Rummaging Through A Drawer

The printer had run out of ink. Actually it had enough black ink to print my document but it would not because it had run out of magenta ink. It has been a mystery to me why the color inks keep running out even though the bulk of the printing I do is just black and white. With some irritation at this thought, I started looking in the drawer for spare cartridges.

Have ever you searched for something in your cupboard and found all sorts of long lost or forgotten things except what you were looking for? Well, this drawer turned out to be a veritable museum. As I rummaged through the contents of the drawer, I felt like an archaeologist. A deep drawer hides more than it shows. History started to unfold before my eyes. 

After I pulled out the unused network and printer cables that had been just shoved into the drawer and had become annoyingly tangled, I got to the interesting things - an electronic rolodex that had not even been opened, a warranty card for a keyboard from Compusa, a user manual for an electronic organizer I never knew I had bought and which was not among those present, and several boxes of mini-disks with each disk capable of storing all of 1.44 MB of data but no longer capable of being read by my PC. Old receipts, and other odd documents like bank statements (the bank has changed name a few times since then having been sold to or swallowed by bigger banks) popped up. There was a receipt for old clothes and other items donated to Salvation Army with just the date '9/10' and a signature. I wondered which year that was for.

There were farewell cards from previous jobs. I could barely make out the signatures now and could not tell the names for some. Some I simply did not recall even though the names were clearly written. But it was good to read the appreciative messages and recall the details of the projects. 

The drawer continued to give out its bounty. A stack of old credit cards and store cards (many of the stores have now gone out of business) was neatly bundled by a rubber band. Next was a bag with chess pieces but I have no idea where the board went. Ditto for the scrabble tiles (why did I save just a handful of these?). Old reading glasses, regular pencils, mechanical pencils, pens that will not write any longer, erasers, etc. kept emerging. There was a stack of photographic paper which I think came with a printer I bought ages ago. A small appointments book for the year 2001 and a few maps had settled at the bottom. 

The final two things to be found in the drawer are a complete mystery to me - 'Sliding window roller no. G-3038' still in its package and a small device enclosed in a translucent green sleeve. I did not recall buying the former and it was probably there when I bought the house (the drawer is part of a built-in desk). The latter was totally intriguing and a little scary. It has the name of a company (I am not saying which!) on the outside with a web address under that. The actual device has a display window with two buttons ('MODE' and 'SET) beneath. What could this be? Should I put in the battery and see what it is? But I am afraid it may start something or transmit a signal to someone. I smell the beginning of a science fiction story here. And I did find a printer cartridge too but alas, it was not the right colour. I wonder if I can just use it in place of the magenta anyway.

As I contemplated the motley collection of objects, I was struck by something. I have been pushing  odds and ends into such drawers for years with the idea that you never know when they might be needed or may be without any idea. I think this process is not different from the way things are stored in my memory. 

The drawers of memory banks are vast and bottomless. There must be plenty of things taking up space there and cluttering my mind - all sorts of trivia, some useful perhaps but never recallable when needed, feelings of all kind which exist mostly as vague impressions but some still capable of stirring me if remembered, and so on. A good deal of these were not saved consciously I am sure. And they can surface again under appropriate conditions. Who knows what memories may be triggered by a dive into a cupboard or a drawer?

I wish I could rummage through the drawers of my mind like the ones in my desk. It will probably be a good thing to clean them up now and then. I am excited and apprehensive about what I will find there. Dare I stir them? Some things are locked away perhaps because they are unpleasant and better left alone. The mind is known to do that to keep us sane I am told. 

Take this past year. I am sure many of us would like to send 2020 to a deep and dark corner of our memories. About this time in 2019, we were looking forward to a great year. If only we had had 20/20 vision into the future! Who would have guessed that walking into a bank with face masks would become a normal thing in 2020? Things that we take for granted have to be carefully planned or even avoided now. Working in a normal office setting seems like a remote possibility for the time being. It has also been a difficult time for all and many have lost loved ones. Just the other day a classmate and dear friend of mine succumbed to Covid-19. 

Years hence, when some future drawer cleaning brings 2020 back, it is not going to be recalled with nostalgia but with dread and pain. But with the vaccines for Covid arriving, it is safe to say that we will say goodbye to 2020 with a certain relief and with reason to hope for good tidings in the coming year. And on that optimistic note, let me end this post.

Here's wishing you all pleasant memories and uncluttered drawers! Happy New Year! 

Garden Delight

I did it! I had been wanting to do this for quite some time now. Finally, I terminated the services of my long time gardener. When I say 'gardener', I use the term loosely. I paid him a monthly fee to come and tend to the yard - mow the lawn and generally tidy up. I don't think he actually knew anything about the plants and trees in the yard. Pushing around a lawn mower and the ability to use the trimmer and weed whacker do not constitute real gardening skills. He was an accidental gardener. For all I know, he might have been an accountant or a teacher in Vietnam before he migrated. But the steep learning curve in mastering the English language probably made it difficult to enter those kinds of jobs. At least that's my theory.

