Knots And Laces

I learned something recently that surprised me. All right, I will go ahead and admit that I was shocked. I found out that I have been tying my shoelaces wrong all these years. I have had a problem with the laces coming undone frequently. I had attributed this to the quality of the laces, the material used and so on. Until now. The other day I was frustrated enough to look up the issue and potential solutions online.

I did not realize that this is quite a thing. Apparently it is a widespread problem that dogs many people and that is because they are all tying their laces wrong. Undoubtedly, Professor Shoelace (no, I am not making that up) is the absolute expert on shoelaces and he has much to say on the matter here. You will learn all you ever wanted to know about shoelaces and all you never wanted to. For instance, you may realize that you are making a granny knot (which is what I have been doing) instead of a balanced knot. Even sailors could learn a thing or two about various types of knots from him. Anyway, it was quite humbling to find out that I had been wrong all this time.

I did not start wearing shoes until I had to in college. All through school, my feet enjoyed the ventilation afforded by sandals and slippers, which at the same time protected the feet from the hot ground in summer. Being made of plastic or rubber, they allowed us to wade through puddles when it rained without their getting ruined. We used to play wearing them, but if that was inconvenient, we went barefoot. I remember the reddish sand in the playground used to coat our feet whenever we played cricket. Whether our feet were covered or not, no laces were obviously needed to secure shoes to them.

That freedom ended when I started my engineering studies. We needed to wear shoes for the workshop class where they were a safety requirement. What a pain that was. If you never wore shoes and suddenly started wearing them, your feet rebel. Adding to that, we had to spend the day standing and working. The first few days, my feet hurt like the devil. People who start wearing shoes at a tender age have feet that have adapted to fit the narrow confines of shoes and even look as though the shoes are simply designed around them. My feet had been allowed to grow as they pleased and confining them to shoes took some breaking in. Instead of breaking in a pair of new shoes, I ended up breaking my feet in.

As for the laces, no one taught me how to tie them. I figured it out pretty quickly. After all, by that point in my life, I had learned a useful skill or two. I got used to shoes too in a few weeks, but even now I take my time buying a new pair making absolutely sure that they are comfortable. I have to be able to curl my toes while wearing them and they should be wide enough to keep my feet from being squished. I am often told that I take too long to select a pair of shoes. Perhaps that is true, but I can definitely say that it is worth spending some time on it.

Talking of knots, I have to mention the necktie. This is surely a tyrannical imposition on the working man. The tie is probably the only piece of male attire that is more about looks than comfort. Men are usually quite willing to sacrifice fashion for practicality, but somehow the necktie survives. Not only is it a painful thing to wear, it also requires mastering the knot. There seem to be a million ways to knot the tie. The type of knot has to match the tie. Whether the tie is broad or narrow, made of silk or wool, etc. etc. - all these are apparently important factors in choosing the knot. Someone has even written a book about the whole thing. Me, I learnt just one knot (the 'four-in-hand', I believe it's called) and decided that that would serve. And it has (well, maybe with mixed results).

Unlike the shoelaces, the tie is quite visible and thus it is important to learn how to make the perfect knot (well, at least a decent looking one). The process appears deceptively simple but it takes quite a bit of practice to get it right. Till you get the hang of it, the knot may be too small or too big. Or the inner end sticks out below the outer. Sometimes, instead of looking like a well-crafted samosa, it looks like a random piece of clay. The most annoying thing was that often the shirt collars were not sized properly making it difficult to achieve that well-groomed look. As we are usually rushed in the morning getting ready - I am sure Jeeves would have disapproved if this - it was quite common to have the tie pre-knotted and ready to wear like a necklace day after day.

