facebook. Further, Farhan Akthar's escapade in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara is an ideal case described in books. It is just that - a description. Plus, it is Farhan Akthar. I do not look like Farhan Akthar. The easiest way to get me to kill you is to cite this as an example.

Now that I have explained some of the things that I have been asked about over the past 10 months or so, please for heaven's sake stop asking about it. If you have lived in a situation similar to mine for a sustained period of time and have had a significantly different experience, then I'd like to learn how do you did it. If you stay abroad has been limited to a 10-day or a month-long trip with friends or to a place where you already have a bunch of friends then please do not tell me how I am doing stuff wrong. And, if you haven't lived outside of India and tell me I could do this and that and whatnot, please, stuff it! Do it and then tell me about it. I have twenty times more hypothetical things I can tell you about and make you feel like a worm.

Thank you for patience. We hope you enjoyed the flight and look forward to business from you again.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

The present

We are but a speck of dust in the universe, but today I realized that, in reality, that the insignificance was severely understated.