I did not actually hire this man in case you are wondering about that. The one that I had before him took on a job with a landscaping company and brought him on as a replacement. You may ask why I kept him on for so long. I confess I didn't have the heart to fire him. Actually, I quite liked the man. He was a genial person with a broad smile all the time. A most cheerful man, I would say. The problem was that my amazing facility with English (!) was of no use when trying to explain to him what I needed done. I could never be sure what he would end up doing. Even with this severe limitation, things might have been alright if he was an accomplished gardener. As I mentioned before, he was not. 

He had a firm belief that any plant that had managed to reach a certain threshold height had earned the right to keep growing. As a result, many a weed managed to gain a foothold in my yard. Ivy has taken over much of the ground under the fruit trees and has started to climb them. He even fertilized a patch that looked green but was just full of weeds after a good spell of rain. I had to turn off the water to that area to keep them from flourishing but they are still going strong. After all, this is their native territory and the plants that we try to grow are really the intruders.

I used to devote some time to the care of the plants and did succeed in my efforts to an extent. But over the last few years, I had been really busy with work and had neglected the garden. I noticed that the rose bushes had stopped looking like bushes and had few or no flowers during the last couple of years. Those that put out a lot of new growth did not produce flowers. I don't want to bore you with details but grafted roses may put out new canes or branches called suckers (follow this link if you are curious about this) which typically will not produce blooms. The growth I was looking at was from suckers which, I am sure, the gardener had failed to remove no doubt because they looked so healthy. 

My mother used to be quite interested in gardening. My father would get transferred every two or three years, and so we lived in rented houses. These usually had some fruit trees and a coconut palm or two. My mother would plant a vegetable garden if a decent patch of earth was available. It was fun to watch the different vegetable as they came up - brinjal (eggplant), ladies' fingers (okra), beans, etc. There were gourd varieties too - some growing on the ground, others requiring a trellis or a little pandal. The snake gourd had to be weighted with a little stone to keep it growing straight. It was a daily ritual to measure its length or count the other vegetables but we were told not to do that as that invited the evil eye and could stunt the growth. 

Evil eye was not the only danger to ward off. The house usually had a compound wall or fence and a gate to keep the stray cattle out. Occasionally someone would forget to close the gate and a stray cow or goat would get in and eat the plants much to our consternation. The plants were also vulnerable to pests. We used to apply fertilizer and pesticide from time to time but I remember that these were always the organic kind. I don't recall ever using any chemicals.

The obvious payoff of course was the ability to harvest and enjoy the vegetables and share some with neighbours but just seeing the plants come up and flourish was exciting and satisfying. When we moved, there was a tinge of sadness in leaving behind a garden. Usually we moved during summer when the garden had not been planted. One time we had to move just as the plants were in full bloom and about to set fruit. This was very disappointing to all of us but especially to my mother. She talked about it for months after we moved. I can still recall the long row of brinjal plants with beautiful  purple flowers we left behind.

I think my mother's enthusiasm rubbed off on me to some extent. But I certainly don't have the dedication she had. I generally stick to perennials which would bloom year after year while requiring minimal care. I hired a gardener to take care of the lawn, the sprinklers, etc. as I did not want to invest in all the equipment needed and take on their maintenance. As for vegetables, I was not ready to commit to the time and effort they require. After spotting a couple of bunnies cavorting in the yard, I decided that it would be too difficult anyway to keep the plants from being eaten by them. But I am glad that I planted some fruit trees such as this pomegranate which have been giving us their bounty faithfully every year. 

All in all, I have been satisfied with the whole experience. Except now, all of a sudden, I have been rudely awakened to the deterioration even though it has been going on under my very nose for quite a while. The perennials have withered over the years, the roses have become scraggy or bloomless, and the lawn  is either bare or overgrown with weeds. I wistfully recall the purple and red fuchsia that I used to have in the front yard. It is time to focus my efforts once again on the yard. The first thing to do of course was to replace the gardener. With a heavy heart, I told him that I no longer needed his services. The new gardener seems knowledgeable and I am hoping that I will soon have a colourful garden again. 

On the Death of A Fan

A jarring note had crept into the usual soothing monotone of the fan. This is usually the first sign in the decline and death of the fan. I knew where this was headed. After the noise comes hesitancy to start. At this stage, you can coax it into action by giving the blades a push in the right direction. Soon, though, the fan is ready to give up the ghost and eventually stops working. 

My experience with table fans and pedestal fans over the years has been disappointing. They just don't build them like they used to before. This is true of appliances in general in my experience. They are increasingly more complicated with all kinds of intelligence built into them but in terms of ruggedness they have regressed. Or maybe because of their sophistication they have become more delicate. Just like us human beings, I think.

We may have once upon a time roamed the open forests and lived in caves in the company of all of God's creatures but I cannot imagine that any more. The shelter of the house is very reassuring to us. Many many years ago, I did go camping a few times but now creature comforts have taken over and my body rebels at the very thought. I love the protection I get from the elements and the critters. Nature is beautiful no doubt but we human beings somehow consider ourselves separate.