For a brief time in my career, I had to wear a tie to work. I am sure the tie adds to the overall appearance in a positive way. It may even provide some protection from the cold in temperate and colder countries. But in tropical Mumbai, it was sheer torture to wear a tie. If you want to teach yourself forbearance, don a tie (with shirt and pants of course!), and take a ride in a taxi (make sure it is not air-conditioned) in Mumbai in late May just before the monsoon breaks. The air is still. The temperature is usually around 37 degrees Celsius or more. The humidity is well north of 90%. In fact, it is so humid that you can cut the moisture in the air with your hand. Your whole body is covered with perspiration. Under these conditions, whenever the taxi stops for a signal, the least exertion will cause you to sweat even more. You may feel like cursing the tie and ripping it off, but you should desist. Stay absolutely still. In fact, you should even stop thinking if you do not wish to aggravate the situation. The smallest activity, even thinking, will make it worse. If this experience does not teach you patience, I do not know what will.

Pragmatism has asserted itself over the years and we no longer have such strict dress codes for work. 'Business Casual' is the requirement in most establishments. Shoes are still a must but we have plenty of comfortable options in shoes. In fact, I would say that a shoe that fits well is a joy to wear. We just have to make sure that the laces are tied properly.

The Fountain of Ideas

The other day, I attended a seminar where a pen was handed out with the compliments of the company hosting the seminar to each participant. Somewhat large, it felt heavy in my hand. Unlike the usual pens that you find at conferences, this looked well-made and I thought, made to last. I opened it with some eagerness but was disappointed to see that it had a cheap ball-point tip. I could not believe that someone would spend so much on making a sturdy housing and put in a cheap refill. Worse, there was no way to replace the refill once the ink ran out. It seemed such a waste.

I remember first learning to use a pen when I was in high school. This was a big deal then. It was yet another milestone in our march into adulthood. The fountain pen is a fairly sophisticated instrument. Handling one required some training and practice. There was also the added responsibility of keeping the ink barrel filled and the pen clean to keep the ink flowing well. Every now and then, you had to take it apart and wash the parts. The pens we used did not come with a self-filling mechanism. You had to fill it directly from the pot or use a dropper with a steady hand.

The transition from pencil to pen was not very easy. You exert considerable pressure with the pencil but with fountain pens, you need a more delicate touch. Too little pressure leaves gaps in the lines while too much will poke a hole in the paper. The quality of the paper too becomes important. Once you master the writing with the fountain pen, the effortless ease with which the nib glides along the paper is a delight. The pen adapts to the writer and over time, there is a synergy built between the two. The grip, the angle and the wear on the nib are all unique to the user. It is difficult to write with a pen that someone else has used for a long time. It feels odd like you are wearing someone else's shoes. For the same reason, I used to hesitate to lend my pen to someone else.

The fountain pen is not without its negatives. There is a constant need to worry about how much ink is left. During examinations in school and college, we always carried a back up pen. The ink can get stale over time and create a stink. There is also the possibility of leaks resulting in soiled clothes. Often, people used to give their pens a couple vigorous shakes if the ink failed to flow from the barrel. One could see a trail of ink on the floor of classrooms. You had to be alert to this or else you could get sprayed. Even in regular usage, you acquired ink-stained fingertips but these were worn with pride as a mark of a good student or scholar.

Ballpoint pens eliminate many of the cumbersome aspects of fountain pens. The first ballpoint pens to arrive, however, were a poor substitute to fountain pens. I did not enjoy writing with these pens. They required a lot of pressure to work and made me miss the smooth experience of the fountain pen. They used to tax my wrist and fingers. Of course, this has changed with the arrival of pens with all sorts of new tips. I must admit these are great as they provide for the same effortless, smooth writing but avoid issues of leakage and the need to refill frequently.

The computer keyboard has now displaced both the pen and the typewriter. I need not go into the obvious advantages of word processing. But is the experience any different for a writer when using the computer? The pen is like an extension of the person while the keyboard is obviously detached. To use an analogy, if writing is ballet, typing is tap dancing. Handwriting may even reflect the personality of the writer according to graphologists. Ultimately, I suppose it is a question of personal preference.