At the same time, we still need the light, the air and all that nature gives us freely except now we have to make special provisions to keep us ventilated and lit inside the shelter. We open the windows and let the air in but keep those screens in place so that the bugs stay out. We go into full fight or flight (more fight) mode when we spot an unwelcome insect inside the house. We let light flood through the windows but are ready to close the blinds lest it gets too hot. Then we need to turn on the air-conditioner to cool the house. When we walk outside we have to cover our head and eyes with a hat, wear shoes and sun glasses. We may need to apply sunscreen to protect our skin. We feel fragile and fear the elements. But I digress.

To return to the fan, I grew up with ceiling fans which ruled and still rules the homes in India. They were powerful and created a mini hurricane. This was essential to keep the mosquitoes at bay but the noise also helped to lull us to sleep. They were extremely reliable and seemed to last forever. Funnily enough, I remember that the fans over time developed noise individual patterns all their own, a sort of fingerprint. I distinctly remember the very comforting tone of one such fan from my grandfather's house. Combined with a blue night light, it transformed the room into a sanctuary. 

In older houses, especially in rural areas, the ceilings were really low precluding the use of ceiling fans. I remember one vintage table fan from my visits to the village. The construction was all metal and quite solid but over time the fan had developed a rattle and produced as much noise as a plane's engine. Appropriately, it had also acquired a tendency to fly off the table and hence had to be tied down with a jute string or you would find yourself in the embrace of the fan in the night. It needed to be cranked manually to get it started but once the blades got going, they did continue to turn and move the air. 

In the US, ceiling fans are mostly ornamental although they are increasingly becoming more functional. They are usually combined with a chandelier or some decorative lighting and have two chains hanging to control them. You pull the chain and the fan starts. You pull again to change the speed but just a little. It never seems to get up to a point where there is significant movement of air. Since the chain can only be pulled in one direction, it is annoying how many times you have to keep pulling it to stop the fan. And you have to wait till it actually stops to be sure that you have turned it off. The chains are somewhat flimsy and it is not uncommon for them to break. But they come with remote controls now which help as long as you keep them powered with batteries. Remote controls also have the habit of getting lost between cushions on the sofa and other nooks. So they now come with a holder that can be fixed to the wall. That sort of defeats the whole idea of remote control though.

My house is not wired for ceiling fans and so we had to settle for the pedestal fan. We have seen the fans being built more and more with plastic parts and the latest ones seem to have only plastic except for the motor. This makes the pedestal fan top heavy. As you move the fan around after sometime you notice that the top part slowly slides down over time. The plastic threads holding it in position decide to relax a little every chance they get. Some have an on/off switch but most just have a knob that you turn in one direction to turn on, control the speed and to turn off. No doubt the use of plastics keeps the cost low but we pay for the cheap quality by having to replace the fan frequently. 

The old pedestal fan has evolved over time. There is the tower fan which has a small foot print but often also blows the air in a narrow line of sight. If you are not sitting almost straight across from it you will feel no breeze. Generally, the function of fans seems to be to create some movement when you are already cooling the room with air-conditioning. They are promoted as being whisper quiet, having a small footprint, etc. But I think a fan should first and foremost be able to move the air and in a vigorous manner. The rest are just desirable features.

Even as I was working on this blog, my fan situation had escalated. In addition to the extra discordant note, now the remote seemed to be acting up. This would not be a serious issue if the physical switch on the fan worked. Alas, that got jammed a while back. So I tried changing the batteries. But the fan retaliated by entirely stopping. The light on the panel lit up and a faint hum was heard. Nothing else. No movement at all. Now it is fit only for the dumpster. These fans are not designed with the possibility of being repaired. Just removing the plastic grill to clean and reattach it tells you that the plastic fasteners are not meant to last long. Maybe I should consider getting one of the new generation of fans which have no blades and no grill. They are quite pricey though.

I disconnected the fan that stood mockingly motionless and put it in the garage which was fast becoming a fan cemetery. There were three other dead fans there already not to mention diverse other defunct appliances. I must take them to the recycling center soon or I may have to park the car outside. Imagine that - park the car outside so that I can literally store junk inside. 

I closed the garage door with a sigh longing for the good old days when no fan was ever thrown out even if it started to fly. 

The Measure of Things

Have you faced the situation where you just cannot find the right sized wrench (or spanner as it is also known)? The 3/8" is too big, the 5/16" is too small and there is nothing in between in your tool set. You realize you have the American Standard set but the bolt you are trying to loosen is made to metric standards. Whatever happened to international standards? Okay, those of you who do not live in the US can stop rolling your eyes. I know you cannot relate to this.

Chalk it up to American Exceptionalism but I don't know if there are any countries other than the US that have not adopted the metric system. It feels archaic to be still using feet and pound, ounces and such not to talk of pints, quarts and gallon which let me point out is different from the imperial gallon. The scientific community like the rest of the world uses the metric system. The medical community prescribes dosage (cc's, milligrams, or grams) based on body weight in kilograms. But the general populace continues to use the old units and when it comes to tools, depends on conversion charts like the one in this article. Of course an adjustable wrench (or monkey spanner) works well for many applications.

Historically weights and measures along with balances have been used in India for a very long time going back to 2000 BC. Such artifacts have been discovered in Harappa and other sites of the Indus Valley Civilization. The ivory ruler found there may be the oldest such in the bronze age. There is a remarkable consistency in weights and linear measurements which indicate that they had a standardized system. If you are interested in details, just go to History of Measurement Systems in India. This page has an amazing chart of time measurement in India ranging from one ten millionth of a second to 22nd power of 10 years. 

Growing up at a time when we were in the middle of adopting the metric system, I had to learn the different units that were prevalent then and the conversion rates among them. Like in everything else, units in India differed from place to place. I have heard my grandmother mention the local currency in the Travancore kingdom where she was raised. Luckily, the currency had been standardized across the nation by the time I was born. But as part of the drive to go metric, the currency was redesigned in 1957 to use 100 naya paise (new paise) per rupee from the older 192 paise per rupee along with other coins. For a few years the old coins continued to be in circulation until they were discontinued in 1964. I remember the old coins still especially the quarter anna which was annular shaped. We did not have the British currency and did not have to deal with tuppence and muppets or whatever they use over there.

With weights and other measures, we had to deal with the traditional measures such as tola, palam, seer, vis that were used for normal articles and specialized smaller measures for precious metals as well as the British ones along with the new metric units and the conversion rates among them. Depending on what you were measuring, either the British units (feet, furlongs, miles for distance) or the indigenous measures (for liquids and for weights) were in vogue. 

While the metric system is easy to remember and use in calculations, our brains take time to adjust to the new measures. Even now we seem to be using feet and inches to denote height but for weight we seem to have moved to metric in India. Somehow to say you are 1.7 m tall seems odd. We were always trying to convert to the equivalent metric units or vice versa when transacting with shopkeepers. I think they in turn may have used the confusion to their advantage by quoting prices in as yet unfamiliar units. 

Fruits were sold by numbers and price for them was quoted per dozen. I don't think that the dozen as a measure is Indian. It was probably introduced by the British although counting by twelve may have older origins in Mesopotamia. It is convenient to count up to twelve using the phalanges of the fingers on one hand. Twelve is also divisible by two, three, four and six making calculations easy. Nowadays you will find fruits being sold by weight in most places. It always gives me pause. For example, I know how many bananas I want to buy but not how much by weight. In this context, I must mention my recent experience with Instakart where we ordered two pounds of tomatoes but ended up just two tomatoes. The app too seems to have been confused! Or was it the shopper? 

We also had (and still use) informal measures in use for some things. Flower vendors sold strands of jasmine and other flowers by arm length (muzham in Tamil). This would lead to some contention and haggling as the flowers may be strung densely or sparsely, not to mention the fact that the measure would vary from seller to seller depending on how tall or short they were. The price may very well be directly proportional to the density of flowers. This was the reason perhaps that in some places the practice is to sell jasmine strands by the count - you were quoted a price per one hundred flowers. In this case, they tended to be strung together densely. You could also buy loose flowers and string them yourself.

Standardization is obviously important in units of measurement. Informal units like the muzham may not matter much as the transactions are of low value but when dealing with land for instance they become critical. In this context, you will recall how King Bali was tricked by Lord Vishnu. Vishnu appeared as Vamana, the short one and asked for a little piece of land measured by just three paces. The moment Bali agreed to gift Him the land, He assumed His cosmic form and measured the earth and the heavens with just two paces. With no place for Him to place His foot for the third step, Bali offered the top of his head. Upon Vishnu placing His foot on his head, he was sent to the deepest nether world and is confined there even today appearing on earth only once a year during the Onam festival in Kerala. If only he had insisted on a standard measure!

World of Words

वागर्थाविवसंपृक्तौ वागर्थप्रतिपत्तये|

जगत: पितरौ वन्दे पार्वतीपरमेश्वरौ||

vaagarthaaviva samprktau vaagarthapratipattaye

jagatah.pitarau vande parvatiiparameshvarau

In the opening verse of his Raghuvamsha quoted above, the famous poet Kalidasa invokes the universal parents Goddess Parvathi and Lord Shiva whom he describes as being inseparable as a word and its meaning and asks them to bless him. He prays to them for clear understanding of words and their meanings. This verse is commonly recited by students of Sanskrit even today. A word and its meaning are indeed inseparable. When does a word come to be associated with its meaning? When was the first time someone used 'cow' to denote the animal we now know as cow? Did the word exist before that? Can a word exist without its associated meaning? Without meaning, it will not be a word but gibberish. If you think of any word, its associated meaning simultaneously flashes in your mind. 

I wonder what it is that made speech and language possible in humans. Other species communicate by sound too but none of them come anywhere near the complexity of human language. The evolution of language must have given a real impetus to the growth of civilization. It is hard even to think now without words. Our entire life is dominated by words. They are the primary means of communication and expression that we have. We have constitutions, laws, textbooks, etc. where interpreting the words is very important. This is not to ignore the vast world of literature and scriptures where there is more scope for subjective interpretation.  

Words serve to record current knowledge and pass it on. New research constantly draws upon previously established theories. All our learning is facilitated by words - spoken and written. Before printing made it possible for books to be widely available, knowledge had to be orally transmitted. In traditional schools in India, people had to first memorize a text before they were taught the meaning. In this manner, India managed to preserve the vast scriptures and other books and pass them on from generation to generation.  