I find that the keyboard is too fast as it were, when I am trying to form ideas and get them out. It is almost as if the keyboard is impatient for the next tap. The flashing cursor on the screen mocks my stunted flow. The pen on the other hand seems willing to wait for my mind. Also, with a pen, I use cursive which makes me feel more connected to what I write. The letters in each word look they are a family. Typing throws the letters at a rapid pace on to the screen which is great when I have the material ready. Even if I do not, I can avoid littering the floor with crumpled sheets of paper. All I have to do is clear the screen to throw away an unsatisfactory draft. But sometimes, I am reluctant to do that and end up hacking away at it instead of discarding it. I am not likely to do that with a paper draft.

I used to think that the art of penmanship will be a lost skill in the near future. The only thing for which you need a pen these days is to sign documents. Even there, electronic signatures are taking over. But there are times when I have to write things down. I make notes when listening to a lecture, for example. While it is possible to do this with a laptop or tablet, I prefer the paper and pen for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I never acquired the professional skill of typing. I have come a long way from the days of  'hunt and peck' (or the 'ostrich method' as I like to call it), but I still need to look at the keyboard every now and then which is a little distracting. The other thing is that I often go back and make notes on the margin or draw connecting lines between things. Sometimes you need to draw a quick picture or chart; or just doodle to avoid nodding off. A pen and paper cannot be beat in such situations. Or can they?

Things may have actually come a full circle with the advent of phones and tablets with touch sensitive screens. The electronic keyboards they offer are great but they can be awkward to use on small devices. This has spawned writing styluses that may be the digital avatars of fountain pens. They actually provide a nice alternative to paper and pen and allow for freehand drawings and doodles. I am going to give them a try (as always, a late adopter!).

Now, if only I can get a pen that is a fountain of ideas.

Pen Picture Courtesy: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fountain-pen-nib.jpg

A Vegetarian Hunt

'How about a salmon sandwich?', asked the stewardess. She had  just informed me apologetically that owing to some glitch, my choice of vegetarian meal was not loaded on the flight. Unfortunately, I had to decline her offer. I told her I did not eat fish either and resigned myself to eating what little was vegetarian on the plate.

When people find out that I do not eat meat, they often ask, 'How about fish?' or 'Not even chicken?', as if fish and chicken are not meat. Then there was this person who wanted to know if I was 'fiercely vegetarian' and I had to correct him saying, 'No, just vegetarian'. Others wonder how I get my proteins. I tell them that I wonder about that too. I am as health conscious as the next person, but good eats are what I primarily care about and there is no end to the list of delicious vegetarian dishes. Of course, for generations unknown, my family and countless others like mine have managed to keep themselves healthy on a vegetarian diet. People sometimes fail to understand this and assume that I must be subsisting entirely on salads or boiled vegetables. Or tofu, that magical substance which apparently can be transformed into virtually anything since it tastes like nothing.

Speaking of tofu, a friend once took me to a restaurant which, he claimed, was a vegetarian's delight. It was not even remotely delightful to me. The place served all kinds of mock meat made of tofu. Unfortunately, mock meat leaves me cold just as real meat does. But I can see how it will appeal to those who are actually giving up meat. The point, and this is an important point, is that I have not 'given up' eating meat. I simply have never eaten meat. I do not miss its taste, texture or flavour and am not seeking an alternative to it.

Nowadays vegetarian or even vegan diet is quite popular and in most big cities in America, one can readily find restaurants that offer plenty of vegetarian choices. But twenty or thirty years ago (and probably even today, in smaller towns), this was not the case. I once lived in a suburb where within a radius of a few miles, I think there was just one vegetarian dish among all the restaurants if you did not count salads or pizza. This dish was called, quite appropriately, 'Buddha's Delight'. I also remember a Thai eatery where there was not a single item without meat on their extensive 6-page menu. When I asked the waiter about it, he brought me a hand-written menu with five dishes on it!

Eating out can still be challenging for a vegetarian. Names can be deceiving. It is important to ask the waiter what's in a dish before ordering. For instance, I understand that 'duck sauce' does not contain any duck, but 'oyster sauce' is a different story. Nevertheless, I take no chances with either! The rice served in Mexican restaurants is often made with chicken broth, something I would not have discovered if I had not asked.  And I have heard the story of someone who assumed that hamburgers were made with ham and cheeseburgers with cheese and decided the latter were vegetarian!

While we vegetarians face such problems, there is another side to this too. I think it is a little bit of a problem for co-workers when we decide to go out for lunch occasionally. They always make an effort to accommodate my dietary preference. I usually tell them that I can always find something in most places and not to worry about me. Sometimes, it turns out to be not so easy.

There was this time when a friend and I found ourselves at a restaurant where we were struggling to find anything vegetarian, though my friend had assured me that he had eaten there before. It turned out that they had vegetarian dishes on the fare only occasionally, say, once a week. The man eating at an adjacent table upon seeing our plight, tried to help out by critically examining the menu, and talking to the waiter, but there was nothing to be done. In the end, rather than going to another place, we just ordered fruit salads. We got to talking with our new friend and learned that he had visited India as a sailor. He had once been to Bombay where he said he even won some money at the races. By the time we finished our salads, he had left but we found out that he had paid our bill too. I suppose he somehow felt guilty that his country had let its guests down and decided to make some amends. Let us say that it was karma - his winning at the races in Bombay and paying for our meal in the US!

The staff at the restaurants are sometimes hard put to accommodate our choices. I once worked in a very small town near Buffalo. The only places to eat lunch there were a diner and a couple of fast food restaurants. A bunch of us newcomers descended on the Burger King or McDonald's there (I can't remember which) for lunch on our first day. Many of us were vegetarians and wanted to order a burger with all the fixings, but without the meat! This made for some confusion there as the order clerk was puzzled at first. At first, he could not believe that we had asked for a burger without meat. He was sure we had meant to say pickle or cheese or something like that. When he finally realized that we really did not want any meat, this seemingly raised a different problem. By now the line behind us had started to grow and people were becoming impatient of the wait. After some hemming and hawing, he called the manager.

The manager came out. After the clerk told him about our order, he looked serious. We thought perhaps that they could not make the burger without meat. Integrity of the product and all that, you know. But that was not it. Instead, the manager told us somewhat apologetically that he would have to charge us the same price as the regular burger. You see, the real issue was that the cash register was not programmed for our option and they could not figure out how to override it. We were hungry and told him we did not mind.

To his credit, the manager had the register re-programmed and added the 'no meat' option after a couple of days of this!

Alarming Times

If you expected this to be about the dangerous times we live in, you can banish the thought. Having managed to keep the blog going for almost two years, I think I can count on some of you as long time readers. And as long time readers, you know very well that I do not dwell on such mundane topics in this blog. I leave them to news reporters and journalists. I will stick to the more serious things in our lives such as coffee and shaving, and in this instance, I want to talk about the alarm clock. And other clocks.

First, a word about calling it an alarm clock. It is strange that we wind it up to go off at a particular time but when it does, say that the 'alarm' went off. It would be alarming if it failed to go off, not the other way around. On the other hand, I can justify the name perfectly from the clock's point of view. I mean, here it is ticking away in quiet contentment and all of a sudden a part of its body goes off like a banshee. If I were the clock, I would certainly be alarmed. Luckily, all it requires is a gentle, comforting pat on the head (which all of us are happy to provide), and the ringing stops.

Alarm clocks have become indispensable in our lives. Many need it daily to wake up in time. The idea of training myself to get up to the sound of an alarm does not appeal to me. I have generally had the ability to wake up at some specific hour on a regular basis. I guess life's routines manage to train me easily, although occasionally I oversleep and have to rush. I do use the alarm whenever I need to get up earlier than usual. But paradoxically then, my mental alarm goes into overdrive and I end up waking up every now and then and checking the time as I do not want to be startled by the sound of the alarm! Eventually, I may drift off into the dreamless and may even sleep through the alarm rendering the whole thing useless.