Learning a language starts with gaining some basic vocabulary in that language. Although we were taught the alphabet first, at least in one's mother tongue, this starts only after we have already learned to speak it. I feel the way I was taught English stressed the written over the spoken. As a result I got to know the rules and grammar before I tried to speak English. I think starting with the spoken version would have been far more effective.

Although all books are made of words, I believe that the dictionary alone can be called a book of words. A dictionary is essential when studying a language. I remember using one to look up unfamiliar words when I was in school. We had English dictionaries at home - small and large. One of them was the extremely useful English-English-Tamil dictionary published by LIFCO. The curious thing is we only had dictionaries for English. I cannot recall ever referring to a Tamil dictionary. As we advanced in Tamil through high school, we somehow learned new words and their meanings without a dictionary. The texts would sometimes include a list of unfamiliar words with their meanings but usually the teacher explained them. It was the same when I later learned Sanskrit.

Speaking of dictionaries, I recently read the charming novel The Great Passage by Shion Miura. It is about the creation of a Japanese dictionary and follows the life of the people involved in this. Working on it changes them in many ways and in some cases provides them with insight into their own selves. But the dictionary actually does occupy a central place in the story. The whole process of making the dictionary takes fifteen years in this story. The level of details regarding the process of editing the dictionary is sure to appeal to your inner geek. 

Compiling a dictionary is a stupendous task. With the online dictionaries one cannot appreciate the scale of the thing at all. The  print version of the Oxford English Dictionary has twenty volumes and includes some 600,000 words according to its official website. Dictionaries pack a lot of information but the print must be legible and the paper must be thin to keep the volume from being too heavy and at the same time easy to turn without sticking or tearing easily. As the dictionary has a long shelf life, the paper must be durable. But all these details are secondary to the task of compiling the contents. How the editors must agonize over what to include and how to explain the meanings precisely are things we never think about. For example, if you look at the meaning of the word 'Right' (as in the direction) in the dictionary, you will see this:

"of, relating to, situated on, or being the side of the body which is away from the side on which the heart is mostly located" (https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/right)

If a very commonplace word like 'right' has to be defined like this, you can appreciate how hard the editors have to think to come up with definitions. No wonder even Kalidasa prayed for the clear understanding of words and their meaning.

Languages grow with new words and word usage changes over time. A dictionary has to keep up with this. English has borrowed many words from other languages. For instance, the words cash, catamaran, coir and curry are all from Tamil to cite just a few examples (and just in the C's). The British spent about three centuries in India and they took many words back with them along with all the wealth. They left the English language as a legacy to Indians. And naturally, we have made it our own with unique twists and tweaks.

Indian English is actually recognized as a regional variant. I would argue that we have further variants within that! Some of the words Indians use may not pass muster grammatically ('updation' for example) but I think we have some good suggestions for inclusion as legitimate words, not just Indian English. A good example is 'prepone' as the opposite of  'postpone'. There is no equivalent in English. To say that the date has been advanced or brought forward is not only cumbersome but also not very clear. So 'prepone' fills a felt need. I was happy to see that it is on the watch list of Merriam-Webster (https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/prepone)  But why on the watch list? What are they waiting for? 

English can do with more such words in my opinion. I need hardly tell you that it is a confounding language. 'Fat chance' and 'slim chance' mean almost the same thing. Actually, 'slim chance' is a little better than 'fat chance', I think. While 'awful' and 'awesome' are totally different, 'flammable' and 'inflammable' mean the same thing. Our heads are often left spinning. If Merriam-Webster knows what's good for English, they would prepone the inclusion of 'prepone'. 

Anatomy Of A Puzzle

During these last few months of staying home or sheltering in place or being in lock down I have been looking at all the puzzles, riddles and such making their rounds in social media. They always show up every now and then but their frequency has definitely increased after the COVID outbreak. I am guilty of posting some myself, I confess. They do provide some diversion and are welcome in general if you like solving puzzles.

Let me get something out of the way first. I don't like certain type of problems. They involve different figures and basic arithmetic but they are just eye tests. The figures are combinations of objects, animals, and human beings - shoes, hats, glasses, coats, or whatever, and persons wearing them. In these cases, you should always consider your first answer to be wrong and go over the pictures again very carefully. Zoom in if you have to. You can easily overlook the fact that the coat has a button missing or the man is holding two batons instead of one or is/is not wearing shoes. Watch out, the girl is wearing an earring in one ear but not the other. I don't know about you but by this time, I have lost interest in it. 

Fortunately, there is a whole lot of other puzzles involving word play, logic, etc. which are more satisfying. I do enjoy solving them, but sometimes they send me off on a tangent. Take this story of the five marooned men and and a monkey and coconuts that came my way recently. It's not new. In fact, it has been around for a long time. I will state the problem for you and let you have the satisfaction of working out the answer or googling it if you prefer. I will just share the little journey which this sent me on.

Five men and a monkey were shipwrecked on an island. They spent the first day gathering coconuts. During the night, one man woke up and decided to take his share of the coconuts. He divided them into five piles. One coconut was left over so he gave it to the monkey, then hid his share, put the rest back together, and went back to sleep.