This morning, when I first opened my eyes and looked at the clock it showed 6:30, but when I looked at my phone it said 7:30. I realized with some dismay that daylight savings time had begun but every cell in my body sided with the clock. Some of you may recall how I feel about daylight savings time (I never understood why this is plural). In fact, the very first entry on this blog was triggered by this anachronistic practice.

The alarm clock has evolved over time. The traditional ringing kind has given way to many electric and digital versions. Do you remember the electro-mechanical type which had a physical display that flipped over every minute? I have a particular dislike for such displays. I was once stuck at Frankurt airport for several hours back when the arrival-departure board used one. As planes departed and arrived which was every other minute, the display had to change and be sorted by time too. The infernal noise of panels flipping constantly nearly made me flip. But I digress.

The entry of the clock-radio made it possible to wake up to your favourite radio station or a buzzer sound. I now have a clock radio that has additional sounds you can wake up to or just play for soothing effect - the ocean, a babbling brook, or the wind, though the thing can be a little tricky with umpteen buttons. I have occasionally set the alarm by pressing one of the wrong buttons while trying to move it around and ended up being woken up early in the AM. Shutting the thing off, when you are startled out of your wits suddenly, and are all thumbs, is not always the easiest thing to do. It takes some frantic button-pushing. By then, you might actually be fully awake. But all is not lost because you can possibly play one of the soothing sounds (say the ocean) and get back to sleep. If you manage to find the correct button, that is.

The digital clocks with their LED displays have eliminated the need to turn on a light to see the time, but they can also be too bright and disturb your sleep. I have to turn them toward the wall or place a large book or something in front to shield the light. The LCD type does not have this problem, but then you do need a light (or backlight) to read the display. Even then, to sleepy eyes, the 7-segment display can be unclear. On the positive side, digital clocks do not make a ticking noise which can be especially trying when you have trouble sleeping. The longer you are awake, the more irritating the tick-tock, and the more anxious you become. Then it is even more difficult to sleep, which makes for a vicious cycle.

Before the advent of digital clocks, you had to look at a clock's hands and determine the time. Learning to tell time was one of the skills we acquired early on. And the old wall clocks with Roman numerals made you work just a little bit more. I must say that this skill has indeed proved useful, for I find it easier see a clock with two hands and ascertain the approximate time very quickly than by looking a a small digital watch or phone. The latter needs fishing for my glasses and what not.

Wall-clocks that announced the hours and half-hours by chiming were a constant in most houses when I was growing up. Though the regular chiming can be disturbing in the still of the night, it takes cuckoo-clocks to be really infuriating. How one can put up with the constant racket is beyond me. At least, I can say that they were honest in naming them 'cuckoo'. Speaking of names, how about grandfather clocks? Where did this name originate? And, how come there is no 'father clock'?

Well, that's all the time I have to devote to time today. I always tend to ruminate over time when we are getting ready to change to daylight savings time. If you feel I have wasted your time with this blog post, let me repeat what John Lennon said: Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted. That is, assuming, you enjoyed reading this!

In The Moment

It was just past sunset, the time when a hush seems to descend on the world. Like nesting birds, people had returned to the sanctuary of their homes ready for repose. The normally busy intersection now had little traffic. I was waiting for the signal to change which had turned red to allow the lone jogger to cross the road. The broad avenue I was on had a divider in the middle and was lined with trees along the median so you could not see the traffic on the other side. In addition, the road cut through a hill and on either side, you just saw the slope of the hill. You felt you were on some country road even though you were just moments away from houses and busy shops. When the signal turned green, I charged ahead accelerating smoothly along the beautiful road. With no one ahead of me, it was as if I had the whole road to myself. In the fading light and cooling air, with the windows down, as I sped up, I felt a satisfying thrill and broke into a wide smile.

As I look back on this, I wonder what was really special about it. Now and then, some ordinary experiences stand out in our memory. There are others that seem to provide for repeated thrills. For example, every time I am on a plane trip, I find the take-off exhilarating. If you fly frequently, you would think that the thrill would wear off. But I always look forward to it, savouring the calm as the plane waits for its turn to use the runway, and the rapid run up to take-off that follows. I am captivated by the thrust of the massive engines as they accelerate the plane from the top of the runway, giving it the necessary momentum and lift to fly. And as the speed increases and the noise intensifies into a roar, with the scenery a blur, I wait excitedly for the moment when nose lifts up and the next when, wonder of wonders, the whole plane is clearing the nearby buildings in its ascent. Up in the air, you barely feel the movement, but on the ground it is altogether different.

It is really not necessary to be moving physically to enjoy the thrill of rapid descent or dizzying motion. I remember the many times when I used to wait for the local train in Bombay. There is a tremendous feeling you get when you stand on the platform and an express train thunders along the tracks passing you by at full speed. The sudden rush of wind and the overwhelming noise of the train would envelop me and give me goosebumps. For the next few seconds, the platform, the other people, and the shops - all would disappear and I would lose myself in the scene as the train sped past me in a blur with the distinct fading sound of the whistle. Even now, I can close my eyes, imagine myself on the platform, and recall the experience.

We can be fooled to believe we are moving while remaining stationary. A simulation of motion is enough to create the sensation of actual motion. When we watch a movie on an IMAX screen, it is as though we are ourselves on the scene. I once saw a film about fighter jets which included actual footage recorded from the cockpit of the famed Blue Angels of the US Navy. I felt as if I was actually sitting in the cockpit feeling quite a thrilling sensation of flying. I marvelled  at the skill of the pilot as he executed steep climbs, sudden dives and 360 degree turns and simultaneously at the ability of my mind to share the experience so vividly. If it gets too real and scary, one can always close one's eyes and make everything stop. It is like a dream that you enter and exit at will.

I believe that the thrill and joy in the above have less to do with relative motion - real or simulated - than with our own mood. The mind is a wonderful thing. At certain moments, it lets go of all regrets about the past and anxiety over the future and totally dissolves in the present, enjoying spontaneous joy. Sometimes an external event manages to trigger this. A roller-coaster ride subjects us to twists and turns and multiple g-forces obliterating all other things from our mind momentarily. At other times, as in the case of the IMAX film, we willingly set aside those worries and open ourselves up. Can we achieve this even without such external stimuli, in ordinary moments? I want to say, 'Yes'. I think we can, if we are alive to the environment fully. We can then find joy in everyday experiences. Perhaps this is what is meant by 'living in the moment'.

The other day I was in the park enjoying a relaxing walk when I saw this beautiful golden retriever sprinting across the length of the park, back and forth at full gallop. As he passed me, I caught the expression of absolute joy in his eyes that was so infectious that instantaneously I too was transported. Suddenly, the grass turned a most verdant shade, the breeze had this healing cool touch and the sunlight planted a golden kiss on everything it touched. It was a rapturous moment. I stood there for a few minutes watching the dog and sharing in his happiness. I wondered which was the greater gift - the ability to share in another's joy or the ability to spread joy.

A Chip On The Brain

The alarm goes off at 6 am. You extend a sleepy arm and hit the snooze button and lapse back into sleep. Sleep is especially delicious after that. 'Just five minutes', you tell yourself. The next thing you know, you are late for work. This is a routine familiar to many of us. But now you can break it, thanks to Pavlok, the tough new personal coach which promises to help you change your habits. With this around your wrist, you had better quickly jump out of bed when the alarm goes off. If you do not, be prepared to receive a jolt of electric shock. Pavlok promises to help you shake off negative habits and whip you into shape. The threat of corporal punishment and public shame (Pavlok will expose your transgressions in social media) are guaranteed to transform you. If not, I wonder what will.