Soon a second man woke up and did the same thing. After dividing the coconuts into five piles, one coconut was left over which he gave to the monkey. He then hid his share, put the rest back together, and went back to bed. The third, fourth, and fifth man followed exactly the same procedure. The next morning, after they all woke up, they divided the remaining coconuts into five equal shares. Again there was one left which they gave to the monkey

How many coconuts were there in the original pile? To be precise, what is the smallest possible number of coconuts they would have had at the beginning (because there is no unique answer)?

Now you may have seen this problem before but if you have not do not worry. I am not going to reveal the solution here. The solution is a little involved and takes some effort to get to but the reason it set me thinking has nothing to do with the actual solution. In any case, solving it is not a requirement to read further. The real puzzle for me is the whole story which I think is a harder nut to crack (all right, I will admit that was a cheap pun).

When I realized how many coconuts were involved, I started down a proverbial rabbit hole or up on a flight of imagination. Firstly, I noted that they would have had to spend a long time collecting all those coconuts. There is no way that they could have done it all in one day. It also seemed strange that they would spend all their time on day one picking up coconuts (I am assuming that they were not climbing the trees and getting them). Not the first priority, I would think, when you find yourself cast away on a deserted island. But let us move on.   

The evident abundance of coconuts perhaps made for an easy way to pass time by collecting them. If they were all collecting them, and pooling them rather than keeping the individual shares separate shows there was a level of trust. So why try to appropriate one's share in the middle of the night without telling the others? Even in this there is a strange discipline with a robotic similarity. They wake up one at a time to do essentially the same thing. Not only that, they only take what is their share, one-fifth. Talk about honor among thieves. Well, not quite, I guess. Otherwise the piles could have been left separate.

In all seriousness, do you think any of them would have had the energy to keep awake that night (much less wake up one after another taking turns), especially after spending the day collecting an enormous cache of coconuts? Even ignoring that, I am trying hard to picture the mountain of coconuts being divided. Given their quantity, and their size and odd shape, it will take hours to count them. Maybe they were super efficient in counting and separating the piles. In passing, you will note that they would also have given their arms a fantastic workout. But the sheer number still boggles the mind. Where would you hide your share of a few thousand coconuts? The whole thing makes me wonder if the author of the riddle had even seen a coconut.

In some versions of the story, the five men were waiting to be rescued after being spotted. While waiting, one by one they divided the collected coconuts during the night in the said manner. Were they really expecting to take all the thousands of coconuts with them into the ship? Did they think that their free ride included limitless baggage allowance? Or maybe they wanted to compensate their saviours for the rescue with coconuts (if so, then why bother with counting and dividing?). But this would surely have led to 'the proverbial coconut that sank the boat'. A nice way to thank the rescuers, wouldn't you say?

News Break

News used to be staid for the most part. Yes, we have always had the tabloids but we mostly encountered them at supermarket checkouts. We got our news from newspapers or from evening news broadcast on the radio and TV. What happened between those times did not occupy our minds. Unless there was a truly big event, no one thought it was important to know things as they happened. But this seems so long ago. Nowadays you cannot go even a few minutes without some 'breaking news' thrown your way. 

I use the term 'News' loosely. There is news and then there is NEWS. I use the latter to describe the non-stop broadcasting of analysis, opinions, reactions, or outrage over every tidbit, controversial or not, that happens in the world put out by the 'News Channels'. Soundbites and video clips are repeated ad nauseam with the so called experts weighing in. When you have to fill 24 hours of air time, items that were not even worth mentioning in a news broadcast, become 'breaking news'.

It's easy to get addicted to watching the news channels all the time. One has only to stop and think a little and one will realize what little value addition they bring. The hosts of the show don't even try to get people with different viewpoints to the discussion anymore. Even if you agree with the political slant of the particular channel, you can still get outraged depending on the story. And if you don't agree, you will stop watching the channel and switch to one more attuned to your views. Either way you may eventually end up becoming deaf to differing viewpoints. 

I wish we could go back to reading the news in the morning and listening to the news at the end of the day, going about our business the rest of the time. But the rise of digital media has meant death to print media. Many fine dailies have gone out of business. Those that are still around find it hard to compete without resorting to the same tactics used by the online and TV channels. At the same time, going online to get the news is also fraught. The search engines have accumulated all kinds of details about the users and the results that you see when you simply search for news are not guaranteed to be some unbiased collection of news stories. They are 'tailored' to you. By following them, you further reinforce the selection algorithm. Once again, you could end up in a bubble. No wonder there is so much polarization around.

You just have to read the comments from readers on the news stories to see this polarization. Of course, it is possible that only those with strong views post comments and they don't reflect a representative sample (at least I would like to think that way). The thing is digital medium allows for instant reactions. It is not like writing a letter to the editor which among other things actually requires a modicum of writing skills. The sheer effort of putting things down on paper and mailing the letter would deter most. And then there's the waiting. Who wants to wait days to see their letter printed? What's the guarantee that people will still be interested in the topic by then? Online, there are no such obstacles. You can remain anonymous too. Since you are talking to total strangers, there are no restraints either. 

Strong negative comments could indicate that the reader has stepped out of his bubble and one may think that it's a good thing. But often it just means that they are so immune to changing their mind that they feel they are ready to tackle the enemy. And they are not trying to convince anyone. It is just about scoring a point. You sometimes see long exchanges like a rally in tennis with comments flying back and forth increasing in vitriol, put downs and insults, verbal punches and counter-punches. What a sad way to spend time dueling with people you most likely don't even know. 

Even if there is no controversy, the news media love to cook up one. The more inflammatory or extreme the headline, the more clicks it gets and possibly more reactions. So now you have the sites highlighting what is trending, what has gotten more reactions, etc. and clicking on these contributes to the stories becoming even more popular. What more incentive is required for media to look for the most outrageous stories, or to sensationalize even normal news.

The language used by news media, especially online ones is calculated to entice you to click on the headlines. It is also a lesson on how words can be used to create really violent imagery - 'smacks down', 'annihilated', etc. When you read that so and so was 'eviscerated', it sounds scary but don't be alarmed. It is only in a figurative sense.  And then you have these - 'the internet is not having it', 'Twitter is on fire', etc. meaning just an amorphous set of people whose opinions likely do not  matter to anyone are posting about it among themselves. 

Politicians with 'foot-in-the mouth' disease are of course contributing to such stories all the time. They may get 'hilariously trolled' or even 'destroyed' but they will be talked about for a few hours or may be a day depending on how strong the reaction is. But I guess they enjoy any exposure because they have managed to grab a few news cycles. This is certainly very important. One who knows how to manipulate the news can consume all the oxygen in the air waves and crowd out others from getting coverage, a big advantage in today's world.

Apart from politicians, celebrities tend to thrive on media coverage. Even if they don't, the media loves to cover them. They cannot escape the paparazzi. God help them if they step out wearing a mismatched shirt or without make up on (men seem to get away with such infractions though). The fashion police are quick to pounce on them, Twitteratti are all atwitter, and the 'internet will not have it'. 

In these challenging times (to borrow a phrase from every other TV ad now), with the lock down, there is a temptation to watch a lot of TV. All the news channels are convinced that it is important for us to know the latest count of COVID-19 cases and deaths (many have a running real-time counter on constant display). I think we can use a break from the news (how strange and sad - from taking a news break we have moved to taking a break from the news) and enjoy the little things around us. I go out and watch the butterflies that are out in full force now in the backyard flitting from flower to flower. I see little birds enjoying a morning shower when the lawn sprinklers go off. It seems all the animals and creatures are going about their business as usual and unconcerned about the 'News'. Maybe you too can focus on the little picture and choose to enjoy the moment every now and then.

Breaking the Paper Trail

The past few days I have been staying home or 'sheltering in place' like most. I can continue to work from home and I do. It is certainly convenient not to have to dress up or even shave for work. Meetings are done online but without video. But I have found that I don't move around as much when I am sitting at my home computer. In the office, I practice 'Management by Wandering Around'. I conduct most of my work by going around to my team. I also need to walk a couple of hundred steps every time I use the restroom. At home, I am chained to the PC and the bathroom is pretty much adjacent to my home office which is nothing fancy, essentially the landing at the top of the stairs - the office I mean, not the bathroom.

In the midst of this, I have been asked to reduce my vacation balance or lose any excess. So I have had to take time off now but that has been frustrating in the current situation where I really cannot go anywhere. I do manage to go walking and that's a blessing for sure. Still the last few days have been creating a feeling of being under house arrest. The news is a constant source of anxiety and social media keeps bringing posts from people who seem to be petrified. I have been reducing my consumption of both to retain some sanity. Writing a blog about the whole thing seemed a good way to take a somewhat distanced look at the whole thing. What I am trying to say is whether you find this distracting or not, I do. And if it provides you with a break too, all the better.

* * *

'Paper or plastic?' - this was a common question we faced at the supermarket what seems a long time ago. Paper bags were more expensive and grocery stores were switching to plastic then. Now we have moved on to reusable bags. 'Bring your own bags' is the mantra. But another concern has been injected into this whole question with the threat of Corona virus. In fact, there are YouTube videos  on how to do grocery shopping and handle the bags amidst the threat of infection. While not exactly advocating for hazmat suits, these are enough to cause a nervous breakdown or make you a candidate for OCD. Obviously that's not what I want to dwell upon but something more fundamental and serious.

When the public sensed that there was going to be some kind of a 'lock down', panicky consumers rushed to the stores to stock up on necessities. Surprisingly toilet paper was the first item to run out leaving gaping empty shelves. Some experts (!) have said that the rush to grab toilet paper is due to irrationality and fear. Seriously, I am not sure if this is an explanation or mere restating of the event.

Anyway, many were caught by surprise and now may be facing a real shortage of the essential item in their homes. To them I say, 'How about water?'. After all, a large part of the world uses water for the purpose of cleaning rather than paper. In the US, there is only a tiny section that has embraced the liquid solution. I understand there is an increased demand for bidets of all kinds now. I have seen articles even promoting the superiority of these pop up online.