If you need Pavlok to keep you from becoming lazy, you might not want to indulge in Google Glass. With Google glass, one does not even have to pick up the phone and 'thumb' through the screen. All one has to do is squint obliquely, perhaps looking a little demented, and one can read the latest tweet or email or message. I am sure the next version will enable the user to look straight into the glass. Then someone could look at you and yet not be looking at you. And if that person starts laughing suddenly, it may have nothing to do with you. He or she is probably just watching something on the internet. But I am really not sure why we need this gadget. Watch Daily Show - Google Glass where some users try to explain the utility of the glass to hilarious effect.

Wearable Tech devices or 'Tech-Jewelry' as I would like to call them, are commonplace now. When blue tooth devices first appeared, it took us a while to get used to seeing people walking about with the little light glowing on their earpieces, looking a little futuristic. But now we hardly bat an eyelid when we see people talking to thin air. They are also free to gesticulate and many do which makes for some comic relief.

Perhaps we have become so indolent, not only physically but mentally too that we have accepted we are incapable of making simple decisions. There is something disturbing about the idea that we need gadgets to program our life, to get us to exercise, to eat healthy, to remind us to drink water, etc. etc. Nothing illustrates this better than Vessyl. You can think of it as the Holy Grail of nifty devices. This genius cup can tell you what you have poured into it. Yes, that's right. You pour coffee into it and in a second, it will display that fact back to you. It will keep tabs on how much you consume in fluids and calories from them. This segment from the Colbert Report sums it up beautifully.

It seems to me that we have a reached a certain crossroads in our evolution. I have often wondered if human beings were evolving what the next stage would be. I would not care to make a prediction but there is perhaps a clue in the tech-jewelry that we are now seeing. From Google Glass to Pavlok - there is a trend that is pushing technology closer and closer to our bodies. And people seem all too eager to embrace all this. Evidently, they are convinced that they need to program their daily lives using technology. In fact, many of the pre-launch offers for new devices are snapped up quickly.

For the longest time we have been trying to create intelligent robots. But it appears that it is easier to program intelligent beings into robots than the other way around.

Even as tech-jewelry is gaining in popularity, another frontier has opened up - Tech Implants. I guess implants are just the next logical step. While there are many applications for such devices, we may be headed towards a brave new world where our brains are connected to chips that enhance our capabilities in some fashion. Imagine accessing the worldwide web without wires and communicating using just our thoughts. We can listen to music and watch movies entirely inside our heads. But there is also the real possibility of our brains being hacked and manipulated. Will others be able to read our thoughts then? I don't think I want to be online in such a literal sense! I shudder at the possibility but the way people are willing to share their personal life on social media, it is probably not worth the hacker's effort.

I do think many will draw the line at being hacked by others. But there are plenty of people willing to hack into their own bodies to make them 'optimal'. Biohacking is the latest trend. Wikipedia defines it as follows: "Biohacking is the practice of engaging biology with the hacker ethic. Biohacking encompasses a wide spectrum of practices and movements ranging from "Grinders" who design and install do-it-yourself body-enhancements such as magnetic implants to do-it-yourself biologists who conduct at-home gene sequencing". I don't know about you, but to me, this is a scary prospect. I tend to think that the human body has been designed to be self-reliant. There are many processes inside that are autonomous but usually these are best left alone. I would worry that attempts to modify one function may have unintended consequences elsewhere just like prescription drugs which carry the risk of dangerous side effects. Sometimes the remedy seems worse than the disease itself.

Where will all this take us? If everyone gets an implant, can I afford to remain unhacked? Will I be able to distinguish those with implants from others? Will such technology remove the essential 'human' quality in us? If the past is any guide, a new technology usually leads the full analysis of its potential impact. But if you don't know what to make of all these new developments, relax. I am sure you can always get a chip implanted on your brain which will tell you what to think. And then you can sing with Pink Floyd (Brain Damage - Dark Side of The Moon): "There's someone in my head but it's not me" and mean it literally.

Concert Disconcert

It was a beautiful summer evening. A crowd had gathered at the park to listen to the orchestra. The Philadelphia Orchestra was performing with a good number of serious patrons seated under the massive canopy of the Mann Center. Outside the canopy, it was a different story. The atmosphere resembled a picnic with people spread out with blankets and food. Some, like me, had obtained free passes to the concert which allowed them to attend sitting in the lawn. This was my first time attending a western classical music performance. The conductor was the famous Eugene Ormandy.

I knew nothing about western classical music. It seemed that I was surrounded by people who too knew little about it. It was just a great way for them to enjoy an evening in the park. The more serious audience sitting inside the sheltered area was no doubt better informed and looking forward to the event.

I was impressed with the formal attire of the orchestra and their incredible discipline and control. They have to be really alert to not miss their cues, I thought. I marvelled at the composer who was able to write the phrases for the different sections - strings, woodwind, brass and so on, and for such a large number of performers and the grand vision it took to do that. The conductor was masterful in guiding the orchestra, waving his baton like a magical wand. At one precise moment, I saw the drummer crashing the cymbals and then wait for the next such moment. When the music ended with a crescendo at one point, the audience in the peanut gallery (which included me) broke into applause. The conductor turned around, bowed, and said, 'Thank you. I hope you will find the remaining movements equally enjoyable'. I realized that we had applauded at the wrong time!

I have not repeated that mistake since mainly because I have not attended western classical concerts. While I do enjoy certain pieces, I do not have enough understanding and appreciation to sit through a full concert. I have been to a few rock concerts which of course are the very antithesis of a classical concert. People can and do sing along and dance wildly and generally make quite a racket often drowning out the music which itself is amplified to uncomfortable decibel levels. I decided after a couple of such experiences that the music is better heard on a CD player at home.

I do attend carnatic music performances regularly and enjoy them thoroughly. The atmosphere at these events is decidedly less formal than at western classical concerts. Here the audience lights are usually not turned off. I am told that carnatic performers like to be able to see the audience when they are on stage, appreciating the opportunity to interact with them. I can understand why since there is considerable improvisation. But this leads to some unintended consequences.

I don't think this happens in India, but in the US, many of the patrons bring their children along. Perhaps they are learning music themselves and can sometimes be seen making notes. Or the parents just want them to be exposed to Indian music. Many are generally busy with their smartphones. Some of the adults too seem to be doing the same thing. I have even seen some taking care of business on their laptops. If you have other things to do, why bother coming?

The serious listeners tend to sit in the front rows so that they can avoid distractions. People may be walking in out in the back frequently. There are also those engaged in intense private conversations. For some reason, they assume that their voices cannot be heard by the rest of the crowd. It is particularly annoying because everyone can hear them perfectly just at those times when the artiste is in the middle of delicate phrases. Younger children get restive and start fussing, crying, or running about. Still others are doing their homework which would be fine except that their parents get busy helping them with that. You can also see some young ones stretched out on the seats sleeping. Meanwhile, the lights shine on unconcernedly.

I do admire the artistes who seem immune to all the tamasha that is going on in the hall. How inspired would the musician feel seeing people engaged in all sorts of activities? I suppose that they focus on the serious listeners. But among these folks too, there are one or two that are overenthusiastic and get carried away. You may even find them trying to hum along. Others get very loud keeping time (talam) gesticulating with their hands raised to boot. In one concert, the mridangam player got so distracted by this that he had to stop and say, 'I am glad to see that you are keeping talam, but please do so quietly'.

Perhaps it is time to consider turning the lights off. But then I am afraid that the glow of the smartphones will take over creating a sort of disco effect. Sigh! I guess you can't win 'em all.

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