Growing up in India where we use water instead of paper, I remember the older generation mention with not a little disgust how strange it was that the British ('white people' was the term then) used paper for cleaning. Our household had all kinds of rules about personal hygiene and cleanliness in general. Every time you went out and came back, you were expected to wash your hands and feet. The same rule applied after every time one used the bathroom.

We ate with our hands and obviously it was important to keep them clean. Serving oneself while eating was strictly prohibited to avoid any contamination. The plates used for eating from were never to be mixed up with cooking utensils when washing. They were stored separately too. Or better still plantain leaves were used instead of plates. I could go on but you get the idea.

It was an adjustment getting used to toilet paper when I moved to the US. Paper has many disadvantages and I can't go into all of them here. I will just mention one - even the best brand of paper is abrasive to the skin. Enough said. But an alternative was not easily available until recently. I have finally been able to retrofit the toilet with what goes by the fancy name of 'bidet sprayer' but basically just a flexible hose with a nozzle, the kind that is now pretty common in India and elsewhere.

I think COVID-19 is going to permanently redefine how we function in many ways. For instance, if it promotes more Work from Home or WFH to use the new buzzword, we can expect air quality to improve and roads to be less congested. If more people switch to using water in the toilet and less paper, that is a good thing too. So if you ask me 'Paper or Water?', my answer is 'Water most certainly'. At the least, I have reduced my dependence on the now elusive paper. I also have the satisfaction that I have done a little bit for the planet as well. But the bottom line (yes, pun intended) is I just find it more comfortable to use water. I think we can leave it there.

Abstract Distraction

'Forty-Two', said Deep Thought with infinite majesty and calm (from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams)

When it comes to art appreciation, I confess I am a layman. To me, a painting represents something - landscape, people, still life, etc. I should be able to look at the work and recognize what I am seeing and understand what the artist is trying to convey. I can decide whether I like it or not without going through elaborate analysis. Depending on the subject, the work may also evoke certain emotions in me. Seeing a brilliant sunset on canvas may remind me of sunsets I have enjoyed and put me in a calm mood.

Abstract art on the other hand is something of a closed book to me. I am left scratching my head and wondering what exactly the piece represents. It is like being given an answer and having to guess the question. In 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy', the computer (Deep Thought) works out the answer to the ultimate question of Life, the Universe, and Everything to be 'Forty-Two', but there is just one problem. No one knows the exact question to which 'Forty-Two' is the answer. That sums up what abstract art is to me. I have the work in front of me but I can barely guess what it is about.

All this is not to say that I am dismissing abstract paintings or abstract sculptures. Some of them do hold a certain passing interest. They seem to be puzzles to be unlocked. So I turned to that patient online teacher, our version of Deep Thought, wikiHow, to get some pointers on appreciating art (https://www.wikihow.com/Appreciate-Abstract-Art). In a few simple steps it told me how to go about it. In fact, it has three different methods. The first tells you to look at the work from a distance and then up close, clear your head of negative thoughts, take deep breaths, wear headphones to block out exterior noise, etc. It seems to me you must first take a course in meditation before looking at an abstract painting. Maybe, it will make you angry and frustrated otherwise?

Then there is the advice to do some research on the artist and learn his life story to understand where he/she may be coming from. Why not attach a little bio with each painting then if that's relevant? The third way arrogantly recommends that you clear your head of all notions of what you might consider art because an outsider can only have an incomplete view of the art world (then why bother displaying art to the public?). It even challenges you to 'try making one yourself'. At this point, I feel that this is too much work to put into this. I will accept that there is a lot of hard work and thought put into the works by the artists. But does it mean that I have to like it or go to a lot of trouble to learn to 'appreciate' it?

A recent news item made me ask whether there is even a limit to what can be considered art. An art piece called 'The Comedian' by Maurizio Cattelan sold for $120,000. 'The Comedian' was a banana duct-taped to a wall. No, the banana was not made of gold or precious stones. It was just a regular banana. Apparently there were three such pieces displayed and after two of them sold for $120,000 each, the gallery raised the price on the third to $150,000 to be sold to a museum no less. The initial price was fixed so as to not trivialize the work  and at the same not also be outlandishly high (!). And what are you supposed to do when the banana ripens and rots? You just buy a fresh banana and tape it to the wall. All good.

I am truly puzzled. I mean I can get a banana and some duct tape and put it up on my wall any time. But then I did not have the idea to put it up in a gallery and attach a 'non-trivial' price tag to it. This article on the topic really made me roll my eyes. According to the writer, 'Nobody gets to define what isn't art, and "The Comedian" is absolutely art'. Apparently, the fact it generated so much chatter is good enough reason to consider it even 'powerful art'.

It gets better. Someone ate the $120,000 (or was it $150,000?) banana displayed at the gallery saying it was 'art performance' and even named the video 'Hungry Artist'. What did the gallery do? They just replaced the banana, of course. They said, 'He did not destroy the art work. The banana is the idea'. The fact that they did not even charge the guy but just bought another banana and taped it to the wall speaks volumes to me as to how serious this work really is.

Is this what art has come to? Or is this kind of an 'Emperor has no clothes' moment? What do I know? Like I said, I am just a layman.